Family Time

 Last week, Katy and her family came over from Norfolk for a short Easter break. was lovely to see them, even though the weather wasn’t great—wet and cold for the most part.

Still, we all managed to enjoy ourselves.

Unlike in previous years, I didn’t stock the freezer in advance. Instead, I kept things simple and cooked meals from scratch—which, in the end, turned out to be less of a faff.

This time they didn’t bother with a car so I drove them where they needed to go. The young ones were just as happy knocking around here as they would have been getting out and about.

Thursday was the only day with halfway decent weather, so they took the train to Belfast for a visit to the Ulster Museum in Botanic Gardens. James, however, couldn’t quite settle at either the gardens or the museum, so the outing ended up being a brief half-day trip. Still, he thoroughly enjoyed the train journey and even managed to inform his parents about the type of rolling stock they were travelling on. They were surprised to learn that, unlike the rest of the UK—England, Scotland, and Wales - Northern Ireland does not use standard gauge railway tracks. Instead, it operates on the wider Irish gauge, in line with the rest of the island. James does know a lot about trains.

Evie, James, Emily, and I managed to squeeze in a quick jaunt to Portglenone Forest. Unfortunately, we were without Martha’s company, as she was at home revising for her upcoming GCSEs. James, in a moment of curiosity, decided to test the depth of a puddle by stepping straight into it—and promptly got a very wet foot. I suggested that next time, he might consider using a stick.

Friday was the best day of all. I had the pleasure of spending most of it with all my daughters and all four grandchildren. The younger ones threw themselves into an art project, their main focus being the design and painting of a stone for Ziggy’s grave. When that was completed, the house erupted into a raucous game of hide and seek, with Zoe and Hannah joining in as well. It was loud, chaotic, and full of laughter. The best hiding spots were claimed by Evie, who disappeared into a cluttered corner of the attic, and Emily, who managed to curl up inside a storage box. Being small certainly offers advantages in a game like that - but Evie, despite her height, managed to baffle everyone for quite some time.

And that was our last night. Everyone (except Bert of course) was up really early the next day and off to the airport for eight o’clock. I was sad to see them all leave but glad that we’d had the time together. The house was so quiet when I got home but that was good too.

Until the next time! 

Goodbye To Fred

 

Fred died today after a short illness. He was just over fifteen years old.

After we said goodbye to Fred, Bert said,

It's been a tough year for ginger boys.

Missed

This wee man has been on my mind all day. It is two weeks today since he left us and the place just isn't the same without him. 

The world without Ziggy is taking some getting used to.

A World Without Ziggy

 27th August- 8th September 2023

We had a wedding, a big family get-together, a funeral, two birthdays and then - Ziggy died.

He'd been diagnosed with heart failure one month previously. Tests showed his heart to be massively enlarged. He rallied with his initial treatment but it didn't last. He wasn't in pain but he was stressed and uncomfortable and things weren't going to get any better. Hannah made the decision that it would be unkind to try and prolong his life. 

Ziggy was a smashing wee dog, so full of character. He had many friends. But Hannah was his number one, and he was hers. We will all miss that little fellow, the Zigster, Zigatron, Wiggler, the best boy there ever was. 

Bit Of A Catch Up

 

On Wednesday Bert and I took Ziggy to the vet for his X-ray and scan. First, the vet (one of my faves as she is so straightforward) gave him a check-up. The medicine was working well and his lungs were clear. I said goodbye and left him for his tests. Back to the vet at 2pm. I saw the X-ray. Poor Ziggy's heart is very enlarged, leaving little room for the rest of his organs. Still, the vet said the meds would keep him comfortable and give him a better-quality life so well worth it. The wee fellow was glad to get home.

Thursday was Martha and  Evie Day and we had three friends around. They are five busy girls, what with school, orchestra, football, drama, Irish dancing and camogie and it was the first time in an age they were all together. Four of them are now considerably taller than me. Only Maria is smaller but she isn't even in double figures yet so it can only be a matter of time. The girls spent all day outside, made a swing, broke a swing, made another swing, communed with the kune kunes and involved themselves in a whole other of other outdoor activities their mother and granny knew nothing about.

2023

2018

Friday, Martha and Evie were still with us. We had quiet day, the only momentous event being Cleo getting hold of Martha's retainer and rendering it unusable. Martha was most upset but fortunately, she had a spare. The damage Cleo has wreaked since coming to live with us must by now be edging close to about five hundred pounds worth.

Saturday and Sunday involved some extra cleaning in preparation for visitors, both Antipodean and Wedding. Some gardening was also involved. Much Lucifer was banished to the hot place also known as the compost heap. There is a reason this gorgeous perennial is rarely to be found in garden centres. Anyone who has it will always be palming it off on fellow gardeners. I've got to the stage where I cannot get anyone to take it.

