Clematis Florida 'Sieboldii'
Tuesday, September 14, 2004
Flipping Clematis
I have been asked for advice about overwintering clematis in pots. Bert the resident expert has been consulted and this is what he suggests. He overwinters clematis both as liners and full-grown plants. They are kept in unheated polytunnels. He advises some frost protection if it is very cold and to plant out in spring. Don’t worry if they die back a bit, as they’ll sprout again in spring. Don’t overwater. Good luck!
Monday, September 13, 2004
Mad Aunts
The Mad Aunts series will continue but first I must contact the legal department (Zoe) to discuss what can and cannot be posted. Bert has a ball of them.
The Mad Aunt* pictured below shouldn't mind. She is a professor in Ulster-Scots Dialect at Crouch End University. What! You've never heard of it!!
*Gipus Maximus aka The Gancher.
PS Prof, it was Eamon called you Gipus Maximus.
A Free Society
"Most Northern Ireland households can expect to pay up to £415 per year in water charges, it has been announced.
The average household will pay £115 from April 2006, that will rise to £340 in 2008. "
Won't be long now before we are paying for the air that we breathe. This is one of the joys of living in a capitalist society. Mind you this household has been paying for its water since the house was built so we shan't notice much difference to start with. The last half-year bill was over £500. Clematis* production uses a lot of water. That bill was not usual, its normally much less but we had a leak under the kitchen floor. The cement had corroded the copper piping and we didn't notice until the quarry tiles started floating. When youse wans start paying for your water, you'll need to watch for leaks and so on. The Water Board, or whatever they're going to call themselves, will hold you responsible for your leaks.
*I'm trying to sneak in at least one mention of flipping clematis a day
Perfect
Bert and I do have the odd disagreement. This morning I was looking through the Sundays and I mentioned the term ‘airbrushing’ in relation to a photograph (of Abi Titmuss if you must know.) Bert uses the bit of brain that I use for cultural stuff on politics, so he asked, “What’s airbrushing?” I started to explain using his Kylie calendar as an example. He was having none of it. I tried to tell him that this was common practice and that all the minor lumps, bumps and spots were removed from these sort of pictures. “Not Kylie’s,” he argued. I retorted that if Miss Minogue were standing in our kitchen right now, in her vest and pants, she’d be looking pretty ropey compared to the airbrushed perfection of her calendar shots. “Yeah, yeah, yeah,” was his witty retort. So I decided to leave him to his fantasies.
Julia's Aunt
I heard about this one when I was a girl. She was a make do and mend sort of person which I suppose she had to be because a lot of people hadn’t the money to spend in those days. Not like you lot who probably buy new cookers to match the kitchen when you redecorate. Anyway she was an aunt of Julia’s who was my sister’s friend at school. I cannot recall her name so shall call her Bridie. Now Bridie had an electric cooker but the rings weren’t working so she asked her husband to look out for one for her. He came up trumps with another cooker but with this one the oven didn’t work. She hadn’t the room in her kitchen for both so she came up with the bright idea of setting one upon the other. This was the perfect solution except of course whilst cooking on the rings she had to stand on a chair. Julia said it was most amusing to see her standing on a chair making the big fry and chatting away as if this was the usual way of doing things.
Sunday, September 12, 2004
The Cull
When it came to the bit we culled damn all. Got rid of that Incan crap thing we foolishly bought in Lisbon. You know the sort of thing. South Americans playing geetars and pan pipes in major tourist cities all over Europe. And you're in the holiday mood (i.e. would buy any old crap) It even affects Bert and he's a typical Cully skinflint. So it is that, John Cale, Joe Ely and some other dancey shite will be donated to the charity shop. Now if there are any Cale or Ely fans out there the charity shop is in Larne somewhere. Bert's Aunt Lizzie* collects for it. Bert separated all his country and bluegrass stuff out so that he and Ian will find it accessible on Friday nights. But I couldn't help noticing that he has decided that all the Johnny Cash are his. I'm sure I've still got the receipt from Amazon somewhere. Sadly missing, cases only - Urban Hymns and Car Wheels On A Gravel Drive. Copies anyone? Make a nice cheap Chrissie present for Mrs Moser**.
