Ro tells me that his sister and his friend Zain have both texted him, congratulating him on his decision to move out (congratulating? Like I'm an Old Man of the Sea he has to break away from? Sheesh). Weeza knew because the Sage had told both of us, but he knows that Zain must have read it here. He now thinks that one advantage of moving out will be that I won't write about him any more. He's flattering himself of course, I don't think I mention him, except in passing, that often. "I'm not that interesting of course" when I told him that. "If I were like *startlingly badly-behaved son of a friend* you'd have more to say."
I don't think I would though. I'd be more likely to mention the good times. Dirty washing would stay out of sight.
This reminds me, when I said, earlier this afternoon, that I needed to buy food for the weekend, the Sage volunteered to do the shopping. Awfully good of him, so I reminded him that we needed food for two days and off he went. A few minutes ago, he came in the room. "Dinner in about half an hour, all right?" "Oh, okay, that's a bit early," I said, preparing to get up. It was made clear that the Sage is doing the cooking. I don't mind at all. Especially as he came in carrying a glass of wine for me. I hid the glass I'd already poured and thanked him prettily.
I wonder if he'll cook dinner often, once it's just the two of us? Ro lived away for 3 years of course, when he was at university, but that was at the time when first I was looking after my mum who dramatically told Phil upon meeting him for the first (only) time at Christmas "I've received my death sentence, you know" and, at about the same time, Al had moved back here, having just spent all he had on buying and starting the shop. So we were never actually alone at all. Once Al moved out, I suppose we were during term time, but I can't remember much about it. Gosh, that was nearly 6 years ago, how could I be expected to?
Saturday, 9 May 2009
Friday, 8 May 2009
Bringing on the wall, soon.
"Next we go to Papua New Guinea, where there are scenes describing women who were put to death, having been accused of being witches. Some viewers may find this disturbing" I paraphrase, I'm not actually quoting in spite of the quotation marks. But this is a quote (unless the relevant word is distressing, am I likely to remember?)
"Ro - "Find it disturbing? Who wouldn't?" and he changed the channel. Indeed.
Apparently, while I was out yesterday, he had a talk with his father. If I'd been there I'd not have been excluded, but I've given him openings this evening ... anyway, he's been talking about buying a house, but now he's likely to be moving out in any case, into a room in someone's house, as a half-way measure. I'm not surprised, nor dismayed, but neither am I relieved - he's getting on for 25 and, although always enjoyable company, he's been quite disengaged - that is, more than a friendly lodger than a close family member - in the time he's lived here since he left university. We've plenty of space and he's been able to save for a deposit, it's been fine.
Weeza thinks I should make him feel guilty by being awfully upset. I think he'd think I was being odd, if he believed me at all.
I expect he'll buy in the next 6 months, unless property prices enter freefall, which isn't that likely.
Oh, there was just one meal I put on to my credit card in Italy, for 2 of us. I just got the bill in pounds. It was less than I expected. The exchange rate improved during the week then.
Oh. the sand and cement have arrived. I didn't have the nous to photograph the lorry, but I have taken pictures of nearly a ton of sand and several bags of cement. How exciting. I must post them. Will it be all right to report on the Wall's Progress here, or does it need a whole blog to itself? It hardly seems necessary, although it would mean that all you lovely people who flock here to lend a hand (possibly by just issuing admiring encouragement) could post their own thoughts and possibly photos of Dave's and my Builder's Bottoms. Hm. The camera is on top of a box of chocolates I'm not going to eat, so I may not put them up tonight.
Update - about 10 pm - Ro has told me himself, good lad. Boys can be concerned that their mothers will fuss. I've no idea if he thought I would, but still a job not to be shirked, so that's good.
"Ro - "Find it disturbing? Who wouldn't?" and he changed the channel. Indeed.
Apparently, while I was out yesterday, he had a talk with his father. If I'd been there I'd not have been excluded, but I've given him openings this evening ... anyway, he's been talking about buying a house, but now he's likely to be moving out in any case, into a room in someone's house, as a half-way measure. I'm not surprised, nor dismayed, but neither am I relieved - he's getting on for 25 and, although always enjoyable company, he's been quite disengaged - that is, more than a friendly lodger than a close family member - in the time he's lived here since he left university. We've plenty of space and he's been able to save for a deposit, it's been fine.
Weeza thinks I should make him feel guilty by being awfully upset. I think he'd think I was being odd, if he believed me at all.
I expect he'll buy in the next 6 months, unless property prices enter freefall, which isn't that likely.
Oh, there was just one meal I put on to my credit card in Italy, for 2 of us. I just got the bill in pounds. It was less than I expected. The exchange rate improved during the week then.
Oh. the sand and cement have arrived. I didn't have the nous to photograph the lorry, but I have taken pictures of nearly a ton of sand and several bags of cement. How exciting. I must post them. Will it be all right to report on the Wall's Progress here, or does it need a whole blog to itself? It hardly seems necessary, although it would mean that all you lovely people who flock here to lend a hand (possibly by just issuing admiring encouragement) could post their own thoughts and possibly photos of Dave's and my Builder's Bottoms. Hm. The camera is on top of a box of chocolates I'm not going to eat, so I may not put them up tonight.
Update - about 10 pm - Ro has told me himself, good lad. Boys can be concerned that their mothers will fuss. I've no idea if he thought I would, but still a job not to be shirked, so that's good.
Z procrastinates, isn't a blog useful?
Yes, I'm better now, thanks. I had reached the point of tiredness and lack of food (I must remember to apologise to the headteacher) where I wasn't thinking straight. The evening meeting really didn't help - it was quite confusing and we didn't actually get through the whole presentation as a couple of people asked questions, after which it turned into an opinion-giving session, without enough knowledge yet given out for informed opinion. I didn't say a word during the meeting, except to murmur a couple of facts that I did know to the chairman of governors next to me.
I ate a couple of sausages and some asparagus that the Sage had kept from dinner for me, drank a couple of glasses of wine and still felt drained. Later, I went to find more food, ate the rest of the bolognese sauce from the night before, on a piece of toast (it was more than I needed but I ate it anyway), took a bottle of wine from the fridge, couldn't find a corkscrew - we have four corkscrews - and, rather than looking for one properly, shoved it back and found a screw-top bottle of wine instead. I was beyond being sensible. I drank another glass of wine, went for an early night, but when I'd turned the light out found that all that food and wine made me unable to sleep. So, not to disturb the Sage who had just come to bed, I went and sat on the bathroom floor and read the newspaper. Inevitably, I fell asleep and woke with a crick in my neck, went to bed and slept mercifully soundly.
No more than a slight state of confusion today. The phone keeps ringing and the Sage is out - he loves answering the phone so I don't expect to have to.
Loads of work, not doing it. Damn. Must get on.
I ate a couple of sausages and some asparagus that the Sage had kept from dinner for me, drank a couple of glasses of wine and still felt drained. Later, I went to find more food, ate the rest of the bolognese sauce from the night before, on a piece of toast (it was more than I needed but I ate it anyway), took a bottle of wine from the fridge, couldn't find a corkscrew - we have four corkscrews - and, rather than looking for one properly, shoved it back and found a screw-top bottle of wine instead. I was beyond being sensible. I drank another glass of wine, went for an early night, but when I'd turned the light out found that all that food and wine made me unable to sleep. So, not to disturb the Sage who had just come to bed, I went and sat on the bathroom floor and read the newspaper. Inevitably, I fell asleep and woke with a crick in my neck, went to bed and slept mercifully soundly.
