Does anyone else have the problems I do in choosing greetings cards? Every time I go in a card shop to buy a card my brain fuses. It isn’t the massive amount of choice in cards, it is because I have such difficulty finding any cards that I would actually want to buy.

Virtually every card is addressed to someone – and nowadays the cards will be clearly marked on the front of the card as for: husband, wife, brother, sister, friend, best friend, fiancee, aunt, uncle, gay lover, dog or cat (I’m not joking about these last three, I have actually seen greeting cards for sale addressed to them). And inside these cards is some sickly sentimental verse which usually is so bad it makes William McGonagall seem like the poet laureate. (The standard of verse in Valentine’s cards is especially notable.)

The less said about the so-called “funny” cards the better. I usually look for something like this for my nephew (aged 22, and so of the right age to receive such a card). You have to plough through a huge amount of dross to find anything that is reasonably humorous without being totally offensive. Who on earth sends some of these cards with humour that borders on the obscene? And what does the recipient think?

What is wrong with a nice card with a nice picture on the front which says inside “Happy Birthday”? That’s what I like to find but usually I have the dickens of a job to find anything suitable. I like to think that by sending a card that it goes without saying that I am thinking of the person. I don’t need to send card with some meaningless verse inside to say so.

The local card shop is exceptionally large and full of cards. But those of the type I like fill just a couple of feet of space in the very back of the shop and I generally have to hunt to find them. And even then the choice of decorations on the front of the cards often does not inspire. I can usually find something suitable for a lady with perhaps flowers or something else feminine and pretty on the front. But try to find a card for a man. Just what “manly” picture do you find on the front of a card? Racing cars, yachts and then only if you are lucky.

Often nowadays I go for a card with no writing inside. That always seems the best option. Then I can chose something with a picture I like and am suitable for the person I am sending it to and write something suitable inside.

Am I being too picky about greetings cards? I am just aware of a close friend who was sent an ordinary Christmas card with a printed verse inside that wished her “the best Christmas ever” two months after the death of her son. It was obviously done totally unthinkingly by a sender who just hadn’t thought of what was printed in the card. But seeing how much hurt that card caused made me think twice and forever about the potential impact of a sent greetings card.

HMS Dasher

On 27 March 1943 HMS Dasher exploded and sank with the loss of 379 lives.

Dasher was built in America but was commissioned into the Royal Navy the following year. Such ships were desperately needed to provide air cover for the Atlantic convoys. These were Britain’s lifeline and were being remorselessly attacked by German submarines. In 1943 the ship’s flight deck was extended by 42 feet and it began to carry Fairey Swordfish aircraft. It undertook one mission successfully but after its second mission it suffered a major internal explosion and sank into the Firth of Clyde.

Various possible causes have been suggested for the explosion but exactly what happened has to date not been officially recognised. Her death toll, 379 out of 528 crewmen despite rapid response and assistance from local ships and rescue craft was amongst the highest in British home waters. Immediately after the explosion there was an official cover-up aimed at concealing what was a significant loss both in Naval and human terms.

One theory for the explosion and sinking of HMS Dasher is that a Swordfish aircraft failed correctly to land on the Dasher’s flight deck but instead crashed into the ship itself. This view is strongly held by several who remember seeing this happen, including a young woman who was taking her infant son for a walk on the sea front.

Another witness was a young naval telegraphist on a tank landing craft nearby. His name was George Humphreys and he is my Father-in-Law. For years he has talked of the day he saw a Swordfish aircraft hit the Dasher, after which he saw the ship explode. He originally told the Husband of this in 1960 and his story of the actual incident has not changed over the years.

On 28th, 29th and 30th March 2008, 65 years after the explosion and sinking, there was a memorial weekend for HMS Dasher. My Husband and his father flew up to Glasgow to become part of the ceremony and to meet some of the others also acknowledging the incident with their hearts and minds. Ceremonies took place where wreaths were laid at the memorial gardens at Ardrossan. The ferry that usually runs between Ardrossan and the Isle of Arran took a small detour to the site of the wreck, a further ceremony took place and the Father-in-law laid a wreath in the sea on behalf of both those who lost their lives in the explosion and its aftermath and also his friends who died during the Second World War.

George still feels very strongly of the need to remember those who were lost during the War, his memories are still sharp of that time. Those he met at the memorial weekend feel the same. It is easy to belittle these thoughts and feelings as being those of the old, but important to remember the lives and times then. They are a part of our history and a sharp reminder of the cost of the freedom we are lucky enough to enjoy.

Above is a picture of George Humphreys as a young naval rating during the war. Below is one of him laying a wreath overboard at the site of the wreck.

HMS DASHER (27 March 1943)

This is what the Husband and the Father-in-law did a few days ago.

Easter is finally over. It seemed to go on for an awfully long time.

Easter always starts in our family on Maundy Thursday, not surprising as the Husband and I are both former civil servants and Maundy Thursday is still a noticeable day for the British civil service. And so we started with a big family meal in the evening with lots to celebrate as this was the day that the Stepdaughter finished her current job. The next day (Good Friday) she was setting off for Australia for a 3 week holiday and when she returns she starts a new job that she really looking forward to and at a considerable rise in salary. So she brought two bottles of champagne which we drunk during the meal which, which added to the usual wine made the amount for us to drink more than enough for four people. A good time was had by all.

Good Friday the Stepdaughter set off to Australia (not from Terminal 5, thank goodness), the Stepson disappeared meeting old friends and the Husband and I recovered from the night before. Later in the weekend we drove to Whitstable and picked up the Father-in-law, so that he could spend some time with us. We are conscious that he finds being alone difficult, especially after the death of his wife last October. We came back here and the Stepson came over. We spent that day and the next eating and talking. The day after we took the Father-in-Law home the Husband and the Stepson went up to London to go around the Royal Botanic Gardens at Kew and to see the Henry Moore sculptures on exhibition there. Too far for me to walk and anyway, all I wanted to do was to curl up in bed with the Cold From Hell which had appeared a few days earlier.

By this time Easter was officially over but it all still felt like part of the Bank Holiday, what with all the family things still going on. The Thursday after Easter became a special day for the Husband and his father as they set off for something special. I’ll describe this in much more detail, and the reason for the trip on another occasion but just to say now that they were away from home for four days. I spent most of the time in bed still with the Cold from Hell and was grateful for it.

The Husband returned home and things returned to normal on Monday. Easter is over at last. And I’m still croaking and coughing but at least the worse of it has gone.

Like most people I carry a mobile phone around with me whenever I am out of the house. Its now an essential piece of equipment for modern life, like carrying my glasses and my credit cards. The trouble is that I’ve been cursing my old mobile for ages because although it worked well, recharging it was a real pain. Connecting it to the charger was so very fiddly and I’ve lost count of the number of times I’ve spent a long time and lots of curses trying to get the connection just right so that the phone would recharge.

After a couple of years of this I decided out of sheer exasperation to make a change and started looking around for a new mobile phone last November. The trouble is that I am one of those people who find themselves baffled by too much choice. I can remember years ago, long before I was married, going into the local Toys-R-Us for a Christmas present for my young nephew and leaving with empty hands after a couple of hours as I was just totally confused and baffled at the amount of choice available. There are so many different mobile phone models around, all with different facilities and all at different prices that my brain fused every time I went into my local mobile phone shop. And I’ve been going into the shop virtually every week, staring at the display of all the different models, failing to make a decision and beating a hasty retreat.