* Coming soon - Mad Aunts
** In-joke for clematis lovers
* Coming soon - Mad Aunts
** In-joke for clematis lovers
Living Dangerously
At work we don’t get as many harassment cases as we used to. The loyalist feud in Belfast has calmed down. At its height families were being hunted from their homes in droves and quite a few of them landed in Ballymena. We still get the odd one. These are people who get in trouble with their neighbours for one thing or another and sometimes their neighbours have certain connections. They come to us and they are absolute angels with wings. We wonder how anybody could be so vicious, so evil as to drive this sweet person from her home.
Now if you were such a person would you get a skinful down you at the top of the town, then call in to one of the most loyalist bars in the town, where noticing that the majority of punters were rigged out in Rangers or England clothing, you would then have a bit of a banter with two of the larger lumpens about how you were a Celtic supporter and sure we’re all the same. She lived.
I know. I know it is savage but it is how things are, not how we would want them to be. And despite everything I know she was lucky. If they’d set the women on her God knows where it would have ended.
The thing that puzzles me is, where is the sense of self-preservation?
Now if you were such a person would you get a skinful down you at the top of the town, then call in to one of the most loyalist bars in the town, where noticing that the majority of punters were rigged out in Rangers or England clothing, you would then have a bit of a banter with two of the larger lumpens about how you were a Celtic supporter and sure we’re all the same. She lived.
I know. I know it is savage but it is how things are, not how we would want them to be. And despite everything I know she was lucky. If they’d set the women on her God knows where it would have ended.
The thing that puzzles me is, where is the sense of self-preservation?
It's a Dirty Ould Job
... but somebody's got to do it I came home from work this afternoon to find Bert in the process of sorting out the CD collection. And what is even better is that I know that he will finish what he started. It will be wonderful as all sorts of missing gems will turn up. We are also going to have a major cull of music. That task has been on my "to do" list for more than two years!
Saturday, September 11, 2004
Anniversary
Today is a very important anniversary. Let us remember all those who suffered and/or died in Iraq, Palestine, Chechnya, Darfur, Bali, Nairobi, Karachi, Afghanistan, South Africa, Madrid, Beslan, New York, Pennsylvania and Washington. And there are many, many more including our own country. (Think of Northern Ireland as the centre of a Venn diagram.) Let us also hope that George W. Bush will get his just desserts in November and be consigned to the history dump with all the other war criminals.
How to Brighten Up Your White Goods
.... stick pictures of friends and family to the fridge door. Can you spot yourself? It makes quite a talking point too because not everyone knows each other so you can have conversations starting like this... She done a Zoe Ball on him with him so he thumped him (Young Lothario) which wasn't very Norman Cook of him was it?
Back to Work
Aaargh! Back to work this afternoon after five days off. The less I work the less I want to work. Last shift was wall-to-wall PSNI because of two runaway teenagers. I wonder if they found them? The police are funny buggers these days. Some of them have this couldn’t give a damn attitude. Like the two who called round and were more interested in the serial numbers of an ex-resident’s electrical goods that were awaiting collection. Yer man the David Irvine look-a-like said, “Are you worried about these girls?” I answered frankly, because I reckoned they’re holed up in Dunclug, that I wasn’t that worried. “That makes three of us,” says he.
Then there was the serious one who wanted photos and a detailed description. We ask residents a lot of questions but not what height they are or what colour their eyes are. Probably we should plus take mug shots. What were they wearing? I don’t know, I didn’t see them leave. They were wearing spide clothes. We had two goths once who went missing and that was great. Spotted within moments. It was the fluorescent pink hair and black lipstick and one of them being pregnant that did the trick. Then there was the sergeant who must have got the stripes pretty recently because he was very thorough. Missed absolutely nothing as we inspected their rooms. After he left my colleague said, “Do you know you’ve got your top on inside out?”
