I lay in bed this morning, trying to get back to sleep. It's not yet 7, too early to get up. I had the radio on. The programme was on the subject of cheap food during these times of recession.
First it debated the value of so-called "value" ranges. They were dismissive of processed foods as so often "value" meant high salt, fat & MSG, reduced meat or fish content. However, when it came to basic foods such as raw, frozen & tinned veg, the conclusion was favourable. On the whole the difference lay in that they may not look as good, in that the sizes are more varied. Personally I've nothing against irregular shapes & sizes. I just object to tasteless fruit & veg.
They progressed to the question of meat. Here, they reckoned the secret of getting good quality for less money lay in buying the cheaper cuts. Again I've nothing against cheap cuts. The problem with this apparently is that younger people don't know how to cook properly & so don't know how to slow roast, braise, casserole. The butcher went on to comment that his wife buys about 10lb of stewing meat for the two of them,& makes a vast stew. They then have some immediately, hot. The rest she divides into small batches & freezes, then when she needs a quick meal she just gets out a bag & heats it through, maybe adding some fresh dumplings. Half an hour at most.
But what really caused my ears to prick up was when the programme continue to say that, since most people only have about 6 meals which they always eat, surely it would be possible to teach anyone how to cook 6 different, inexpensive, quick meals. Just 6 meals! We eat a far more varied diet.
I suppose I have to admit I grew up on such a regime. Grilled steak on Sat, roast chicken, lamb or pork on Sun, leftover roast with chips for Mon, grilled lamb chop on Tues, grilled pork chop on Thurs, fish fingers on Fri. Wed varied a bit but the same thing would be done for months at a time until it varied but usually it would be liver or sausages. Christmas brought the welcome variety of turkey. So life went on. You knew the day of the week from the meal you got.
When I left home & took control of my own diet, I was determined this would never happen in my home, & it never has. Occasionally financial constraints has meant the same very cheap meal would appear a few times in a week, but you never knew when. It just seems such a waste when there's all that choice of food options with various meats & cuts, fish, fruit & veg. I accept, too, there are some old favourites that do reappear but they are so numerous they don't appear every week. If nothing else I want the pleasure of cooking different things rather the boredom of the same old inevitable meal.
By the time I'd recovered from the shock of the thought of just eating 6 meals over & over again, I was well & truly awake, so I got up. Since then I've turned to preparing today's meal - roast pork with caramelised apples. I've not done a roast for weeks so I'm really looking forward to all that lovely crackling, some honeyed apples, roast spuds & sprouts. Great, especially since the meat is from Thursday's Farmers' Market, from a stall where I'm sure the meat will taste really porky. Delicious!
Saturday 28 February 2009
Friday 27 February 2009
Oh, to lose weight
PD was at the Pub yesterday, second time this year. He's still been having medical tests, still trying to lose weight.
"I've been told to lose 2 stone in 6 weeks. It's ridiculous. How am I meant to do that? I've been doing a couple of mile walk every day, pushing the grandson along in his pram. I've not been drinking my beer. I've not had any fried food for months. And I've not lost a thing."
He's off next to see if the GP can suggest anything. He's tried doing what the dietitian says & that's not help. At least he's now admitting he's 24 stone & something has to be done to reduce it. He's even beginning to wonder if surgery or liposuction isn't the answer if only the NHS will pay for it! We can but hope some means is found.
"I've been told to lose 2 stone in 6 weeks. It's ridiculous. How am I meant to do that? I've been doing a couple of mile walk every day, pushing the grandson along in his pram. I've not been drinking my beer. I've not had any fried food for months. And I've not lost a thing."
He's off next to see if the GP can suggest anything. He's tried doing what the dietitian says & that's not help. At least he's now admitting he's 24 stone & something has to be done to reduce it. He's even beginning to wonder if surgery or liposuction isn't the answer if only the NHS will pay for it! We can but hope some means is found.
Thursday 26 February 2009
Disability & a child's death
After ordering our new kitchen, we adjourned to the Pub to celebrate. After finishing the crossword, I idly glanced through the rest of the pages of the Times supplement. I noticed there was an article on disability. I thought I'd glance through it just in case there's something new I ought to know.
I was shocked to discover that parents are complaining to the BBC because one of the presenters on CBeebies is disabled, missing part of one arm. Apparently they feel this will terrify their little darlings. Such disgusting sights should be avoided. I couldn't help thinking the children probably would accept the sight as curious, but essentially normal. It is the parents who have the bad reaction. And ultimately the children need to understand that people come in all variety of shapes & colours but that does not reduce their value as people. Difference can be beautiful.
I know how often young children have stared curiously at me when I'm in my wheelchair. (In Australia I even had some kangaroos coming up to investigate this curious creature who moved so swiftly but had no legs!) Parents often try to shield their offspring from me & apologise for their staring. But I really cannot blame the children. After all, they see a woman, at their eye level, with a friendly smile on her face most of the time, speeding around on a strange machine.
The sooner adults accept that disability is for many people a norm, & no more ugly than a wart on your nose, black skin, red hair etc, the sooner we might live in a society where there is less prejudice against disabled people. And where better to start on this education process than by letting young children realise that there may be reasons why people are lacking arms for example, but that does not inherently make them less beautiful, valuable or lovable than people with two arms. They're just a bit different, &, in some ways, special. Well done BBC.
Disability came home in a different way yesterday with the death of Ivan Cameron. My heart goes out to his parents. I rejoiced to hear party politics were put on one side at least for one day. I felt Gordon Brown for once spoke from his heart in saying how devastating the loss of a beloved child is to a parent.
I remember how devastated my father was after my brother's sudden demise at the age of 49. My brother had a serious congenital heart problem so the family had known at any time he could die. His childhood was an anxious time for my parents. As he grew into a man, I think we all began to relax a bit & think that he would live a long life. Oh, he had his months in hospital from time to time & anxiety once more surfaced, but most of the time his health was reasonably good. It made his death all the more shocking when it happened. I'd even spoken to him on the phone the evening before & he was feeling fine. He just never woke up the next day. My father from then on was a broken man, not helped by the fact I was then facing an op for cancer so he feared losing us both. I don't think he ever recovered. He himself died 18 months later, a shrunken still grieving man.
I was shocked to discover that parents are complaining to the BBC because one of the presenters on CBeebies is disabled, missing part of one arm. Apparently they feel this will terrify their little darlings. Such disgusting sights should be avoided. I couldn't help thinking the children probably would accept the sight as curious, but essentially normal. It is the parents who have the bad reaction. And ultimately the children need to understand that people come in all variety of shapes & colours but that does not reduce their value as people. Difference can be beautiful.