My New Zealand cousin thought Lucifer was lovely but she flinched at the sight of my agapanthus. Apparently, it is a noxious weed where she comes from.  And it wasn't the only noxious weed she spotted but the less said about that the better.

For those that wonder what the top picture in this post has got to do with anything the answer is - lots. For I heard a really good story today which featured a donkey that ate all the flowers in a granny's garden. And the wee blond lad holding the donkey's halter will be visiting from Vancouver this coming week and I'm really looking forward to seeing him. 

The Joy of Tidying

 

Obviously the first thing to do when embarking on a tidying spree is to sort one's books in alphabetical order. That sparks joy.

Everything else is pure drear.

It has been a busy week with little time for tidying. There was a friend's party on Saturday evening at which I did not drink alcohol and had a great time. A practice run for Neesh's wedding. On Monday Bert and I borrowed Clint's trailer and went to the Council Recycling Centre where we dumped the clothes dryer and some other items. I suppose that could be considered tidying.  Tuesday, I took the girls for breakfast and took some stuff to a charity shop (more tidying). We went to Tim Hortons - my first (and last) visit. 

On Wednesday we bought a gigantic television set and then visited some old friends we hadn't seen for ages.

Thursday was a tough day. Ziggy hadn't been well the previous night and Han asked us to take him to the vet. She couldn't do it herself as she had work commitments. The vet spent some time listening to his chest and when she had finished she told us that his heart was failing. Blood tests were taken and he received two intravenous injections. He was booked in for further tests. We were told to bring him back the next day if he wasn't any better which worried me. It was hard having to tell Han when she phoned to ask how he'd got on.

We had the girls on Thursday but didn't see that much of them apart from at feeding time. They amuse themselves these days, playing with Cleo, drawing, loading apps on Bert's phone and watching Netflix on my laptop. Bert set the new TV up which kept him occupied. I worried about Ziggy, who, as the afternoon wore on seemed to improve a little, chest not thumping as much, coughing less. He fell asleep on my sofa but the minute Hannah's car came up the lane he sat bolt upright. 

Today we had a friend come around to help us clear an overgrown part of the yard. He is a big mate of Ziggy who was pleased to see him. There was lots of tail wagging and after they'd said hello to each other we left Ziggy to rest. But no, Ziggy wanted to hang out and that's what he did. The injections and the meds he has started seemed to have alleviated the worst of his symptoms. 

And the wild place got cleared (more tidying) with the promise of further clearing to come and Les and Mrs Les called round to collect a forgotten saxophone. How does anyone forget a saxophone? And Teeny Bird and her two lovely children and Uncle Ben and two welders and Howard (bearing home-grown strawberries, cucumbers and tomatoes) all called to visit and then Locky phoned to ask how Ziggy was, so a very full day indeed. 

And after everyone had gone and we had dinner we watched the Chris Packham programme on our giant TV then Naked Attraction. I'm not sure which was more harrowing.  

Cleo's First Trip to the Seaside

 

On Thursday, Hannah and Evie, myself and Ziggy took Cleo to see the sea for the first time in her life.

She was perturbed at first by the waves rolling in but it didn't take her long to realise that they weren't going to harm her.

Soon she was running to meet them and to seek out sticks.

There was a tough minute or two when a big dog chased her (no photos). She ran away, yelping, tail between her legs and was tumbled into the sea by the big dog. It was very big, I think a Newfie. He was a pup too, only playing but Cleo didn't know that. 

Another bit of fun in the waves and she'd forgotten all about it.

We went to Waterfoot Beach which is a lovely place - a good long beach, not too many people and a boarded walk through the dunes with lots of wildflowers and butterflies. We spotted a small copper but it was too fast for my camera.

On the way back we stopped in Carnlough for snacks. I left Ziggy and Cleo in the car for around five minutes. When I got back there was a French tourist standing by the car and Cleo trying to make her escape from the boot. He said, 

Is open. It trying to escape.

I thanked him for kindly looking out for her. A good day.

Check this out.

https://www.instagram.com/p/CviBwadO-v4/

Doggy Day Care

 

Lulu - 7 night stay, full board. Fee - one bottle of Dingle gin.

Nellybert has been doing Doggy Day Care for the last few days. Lulu (above) is still with us and settling into a nice routine. Up bright and early, toilette, breakfast. Back to bed with Bert for two-hour lie-in. Up again around 10, breakfast again, run around yard, follow Nelly everywhere, light lunch, run around yard, hang out with Ziggy, schmooze with every caller, run around yard, stand in front of every vehicle that enters or leaves yard, including farm vehicles, and the bigger the better. Supper, rat patrol, put hens in, bark for 30 minutes, beat Nellybert into submission, sit on laps for an hour or more, evening pee, rat patrol, treat, bed with Nelly, under quilt, of course. Nighty-night. Big sleep, wake up and repeat.