Then there was the serious one who wanted photos and a detailed description. We ask residents a lot of questions but not what height they are or what colour their eyes are. Probably we should plus take mug shots. What were they wearing? I don’t know, I didn’t see them leave. They were wearing spide clothes. We had two goths once who went missing and that was great. Spotted within moments. It was the fluorescent pink hair and black lipstick and one of them being pregnant that did the trick. Then there was the sergeant who must have got the stripes pretty recently because he was very thorough. Missed absolutely nothing as we inspected their rooms. After he left my colleague said, “Do you know you’ve got your top on inside out?”
Friday, September 10, 2004
The Proper Care and Training of Cats
When our ancient three-legged cat died I swore there would be no more cats. Then Scary Tam called around and said they'd had another litter of kittens. "What are they like?" says I. "Totally gorgeous" says he. "I might take a look at them" says I. I phoned Zoe who agreed to accompany me on the viewing expedition. "I definitely want a female" says I. "I quite agree" says she.
So we landed at Scary Tam's and the kittens were rather nice. Zoe upended the three of them and pronounced them all males. She considered a career as a vet for a time.
"I'll take one anyway" says I. And so we landed home with Harry. He was always great fun. No fear of dogs at all and he used to take great running leps at them. Nowadays we have to dose him with catnip to get his violent urges going. Needless to say we got him castrated. My friend Vinny says that the average lifespan of an unneutered tom cat is two years.
But there was one huge problem. Harry had a thing about pissing on Bert, preferably when he was asleep. The duvets I had to dump! He got a name change for a while and was known as Pisher McGee. But he was still loads of fun and got away with it. "He'll grow out of it" says I. "He'd better, or I'll shoot him" says he.
Then one day that Bert happened to be up early and he went to the front door to have a piss. As we live in the country there was no one to see him but a few thrushes in the hornbeam hedge and Pisher McGee. Bert spotted the cat, adjusted his aim and sent a good morning strone all over Harry. And as God is my judge Harry never peed on Bert or anywhere in the house after it.
So we landed at Scary Tam's and the kittens were rather nice. Zoe upended the three of them and pronounced them all males. She considered a career as a vet for a time.
"I'll take one anyway" says I. And so we landed home with Harry. He was always great fun. No fear of dogs at all and he used to take great running leps at them. Nowadays we have to dose him with catnip to get his violent urges going. Needless to say we got him castrated. My friend Vinny says that the average lifespan of an unneutered tom cat is two years.
But there was one huge problem. Harry had a thing about pissing on Bert, preferably when he was asleep. The duvets I had to dump! He got a name change for a while and was known as Pisher McGee. But he was still loads of fun and got away with it. "He'll grow out of it" says I. "He'd better, or I'll shoot him" says he.
Then one day that Bert happened to be up early and he went to the front door to have a piss. As we live in the country there was no one to see him but a few thrushes in the hornbeam hedge and Pisher McGee. Bert spotted the cat, adjusted his aim and sent a good morning strone all over Harry. And as God is my judge Harry never peed on Bert or anywhere in the house after it.
The Haunted Bed
I will return to the shaggy dog story I was telling youse* yesterday. To refresh your memory you might like to take a look at the picture of Bert lying in bed surrounded by his menagerie. Most unhygienic but there you go. Is anyone old enough to remember a band called Three Dog Night? That was a Native American term for a very cold night. Since Danny died Bert has noticed that Rosie and Danny don’t like to sleep on the bed. Rosie happily sleeps under it but not on it. The cat won’t go near it nor will Paddy. Bert is convinced that the bed is haunted and the ghost of Danny keeps the others at bay.
