That Was The Year That Was

Judy, Bonnie & Jess. Picture taken only weeks before Bonnie was put to sleep.

 I have been reviewing my year and at first ponder it seems as if it has been rather uneventful. For instance, the most interesting thing that happened last January was Martha and Evie building their first snowman and me taking a short movie of Evie stamping in a puddle. February wasn't much better as the highlight of the month was Jess' first trip to the beach.

In March I went to Fanad with the girls and their parents and although it was an enjoyable trip it was very cold. Roll on summer! And what a good summer it was.

Les erected a tiny little poly tunnel beside our big one and crammed it full of peppers, tomatoes and squash. Bonnie took her very last holiday to Fanad and, poor lamb, did not have the strength to make it to the beach. A month later she died.

In May Rusty knocked me down again and I spent weeks limping on a twisted knee. The treehouse project began.

July brought Leitrim Sister's amazing birthday celebration and a great family get together in that rushy county. Back home we had the drama of the sudden branch drop just beside the tree house and swing and moments after children had been playing there. Needless to say, the huge branch has been converted to logs long ago.

End of July and early August brought my trip to Vancouver to meet up with the BC branch of the family. A great time was had by me.

In September I celebrated my 60^th birthday with another family get together and a super night's craic in the BT club.

Also in September, everyone was saddened by the death of local poet and Nobel Laureate, Seamus Heaney. A great man, gone too soon.

October. Nothing happened and if it did I seem not to have recorded it.

In November I finally got around to getting my SmartPass (free bus and rail pass) and started getting out a bit more.

Then Christmas came. In December I blogged every day apart from yesterday. We had visitors who stayed until after midnight and I was too tired and didn't want to cheat by changing the date on a stop gap post. So. Today is New Year's Eve and a few folk are coming over tonight and I hope it will be a fairly quiet night. I might take a day or two off blogging to rest my muse.

Throughout the year I made a lot of wine. 25 gallons to be exact.

A very happy New Year to all that come here. See you in 2014!

Music Night In Pictures

Since Christmas (exhausting) I have found it hard to keep my promise of a post a day. So here's a collage of photographs from last night's party.

Thanks to all the musicians, friends and family who helped make it such a great evening. Tracey took the pictures in between singing herself hoarse. She was rewarded with a jar of our Springhill honey to help her vocal chords. Girlfriend makes a living from those pipes.

Music Night

I said I was going to post every day this month. Tonight has turned out to be quite the challenge,

Food on offer - turkey broth and delicious wheaten bread,

Drink on offer - the damson. God how I regret those trees that can do no more but the wine was, is, so GOOD!

Music - don't care if you are at Paul McCartney's house. What is going on here tonight is unbelievably GOOD!

And that is all.

Boxing Day Dinners: The Good, The Bad & The Ugly

How good must it be when your older sister is in possession of a pink plastic Peppa Pig recorder that you want and that she will not let you have because she does not want your slabbers on it, and then, when you are at Nellybert's (your grandparents) Boxing Day party, a kind lady (Swisser) gives you a long tubular present wrapped in shiny red paper that looks like it might be a recorder? And your eyes light up with delighted anticipation and your granny helps you unwrap it (quick, quick!) and it is a recorder, a beautiful wooden recorder, all colours, including pink!

I think that the sight of Evie's thrilled face, when she got that recorder, was one of the best moments of our Boxing Day party. And Swisser didn’t even know she wanted one! What an inspired choice.

Miss Martha got a harmonica which delighted her.

This was the best Boxing Day in years. The food turned out well, a traditional turkey and ham dinner, with curried lamb for those who preferred it and a choice of five desserts. I made all the food myself except for the two very delicious ice-creams which were created by Zoe and Martha.

Tirimasu, Pear and Ginger Tart, Fruit Trifle, Vanilla Ice Cream, Chocolate & Whiskey Ice Cream

But as successful Boxing Day dinners do not make as entertaining a read as the disasters, I offer this for your reading pleasure,  

The 2011 Boxing Day Disaster

It has taken me a while to be able to share this story. I must warn you in advance that it is a very sad story and that you will probably cry. This is the story of Nelly's Boxing Day Dinner Disaster.

My day began at 6am Why so early? I wanted to get a handle on my day and a start made on my enormous 22 pound Black Norfolk Turkey, a gift from Clint.

By 10:30am the turkey was thoroughly cooked, in fact it was a tad over-cooked. I was a little dismayed but Bert said, never to worry, sliced in gravy, nobody would notice a thing. Still I was embarrassed to see it sitting there all black skin and singed legs so I got Bert to slice it up and I tucked it away out of sight.