Then this Thursday I saw this one. Not black as in the photograph but purple. Just what a Red Hatter needs. It not only caught my eye, the price was reasonable and it has lots of facilities that I can play with. So I bought it, with real relief that my ordeal was finally over. Orange (the mobile phone service I use and have always received good service) transferred my (old) phone number to my new mobile overnight, and Yesterday it became my new phone.

The first thing I did was to download onto my new phone a tune to become its new ringtone. Too many times I have been on a train or on a station and an ordinary ringtone has gone off and everyone in listening distance has reached for their own mobile phone to see whether it was theirs ringing. I did not want that, I wanted a ringtone that was special to me alone. So my old phone had the music from Mission Impossible (the tv series); this one has the film music from Superman (the original film – I’ve always loved John Williams music from this film). I am unlikely to find too many other people reaching for their mobiles if someone rings me.

I’ve got a lot to learn about my new phone and much I can do with it, from downloading music onto it to learning how to use its FM radio. Those I shall learn and play with over the future months. For the moment I have a phone that works effectively. And isn’t a pain to recharge.

The other day I’d moaned like the dickens here when virtually everything that could have gone wrong in my life did, although it was just lots of little things. I’m feeling a lot more cheerful now, although I can’t think of anything in particular that happened. I just got on with things and it all got better.

Last Thursday, though, I didn’t spend all day alone after all, because the Husband did a real Man thing. Last year he walked a minimum of 16 – 18 miles every day and became really fit. He stopped walking last October and winter put him off walking. As the weather has started to improve and the first vestiges of spring started to appear he decided that now was the time to start walking again. So, last Tuesday he walked 8 miles. And in the evening he complained that his feet hurt but that didn’t stop him walking 16 miles on Wednesday. He could hardly walk by the evening and was little better on Thursday morning. So he decided just to go up to London for the evening concert as he wasn’t up to walking around London and walking around exhibitions. So I wasn’t alone all day Thursday after all.

Friday I was, as he had another concert in the evening and felt able to walk during the day. But I wasn’t feeling down and enjoyed the solitude. I also managed to watch a DVD I was given for Christmas but that the Husband didn’t want to watch.

Sunday was nice as I am a member of the Crimson Crumblies, the Red Hat chapter based in Chelmsford and yesterday was the chapter’s third birthday and we all went around to our Queen’s house for tea and chatter. There was about 12 – 13 of us there, some of our members couldn’t make it, and a good time was had by all.

Today is not a nice day to be out as GB is being lashed by heavy rain and high winds. I was woken by the weather early this morning and it hasn't abated. We are staying indoors today in the dry and the warm. The only flaw at this moment is that the Husband is listening to Berg, not my idea of fun.

Dogs in Elk

I am crying with laughter. As I write this I cannot see the keys properly because of the tears (of laughter) in my eyes. The mental images I have.....

You can read it here: http://dir.salon.com/story/tt/post/2005/10/19/posts_of_the_decade/index.html

This is a post of me moaning. Avoid if you wish. I just want to get it all off my chest.

Yesterday was one of those days when I wished I had never got out of bed. Everything that could have gone wrong did.

First I had made arrangements for a Red Hat visit to the "From Russia" exhibition in the Royal Academy of Arts in Picadilly for this Thursday. But it had over the last few days became clear that this date wasn't suitable for many and so I've rearranged the visit for April. Fine for the many but I was looking out for something to do out of the house this week, especially as the Husband is out for two days.

Then I had a phone call to say that the day course in British Prehistory I was going to do on this Saturday had been cancelled due to lack of interest. I am fascinated by the subject. Clearly no-one else is.

Then the doctor had arranged an appointment for me to see the nurse to have my blood pressure checked. That was yesterday afternoon. Only the nurse decided to discuss my "lifestyle" and started wittering on about eating less and walking more. When I left the surgery I bought a big bar of chocolate. And ate it. I've spent my whole life being told what to do - first my parents and then, of course, at work. Now I'm free and NO ONE tells me what to do anymore.

I should have made some soup but I forgot to buy the onions. So the poor Husband went out again just to buy some for me. He is kind and knew how fed up I was.

Anyway, Monday is over and life goes on. Now what shall I do with the time that was formerly booked up?

Three of our Camellias are in bloom at the moment, only the white one has still to come out. The problem is that we are expecting snow and cold winds in the next couple of days and I suspect that these blossoms are soon to become damaged.

It's Mothering Sunday today and the Stepdaughter came around for most of the day. After lunch we watched the DVD the Husband has just bought - "Atonement", the one that has had all the plaudits and wone some Oscars and other awards. All three of us decided afterwards that it was one of the most depressing films we had ever seen and we all felt like slitting our wrists. So afterwards we watched "A Close Shave" with Wallace and Gromit, to cheer ourselves up. So the day ended up quite nicely after all.
.

A friend sent this to me. Real teamwork and friendship.

Sounds like good advice.

I'm not sure whether we are in Winter or in Spring. Neither seems to be the plants. We have had lots of the early Spring flowers out already, including crocuses, daffodills and snowdrops. Unfortunately the very, very mild weather we have been getting at regular intervals since December is being regularly interrupted by very bitter frosts at times. The first blossoms on our pink camellia came out two weeks ago, much earlier than usual, only to be very badly frosted last week. Still I suppose I shouldn't complain too much, living in a part of England that has lots of sunshine and mild weather and absolutely none of the heavy gales and snow that Northern England and Scotland has (sort of) enjoyed. I understand that Scotland has actually had a skiing industry this year, so much snow has fallen (unlike last year when there was no snow at all).

When I was a child my father had a favourite saying “from the sublime to the gorblimey”. I’m remembering that saying at the moment as it is an appropriate description of the last week and a bit.

Christmas was good although it was very clear that we are going through a new phase in life now that the kids have grown up. The Stepdaughter is 25, the Stepson is 21 and they want to be away spending time with their friends rather than to be with us, the old fogies. Nevertheless Christmas Day was good: the Stepdaughter and her boyfriend turning up in the morning, there was cooking for the big meal, eating and drinking, mid-afternoon the Stepson left to stay with his mother, an evening with the Stepdaughter and boyfriend who then went home. Boxing Day was even quieter as it was just the two of us.

The Thursday was expensive as the tv in the sitting room had started to play up so we braved the sales and found a new one. Having paid for it we discovered that it would be a while until it could be delivered – in fact Monday 14th (an irritation as our old one has now completely packed up).

Friday was quiet and we prepared for the following day’s drive to Cardiff to visit my mother. Little did I know….

When I awoke on Saturday I had a pain in my tummy, which I ignored. The drive to Cardiff was better than either of us had expected as the roads, usually some of the busiest in the country, were clear of major roadworks or jams. But by the time we had got there my abdominal pain had begun to get worse. But we saw my mother, who was delighted to see us and we stayed for a couple of hours which was as long as she could cope with. The less said about the journey back the better what with the pain and the nausea I was now feeling. So when we got home again I rang the out-of-hours GP and made an appointment for his clinic in the local hospital for after midnight and the Husband drove me there.