No more than a slight state of confusion today. The phone keeps ringing and the Sage is out - he loves answering the phone so I don't expect to have to.
Loads of work, not doing it. Damn. Must get on.
Thursday, 7 May 2009
Z is a bit overwhelmed
The meeting in London was fine, but at the time when the floor was given to open questions and no one raised a hand, our hearts rose, briefly, until someone did. And it turned out to be a point about digital presentation of lectures. I'm sure that nearly everyone's heart sank. This has dominated (hee hee, I wrote donimated first time) questions for several years. It's here, people. In a couple of years, hardly anyone will use slides and a projector. Most of us are there already. Believe it and deal with it and stop bitching.
Pah. Sorry. I've been too long without food and a hastily swallowed few bites, accompanied by a badly needed couple of glasses of wine, in the last few minutes, hasn't yet improved my state of mind.
When I got home, I found emails asking for more meetings and asking me to babysit. I replied, accepting, then went off for this evening's meeting, which raised more questions than answers. I got home, complained to the Sage about things that hadn't happened while I was away last week (he's all gingered up and ready to please, darling boy that he is, gosh, I think he might need a Toothy Smile of Consolation before long).
Next week has filled up. I'm keeping mornings free, because I'm otherwise engaged, apart from Friday. Yes, the time has done come. Dave and I are going to mend fences. No, what am I talking about? That's nonsense. I mean, Dave and I (and the Sage) are going to build a wall. Give us a day or two, and then you can come and help if you like. No, really, it would be a pleasure. We'd love to see you. We're awfully sociable and friendly, and I'll do lunch and all (sandwiches, I daresay, but who doesn't like a sandwich?) but Dave will be in charge and I'll be glowering in the background, and, frivolous though we normally are, we're also terribly focused.
The Sage didn't quite believe it. He hasn't ordered the sand and cement yet, though I gave him plenty of notice. He's doing it tomorrow. First thing.
I need more food.
Pah. Sorry. I've been too long without food and a hastily swallowed few bites, accompanied by a badly needed couple of glasses of wine, in the last few minutes, hasn't yet improved my state of mind.
When I got home, I found emails asking for more meetings and asking me to babysit. I replied, accepting, then went off for this evening's meeting, which raised more questions than answers. I got home, complained to the Sage about things that hadn't happened while I was away last week (he's all gingered up and ready to please, darling boy that he is, gosh, I think he might need a Toothy Smile of Consolation before long).
Next week has filled up. I'm keeping mornings free, because I'm otherwise engaged, apart from Friday. Yes, the time has done come. Dave and I are going to mend fences. No, what am I talking about? That's nonsense. I mean, Dave and I (and the Sage) are going to build a wall. Give us a day or two, and then you can come and help if you like. No, really, it would be a pleasure. We'd love to see you. We're awfully sociable and friendly, and I'll do lunch and all (sandwiches, I daresay, but who doesn't like a sandwich?) but Dave will be in charge and I'll be glowering in the background, and, frivolous though we normally are, we're also terribly focused.
The Sage didn't quite believe it. He hasn't ordered the sand and cement yet, though I gave him plenty of notice. He's doing it tomorrow. First thing.
I need more food.
Wednesday, 6 May 2009
Brer Z
Oh, it's so sweet, the way people overestimate me. You know the way I assume, of appearing slightly daffy but giving the impression there are hidden depths? In fact, what's there is almost all shallows. I tell you that honestly, but I am sure that a few of you think that I'm still hiding a Mariana Trench in there somewhere, because that's the impression I can, on occasion, give.
Anyway, I went to a meeting this evening at the school, where I am frankly a spare part. I'm happy to go, because I simply sit and listen and marvel at how bloody good everyone else is. It's an impressive committee, and I'm the token non-participant. I spoke twice in an hour and a half, once to make a pertinent point (my only chance) and once to make a sarcastic, but entirely sound, observation about the Local Authority. We're rather a long way from Ipswich and mere lip-service is paid, in the form of occasional sucking-up, to the fact we're very effective. Pity they keep forgetting to mention what we do in letters, conferences, and on their website.
At the end, when confirming the date of the next meeting, a chairman was looked around for. We take it in turns. It was adjudged to be my turn. "Fine," I said, " but you know I know nothing. I'll just refer each agenda item to the person who does." And this will be fine, it'll work - we've got three headteachers there for a start, we hardly need calling to order. Anyway, ahem, I could do that.
But 'my' headmaster said, earnestly, that I mustn't keep underestimating myself, that I know more than I give myself credit for. So I told him what I said to you at the top of the page. He quite got it, and told me a tale about a chairman of governors at a school where he was a mere Senior Teacher (no, really, he's awfully good, I'd not have given him the job otherwise), who bumbled a bit but turned out to be mustard (well, it was a Norfolk school) when put to the test. I mentioned that he was doing it again, and to lower his thoughts. I like to keep something in reserve, but for no-one to be sure what that is, in the hope that they believe that it's more than it is. But I don't disguise that.
I'm off to London tomorrow, on the 8 o'clock train, for a highly dutiful meeting. Home again on the 4 o'clock, so that I can be at the next meeting at 7. No time to see anyone, therefore. Sorry, darlings. Next time.
Ooh, news on the garden - I've planted 9 cucumber plants in the greenhouse. First, I barrowed quantities of cow muck for them to grow in. Splendid stuff, well-rotted cow manure. Full of worms.
Anyway, I went to a meeting this evening at the school, where I am frankly a spare part. I'm happy to go, because I simply sit and listen and marvel at how bloody good everyone else is. It's an impressive committee, and I'm the token non-participant. I spoke twice in an hour and a half, once to make a pertinent point (my only chance) and once to make a sarcastic, but entirely sound, observation about the Local Authority. We're rather a long way from Ipswich and mere lip-service is paid, in the form of occasional sucking-up, to the fact we're very effective. Pity they keep forgetting to mention what we do in letters, conferences, and on their website.
At the end, when confirming the date of the next meeting, a chairman was looked around for. We take it in turns. It was adjudged to be my turn. "Fine," I said, " but you know I know nothing. I'll just refer each agenda item to the person who does." And this will be fine, it'll work - we've got three headteachers there for a start, we hardly need calling to order. Anyway, ahem, I could do that.
But 'my' headmaster said, earnestly, that I mustn't keep underestimating myself, that I know more than I give myself credit for. So I told him what I said to you at the top of the page. He quite got it, and told me a tale about a chairman of governors at a school where he was a mere Senior Teacher (no, really, he's awfully good, I'd not have given him the job otherwise), who bumbled a bit but turned out to be mustard (well, it was a Norfolk school) when put to the test. I mentioned that he was doing it again, and to lower his thoughts. I like to keep something in reserve, but for no-one to be sure what that is, in the hope that they believe that it's more than it is. But I don't disguise that.
