Sunday, September 27, 2009
Friday, September 25, 2009
Wednesday, September 23, 2009
She is, of course, far more beautiful than the normal run of babies. She is, which goes without saying, already displaying signs of superior intelligence. And, for a creature barely a week old, she is amazingly strong and active and alert.
Am I besotted? I think I must be.
Saturday, September 19, 2009
What I didn't expect was hearing from Dave that Zoe has been safely delivered of a daughter, our first grandchild. She was a week earlier than expected - the impatient little thing!
So now I must go and wash the smell of pig from my person and get myself ready to visit Zoe, Dave and daughter.
Thursday, September 17, 2009
Tuesday, September 15, 2009
While we were in Edinburgh we couldn't have wished for a better tour guide than our adopted fourth daughter, Miss Mels. When we weren't out people-watching, fudge-eating, ghost-touring, gig-going, tartan-shopping and gourmandising we chilled in her flat for a time.
Mel lives in a very lovely part of the city. It is jam-packed full of interesting specialist shops selling things like paraffin lamps, old-time gramophones and delectable smelly cheeses. The charity shops were to die for. I spent a very enjoyable afternoon shopping for second hand books while Bert was falling in love with an Irish barmaid in one of the local pubs. Afterwards we went back to Mel's for coffee and a listen to her old gramophone records.
Thursday, September 10, 2009
Tuesday, September 08, 2009
The other day I asked the household where some kitchen gadget had got to. Bert says,
The last place I saw it was on the sill in the parlour.
Parlour? Where’s the bloody parlour?
I never said parlour. I said…you know…that room out there.
You mean the room with the washing machine in it?
Yeah. That room, the – you know?
The scullery. Or utility room if you like. Where did parlour come from?
I never said parlour.
You bloody did.
It’s a big problem for me this shifting of place names. The outside is a nightmare. The sheds are referred to something like this -
- The Woodshed
- The Milk House
- The Byre
- The Cattle Shed
- The Workshop
- The Hen House
- The Pig House
- The Calf Shed
- The Back Shed
- The Potato Shed
- The Turf Shed
- The Silo
- The Tractor Shed
- The Tool Shed
- Ian’s Shed
Of course we don’t have fifteen sheds. We have about six shed-type buildings and each one has at least three names depending on which decade Bert’s mind is settled on that particular day. For instance, if Bert refers to the Turf Shed, will he be speaking of the shed which currently contains turf (unlikely) or does he mean a shed that was used for turf storage twenty, or even forty years ago. This is not much use to me as I don’t know where they kept the turf during the Swinging Sixties.
It was no better in our last place where we only had a garage and three polytunnels.
Where are my orange handled secateurs?
In the tunnels.
The one with the clematis.
They all have clematis.
Big ones or liners?
Och you know. The one with Denise’s potting bench.
She has two bloody potting benches! Here they are! Why couldn’t you just have said the middle tunnel?
I blame his mother.
When this was her house there were three rooms referred to as The Scullery and two known as The Pantry and two called The Good Room and two more called The Front Room. Upstairs was The Room, Bert’s Room, Lizzie’s Room, Uncle Andy’s Room, Our Room, My Room, The Good Room, The Room With The New Window, The Room With The Broken Floor, The Cupboard, The Back Room, The Room With The Good Bed, The Front Room, The Big Room, The Wee Room, The Best Room and the Attic. As far as I know, The Toilet and The Bathroom were never called anything else but I could be wrong.
There was none of that nonsense in our house. Upstairs we had 4 bedrooms which were named according to the persons who slept in them, downstairs was The Kitchen, The Scullery, The Room, The Bathroom and The Room Before The Bathroom. It never changed downstairs. Outside sheds were named and stayed named. You knew where you were in Tannaghmore.
And don’t get me started on fields.
Sunday, September 06, 2009
I was Pearlie-sitting yesterday and didn't make the Portrush air show but whilst, Cinderella-like, I was hanging out a lineful of Pearlie's grannypants, I heard the sound of old-style propellers, looked up and saw this fellow fly right over my head. It was flying low so I got a right good look.
Then, this afternoon, while Bonnie and I were braving the drizzle on the riverside walk we heard and saw the Red Arrows flying home. That put a huge smile on my face. I do like seeing sky machines. And have liked it ever since those far-off days when I would skip school to hang around Aldergrove Airport. Such days!
Friday, September 04, 2009
Thursday, September 03, 2009
Katy may look a little grumpy in this picture but she was only out of hospital (day before Christmas Eve) and those SCBU nurses had her spoiled rotten. Four year old Zoe takes it all in her stride. Just look at that calm expression.
Zoe is going to be the greatest mommy.
This month! I'm so excited!