All was under control – desserts ready, most vegetables prepped, a nice pork roast sizzling away in the slow cooker. I just had some stuffing to prepare. At 2pm the pork was succulent and only needed a quick blast in the oven to make the crackling. This was a method I was quite confident about as I'd cooked pork in the slow cooker at least a dozen times.

I put the oven on to high and left it for thirty minutes. To tell the truth I got involved with other tasks. Suddenly I remembered I needed to put the pork in for a blast of heat so transferred it to a roasting tin. Over to the oven, door open....

Oh dear God! There were my turkey slices, burned, dried out, totally fucked. I was so distraught I dropped the pork whereupon it fell on the floor and disintegrated. See! I said you would cry. I certainly did.

What Happened Next?

I saw Bert coming across the yard carrying a bucket of logs. I ran to the door. I sobbed,

Bert! Come in! Something terrible has happened!

He took one look at my anguished face, dropped the logs and ran in. I believe he thought I had discovered his mother lying dead. Little did he know it was far worse than that.

Then What Happened?

I had hysterics.

Then What Happened?

I stopped crying and went to collect Hannah and her friends. On the way in I started howling again thinking of that noble turkey who had lived and died in vain. I gathered up my guests who. I believe, were rather apprehensive about their evening's entertainment.

Meanwhile, Back At The Ranch

Zoe and family arrived and measures were discussed as to how dinner could be salvaged. With the help of my lovely guests we saved the day. There was enough meat underneath the burned turkey and above the splattered pork to feed us all. Second helpings were in short supply but thankfully there were lots of desserts.

Last Year's Boxing Day Dinner

I seem to remember that there was also some sort of disaster at the 2010 Boxing Day dinner. I don't recall what it was about but it culminated in me running out and sobbing in the polytunnel and when I allowed myself to be persuaded back into the house the guests had eaten all the food. Ah well. I dare say it served me right for being such an hysterical bitch.

Next Year's Boxing Day Dinner

If God spares us things will be very different in 2012. There will be no more trying to serve two kinds of potatoes, three kinds of vegetables, stuffing, turkey and other festive meats to a party of a dozen or more, all at the same time and without a warming oven or enough chairs. Next year I'm going to go for a Polish-Irish feast. There will be thirteen dishes, desserts, casseroles, fishy things, pickled cabbage, mixed vegetables, turkey, pork, soup, flans, salads etc. Many of these dishes will have been prepared in advance. There will be a stack of napkins, plates and cutlery. There will be glasses and at least three bottles of vodka. There will be crackers. Because this year I forgot to put the bloody crackers out. Ah well. Next year.

The 2013 Boxing Day Success

Photo by Evie's Dad

It's stormin' like a demon out there. Hope the tree house stays up and the poly tunnels don't blow away.

I'm so happy that after a run of Boxing Day disasters, tonight's party was great. Everything turned out well. The guests were a delight. I did not have to go to the poly tunnel to cry fat tears of disappointment.

But I'm tired so I will tell you all about it on the 'morrow. If the power stays on.

Love, Nelly

Christmas Day. Here At Last. Soon Be Over. Thanks Be.

So here it is, Merry Christmas.

Task 1. Keep cat off the turkey. Bert's feelings about cat getting at the turkey? Sure there's enough for everybody...

Status. Ongoing

Task 2.

Rack wine.

Status. Completed

Task 3.

Long, luxurious soak in tub.

Status. Completed

Task 4.

Collect Hannah.

Status. Delegated

Christmas Eve 2013

The storm didn't come. According to a friend who works for NIE, and is one of those guys who repairs the lines when the power goes off, it passed above us on its way to the Western Isles. A relief for County Antrim, not so much for other places.

Before I knew this I was at the freezer taking out everything I thought we'd need for Christmas Day and Boxing Day. I also removed 4 pounds of frozen blackberries and started a gallon of wine. God spares us we'll be drinking that next Christmas Eve.

It's been another busy day. Lots of friends calling round and lots of baking and cooking. I felt a bit like Nigella except I expect her kitchen is nicer than mine and obvs she has access to better drugs. All I had was some paracetamol for my sore knee.

And regarding that sore knee - I was striding through Cully yesterday when it occurred to me that my knee hadn't troubled me for well over a week. Within moments it had started to throb. I wonder if it had been sore the whole time but I'd forgotten about it? The mind is a very curious thing.