I'm off to London tomorrow, on the 8 o'clock train, for a highly dutiful meeting. Home again on the 4 o'clock, so that I can be at the next meeting at 7. No time to see anyone, therefore. Sorry, darlings. Next time.
Ooh, news on the garden - I've planted 9 cucumber plants in the greenhouse. First, I barrowed quantities of cow muck for them to grow in. Splendid stuff, well-rotted cow manure. Full of worms.
Tuesday, 5 May 2009
From the side, they looked like mermaids. Who knew?
The statue in the main square was quite impressive.
At second glance, it was amazingly rude.
Monday, 4 May 2009
Photos to come
It hardly seems possible, within a day of returning home, that one has been on holiday at all. We all have to snap straight back into everyday life. I've done a lot in the greenhouses today, moving, labelling and potting up, and I've also weeded the big greenhouse and had the sprinkler on all afternoon, ready for cucumbers to go out there. I'll wait to plant tomatoes until the plants are in flower, so that they put their energy into fruit production as well as growth.
I haven't visited that part of Italy before - we were staying in Bologna and also visited Ferrara, Mantua and Ravenna, with guided tours of each place and its art galleries and main churches. Marching along with my walking pole, I wondered if it was actually useful or a placebo. When I went out the first evening for dinner and walked for 15 minutes, briskly (for it was raining) without it, I realised that it had indeed been a helpful aid, and one I relied on more as the week went on.
The weather was a bit iffy to start with - mostly dry and not cold, but a sharp shower one evening and a downpour with thunderstorm another. It also rained, and was chilly, in Mantua, which is quite a bit north of where we were based. However as I said, it was still warm enough for early-evening open-air jacuzzi-bathing on the second night; the third we were too late back and by Friday it was hot and delicious weather. We were back at the hotel by 4.30 (our tour guide offered another stop but we were fully cultured up for the day) and I, with a few others, hot-footed it up to the roof.
I enjoyed the visit very much, and the outstanding part was the friendship. I had a lovely time. The group of us dining together increased each night and we completely relaxed and had fun. Couples tended to stay together, so it was single women (I was not the only one to have left a husband at home, but there were spinsters and widows too) who went out in groups. Great friendships can be made among people who are not 'on the pull' or in a couple - I'm not excluding men from this, although there happened to be no unattached men in our party - and middle-aged and plus women can be fine company and support together. We made sure that no one ever felt alone. There were 30 of us in all, which is a good number as we could all get to know each other within the week - last year's party of 40 meant that it was not quite so easy.
Another good thing was our lovely tour manager, Nathalie. She went out with us each day and made the local arrangements. We had guides in each place too - Christina and Marie-Angela in Mantua, Laura in Ferrara and Luciana in Ravenna. I mention them particularly to demonstrate how much better than I used to be with names. Boasting, and stretching the point, our driver was usually Mirco, once Luca and, to the airport, Mirco's father, who was not introduced by name. Nathalie is a tiny, slender woman in her thirties, who is French but has lived near Bologna for fourteen years. She's married to a local man and has two daughters. She was delightful, cheerful, informative and charmed us all. I suspect that the envelope which went round on the last day was generously filled.
The food was also a pleasure. I was circumspect at breakfast, sticking to fruit (bemusingly, and this is the only criticism I have of the hotel - although I found the same in Venice a couple of years ago - all the prepared fruit and juices were tinned and I resorted to grapefruit juice and prunes of all things, as the least unpleasant), a dry roll and plain yoghurt, although I sometimes added a piece of cheese or salami. I took an apple to eat later, a whole large apple was more than I could cope with at breakfast time. For the rest of the day, I relaxed my careful eating plan and am resigned, although I haven't checked, to having put on a pound or two. The food was very good though. Some highlights were the wild strawberries and home-made ice-cream, the spaghetti with seafood (squid, vongole (clams), shrimps, mussels and languoustine [I know that's French, what's the Italian for langoustine?]) and an entirely delicious concoction, made of nuts, one of those flour-free mousse/cake with the egg yolk beaten in, the whisked egg white folded in and the whole baked, topped with a nutty ice-cream. I didn't normally eat pudding, just one course, but occasionally it's worth it.
The return journey was also notable for its smoothness. Going was fine, although one poor lady's luggage went to Bermuda and took a couple of days to follow her to its due destination. For the return, I checked in online, chose the aisle seat at the front, hung back when boarding, swept in among the last and was first out again. The plane was less than half full, I went through a quiet Gatwick, found that the luggage was on the carousel before I arrived there, quickly found my case and abandoned it to a friend's tender care while i sought the loo. On my return, we were ready to board the coach. The plane was 15 minutes early landing, by the way, so we set off about 45 minutes earlier than we'd expected. I napped thoroughly on the way home, having prudently taken the mic and thanked Margaret, the organiser of the whole caboodle, right at the start, and we arrived at the car park at 11 pm. The Sage awaited me with a mug of tea when I arrived home. He said he'd missed me. I was pleased but not at all surprised. Of course he missed me.
Weeza and Phil invited us for lunch yesterday. Zerlina has certainly grown within the week, and her agility at crawling, pulling herself up and doing a 'look, one hand' stand-up turn has improved considerably. She accepts her place in the bicycle-pulling-along-behind-thingy (sorry, I'm hungry and I can smell the dinner that the Sage is cooking, most beautifully) with good grace and the family set off at the weekend for a thirteen-mile ride. Gosh.
So, that was my week. I hope yours was as good.
I haven't visited that part of Italy before - we were staying in Bologna and also visited Ferrara, Mantua and Ravenna, with guided tours of each place and its art galleries and main churches. Marching along with my walking pole, I wondered if it was actually useful or a placebo. When I went out the first evening for dinner and walked for 15 minutes, briskly (for it was raining) without it, I realised that it had indeed been a helpful aid, and one I relied on more as the week went on.
The weather was a bit iffy to start with - mostly dry and not cold, but a sharp shower one evening and a downpour with thunderstorm another. It also rained, and was chilly, in Mantua, which is quite a bit north of where we were based. However as I said, it was still warm enough for early-evening open-air jacuzzi-bathing on the second night; the third we were too late back and by Friday it was hot and delicious weather. We were back at the hotel by 4.30 (our tour guide offered another stop but we were fully cultured up for the day) and I, with a few others, hot-footed it up to the roof.
I enjoyed the visit very much, and the outstanding part was the friendship. I had a lovely time. The group of us dining together increased each night and we completely relaxed and had fun. Couples tended to stay together, so it was single women (I was not the only one to have left a husband at home, but there were spinsters and widows too) who went out in groups. Great friendships can be made among people who are not 'on the pull' or in a couple - I'm not excluding men from this, although there happened to be no unattached men in our party - and middle-aged and plus women can be fine company and support together. We made sure that no one ever felt alone. There were 30 of us in all, which is a good number as we could all get to know each other within the week - last year's party of 40 meant that it was not quite so easy.