*Ulster-Scots dialect
*Ulster-Scots dialect
Wet Wet Wet
Mr Fish said the glorious weather wouldn’t last and sure enough today dawned grey and cloudy. It started to rain after lunch and it hasn’t stopped. Ark weather. But did rain stop play? Not on your Nelly!
First stop was Antrim to see Jazzer. She’s been feeling a bit down recently, the reason why I cannot divulge. We went to Junction One and indulged in some fantasy shopping for our youngest daughters. Oh I wish Erin would wear this… if only Hannah would wear that. We did some real shopping in a Health Food Shop that has the most amazing selection of old-fashioned sweets. Which is strange and contradictory but there you are. I bought jelly babies and green tea. We had an hour or so of that, lots of chat then off to the Lough Shore Café for more coffee before picking up Ben from school. While we were at the Lough I discovered that Jazzer’s pretty scared of swans. Those ones are so tame too – not like proper wild swans. She told me that Ben (5) once called her a wuss for being scared and she called him a wuss back. Moments later he called to her “Look Mum, I’m no wuss!” and she looked to see him following a swan around clutching its tail feathers.
After leaving Jazzer and Ben off I went to see Dad in Glenkeen. He was in much better form than yesterday and enjoyed a tub of ice cream. Staff told me that he’d seen his GP earlier and that his chest is clear and he is on an antibiotic for his foot. I was glad I’d went down as it was good to see him looking better than before.
From Randalstown to Tannaghmore to report back to Mum. She was in good form and looking forward to seeing Trish on Wednesday. Then back to Ballymena to purchase a new CD player and radio for the car, which is my birthday present from Bert. I went into Halfords and announced words to this effect. “I am a sensible woman in my middle years. Direct me to the best value for money in the shop”. Spent £75 (reduced from £149) on something by Sony. Nearly £13 for the leads! And £30 to fit it!! Which they might be able to do in five minutes – or an hour. Gimme that. Young Lothario can fit it. There’s more to him than baking buns. He used to drive the most expensive Vauxhall in the world. The bits and trimmings he had fitted on to it were worth more than the actual car. I’m not asking Bert to do it. The last time he fitted one of those to my car he removed the front driver side wheel to do it.
First stop was Antrim to see Jazzer. She’s been feeling a bit down recently, the reason why I cannot divulge. We went to Junction One and indulged in some fantasy shopping for our youngest daughters. Oh I wish Erin would wear this… if only Hannah would wear that. We did some real shopping in a Health Food Shop that has the most amazing selection of old-fashioned sweets. Which is strange and contradictory but there you are. I bought jelly babies and green tea. We had an hour or so of that, lots of chat then off to the Lough Shore Café for more coffee before picking up Ben from school. While we were at the Lough I discovered that Jazzer’s pretty scared of swans. Those ones are so tame too – not like proper wild swans. She told me that Ben (5) once called her a wuss for being scared and she called him a wuss back. Moments later he called to her “Look Mum, I’m no wuss!” and she looked to see him following a swan around clutching its tail feathers.
After leaving Jazzer and Ben off I went to see Dad in Glenkeen. He was in much better form than yesterday and enjoyed a tub of ice cream. Staff told me that he’d seen his GP earlier and that his chest is clear and he is on an antibiotic for his foot. I was glad I’d went down as it was good to see him looking better than before.
From Randalstown to Tannaghmore to report back to Mum. She was in good form and looking forward to seeing Trish on Wednesday. Then back to Ballymena to purchase a new CD player and radio for the car, which is my birthday present from Bert. I went into Halfords and announced words to this effect. “I am a sensible woman in my middle years. Direct me to the best value for money in the shop”. Spent £75 (reduced from £149) on something by Sony. Nearly £13 for the leads! And £30 to fit it!! Which they might be able to do in five minutes – or an hour. Gimme that. Young Lothario can fit it. There’s more to him than baking buns. He used to drive the most expensive Vauxhall in the world. The bits and trimmings he had fitted on to it were worth more than the actual car. I’m not asking Bert to do it. The last time he fitted one of those to my car he removed the front driver side wheel to do it.
