Walking in the Woods

Over Christmas and the New Year I got out of the way of walking in the woods. Too busy. Busy cooking, busy eating, busy entertaining. Hannah was much more diligent. Unless she has an all-day work commitment she takes Cleo walking. Rain, snow or shine. Cleo doesn't mind. Pippin does mind and she'll only go out if it's dry underfoot.

Pippin is a walking cat just as Caps, Harry and Holly were before her. Fred didn't care for walks and we wondered whether Woody would be up for it. Today we found out. Hannah got the Dunlop wellies on, Cleo's cue to get very excited. It has been so soggy lately that Pippin has been avoiding the wood but today it was frosty, the mud was hard and she decided to go with them as did Woody, for the first time ever. Pippin showed him the ropes, which paths to take, which trees to climb. He had a great adventure, came back ravenous and ready for a good long nap. 

These past two frosty days I've been back in the woods too. Today I met Bert and the dogs on the lane returning from a walk. Jess went on home with Bert but Cleo came with me for another walk, her third of the day.

When we returned I said to Bert,

Y'know if we'd met a stranger on the lane, maybe some devil, horns, cloven hooves the works, I'm sure she'd have went walking in the woods with him too.

Freezing

 

Despite Hannah's dire warning, we ventured out today. Bert drove and all went well until, outside our favourite breakfast cafe, the van got stuck in the icy car park. We were helped by a small Englishman and his partner who steered us out while the rest of us pushed. I was so grateful that I nearly wished England were still in the World Cup tournament.

After that small adventure, we went to a nearby fishing supplies shop to search for some Tasmanian boots. Sadly, their stock was low and my size was not available. It was an interesting shop though. I never knew that fisherfolk needed so much stuff. They have special everything. 

I was supposed to go to the bank to cancel a direct debit but it was cold and I had a longing for my wood-burning stove so went home instead. I have changed my phone contract and I know that more savvy people than I can do their banking from the comfort of their own warm fires but somehow i can't get the hang of it. Maybe it's because my phone hasn't enough memory. I have bought some memory and now I have to work out how to get it onto the phone.

Bert didn't have music last night so we thought we'd watch an episode or two of Motherland but then the TV started playing up and that was after me getting new superfast broadband. I'm wondering now if we need a new firestick or a new television. Everything is about technology nowadays. Les called round with very fancy marshmallows and instead of an insert telling one what flavour they were we were expected to use a QR scanner to connect us to the company website. Bert thought he could do it with his phone because it's a Smart Phone duh! He had no luck with that not having installed the app. Luckily I had it because I needed it to scan something for the Van Gogh immersive experience I'm (supposed to be) going to in January.

Well, we had marshmallows with our tea and I went to bed with this laptop. A friend contacted me on Facebook to ask me about a mutual acquaintance. Next thing she's calling me. I didn't know Facebook could do that. I pressed the appropriate key and there is a picture of her favourite cat and her voice filling the room. So there I am, in bed, laptop in front of me and Vinny talking to me just as if she was sitting at the end of my bed. The news wasn't good. The fellow she was telling me about had died. He had been a friend of her late husband and was the brother of two of our friends. As a Mr Heffron once remarked to me (at another funeral, of course)

They're taking them out of our pen now.

All over social media, friends and family have been taking photos of the winter wonderland outside. Not I. It's too cold. Instead, I offer up a picture of my fridge, c. 2005. Maybe you're on there. In your younger days.

Funky Funk Donkey

I really do hate this time of year. It's dank and gloomy and I have a rotten cold which I caught from Bert and he caught from Evie. Bert's was man-flu but I got the girly version which means I still have to make the dinner.

Thankfully Christmas will soon be over. My heart always lifts after Christmas. My favourite day of the year is Boxing Day because it's 364 whole days to the next one. This year we are going to Norfolk to see baby James and his folks. We are taking the van and, I swear, we could have got flights to New York for the price of it.

Today's achievements? I went out and looked at the polytunnel. I lifted some begonia corms and harvested some kale. Made a chicken pie (frozen pastry) and crispy kale for dinner.

Today's goggle box fix? The last episode of Catastrophe and most recent episode of Fargo. I watch too much TV these days.

Most irritating thing on the news? Donald Trump. As nephew Ryan wrote,

I'm with you Donald, and I also think we should ban the sea until we know more about the rain.

Most heart-warming news item? The donkey that was rescued from the flood.

Happy Donkey Saved From Floodwater Mike is the luckiest donkey in all of Ireland.
Posted by The Huffington Post on Monday, 7 December 2015

Arse Over Tit

I was very pleased with myself that I'd managed to get through three weeks of ice and snow without slipping and falling. Even a bout of calf-wrangling didn't topple me. So this morning with a good thaw set in I strode confidently out in my cleated hiking boots, stepped in what looked like a puddle but was actually water running over a sheet of ice and fell slam-bang on the broad of my back. Many were the 'fucks' that were exclaimed. I took the brunt of the fall on my coccyx. Like a good citizen I went back to the house and informed Bert that he would need to 'watch himself out there' and then got in the car and drove to work.

About two hours later the pain set in, and weakness and nausea. I never eased or warmed the entire day. At lunch time I took my usual walk. The first ten minutes were a bit grim but then I seemed to loosen up. Tonight - bacon and cabbage for dinner, two glasses of wine, no housework. Sure I'll be all right tomorrow. I hope. Right now I'm a bit stiff in the back but no pain. Alcohol is wonderful medicine!

Be careful out there!

In Which Nelly and the Kitten Find Themselves Feeling Rather Chilled

Apart from the garden centre, my present office is the coldest place I’ve ever worked and at least in the garden centre I could do some physical work to keep warm. So, much as I’d like to convey a smart corporate image, in jackets and heels and little silk scarves, I’m happed up in layers of wool and body-warmers, mufflers and fingerless gloves and with a long drip hanging off the end of my freezing nose and looking a lot less like a groomed and glossy receptionist and a lot more like Albert Steptoe.

But at least I was cheered up when Hagelrat invited me to do a book meme (I swear I think I started that one but maybe it’s just a geriatric delusion) and by happy chance the book closest to me was Swallows and Amazons and didn’t page 56 gave up a delightful passage featuring Titty and Dick and a lot of tackings, moorings and tying-ups to bushes that were growing out of rocks. But unfortunately the book is still in at work so I cannot do it.

The only other book I had to hand was ‘The God Delusion’ which was loaned to me by Mr D, a delightful chap in his eighties, and he says he’s definitely an atheist now. I think that’s terribly tough-minded of him at his age. I was the second person he loaned his copy to. The first was a Church of Ireland vicar and the book was returned inserted with 6 pages of handwritten notes and quotes from the bible. Mr D remains unconvinced but I expect the clergyman felt he had to try.

And on the home front Bert has embarked on his traditional Christmas preparations. This always involves a large, messy and thoroughly non-urgent task that he has been putting off for at least three years. I think it was last year he decided to demolish the turf shed and this year he’s building (from scratch) a sliding door between the scullery and the hall. The house is knee deep in sawdust and I’m terrified the kitten is going to decapitate itself on Bert’s Makita.

Not very kitten-friendly

Bert says it won’t because it’s not clever enough to override the safety features. But is it little wonder I fear that Bert takes a very cavalier attitude to Fred’s wellbeing when Hannah found the poor wee thing in the pet food fridge this evening? Luckily it hadn’t been in there very long and was happily lapping away at an open tin of cat food. But what if Hannah hadn’t been going to feed the dogs at that very minute? Bert said it would have learned the wee brute not to go in there.