Another good thing was our lovely tour manager, Nathalie. She went out with us each day and made the local arrangements. We had guides in each place too - Christina and Marie-Angela in Mantua, Laura in Ferrara and Luciana in Ravenna. I mention them particularly to demonstrate how much better than I used to be with names. Boasting, and stretching the point, our driver was usually Mirco, once Luca and, to the airport, Mirco's father, who was not introduced by name. Nathalie is a tiny, slender woman in her thirties, who is French but has lived near Bologna for fourteen years. She's married to a local man and has two daughters. She was delightful, cheerful, informative and charmed us all. I suspect that the envelope which went round on the last day was generously filled.
The food was also a pleasure. I was circumspect at breakfast, sticking to fruit (bemusingly, and this is the only criticism I have of the hotel - although I found the same in Venice a couple of years ago - all the prepared fruit and juices were tinned and I resorted to grapefruit juice and prunes of all things, as the least unpleasant), a dry roll and plain yoghurt, although I sometimes added a piece of cheese or salami. I took an apple to eat later, a whole large apple was more than I could cope with at breakfast time. For the rest of the day, I relaxed my careful eating plan and am resigned, although I haven't checked, to having put on a pound or two. The food was very good though. Some highlights were the wild strawberries and home-made ice-cream, the spaghetti with seafood (squid, vongole (clams), shrimps, mussels and languoustine [I know that's French, what's the Italian for langoustine?]) and an entirely delicious concoction, made of nuts, one of those flour-free mousse/cake with the egg yolk beaten in, the whisked egg white folded in and the whole baked, topped with a nutty ice-cream. I didn't normally eat pudding, just one course, but occasionally it's worth it.
The return journey was also notable for its smoothness. Going was fine, although one poor lady's luggage went to Bermuda and took a couple of days to follow her to its due destination. For the return, I checked in online, chose the aisle seat at the front, hung back when boarding, swept in among the last and was first out again. The plane was less than half full, I went through a quiet Gatwick, found that the luggage was on the carousel before I arrived there, quickly found my case and abandoned it to a friend's tender care while i sought the loo. On my return, we were ready to board the coach. The plane was 15 minutes early landing, by the way, so we set off about 45 minutes earlier than we'd expected. I napped thoroughly on the way home, having prudently taken the mic and thanked Margaret, the organiser of the whole caboodle, right at the start, and we arrived at the car park at 11 pm. The Sage awaited me with a mug of tea when I arrived home. He said he'd missed me. I was pleased but not at all surprised. Of course he missed me.
Weeza and Phil invited us for lunch yesterday. Zerlina has certainly grown within the week, and her agility at crawling, pulling herself up and doing a 'look, one hand' stand-up turn has improved considerably. She accepts her place in the bicycle-pulling-along-behind-thingy (sorry, I'm hungry and I can smell the dinner that the Sage is cooking, most beautifully) with good grace and the family set off at the weekend for a thirteen-mile ride. Gosh.
So, that was my week. I hope yours was as good.
Sunday, 3 May 2009
Z is home again
It was all lovely and I relaxed and laughed a whole lot. I've also seen a whole lot of culchure. I don't know what you mean about lovely weather here, it's a whole lot colder than Italy.
I've a load of photos, and I may put a few here, but what I thought would be good would be to put them on a website for other people in our party to see, and add their own if they've taken any. Any suggestions on whether Photobucket, Picasa or Flickr are best? I've got accounts with two of them, Weeza uses the other and it may be that all are fine. What I want is to have a username so that anyone entrusted with it can add photos, and a password so that anyone given that can see the pictures. All the potential users are older than I and ability on the computer varies, so straightforwardness and simplicity are best.
The jacuzzi in the roof garden was rather a highlight. Pity it hadn't occurred to me to take my swimsuit. The first day, I rolled up my trousers and sat on the edge. Invited to remove them, I had to confess that I was wearing too revealing underwear. Next time I was better prepared - pretty and decent - and kept my teeshirt on. Sadly, the bubbles made it ride up and complications ensued. It was better removed, until Victor appeared with his camera. I cowered under the bubbles.
My walking boots and pole are fabulous. Thank you again, Badgerdaddy, and I'll write another thank-you to the chap who sent me the poles.
I've a load of photos, and I may put a few here, but what I thought would be good would be to put them on a website for other people in our party to see, and add their own if they've taken any. Any suggestions on whether Photobucket, Picasa or Flickr are best? I've got accounts with two of them, Weeza uses the other and it may be that all are fine. What I want is to have a username so that anyone entrusted with it can add photos, and a password so that anyone given that can see the pictures. All the potential users are older than I and ability on the computer varies, so straightforwardness and simplicity are best.
The jacuzzi in the roof garden was rather a highlight. Pity it hadn't occurred to me to take my swimsuit. The first day, I rolled up my trousers and sat on the edge. Invited to remove them, I had to confess that I was wearing too revealing underwear. Next time I was better prepared - pretty and decent - and kept my teeshirt on. Sadly, the bubbles made it ride up and complications ensued. It was better removed, until Victor appeared with his camera. I cowered under the bubbles.
My walking boots and pole are fabulous. Thank you again, Badgerdaddy, and I'll write another thank-you to the chap who sent me the poles.
Sunday, 26 April 2009
Saturday, 25 April 2009
The Sage is so polite
I was cooking dinner and he came to chat to me. "Am I interrupting?" he asked, because the radio was on. I have complained, sometimes, that people do not think that the radio matters. If you're watching television, they wait for a break before speaking, but they tune out the radio and talk over it and I've often missed something I wanted to listen to.
On this occasion, it was just background conversation, so I assured him I was happy to listen to him. He chattered away happily, about the sale of course, and after a while, grating cheese into a sauce, I dropped the grater. Into the sauce. "Sorry," he said, "That was my fault, I distracted you."
Of course, it wasn't his fault at all, I was merely clumsy.
I have packed, apart from books. I seem to have a shortlist of 6. I'm wondering if this is enough, or perhaps too many. I have also to pack my camera, but at least I have charged the battery. I need to take photos tomorrow, for the advertisement for our July sale. Apparently, the deadline is Monday. The photo is to be of a tea caddy. Vitally, it has its original cover. That doubles, at least, its value.
The Sage is already planning the October sale too. He is very happy.
On this occasion, it was just background conversation, so I assured him I was happy to listen to him. He chattered away happily, about the sale of course, and after a while, grating cheese into a sauce, I dropped the grater. Into the sauce. "Sorry," he said, "That was my fault, I distracted you."
Of course, it wasn't his fault at all, I was merely clumsy.
I have packed, apart from books. I seem to have a shortlist of 6. I'm wondering if this is enough, or perhaps too many. I have also to pack my camera, but at least I have charged the battery. I need to take photos tomorrow, for the advertisement for our July sale. Apparently, the deadline is Monday. The photo is to be of a tea caddy. Vitally, it has its original cover. That doubles, at least, its value.
The Sage is already planning the October sale too. He is very happy.
Z should Bustle About, but doesn't
It's another lovely day. In typical Norfolk fashion, we say we need rain, although we love to have the sun. Every time I go out at this time of the year I take a conscious pleasure in the hedgerows. The blackthorn, which I think must be my favourite hedgerow tree (fabulous white blossom on leaf-free branches and sloes in the autumn as a bonus) is starting to fade, and the hawthorn is in fresh pale green leaf, which will be followed in a few days by (the clue is in the name) the maytree blossom. Cowslips along the A140, magnolias in gardens, lilac just coming out. I'm not sure why I thought it was a good idea to go on holiday just now. Only for a week though. I trust there won't be a sharp frost to catch the wisteria on the front of the house.