Rex - 2 night stay, full board. Fee - one very good Prosecco which I did not share with Bert.

Rex is back with Swisser. His stay was a short one. Most callers thought him the handsomest collie X in the world. He got on well with Lulu although the two nights they were both here were very hard on Jess who became bad with her nerves. Rex, her litter mate, is naturally dominant which his sister resents. Jess dislikes all her litter mates apart from Dora. Ziggy was not impressed with Rex at all but at least Zigs can escape to his own apartments. Judy? She ignores the whole lot of them.

Judy

Jess Dora

Ziggy

In The Midst Of Pandemic, A Lovely Day

I took so many photographs and videos today that I hardly know where to begin. Actually, I do. As every day begins with moths then so shall this post.

A Buff-tip, one of a pair I found in the trap this morning. They look like little pieces of broken birch twig. Wild strawberry plants are not the normal habitat but then, neither are light traps. I hope that this one and its companion fly off tonight and make babies together.

It is Tuesday and that is the day Zoe comes to work on her allotment, a government-sanctioned form of exercise. Dave heads to the wood to continue the building of a sweat lodge and the girls take possession of the shepherd's hut. Social distancing is maintained at all times. I gave them my camera and they took pictures of some improvements they made to the decor.

I don't know which is the worst thing in this picture, that Evie is perhaps a tad too close to her granda, or that her granda is smoking a fag. It's all about perspective. Evie is easily 2 metres away and well away from his noxious smoke.

Inside the hut. Martha must have set the camera on timer.

Martha thought this little cabinet would look better with some small books. She was right.

Martha relaxing. Photo by Evie.

I have been advised to get a yellow ukelele to hang on the wall. This one is the photographer's own.

The next item on the agenda was the restoration of the swing. Evie supervises from the treehouse.

A very tall ladder had to be erected. If Martha seems closer than two metres to Ben that is a trick of perspective. Our home is practically a park. Sorry to boast but we're more than happy to share in return for your labour.

Up with the ladder!

And heave!

Evie was the first to scale the 30-foot ladder to check safety features

Martha was slightly more cautious.

Hannah didn't make it to the top.

Ziggy never took his eyes off her.

The swing happened. The ladder was dismantled. Dave (Knot Expert) advised on knots, the swing was tried. Apparently, it is amazing. Sadly there were no photographs as everyone was too busy advising, knotting and swinging and the Chief Photographer was in the kitchen finishing off and packing up supper for removal to Ballymena.

I am so looking forward to having them all around the table again. Back to normality.

The day ended as it began, with moths and the borrowed and very excellent Robinson trap removed to the polytunnels beside which there are willowherb, sallow and dog daisies. We are hoping for elephant hawk-moths.

Blue Sky Day

A shortie with photies. Nellybert took the dogs for a walk on the beach at the gloriously, beautiful Whitepark Bay and Bert used his backpack, a backpack so sadly missed on our trip to Rathlin Island. In it, he carried a bottle of water, two mandarin oranges and binoculars. And, whilst on the beach, a pair of Converse and some stripey socks.  

Here Bert throws a stick for the dogs. I told him that his stick-throwing is of a standard that is positively Olympian. For husbands with dodgy knees need to have their spirits raised.

No sign of sore knees here although none of this pack are getting any younger.

Dogs

Dogs make me happy. Mostly they do.

But maybe not when I'm wakened by imperious barking at five am by an old collie who just wants out to chase pigeons off the yard. That would be Roy.

Definitely not when I go to the bathroom at five am, before opening the double doors to let Roy out to woof at pigeons, and I step in a big flood of piss left by one of the bitches. I'm not sure if that is Judy or Jess but I intend to find out. Nature camera needed, or should that be a call of nature camera.

Certainly not when Ziggy decides to challenge a German Shepherd in Portglenone Forest and its owner gets really grumpy and says, should be on a lead and did you not see the signs in the carpark? Bert says we're not in the carpark which was true as we snuck in through the old graveyard having parked for free in the grounds of Aughnahoy Chapel.

Is it any wonder that we rarely walk the dogs in places where humans abound.

There were some doggy fans in the forest who didn't moan at us for our unrestrained hounds. There was little Willow, 17 months old who fell in love with Ziggy. He liked her too. She wasn't a German Shepherd. And there were two little pre-school boys who loved all the dogs and who told me that they didn't get a picnic. I said we didn't get one either. Their parents were lovely too. Seems like for every asshole we meet there are another ten good people, some of whom are very young indeed.