Before The Storm

Preparing for Christmas (doddle) and writing a daily blog (really tough) is wearing me out. Every night at around 11:30pm I find myself totally exhausted and quite unable to do another thing.

Today I had the grandchildren around. Martha was pleased to see I had used her artwork to brighten up the kitchen. There were 4 pictures to start with but there had been some other small girls visiting a couple of days ago and they had found Martha's pictures, flung them to the ground, ripped one up and kicked the sparkly glitter off the rest of them. Luckily they did not get it all. Girls are very rough these days. The pictures are much safer pinned up.

Apparently the weather is to be hideous tomorrow. Ferocious winds are expected. If I don't post it will be because there is no power. That will be inconvenient but if the tree house doesn't blow down I won't mind too much about electricity.

That's enough for tonight. I have an hour left before exhaustion sets in.

The Wrong Kind of Snow

Thunder and lightning this morning. Not very seasonal. Then I looked out the window to see a dusting of snow which didn't look at all promising. Ah but it was horrible when I went out in it. The hens were still huddled in their house. They didn't like it either. The pigs are going to have a duvet day. Far too cold and miserable to stand in a field. I don't normally complain about the weather but today is horrible. Soon as I finish this cup of coffee I am for having a hot bath and then I'm piling on the thermals.

It is the wrong sort of Christmas snow, just great, freezing lumps of gloopy rain.

This day can only get better and, if it does, I'll tell you about it.

Lovely Day and Kimchi Recipe

I have had such a lovely day today. It started early. Out to my local supermarket to make a start on the Christmas food and drink shop. Ran in to my youngest, the incredibly hard working Hannah, who had been on the shop floor since 4am. People, think of all those folk who work crazy hours to make your holidays a big success. I know I do.

Then I cleaned house and racked wine. The birch sap and one of the elderflowers have turned out well. Swisser appeared for the wine tasting session and loved Elderflower 2 so much that I have reserved her a bottle. Elderflower 1 tastes slightly of cat pee but sure, you can't win them all.

Quite a few friends round tonight. Makes me feel all Christmassy. Even the dogs have had visitors, Ziggy and Rex. The house was quite mad for a while. Ziggy is staying the night as Hannah's current hours don't suit him. She is going to bed at 7pm, waking at 3am. Dogs don't understand that shit.

Now I know this post is a little bit woozy but when you rack 6 flagons of wine and sample a little bit of each of them (which you have to) it leads to wooziness, a dirty old job but somebody has to do it.

By the way, Swisser tried the kimchi and said she loved it.

Here is the recipe,




Quick Kimchi

Makes enough to fill a 1 litre jar. Preparation time 10 minutes. Fermenting time 24 hours to two weeks.

1 Chinese cabbage washed and dried

bunch of spring onions trimmed

3 cloves garlic, grated

5cm piece of ginger, peeled and chopped finely

8 anchovies in olive oil, finely chopped

85 g chilli paste

1 tbsp soy sauce

1 tbsp fish sauce




Remove outer leaves of cabbage, slice lengthways into 4 then crossways into 5 chunks.

Slice spring onions down the middle, then into 3 or 4 pieces.

Throw the rest of the ingredients into a large mixing bowl with 1 tbsp of sugar and salt*. Ad the cabbage and spring onions and stir to coat everything. 

Place in an airtight container, such as a Kilner jar and leave in the fridge.

You can use this after 24 hours, but the flavours really start to develop after about one week.



*I used much less salt and found the kimchi still quite salty.

Kimchi & Pineapple

Busy. busy day so this will be another brief posting.

We tried the kimchi. I'm told it goes with everything so we ate it with everything. Tonight's supper - bacon, boiled potatoes, brussels sprouts and kimchi. I love it and will definitely make it again. And to wash all that down? Pineapple wine. It is only eleven months old but it is delicious and strong. Now there is one lucky friend of mine who is getting a big jar of kimchi and a bottle of pineapple wine for a Christmas gift. Beats socks and I hear he already has some socks.

Kimchi is a strange food. It tastes pretty good when you're eating but for some reason it still keeps tasting great after you've eaten it. After all, as Bert says, 50 million Koreans can't be wrong.

Tough Day

This has been a tough day and it is not easy to blog on a tough day. The reason - Pearlie has not been in good form. There was something she needed to do, that she wasn't able to do and she was upset all day.  Bedtime brought respite and I found myself thinking (again) how fortunate we all are that she has such a brilliant team of carers. It wasn't always so but this particular group are diamonds.

And that is all I am going to say about that.