Thursday, September 09, 2004
Last Holiday
This picture was taken on a camping trip to Murlough Bay. It was Danny's last holiday. All the dogs had a fabulous time and so did we. Danny died soon afterwards. Did Paddy become the leader of the pack? No way. Rosie muscled in and became the Alpha Bitcher. Padraig Og will have to wait his turn.
Youth and Age
But as you can see from this picture Danny slept a lot in the last few months of his life. Paddy just couldn't wait to be the alpha male of the pack but what could he do? Danny might have been ancient but at least he had balls. A friend was quick to spot Paddy's lack of gonads and sympathised thus "Never mind fellow, that's one less thing to trouble you." I have wondered since if this chap, ironically called Mad Dog, was troubled himself by excess gonad activity.
Padraig Og
....and there he was. Not completely like Danny but could have been a relation. He was as thin as a rail and covered in blue paint. Danny and he sniffed each other a bit and appeared to get on. So we took him out for a walk and he was so good. Danny and he got on very well but it wasn't to last. Denise said "you must call him Paddy, after all it's St Patrick's Day." I agreed that Paddy was the name for him. It would have been rude not to. So a few rules were ignored (they didn't do a home visit) and we got to take him home that very day. Danny continued to look on him favourably. He settled in well until Danny tried to shag him and he didn't like that one bit. Over the next few months all went well but Paddy was never quite as friendly towards Danny as Danny was to Paddy.
Let Sleeping Berts Lie
Did I mention that Bert is very fond of his bed? This picture was taken this day (my birthday) a year ago. His companions are Harry the cat, Rosie the collie and Danny the champion of the world and all round best dog ever. Sadly he died earlier this year at the age of 16. He was quite a character. On the 17th of March a friend, her dog, myself and Danny went to the Mid-Antrim Animal Sanctuary to choose another dog. We'd looked after an elderly stray spaniel for six months and she'd died of cancer. There was a dog-shaped space in my life and Danny was getting so old. So as I said we found ourselves in Antrim looking at homeless dogs....
Thursday Night is Music Night
.... at Nelly's. That is when all the lads come round and hang about the garage making music. They started about a year ago. Most of them are near-beginners which is to say they were in their 30s and 40s when they got into it. Bert plays the whistle well, the clarinet less well. Ian plays guitar & mandolin, Glen and Ploppy play banjo. Then there is Joe. He is good - used to play the saxophone in a showband when he was a stripling, then dropped music for years. He got interested again when he heard about Bert's amateur night. Joe can play anything and he tutors any of them that want it.
Ramble Inn
Mum and Bert took me to lunch today. We went to the Ramble Inn, just a mile or two up the road from Mother and it was the first time she ever darkened its door! Bert reckons she thinks pubs are places that smell of porter and woodbines where the bar is propped up by gather-ups and n’eer-do-wells drinking the housekeeping money and spitting in the sawdust. She was able to tell us that when she first came to Tannaghmore that the Ramble was called Wilson’s Stores and sold everything from animal feed to Tilly lamps. She also said that there was a blacksmith just behind it. Can’t you imagine the good old boys taking the horse to be shod and biding their time at the bar with a bottle of porter and a woodbine?
After eating we went down to Randalstown to see Dad. He was not quite as good as he’d been on Tuesday but did seem pleased to see Bert. He seemed very aware when I told him that Anne and Tricia would be coming home soon. Nurse called me back and told me he’s having problems with his foot with a sore that won’t heal. Apparently the circulation to his feet is pretty piss-poor but they are going to have it tested properly. I’d also noticed his chest was wheezy and mentioned this to Nurse. She said he’d be seeing the doctor tomorrow. As we left he waved and smiled at us through the window which was nice. He was still waving as the car pulled away.
A memo for all that know and love him - he’ll be 85 next Thursday.
