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July 23 A sticky sort of a dayMaking jam really makes me happy, there's something really good about getting a load of fruit for free and with the addition of a bit of sugar and a bit of time Bob's yer uncle! I got piles of cherries just off the trees around and about, the raspberries from the garden and the plums from trees on one of the dog walks. Once made, I always think well that'll see us through the winter, then I start giving it away and before I know whats what, there's one jar left. Never mind, I can always make some more - as long as they give me the jars back!
Free fruit reminds me of a holiday I invited myself on. My sister and brother in law were going camping to Avimore in Scotland with the idea of some good walks and I tagged along. It was freezing, and we walked if only to keep warm. On the first afternoon we found a ruin of a croft which obviously had a much loved garden and in it to our delight we found a plum tree. It was September and being that much more Northerly the plums were at their peak so we of course carried as many as we could back to the camp site with us. By the end of the week we had eaten plums every way possible and were heartily sick of them and on the final evening after probably more plums than was sensible we went up to the Avimore Centre for a drink. Half way through the evening Flora said she felt really sick and made a hasty exit to the loo. Trevor and I sat there for a bit then I decided to go and see was she ok. I went into the ladies and asked her was she ok, she said she was but I insisted that she open the cubicle so I could see for myself, she did and in I went, and that was the last thing I remember because I fainted dead away and ended with my legs sticking out the bottom of the door and my head in the sanitary bin! Needless to say it was a bemused Trevor who saw flora leading me out to the fresh air!
Haven't really been too keen on plums since then. July 22 Some sort of an explainationAfter the last blog entry here,and the comments which ensued, I really think 'the demise of the canary' should be expanded upon.
What happened was that my mam died in October '83, and her adored canary required a new home. Although we had 3 cats at the time, I took bird and cage and placed it in such a way that the door was away from prying paws. The fact was, the cats after an initial show of interest, seemed to just accept it, even ignored it. And that was that.
One December afternoon, while I was busy in the kitchen and 'the bairn' was playing happily -as I thought- in the living room, Thomas the cat came wandering past me and mewed to be let out into the garage, from where there was a cat flap into the garden. I opened the kitchen door and out he toddled with what looked like a banana hanging from his mouth. Now you can say I'm thick, or even say I'm blind, but in my preoccupied mind there seemed to me to be nothing wrong in a cat carrying a banana, just a bit odd that's all. Then the penny dropped, and I legged after him out of the door, only to see him on the lawn having a tasty snack of 'Chubby' the canary.
The 3 year old, with blond curls and the face of an angel, eventually told - after the shock of what had happened wore off- and said that Chubby had looked sad and wanted out.
There is a bit of an add on to this story, and it's this, that after almost 3 months of not even being able to shed a tear for my mam who I loved dearly, this event was the catalyst enabling some good hearty bawling. Er, pardon the catalyst pun.
July 16 A smashing dayToday I have been getting rid of all the pent up aggresion I never knew I had. We (the dad and me) have been helping my sister Sheila to get her house in order, emptying the loft and the garage of 30 odd years of junk and taking car loads to the local tip. In the garage we found 40 sheets of formica 10'x6'leaning against the wall, they were damp on the bottom and really no good for anything, but to get them into the car we had to smash them up. What a lovely noise as we folded them then stood on the fold crack! Course then we had all the fiddly little bits to pick up which wasn't so nice. But there was immense pleasure from smashing all these sheets up, very theraputic. Especially knowing that we were actually enjoying a job which the council had informed Sheila would cost £65 just to get rid of it!
Last night I had a really scary experiece, I say scary but in fact it was just plain shocking. I was out at about 11pm giving the dogs their last thing walk round the block- a very short block- and as we were passing the back of our house where there is a wide grassed verge, I saw a hand brush. Now John had been doing some stuff at the back of the house earlier and I assumed he had inadvertantly left it there, so without a second thought I picked it up and lobbed it over our fence.....it was only as the hand brush left my hand that I realised this was a living hand brush of the hedgehog variety!
