New Year's Day

 

It seems churlish not to post on the first day of a New Year even if I have nothing much to write about other than Covid19 and the intermittent internet coverage provided by a BT mini hub. My review? The mini hub is not all it's cracked up to be.

Coronavirus update - three more guests from our Boxing Day soiree have tested positive. One thing I never expected to be doing last year was hosting a superspreader event but *shrugs* hey-ho.

Sense of proportion time. Here in Springhill, our woes are very small compared to some and I intend to begin the New Year feeling gratitude for the love and companionship of friends and family.

Wishing a Happy New Year to all who visit Nelly's Garden.

New Year's Eve with the Coronavirus

 

So it turns out that my heavy cold and Bert’s raging man flu are actually Covid19.

I’ve been phoning around the folks that were at our Boxing Day supper. So far, just Jazzer has tested positive.

I am hoping to feel a bit better tomorrow.

Ten Things I Did on Mother's Day

 I woke up worrying about the Antarctic Ice Shelf, then decided that my fretting about it would not help.

Listened to the dawn chorus and estimated that there must be at least a thousand birds living nearby. Sounded like it anyway.

I thought about my own mother.

I sowed lots of vegetable seeds.

And entertained two adopted sons and a girlfriend. Received a Mother’s Day gift from Locky.

Participated in the naming of the most recent calf born on this farm. He is to be called Sparrow.

Spoke to my Katkin from Norfolk. She has had a bout of Covid. That’s all of my children have had it now.

Pondered my tendency to feel guilty about everything.

Did lots of knitting.

Did lots of weeding.

In A Funk

 Maybe because it's post-Christmas and the weather isn't right but I've been in a funk this past week. It was too mild over Christmas, the bloody wallflowers are in bloom and then we had snow.

 

And then it all melted away and it was mild again.

Yesterday I felt so grotty on waking that I took a rapid Covid test (my very first). It was negative which made me feel slightly better. If it's not Covid I'm worrying about it's something else. I have this weird pain at the side of my head. Of course, I imagine it to be the worst possible thing but it is probably because I keep clenching my jaw.

Tomorrow I am going to town to spend my book token and buy Bert some special ingredients for a black-eyed bean curry that he wants to try. I hope it lifts me out of this funk.

I will not buy wine. I will not buy wine. I will not...

Two Films and a Buck Idiot

Anything But Christmas

Funny how, when one is supposed to be preparing for the feast of the Nativity, that one will find so many other things to do. I thought I might go shopping for the last of the Christmas shopping today but I never went out the door - except to feed pigs and hens.

Instead of braving the shops I cleaned (a little) house and watched two films. The films were Four Hours at the Capital and The Power of the Dog. Both were intense. Better than Christmas.

I've just finished The Power of the Dog and it was an experience that I'm still processing.

Four Hours At The Capital

The documentary about the storming of the Capitol Building last January was a fierce watch too. One section that struck me was when people were evacuated from the  House of Representatives to their safe space there was phone footage of Marjorie Taylor Greene looking quite elated about the events that were taking place. I appear to have lost all the Trumpists who used to read my blog *so sad* so safe to say, Greene is a traitor to democracy.

Another thing that stood out was the person who helped the police officer Michael Fanone who was dragged into the mob, tasered and beaten. This man (and a few others) did what they could to get Fanone to safety. 

I suppose what I take out of it is that in that huge crowd there must have been many ordinary decent people, some who got swept up in the crazy excitement of the mob and a few, like the red-headed guy in the pic, who did the decent human thing. 

Watching the footage it was hard to believe that there weren't far more fatalities than had actually taken place although I hadn't realised that there were lives lost to suicide in the aftermath.

It was pointed out in the film that a considerable amount of people among the thousands in that crowd were believers of incredible and far-fetched conspiracy theories. 

But I've Done My Research

We all know them. Why only this evening one of Bert's acquaintances (one I usually avoid) was spouting nonsense about the dangers of Covid inoculations as it's a government plot to murder us. He hasn't been to a Chinese takeaway for two years because the Chinese are so very clever and have been developing diseases in their state-of-the-art labs for 1000 years. Scores of people in Limavady have already taken brain bleeds from the vaccine. He also came off with the shite that how come they can get a covid vaccination in a few months and they still haven't found a cure for cancer? Also, they give us cancer through the water supply.

Needless to say, I put him out of the house and told him not to come back until he's been double-vaxxed, boosted and wearing a mask. Don't expect to see him anytime soon. He'll be too busy getting his Ph.D. from the University of Facebook.

