another talk

I've just got back from another woodland charity talk.  It was to a Townswomen's Guild, and they were a considerate group of ladies, who opted to put me on first, then conduct their Guild business after the tea break, when I had safely packed up and was on my way back home.  I have sat through a lot of club business over the years, and it is interesting, in a sort of Alan Bennett something overheard way, if you are of a nosy disposition and curious about how society organises itself, but still it's nice when people think that you might have other stuff to do besides listening to the minutes of their last meeting being read, followed by a thank you for their fund raising efforts letter from the Air Ambulance, and a reminder that bookings are being taken now for the November theatre trip, and an update on who is ill and how their operations went.  They said they liked the talk, and one of them wanted my details because she helps run a WI branch and other societies and thought the talk mught be useful for those.  Further bookings from people who have already heard me speak are always reassuring.

Beyond that there isn't a lot to say about it, as I wrote at length about talks last week.  The church hall was exactly where the map made it look as though it ought to be, I was not caught up in traffic jams on the A12, the projector bulb didn't blow.  Having read the instructions on the side of the machine while I was waiting for proceedings to start, once I'd finished setting up, I saw that if the bulb failed I had to let the machine cool for a minimum of 45 minutes before extracting the old one.  On that basis I don't know why I bother to carry a spare, since no audience is going to want to wait for that long before the talk recommences.

The trouble with afternoon meetings is that they do take out a lot of the day.  I extracted my odd super of honey in the morning, which had been sitting on the kitchen worktop for several days pending a convenient moment to do something about it.  The Systems Administrator, as chief cook, had intimated that it was a tiny bit in the way, and become progressively less inclinded to avoid frying onions or performing other high-odour culinary operations.  I could see it was in the way, and I didn't want the honey to end up smelling of onions, or curry, once I'd established that it was good honey and not from the ivy.  The trouble with extracting one super (not even full) is that you end up with only a finger's depth of honey in the bottom of your honey bucket, and still have the work of washing the equipment afterwards as much as if it were a couple of buckets full.  Once I'd finished with the honey, and checked that the projector and extension cable still worked, and run through the talk, there was an odd little bit of time left that wasn't long enough to be worth going out into the garden, or starting to do anything in particular.

Driving back it looked like a beautiful sunny afternoon, which it was, but once I got home I realised it was also extremely windy.  The Systems Administrator having finished today's stint painting the house had just released the chickens, and was wandering around with a deckchair looking for somewhere that was in the sun but out of the wind to sit.  I don't think there is such a place in the front garden at this hour of the afternoon.  Apparently the house-painting is going very well.  The S.A. had to saw a small piece off the frame of the bedroom dormer window to fit the top layer of scaffolding into the available space, but says it will be easy to put back afterwards.