After eating we went down to Randalstown to see Dad. He was not quite as good as he’d been on Tuesday but did seem pleased to see Bert. He seemed very aware when I told him that Anne and Tricia would be coming home soon. Nurse called me back and told me he’s having problems with his foot with a sore that won’t heal. Apparently the circulation to his feet is pretty piss-poor but they are going to have it tested properly. I’d also noticed his chest was wheezy and mentioned this to Nurse. She said he’d be seeing the doctor tomorrow. As we left he waved and smiled at us through the window which was nice. He was still waving as the car pulled away.
A memo for all that know and love him - he’ll be 85 next Thursday.
Birthday Girl
Yes folks - Nelly is well and truly into her middle age. To celebrate today's birthday I begin by posting a picture of Nelly around about the time she started out. I'd say that photograph was taken in 1954.
Looks like another great day. I'd best enjoy it before the ice-age begins.
Looks like another great day. I'd best enjoy it before the ice-age begins.
Wednesday, September 08, 2004
Monday, September 06, 2004
Bringing Home the Sheaves
I'm that by myself with Ebay & the houseful of callers that I have decided to post some pictures to cheer myself up. I took this earlier today ~ a fine day for wee Herbie to get the barley in.
Currently the kitchen is full of men putting the world to rights. They have done Russia and are currently on South Africa. One of them is even baking buns! His mother has an Aga and consequently never cooks, so he bakes at our house. The other one lives in Ahoghill and comes up here to burn his rubbish. I told you that Bert had a generous, sharing nature.
Currently the kitchen is full of men putting the world to rights. They have done Russia and are currently on South Africa. One of them is even baking buns! His mother has an Aga and consequently never cooks, so he bakes at our house. The other one lives in Ahoghill and comes up here to burn his rubbish. I told you that Bert had a generous, sharing nature.
EBAYstards
So there I was happily spending away on EBAY using my credit card thru their PayPal service. Being me I just set it up and never looked at the small print. Yesterday I tried to pay for two small purchases using PayPal and they wouldn't let me. Stated I had exceeded my sending limit and had the nerve to ask for my banking details so that they could grab my money whenever they please. And me with a credit limit that would have allowed me to buy a terrace house in Harryville (in 1975) I was raging and sent a nasty email which was never looked upon by human eye. I've just sent another one IN CAPITALS to PayPal which will probably do no good either as I googled the problem and apparently the only solution is to start another Ebay account. Fuck them! I'll just go back to Helping the Aged and Saving the Children.
Dr John Reid
...is reported to have called for children to work in gardens in order to exercise and beat the obesity problem that has been vexing the government recently. Does anyone know where Nelly can get some chubby children to help her in the garden? No ASBOids need apply as Nelly sees enough anti-social behaviour at work.
Sunday, September 05, 2004
Wrinkly Een Disease
Yer man there suffers from Wrinkly Een Syndrome which is a side effect of Ouldtimer's Disease. As you see he is doing his best to hide the problem.
Snooker News
That's my nephew Connor who will be representing Northern Ireland in the under-16 Snooker Home Nations Championships in Wales this coming weekend. Good luck, Connor - we're all rooting for you.
Questions
When people come to the hostel we get them to fill in loads of forms and ask them lots of extremely nosey questions. Like:
What is your date of birth?
What is your national insurance number?
Ethnicity?
Religion?
Have you ever been convicted of a crime?
Are you an arsonist?
Do you use recreational drugs?
Sometimes they lie about the last three.
Questions I have occasionally asked in the course of my job:
When did you last have a bath/ shower?
Have you been shoplifting today?
That first one is a toucher. It is actually only safe to ask it of someone who is visibly a dirty witch with a circle of bluebottles flying round her head. Anyone else would be deeply insulted.
The shoplifting one can only be asked of someone who has previously admitted to engaging in this hobby.
These deeply inquisitive questions can open up a dialogue. And a dialogue starts the support part of the job.