I know how often young children have stared curiously at me when I'm in my wheelchair. (In Australia I even had some kangaroos coming up to investigate this curious creature who moved so swiftly but had no legs!) Parents often try to shield their offspring from me & apologise for their staring. But I really cannot blame the children. After all, they see a woman, at their eye level, with a friendly smile on her face most of the time, speeding around on a strange machine.
The sooner adults accept that disability is for many people a norm, & no more ugly than a wart on your nose, black skin, red hair etc, the sooner we might live in a society where there is less prejudice against disabled people. And where better to start on this education process than by letting young children realise that there may be reasons why people are lacking arms for example, but that does not inherently make them less beautiful, valuable or lovable than people with two arms. They're just a bit different, &, in some ways, special. Well done BBC.
Disability came home in a different way yesterday with the death of Ivan Cameron. My heart goes out to his parents. I rejoiced to hear party politics were put on one side at least for one day. I felt Gordon Brown for once spoke from his heart in saying how devastating the loss of a beloved child is to a parent.
I remember how devastated my father was after my brother's sudden demise at the age of 49. My brother had a serious congenital heart problem so the family had known at any time he could die. His childhood was an anxious time for my parents. As he grew into a man, I think we all began to relax a bit & think that he would live a long life. Oh, he had his months in hospital from time to time & anxiety once more surfaced, but most of the time his health was reasonably good. It made his death all the more shocking when it happened. I'd even spoken to him on the phone the evening before & he was feeling fine. He just never woke up the next day. My father from then on was a broken man, not helped by the fact I was then facing an op for cancer so he feared losing us both. I don't think he ever recovered. He himself died 18 months later, a shrunken still grieving man.
Wednesday 25 February 2009
To Lancaster
Weather's back to normal - a fine drizzle. We're off to Lancaster today. We're hoping to finally order the kitchen. We've worked out exactly what we want. Now we just have to agree a price. Unfortunately the studio is a bit away from the car park so I suppose I'll get soaked if it continues as it is now. But luckily we've found a very nice pub just round the corner from the designer so we'll be able to go there for a more private discussion if we feel we need it, & then can easily go back to the designer with our final decision. Oh, I do hope the ordering's done, then we can turn our minds to other more exciting things. There'll be the odd disruption for final measurements etc, but that will be it until the actual work is done.
At the moment the smell of curry is permeating our house. I thought a turkey curry would use up some left over turkey as well as making a quick & easy meal for this evening. I'm back to a bit of using up of freezer contents at the moment. Tomorrow is Farmers' Market day so hopefully we'll come back with all sorts of goodies for the weeks ahead.
At the moment the smell of curry is permeating our house. I thought a turkey curry would use up some left over turkey as well as making a quick & easy meal for this evening. I'm back to a bit of using up of freezer contents at the moment. Tomorrow is Farmers' Market day so hopefully we'll come back with all sorts of goodies for the weeks ahead.
Tuesday 24 February 2009
Sense of community
Yesterday turned into an unusual day. I suppose it started when I noticed Michelle, Geoff's widow, washing her car. I thought I might as well pop out & have a few words with her. I'm glad I did. It turns out she's missing Geoff all the more now the fuss of the funeral is over. Her son is once more with his regiment in Holland. She's half dreading he'll get posted to somewhere like Afghanistan & something will happen to him as well. The nights are particularly getting to her, which I found surprising since Geoff was a HGV driver & so worked away from home a week at a time. I suggested if things were really getting her down to pop round. There's usually someone up & she's welcome. She said she might just do that & she'll bring a bottle of wine. I left her laughing, something I doubt she's done much of recently.
Not long after I was back inside, the vicar turned up. He stopped for an hour or so, just chatting. He's due to retire in the summer. He was telling us of his plans. They've finally found a house they like, now they're just waiting to see if the church will approve their choice. He's a good vicar, very caring. After 40 years of service, he deserves to have some time just for Janet, his wife, & himself.
Meanwhile, the great excitement is the return of BJ, another neighbour. He works abroad so he's not been home for months. This time he's bringing back his new bride, a Chinese woman. He's told us something about her, but we're all left boggling a bit. She apparently speaks no English & BJ speaks no Chinese. Presumably they communicate with sign language of some sort. We're all eager to meet her, but so far we've seen no sign of her. They hadn't made it back by the time the vicar left. We then hastily went to do the food shopping we needed to do. By the time we got back, BJ & his wife were back & inside the house, so we've still not seen her.
All the neighbours here were very supportive of BJ when his first wife, Karen, died in horrific circumstances a few years ago. Now we're all hoping that BJ has really found new love & is not just on the rebound. We're all wondering whether we need to gear ourselves up to be supportive again as the marriage breaks up.
I have to admit one of the wonderful things about living here is just how supportive the neighbours are. We all go about our own lives respecting each other's privacy, yet at the same time, we all keep a benign watch over each other. Occasionally one of us will throw a party for all the neighbours - very occasionally, about once every 5 years. In times of trouble, we all come together to help one another. Who said the sense of community was dead in this country? It certainly is alive here.
Not long after I was back inside, the vicar turned up. He stopped for an hour or so, just chatting. He's due to retire in the summer. He was telling us of his plans. They've finally found a house they like, now they're just waiting to see if the church will approve their choice. He's a good vicar, very caring. After 40 years of service, he deserves to have some time just for Janet, his wife, & himself.
Meanwhile, the great excitement is the return of BJ, another neighbour. He works abroad so he's not been home for months. This time he's bringing back his new bride, a Chinese woman. He's told us something about her, but we're all left boggling a bit. She apparently speaks no English & BJ speaks no Chinese. Presumably they communicate with sign language of some sort. We're all eager to meet her, but so far we've seen no sign of her. They hadn't made it back by the time the vicar left. We then hastily went to do the food shopping we needed to do. By the time we got back, BJ & his wife were back & inside the house, so we've still not seen her.
All the neighbours here were very supportive of BJ when his first wife, Karen, died in horrific circumstances a few years ago. Now we're all hoping that BJ has really found new love & is not just on the rebound. We're all wondering whether we need to gear ourselves up to be supportive again as the marriage breaks up.