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. 

Tuesday Catch-Up

I had an unexpected day off from cooking for the family yesterday. The call came just as I was popping the meat and vegetables into the slow cooker. So we have a rather large Chilli-con-Carne to polish off this week. The reason for the cancellation was one of the children in my grandchild's school class had been in contact with a positive Covid-19 case which is rather unfortunate as the entire class has been sent home, not to return until they have each had a negative test result.

I also heard about four members of the same family, all strong evangelists, who are out at services all day Sunday singing and praising the Lord. No masks are necessary as God will protect them. All four were hospitalised, one is still in intensive care and one has died. 

*****

I'm slowly working my way through Modern Nature by Derek Jarman as I wanted to read about his garden. But it's about much more than the garden, describing his work, relationships and his illness. Jarman could be harsh about people he didn't like and I was struck with his comments on the journalist Julie Burchill who he described as 'ugly', 'po-faced', false and homophobic. I enjoyed Burchill when I was young but I'm not much of a fan these days. 

So I wondered what Ms Burchill had to say about Derek Jarman and, as always, the internet obliged.

Julie opined that visual artists just cannot write (making an exception for Tracy Emin). She herself, wouldn't dream of 'downing the typewriter' to make 'a daubing' and she goes on to sneer mightily at Jarman's literary output. Ah well. She is a critic after all and is absolutely entitled to her opinions. Maybe Jarman's writing is a tad on the clunky side and there is no doubt that Ms Burchill does have a flair with words but, guess what? I'd far rather read Jarman's honest words than anything by Burchill.

*****

1992

Gloriously warm and balmy day. We had visitors, very old friends and it was great to see them. There was much conversation about our young days and all the crazy gatherings we had and it seems that even though I despair of my memory I have better recall than anyone. 

1987

 

Sensible

The picture bears no relevance to what I am about to post. It is here because I like it. The post is about people I know. I've changed all their names.

Bert had a haircut today, his first in a very long time. The little trim I gave him a while back doesn't really count as he was still able to put his hair in a ponytail. He looked very sensible afterwards which makes sense as his hairdresser, a fan of long tresses in men, asked him if he was sure. He said he was. And how did he want it? And he said,

Good sensible oul boy hair.

We were chatting afterwards and he told me the hairdresser is an anti-vaxxer,

Why?

She said it hasn't been properly tested. She doesn't trust it.

What about Hubby?

He's against it too. As is their son. We do seem to know a lot of people who haven't had the jab.

Do we? I suppose there's Ford. He's a bit of a libertarian.

Stan and his lad are refuseniks.And Eric is dead against it.

Paul hasn't had it but then he can't organise anything for himself. Even when his ma arranges appointments for him, he forgets or sleeps in.

Young Lothario says he doesn't trust it but I think it's because he's afraid to go out of the house.

And Robby says they are injecting tracking devices into us. 

The Super Marios aren't having it. Giovanni has done his research, says it's dangerous.

His arse! Thirty minutes on his smartphone is all the research he'll have carried out!

So, how many is that? 

About twelve. What are the stats on unvaccinated adults in Northern Ireland?

Slightly over sixty per cent fully vaccinated. Lower than the rest of the UK.

So, if that lot represent forty percent of all the people we know then we only know thirty people. Looks like our friends and acquaintances are mostly sensible folks.

Did anyone notice that all but one of the aforementioned doubtful are male?

Niggles and Twinges

One of my sisters was of the opinion that our late mother, famously hypochondriac, experienced most of her mental angst through her body. I fear this is becoming true for me too. For instance, I have had a recurring pain, more of a niggle really, on the left side of my head. This will be a brain tumour. A twinge in my left nipple, this must be cancer. Only this afternoon I found myself very weary and went for a lie-down. I had an ache in my upper left arm. I felt my pulse and it was racing which must be a sign of a heart attack. I counted the beats of my heart in 60 seconds. Seventy bpm. Googled this and found it to be normal.

All this hypochomdria distresses me. It's not the fear of a terminal illness but the dampening of pleasure in everyday living.  And I know what is causing it. Too much time on my hands and stress about Covid, lockdown and the return of unrest (riots) to our towns and cities. I almost miss Trump as the focus of my anxieties. This is all getting a bit too close to home.

Well, perhaps they'll cool their heels tonight. Out of respect for their Queen's bereavement.

In the meantime, I have birds to watch.

And these two to cheer me up.