What is your date of birth?
What is your national insurance number?
Ethnicity?
Religion?
Have you ever been convicted of a crime?
Are you an arsonist?
Do you use recreational drugs?
Sometimes they lie about the last three.
Questions I have occasionally asked in the course of my job:
When did you last have a bath/ shower?
Have you been shoplifting today?
That first one is a toucher. It is actually only safe to ask it of someone who is visibly a dirty witch with a circle of bluebottles flying round her head. Anyone else would be deeply insulted.
The shoplifting one can only be asked of someone who has previously admitted to engaging in this hobby.
These deeply inquisitive questions can open up a dialogue. And a dialogue starts the support part of the job.
Slapheads
These two are John and Marty last seen publicly in Omagh. The houndie is Tess who has been John's dearly beloved dog for around four years. Unfortunately she and he are having to part company as she wants to eat his baby boy. Tess is going to live in Portballintrae with Swisser and the boys. Swisser's boys are in their teens and Tess couldn't eat a whole one.
Daughter One
If Zoe doesn't like this picture she'll get her techie friends to hack in here and remove it. But she won't because she looks lovely in it.
A Grand Don't Come for Free
Whilst perusing the Sundays this morning I read that Paul Thomson, the drummer from Franz Ferdinand, was once so strapped for cash that he sold his excess body fat to a science clinic for £250. Where is this clinic? Mine must be worth at least a grand.
Saturday, September 04, 2004
Unwelcome Mat
As I mentioned Bert is away with his bluegrass chums. They are making him stay on for the concert and he is resigned to that. As he said "It's a dirty ould job but somebody's got to do it." This means that I am on my own until one am at least. So I locked the door and am repelling all boarders. I live with Mr Popularity - so affable, so friendly and so generous that everyone loves him. He adores company and what he calls a "stir". I think it is because he was a singleton and was lonely as a child. Consequently we have a lot of visitors. Me, I'm the eldest of seven and although I'm pretty sociable myself, I am also fond of my own company at times. So tonight I have locked the door and I'm not answering the phone. Cannot be bothered folks. Try to understand.
Daughter Two
That's daughter two and as the caption says she lives in Norfolk. She is currently offline due to moving house so she'll probably not see this until work on Monday. She used to live in a village called Little Snoring but now I think she is deep in the country.
Financial Advice
Blogging saves money. Since I started this I have hardly looked at Ebay. There was a gigantic parcel sitting on the doorstep when I got home from work and I thought to myself "what on earth have I bought now?" But it was only Bert's clematis labels. Sorry Zoe for the dreaded mention of the plant.
Bert is in Omagh today with Marty, John And Ian. They're at the Bluegrass Festival in the Ulster American Folk Park. Poor him. He has seen enough straw-hatted, gingham-shirted, dungareed fiddle players to last him a lifetime. He would have much rather been down in Portglenone at the deedly-dee show. I wonder if Stray Toaster will be there? Or will he be home blogging, packing and listening to the most important band of the generation. (Now that Oasis are 10)
Bert is in Omagh today with Marty, John And Ian. They're at the Bluegrass Festival in the Ulster American Folk Park. Poor him. He has seen enough straw-hatted, gingham-shirted, dungareed fiddle players to last him a lifetime. He would have much rather been down in Portglenone at the deedly-dee show. I wonder if Stray Toaster will be there? Or will he be home blogging, packing and listening to the most important band of the generation. (Now that Oasis are 10)
Friday, September 03, 2004
Daughter 3
That picture is daughter three. She will not be aware that she is standing against a leylandii hedge but she will know it is a plant .... or perhaps a tree. The moggy is Harry who is under the impression that he is a dog.
If I Ruled the World Part 1
If I ruled the world
Fat would be the new thin
Curly the new straight
In Norn Iron you’d have to marry out of your tribe
Bring back National Service but make it Community Service
Charles should marry Camilla but then he should give us back the money and GET A JOB!