I have to admit one of the wonderful things about living here is just how supportive the neighbours are. We all go about our own lives respecting each other's privacy, yet at the same time, we all keep a benign watch over each other. Occasionally one of us will throw a party for all the neighbours - very occasionally, about once every 5 years. In times of trouble, we all come together to help one another. Who said the sense of community was dead in this country? It certainly is alive here.
Monday 23 February 2009
Feeling even older
I've been busy over the weekend. Household chores such as the ironing. I even got to church yesterday - first time this year - where I was warmly welcomed.
What has dominated my thoughts, though, has been my Friday visit to the doc. It seems I'm hypothyroidal.
"You're just getting old," he says. "Your body is wearing out. Your thyroid gland is packing up."
"But I'm only 54. That's not old," I think. "Heaven help me if I ever get to my Aunt Ivy's age of 87." I suppose I have to admit my body does seem to be wearing out early - arthritis from my 20s, menopause beginning in my late 30s, osteoporosis diagnosed by my 40s, moles etc appearing in my 50s - all signs of that malady known as old age.
"Do you feel tired?" he continues.
"I think I've felt tired for the last 20 years, ever since I became disabled. Everything seems to take so much more effort, on top of which half the time I'm not sleeping due to being awakened by pain. I've been saying as much in all by benefit forms (which he has seen)." I don't add the side effects of medication, some of which is designed to dampen me down a bit.
"How about the cold? Do you feel the cold?"
"I've always felt the cold, from the time I first arrived in England. My mother put it down to being born in such a hot country," I reply.
He then adds, "Are you going to grow old gracefully?"
To which my response is "It depends what you mean by gracefully. If you mean, am I going to be cantankerously rude, no. If you mean, am I just going to curl up my toes & give up on life, no."
"Good," he says "That's what I like to hear."
With that, he gives me a prescription for a couple of packets of "crisis" pills, & tells me to return in another 6 weeks for another blood test to see if the strength of the pills need tweaking.
When I get home, I dutifully read the piece of paper in the box with the pills. Possible side effects include "skin rash, palpitations .... death". The latter sounds an extreme solution to my problem! We shall see. So far I'm still alive & kicking, even if feeling tireder than ever, though that's probably more to do with my weekend of activity than anything else.
What has dominated my thoughts, though, has been my Friday visit to the doc. It seems I'm hypothyroidal.
"You're just getting old," he says. "Your body is wearing out. Your thyroid gland is packing up."
"But I'm only 54. That's not old," I think. "Heaven help me if I ever get to my Aunt Ivy's age of 87." I suppose I have to admit my body does seem to be wearing out early - arthritis from my 20s, menopause beginning in my late 30s, osteoporosis diagnosed by my 40s, moles etc appearing in my 50s - all signs of that malady known as old age.
"Do you feel tired?" he continues.
"I think I've felt tired for the last 20 years, ever since I became disabled. Everything seems to take so much more effort, on top of which half the time I'm not sleeping due to being awakened by pain. I've been saying as much in all by benefit forms (which he has seen)." I don't add the side effects of medication, some of which is designed to dampen me down a bit.
"How about the cold? Do you feel the cold?"
"I've always felt the cold, from the time I first arrived in England. My mother put it down to being born in such a hot country," I reply.
He then adds, "Are you going to grow old gracefully?"
To which my response is "It depends what you mean by gracefully. If you mean, am I going to be cantankerously rude, no. If you mean, am I just going to curl up my toes & give up on life, no."
"Good," he says "That's what I like to hear."
With that, he gives me a prescription for a couple of packets of "crisis" pills, & tells me to return in another 6 weeks for another blood test to see if the strength of the pills need tweaking.
When I get home, I dutifully read the piece of paper in the box with the pills. Possible side effects include "skin rash, palpitations .... death". The latter sounds an extreme solution to my problem! We shall see. So far I'm still alive & kicking, even if feeling tireder than ever, though that's probably more to do with my weekend of activity than anything else.
Friday 20 February 2009
A drowned rat
The Mean Machine had its first outing this year. For new readers, the Mean Machine is my electric scooter. The car had gone for its MOT & wasn't due back until mid-afternoon at the earliest. As it was dry & mild, I decided to venture off out to get some fish for dinner. I had intended to buy some halibut, but ended up buying some sea bass. On the way back I crossed over the road to come back along the Prom. I love to look at the water as I go along, see what birds are feeding. I headed on towards the sea wall through the large gravel patch in a small gardened area. Suddenly great spouts of water rushed skywards, showering me with water. I'd forgotten there was a water feature here, or at least assumed it was switched off for the winter. Everyone around burst into laughter as I came out, a drowned rat. Next time I venture this way I'll certainly be avoiding cutting through big open spaces. I continued on homeward. Soon it started to rain. Only gently, but enough to maintain my wetness.
Thursday 19 February 2009
New life
In the midst of death, there is new life. After Geoff's funeral hanging over us for a while, it is particularly joyous to see the new life appearing in the garden. For a while a lone golden crocus has appeared in our herb garden. Now, with the arrival of a few mild days, a few other golden heads have appeared. Just to one side, half-hidden under the lavender, is a deep purple flower. I am particularly pleased to see the crocuses as I planted the bulbs only last autumn, so this is their first showing.
I have to admit too I'm hoping they're a sign of the worst of winter being over. But I wouldn't guarantee that. The drifts of snowdrops on the way to Lancaster, our usual harbinger of spring, got lost in the snow & frost this year. Even the lambs, the few earlies that have been born, are being kept inside still, waiting for the warmer weather. Admittedly most lambs around here are not born until nearer March - being so far north they tend to be born a bit later than those further south. I always reckon, when the lambing is just about over in "The Archers" (BBC Radio4), then the fields around us start to fill with young lambs gambolling around their mums.
I have to admit too I'm hoping they're a sign of the worst of winter being over. But I wouldn't guarantee that. The drifts of snowdrops on the way to Lancaster, our usual harbinger of spring, got lost in the snow & frost this year. Even the lambs, the few earlies that have been born, are being kept inside still, waiting for the warmer weather. Admittedly most lambs around here are not born until nearer March - being so far north they tend to be born a bit later than those further south. I always reckon, when the lambing is just about over in "The Archers" (BBC Radio4), then the fields around us start to fill with young lambs gambolling around their mums.