Except... we had the grandchildren today, lights of my life, and lights of Bert's life too.

More tomorrow.

Another Day Out In Belfast

Finished my Christmas shopping in Belfast today. Yippee! I had a really enjoyable day too. Just got it finished about an hour before my train was due so I took a little rest on the benches beside the Christmas market. I got in a conversation with an older gentleman who recognised my accent. Turned out he had been a Police Sergeant in my home town for nearly 30 years. After establishing that he had never had cause to arrest me, we dandered on to Great Victoria Street to wait for our respective trains. He knew all the people from around my part of the country so the craic was good.

It occurred to me that I am now a very junior member of a club, the folk who like to get out and about using their SmartPass.

There was one slightly sour note on the train home. I had grabbed a cup of coffee at the station and because I was early got on the train about ten minutes before it was due to leave. There was a choice of seats so I picked one with a table so I could put my drink down. Shortly before the train left a couple with two well-grown children got on and as they passed me the mother said, "One person sitting in seats meant for four." They headed past, obviously looking for four seats together. Moments later they came back and  she said it again! Making sure I got the message. I was telling Bert the story when I got home and he asked,

Did you consider giving them your seat?

What do you think? I should have said, 'Even though you are an ill-mannered harridan, I will let that go past. Please take this seat so that you, your ruffian of a partner and your great lumps of children can sit together. It would be my pleasure.' If they wanted a choice of seats they should have got there earlier. 

I have considered since that if it had been a sweet family, with two little children like Martha and Evie and they looked like they would dearly love to sit together I would gladly have found myself another seat.

Jilted!

There was this boy I fell in love with way back in 1976. It was a short relationship, late summer to Christmas Eve and its end took me by surprise. He was a very attractive boy, maybe a little on the small side but that didn't matter for I am short too. My mother did not take to him. I think she found him glib. To tell the truth she did not take to anyone I went out with for she suspected (rightly) that I was not adhering to the teachings of the Holy Catholic Church. This boy, I will call him David, was not from Ireland and he must have been quite lost to end up adrift in Ballymena. He had nowhere to live and was sleeping on various friend's sofas. I think he might have wanted us to find a place together but I had a daughter and I knew that she and I were both better off living at home with my family.

I was so happy then. Somewhere, at the back of my mind, I must have known that David and I were not going anywhere but I ignored these doubts. We were both so young. Our jobs were crap and we had very little money.

Christmas Eve came. I hadn't got David a present. He said it didn't matter. I said I would buy him a gift after Christmas. He said he had something for me but he would give it to me on Christmas Day. He wanted me to stay with him that night but I had my taxi booked. I needed to be home to sort my daughter's Santa presents. He pleaded. I was firm. I would see him at Rob's party the next day.

He never came to Rob's party and no-one knew where he was. There were no mobile phones in those days, no way to catch up with people. I tried to put on a brave face. A couple of days later a friend told me what had happened. After I left on Christmas Eve he had got talking to a girl and he had left with her. She had a cosy flat and he moved in with her that very night!

And that was that. I think about it every Christmas. And I feel for anyone who has a relationship fall apart during this season. But when I do look back what I remember best is the support of my friends and family. And am so happy that I put my little girl before my boyfriend. And I know now that he was definitely not the boy for me.

Jilted Nelly putting on a brave face at Rob's party, Christmas 1976

Dragging My Feet

I awoke this morning from an unpleasant dream in which I had hacked an unknown male to death with a kitchen knife. At first I was very relieved to find it was a dream but then felt disturbed to have dreamed the dream.

I am trying to watch The Curious Case of Benjamin Button but am rapidly losing interest. It was moderately enjoyable when Benjamin was old and decrepit but now he is looking more like Brad Pitt I don't care for it so much.

I could watch this week's episode of Homeland instead.

Or I could finish this blog post.

I have two books on the go and I have a chapter left of each one and I cannot seem to get round to finishing them.

I did not go to the post office today to post Kerry Sister's present.

I have a cold and feel very tired.

But is it any wonder I feel a bit flat when I read this interpretation of my horrible dream?

Murder

To dream that you have committed a murder indicates that you are putting an end to an old habit and a former way of thinking. This could also refer to an end to an addiction. Alternatively, the dream indicates that you have some repressed aggression or rage at yourself or at someone. Note also that dreams of murder occur frequently during periods of depression.

Knife

To dream that you are carrying a knife signifies anger, aggression and/or separation. There may be something in your life that you need to cut out and get rid of.  Perhaps you need to cut ties or sever some relationship. Be more divisive. Alternatively, a knife refers to some sexual tension or sexual confrontation.

