Panic Attack

Curtains were not my priority when we first moved to Springhill. Then Pearlie fell and broke her hip and for some reason, not wishful thinking, I convinced myself she was likely to die. And what happens when there is a death in the family? The curtains must be drawn closed. And we had none to close. In a panic, I rushed off to Dunelm Mill and bought four sets of floor-length curtains for the front of the house. Never mind, that no one would ever see them because we live up a lane on a rural road. Which was why I hadn’t actually bothered with curtains before.

Happily, Pearlie survived her fall and lived another six years. And when she did die the curtains weren’t drawn closed because who’d see them anyway?

There were two pairs, one cream coloured and one rusty red. Thirteen years later and they are still on the go. They are used in one room only, my private, secret sitting room. The red curtains are hung in autumn and winter and the lighter ones are for the warmer months.

So there I was today, standing and stretching on a step-stool, hanging the cream curtains (I’m a bit out of synch this year) when I felt dizzy, slightly short of breath, and with a tiny niggle in my throat. You may imagine what my first thought was. Especially as, only minutes earlier I’d given a couple of dry coughs. Immediately I started to panic. Corona! Maybe I hadn’t been as careful as I thought when going into town to walk the children’s puppy. Or maybe I'd picked up the virus somewhere else. For about twenty minutes I was up to high doh, wondering if I should get tested, then eventually all my ‘symptoms’ subsided and I felt normal again.

Funnily enough, as I type this, the panicky feeling is coming back. How I wish we could return to that carefree just vaccinated time when we thought our worries were almost over. Oh well. At least I have curtains, even if they are thirteen years old.

More posts about curtains.

https://nellysgarden.blogspot.com/2006/03/curtains.html

https://nellysgarden.blogspot.com/2006/03/i-need-to-get-out-more.html

https://nellysgarden.blogspot.com/2006/04/on-single-beds-curtains-and-being.html

https://nellysgarden.blogspot.com/2006/08/nelly-gets-nekkid.html

Happy Birthday

Twelve Years Ago

Today was always going to be a busy day. We'd planned to go visit, with a view to procuring, kune kune pigs. Later we'd be going to the Wee Manny's for a surprise birthday party.

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.

Today

Twelve years later and Miss Martha has just started secondary school. Unfortunately, she has just missed a week's schooling due to testing positive for Covid 19 along with everyone else in her family. She wasn't too badly affected and will be back to her lessons tomorrow. Today, her birthday, was the first day she was able to leave the house. Apparently, the best thing about being in isolation was getting to watch all eight Harry Potter films again.

Evie, seen here peeking from behind the birthday girl, went back to school on Friday. She was the first to test positive and the first out of quarantine.  

I've missed our routines and am hoping that we will all be back to some sort of normality by next week. Martha has already made sure that the traditional Monday birthday meal at our house will still take place, albeit two weeks later. It's to be some sort of sour cream chocolate cake and enchiladas. We'll work out the details on Thursday. I may have to buy some more birthday candles* for I don't think I've got twelve decent-sized ones.

*I re-use birthday candles until they are about 45 mm. Shorter than that, they look really daft. 

Rare Bird

It was dusk when I remembered that the polytunnel seepers were still running. Ground mist was rising in the field next to the tunnel. Taps off, I stopped to look and saw a hare, moving fast and close to the edge of the wood. It heard my noise and stopped still. I watched it until it moved and disappeared into the trees. A lovely moment.

Earlier today I came across a picture of a bird that I could not identify, not even with the help of Collins Birds of Britain and Europe.

Checked the photo info. It was taken in Norfolk, October 2017. Looked like a wader. Where was I that day? Wells-next-the-Sea watching curlews? 

Completely stumped I turned to social media and contacted my most bird-savvy Facebook friend and previously my A-Level. English teacher, Brian. He was quick to identify my long-legged friend as a black-winged stilt (juvenile). I was very impressed. He'd only ever seen them in Lanzarote so it appeared to have been a rare sighting. But I was doubting myself, not even completely convinced that the photograph was actually mine. (it was). I investigated further and found that the black-winged stilt had been photographed at Pensthorpe Natural Park, Fakenham, which is practically beside where Katy lives. Not a rare sighting at all, just like if I went to Belfast and told everyone I'd spotted sun bears and meerkats without mentioning it was at the zoo. 

Perhaps you will be thinking that my English teacher, bird expert, Facebook friend must be very ancient indeed. Actually, he isn't for I was a very mature student and am older by a few years.

Walking The Dog

No family for dinner today. Instead, I delivered dinner to the door and took the pup for a walk. They are all isolating and the wee dog goes boogaloo if she doesn't get her walk.

Posie the pup. Photographed by Martha.