Wednesday 18 February 2009
Feelings of mortality
And so we prepare for yet another funeral. I'm coming to the conclusion the more years you live, the more funerals you attend. In my 20s I only remember a few - my mother's, a very dear friend & my great aunt. These days it's rare we go without a funeral every year, & some years there's more than one. I suppose it's inevitable. Our friends tend to be of our own age or older, & inevitably you get nearer death as you grow older. But what gets to me is the number of people's funerals we've attended of people of our own age group or younger. Since we moved here in Sept 2000, there's been my brother's (49), a friend (53), a neighbour (45), & now another neighbour (56). These deaths make you feel uncomfortably aware of your own mortality. It also convinces me to make the most of my life now. There's no point in putting things off until tomorrow as tomorrow may never come. All the more important if those things bring you pleasure or peace of mind.
Tuesday 17 February 2009
Dreaming
After writing my blog yesterday, I realised I hadn't mentioned to Neil, the car mechanic, that we also needed a car service. I ring him back, apologising for disturbing him yet again. I point out I don't seem to be entirely with it at the moment. "With it! I've never known you to show any signs of ever being with it!" he exclaimed. The cheek of the man! Admittedly when I call I've ceased to say who it is, just saying "It's Nuisance again." You can tell we've used him a while.
Why aren't I with it? I suspect it's because I'm still preoccupied with the new kitchen. It will be a relief when all decisions are made & the kitchen on order. Meanwhile I've just spent an hour looking at sinks. I never realised there was so much choice. And then there's the taps as well. I'm beginning to think I'm just draining down the sink hole!
At the Pub yesterday thoughts went to holiday dreams. Al, our gardener, has just booked his dream holiday to New Zealand, stopping for a few days each way at Singapore. He had hoped to come back via Hong Kong, but that upped the price & caused complications in the booking, even having to go through Heathrow, not an experience he wants if he can avoid it. He's apparently got family there & they're going to lend Al & his wife their camper van so they can tour around at their leisure. At Singapore, Al's particularly keen to see the orchid collection. He's agreed to let his wife loose on Orchard Road, the shopping street with all the big international names like Prada, but he's not letting her loose with the credit cards.
The conversation moved on to other dream holidays. As you already know, mine is to visit Brunei. I'd also like to go to Penang some time. And the Great Barrier Reef & .... The Fox fancies South Africa. I have to admit we recently had a brochure arrive with a picture of elephants standing in front of Kilimanjaro (Kenya I know). It looked idyllic. So maybe Africa will be next on our horizons. After Brunei that is.
I was surprised when Gaz, the owner/manager, commented he's always fancied a cruise up the Amazon. He was looking at the newspaper at the time, & couldn't help envying the cricket supporters in the West Indies, not so much for the cricket as for the West Indies themselves. He'd also like to go back to New York some time. He went last year for the first time, for a family wedding, & was really wowed. Gaz's girlfriend, Becks, is keen on going to Cuba. She loves dancing, especially salsa at the moment. I suspect after that she'll be wanting to go tangoing in Argentina.
Little B has a hankering for Scotland. He's not been for years. Now he's in his 70s he feels his days for travelling abroad are numbered. I have to admit we've been feeling an itch to revisit Scotland. It's ages since we last went.
It's good to dream of something other than kitchens!
Why aren't I with it? I suspect it's because I'm still preoccupied with the new kitchen. It will be a relief when all decisions are made & the kitchen on order. Meanwhile I've just spent an hour looking at sinks. I never realised there was so much choice. And then there's the taps as well. I'm beginning to think I'm just draining down the sink hole!
At the Pub yesterday thoughts went to holiday dreams. Al, our gardener, has just booked his dream holiday to New Zealand, stopping for a few days each way at Singapore. He had hoped to come back via Hong Kong, but that upped the price & caused complications in the booking, even having to go through Heathrow, not an experience he wants if he can avoid it. He's apparently got family there & they're going to lend Al & his wife their camper van so they can tour around at their leisure. At Singapore, Al's particularly keen to see the orchid collection. He's agreed to let his wife loose on Orchard Road, the shopping street with all the big international names like Prada, but he's not letting her loose with the credit cards.
The conversation moved on to other dream holidays. As you already know, mine is to visit Brunei. I'd also like to go to Penang some time. And the Great Barrier Reef & .... The Fox fancies South Africa. I have to admit we recently had a brochure arrive with a picture of elephants standing in front of Kilimanjaro (Kenya I know). It looked idyllic. So maybe Africa will be next on our horizons. After Brunei that is.
I was surprised when Gaz, the owner/manager, commented he's always fancied a cruise up the Amazon. He was looking at the newspaper at the time, & couldn't help envying the cricket supporters in the West Indies, not so much for the cricket as for the West Indies themselves. He'd also like to go back to New York some time. He went last year for the first time, for a family wedding, & was really wowed. Gaz's girlfriend, Becks, is keen on going to Cuba. She loves dancing, especially salsa at the moment. I suspect after that she'll be wanting to go tangoing in Argentina.
Little B has a hankering for Scotland. He's not been for years. Now he's in his 70s he feels his days for travelling abroad are numbered. I have to admit we've been feeling an itch to revisit Scotland. It's ages since we last went.
It's good to dream of something other than kitchens!
Monday 16 February 2009
Panic strikes
Panic strikes. Over the weekend I've realised our car's MOT is due on Thursday & we've not yet booked it in. First thing this morning I ring Neil, our friendly mechanic.
"It will have to be Thursday," he says.
Great. We've got a busy week ahead. Today it's the food shopping. Tomorrow we're off to get the last of the kitchen designs. Wednesday is the day of the funeral for our neighbour. Friday I'm off to see the doc. The blood tests I had done last week revealed I've got something amiss with the functioning of my thyroid now, so I've got to see him to discover the severity of the problem & how it can be remedied. I suspect it will be just a case of tweaking my medication. It's quite a relief to discover the only day Neil can take the car is also the only day we don't need a car.
"It will have to be Thursday," he says.
Great. We've got a busy week ahead. Today it's the food shopping. Tomorrow we're off to get the last of the kitchen designs. Wednesday is the day of the funeral for our neighbour. Friday I'm off to see the doc. The blood tests I had done last week revealed I've got something amiss with the functioning of my thyroid now, so I've got to see him to discover the severity of the problem & how it can be remedied. I suspect it will be just a case of tweaking my medication. It's quite a relief to discover the only day Neil can take the car is also the only day we don't need a car.
Sunday 15 February 2009
A fair-weather Christian?