I saw the GP who immediately sent me next door to their A&E department. To cut a long story short I was admitted to the hospital with suspected appendicitis…or kidney stones…or gallstones, no-one was certain at that stage. There followed a series of tests and scans, as well as some heavy duty painkillers for which I was very relieved. Monday morning I received a visit from the hospital Urologist who informed me that my appendix is fine but that the scan had shown a kidney stone which was causing the problem. About 10 minutes after he left I had a personal experience of the separation of medical disciplines with the arrival of a General Surgical team which informed me that the scan had also shown that I had a supply of gallstones but they weren’t immediately causing any problems. Wonderful. The next couple of days were a mixture of drugs to get the kidney stone to move through my system and painkillers.

Yesterday the Urologist returned to say that things were clearly getting better and that I could go home that day. So the Husband picked me up in the afternoon and I am at home again. The terrible pain has gone, although my side is still a little tender, not surprising I suppose. And so I am taking it easy and hope soon to be well and up and doing things again.

Then I suppose I shall have to find out how to manage kidney stones and gallstones in future. I wonder how you can prevent them?

The Christmas Song sung by Nat King Cole

Happy Christmas everybody and may we all have a healthy and peaceful New Year.

One of the things we do when we put up Christmas decorations is to replace the normal candles in our big candle holder with Father Christmas ones.

Although we've done this for some years this time the Stepdaughter took a step back and said "those Father Christmasses are doing the Nazi salute"

Well, taking another look at them I feel that their arms are at the wrong angle for that. I feel that they are just waving at us.

They certainly give me seasonal feelings and nothing else.

Hmmm. I'm feeling a bit dubious at the moment. I've just back from an appointment with my doctor to monitor my blood pressure. Again. This time it was 150 over 85 which is a lot better than a few months ago when he first put me on BP pills. (Loathsome things - difficult to swallow as they disintegrate in the mouth.)

He said that as a last stand before doubling my BP medication I should use a home kit to monitor my BP every day - just in case visiting the surgery is making it go up. So I bought a kit from the chemists and am trying to learn how to use it. I'm not sure I've got it right though. Just now it said that I was 189 over 122. Either I'm not using it right or perhaps the mere effort of using it makes my BP go higher.

The Christmas Decorations are up

It took the Husband later than usual this year to decide to put up the decorations, not surprising given what he has been through. But in the last few days he decided the time is right and called the Stepdaughter around the other evening to help put them all up.

I've taken pictures of some of the decorations but not of the chains. Luckily these are chains we've had for years because it's now difficult to find them in the shops. I can't imagine why as I always feel that they give a really Christmassy feel to a room.


And yes, that's a picture of us to the left of the clock, taken on our wedding day. 14 years ago now.

How time flies.

Now This I Couldn't Resist

Which Historical Lunatic Are You?
From the fecund loins of Rum and Monkey.



You are Charles VI of France, also known as Charles the Mad or Charles the Well-Beloved! A fine, amiable and dreamy young man, skilled in horsemanship and archery, you were also from a long line of dribbling madmen. King at 12 and quickly married to your sweetheart, Bavarian Princess Isabeau, you enjoyed many happy months together before either of you could speak anything of the other's language. However, after illness you became a tad unstable. When a raving lunatic ran up to your entourage spouting an incoherent prophecy of doom, you were unsettled enough to slaughter four of your best men when a page dropped a lance. Your hair and nails fell out. At a royal masquerade, you and your courtiers dressed as wild men, ending in tragedy when four of them accidentally caught fire and burned to death. You were saved by the timely intervention of the Duchess of Berry's underskirts.


This brought on another bout of sickness, which surgeons countered by drilling holes in your skull. The following months saw you suffer an exorcism, beg your friends to kill you, go into hyperactive fits of gaiety, run through your rooms to the point of exhaustion, hide from imaginary assassins, claim your name was Georges, deny that you were King and fail to recognise your family. You smashed furniture and wet yourself at regular intervals. Passing briefly into erratic genius, you believed yourself to be made of glass and demanded iron rods in your attire to prevent you breaking.


In 1405 you stopped bathing, shaving or changing your clothes. This went on until several men were hired to blacken their faces, hide, jump out and shout "boo!", upon which you resumed basic hygiene. Despite this, your wife continued sleeping with you until 1407, when she hired a young beauty, Odette de Champdivers, to take her place. Isabeau then consoled herself, as it were, with your brother. Her lovers followed thick and fast while you became a pawn of your court, until you had her latest beau strangled and drowned.


A severe fever was fended off with oranges and pomegranates in vast quantities, but you succumbed again in 1422 and died. Your disease was most likely hereditary. Unfortunately, you had anywhere up to eleven children, who variously went on to develop capriciousness, great cruelty, insecurity, paranoia, revulsion towards food and, in one case, a phobia of bridges.

I’ll be glad when tomorrow comes and we’ll no longer be pestered by political canvassers. Yes, we’ve an election in this ward tomorrow. December is an odd time to have one but it has become necessary due to the exploits of our previous councillor, who was also Mayor for the Borough of Chelmsford.

You could, I suppose, call him a Naughty Boy. Personally I would call him a Complete Idiot. Let’s face it, if you are Mayor and are using a Council’s computer on official business then you don’t download child pornography onto that computer. Of course the police found out and undertook a formal investigation. And then the local media found out and so on and so forth. Finally he resigned as our councillor and as the Mayor.

There are four political parties all desperate to fill his place: the Conservatives, Labour, the Lib-Dems and even UKIP. The trouble for us is that they don’t have every ward in the Borough on which to disseminate their efforts and so this time everything is concentrated just on our ward. So we are being pestered and pestered. Hardly a day goes by without at least one paper or leaflet being thrust through our letterbox. I’ve had telephone calls and one candidate knocked on the door. Yesterday I handed to the Husband a handwritten envelope addressed to him that I assumed was a Christmas card. It wasn’t, it was another leaflet.

We’ve even had a leaflet from the UKIP candidate which really amused us. Talk about a total lack of understanding of the extent of power held by a local councillor: he clearly thinks that being elected will make him controller of our government. But other than that light relief we are just exasperated at the amount of stuff they have sent us. The paper recycling sack is full of it.

Oh well. It’s a prime lesson how the actions on one can affect the many. And the sooner tomorrow comes the better.

Yesterday was a good day, busy but good. The Stepson came back from Cambridge for the weekend, spent Saturday with his mother and came to us on Sunday and stayed overnight. His sister came round yesterday with her boyfriend.

It was just a normal Sunday really. I cooked a meal. Then we sat and talked and talked. The Husband pursuaded the Boyfriend, a techie in work life, to look at our computer. He did a lot to the machine but in the very limited time he had we still haven't worked out how to transfer files of audiobooks recorded from cassettes into iTunes. I'll have to have another look at that.

The Husband has just returned from driving the Stepson to visit a friend in Bishops Stortford and turning on the computer I see that the Step Daughter has sent us something that made us smile. Some of them make you think too. So, here it is....

