The Oldest Blogger

This blog, Nelly’s Garden is twenty years old today. Back when I started I believed I was the Oldest Blogger in the village and maybe I was. Two decades later I’m certain sure I’m the oldest blogger in Cully and maybe even the only one – for blogging is not what it used to be.

So, how did I spend my blog's big day? Quietly. My only outing was to the pharmacy to collect my meds. The rest of the day I spent tootling around the house and garden. There was one big excitement – a blue butterfly on the borage.

This year has been terrible for butterflies and moths. Usually, in August, we see lots of Red Admirals, Small Tortoiseshells and Peacocks. The month is nearly gone and I haven’t spotted one of those. A few whites and browns but that was that. So the blue one caused quite a stir. I’ve never seen one in our garden before. It was difficult to get a good photo ID as it flew quickly and kept its wings folded when it fed. But it was lovely in flight, almost as if some of the borage petals had taken wing.

I'm not sure which of the blues this is. I think maybe Holly Blue?

Other pictures taken after I got tired of chasing my solitary butterfly visitor.

New Zealand flax grown by me from seed collected in Fanad, Donegal. It might be a pest in the Antipodes but to me it is exotic. Sadly no starlings but they will come.

My new wine-coloured hydrangea. I bought it from Ben Vista and it cost me the price of a couple of decent bottles of wine (or three from Tescos). I treated myself to it as I'm currently taking a break from alcohol. 

And that concludes Nelly's twentieth birthday post.

Thanks for reading!

One From Eighteen Years Ago

 

Hunting The Rhubarb

Yesterday was Kerry Sister's mumbly-mumbleth birthday. As her birthday was almost totally forgotten last year we decided to mark the occasion with a Rhubarb Hunt. I told them I'd found rhubarb growing in the moss but no one believed me. So I led an expedition to prove that I was right.

The Kerry Sister and the Leitrim Sister on the hunt for The Rhubarb. The Kerry Sister is kicking spoor for clues. The Leitrim Sister prefers to sniff the air for that elusive Rhubarb scent.

The Rhubarb has been spotted! Leitrim Sister says it is a lot of bollocks and that it is False Rhubarb.

The Rhubarb

Bert is horticulturally highly qualified and he thinks it is Rhubarb. It looks like, smells like, tastes like, and smokes like Rhubarb.

Macy prefers to wallow in a moss hole.

The Mystery Solved

Rhubarb growing in Drumkeeran Moss remained a puzzle until, six years later, I met Bobby.

Bobby was Lord O'Neill's man on the ground, the mossy ground, to be precise. The day I met him he was admiring a patch of narcissi that he'd planted the previous autumn. He told me that his wife was throwing the bulbs out so he thought he'd plant them in the moss to see how they'd do. Now, as far as I know, he just got the one year out of them as I never saw them again. I did ask him If he'd ever tried rhubarb and he said he had but it hadn't made much of a plant. The mystery solved!

Teach Your Grandma

 How do I know that my two oldest grandchildren are growing up fast?

1. They have to bend down to give me a goodbye hug.

2. The younger one showed me a far better way to put a fresh duvet cover on.

3. They are house-sitting for Nellybert on Saturday night while we are visiting Doctor Dede and Dmitri in Leitrim.

Re number 3. I might have slight reservations about this, as I had dreamed this morning that an acquaintance of ours had brought Gary Glitter to visit us. In this dream, I was very pleasant to the predator until it dawned on me who he was. Then I was horrified for two reasons. The first was that my siblings (especially Gan) would be disgusted with me; the second was that my older granddaughter was upstairs. I ran to warn her then I came to my senses and ordered the fiend and my now ex-acquaintance out of the house never to darken my door again.

I learned something from this dream  This acquaintance cannot be trusted. I may ban him anyway. It's what my subconscious wants me to do.

One more thing -  no need to worry about the young ones house-sitting on Saturday night as there will be a fierce Aunt and an even fiercer dog on-site at all times.

Fierce dog. Remember, appearances can be deceptive.

Upcoming Anniversaries

On the 16th August, Bert and I will have been legally married for 16 years. 

I wrote this post the week before our big day.

The fellows on the site are threatening to give me a 'doing' tomorrow. For those who might not know a 'doing' is a form of ritual humiliation visited upon a person who is about to embrace the matrimonial state. It can involve flour, water, balloons, bondage and a host of other embarrassments.

Obviously, I've informed them that under no circumstances need they dare come near me. After all, I am old enough to be their mother and it would be most undignified. I have cited Health & Safety regulations, the wrongness of wasting their employer's time and the promise that if one of them lays as much as a finger on me I'll be bringing charges of sexual harassment and assault.

I think they've got the message.

On the 27th of August this blog, Nelly's Garden will be twenty years old.

This was my first post.

I've been threatening to do this for some time now so while speaking to daughter one on the phone tonight I said "Tell me daughter, what shall I do?" She said "Go to Blogger." So I did and several moments later here I am writing my first post.

So shall I introduce myself? I am old enough to have three daughters all left home. I live in the country. I like flowers & dogs (among other things) I work in the 'caring professions' and I spend far too much time on computers.