I'm eating chocolate and drinking wine. The first is v bad, the second is fine. Indeed, I was awfully pleased when the Sage accepted a glass too. Ro said "isn't it a bit early?" "Not for lunch," I explained, waving my smoked salmon sandwich at him. Then the Sage offered us chocolates (after the salmon). Ro refused, bemused. I think we've reverted to an alarming immaturity compared to him.
I've got a lot to do. I can't take it seriously. Yesterday took it out of us. The Sage is gently dozing in the chair next but one to mine. The chair next to mine has three days-worth of newspapers on it that we haven't had time to read yet.
I'm also reading Camus, L'étranger. I last read it in 1972, when I was about to take French A level. I have to admit, it's using a fair bit of concentration. I'm too lazy to look up the words I don't know, which is slightly disjointing to the story, although one can work most of it out. My French is rubbish.
I'm eating chocolate and drinking wine. The first is v bad, the second is fine. Indeed, I was awfully pleased when the Sage accepted a glass too. Ro said "isn't it a bit early?" "Not for lunch," I explained, waving my smoked salmon sandwich at him. Then the Sage offered us chocolates (after the salmon). Ro refused, bemused. I think we've reverted to an alarming immaturity compared to him.
I've got a lot to do. I can't take it seriously. Yesterday took it out of us. The Sage is gently dozing in the chair next but one to mine. The chair next to mine has three days-worth of newspapers on it that we haven't had time to read yet.
I'm also reading Camus, L'étranger. I last read it in 1972, when I was about to take French A level. I have to admit, it's using a fair bit of concentration. I'm too lazy to look up the words I don't know, which is slightly disjointing to the story, although one can work most of it out. My French is rubbish.
Nearly half a granny
The sale was successful and exciting. At one point, when Weeza and I were taking bids from two people on the phone and a third was bidding in the saleroom, the Sage momentarily lost his voice and Ro had to give him some water. it was all very splendid. My bidder won, hah!
I drove Ro to work, as he was going to come to Lowestoft by train from Norwich. We left just before 7.30, he was in the office by 8 and I arrived to fetch Weeza and Zerlina in time for breakfast. It's Zerlina's second auction, we indoctrinate them young so that they can be put to work as soon as the start of the sale and bedtime don't coincide. She was enchanting, and much admired. She smiles constantly, demonstrates crawling and standing on tiptoes (on all fours) and as long as she receives interesting food at regular intervals (now she is crawling, she's constantly hungry) she is happy. Weeza took her to be weighed and measured this week. She is tall and slim - much less chubby than any of the rest of the family as babies, although she does have little rolls of chub at the top of her thighs, under her chin and the back of her neck, and she's not thin. She's grown much taller - I think Weeza said 77cm which is, as Weeza pointed out, "nearly half a Granny."
I drove Ro to work, as he was going to come to Lowestoft by train from Norwich. We left just before 7.30, he was in the office by 8 and I arrived to fetch Weeza and Zerlina in time for breakfast. It's Zerlina's second auction, we indoctrinate them young so that they can be put to work as soon as the start of the sale and bedtime don't coincide. She was enchanting, and much admired. She smiles constantly, demonstrates crawling and standing on tiptoes (on all fours) and as long as she receives interesting food at regular intervals (now she is crawling, she's constantly hungry) she is happy. Weeza took her to be weighed and measured this week. She is tall and slim - much less chubby than any of the rest of the family as babies, although she does have little rolls of chub at the top of her thighs, under her chin and the back of her neck, and she's not thin. She's grown much taller - I think Weeza said 77cm which is, as Weeza pointed out, "nearly half a Granny."
Friday, 24 April 2009
To Stop Z's Coffin'?
...as the undertaker might say to the chemist.
I woke up coughing at 6 o'clock this morning. I reached out for the glass of water placed prudently on the bedside table. I aimed it towards my mouth. Pity I was still lying on my side.
Anyway, when I actually woke properly to get up, I heard the cuckoo. I suppose everyone else has heard it for the past three weeks, but I haven't.
It is, of course, obligatory to use the definite article in reference to the cuckoo. I don't know why.
I woke up coughing at 6 o'clock this morning. I reached out for the glass of water placed prudently on the bedside table. I aimed it towards my mouth. Pity I was still lying on my side.
Anyway, when I actually woke properly to get up, I heard the cuckoo. I suppose everyone else has heard it for the past three weeks, but I haven't.
It is, of course, obligatory to use the definite article in reference to the cuckoo. I don't know why.
Thursday, 23 April 2009
Z sources Salt
I am indebted to Simon for sending me to this site. For a moment, I was enthused, since the extremely-South-Norfolk - so far to the south that my postal address includes the word 'Suffolk' - area isn't so far marked. But then I realised that this is not exactly a Norfolk (however 'n'good) blog. Once, I was offered a place among religious bloggers, once women's and once British. But, though I touch on all these things, I don't think I have a theme at all. It's just a ramble through my life as I portray it at the moment I sit here and write.
But what really put me off was the notion that I should write specific posts, and call them 'BlogNor09'. I'm sorry, I can't. It feels like selling myself in some obscure way, and not even to an attractive title.
Nonetheless, I wish them well, especially since JonnyB is already linked as a contributor. Even though, and this is something that quite annoys me, they only put one post to a page. I like to browse a bit, to read past posts, even if I've already seen them. If I have to click to 'older posts' and then wait for the single post to load (that is one thing to mention about rural Norfolk; that Broadband becomes ever slower) I can't be bothered. I'll go to the feedreader and read them all together.
Anyway, dinner is cooking. Roast Norfolk chicken, roast Norfolk potatoes, Norfolk asparagus, Norfolk purple sprouting broccoli. We'll draw a veil over the sweet potatoes, the shallots and garlic, and the salt is from Essex. The wine, as it happens, is not particularly delicious, but was really quite cheap, and comes from Chile.
Tomorrow, it is our auction, of 18th century Suffolk china. From Lowestoft, indeed, which is itself only 5 miles from Norfolk.
But what really put me off was the notion that I should write specific posts, and call them 'BlogNor09'. I'm sorry, I can't. It feels like selling myself in some obscure way, and not even to an attractive title.
Nonetheless, I wish them well, especially since JonnyB is already linked as a contributor. Even though, and this is something that quite annoys me, they only put one post to a page. I like to browse a bit, to read past posts, even if I've already seen them. If I have to click to 'older posts' and then wait for the single post to load (that is one thing to mention about rural Norfolk; that Broadband becomes ever slower) I can't be bothered. I'll go to the feedreader and read them all together.
Anyway, dinner is cooking. Roast Norfolk chicken, roast Norfolk potatoes, Norfolk asparagus, Norfolk purple sprouting broccoli. We'll draw a veil over the sweet potatoes, the shallots and garlic, and the salt is from Essex. The wine, as it happens, is not particularly delicious, but was really quite cheap, and comes from Chile.
Tomorrow, it is our auction, of 18th century Suffolk china. From Lowestoft, indeed, which is itself only 5 miles from Norfolk.