The Philosophy of Ambiguity

1. Don't sweat the petty things and don't pet the sweaty things.
2. One tequila, two tequila, three tequila, floor....
3. Atheism is a non-prophet organization.
4. If man evolved from monkeys and apes, why do we still have monkeys and apes?
5. The main reason Santa is so jolly is because he knows where all the bad girls live.
6. I went to a bookstore and asked the saleswoman, "Where's the self-help section?" She said if she told me, it would defeat the purpose.
7. What if there were no hypothetical questions?
8. If a deaf person swears, does his mother wash his hands with soap?
9. If someone with multiple personalities threatens to kill himself, is it considered a hostage situation?
10. Is there another word for synonym?
11. Where do forest rangers go to "get away from it all?"
12. What do you do when you see an endangered animal eating an endangered plant?
13. If a parsley farmer is sued, can they garnish his wages?
14. Would a fly without wings be called a walk?
15 Why do they lock gas station bathrooms? Are they afraid someone will clean them?
16. If a turtle doesn't have a shell, is he homeless or naked?
17. Can vegetarians eat animal crackers?
18. If the police arrest a mute, do they tell him he has the right to remain silent?
19. Why do they put Braille on the drive-through bank machines?
20. How do they get deer to cross the road only at those yellow roadsigns?
21. What was the best thing before sliced bread?
22. One nice thing about egotists: They don't talk about other people.
23. Does the Little Mermaid wear an algebra?
24. Do infants enjoy infancy as much as adults enjoy adultery?
25. How is it possible to have a civil war?
26. If one synchronized swimmer drowns, do the rest drown too?
27. If you ate both pasta and antipasto, would you still be hungry?
28. If you try to fail, and succeed, which have you done?
29. Whose cruel idea was it for the word "Lisp" to have "S" in it?
30. Why are haemorrhoids called "haemorrhoids" instead of "assteroids"?
31. Why is it called tourist season if we can't shoot at them?
32. Why is there an expiration date on sour cream?
33. If you spin an oriental man in a circle three times does he become disoriented?
34. Can an atheist get insurance against acts of God?

Sometimes change is sad but inevitable.


When we moved into this house, about 12-13 years ago there was a cherry tree in the front garden, almost on on the boundary to the pavement. It had obviously been there for some years, we assume since the house was originally built. I used to enjoy the green leaves that really added something to the view from any of the front windows of the house from spring to autumn. And, of course, for about a week every Spring it was a mass of pink which decorated the entire street. For this beauty we used to put up with the layer of pink petals that used to cover every surface of the car, flower beds and drive immediately afterwards.


Anyway last spring there wasn't as many blossoms as usual, in fact they were very sparse. And as the summer continued leaves on the branches died several months prematurely. It became clear that the tree was in a poor way. I knew we had to do something about it and we had decided to remove it. I was getting a bit worried in fact as after every strong wind there would be twigs laying on the road and in the garden. My (always active) imagination began to play visions of a branch falling onto a passer-by on the pavement. But I'd no idea of where to find a good tree surgeon.


Then one day last week I heard the sound of a circular saw close by and looking out of the window I realised that one of the houses nearby was having some work done to their sycamore tree. In fact they too were having the tree chopped down. This was a magnificent specimen but I knew that they wanted to get rid of it and clearly they had found a company capable of doing the job. And to my eyes they looked very capable.


So I nipped along and had a word with one of them and asked for an estimate to remove the cherry tree. He had a look at it and told me that at some stage it had been pollarded and then left to grow naturally, something that always weakened a tree.


Two days later an estimate arrived in the post and it was much less than I expected both to cut down the tree and poison the roots. So yesterday I rang them up and asked them to do the task. Their first action was to contact the council to check that there were no planning restrictions on the tree and no preservation order. They rang us back this morning to say that they had heard from the council, all was well and they could do it today. I nipped down to the bank, for obvious reasons, and by the time I had returned home they had already started.



It didn't take them long. And when they put poison on the roots (to avoid suckers - a real problem with cherries) they also did so on my neighbour's sycamore, which explains how they happened to be in the area.


When he had finished the tree surgeon told us that the cherry's trunk was almost completely dead and that if left the branches could have been a health & safety hazard. So we were right to have the tree cut down.

But it hasn't stopped both of us feeling sad that the tree had to go. It was lovely in its prime. But life moves on. In the Spring I shall look for something pretty to cover the stump.

Upon due reflection I would have to say that my favourite piece of kitchen equipment is my stockpot. After I retired I started make a lot of soup and realised early on that my largest saucepan wasn't big enough and even the pan from the pressure cooker wasn't really up to the job. So we went shopping for a stockpot and bought the biggest and heaviest domestic one we could find. Even in a Debenhams 20% off sale it was still a lot of money but it was worth it, definitely. I use it frequently and it has the weight and the volume I need, although at times I still wish it was a bit bigger, especially if I've sized up a recipe as I often do. Anyway, here it is, full of scotch broth and sitting on a chopping board made by my father when I first left home. When he retired from work he developed a fascination with woodwork and although this is just a big piece of wood with no carving on it at all it is definitely fit for purpose as a chopping board.

Photography

The Beeb has been showing a wonderful series on BBC4 called "The Genius of Photography", described as the first real documentary describing the history of photography from the very beginnings and the way that the taking of photographs has affected the way we look at the world and the way it still affects us. The most recent one, shown last Thursday was about pictures taken of family life, not happy family pics but pictures of family life showing real lives. We saw pictures of people in the act of taking drugs, pictures one photographer took of his alcoholic father living in a high-rise block in a less then salubrius part of outer London. There was also one Japanese photographer who published series of books of pictures from his marriage day, throughout his marriage until his wife's illness, death and the subsequent funeral. Although it might not seem so we've found the series fascinating and many of the pictures really speak to you. Very, very thought provoking.

In this latest programme several of the photographers were takinhg pictures of everything in their lives and I've found it reminded me of something I had planned to do early this year - namely to take pictures of my life and what interests me. And why shouldn't I start to do so.

Victoria Wood - Let's Do It

I just love this.

I seem to be going through a period of lethargy at the moment. I have a list of things to do and no wish to get on with any of them. For example the garden needs work, I have all the materials to do a crochet-a-thon but haven’t started it yet, I’ve put my (unfinished) knitting to one side, there’s a pile of papers and books in the study to sort out, and so on……and I don’t feel like starting any of them. The weather doesn’t help – it’s so damp and chilly that it makes me not want to do anything. And when I do try my chest starts to complain – having asthma that is triggered by damp weather isn’t easy, especially in a wet winter in England. Even working on the computer isn’t easy at the moment.

But just before the cold wet weather (and the wheezing) started I found a wonderful site where it’s possible to spend a lot of time improving my vocabulary and at the same time helping to feed the world’s poor. The Free Rice site is well worth a visit.

A couple of days ago I went to Cardiff to visit my mother. We chat on the phone every other day but I thought that she might welcome a visit now as my brother is on a three week holiday in Chile hunting cacti. Before I went I had been a little worried that she may not recognise me as some of the painkillers she has been put on, since several of her vertibrae crumbled due to osteoporosis, have made her mind wander into another world. Fortunately though they are now trying her on painkiller patches which help with the pain without afecting her mind. So she was with it, recognised me and was able to chat without any problems. It was a good visit.

Going from Chelmsford in Essex to a suburb of Cardiff involves a mile walk to the railway station, a train to Liverpool St station in London, a tube to Paddington station from where I take a train to Cardiff Central followed by a taxi out to the nursing home. I was lucky this time and everything ran like clockwork going there, so it took just over 5 hours. The journey back was almost as good with just the train delayed going back to london from Cardiff Central.

I am, however, not sure how I shall be able to see her over the Christmas period as, apparently, Liverpool St station is going to be closed from before Christmas until 1st January 2008. Some sort of bridge repairs I think. I suppose it's not surprising as that train journey goes through the area where the Olympics will take place in 2012 and I suppose British Rail is making sure the railway infrastructure is sufficient. However, it makes travelling up to London (and for me onto Cardiff) very problematic over Christmas with long bus journeys to get to tube stations.

