What Happened...

...is the title of one of the books I am currently reading. Hillary Rodham Clinton. Moderately interesting. No pictures. Picked up in a charity shop for a quid.

Bert and I went first thing this morning to Whiteabbey Hospital where he was to receive the follow up on the biopsy on the warty lump on the side of his face, I waited outside and finished reading Falling Leaves by Adeline Yen Mah. I forget where and when I sourced it. Probably a charity shop. It was an interesting read if only because it gave a first-hand account of life in China and Hong Kong from 1937 to the 1990s. That has left just thirteen books on my reading pile.

Next, I opened The Glass Castle by Jeanette Walls. It too is a memoir too, set in America, and also about a dysfunctional family which is really the only kind of real-life family worth reading about. I barely managed a paragraph before Bert returned with the happy news that the warty lump is nothing to worry about. He is to rub cream on it.

Other charity shop finds currently being read are,

The Lake House by Kate Morton. Bit meh.
Emotionally Weird by Kate Atkinson. Barely begun and I'm finding it hard to get into. But it's Kate Atkinson so it will probably be good.
The Little Friend by Donna Tartt. As above.
Human Traces by Sebastian Faulks. This has been on the go since March. Slow-going. But Bert finished it and so must I. This is the point of reading many books at once so that they are not thrown aside unread when a more tantalising read comes along.
Picador Book of Blues & Jazz, edited by James Campbell. I'll probably still be reading this in October even though I promised to give it to the guy who works in the library after I've finished. Which is very much a Coals to Newcastle situation.

Library books on the go are,

Ordinary People, Diana Evans. Early days yet.
How Not To Be A Boy by Robert Webb. This one is very, very good.

Bought from internet booksellers,

Five Children and It by E. Nesbitt. Why not? I enjoyed it as a teenager. I was book deprived as a young child so read a lot of children's literature when I was older.
Pastoral by Andre Alexis because I so loved Fifteen Dogs. Fifteen Dogs broke Bert's heart. He was all sniffy and broken-voiced when he closed it for the final time.

Given to me by Hannah,

Spill Simmer Falter Wither by Sara Baume. Barely begun. Hannah said if you enjoyed Fifteen Dogs you might like this.
The Beautiful and the Damned, F. Scott Fitzgerald. First time reading it. Not liking it much. But I will persevere.

So, what else, apart from reading has happened?

Gracie went home to her real family and I missed her.
I visited my Aunt Clare.
My grandson James had his fourth birthday and his little sister Emily has started to walk.
Jazzer and I had a day out in Belfast without going near the actual city centre.
Martha and Evie returned from their Connemara holiday taller and browner.
It rained all week.
And overnight my hair went from looking perfectly OK to looking like a badger's! Must be time to visit Rhonda again.

Every Picture: Hair Cut

This picture shall serve as an aide memoire for I really must get my hair cut. It is becoming so unruly. I don't have a fringe (which Americans call bangs) but when the front bit of my hair grows long it falls over my brow in two corkscrew ringlets which would be cute on a two-year-old but less so on the holder of an over-sixties travel pass.

We have the young ladies here tonight and they were very hard to settle. I blame Bert for indulging them with far too much horseplay, swinging them by the ankles, which they love, but which causes the blood to rush to their heads and the over-stimulation of their young brains.

One reading of Charlie and Lola was not enough. I also had to tell them the story of Aunt Jean's three imaginary friends Dogie, Simplit and Doodle, then the one when I went to Portrush on the Parish Excursion, felt it was far beneath my dignity to go on the helter-skelter and ended up wetting myself laughing at Jean when she did.

It still wasn't enough. Martha needed to hear the one where Tricia spent so long in hospital after her appendix burst that her hair started to grow and afterwards she was allowed to have it long. That led to a discussion about great-aunts' current hair colours and do they dye their hair? I said I never really noticed these things and she could ask them herself. Evie was dozing off but Martha still wasn't satisfied. I finished off with a long story about my great-grandmother, their great-great-great grandmother.

Granny: More than a hundred years ago!

Martha: A hundred years...

She could barely fathom it. The story was about widowhood, clever sons, Spanish Flu and the perils of amateur tree surgery. Moral of the tale - never stand below a tree when it is being pruned.

Hair Story

Miss Evie comes to me with her hair in bows and clips and looking quite the young lady. As the day progresses her pretty hair ornaments are yanked out and she looks rather dishevelled. This does not trouble her overmuch as she is not as concerned about her appearance as her big sister is.

Sometimes Granny tries to remedy matters but she is not as nifty at fixing hair as Evie's parents. I don't think Evie cares much for my efforts either!

I Despair Of My Hair

martha in the garden, originally uploaded by NellyMoser.

I had a similar issue with my hair but, unlike Miss Martha, I lack the necessary cuteness factor to carry off the hair fountain look. I had to rely on pinning the offending hank back with clips and grips. But it would come down and tickle me horribly. Most annoying.

I lost patience with it last night, grabbed the nearest pair of blunt scissors and whacked it off. Feels great.

But what does it look like? It looks like this!

Of course I haven't the sideburns.

Hannah Swings Her New Haircut

Hannah Swings Her New Haircut
Originally uploaded by NellyMoser.

Hannah has no time for blogging. I tell her to 'make time!' but you know what kids are like - never listen to a word of advice their mothers give them.

This post is for Jazzthefunk. Hannah says this isn't her favourite picture. Something about not liking her nose. But I like the picture and I like her nose.