The Last Aunt

 

Lizzie 1930-2021

So that's it. Bert's last Aunt has gone and now he's the only only one still standing from that branch of the family tree. An era ended. No-one comes after him.

Lizzie loved dogs and dogs loved her. It was when she asked Bert a few months ago not to bring our two when he visited that he knew things weren't right with her. She had an underlying condition, and who hasn't at 90? But it was Covid-19 took her in the end.

In Case You Were Wondering

 

Bert's Aunt is holding her own. The news comes third hand as no-one is allowed to visit. What happens next is out of our hands. 

I panicked and ordered Covid testing kits for Bert and me. We both tested negative.

Booking for the vaccination opened today for people in my age group. I secured an appointment for Sunday. The second jab is to be in April. After which I might be able to visit my darlings in Norfolk. Maybe. Fingers crossed.

The snowdrops are out and I am hopeful for longer days and milder weather.

Lizzie and me at Craig's Moss. I'm probably half the age I am today and Lizzie would be in her early sixties. We're all ready for a day of bagging turf. 

Doing Christmas

I didn't make such a great fist of Christmas this year, no Christmas cake, no tree, no fairy lights, no three desserts. No shops.

The no shops shopping was the good part. I did Christmas present shopping online and it was OK except for around five of my gifts not arriving on time. And that was despite being ordered weeks in advance. It's a hard thing to admit but Amazon, no matter how wrong the company seems, is at least reliable. Note to self - more forward planning for 2021.

When it came down to it I missed not having a tree. 

Bert volunteered to be with his elderly Aunt on Christmas Day so I spent a good part of that day on my own. There was a family Zoom call planned for the morning which featured Martha and Evie, James and Emily showing us all their presents. I missed half of it due to connection problems and lack of forward planning and had a jolly good cry about it. Then of course, I had to cry about how sad Christmas is when we think of all the people (and dogs) that aren't with us any more then had to give myself a shake remembering that I have family members missing a child who, had she lived, would still be young enough to believe in Father Christmas. 

Boxing Day was better. Lockdown began but we did have Martha and Evie and their parents around. More Christmas food and then a round of Blind Man's Buff, Chinese Whispers and Charades. Is it just me, or are  Blind Man's Buff and Chinese Whispers maybe not terribly PC? If not, I've yet to receive the memo and anyway now that we are (apparently) no longer sophisticated Europeans these things don't matter. Who knows. Anyway - it was great fun and we laughed a lot which was heartening.

Bert spent today with Aunt Lizzie, I footered about doing little bits and pieces which included graping silage to cattle, a first for me. It is great to still be having new experiences in one's late sixties. I also watched the first episode of Bridgerton and cracked open a bottle of Malbec while it was still light outside.

Next year (if I'm spared) I'm Really Doing Christmas, fruit cake, plastic Santas, tinsel and everything. 

Quiet Saturday

 Crocus in the garden, with monkey puzzle in the background

I was awakened by the dogs at ten past six, then waited until seven before going to get my Saturday Guardian. I buy it once a week at my local garage, and the rest of the week I read it online. There were more people around than usual, one man doing a fairly big shop. I filled a basket too, milk, 4-pack of toilet roll, bleach, cheese, chocolate. Life's neccessities. I sidestepped the other customers as much as I could and kept a very decent distance from Hans.

The tightening of restrictions in the sensible part of Ireland was mentioned and it was said that it might be time for a proper lockdown here too. There are a lot of people who are flouting the advice/rules, whatever it is.

Bert has been ever so slightly getting on my nerves these past few days and I'm sure I've been getting on his. But I had a thought, this...

If I have to be closed up at home with one other human being, Bert is a good one. He is patient, kind, funny and so what if he doesn't put the milk back in the fridge or the lid on the tea caddy? To show my gratitude I baked him a cake and didn't use a recipe. I put apricot jam in it and plain yogurt and it was lovely.

 A patch of wood anemone in Bert's wood

The first few days of staying at home were unsettling. I spent far too much time online, scrolling through news sites, coronavirus updating and Twitter. I exhausted myself so much that I could barely read for pleasure. These past few days I've been spending less time online and more time gardening, walking and reading. And weird tasks like degunking the shower outlet.

And I've pulled a chair over to the window in my bedroom and sometimes I sit there, reading, or just watching the chickens. It's very peaceful especially as there are far fewer vehicles on our road.

Bert has just called me to watch the final episode of  This Country. Stay safe everyone.