I suppose I shall have to drive there, not my favourite journey as the A12, the M25 and the M4 are all very busy roads and I dread to think how long it will take. Then there is the fact you have to pay a toll to cross the Severn Bridge to go into Wales, something I bitterly resent. I never feel at home in Wales and would willingly pay any amount to leave there but not to go there. Oh well, I'll sort something out somehow.

Last Friday I posted a piece and a pattern for my Third Red Hat scarf. Well, I finished that scarf the day before my first cataract operation and when that was over I found myself at home with nothing to knit and with every published knitting pattern in such tiny print it was, for me, impossible to read at the time. But I could still remember the pattern of the scarf I had just finished so I bought a ball of green double knitting yarn (again I've last the ball band) and used the same pattern as before. I find the difference,using one colour rather than two,absolutely fascinating.

Music

The Husband made an experiment yesterday. He added a piece of music to his iPod and then played that piece from the iPod and at the same time played the original CD in the DVD player – flicking from one channel to another on the hi-fi to which both the iPod and DVD player were connected. There was absolutely no difference in the sound quality at all that either of us could hear. And when he played the CD on his (very expensive) Naim CD player there was a only a very slight difference: the depth of sound on the Naim was hardly different from when it is played on the DVD player.

Incidentally, yesterday he also played a CD with what I believe to be one of the most beautiful pieces of music ever written, so beautiful it tears my heart to bits every time I hear it. This is the Eclogue for piano and string orchestra by Gerald Finzi. It’s a sure sign the family is returning to normal – last week we couldn’t have listened to it as it would have been too sad.

Is this good? As someone who left school at 16 and went straight into work I am very aware that I'm not a genius. But I hope I'm not stupid either.

Anyway, I don't want to frighten away anyone by the extent of my erudition. (Well, that's my story and I'm sticking to it - grin.)

Free Knitting Pattern: My Third Red Hat Scarf

I am staggered to realise that I finished my second Red hat scarf in May. Almost immediately afterwards I started on my third Red Hat scarf and finished it the day before my first eye operation. What with one thing after another I put it to one side and just stuffed it in a cupboard. I dug it out this morning and took this picture of it.

Because I finished it four months ago I can't find the ball bands and can't remember the actual yarn I used but I do know that both balls were Double Knitting and contained a high portion of wool. The scarf used one 100 gram ball each of Red and Purple. Oh, and I carried the unused colour up the side of the knitting so there weren't loads of ends to work in. Anyway, here is the actual pattern:

Abbreviation to note:
ssk = slip the next 2 stitches one at a time, insert left needle into the front of the slipped stitches and knit them together.

Yarn:
1 100grm ball of DK each in Red (M) and Purple (C)

Using M cast on 49 sts. Follow stitch pattern as follows:

Pattern:
Row 1: (WS) K1, P3, *K11, P4; rep from * to last 15 stitches, K11, P3, K1.
Row 2: K4, * P11, K4; rep from * to end.
Row 3: K1, P1, * P2tog, P11, P2tog tbl; rep from * to last 2 sts, P1, K1.
Row 4: K2, *ssk, K9, K2tog; rep from * to last 2 sts, K2.
Row 5: K1, P1, * P2tog, P7, P2tog tbl; rep from * to last 2 sts, P1, K1.
Row 6: K4, * [YO, K1] five times, YO, K4; rep from * to end.

Using M (Red) and C (Purple) as follows:
2 Rows M (R1 & 2)
2 Rows C (R 3 & 4)
10 Rows M ( 5, 6, 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6)
And continue……

I hope this is all understandable. If not give me a shout and I'll try to explain a bit more.

Spiced Parsnip Soup

I am never sure about the copyright issues of quoting a recipe here that I have found in a magazine or a book. However, sometimes I find something so good and easy - I don’t believe in making too much fuss when cooking - that I really want to remember the recipe for future occasions and also to let my friends know about how good it is.

Here is a case in point. In the November issue of the Country Kitchen magazine was a wonderful soup recipe. When I made it the Husband said “this is a keeper – you should make it again”. And so I am writing the recipe below and say to everyone – here is a reason to buy Country Kitchen magazine. A good advertisement for the magazine (especially as their website still shows their July issue.)

Oh, I made one small change to the published recipe. I like my soup thicker than the finished article so I added a tin of Butter beans and blended them in too. It all depends on your own particular tastes, of course.

Spiced Parsnip Soup

1 tsp sunflower oil
1 large onion, peeled and chopped
1 tsp ground cumin
1 tsp ground coriander
1 tsp mustard seeds
1 tsp ground ginger
0.5 tsp ground turmeric
700g parsnips, peeled and chopped
Salt and freshly ground pepper
1.2 litres (2 pints) chicken or vegetable stock

Heat the oil in a deep pan and fry the onion over a gentle heat until it starts to soften. Add the spices and cook for a few minutes before adding the parsnips. Stir well, season with salt and pepper and sweat over a medium heat for 5 minutes.

Pour in stock and the simmer for 15-20 minutes until the parsnip is soft. Blend until smooth. (It was at this stage that I decided to blend into the soup a tin of butter beans to thicken it a little.) Season with salt and pepper to taste. Garnish with a swirl of plain yoghurt, if you wish.

(Like many soup recipes this is best made a little before you plan to serve it and store it in the fridge for a while. I usually make it the day before we plan to eat it. This allows all the flavours in the soup to come out fully.) Delicious.

It is all over now. And it all went well.

On Thursday the Husband and I set off for Cambridge to pick up the Stepson and bring him home, ready for Friday. He had lectures in the afternoon and would not be free until after 6.00 pm and so we went up to Cambridge earlier in the day and had a look around. As it was a typical dull late October day we ended up in the Fitzwilliam Museum and spent a couple of hours looking at some of the pictures until the museum closed. Some of the pictures were wonderful: there was a Canaletto of the Interior Court of the Doge’s Palace that I would have cheerfully have gone to prison for attempting to steal (I didn’t, of course). After the museum closed we walked around the shops until the Stepson was free to meet us. And then, after a meal at a local Pizza Express we set off for home.

Friday was the day of the funeral and so the Husband, the Stepson, Stepdaughter and her boyfriend and I set off for Whitstable in Kent. We went to the Father-in-law’s flat, from where the funeral cortege left for the crematorium which was at Barham, a good 35-40 minutes drive. The grounds of the crematorium were lovely, situated on the top of a hill so you could look down into a valley of English countryside showing wonderful autumnal colours. We met up with lots of other members of the family and went in for the service. It was a nice service, the Mother-in-law had been a practicing Christian and so it was very much along those terms with two good “old fashioned” hymns all of us knew “All people who on earth do dwell” and “Praise my Soul the King of Heaven”. I remember both from my schooldays – it was good to have a chance to sing them again.

After the service we all made our way back to Whitstable. As the Father-in-law lives in a flat too small to hold all the mourners a function room had been booked in a local hotel which also provided a very good buffet meal. The whole family had a good chance to get together and to chat. After it was over the Father-in-law went home and we went with him and spent a few hours with him. In the evening we made our way home again.

The following day we drove the Stepson back to Cambridge, a rather lengthier drive than we were expecting because a crane was being moved through the town and so all the roads were gridlocked. And then the Husband and I returned home and have tried to relax after a trying period.

The past few days have not been easy on anyone and all of us have had memories and feelings with which to come to terms. Now we are returning to a normal life, except for the one person who is no longer there.