Wednesday, 22 April 2009
Pleasures
Small pleasure of the day - setting off the warning speed light in Bridge Street as I sailed down the hill on my bike. It's a 20mph limit, but still made me smile.
Big pleasure of the day - Weeza and Dilly persuaded me that I could take time off to go to the park with them and the children. It was lovely in the sunshine, we had a picnic and, since no one else was there so that I could be looked upon with disapproval for going on the children's play equipment, I had a lovely swing. Weeza took my picture to prove it.
Slight bummer of the day - it was the church AGM, and I had to write a report. This catches me out every year; I forget. I remembered this year, but only did it this afternoon (I'd have done it earlier if I hadn't gone to the park...). However, it sounded awfully impressive.
Extra pleasure of the day - Friend Daphne is here and it's lovely to see her. She lives near Canterbury - it's a bit more than 3 hours drive away, just a bit too much for a casual lunchtime visit. We've all our various commitments so don't see each other as often as we'd like. She and the Sage have known each other for over 50 years, since she moved here from India, where her father had been an army Colonel.
Big pleasure of the day - Weeza and Dilly persuaded me that I could take time off to go to the park with them and the children. It was lovely in the sunshine, we had a picnic and, since no one else was there so that I could be looked upon with disapproval for going on the children's play equipment, I had a lovely swing. Weeza took my picture to prove it.
Slight bummer of the day - it was the church AGM, and I had to write a report. This catches me out every year; I forget. I remembered this year, but only did it this afternoon (I'd have done it earlier if I hadn't gone to the park...). However, it sounded awfully impressive.
Extra pleasure of the day - Friend Daphne is here and it's lovely to see her. She lives near Canterbury - it's a bit more than 3 hours drive away, just a bit too much for a casual lunchtime visit. We've all our various commitments so don't see each other as often as we'd like. She and the Sage have known each other for over 50 years, since she moved here from India, where her father had been an army Colonel.
Tuesday, 21 April 2009
It appears that Z, asking for help, is irresistible
It's been a good day, it seems. Today's lecture was excellent, and it was a pleasure to deliver the vote of thanks although, since I'm not ever so au fait with most of the Scottish Colourists (better with the Glasgow Boys, less again with the Glasgow Girls who are superb) I was really speaking off the cuff from knowledge gleaned during an hour's lecture.
Anyhoo, before the lecture, in my introduction'n'notices (yes darlings, I do that too) I asked if anyone might be interested in being the next Treasurer? I said that Nick, the present incumbent, declares that it's the easiest job on the committee and a particular doddle if you can do it on an Excel spreadsheet (I swear, I nearly offered to do the job myself) and I was able to add, truthfully, that it's the friendliest and most purposeful committee I've ever been on. Nevertheless, I was surprised and pleased when a chap rang up this evening who is considering putting himself forward for the job. I've asked Nick to contact him to tell him what's entailed, and my fingers are crossed.
So, I had a couple of hours of purposeful shopping to put in. In that time, I bought a few bits and pieces (such as paper hankies in those little travel packs) and, more necessarily, 4 pairs of shoes, 1 handbag, 1 pair of trousers, 1 skirt and 1 top. 4 pairs of shoes might seem a bit of a lot, but I don't remember buying any at all last year, and quite a few of my shoes are fairly unwearable now because they are too high or too low heeled. I put my little lift in each right shoe and they all seem fine. One is an impressively purposeful pair of (look, excuse the vagueness, I don't buy this sort of thing normally) the sort of walking boots that look like trainers. I'm not a trainer girl, I'm a high heel girl at heart, but I'm going to do a lot of walking next week and I'm a reformed (that is, no longer stupid) character these days.
The trousers, now that's odd. I tried 3 pairs. The first was a size 12 and it fitted, but was more suited for someone younger, frankly. A bit too figure-hugging. The second, size 10, was fine. The third, size 10 again, was too small. I could barely do it up. The odd thing is that they were all the same make.
In the next shop, I cautiously (since it was a Petite range) took a size 10 and a size 12 skirt into the changing room. The 10 was fine. Especially if I diet strenuously for the next few days. Um, was Spaghetti Carbonara the best choice for dinner tonight? But...it's so tasty........
Another phone call this evening was from the church treasurer, whose official form doesn't quite take into account the intricacies of our accounts (I'd explain, but your eyes are glazing already, so I'll be kind). Anyway, all she needs to do is explain what she's done and why to a Person of Authority. So could I call round tonight? - AGM tomorrow. Of course. Hm, what about my wine intake? Pfft, I'll go on my bike. So that'll be fine.
I'm off now. Have a most lovely evening, dear hearts, and I'll see you tomorrow.
Anyhoo, before the lecture, in my introduction'n'notices (yes darlings, I do that too) I asked if anyone might be interested in being the next Treasurer? I said that Nick, the present incumbent, declares that it's the easiest job on the committee and a particular doddle if you can do it on an Excel spreadsheet (I swear, I nearly offered to do the job myself) and I was able to add, truthfully, that it's the friendliest and most purposeful committee I've ever been on. Nevertheless, I was surprised and pleased when a chap rang up this evening who is considering putting himself forward for the job. I've asked Nick to contact him to tell him what's entailed, and my fingers are crossed.
So, I had a couple of hours of purposeful shopping to put in. In that time, I bought a few bits and pieces (such as paper hankies in those little travel packs) and, more necessarily, 4 pairs of shoes, 1 handbag, 1 pair of trousers, 1 skirt and 1 top. 4 pairs of shoes might seem a bit of a lot, but I don't remember buying any at all last year, and quite a few of my shoes are fairly unwearable now because they are too high or too low heeled. I put my little lift in each right shoe and they all seem fine. One is an impressively purposeful pair of (look, excuse the vagueness, I don't buy this sort of thing normally) the sort of walking boots that look like trainers. I'm not a trainer girl, I'm a high heel girl at heart, but I'm going to do a lot of walking next week and I'm a reformed (that is, no longer stupid) character these days.
The trousers, now that's odd. I tried 3 pairs. The first was a size 12 and it fitted, but was more suited for someone younger, frankly. A bit too figure-hugging. The second, size 10, was fine. The third, size 10 again, was too small. I could barely do it up. The odd thing is that they were all the same make.
In the next shop, I cautiously (since it was a Petite range) took a size 10 and a size 12 skirt into the changing room. The 10 was fine. Especially if I diet strenuously for the next few days. Um, was Spaghetti Carbonara the best choice for dinner tonight? But...it's so tasty........
Another phone call this evening was from the church treasurer, whose official form doesn't quite take into account the intricacies of our accounts (I'd explain, but your eyes are glazing already, so I'll be kind). Anyway, all she needs to do is explain what she's done and why to a Person of Authority. So could I call round tonight? - AGM tomorrow. Of course. Hm, what about my wine intake? Pfft, I'll go on my bike. So that'll be fine.
I'm off now. Have a most lovely evening, dear hearts, and I'll see you tomorrow.
Post early, post often
I lost yesterday, in blogging terms - that is, the post I wrote was published at 5.30 this morning, although I wrote it last night (and then backdated it to before midnight). I don't think this demonstrates obsessive behaviour, oh no indeed.