I'm beginning to question if I'm not a fair-weather Christian. Once again it's wet & I've not got off to church - you get very wet in a wheelchair & my electric scooter doesn't like the wet. I've not been to church once this year, between ice, snow, rain, & just plain cold. I feel a bit guilty. I try telling myself that if God wanted me there, He needs to do something about the weather. I mention my guilty feelings to the Fox.
"No, you're not a fair-weather Christian, just a fair-weather church goer," he tells me.
I'm reassured. There is a difference. Even if I don't get to church, I try to spend a part of Sunday morning reading the Bible readings that are part of the service I would have attended if I'd gone, & saying a few prayers. Ultimately God is not ignored & remains a central part of my life. That's the important thing.
"No, you're not a fair-weather Christian, just a fair-weather church goer," he tells me.
I'm reassured. There is a difference. Even if I don't get to church, I try to spend a part of Sunday morning reading the Bible readings that are part of the service I would have attended if I'd gone, & saying a few prayers. Ultimately God is not ignored & remains a central part of my life. That's the important thing.
Saturday 14 February 2009
Feeling old
The man came to change the electricity meter. To our bemusement he came from United Utilities, our local water authority, rather than our electricity supplier. I was handed a card with the reading of the old meter & was surprised, & somehow reassured, to see United Utilities is still based at Great Sankey, near Warrington. I commented, when United Utilities was the North West Water Authority, I'd worked there. I reminisced about a summer job I'd had there one university vacation - one of the best paid jobs I ever had, if somewhat tedious.
"Oh what were you doing?" he asked.
"Market research. I had to go through all the paperwork to check all the toxic waste that left places in the North West arrived at all the destinations in the same quantities they were meant to go to for safe disposal. At the time there had been a lot of controversy about corroding containers of toxic waste appearing in rivers, parks etc in the area."
"Oo," he said, "I didn't know that ever happened."
"It was in the mid-70s," I said.
"That was before I was born," he retorted.
I suddenly felt very old. I've lived with grey hairs most of my life, but now I felt ancient, even though I'm still in my mid-50s!
"Oh what were you doing?" he asked.
"Market research. I had to go through all the paperwork to check all the toxic waste that left places in the North West arrived at all the destinations in the same quantities they were meant to go to for safe disposal. At the time there had been a lot of controversy about corroding containers of toxic waste appearing in rivers, parks etc in the area."
"Oo," he said, "I didn't know that ever happened."
"It was in the mid-70s," I said.
"That was before I was born," he retorted.
I suddenly felt very old. I've lived with grey hairs most of my life, but now I felt ancient, even though I'm still in my mid-50s!
Friday 13 February 2009
The price of love
"Drinks all round," commands Al, our gardener.
Surprised at this we enquire what's up. It's the first time he's ever bought us a drink.
"It's my birthday. I'm 60. Time for my free bus pass." He's looking forward to seeing the bus driver's face when he tries to get on with the dog on his lead in one hand & his chainsaw in the other.
We ask if he's doing anything special to celebrate. He's off for a family meal out in the evening.
"I fancied going for a Chinese. But the grandchildren won't have it. There's vegetables." This is a source of great disgruntlement for Al. His passion is for veg growing, entering many a show with them. More importantly he grows them for flavour. In summer he lives on salads. He always has a good variety of vegetable dishes with his meals.
"So we're having to go Italian. At least they'll eat spag bol or a pizza," he adds. "I've checked out the menu. At the place we're going, the wife & I can get some proper food like whole sea bass or lamb with a blue cheese sauce. I couldn't face the Pizza Hut they wanted. But I would have preferred Chinese."
Oh the price some people have to pay for the sake of teenage grandchildren!
Surprised at this we enquire what's up. It's the first time he's ever bought us a drink.
"It's my birthday. I'm 60. Time for my free bus pass." He's looking forward to seeing the bus driver's face when he tries to get on with the dog on his lead in one hand & his chainsaw in the other.
We ask if he's doing anything special to celebrate. He's off for a family meal out in the evening.
"I fancied going for a Chinese. But the grandchildren won't have it. There's vegetables." This is a source of great disgruntlement for Al. His passion is for veg growing, entering many a show with them. More importantly he grows them for flavour. In summer he lives on salads. He always has a good variety of vegetable dishes with his meals.
"So we're having to go Italian. At least they'll eat spag bol or a pizza," he adds. "I've checked out the menu. At the place we're going, the wife & I can get some proper food like whole sea bass or lamb with a blue cheese sauce. I couldn't face the Pizza Hut they wanted. But I would have preferred Chinese."
Oh the price some people have to pay for the sake of teenage grandchildren!
Thursday 12 February 2009
A visit
We popped over to see MK & Helen yesterday. We went the country route. Along the way we had fabulous views of the snow-clad Pennines & Lakeland fells. More snow had obviously fell on the Pennines since our visit to Lancaster on Tuesday. We often crossed the canal. The water looked almost eerily still. In parts the bright blue sky reflected in the dark waters. Nearer the edges nothing was reflected in the frosted glass of ice. All quite beautiful if rather cold.
Wednesday 11 February 2009
A decision at last
WE got the results of the second kitchen design yesterday. If ever there was someone who could rub you up the wrong way, this man was he. He was a bit put out at having to do his presentation downstairs as there was no lift & there's no way my wheelchair is going up a staircase.
The performance began. He offered us some tea, mainly to show us the boiling water tap, one of the latest gizmos on the scene; "Oh," says I, adding "It's like the old geysers." He didn't like that.
He tried to start again. He reminded us of the quality of the product; we thought if we hadn't realised that we wouldn't have been there. He proceeded to tell us we couldn't possibly use the room for dining & cooking; we've managed perfectly happily for the last 9 years & intend to for many a year yet. He eliminates the table in favour of a breakfast bar; we want a relaxing atmosphere to spend time, both before & over dinner, not a cafe. So it goes on. When it comes to appliances, we want to choose the cookers, not necessarily from the ranges he stocks ie Neff or Miele, both very expensive ranges; they will only install products bought from them at full price. So it goes on.
Finally he finishes, some two hours later, & suggests making our next appointment to discuss the matter further. I suggest no. We'll ring him when we've had all the quotes, thought about it & decided who to go with. He wouldn't leave it at that. He presses harder to get the appointment. He had begun to get the feeling we'd "gone off message". At this point the Fox exploded enough was enough. He'd hated the kitchen design from the moment he'd seen it. We left & adjourned to a pub to recover our composure. He, I suspect, went off to moan about us wasting his time & to recover from the shock of the unforeseen blast from the Fox.
