Did And Didn't

 My sister regularly blogs Ten Things I Did Today. So here's my take.

Three Things I Didn't Do Today

Whilst donating at the Charis charity shop in Magherafelt I didn't buy a thing even though there were some plates I fancied. I already own plates - lots of them.

Whilst passing Ditty's world-famous home bakery we didn't stop and buy delicious sausage rolls and traybakes. for I wasn't hungry, and neither was Bert. We had porridge, prunes and Greek yoghurt for breakfast.

I still haven't opened my recent delivery from Naked Wines. I intend to wait until Friday for that. Or perhaps Thursday.

Some Things I Did Do

Watched the latest puppy video from Laura about a dozen times. 

Also watched the third episode of the cop show set in Belfast.

I cannot share the video but it featured the pup's father outside playing with his babies. He is barely a year old himself (it wasn't a planned pregnancy) and he enjoys having nine new playmates. That's Jet in the picture surrounded by some of his offspring. Our pup, Cleo, is the fat one with the turquoise collar.

How Fred Came To Live With Us....14 years ago

  

Holly Is Not A Happy Cat...

...but Bonnie is pleased with her new kitten.

Sharing the scoff

On Friday I was walking on the Ballymena-Doagh road when I heard a tinkling and a squeaking. I looked around and there was a little ginger kitten following me. The tinkling was coming from a little bell on its collar. There were no houses nearby, and I could not understand why such a young cat was out on the road. There had been a woman driver behaving oddly about five minutes before I encountered the kitten. She had gone to pull in, spotted me and drove on. I looked behind me and she'd pulled to the side again. I thought she might have noticed a flat tyre and wondered if I should offer to help but she drove off again. Did she dump that kitten? I think she did. I couldn't leave it - the road was far too busy and dangerous. Maybe it was someone's lost pet but little cats do not tend to stray far from home and this one was at least a quarter of a mile from the nearest house. Nevermind. He lives here now and Holly de Cat is not best pleased. But Bonnie is delighted with her new kitten.

Resting up a spell

Fred and Some Other Animals

This photograph has been processed and I like it. I like the brightness, the clashing prints and  Big Fat Fred plonked right in the middle of it. Fred has always been fond of textiles. They're so comfy.

Right now I've got a lot on. I'm knitting, I'm reading and I'm cleaning my bookshelves. I'm head and ears in the family tree, checking out DNA matches and wondering how I'm connected to all these people.

There were a lot of seamen and soldiers in the family at the turn of the last century and I think that some of them must have been misbehaving in foreign lands. 

I also discovered that we appear to be related to half the Catholics in Larne. Which is at least twenty people. Our common ancestor was a Campbell originating from the Isle of Lewis or so I surmise. There is a lot of surmising going on when it comes to family trees.

Look again at that picture. Did you spot the black duck?

Cleo

 

Evie said she'd never held such a young dog before. She is cuddling Rosa. Martha has Belle, mostly black and almost invisible. Bert has his pick, our pup, on his lap. 

HER NAME IS CLEO!

Then mother dog Tilly joined the company. 

A Bit Of A Setback

 Don't panic! It's only my knitting project.

This is where I was on Sunday. It was reasonable to hope that I could complete it before next weekend.

And this is where I am tonight. I went wrong. I probably could have fixed it if I had the patience but instead said 'fuckit' and ripped it back. I will reassemble and knit on tomorrow.

But what cheered me up was this picture that Declan sent.

Our girl is the one in the turquoise collar. We humans are very excited to welcome her sometime after Easter. 

Then Laura sent this picture. 

Bert still hasn't chosen her name. We expect an announcement on Thursday.

Knitting Update

Swisser's jumper is beginning to take shape. As always, the knitting journey has its ups and downs. The beginning is fun, colours are to be decided, and expectations are high.

Then the doubts creep in. Was it a mistake to have those two lime greens so close together? Never mind. It's yet another experiment - keep going. At this stage, it wasn't even Swisser's jumper. She was just the person I had in mind.

I spent an evening knitting the sleeve on the right but even Bert could see that it was too wide. I started again with the sleeve on the left, with far fewer stitches to begin with (48) and a graduated increase to 72 stitches. 

Swisser called, I showed her my progress and asked her if she liked it. She did! I said,

That's good because I'm knitting it for you.

I posted a small jumper to Kerry this morning but seem to have overlooked taking a photograph. Hopefully, it will arrive and the child won't be too big for it and perhaps if it fits him I might get a picture of him modelling it - hint, hint.  Anyway, in the absence of a picture of my great-nephew's handknit here is a picture of his mother wearing one of my earlier creations. 

I didn't knit her Dad's jumper although it is very fine. And looking at this photo I am reminded that I promised him a stripey hat more than a year ago.

Anyway, back to Swisser's jumper. I must get it finished soon as she will be needing it for that unheated cottage she's buying in Leitrim.

Snow Day

I woke up to several inches of snow this morning, and it all looked rather fine. My pictures were taken just before 7am as that is the time our cats, Pippin and Fred think I should arise from my cosy bed and feed them. 