Blood

To see blood in your dream represents life, love, and passion as well as disappointments. To dream that others are bleeding signifies an emotional cry for help.

Guilt

To dream that you feel guilty about something relates to how you are handling your successes and failures or competence and incompetence. You may feel undeserving of your achievements. Or on the other hand, you feel that you have let others down. Alternatively, the dream is symbolic of repressed and negative feelings that you may have about yourself.

Here is a photograph of a kitten to cheer us all up.

Coming To Terms With Father Christmas

Poor little Hannah was traumatised by the Father Christmas with the serial killer eyes

The Misses Martha and Evie visited Father Christmas today and, by all accounts, the meeting went very well. There had been some concern that Evie wouldn't take to the old guy as she had previously expressed some reservations about him.  It reminded me of my own youngest child's feelings about old Santa Claus when she were a girl. Indeed Hannah was not at all keen on scary strangers in unusual costumes. I recall her running in terror from the Michelin Man at Ballymena Show. 

Another terror figure from Hannah's early days

The sweet Staffordshire Santa that Hannah loved. 

The first thing that cured her of her fear of the fat guy in the red suit was getting a holiday job as an elf while she was at college. She never looked back.

 Totally cured of her Santa phobia. 

Christmas Begins

I've already completed a bit of Christmas shopping but, as it happened right here in front of this screen it doesn't really count. Today I hit the town, delivered a Christmas tree, took Miss Evie up the street and bought one thing. Then I came home, opened up my To Do spreadsheet, crossed off #27 Buy Kerry Sister present and replaced it with #104 Post present to Kerry Sister. Flushed with a real sense of achievement, I treated myself to a mug of coffee, an Ormo snowball and a read of The Guardian.

Christmas? It's a doddle.

Tomorrow I might tell you about the three incredibly rude women I encountered in the Tower Centre and how I dealt with them. That is if something more interesting doesn't occur in the meantime.

I'll leave you with a picture of the Christmas tree I brought to town and what happened when a pair of young reindeer got their mitts on it.

Organic home grown tree from Bert's Wood

A Day Out In Belfast

Nellybert had a wee day out in Belfast today. It did not start well. Bert wanted to wear his new hat, the one that bears the legend Killyless Stores, Animal Feed and Hardware Supplies but I said he shouldn't because it was too culchie looking for the city. He said I was a terrible snob and that it was a good warm pixie but when it came to the bit it wasn't dry enough because I had to wash it after Martha needed to use it as an emergency handkerchief. Poor child has a sneezy head cold. We decided we wouldn't call Bert 'Snot Hat' because it wasn't his fault.

Belfast was a-buzzing. We had a quick look around the Continental Market at City Hall before meeting our friends the Mularkeys, everyone of them social workers from Belfast. Despite this they like hanging out with Nellybert. Being a social worker from Belfast is, as you might imagine, an incredibly stressful job, so we, being good people, allow the Mularkeys to come to Cully and do unpaid horticultural work to relieve their stress, and this seems to work to everyone's benefit. There is probably not one single clematis montana rubens in County Antrim that has not been potted on by a QUB fully-trained social worker.

We had lunch at the Cafe Havana. Mrs Mularkey is quite the wine buff and her choice was inspired. I really will have to source a good supply of passion fruit to see if I can replicate that delicious wine we had. Afterwards we took a leisurely pub crawl around the Cathedral Quarter. But all good things must end. It was time to hit the train station. We had a leisurely stroll past City Hall, beautifully lit up for Christmas. We got to Great Victoria Street just in time for Young Mularkey to catch his bus. We had two minutes to get to the train so wisely decided to get the next one and headed to the Crown Bar with Mr and Mrs M. This bar, wile popular with tourists and film companies, was so bunged you could hardly see the ornate Victorian features within. We had time for just the one before we had to get our train.

On the train, tired and slightly bored, I logged on to the free wifi and found that even while we were sitting in the Harp Bar there had been a bomb in the Cathedral Quarter. We never heard a word of it. Ah Belfast! Keep on keeping on. You're bigger and better than any stupid bombers.

I Raise My Head Above The Parapet. A Teeny Bit.

I have been writing this blog for more more than 9 years now and. apart from a few incidents, have managed to avoid controversy and 'flame wars'. I'm a blogger, not a fighter. I keep my Facebook and Twitter accounts pretty vanilla as well.

