It takes a woman

 Early doors saw me crossing into unknown militia territory to an elder bush. Apparently elder flowers for elder cordial and champagne have to picked in the morning, so not being one to buck tradition I did as I was told. Some readers might wonder why we are so late in gathering these large heads of foul smelling small white flowers to make beverages of dubious quality. We are not in fact late, merely just in time and as the micro climate on the dark side of the bonsai mountain is at least a month behind the rest of the nation then we might actually be early. Whatever difference picking flowers first thing was probably lost as the cordial making didn't happen until gone half ten in the evening due to the many other more pressing tasks of the day.

This included packing away a ton of straw before the inevitable rain, I was helped by the Berners, Elf in particular enjoyed this pastime. A mass breakout of pigs and piglets provided some unexpected entertainment just as the smallholding settled down to sleep, Poppy the pathetic triever heralded the impending chaos and a mad ten minutes in the dark ensued, all accounted for save one called Piggle who left it another half hour before creating her own little pool of mayhem before retiring for the night. The situation was finally resolved by a bag of apples, she being partial to fruit dutifully followed me back to the slammer hoping for the forbidden fruit which she got as a reward for being a good piggie. No rules set by Defra were broken during this episode regarding feeding livestock as although the apples were for eating they had not actually entered the cottage as they were in the back of Hazel waiting to be unloaded.
 Speaking of which I spent far too long in the car again today but at least one really irritating thing about Hazel has been eliminated. Since we bought her the drivers seat belt clasp has been tricky, it would take several attempts to get it to close and hold the buckle. The problem got a bit worse so when Hazel was on one of her many trips to the car doctor he was asked to remedy this annoyance.
NO, cant be done, not without fitting a new one, its on the point of disintegration you see, sorry. Second opinion was sought some time later, same response, its bust guv, get a new one. The MOT recently again raised the spectre of the dodgy buckle, advised to get it repaired.
 Ok.
The buckle then starts to be really irritating and sometimes refused to close until sworn at. Not good. Beautiful and oh so patient wife cleans out Hazels interior as I had been driving it and it was starting to look like foxes were squatting in it.
She squirted the buckle with WD40.
It works perfectly.
Everytime.
Sometimes it takes a woman.