However, in the evening, we had a little celebration. On the way to the meeting, I had told the Fox that I'd come to a conclusion about the kitchen. When, on Monday, we'd mentioned at the Pub how the kitchen hunt was going, Fran had said, if we'd found a kitchen we liked, at a price we were prepared to pay, why look more. I'd come to the conclusion she was right. The design we'd seen last week we were both reasonably happy with - just needing a bit of fine tweaking - so let's go with them, I say. The Fox agrees. What a relief to have made a decision & to be off the fence at last!
We'll pop along one day next week to let them know. In the meantime I'm deciding about what accessories, appliances & sinks we want. Then we should be able to put the order in at the same time. Later this week, I'll phone to check how the third company is doing with their design, but we don't expect we will change our mind. If they've not drawn anything up by then, I'll tell them not to bother. They were going to be very expensive by the sound of it.
The performance began. He offered us some tea, mainly to show us the boiling water tap, one of the latest gizmos on the scene; "Oh," says I, adding "It's like the old geysers." He didn't like that.
He tried to start again. He reminded us of the quality of the product; we thought if we hadn't realised that we wouldn't have been there. He proceeded to tell us we couldn't possibly use the room for dining & cooking; we've managed perfectly happily for the last 9 years & intend to for many a year yet. He eliminates the table in favour of a breakfast bar; we want a relaxing atmosphere to spend time, both before & over dinner, not a cafe. So it goes on. When it comes to appliances, we want to choose the cookers, not necessarily from the ranges he stocks ie Neff or Miele, both very expensive ranges; they will only install products bought from them at full price. So it goes on.
Finally he finishes, some two hours later, & suggests making our next appointment to discuss the matter further. I suggest no. We'll ring him when we've had all the quotes, thought about it & decided who to go with. He wouldn't leave it at that. He presses harder to get the appointment. He had begun to get the feeling we'd "gone off message". At this point the Fox exploded enough was enough. He'd hated the kitchen design from the moment he'd seen it. We left & adjourned to a pub to recover our composure. He, I suspect, went off to moan about us wasting his time & to recover from the shock of the unforeseen blast from the Fox.
However, in the evening, we had a little celebration. On the way to the meeting, I had told the Fox that I'd come to a conclusion about the kitchen. When, on Monday, we'd mentioned at the Pub how the kitchen hunt was going, Fran had said, if we'd found a kitchen we liked, at a price we were prepared to pay, why look more. I'd come to the conclusion she was right. The design we'd seen last week we were both reasonably happy with - just needing a bit of fine tweaking - so let's go with them, I say. The Fox agrees. What a relief to have made a decision & to be off the fence at last!
We'll pop along one day next week to let them know. In the meantime I'm deciding about what accessories, appliances & sinks we want. Then we should be able to put the order in at the same time. Later this week, I'll phone to check how the third company is doing with their design, but we don't expect we will change our mind. If they've not drawn anything up by then, I'll tell them not to bother. They were going to be very expensive by the sound of it.
Tuesday 10 February 2009
A sombre tone
Life takes on a sombre tone as we hear our neighbour has died. I wrote about Geoff last year when he ended up having daily heart attacks, then 5 stents put into his heart. Now he's had yet another heart attack. By the time they got him out to the ambulance he was dead. He was just 56, too young to die. His stepson has rapidly come home to stay with his mother - he's away in the armed services most of the time. It looks as though we have another funeral to go to soon.
It also makes you realise how lucky you are to be alive, in relatively good health, & together. All the more so when you realise Geoff was 56, midway between our ages. Our worries over the kitchen seem trivial compared to what his family must be feeling now.
It also makes you realise how lucky you are to be alive, in relatively good health, & together. All the more so when you realise Geoff was 56, midway between our ages. Our worries over the kitchen seem trivial compared to what his family must be feeling now.
Sunday 8 February 2009
Weather contrasts
I see the weather forecast reckons we should get snow today. Apart from the bit last Monday that disappeared by lunchtime, we've had none. We've begun to feel quite left out of things as we watched the pictures on the TV & listened to the radio as to how much disruption "we" have had of late. I will admit all the hills around are white. As we've gone into Lancaster, the Trough of Bowland, part of the Pennines, has been suitably white though only with a fairly thin covering. Equally we've had reports of how fabulous the Howgills, a stretch of the Pennines further north, around Sedbergh, are. But here has remained as usual.
The contrast in Australia seems incredible. There, they're having problems as a result of the phenomenally high temperatures & forest fires. Our thoughts have turned that way ever since our phone call from Australia last month & subsequent letter from there. I wonder if we'll ever return & see our friends. Next year will be our coral wedding anniversary (35th), so where could be more appropriate to celebrate than on holiday to see the Great Barrier Reef. Now I'm not so sure if we'll go. I'm still hoping to get to Brunei, & two such long trips so close together I suspect will be a bit much. We'll see.
The contrast in Australia seems incredible. There, they're having problems as a result of the phenomenally high temperatures & forest fires. Our thoughts have turned that way ever since our phone call from Australia last month & subsequent letter from there. I wonder if we'll ever return & see our friends. Next year will be our coral wedding anniversary (35th), so where could be more appropriate to celebrate than on holiday to see the Great Barrier Reef. Now I'm not so sure if we'll go. I'm still hoping to get to Brunei, & two such long trips so close together I suspect will be a bit much. We'll see.
Friday 6 February 2009
Another era
I've just been listening to Radio 4 as I did the ironing. A couple of items caught my ear.
The first was an item in "Woman's Hour". Young mothers of today apparently reckon they do not have, & never have had, the opportunities of women of the Baby Boon generation.
Well, I suppose that's us. Today most people of my generation may seem to be doing well, owning comfortable houses, having holidays abroad etc, but that was not so when we were in our twenties/early thirties as these young mothers are. I remember well when we got married in 1975, we had second-hand furniture & family cast offs to set up home with. My first cooker was new. It had only two elements you could use at a time. So you had 1 ring & a ring/grill/oven. That was it. We had no television for years. At first we had no car despite living a couple of miles from the nearest shop. It was a mile walk to the nearest station across the valley. The bus only passed twice a day. We didn't go on holidays for years. If we had a break it was only for a couple of days. We had no heating in our bedroom. No double glazing. Jack Frost rarely visits houses drawing patterns on the inside of the windows these days.