And so I am hoping that this blog will now resume to normality.

A busy couple of days ahead.

Tomorrow the Husband and I are off to Cambridge to pick up the Stepson. It's not an easy journey from Cambridge to Chemsford by public transport: the only way of doing it is to take the train from Cambridge to central London and then another train from London to Chelmsford. However by car it's relatively easy (except dealing with the M11 when it goes down to 2 lanes just when it becomes hilly and lots of lorries are crawling along. So we thought we'd take the opportunity to look around Cambridge until he finishes all his lectures/tutorials/etc. Then we'll have a meal together and then come home.

On Friday the three of us plus the Stepdaughter and her boyfriend will set off to Kent for the funeral. We are go down toWhitstable and then set off for the crematorium, which I think is the other side of Canterbury. Afterwards there will be a family get together when we'll have the opportunity to meet some of the Husband's family again. It will be nice to meet them again even if on such a sad occasion.

Sometimes when you have a problem it helps to sit down and think about it.

Well, things are slowly settling down now. Most of the tasks necessary after a death have been completed, mainly by the Husband: all the legal things like death certificates, informing everyone, sorting out the no-longer-needed clothes and effects. I certainly do not envy him the hard work he has put into all this. The funeral is this coming Friday, the 2nd. After the cremation there will be a small family get together in a function room in one of the local hotels. I am looking forward to meeting the Husband’s side of the family again, although I regret the reason for the get-together.

Still, I hope in future to be around here a little more than has been possible lately.

Sad News

The Husband's mother Joan died in the early hours of this morning. We were expecting it, her health, which has never been good, had deteriorated badly over the last few weeks and the doctors had said some days ago that she had not long to go. Her immediate family had the chance to see her over the weekend - the Husband, his sister, his brother-in-law, the Stepson and I went to the hospital in Canterbury on Saturday and saw her. Although her mind was going she recognised us and was able to say a few small things. The thing was that although she hadn't been told the end was near she clearly knew: she always said "see you soon" at the end of a visit, but this time she said "goodbye" to each of us. The Stepdaughter went yesterday (having brought a bad throat under control) and told us later that her grandmother said little but clearly knew she was there. She'd always had a close relationship to all her grandchildren and we are so glad that they all had the opportunity to see her over the weekend.

Now our thoughts must not only be on all the arrangements but also on her widowed husband. He is 85 years old and they had been married for 58 years. We are all worried about him and so the Husband is going down to stay with him for the next couple of days- he just doesn't want him to be alone. I am not sure of the extent I shall be around over the next few days but I am sure you understand. .

Life's a little serious at the moment as the Husband's mother is so poorly but here is a picture to cheer us all up.

I haven't been around here much because for the last few days the Husband and I both have some sort of bug and neither of us has any energy at all. It's a bit like a cold, a bit like the flu and a bit like nothing on earth. So we haven't been doing much lately.

Having said that we both did things last Saturday - mainly because we'd both had them booked and it would have been next to impossible to have cancelled or to rearrange them. And we each managed what we were doing . But the next day, the Sunday, we were both worn out but have now recovered.

The Husband had made arrangements to get the car serviced and to have its MOT examination. His brother-in-law always does it (he is a car mechanic) and Saturday was the only day he could do it before the old MOT expired and, of course, it's illegal to drive a car over a certain age without an MOT. So he drove down there very early in the morning (it had to be ready to be worked on at 7.30 am) and spent the day there visiting all his family. His mother is not very well so he visited her in hospital and spent some time also with his father.

I, however, was doing something completely different. A few weeks ago I'd decided to try something different and booked a place on a "Drawing for Beginners" one day course at the Adult Education Institute in Brentwood. It was a one-off course and it was then or never. I hadn't done any drawing since I left school 40 years ago and I had been told then that I was no good at any sort of art. But I thought I'd try it, just to see. I really enjoyed it and it was the most fun I'd had for some time. I'm probably not a born artist but that's not the point. It was enjoyable. I shall definitely try to find another class in the subject.

And now we are both trying to recover from this virus thing. The sooner it goes the better.

Outside the window in our sitting room can be seen a big hardy fuscia currently in full flower and in a flower bed to the right of the window. It would be a lovely picture and well worth looking at if it was not for what is connecting it to a buddleia in a flower bed on the left side of the window. A fine thread, a very fine thread, and to some a very attractive picture - if it wasn’t for the fact that its maker and occupant likes to lurk in the middle of the thread and in full view of the window. I really don’t like spiders and I’m sure that this one knows it. So it sits there and sneers at me.

That I could cope with, if they stayed outside. But this time of year spiders are trying to find themselves shelter indoors and for the last month the Husband has had the job of getting rid of them before I come across them. Frequently over the last few weeks I’ve heard his say “Don’t come in the …hall/dining room/bathroom” and then I’d hear thumps as the creature meets its maker. (We have an unspoken deal in our house. The Husband deals with spiders, whilst I deal with the mice that Nimrod has brought in and let go.)

Then there was yesterday. The Husband had gone up to London for the day as he and other members of his music group first went to see a film at the Barbican (“The Lives of Others” – he said it was very good) and then on to the newly reopened Royal Festival Hall for the 75th anniversary of the foundation of the London Philharmonic Orchestra by Sir Thomas Beecham. I find it nice to spend some time alone sometimes and I enjoyed spending some “me” time yesterday afternoon. However, come the evening I made a quick trip to the bathroom and there It was. A huge great thing with long legs not just lurking in the washbasin but actively running around it and making it clear that it was alive and ready to kill anything in its path. All right, I know all the received wisdom about arachnids and how useful they are keeping flies under control. I also know that I’m bigger than they are. Nevertheless that thing knew who was boss and that It was in charge of the bathroom. It was only when the Husband returned that the balance of power in our household returned to normal and the 8-legged creature was evicted.

There are times when it’s very useful to have a man around.

Yesterday was Monday, 1st October and a good opportunity to stop and to think a bit about life.

We have lived through the first nine months of 2007 and have three months to go before 2008 is upon us.

Tesco has been selling chocolates for Christmas for the last month and Marks & Sparks is now stocking mince pies.

I went into a card shop yesterday and saw Christmas cards on sale.

Yesterday a stall opened in one of the local shopping centers (mall) to sell calendars and diaries for 2008.

Does anyone else think that Society generally is always looking to the future and never enjoying the moment?

Still yesterday I heard some wonderful news of a new life. My friend Buffy has a new granddaughter – a little girl, born on Saturday and weighing 6 lbs 11 oz. Welcome to the world little one.

Friday we had the first Red Hat dinner of this autumn. Ther hadn't been any dinners over the summer period as there wasn't enough members available on any one date to make an event practical. But Friday there was a dozen of us. I had difficulties taking a decent picture as I was on the outer side of a dog-legged table and I couldn't move eaily from where I was sitting. So I just aimed the camera to the other end of the table. Generally there was a lot of chatter and much laughter at the dinner. It may not be a good picture but it gives some impression of how much fun was being had.

Why is it that as soon as I can use the computer properly an IT item in our household decides to play up, requiring me to spend hours searching the internet for the way to put it right?