That doesn't mean that I don't enjoy a bit of controversy on other people's pages and some spats are so compelling that I follow them with great interest. It is different when you don't actually know the people involved.

That changed for me a couple of days ago when someone I've actually met (through blogging) got involved in an argument with Loyalists Against Democracy (LAD for short). I'm a LAD fan although I don't agree with absolutely everything they get up to. For instance, a few of the comments on the site can be as sectarian as those they lampoon.

I won't go into detail as to what the spat was about but if anyone is interested enough  it should be easy to find out. The guy I know did LAD a big sneaky disservice and they came after him. Now I see that his Twitter and Facebook accounts are taken down.

This is what disturbed me. He is now accused as a bigot and a Loyalist while he didn't strike me as either. He has pictures of Loyalist bands on his Flickr photostream. So do I. He has a strong opinion on the Ulster Covenant. So does one of my best friends who'd walk over broken glass to help me if if I needed it.

Ah well people. If you court controversy on the internet you will get it in barrowloads. As for me, I'm just a wee Catholic granny living in Cully, keeping my head down. I'm not courting controversy or looking for a fight. Don't hit me!

I Make Kimchi

 So Zoe has Chinese cabbage growing in the poly tunnel. Lots of it and she said I can have a go at making kimchi. I don't think it is exactly the right Chinese cabbage (Napa is the recommended variety) but it will do for a try. The most boring and difficult bit is washing it. Les comes in (with home made squash soup) and he helps me get all the slugs off the cabbage. Slugs are my most detested creatures in the world. They make me shiver with disgust. I am reassured when Les points out that their presence indicates that the cabbage is clean and organic. After the washing and chopping the rest is fun, I mix together chopped scallions, chilli paste, grated ginger, soy sauce, diced garlic, fish sauce, salt and sugar. I go hard on the garlic and ginger and light on the salt. There isn't a mixing bowl in the house big enough to mix everything together so I use one of my wine making buckets. I thought it would all fit in to three Kilner jars but it only took two. According to the recipe it is edible in 24 hours but better again in a week.

I hear Bert downstairs now. He was out buying calves and I'll bet he is right into those Kilner jars. I'll have to  go down and stop him.

Katy's Rescue: A Story About A Man Who Kept His Head

I found this delightful book in Bellaghy's one and only charity shop. It was published in 1953 so is the same vintage as me. Martha adores it and I read it to her at least two times every day she is here. Both Martha and Evie love stories and love being read to. And I love to read to them. I also enjoy telling them stories that are not written down.

Madeline's Rescue features a dog, later named Genevieve, who kept her head and rescued Madeline when she fell in to the River Seine. I told the girls a true story about a man who kept his head when Aunt Katy fell in to the River Braid.

So girls... are you sitting comfortably? This is a true story that happened a long time ago when Mummy and Aunt Katy and Aunt Hannah were only girls. Hannah was the youngest, She was about the same age as you Martha. Katy was about 8 or 9 years old and your Mummy was 12 or 13. Bert had a yellow car that we called the Yellow Submarine and we'd often jump in to it and go somewhere nice for a walk. One of our favourite places to go was Currel's Avenue just outside Ballymena. We'd take Danny (he was our dog back then) and we'd walk beside the river. There was a swing there. It wasn't a proper swing like the one in the garden. It was just a piece of stick on a rope. You'd stand on the bank and get the stick between your legs and go swinging over the river. It was very exciting and a bit dangerous. Bert went first and he was very good at it. Then it was your Mummy and she was good at it too. Then it was Katy's turn. Katy was lighter than Bert and Zoe and she bounced around when she swung over the river. The next thing she bounced off and went splash! into the water. Down she went under the water! Then her head appeared. Down she went again! I could see Bert starting to kick his boots off and throw off his coat. Aunt Hannah, who was very young, started to scream and she ran off in a panic. I could see that Bert was going to get Katy out so I ran after Hannah who was racing away and not seeming to care where she ran or what she ran in to! She thought that her sister was going to die. I knew that Katy was going to be OK because Bert was keeping his head. By the time I caught Hannah and soothed her and brought her back Katy was safe. Zoe said that Danny the dog had jumped into the river too. He liked swimming and he thought that if everyone was going to be splashing about in the river he should too! Poor Katy was soaking wet so all of us shared out our clothes so she could go home in dry things. Bert just drove us home even though he was drenched. He didn't mind because he was very happy that he had kept his head and been a hero. When we got home Katy had a warm bath and Bert got dry clothes and a nice hot cup of tea and everyone was very happy.