I don't mind as it gives the slack-bladdered dogs an opportunity to take a morning pee. Any later and they'll go in the bathroom. And that would be the bathroom floor. 

It's wonderful what a good fall of snow does to take the rough look of the yard and garden.

The third and fourth things I do of a morning is have a coffee and a catch up on the news. This morning I read that a lot of schools had closed down. There was a list. Martha and Evie's schools were not on the list. I felt sad for them. 

Then off back to bed with my coffee and a read of these three books. I love snow days.

Bert Chooses A Puppy

 

Since we've been together Bert and I have had nine dogs , of which six were strays or rescue dogs, one inherited from an elderly uncle and two (our current pair) that came as puppies from unplanned litters.

Apart from Roy, who belonged to Bert's Uncle Paddy and Bonnie who was christened by Pearlie (I liked her choice) all of our dogs were named by me. Surely it is time to give Bert a go?

So, when we decided we'd have one of  Tilly's accidental litter (9 puppies!) I thought Bert should choose and name it. Today he did the choosing bit, tomorrow she is to be named and in seven weeks or so we will bring her home.

I thought Bert would be indecisive but when the little brown girl was in his arms it seems he fell in love.

I said,

Do you want to look at some of the others?

He looked at the one in his lap and said,

But I like this one.

He didn't say but looked as if he might be thinking,

Don't take her away from me!

Swisser chose a pup too.

Ink On Her Hands - Revisited

 This is a post from four years ago.

Ink On Her Hands

Some Thursdays Miss Evie alights from the school bus in something of a rage. Yesterday was one of these days. I understand this for the trials of Year 3 must be difficult for a young person. She was crying frustrated tears, I went to take her little paw but she pulled it away. Why? She had ink on her hands. And she had - the sort of thick and sticky ink contained in cheap ballpoint pens.

So we had to go to the bus station toilets. There were quite a few people waiting on the seats for it was a cold and windy day. I looked meaningfully at a young man with a holdall on the seat beside him. He removed it and I sat down because I knew it might be a long time before Evie and Martha would emerge. There was some light conversation with the other people waiting while behind the toilet door I could hear Evie’s frustrated sobs and Martha attempting to soothe her. Then the outside door opened and a tall young man burst in shouting.

You have to help me! You have to help me!

We all looked at him with interest. I don’t know what the other people thought but my guess was a medical emergency and that the bus station staff would take care of it. First aid, ambulances, that sort of thing. Probably happens all the time at bus stations.

He went on,

My girlfriend was on the train but she couldn’t open the door! And now she’s gone and she’s a foreigner and she won’t know what to do!

The person behind the desk explained to the young man that she couldn’t do anything as it was a matter for the railway staff and he’d have to ask them to help. But the next stop was Cullybackey and his friend could always get off there.

The young man was sobbing and distraught. He left the waiting room and another young fellow got up to see if he could help him which I thought very kind of him. But he was back in soon after as there was nothing to be done.

Meanwhile, Martha opens the door and says,

Granny, we need your help.

I went in. Evie still had ink on her hands and it wasn’t shifting. I told her not to worry as I had special stuff at home that would take it off and that mollified her. We left the waiting area.

The young man who had lost his girlfriend was outside, still distraught. It occurred to me that I was going to Cullybackey and that, teens of years ago, I’d have involved myself in his drama and ended up regretting it. But I didn’t because, for all I know, his girlfriend (if she even was his girlfriend) might have looked out to the platform, saw him, and thought to herself,

I’m not too sure about this one. I’m not getting off this train!

And we had our own drama to contend with. The ink on Evie’s hands.

When we got home I mixed sugar and cooking oil into a paste and Evie rubbed it into her hands and most of the ink disappeared. I told her the rest would wear off and that the sugar and oil paste was a trick I learned from her Great-Grandmother Martha. She was OK after that.

Rock Cakes

Slams, clatters and rattles are coming from the kitchen. I go in to find Bert is out with the kitchen scales, the self-raising flour and his go-to baking book, Mary Berry's Favourite Recipes, published in 1988. 

I ask,

What are you making? 

Rock cakes.

Ugh!

What's wrong with rock cakes?

Stodgy and boring.

Don't have any then.

Since Bert stopped smoking he cannot stop eating and if there is nothing 'nice' in the house he will make something. 

He goes to the fridge and doesn't find what he's looking for.

There's no margarine! Mary Berry says margarine. Can I use butter instead?

No. If the recipe says margarine then margarine it must be.

His face falls. I relent.

Of course, you could use butter. That book is ancient. I'll bet Mary Berry never uses margarine now. Nobody does.

He relaxes.

The recipe also called for demerara sugar and there isn't enough. He uses soft brown to make it up. Mixed fruit. He takes sultanas, seedless raisins and chopped cherries and mixes them together. In very short order the rock cakes are in the oven. He's covered in flour and he doesn't wash up.

Never mind. I pour two glasses of wine and we go to watch Unforgotten.

Luckily the rock cakes were Unforgotten. Out of the oven in time and they weren't the least bit stodgy or boring. They were yum.