Adapting to Circumstances

The garden at Swanvale Halt Rectory is ill-suited for croquet. The lawn area is small so the customary pitch needs to be scaled down. It has two trees in the middle. It has a sunken path to one side, and a severe slope, front-to-back. This means that you only ever really play crazy croquet, a variant I have never heard of, but if we've invented it, then so be it. This includes extra rules, such as being able to retrieve your ball if it rolls down into the path, or legitimately stopping it if it is threatening to do so; and with every stroke you have to take account of the gradient. Or gradients. And the remains of molehills, pits and holes. And, in this year of drought and 'false autumn', the leaves. 

We started late during my Bank Holiday Sunday garden party yesterday, so the croquet had to be not just crazy but also carried out at some speed to fit in the evening meal: I expected some leftovers but did want to ensure some inroads were made into the lasagne. It was such a pleasure to be able to have friends over to share my home for a little while, as I haven't done since 2018: it's always a lot of work, but I get my reward. 

I've learned to prepare as much in advance as possible, making food and freezing it. On Thursday evening the task was to cook the lasagne. Most of my friends are, or at least prefer to be, vegan, so I'd bought some soya milk, but contemplating the pan I was going to use I was pretty sure I'd need more than I had, so set out as the sun set to find some. The Co-Op had none, neither did the corner store nearby. Neither did Sainsbury's. Waitrose was shut. So was the convenience store on the corner. So was Corbett's back in the village. I eventually found some the following morning at the newsagents that contains the post office. They've come to my assistance before when I needed an emergency aubergine.