We’re All Hipsters Now

We now wake up to birds shrieking daily. I often find myself distracted in meetings by the background call of ‘Goose, no.’ To be fair, he doesn’t actually catch them. Just causes them great distress by bounding up the trees they are sitting in and launching himself comically into space as they fly away. The birds have not yet learnt that our garden is not a great space for collecting nesting material. Goose has not yet learned that he runs out of tree before he runs out of bird.

As a result, the garden is filled with scuff lines and paw marks but very little newly growing grass. All my scarifying and laying of topsoil has merely more crisply denoted the bare patches in the garden. The scarecrow, meanwhile, is sat in a corner, looking disappointed that I can no longer be bothered to replant him once I turn off the sprinkler.

Food, at least, remains in good supply. Sue has been a marvel, sourcing out deliveries where she can and trying to keep on top of everything we need. It doesn’t always turn up quite as expected, with quite baffling logic for the replacements leaving us wondering how lemon curd and lemon-scented dishwasher tablets are supposed to be interchangeable, but that just forces us to be a little inventive with our meals. Plus, now, we are never short of bread. Like pretty much the entire planet, we now how a sourdough starter. It lives in the kitchen and needs to be fed daily, which makes it almost as much of a family pet as Goose. Slightly less threatening to the avian population, however.

So here we are, garden freshly seeded, food on order from Ocado, and ready to make our own sourdough. I’ve never felt so middle class.
There’s only one more thing we need to make the hipster lifestyle complete.

This year, I think we’re going to go on a staycation.