I decided to spend a small (ha!) amount of time this afternoon dealing with my iPod. I have an account with Audible.co.uk which by the payment of £14.99 each month enables me to download two audiobooks each month. As we both like unabridged books, which are of course, more expensive than the abridged ones, we save a fair bit. Anyway I bought and downloaded the two books for this month ("Monarchy" by David Starkey and "I, Claudius" by Robert Graves) and added them to my iPod with no problems at all. Then the Husband asked what versions of "Rebecca" by Daphne Du Maurier were available. He had heard some years ago a cassette audiobook of the unabridged book read by Anna Massey and he felt this was the definitive reading of the book. Well, it wasn't available on Audible.co.uk (although they had other versions of the book) but it was on iTunes. So I downloaded it and tried to add it to his iPod.

That was when the problems started. His iPod froze and wouldn't do anything. Neither would it appear on the iTunes on my computer. I have just spent all afternoon trying to sort it out. I've tried searching My Computer, restarted the p.c. several times, redownloaded the iTunes software - all without success. I've also spent a dishearening amount of time trying to find the answer on Apple's support pages - which are totally impenetrable if you aren't a techie.

The iPod is only 11 months old and I have a horrible feeling we are going to have to send it off for repair. The Husband is the ultimate Luddite and I even have to turn on the computer for him if he wants to look up something. Giving him the iPod last Christmas was a not very subtle attempt on my part to get him to feel more comfortable around technology. He will not be impressed though if his iPod has to go off for repair.

Oh well, as a last attempt to sort the thing out I've put it on charge overnight. If that doesn't help I've no idea what to do. It shows how helpless we can be when something technological goes wrong. Perhaps Ned Ludd was right.

UPDATE:
The next day, after it became clear that putting it on charge didn't help, I rang a technical help number I found on Apple's Support website. After double-checking that the iPod was still in warranty they did help me and finally we got it sorted so it's now working properly. What happens if it goes wrong again after it is out of warranty I do not know. Oh well, it's ok for now.

I'm back

I'm back and I can see. The cataract operation on my left eye was in August and all went well, Then I went through what was for me a really weird period when I had what could best be called "limited vision". The sight in my left eye is the same as that in my right eye now - I can see long distance very well but everything else is out of focus. While waiting for my left eye top settle down after the operation I bought a pair of "over the counter" reading glasses which helped with reading the newspaper, etc. However, I discovered that everything between the close and distance work was just a blur which made my life rather interesting for a while. Shopping was a nightmare, unless the Husband was with me as I could not read labels of anything and you just don't know how much you read labels of goods in shops unless you dig out the reading glasses every time you want to read something and then put them away until you get to the next label to read - a generally time-consuming and fiddly thing to do every time you go shopping.

I did try to use the computer after the second operation, using the magnifier which is part of the accessibility package provided by Windows but it gave just a "letterbox" slot of magnified text. This was both disconcerting and wasn't much help when trying to navigate the Internet. As it was, virtually the first time I tried it I managed to click on the wrong link and ended up with a Trojan on my computer that I've now finally managed to dispose of.

I got my new glasses yesterday that have finally given me back my freedom. Varifocals, of course, so I now have full vision both with close work, what I call "middle distance" and they even sharpen up my long distance vision slightly. But for the first time since I was about 5 years old I can go out without glasses at all, a pleasure I cannot describe.

I am not going to be around at this blog for a few weeks. Not that I am giving up blogging or anything but I am having my second cataract operation on my left eye tomorrow and I don't expect to be able to read anything on the computer for a while. I know this because I am writing this with the benefit of only my left eye at the moment. When I had the cataract operation on my right eye I discovered that I could not read what was on the computer screen with that eye unless it was in huge print. Obviously I need new glasses but it isn't worth all that effort and expense getting new ones until both my eyes have been done and so I've spent the last two months working at the computer wearing my old glasses and with their right lense covered up. Generally life hasn't been very easy since the first operation as I've now one eye with excellent long distance vision and the other eye incredibly weak and fuzzy. So my sight (and life) has been quite weird and tiresome for the last two months.

I have to wait a minimum of four weeks after the op before I can go to the opticians to have my eyes tested for new glasses. But the wonderful thing is that I will be able to wear them for reading and other close work only and not to wear all day long. I've had to wear glasses all the time since I was 5 years old and over the last few years or so I've had varifocals with very strong lenses so it's all going to be worth it.

I'll be back as soon as I can.

Red Hat Videos on YouTube

I had a really pleasant surprise yesterday. I was contacted via YouTube from one of my fellow Red Hatters. She said

"Hi Adele

I'm a great fan of your blog and found the YouTube link to the Women in Art brilliant.

I put Red Hat Society in search and there are loads there! thought you may want to link these on your blog.

Have fun ......

Love Linda (Witham)

It is nice to be contacted at times and to meet up with friends.

And the links themselves are great fun. As I mentioned before I've never been able to embed YouTube videos in this blog so I've just put the links here:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=q7dCYfUZShQ
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=obanyFbYFuQ
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=h1KszhXcS1s

Why?

Why is it that Pickle has changed where she likes to sleep? She’s a cat who hates to be loomed over, much preferring to associate with humans by sitting next to them on the sofa (and nagging when she thinks it time for dinner). But now for some reason she’s decided to sleep just where we have to step over her to get to and from the sitting room. And gets grumpy when we do so.

Why is it that although you’ve carefully warned the company that sends you two Midsummer Murder DVDs each month that your credit card has been hijacked and given them the new credit card number, that a week later they send you a letter saying that your (old) credit card doesn’t work?

Why is it that GoogleMail decides to put an e-mail from a couple of friends into the most unlikely of folders on my Gmail system and I don’t notice the fact for two days?

Why is it that men (or, more precisely, the Husband) thinks it sensible to go for a 18 mile long walk when he has a huge blister on the base of one foot and afterwards complains of the pain? (Not to mention his bloody socks.)

And why is it that every time I go into town I see lots and lots of Scouts? This at least is easy to work out as the 21st World Scout Jamboree is taking place here in Chelmsford, or to be more precise at Hylands Park. Hylands, which is situated only about a mile or two outside the center of the town is a house together with a huge park that is used for all sorts of events. For example the V festival takes place there every year and so the grounds are an ideal location for the 40,000 scouts currently over here and from all over the world. But clearly they are not confined to Hylands as we often see some in town, often shopping for food, etc.

I've just stumbled upon.. Stumbleupon. I installed the toolbar on my p.c. just 10 minutes ago and have only just started to look at some of the sites that come up but the third one was from here and it's absolutely fascinating. I especially like the second one with someone wearing a Tony Blair mask overseeing John Major falling into a well. Great fun and Stumbledupon looks an interesting way of finding some of the more fascinating sites on the web. Including lots of cats.

I've also found a fascinating site, part of wikiHow called "How to Fit in when visiting London" and I have to say it made me grin. There's a lot of good advice there but also comments that definitely made me lift an eyebrow - for example "Do not attempt to keep up with your average Londoner when it comes to alcohol consumption." I'm certainly not sure I agree with their comments about drinking being a huge part of our social culture.

Thank goodness I’ve got a good bank. Yesterday afternoon I received a phone call from them. They asked me whether I had just that day spent a sum of money on my credit card. As the sum was in excess of £1,400 I was able to state categorically that I had not. It turns out that my bank had just received such a claim using my credit card number but the associated information (I assume they meant the usual things like card expiry date, its security code and my home address) was wrong. So the bank had smelled a rat and had phoned me up to check.