Did you like that story?
Yes. Tell it again.

So I did.

Fairest Ivy Think Kit

Happy Birthday Katy! I wish I could give you a big hug today.

Dimming Of The Day

Bedlam Market

Where else but in Derry would you find an old convent clad in the country's biggest crocheted blanket? That would be Bedlam Market in Pump Street.

The market before its adornment

The glorious blanket that keeps the old convent warm and cosy

 The Last Man Standing

Just some of the delights to be found inside

Turner Prize 2013

I went to the Turner Prize 2013 exhibition in Derry today. I had quite a bit to do before I left which resulted in an inadequate breakfast. By the time I reached Ebrington Square I was very hungry. I don't know about you guys but I prefer to experience innovative art on a full stomach. Luckily there was a food cart in the square. I purchased a bacon and tomato wrap and a bottle of water. The delightful young woman who served me said, "Butter? Mayo?" and, in haste, I replied "Mayo." I vaguely wondered if it was a mistake but brushed the thought away, thinking,

Sure - it's only food.

I ate half the wrap and stashed the rest for later. Some of the mayo squirted on to my coat but luckily I noticed this and licked it off. I saw someone looking at me from a window and decided I did not care.

Into the exhibition. Could the gallery staff have been any friendlier, more helpful or more polite. No they could not! Derry people and people associated with Derry are, in my experience, a delight.

I went to each gallery in turn. David Shrigley's Life Model installation was the first. This has been much talked about. I liked it well enough but there wasn't enough going on. Not enough people participating and I didn't either.

Gallery 2 was Laure Prouvost's (the 2013 winner) installation. This was very engaging. After watching the video Wantee I went into the area to view Grandma's Dream. At first this was very playful then it darkened, The floor was on a carpeted slope although there was a seating platform. I did not dare sit down as my silly old knees would have prevented me from rising in a dignified manner. I left the room and spent some time viewing the objects and pictures. Then left. Then found myself very emotional and near to tears. I had to sit and compose myself for a while.

Gallery 3 - Lynette Yiadom-Boakye. Initially underwhelmed I felt, when I'd left, that I had not given this artist the time she deserved. I may have to come back to this one.

Gallery 4 - Tino Seghal. I was looking forward to this one and had a slight idea of what to expect. The gallery was white-walled and empty of visual stimulus. I was engaged in conversation by a member of gallery staff. She introduced the topic, the market economy. At first I was a bit lost for words and feeling self conscious about the gap in my teeth. I found myself looking at her teeth which were a bit misshapen but clean and white and real. I found my stride and we talked about give and take and bartering. I earned my pound coin but declined it.

After a bit of a wander I returned to Laure Prouvost's installation and while I was gazing at a teapot in a glass case I caught sight of my reflection. There on the left side of my mouth was a big splodge of mayonnaise. I quickly wiped it off realising that I'd been wandering around for two hours talking to gallery staff, seen by fellow visitors looking like a crazy woman with mayo on my face! No-one mentioned it so it can only stand to reason that everyone thought I was some class of a performance artist.

The Turner Prize 2013. I'd recommend it to anyone with an open mind and an imagination. Just wash your face before you go.

Cool For Cats

This is my most viewed photograph on Flickr. I cannot understand why. She isn't even nice. 

Do you know what I have asked Bert to buy me for Christmas? A new partial denture to replace the one that I think Ziggy (Hannah's pup) may have eaten. And do you know what is the saddest part? My dentist says it won't be ready until January. This means that I have to make my way through the holiday like a snaggle-toothed hillbilly. Ah well. I have decided to be philosophical about it for there are far, far worse things that having a gappy smile. What I really need is a new fridge, although Bert says I just need a new fridge door handle. We are heart scalded with pestilent thieving cats and dogs in Springhill. They can all open the fridge door. Even delicate little Holly (pictured above in her kittenhood) just lifts a dainty paw and pulls the door open. The dogs do it with their noses but the cats are the worst offenders. Bert shouted from the kitchen this afternoon,

Those bloody cats are in the fridge!

And they were. Actually in it. I felt like closing the door on them. But what would be the point? a little nudge with their heads and they'd be straight back out again.

The Bekvam Step Stool

It is possible to become jaded with Ikea. Even so, one of the best things I ever bought in my life I bought from Ikea and that is the Bekvam step stool. I could never become jaded with that.

I am a small person (5' 2") and small people need some assistance in accessing the higher cupboards in the home. I also have some even smaller people I like to spend time with and the Bekvam is very necessary to their lives too. Evie, ever possessive, will say "Where's my stool?" and when located she will drag it to whatever surface she needs to get to.