Ro didn't do anything about the internet connection; he said it might fix itself. So I restarted both boxes again this morning and after about half an hour I gained a tentative connection.
Having been very tired the other evening and gone to bed early, I've been earlyish each night since - all that sea air on Sunday made me sleepy and I seemed to be following a pattern by then. However, last night I had a reminder of why it suits me better to go to bed after midnight. Having been tucked up in dreamland by 11, I was awake by 3 and haven't slept since. Back to normal hours tonight, I think.
Ro didn't do anything about the internet connection; he said it might fix itself. So I restarted both boxes again this morning and after about half an hour I gained a tentative connection.
Having been very tired the other evening and gone to bed early, I've been earlyish each night since - all that sea air on Sunday made me sleepy and I seemed to be following a pattern by then. However, last night I had a reminder of why it suits me better to go to bed after midnight. Having been tucked up in dreamland by 11, I was awake by 3 and haven't slept since. Back to normal hours tonight, I think.
Monday, 20 April 2009
Ephemera
As I write, I have no internet connection, so I’m writing this in Word, ready for when Ro solves the problem, assuming it’s capable of solution by my Little Computer Wiz. I did what I could – I moved the monitor around a bit, I restarted, I restarted the hub, I restarted the computer again and them I asked Ro if his computer had internet. That is my limit. What I’ll do when he buys a home of his own is beyond me.
I have finally potted up all the tomatoes, peppers (sweet and hot) and aubergines, and sowed all the spring-sown seeds. I’ve also planted in bigger pots the first courgette plants. I am eyeing several dozen others with some anxiety, because if I don’t do them on Thursday they will have to wait at least ten days. Courgette plants (zucchini, if you prefer) grow a lot in ten days.
I’m doing well in some ways. I went to the chemist today and bought fresh supplies of make-up and similar dull but necessary things (I optimistically bought sunscreen, darlings!) in initial preparation for my hols. I really think I can manage with hand baggage, taking the barest liquid essentials in the clear plastic bag I’m disappointed to find I still need to take, plus two pairs of shoes, two skirts, two pairs of trousers, several teeshirts, a couple of tops for evenings and very little else. Well, knickers and similar unmentionables. Hotels always provide soap, shampoo and the rest, and I can wear a jacket. It’ll be fine, and there will be no waiting around dismally by the carousel while the final three items of baggage are loaded. Why is it that, however long you wait, something that isn’t yours always remains unclaimed?
Before then, I’ve a dispiriting amount of stuff to finish. I ducked out of a day-long thing at the school today – really, I was too busy and it was a ‘jolly good show, carry on chaps’ occasion if I’d gone, which isn’t really useful. Another governor, who would be useful, was going anyway.
That reminds me. I meant to send an email about Friday, when I usually go in to school for a music lesson, but I can’t. Nor can I send the email. Oh dear. I’ll have to drop in a note tomorrow if Ro can’t get the connection up. Which, since he doesn’t need it right now, he’s not attempting to do.
Hm. It’s odd, writing in the ‘wrong’ font and setting. I know that the good bloggers draft and hone, but I don’t. I write in Blogger, press ‘Publish’, read through to check for howlers – most of which I still miss – and that’s it. A friend keeps telling me to do back-ups, but I never have. It’s all trivial, really, and I’m quite happy for it to remain ephemeral, to be forgotten as quickly by you as it is by me.
I have finally potted up all the tomatoes, peppers (sweet and hot) and aubergines, and sowed all the spring-sown seeds. I’ve also planted in bigger pots the first courgette plants. I am eyeing several dozen others with some anxiety, because if I don’t do them on Thursday they will have to wait at least ten days. Courgette plants (zucchini, if you prefer) grow a lot in ten days.
I’m doing well in some ways. I went to the chemist today and bought fresh supplies of make-up and similar dull but necessary things (I optimistically bought sunscreen, darlings!) in initial preparation for my hols. I really think I can manage with hand baggage, taking the barest liquid essentials in the clear plastic bag I’m disappointed to find I still need to take, plus two pairs of shoes, two skirts, two pairs of trousers, several teeshirts, a couple of tops for evenings and very little else. Well, knickers and similar unmentionables. Hotels always provide soap, shampoo and the rest, and I can wear a jacket. It’ll be fine, and there will be no waiting around dismally by the carousel while the final three items of baggage are loaded. Why is it that, however long you wait, something that isn’t yours always remains unclaimed?
Before then, I’ve a dispiriting amount of stuff to finish. I ducked out of a day-long thing at the school today – really, I was too busy and it was a ‘jolly good show, carry on chaps’ occasion if I’d gone, which isn’t really useful. Another governor, who would be useful, was going anyway.
That reminds me. I meant to send an email about Friday, when I usually go in to school for a music lesson, but I can’t. Nor can I send the email. Oh dear. I’ll have to drop in a note tomorrow if Ro can’t get the connection up. Which, since he doesn’t need it right now, he’s not attempting to do.
Hm. It’s odd, writing in the ‘wrong’ font and setting. I know that the good bloggers draft and hone, but I don’t. I write in Blogger, press ‘Publish’, read through to check for howlers – most of which I still miss – and that’s it. A friend keeps telling me to do back-ups, but I never have. It’s all trivial, really, and I’m quite happy for it to remain ephemeral, to be forgotten as quickly by you as it is by me.
Sunday, 19 April 2009
Z goes out, on a whim (but not her own)
At about 3.30, Al came through and said they'd all decided to go out ("as a family", isn't that sweet?) to Southwold, and home via the splendid fish & chip shop at Pakefield - would we all like to come? The Sage said it was too late a return for the bantams, as they'd all be roosting in trees and he would spend half the evening catching them and putting them to bed. Ro said he had too much work to do. I said I had more potting on to do - pfft, I'd love to come.
It had been a cold, dull morning until the sun came out, and then it turned hot and lovely, albeit with a strong wind. Southwold was quite busy, although not many hardy people were still on the beach at 4 o'clock. We walked to the pier, watched the activities of the water clock at 4.30 and then spent half an hour building sandcastles. At Pakefield, we ate fish and chips on the green by the cliff, walked a few yards to show the children where their daddy had lived for 10 years (if you know Lowestoft, it's the Old Rectory, which was in the news a few weeks ago as the former home of the chap who bought it from us, who has recently gone to prison. A story which upsets me) and then drove past the house where we lived for the first year of Al's life.
This morning, I was busy after the service getting nominations for the PCC. The treasurer was a bit upset - nothing to do with me or anyone in the church - and wasn't sure she wanted to carry on. I didn't try to persuade her, I just listened to her and said how I'd try to put things right for next time; that she worked so hard it wouldn't be fair to push her into doing something she had doubts about but that I hoped she knew how much she was appreciated. I meant it of course - I don't do flannel - and she considered it and said she'll stand again. I'm very relieved; quite apart from the problem of having three days to find yet another treasurer, it would be awful to have a really fine person driven away, quite unintentionally, by another, equally fine, who was maybe seen as being more pernickety than was required in the circumstances. I've written and addressed that person's concerns tonight, with sincere thanks for the work done. I know, you'll call me a creep. I deny it, but agree that I'm a peacemaker and a negotiator. I also think it's important that each person in a disagreement keeps his sense of self-worth and doesn't feel he hasn't had his point of view taken into account.
