16/2/25

There are vegetables galore around here, and the Mistress has been busy making assorted pickles in jars. She told her darling she wanted to try making these as a variety with salads. I supervised this task to make sure she did it right. I must say they look bright and chirpy while sitting on the bench. They had some for dinner that night because she ran out of jars. To her delight, her darling looked for more. Maybe she needs to make more, she wondered. Now, she is calling herself an Indian giver because she gave a load of jars to her brother-in-law when she shifted, and now their plans have changed.

Tomato Relish

Now, on to the tomatoes. I am worried that a nasty smell may occur during the cooking process. I recall very well last summer when I could not escape. That smell stuck around for days on end. It was putrid. Gnomes are not accustomed to such stinky events. I will take off if she gives me a chance, but that was just a dream.

My new friends will wonder what is going on around here. I have heaps to tell them about the cooking smells that sometimes waft out of here. His Lordship cooked last night. His darling left here very early yesterday and was away all day. She went to Christchurch to catch up with friends at her church and bought a herb planter. It appears she wants to grow some parsley, chives, and mint. She is fed up waiting for the next stage of the caravan debacle and very keen to grow as it appears that we will continue living here, but not in this caravan or any other caravan. It seems that the idea of traveling around NZ has gone for good. 

Later, I could report to my mates, but before I could get a word in, they asked what on earth she was cooking. "Putrid," they reckon, and they are so right. They are not accustomed to such a putrid smell and hope she has finished.

The Mistress is now well involved in this community and does volunteer work, which she enjoys. She often books their car and is not home like her regular routine. His Lordship announces, "Argh, peace at last." I agree totally. The caravan is quieter, and he gets to do as he wants.

Yesterday, the mistress got cracking, filled a new planter box she found, and planted some herbs in it. She missed these things and will move to the next destination when the caravan goes. I am not privy to this information yet. I wonder when this will occur, but they refuse to give me details. They say I am too nosey.

Herbs

Last night, she muttered about her cell phone not doing what it was designed for. She had no data, and this had not happened before. So, a text to her daughter on His Lordship's phone to ask about it, and it appears she was to go to her provider.

While out this morning, she texted him so he knew she had it sorted. She informed him she wasn't on their Wi-Fi when she arrived home. 

Being technologically disadvantaged poses lots of problems for her, and I hear that while using this at this volunteer place, she has to know her way around that square contraption. Her head was overloaded when she came home, and she almost needed a lie-down, but she settled for her chair. She has to use the computer to find information and requires many more skills. They are apparently happy to teach her, and her reply was, "I'm a slow learner," and they would need patience. She has warned them and can do no more.

Nobody teaches me about this contraption; I must figure it out myself. Those words above that changed the size have me beat. Clicking my fingers doesn't work either, because I have tried that too. My magic powers escaped me for good, too. Oh well, stuff happens in this human world, and a mere gnome hasn't a dog show. 

I will stick to the new plants and keep an eye on them, and the new Gnome, stationed beside them, will woe betide if some wholly interfere with them. Mr Mitre 10 will use his shovel and deal with them.