Another picture from a few years ago. The pre-Covid days. Who would have thought that there was going to be a pandemic and that these two little ones (and their parents) would all be affected? Answer to that question. Epidemiologists thought it might be likely.

So far, they're all well. As soon as the youngest gets her sense of taste and smell back I'm buying her everything she wants. 

Eight Things That Happened Today

 It's only just gone 6pm so who knows what I might still do before this day draws to a close but anyway, it's Saturday night and I this thing needs to be put to bed.

1. Got up at sparrow's first fart, drew jeans over a voluminous Victorian-style nightdress, put a coat on, a mask, dragged a comb through my snowy mane and headed to the New Garage to buy a paper. This is not the experience it once was. No Darwin to have the craic with, just a soulless trek to the newspaper stand, then off to the self-service till, five pounds in, thirty bob out, no human contact whatsoever. It does have its charms.

2. Back to bed with coffee and the news. A ponder on my early morning dream which was all about the day before my return to university as a (very) mature student. I had two essays to write but partied instead. 

3. I'm up again and Ben emerges before I complete my 30-minute chore blitz. We chat about the previous night when we entertained ourselves YouTubing on everyone from Willie Drennan to Robert Plant and Tricia Moriarty ft. Naoise Casenove. Ben was very impressed with Tricia's music and I was unimpressed with the mullet Plant sported in his Big Log days.

4. Bert's up now and after a small breakfast, they head to the long shed to play with Bert's new air rifle. Apart from the clarinet, that's all Bert has done this week, playing with guns and bows and arrows with various of his friends aged from twenties to sixties. Adulting is over-rated.

5. Ben's girlfriend arrives then the Banjos. Jazzer is staying Marty is not. 

6. Jazzer and I inspect the meadow. It does look rather boring. Creeping buttercup making an appearance, a few docken plants coming to the fore. I scattered corn marigold seeds  around the edges. Just one patch taking hold will make me happy. I still haven't sowed the yellow rattle.

7. Jazzer has made a chilli. She has omitted beans, says she does not like them.

8. We have had the annual (?) reappraisal of our connection. There is a lot of birthday wine and chocolate. All is well.

Trawling the Archives Again

Last night Bert was trying to work out how long we've been living in our present house. He says,

I'm sure it must be thirteen years now.

And I say, 

I think it has to be more than that. We moved house not long after I began blogging and I've had Nelly's Garden much longer than thirteen years.

I do tend to use this blog as an aide-memoire, and God knows, I need one of those. I checked it out. Found out that come next month we will have been living at Springhill for sixteen years. I also realised that once again I'd missed Nelly's Garden's anniversary. Yes, folks, Nelly has been cultivating this particular Garden for seventeen long years. Of course, we all know by now that personal blogs are kind of over. It's all Twitter and Instagram now for the oldsters and Snapchat and TikTok for the youngsters but I don't care. I have a blog that's gearing up to do its 'A' levels and will soon be heading off to Uni. And if I get the chance I'll do it for another seventeen years.

Another thing I checked out while I was trawling the archives was mentions of parties and wild times. I'd assured the Wee Manny on Tuesday that I never blogged about the mad shenanigans he and we got up to back when we were young striplings in our fifties. I believed I was telling the truth. Well, turns out I wasn't and there are lots of accounts of those crazy nights. But no photographs. Glad to see I had some shreds of sense and decency.

I'll just throw this one in there. Some of the musicians (Bert is the one with the clarinet) that played at my birthday party eight years ago. 

Garden Safari

There was a time when if I took a photograph of a flower and there was an insect on it I considered the picture to be marred. What was I even thinking about then? For pollinators make a flower picture. They are meant to be together. Take today. I was sitting on the step with my phone in my hand and decided to take a photograph of this bindweed bloom at my side. Just as I pressed the button this flew in.

One of the hoverflies. Just look at its delicate wings, and the elegant markings. The shot is greatly enhanced by its presence.

As the evening wore on I wandered over to see who was feeding on Bert's unsold buddleias. It was mostly small tortoiseshell and a few peacocks. The small tortoiseshells are doing really well this year. 

As I was taking pictures a small green fly landed on camera. Way to avoid having its image recorded. I watched it for a time then transferred it to a buddleia leaf and got my shot.

It's a beauty but it does have a dark side.

The common green bottle fly, Lucilia sericata (Meigen), formerly Phaenicia sericata, is a common visitor to carrion, feces, and garbage. Lucilia sericata, is also one of the most common species in the genus (Whitworth 2006). This blow fly is a member of the family Calliphoridae, and like many of the other blow flies, L. sericata plays an important role in forensic, medical and veterinary science. In forensic science, the larvae or maggots help to determine the period of insect colonization as it relates to the time of death, aiding law enforcement in their investigations.

An insect yet to be identified, feeding on corn marigolds.