I absolutly screamed, and ran home like the clappers -much to the dog's disgust- and went straight with large torch into the back garden, no sign whatsoever, neither was there any sign this morning. I guess it had a soft landing somewhere and scurried off. Poor thing! Poor me! Come to think of it, I didn't look up the tree!
July 11 Wednesday Wobbly WalkersEvening all!
Wednesday Wobbly Walkers were out in force today, there were 26 of us which isn't half bad considering the holiday season is upon us. Mind you, there was a serious sorting of wheat from the chaff, as those of us who have walked less over the past month for one reason or another were left behind on more than one occasion. This, it has to be said is probably more likely the result of the jaws going faster than the legs. It was lovely to see a Red Kite soaring over the woodland of the Derwent Valley, gliding on the air currents in search of carrion for it's young. I almost wished I'd had on my person a dead rabbit to throw down for the family to feast on. But, as I am not in the habit of carrying such things around with me I'm afraid it had to search for it's own food.
My pal Selma is recovering from a Bi-Pass operation. She had it last Friday and only yesterday was she like her old self. Physically she was doing really well but between the anaesthetic and the pain killers she was totally bonkers for 3 days. Now Selma is the most rational person I know, she is the product of a good middle class education which in her case served her well as a social worker (said she'd seen it all before in boarding school) and she is good at really telling it, how it is, without frills. According to the other 3 women in the ward her performances were oscar worthy. Amongst other things, she was in wait behind curtains ready to hang one on any passing nurse, catheter and wee bag trailing along behind her, and constantly she demanded to be taken to her own home which she said was a castle in Ireland (it's not, it's a semi detatched), and her groom and butler would do them all in if she wasn't taken immediatly! Bless her, she has no recollection of any of this stuff which is probably just as well, but it does make you think and wonder at what other stuff the poor nursing staff have to cope with post op.
Toodle oo then, take care. xx
July 03 LindisfarneJust added a few pics of Lindisfarne which is off the Northumberland coast, or as it is more commonly known here, Holy Island. Nice to be back, Again!Norfolk was very lovely, if a little soggy! Nevertheless, I had the break I needed and now I’m back to torment you all once again. My sister in law has a son who married in Australia, he and his wife are home at the moment on holiday. We were discussing the incident at Glasgow Airport and I asked her was there any fear of terrorism in Brisbane. She really laughed out loud and shook her head, ‘no’ she said, ’Brisbane is the last place there would be any terrorists’. That was yesterday, today they arrested a doctor at Brisbane airport who is suspected of have connections to Al-Quaeda. Makes you think.
I spent 6 hours on a coach on Sunday coming back to Newcastle and I started to chuckle as I remembered something that happened on a coach about 10 years ago. I was with my unmarried sister in law, 20 years my senior and we were on a day trip, the coach was full and all the usual suspects were aboard, mostly grey haired. I was in an aisle seat and diagonally opposite me also in the aisle was a lady of about 75, she was dressed in a tweed suit and very sensible shoes, Ms Tweedy must have had bad legs because they were swathed in thick elastic stockings. Directly in front of her was an elderly medallion man, probably with the wife, and he was dangling his arm over the side of the seat. Thinking he was getting hold of the back of his own seat he started to move his hand up and down the well furnished leg of Ms Tweedy, he had absolutely no idea that it was Ms Tweedy’s leg and he idly caressed it in a way that would probably have delighted Mrs Medallion. Anyway, I seemed to be the only one to notice this, and when I caught sight of the look on Ms Tweedy’s face I nudged my sister in law. She completely startled me by immediately leaning over me with her brolly, with which she poked poor medallion man, and said ‘what do you think you are doing’? Well, the poor man nearly had a fit, then a bigger one when he realised it was the woman’s leg he’d been groping. I was in a state of total hysteria as the man tried to apologise and Ms Tweedy tried to pretend it hadn’t even happened.
Hope you are all dried out after the extreme weather, we have been so lucky here in N E England. Take care |
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