I was more than a bit taken aback that such a thing could happen, as I try to take such care with the way I use my credit and debit cards. On the net I am always careful to use the credit card only on a few websites, and those are ones with secure payment facilities. At home whenever I no longer need credit card receipts then I shred them and add them to the compost heap.

Interestingly enough the attempted payment was on a website that I do look at occasionally. It sells electrical goods and it’s a good place to use when seeking comparison prices on certain electrical goods. I’ve never actually bought anything from there though, as I’ve always managed to find the same goods at better prices on other websites.

How someone got my credit card number I don’t know. But it’s a good thing my bank checks such things. And they were willing to go that extra mile and ring me at home to check the validity of a payment. When I said that it wasn’t my payment they immediately cancelled my credit card and have put a new one in the post. I should receive it in a couple of days. Hopefully the number of that one won’t leak out. But if it does it is comforting to know that my bank is on my side.

I haven't mentioned my knitting lately but I have still been doing some. I finished a Third Red Hat scarf in red and purple DK wool the day before the cataract operation and afterwards I bought a ball of dark green DK wool and made another scarf using the same pattern. But I'm going through a phase of wanting to knit with finer wool than DK and at the moment I have absolutely no wish to block or to photograph either of them. That shall probably happen some time in the future, I expect.

And so I've gone back to 4 ply yarn. I wanted something that was easy to make, even when I can't see the detail properly, and so I chose a Feather & Fan pattern which works. All you need is the ability to count up to 6. I haven't finished this one but it's a pattern that I can knit over and over again.

Here is the pattern.

Loosely CO 56 sts using 3.5mm knitting needles and 4 ply yarn.

Row 1: (RS) Knit.
Row 2: Purl.
Row 3: K1, *[K2tog] 3 times, [yo, k1] 6 times, [k2tog] 3 times; repeat from * to last stitch, k1.
Row 4: Knit.

Follow pattern until scarf is the desired length.

Let's face it, you can't get an easier pattern than this!

Rubbish and recycling

We have a small house and every room is lived in. However, in addition we have to house somewhere the various bags and receptacles provided by our borough council for their recycling schemes. So our hall, a small room, houses the following:

• a green box: for tins; glass bottles and jars (without their lids); clothing and fabrics not good enough to be given to a charity shop; and tin foil. Everything must be washed and clean before it is put in the box.
• a sack: for newspaper and general paper. But not for gift wrapping paper, envelopes with windows, brown paper or old telephone directories.
• another sack: for plastic bottles. Again these must be washed out and the lids removed. No other types of plastic can be put in this sack.
• yet another sack: for cardboard. All cardboard packaging must be flattened before it is put in the sack.

Outside in the front garden is a brown wheely-bin for garden waste of all types. Except for tree branches deemed not to be “very small”.

The council collect all of these containers on a regular basis. And if anything isn’t as they have deemed (i.e. if someone has left the lids on the plastic bottles, say), then it is just not collected. We also have a black bin, the dustbin, which, the council says, is only to be used for those items which do not fit into any of the recyclable categories I have listed above. (The bin-men check too. I have watched them look into our dustbin to make sure it contains nothing that shouldn’t be in one of the recyclable sacks or bins.)

I would like to think that I care about recycling. I certainly would want to make sure that whatever coming from our household that could be recycled was being so. In fact I now have a compost bin, started and kept going by myself, that takes lots of green matter from the garden as well as fruit and vegetable peelings and waste. I enjoy keeping an eye on it (and I’ve even turned it, as well.)

Despite this more and more I find myself resenting the fact that, with the exception of the compost bin, all the other recycling has been imposed on me and I have absolutely no choice in the matter. I look at the newspaper and it is full of articles telling me I must recycle. The television keeps on talking about how essential recycling is. And I understand the global implications, I really do. But as I get older I find myself getting…. well, I suppose I would say I am becoming a bit rebellious at constantly being told how to live my own life. I want to make up my own mind how I live and what I do, I want the decisions that I make to be mine only. And recycling is just one area of my life where my ability to make decisions on what to do and how, has been taken away from me by an outside authority. I have no choice in the matter. And I resent that.

Beautiful and from YouTube

I'm not a great fan of YouTube. There is a huge amount of dross on it and you can spend a vast amount of time searching through the rubbish to find the stuff worth watching. The fact that I've never managed to imbed any YouTube piece into this blog despite expending a great deal of blood, sweat and tears hasn't helped my attitude to YouTube either.

However every so often I come across something I really enjoy. Here is one, it's really lovely, and I just have to watch it again and again. Enjoy:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nUDIoN-_Hxs

The Graduation Ceremony

Last Thursday was quite a day. It was the day the Stepson became a graduate. Yes, he is now entitled to have the initials "B.A. Hons (Cantab)" after his name.

The day itself was very good. It was warm, sunny and, I think, the only dry day we've seen in the last month. The Husband and I arrived at the Pembroke College at about noon, in time for a few photographs.

Then we proceeded to the Stepson’s room where we met up with his mother and then the four of us went to one of the parlours in the library block for drinks. Then at 1.00 we all moved on to the College bowling green where, despite the fact that this is the oldest bowling green in the country, a marquee had been erected on the green. Lunch was excellent, a plate of various salads plus small portions of salmon, chicken, a quiche and vegetarian terrine, followed by fruit salad. Oh and a choice of wine or fruit juice. After this all the graduands (what they are called until they formally become graduates) headed off to have a photograph taken together. (I have a few from here but I wasn’t able to get into a good position.)

Afterwards we all headed off to the Senate House for Cambridge University. The Husband, his ex-wife and myself queued for some time while the graduands were given instructions on how to behave in the actual ceremony. The graduation ceremonies are in the same order as the date each college was originally created. As Pembroke was the sixth college to be formed as part of Cambridge university its graduation ceremony was the sixth that day (there were three ceremonies after Pembroke’s on the Thursday, a full day of graduation ceremonies on the Friday and on Saturday too, which gives one some idea of how many colleges form the university.)

The actual graduation ceremony was full of arcane moments and both interesting but baffling at the same time as the whole ceremony was in Latin, which I have never studied. There was a fair amount of university fellows doffing and then donning their mortar boards, a huge silver mace being carried and the statutes and regulations of Pembroke College being formally placed into position as the ceremony actually started. It was reasonably easy to work out what was generally going on though - the main part came when each graduate in turn knelt in front of the Arch-Chancellor of the University’s representative and was welcomed (again in Latin) as a member of the University. Then he/she stood, bowed to him and then left the hall, being given their degree certificate by the exit.

We stood outside the Senate building for a while as people queued to have formal photographs taken and to buy pictures of the actual ceremony (we weren't allowed to take photos or to film/video the ceremony). Then we all walked back to the college for tea and strawberries.

This ended the actual college programme for the day. I have to say the organisation of the day was incredible, but then one of the papers I saw said that Cambridge had been in existence for 798 years, so I think they've had enough practice to get it right (grin).

We stayed on and took the Stepson out for dinner in a local restaurant. Then we went back to the college and loaded up both cars with all the stuff the Stepson had amassed after a year in college. It was incredible how much stuff he carried out to be loaded into the cars, it just kept on coming (it reminded me of some of those daft comedy routines when the amount of stuff just seemed too much to fit into the room).

It was an excellent day. As the Stepson is staying on at Cambridge to do a 1 year Master of Philosophy course and then he wants to do a 3 year doctorate, both in his subject of History, presumably there will be two more graduation ceremonies to come.