Tonight I am mostly drinking red wine and hanging out with some old and dear friends. Our conversation has been about altered reality and, this being a public platform read on occasion by people who may well approach me at a funeral and say, "Hi Nelly, been reading your blog, the one about mushrooms" I feel that I cannot elaborate too greatly. To make up for this I'm showing some photographs 'altered' and 'enhanced' by the photo app Dreamscope.
Nelly at 20, original photo a 'selfie'.
Exuberant, original picture by ZMB
Hannah by me. I think she looks like Carrie from Homeland, only happier
The Curfew Tower, in the centre of Cushendall village, was built around 200 years ago by the local landowner, Francis Turnly. Its purpose then was to confine riotous prisoners. The tower, also known as Turnly’s Folly is four storeys and 40 feet high. It is built from red sandstone rubble and has a medieval appearance with turrets and a narrow ironclad door.
It is currently owned by artist Bill Drummond, formerly of The KLF and the K Foundation. Famous for burning a million pounds in 1994. Since 1999 the Tower has been run as an artist residency.
Cushendall and Curfew Tower now. As usual, the village is choked with traffic.
If cats are introduced to dogs as kittens the cat will adapt well to their canine companion. As kittens, they will treat the dog as a surrogate mother (no matter the dog's gender) and as adult cats, they consider the dog a contemptible creature only fit for using and teasing. Remember the adage, dogs have owners, cats have staff.
Judy and Fred
Fred is an Alpha Cat, Judy an Alpha Bitch. Fred always wins as Judy cannot climb trees.
Fred and Bonnie
When Fred was a kitten he was happy to permit Bonnie to share his food. No matter that the food was actually Bonnie's to start with. Fred was generous.
Bonnie and Holly
Bonnie's first kitten was Holly. She was very tolerant and put up with the little cat's relentless bullying.
Paddy, Rosie and Harry
Cats love to lie on people's beds. So do dogs. Paddy is resigned to Harry's presence. Rosie is thoughtful. Perhaps she should bite Harry? Harry is resolute. He's not going anywhere.
Holly and Jess
There are very few photographs of Jess in a cat's company. She's never known a kitten and the adult cats she shares her home with are not to her liking. Holly is hard to see in this picture as she has been treed. Jess needs to get herself a kitten.
Remembering Muff, Danny, Bonnie, Paddy, Rosie and Harry.
Even though I've been living on this road for more than twenty years I don't really know the neighbours that well. Obviously, we know Clint but then we did sell him the property, the first one we had on the road. And then there is the guy that laid the lino. He was actually mid-job when he told us he lived down the road. His daughter turned up at a barbecue once and she was here for a couple of hours before I even realised she was a neighbour. And there's Mr Twinkle, the one with the boating lake but I'm not sure he even lives there anymore. There's Jimmy but sure, everyone knows him. Our nearest neighbours on the road I don't know at all, wouldn't recognise them if I met them in the Spar yet, as of yesterday, there has been social media conversation. That's modern day communication for you, it's like texting someone in the next room or Facebook messaging your daughter from the kitchen to her bedroom.
It happened like this - I was on Twitter looking for information on something that had occurred locally and I came across a snippet of film taken in the Cullybackey area. The camera man (our neighbour) had filmed it using a drone. The special thing about the film was that it was taken on a very foggy morning so was tremendously atmospheric.
I retweeted it and sent this message,
I hope Steven won't mind if I share this screen grab from his film. The foreground shows our own wee hame and the woods behind. I think the mistiness is rather beautiful.
Click to make big
I called this post A Buzzard's Eye View even though I reckon no sensible buzzard would ever venture out on a morning like that.
This is going to be an easy post. All I had to do was go through my Friends and Family/General Family file to seek out these great pictures of me being a Granny.
Granny and Martha, 2011
This one was taken at the Ulster Museum by Hannah. Martha was aged around 18 months.
Granny and Evie, 2012
Photo credit belongs to Zoe. Miss Evie aged about 6 months. We were visiting Deirdre in Leitrim.
I was in Norfolk visiting my new grandson. James was only a few weeks old. Katy was the photographer.
Grandchildren are wonderful, especially when they are wee for they hide a multitude of sins. Held in front of a chubby middle they produce an immediate slimming effect and nuzzling their downy little heads is a super way to hide a double chin. I wouldn't be without them.
But sometimes things do not go according to plan. This photograph did not turn out as well as I might have hoped.
Martha and James were supposed to hide Granny's fat tum and they succeeded in doing so. James had the added task of helping to camouflage the grandmotherly double chin. But, as you see, he was at that wriggly stage and did not do his duty. Rascal!
P.S. I actually love the picture and James will be back in April so we'll give it another go. Strive for perfection. For me anyway. All them weans are perfect already.
I would really like to make this sweet rustic flower bed with the logs. I'm thinking trailing fuchsia and lobelia at the front and the Emily McKenzie Crocosmia as the main feature. And how about one with spring bulbs? Miniature narcissi and primroses. Would be divine. That would be on my wish list for sure.
And what about some guinea fowl when this damned avian flu restriction is over? Every time I see this photograph I'm reminded that guineas have been on my wish list for a very long time. They were Johnny's birds and lived here a long time ago. He let them run around and eventually Foxy took them all but I'd take far better care of them. Probably.
Both of these pictures would feature on Bert's wish list too for he yearns for great lumps of wood and logs. He'd have my rustic bed dismantled and on the fire, before you could say 'primula auricula' and as for the guinea fowl, they'd have nowhere to clamber and perch once Bert got the chainsaw out.
I keep reminding him he has a wood but he says it's too far away. It would take him ten minutes to get out there and he'd need a donkey to haul the wood back. I keep reminding him he has a quad bike and a tractor but, come to think of it, I've actually always wanted a donkey.
We watched this really interesting programme on TV tonight about these four guys from Kerry who rowed a traditional Irish rowing boat, a naomhóg, from Dublin to Santiago de Compostela in Spain. They were following the ancient route taken by Irish pilgrims on the way of St James, also known as the Camino. I've been following this tale myself for several years as one of the pilgrims is my brother-in-law, Brendan. He's the smiley one with hair.
All these fellows live by the sea and are keen boatmen.
I've heard a lot about the trip but it was sobering to see them in their tiny craft in those big waters. Thankfully, they were accompanied on the first leg of the journey by a support craft, a yacht, and it was just as well as the sea became very rough on the crossing to Brittany and they needed its help.
All the men said that they learned a lot about themselves on the journey. I may have learned something myself. When life doesn't go to plan just keep moving forward and things will probably work out just fine.