As for opportunities, I wonder how many of my generation even dreamt of having a gap year to travel the world. Europe was exotic in those days. Australia, the Far East, USA etc were beyond our wildest dreams. Young mums had to give up work to provide the childcare themselves as there were very little pre-school provision unless you were lucky enough to have family nearby to look after youngsters. And any work from home was paid a pittance. These days well paid work can be done often at home through computers. Flexi-hours & job share were unheard of ideas.
No. As far as I can see the affluent baby boomers have worked hard for what they've got & the younger generation has to do the same. The younger generation seem to think because their parents now seem reasonably comfortable, they've always had it so. That's not true. As a child you do not fully appreciate the work, efforts & stress your parents put into your upbringing. Instead they try to protect you from such concerns. It's only as you look back you realise it must have been so.
The only thing I do feel my generation, particularly those a few years older than us, is lucky in, is that we can, & I'm not sure if this isn't already becoming could, be confident of having enough pension in their old age for a basic life-style, & for many, better than basic. The days of retirement on full pension, related to inflation or even contemporary wages seem to be coming to an end.
The other programme that caught my ear was "The Battle of the Tweed" about Harris tweed. I couldn't help remembering that fabulous comedy film "Battle of the Sexes", starring Peter Sellers. As the programme journalist took us around the Hebrides to meet the weavers, I couldn't help seeing in my mind's eye Peter Sellers, who was playing a man who stood for tradition, showing how tweed is made to Constance Cummings, playing an American businesswoman determined to bring the tweed industry into the 20th century with mechanisation. Her face fell as she trudged from one out-of-the-way cottage to the next & saw what a cottage industry weaving was, & still is, it seems. Still all handwoven.
The first was an item in "Woman's Hour". Young mothers of today apparently reckon they do not have, & never have had, the opportunities of women of the Baby Boon generation.
Well, I suppose that's us. Today most people of my generation may seem to be doing well, owning comfortable houses, having holidays abroad etc, but that was not so when we were in our twenties/early thirties as these young mothers are. I remember well when we got married in 1975, we had second-hand furniture & family cast offs to set up home with. My first cooker was new. It had only two elements you could use at a time. So you had 1 ring & a ring/grill/oven. That was it. We had no television for years. At first we had no car despite living a couple of miles from the nearest shop. It was a mile walk to the nearest station across the valley. The bus only passed twice a day. We didn't go on holidays for years. If we had a break it was only for a couple of days. We had no heating in our bedroom. No double glazing. Jack Frost rarely visits houses drawing patterns on the inside of the windows these days.
As for opportunities, I wonder how many of my generation even dreamt of having a gap year to travel the world. Europe was exotic in those days. Australia, the Far East, USA etc were beyond our wildest dreams. Young mums had to give up work to provide the childcare themselves as there were very little pre-school provision unless you were lucky enough to have family nearby to look after youngsters. And any work from home was paid a pittance. These days well paid work can be done often at home through computers. Flexi-hours & job share were unheard of ideas.
No. As far as I can see the affluent baby boomers have worked hard for what they've got & the younger generation has to do the same. The younger generation seem to think because their parents now seem reasonably comfortable, they've always had it so. That's not true. As a child you do not fully appreciate the work, efforts & stress your parents put into your upbringing. Instead they try to protect you from such concerns. It's only as you look back you realise it must have been so.
The only thing I do feel my generation, particularly those a few years older than us, is lucky in, is that we can, & I'm not sure if this isn't already becoming could, be confident of having enough pension in their old age for a basic life-style, & for many, better than basic. The days of retirement on full pension, related to inflation or even contemporary wages seem to be coming to an end.
The other programme that caught my ear was "The Battle of the Tweed" about Harris tweed. I couldn't help remembering that fabulous comedy film "Battle of the Sexes", starring Peter Sellers. As the programme journalist took us around the Hebrides to meet the weavers, I couldn't help seeing in my mind's eye Peter Sellers, who was playing a man who stood for tradition, showing how tweed is made to Constance Cummings, playing an American businesswoman determined to bring the tweed industry into the 20th century with mechanisation. Her face fell as she trudged from one out-of-the-way cottage to the next & saw what a cottage industry weaving was, & still is, it seems. Still all handwoven.
Thursday 5 February 2009
A break for fish
Yesterday's trip to the kitchen shop worked out well. A kitchen for less than £10,000. We could easily knock down the price if we wanted. We would need to make a few changes anyhow, but at least we feel we've definitely found one place that does work of a high standard without charging the earth. We're now having a think about it.
I had intended to spend this morning perfecting the design produced, but I find my mind is resisting the whole idea of even looking at pictures, let alone working out relative storage space etc. Time we had a break. I think we both feel we've had enough for the moment.
So instead I've turned my mind to food & working on my next shopping list. We're hoping to get off to the fish shop this afternoon for some mackerel for the Fox to cook for today. The sky is very grey & one forecast, at least, suggested snow should arrive by midday, so there may well be a change of plans. If we do go, we will also buy a couple of pots of Morecambe Bay potted shrimps. The shrimps are just so sweet in their spiced butter that we can never resist - a welcome treat at any time.
I had intended to spend this morning perfecting the design produced, but I find my mind is resisting the whole idea of even looking at pictures, let alone working out relative storage space etc. Time we had a break. I think we both feel we've had enough for the moment.
So instead I've turned my mind to food & working on my next shopping list. We're hoping to get off to the fish shop this afternoon for some mackerel for the Fox to cook for today. The sky is very grey & one forecast, at least, suggested snow should arrive by midday, so there may well be a change of plans. If we do go, we will also buy a couple of pots of Morecambe Bay potted shrimps. The shrimps are just so sweet in their spiced butter that we can never resist - a welcome treat at any time.
Wednesday 4 February 2009
On to dishwaashers
This afternoon we're off to see the first of the designs drawn up by the men who came last week to measure up. After our Monday trip, we're beginning to question why we are going. But maybe he will come up with just the thing at a price we can afford. He never mentioned prices so I'm assuming expensive.
It will be a relief when we've got the kitchen organised. We're both becoming obsessed. Even over our glass of wine & bit of music in an evening, our conversion gets interrupted by "What about this" & we're once more talking about some aspect of the kitchen. But at least now, we're beginning to feel we're going along the right track. Price tags are put on appliances & the differences are immense from less than £300 to over £1000 for an oven. There's something tangible about the differences which makes it so much easier to come to a decision.