I love it that Evie is possessive. I love it that she owns Nellybert. Zoe told me she refers to us as 'My Granny' and 'My Bert'. I want to be owned by an adorable two-year-old.

So Jazzer and I went to Ikea today. I don't know what she spent but it all fitted in to her handbag. She said, "I don't think Ikea is as good as it used to be." It probably is. It's just that we've already bought all the truly good stuff like the Bekvam step stool. My own Bekvam is nothing like the ones with which  I have illustrated this post. Mine is grubby and extensively chewed by pups Judy and Jess.

I spent £45. I bought a new rug for the top of the stairs and some glasses. We ate there. I do not recommend the salmon and spinach thing. I'm sure I could make something far better with salmon, spinach and cheese.

So, I am slightly jaded with Ikea but I still love my step stool. I also love Ikea 100% cotton bed sets. Four pillow slips! Of course. Why doesn't every one do that? Their velour stuffed rats are delicious and no home should be without a Bekvam step stool.

I Discover Morrissey

I finished the Morrissey autobiography which I bought despite not being a Morrissey fan. Why did I buy it? Firstly, because it was was hugely reduced in Tescos and secondly because I opened it at random and read a scurrilous character assassination of a humble (fat) benefits adviser. I was immediately enthralled. Morrissey was in his teens when he encountered this unfortunate woman. I am very glad that I no longer carry the many humiliations that I experienced in my teens. Or do I still? Maybe that is what is wrong with me.

I could not put this book down. It fascinated me that one man could bear so many grudges, for so long and carry them with him all his days to add grist to his genius. Thankfully I never encountered Morrissey for it would be painful to read this book and find a sentence or two of barbed commentary had I inadvertently caused him offence. Curmudgeon he might be but from this account I found myself liking him a lot. Now I must get back to his music. Better late than never.

Supper and the Turner Prize

I decide to begin to like new things. With this in mind I cook fish pie for supper using Vietnamese river cobbler. I use smoked and unsmoked as it was on offer in Tescos. Previous to this sighting in Tescos I had never heard of river cobbler. I am aware that it is a disgrace bringing fish from Vietnam to Ballymena when we have a lake full of eels just a few miles away. Yet I never see eels in Tescos. I expect they are all going to Vietnam.

The fish pie was good. I cooked it in a cheese sauce with added chilli cheese and topped it with thinly sliced potatoes. I imagine it was very calorific. There was a side of plain broccoli which, for health reasons, I did not butter. For afters we had bread and butter pudding made with cream, eggs and butter, I went easy on the sugar. Bert made custard as he is the King of Custard. He tried to wriggle out of it but I was insistent.

(Had to take a break there to find out who won the 2013 Turner Prize)

All in all we had a very nice Monday evening tea and it was good to have the Misses Evie and Martha join us with their primary carers.

On Friday I think I will go to Derry to check out the Turner Prize exhibition.

There Is No Kimchi In Cullybackey

I notice that my old housemate Ganching set herself the task of blogging daily throughout the month of November. Inspired by her example I intend to blog daily throughout December. After all there should be plenty to blog about considering the stresses and strain of Christmas preparation, the extra gadding about I shall be doing thanks to my brand new SmartPass and the inspiration provided by Morrissey's autobiography. And so it shall begin.

On the 30th November I took my SmartPass on its first outing. Naturally I was concerned that the issuers might have sent me a pretend card just for a prank but it appears to be the genuine article. I got off the train at Botanic in order to distance myself from the LLP (Loyalist Peaceful Protesters) parade but hearing and seeing the police helicopter hovering got me all excited and I headed briskly for City Hall. I mingled with the crowd, took a few photographs, then retreated with some haste down a side street when a big parading lady in a pink scarf started giving me unpeaceful dirty looks. Apparently the parade was peacable enough at the start but trouble did break out later in the day.

But by that time I was browsing the second hand book shops on Botanic Avenue. It was time to eat so I headed for Cafe Arirang which is a fusion of Northern Ireland scones and sandwiches and Korean dishes. I had spicy noodle soup (delicious) and a side of kimchi. I've been dying to try kimchi for ages ever since my blogmate Hails fell in love with it while she was living and working in South Korea. I've got a recipe and some Chinese cabbage (thanks Zoe) and I'm going to try it myself.

So there you go. Day 1 of blogging every day straight to New Year's Eve. Wish me luck.