Wednesday Day Out

It occurred to me a week or so ago that Bert and I are not spending enough quality time together. I have blogging, he has the clarinet and we come together for gardening and meals but it's not enough. We needed more us-time so we decided more days out. And this week, Wednesday.

But, as always, life gets in the way. Aunt Lizzie needed coal. Since we discovered that a despicable coal delivery man was cheating Aunt Lizzie by bringing crappy coal and charging for top quality, Bert has been bringing her fuel from his own supplier. But as his sore ribs are paining him and he's under strict orders (from me) not to overdo it, I had no option but to help him with the offloading. And we had to wait until midday as Lizzie is not an early riser.

That all went well. Offloaded twelve bags of coal. How fit must coal delivery persons be? That is a tough job. Brought three dogs with us to Lizzie's delight. She adores dogs but can no longer manage having her own. Eighty-eight years old and still living independently, she is very much to be admired. It was Ziggy's first visit and he had to be dragged away. He knows an ardent dog-lover when he sees one.

Before we left I was gifted two gorgeous pelargoniums grown from cuttings. Eighty-eight years old and Lizzie is still as green-fingered as ever she was.

So, coal delivery and plant collection complete it was time to embark on the day out proper. From Connor to Parkgate, to Antrim, then to Randalstown where we walked in the forest, once a deer park belonging to the Lords O'Neill. Ziggy did not approve of the deer. They were completely unfazed by him.

After the forest walk, we progressed to Toome.

I said to Bert,

Shall we stop at Cargin graveyard and visit the IRA graves?

He said,

No.

Which was OK.

We stopped for coffee in Toome and ran into the lovely Liddys who seemed delighted to see us or maybe it was the dogs they liked but it was a sweet encounter no matter the main attraction. I don't think Judy or Jess have ever been to the shores of Lough Neagh before but they liked it.

Hurt

Today was one of those days that reminds one of how sad life can be. We went to the funeral of a man in his early fifties who had died from a brain tumour. I didn't know him well but I knew other members of his family, his older sister in particular. This man had spent his entire working life in a local tobacco factory which, up until recently was one of the most important employers in the local area. Between 2014 and 2017 everyone who worked there was made redundant. Many of those attending the funeral today were ex-workmates of Hugh. No problem getting time off for a weekday funeral - they all had time on their hands.

I went for a quick walk in the early evening. Now that the days are lengthening it is possible to do that and I'm grateful for it. Ziggy and I weren't even five minutes from the yard when I spotted a thrush lying at the side of the road. I thought it was dead but when I looked it was still moving. I picked it up and returned to the house and left it in the greenhouse. I expected it to be dead when I got back. Ziggy and I walked for thirty minutes and when we got back the bird was still alive. I made it as comfortable as I could and left it. Thirty minutes later Bert returned from visiting his aunt. He looked in on the thrush and said it was getting very cold. Fifteen minutes later it was dead, I was racked with guilt. should I have interfered? Should I have hastened its end? And if so, how? I wouldn't have the courage to do anything violent for fear of increasing its suffering. After it died I felt its little body and it seemed to have a chest injury. No doubt a blow from a car, one of those bastard cars that drives far too fast on our B-road.

Peter called round after work and he told me that a friend of his says that the best way to hasten a small suffering animal's end is to wrap it in kitchen roll and place it in a freezer. I don't know. That wee thrush took a long time to die.

Ziggy, my companion on today's walk. His little face reminds me that life is not always hard to bear.

New Years Day

It seems remiss not to mark the first day of the year with a blog post so here we go.

How do I feel right now?

Tired and a bit overfed. We had a huge roast dinner last night which Jazzer and I cooked. She did the soup, the beef, and the roast potatoes. I did three vegetable dishes, Yorkshire puddings and a summer fruit crumble. A joint effort. Then there was too much alcohol and some terrible TV. Jools Holland's show wasn't too bad but it feels a bit of a cheat knowing that everyone there was pretending it was the last day of the year. I mean, we weren't actually sharing the festivities with Beth Ditto, George McCrae and Adrian Dunbar. And, by the way, does anyone else think that Ed Sheeran is a bit bland?

What's been going on?

Leitrim Sister was up for a couple of days. As always, I enjoyed her company. It was horribly cold while she was here but we didn't let it keep us back.

What's happening tomorrow?

Going to Ikea with Zoe and the girls. I'll be buying James some new bits for his train set.

What am I going to do next?

Going to phone James' house to find out what he needs then I'm for having a G&T and maybe a bit of Netflix. Godless is good.