It had been a cold, dull morning until the sun came out, and then it turned hot and lovely, albeit with a strong wind. Southwold was quite busy, although not many hardy people were still on the beach at 4 o'clock. We walked to the pier, watched the activities of the water clock at 4.30 and then spent half an hour building sandcastles. At Pakefield, we ate fish and chips on the green by the cliff, walked a few yards to show the children where their daddy had lived for 10 years (if you know Lowestoft, it's the Old Rectory, which was in the news a few weeks ago as the former home of the chap who bought it from us, who has recently gone to prison. A story which upsets me) and then drove past the house where we lived for the first year of Al's life.
This morning, I was busy after the service getting nominations for the PCC. The treasurer was a bit upset - nothing to do with me or anyone in the church - and wasn't sure she wanted to carry on. I didn't try to persuade her, I just listened to her and said how I'd try to put things right for next time; that she worked so hard it wouldn't be fair to push her into doing something she had doubts about but that I hoped she knew how much she was appreciated. I meant it of course - I don't do flannel - and she considered it and said she'll stand again. I'm very relieved; quite apart from the problem of having three days to find yet another treasurer, it would be awful to have a really fine person driven away, quite unintentionally, by another, equally fine, who was maybe seen as being more pernickety than was required in the circumstances. I've written and addressed that person's concerns tonight, with sincere thanks for the work done. I know, you'll call me a creep. I deny it, but agree that I'm a peacemaker and a negotiator. I also think it's important that each person in a disagreement keeps his sense of self-worth and doesn't feel he hasn't had his point of view taken into account.
Saturday, 18 April 2009
Z goes out on a whim
To start with, my apologies for having turned on word verification. There's a whole spate of spam comments in Chinese (or similar language that I can't understand) on a lot of blogs at the moment and, whilst I haven't had any, I don't want them and nor do I want any of you lovely people who have commented and signed up for notification of replies to receive them either. As a lesser of two evils, please excuse it - I trust that Blogger will get on the case and intervene to stop them before long. Spam seems to come in waves, doesn't it?
Weeza wants to buy a bike. She still has her old one here, but she hasn't ridden it since she was at school. Phil cycles a lot - 15 miles or more a day as part of his commute to start with, and then he enjoys going out for a bike ride at the weekend. He biked over here last Sunday; 22 miles each way. There's some really pretty countryside around where they live and they want to get a child's trailer to go on the back. They are extremely expensive new, so they're investigating second-hand.
The Sage is just pouring me a glass of wine. Isn't he a constant delight? This morning, he asked if there was anything I needed, so I suggested he buy dinner to save me going out shopping. Then I went out anyway, as Wink was. We wanted to check her new satnav, which turned up impressively quickly - ordered on Tuesday evening, shipped on Thursday, arrived on Friday afternoon and all seems well. She left after lunch today and arrived at Warminster (not where she lives, but where her chap, Bod lives) just on 4 hours later. It's 230 miles to her house, but maybe a little less to reach Bod, I'm not sure.
The Sage has scrubbed the Jersey Royals, put them on to cook and is heating the grill for me. I think he deserves a kiss. He also mowed the lawn this evening, which is splendid. I daresay all of you have cut the grass (those who have lawns, that is) several times already this year, but we take rather the same attitude to mowing as we do to dusting - it soon comes back so you might as well leave it until it's worth doing. I did say that I'd take over the mowing, as I think our petrol mower is a bit of a beast (I can't start it as the pull rope is too long for me to keep a foot on the machine to stop it from being pulled towards me as I yank) and it's too heavy for him, but I was assailed by indecision as to which to buy last year, so ended up forgetting about it through the winter. I'll go out on a whim and get one, one day.
Still potting up plants. I've found another tray of tomatoes. Two more done, two to do. I've also been potting up courgettes. I sowed the Blue Hubbard squash plants and was a bit miffed to discover each packet, while saying 'average 10 seeds', only gave me 7. I might send a miffed email. I also sowed runner beans. 252 of them so far, with about another 60 to go. Indeed, we are fond of runner beans, but Al will sell most of the plants.
One thing I like to do, when on holiday, is buy packets of seeds. It's a memento of the trip, to grow plants from it the next year. I also, often, buy a little purse. As something I handle every day, I think it makes a cheery little memory of the occasion. I'm using the soft little leather one I bought in Krakow 2 years ago still. It cost about 40p and I've had to mend it a bit, but it takes coins, a few cards - credit, library, blood donor, debit, and some stamps, and I like it very much. I bought my last purse in India - in Udaipur, I think.
Weeza wants to buy a bike. She still has her old one here, but she hasn't ridden it since she was at school. Phil cycles a lot - 15 miles or more a day as part of his commute to start with, and then he enjoys going out for a bike ride at the weekend. He biked over here last Sunday; 22 miles each way. There's some really pretty countryside around where they live and they want to get a child's trailer to go on the back. They are extremely expensive new, so they're investigating second-hand.
The Sage is just pouring me a glass of wine. Isn't he a constant delight? This morning, he asked if there was anything I needed, so I suggested he buy dinner to save me going out shopping. Then I went out anyway, as Wink was. We wanted to check her new satnav, which turned up impressively quickly - ordered on Tuesday evening, shipped on Thursday, arrived on Friday afternoon and all seems well. She left after lunch today and arrived at Warminster (not where she lives, but where her chap, Bod lives) just on 4 hours later. It's 230 miles to her house, but maybe a little less to reach Bod, I'm not sure.
The Sage has scrubbed the Jersey Royals, put them on to cook and is heating the grill for me. I think he deserves a kiss. He also mowed the lawn this evening, which is splendid. I daresay all of you have cut the grass (those who have lawns, that is) several times already this year, but we take rather the same attitude to mowing as we do to dusting - it soon comes back so you might as well leave it until it's worth doing. I did say that I'd take over the mowing, as I think our petrol mower is a bit of a beast (I can't start it as the pull rope is too long for me to keep a foot on the machine to stop it from being pulled towards me as I yank) and it's too heavy for him, but I was assailed by indecision as to which to buy last year, so ended up forgetting about it through the winter. I'll go out on a whim and get one, one day.
Still potting up plants. I've found another tray of tomatoes. Two more done, two to do. I've also been potting up courgettes. I sowed the Blue Hubbard squash plants and was a bit miffed to discover each packet, while saying 'average 10 seeds', only gave me 7. I might send a miffed email. I also sowed runner beans. 252 of them so far, with about another 60 to go. Indeed, we are fond of runner beans, but Al will sell most of the plants.
One thing I like to do, when on holiday, is buy packets of seeds. It's a memento of the trip, to grow plants from it the next year. I also, often, buy a little purse. As something I handle every day, I think it makes a cheery little memory of the occasion. I'm using the soft little leather one I bought in Krakow 2 years ago still. It cost about 40p and I've had to mend it a bit, but it takes coins, a few cards - credit, library, blood donor, debit, and some stamps, and I like it very much. I bought my last purse in India - in Udaipur, I think.
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