Blogs are a recent thing with me. Daughter one has been doing it for a year and I've been pondering it for 6 months. Where it will take me I know not.

Then, on an unspecified date near the end of this month, the First Daughter celebrate her half-century. And it only seems like a week or two since she was 40. Where does time go??

There were no blogs back in 1974. No mobile phones, no laptops or internet. I may have written something in a diary. I don't believe she even had her photograph taken until quite a few days later. 

As you can see, I was very pleased with her.

And I still am.

Belfast

I have been getting out and about recently and have used my rail card three times in nine days. 

My first outing was to Portrush with Bert, Hannah and the girls. That would be the annual trip to Barry's Amusements, which is now known as Curry's Amusements. As Martha and Evie are now taller than everyone except Bert they no longer go on the tamer rides. Instead, it is all the scary ones like The Beast and The Waltzer. They may have gone on The Beast five times. 

Of course, Bert and I refused to go on anything as we don't like having our bones shaken about. Instead, we strolled around Portrush like the oldsters we are and looked after the incredibly well-behaved Chico for Hannah. It was, while doing this, that we decided that it was time to lead-train Cleo so that she too could enjoy excursions to the Port. She is, after all, more than 15 months old.

The girls and Chico

My second train journey was a jaunt to Belfast with Vee. We went to the Botanic Gardens to visit the Palm House, the Tropical Ravine, the Medicine Garden and the Museum. It was an enjoyable outing, especially as Vee had never been there before. My favourite parts were the Medicinal Garden (which is new) and the Carravaggios, which are currently on display at the Museum.

Then today, Bert and I took the train to Belfast to visit Smithfield and St George's Market. I knew there was to be an anti-immigration (racist and anti-Islam) protest but did not really expect it to amount to much. But on our way back from Smithfield we found ourselves amid the protest. There were protestors flying  British, Irish and Israeli flags at the top of Royal Avenue. There didn't seem like that many people and most of them seemed to be onlookers. There was a long line of PSNI land-rovers parked bumper to bumper across the road, each with at least one officer in riot gear standing beside them. On the far side of the police vehicles were the counter-protestors. We went to that side.  Both sides were chanting at the other with the counter-protestors making the most noise. There were more of them. Yet, they seemed less threatening. Maybe that was because I agreed with their stance.  

After all that we headed in the direction of St George's Market. I re-upped my Cordyceps Tincture at Spore Shore and we had a coffee and a delicious (shared) brownie. We were joined at our table by a lovely woman who asked us what was happening in town. She was waiting for her daughter to collect her and was concerned that there would be disruptions. We chatted. Our companion was an artist, of Armenian descent and had been born in Haifa. Her family had suffered turmoil both in Israel and Cyprus. I wish we could have spoken to her longer but there was a train to catch. I could not help but think that if the Irish people who are so nationalistic and anti-immigration had any idea how lucky they are to live here at this time of relative stability we might have more compassion for those who have had to uproot their lives and go elsewhere.

Back home I heard that things had turned ugly in Belfast when the anti-immigration crowd headed to South Belfast to protest outside the Belfast Islamic Centre. On the way a Turkish Cafe was attacked, windows broken, outdoor furniture smashed to pieces. Vee and I had walked past both places on Wednesday. I was telling her how much I loved the diversity of the area never dreaming that a couple of days later both places would be attacked. At the time of writing I don't know what will have happened other than that the mosque is under police protection.

Anyone who visits this house in the coming weeks had better not utter one word of support for the racists or they might find the welcome mat pulled from right under their expensive trainers.  

The Twelve, August 2024

 

Five books were completed in July.

Remote Sympathy by Catherine Chidgey

This was incredibly good,  and I'd recommend it. I passed it to Bert after I'd read it.

How They Broke Britain by James O'Brien

If you know James, you know James. He was hard on  Jeremy Corbyn who must have found himself in unholy company.

Animal Dreams by Barbara Kingsolver

I enjoyed this less than other books by Kingsolver.  The heroine was more than slightly annoying. Still, I did learn a lot about Mojave culture.

The Story of Lucy Gault by William Trevor

Lucy Gault reminded me, a little, of Elsie Dinsmore with her scrupulousity and pig-headedness. Thankfully William Trevor is a much better writer than Elsie's creator, so I enjoyed Lucy's story very much. Passed it to Hannah.

10 Minutes 38 Seconds In This Strange World by Elif Shafak

At first, I wondered if I could get into a novel that introduced its main character, a prostitute dumped in a trash can, after she had been murdered. It might have been brutal but it was marvellous. It's my first book by Shafak but it won't be the last. Passed on to Hannah.

Incidentally, it was the cover of 10 Minutes that first appealed. Which just goes to show that covers do matter.If it is done right even the blurb can be part of the design.

Books added to The Twelve. 

Let The Great World Spin by Colum McCann

The Secret Scripture by Sebastian Barry

The Great Fire by Shirley Hazzard

The Emigrants By W.G. Sebald

The Colony by Audrey Magee

Of these, I expect to enjoy McCann, am already irritated by some of the characters in The Colony which may well be the point.