My next job is to look at dishwashers. We have an old one which came with the house. We've hardly used it. It can't take so many items - crystal glasses, cast iron pans, wooden handles, fine china etc - that it hardly seems worth putting it on for what's left. But maybe modern dishwashers are better. So far I've only glanced at a few small ones. I don't see the point of buying one just for a few plates. That's not the bit of dish washing I detest. It's the roast pan, casserole dishes etc that get to me. Unless I can find one that can accommodate those, we'll not be getting one. (Instead we'll be sticking with our old trustworthy one - the Fox.) Yet, at the same time, I do feel the modern kitchen ought to have a dishwasher. The Fox deserves a break as he gets older. And a mechanical dishwasher is increasingly something a prospective purchaser of the property would look for. I'm telling myself forget about that. We're not intending to move for many a year, probably not until one of us dies or our health deteriorates severely. By then, we'll probably need another new kitchen. Heaven help us!
It will be a relief when we've got the kitchen organised. We're both becoming obsessed. Even over our glass of wine & bit of music in an evening, our conversion gets interrupted by "What about this" & we're once more talking about some aspect of the kitchen. But at least now, we're beginning to feel we're going along the right track. Price tags are put on appliances & the differences are immense from less than £300 to over £1000 for an oven. There's something tangible about the differences which makes it so much easier to come to a decision.
My next job is to look at dishwashers. We have an old one which came with the house. We've hardly used it. It can't take so many items - crystal glasses, cast iron pans, wooden handles, fine china etc - that it hardly seems worth putting it on for what's left. But maybe modern dishwashers are better. So far I've only glanced at a few small ones. I don't see the point of buying one just for a few plates. That's not the bit of dish washing I detest. It's the roast pan, casserole dishes etc that get to me. Unless I can find one that can accommodate those, we'll not be getting one. (Instead we'll be sticking with our old trustworthy one - the Fox.) Yet, at the same time, I do feel the modern kitchen ought to have a dishwasher. The Fox deserves a break as he gets older. And a mechanical dishwasher is increasingly something a prospective purchaser of the property would look for. I'm telling myself forget about that. We're not intending to move for many a year, probably not until one of us dies or our health deteriorates severely. By then, we'll probably need another new kitchen. Heaven help us!
Tuesday 3 February 2009
The kitchen hunt continues
The snow quickly disappeared yesterday. By lunchtime there was just little bits in gardens & fields. We thought we'd make the most of it & go to look at yet another kitchen company. What a relief this was. A company that was prepared to mention the cost. I'm deeply suspicious of companies that don't tell you the price. I'm always reminded of the saying "If you have to ask, you can't afford it." These days we may be able to afford it, but whether we want to afford it is another question. Ultimately I want to compare the prices. I know how I feel about the aesthetics & workmanship, but is it worth the extra price for corian or granite, rather than laminate? That's the sort of question I need to resolve before I feel I can really come to any decision. Without prices it's impossible to come to any sensible conclusion.
As the Fox mentions in his blog, we were reasonably satisfied with the quality & designs of what we saw. They recommended us to first sort out exactly what appliances we want so they can then organise the units to fit around in a satisfactory way. So, this morning, I'm hitting the computer & trying to decide precisely which ovens, hobs, microwaves, dishwashers etc we want. That will be a useful exercise whoever we finally buy from. I want equipment that suits my purpose, our usage, rather than what someone else thinks is best for us.
It was reassuring when we got home to see the answerphone flashing. Our financial consultant. He was just thinking it was time for our annual review. He asked if there was any big expenses on the horizon. I told him about the kitchen & the silly prices we'd heard so far (£20,000+ for a new kitchen for a house worth about £100,000 if we wanted to sell) & our urge for a holiday in Borneo. We're looking forward to seeing just how much we are worth now, with all the jitteriness of recession, to know whether we can afford both. Stuart's reaction was "Go on the holiday. The kitchen can wait." A man after my own heart.
As the Fox mentions in his blog, we were reasonably satisfied with the quality & designs of what we saw. They recommended us to first sort out exactly what appliances we want so they can then organise the units to fit around in a satisfactory way. So, this morning, I'm hitting the computer & trying to decide precisely which ovens, hobs, microwaves, dishwashers etc we want. That will be a useful exercise whoever we finally buy from. I want equipment that suits my purpose, our usage, rather than what someone else thinks is best for us.
It was reassuring when we got home to see the answerphone flashing. Our financial consultant. He was just thinking it was time for our annual review. He asked if there was any big expenses on the horizon. I told him about the kitchen & the silly prices we'd heard so far (£20,000+ for a new kitchen for a house worth about £100,000 if we wanted to sell) & our urge for a holiday in Borneo. We're looking forward to seeing just how much we are worth now, with all the jitteriness of recession, to know whether we can afford both. Stuart's reaction was "Go on the holiday. The kitchen can wait." A man after my own heart.
Monday 2 February 2009
A white world
It's a white world today. It has snowed through the night & flurries continue to arrive. Compared to most of the country we've been lucky. Just an inch or so. Nonetheless, excited children's voices can be heard around about. I suspect some snowballs are being thrown. If it continues, snowmen will appear. There is something quite magical about a world covered with a light coating of white. It makes you look at the world anew. The snow falls silently, flakes float quite gracefully down (unless it's a blizzard blowing). The world sound more silent, muffled, as the traffic is reduced. No one is venturing out unnecessarily.
The world looks so much brighter as the white reflects any available light. Mr P, the music teacher, often goes to Finland. The daylight hours there in winter are very short. He tells us the last few years have been particularly miserable, because of global warming. There hasn't been much snow so the days have been even darker than usual.
I've nervously ventured out to put some food out between snow flurries. A few breadcrumbs first. Later some crushed fruit. Mrs Blackbird is hopping around hungrily. Fortunately our lake, the big pool of water that has collected behind the house after a week or so of rain, remains unfrozen, so the birds can have a drink. I'm very grateful to have a warm house to be in.
The world looks so much brighter as the white reflects any available light. Mr P, the music teacher, often goes to Finland. The daylight hours there in winter are very short. He tells us the last few years have been particularly miserable, because of global warming. There hasn't been much snow so the days have been even darker than usual.
I've nervously ventured out to put some food out between snow flurries. A few breadcrumbs first. Later some crushed fruit. Mrs Blackbird is hopping around hungrily. Fortunately our lake, the big pool of water that has collected behind the house after a week or so of rain, remains unfrozen, so the birds can have a drink. I'm very grateful to have a warm house to be in.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)