Fat would be the new thin
Curly the new straight
In Norn Iron you’d have to marry out of your tribe
Bring back National Service but make it Community Service
Charles should marry Camilla but then he should give us back the money and GET A JOB!
Thursday, September 02, 2004
Nelly's Picture Joy
Flushed with success as I have managed to post another picture. Will I be able to do it again and if so what shall it be? Dogs, cats, Nelly, Mel & Bert as terrorist and crocodile hunter – the possibilities are endless.
I took the title from the media's cliched announcements of celebrity pregnancies a la Posh and Becks' Baby Joy. Which brings me to another train of thought. What would I have called the kids if I'd gone down the Brooklyn Beckham route. Daughter one would have been called Stallington, daughter two Vauxhall and daughter three Drumtara. Classy or what?
I took the title from the media's cliched announcements of celebrity pregnancies a la Posh and Becks' Baby Joy. Which brings me to another train of thought. What would I have called the kids if I'd gone down the Brooklyn Beckham route. Daughter one would have been called Stallington, daughter two Vauxhall and daughter three Drumtara. Classy or what?
Dinner from the Garden
September is not so bad at all. Last night we ate the first of the sweetcorn Tonight Nelly’s garden offered onions, peas, carrots and spinach. Mr Tesco (shame on me) offered mince and Mr Bisto provided the gravy. Wee Herbie the farmer provided the spuds, which Bert picked from the field. When wee Herbie comes to pay the rent on those fields Bert had better give him a good luck penny. I said to him recently “Won’t he mind?” Bert said “He won’t mind as long as I don’t do it in front of him.”
Daughter three said to me the other day that she thought this blog was a good idea but she went on to say “Just don’t make it all about gardening.” She is not keen as is evident by her choosing to live in Stoke. When she was younger she pointed to a dandelion and asked, “Is that a plant or a tree?” This for her was the major division in things horticultural. She wasn’t even that young as she was doing her A levels at the time. You will probably have guessed that biology wasn’t one of her subjects.
Keeping on the horticultural/agricultural theme I must report that I heard an unpleasant rumour recently. There is a college not far from here that would specialise in these subjects and I have heard that some of the students at this college are eating the animals! Namely ducks and pedigree lambs. I suppose it would be difficult to redd up a bullock in one barbecue sitting. Something has got to be done about student poverty. I wonder do they eat the laboratory rats in Coleraine.
Daughter three said to me the other day that she thought this blog was a good idea but she went on to say “Just don’t make it all about gardening.” She is not keen as is evident by her choosing to live in Stoke. When she was younger she pointed to a dandelion and asked, “Is that a plant or a tree?” This for her was the major division in things horticultural. She wasn’t even that young as she was doing her A levels at the time. You will probably have guessed that biology wasn’t one of her subjects.
Keeping on the horticultural/agricultural theme I must report that I heard an unpleasant rumour recently. There is a college not far from here that would specialise in these subjects and I have heard that some of the students at this college are eating the animals! Namely ducks and pedigree lambs. I suppose it would be difficult to redd up a bullock in one barbecue sitting. Something has got to be done about student poverty. I wonder do they eat the laboratory rats in Coleraine.
Wednesday, September 01, 2004
September
...is a bittersweet month for me. That is because it is the end of the summer, the garden is about to go dormant and it is back to school. The latter holds less dread for me now as (a) I am not a teacher T.G., (b) I have left school and (c) so have my kids. But every September that comes brings all those brats back on the roads, and even worse, their parents in their huge cars running the little darlings to school. Why can't the great lumps walk? Three miles I walked to Primary School, just from the bus station when I was at St Louis but with a huge bag of books and perished elastic in my cherubs. Imagine me at 12 lugging the huge satchel in one hand and holding up my knickers with the other. Those were the days, happiest days of my life. (Not)
The picture I am about to post is an end of summer picture of my beloved. That is a whistle in his hand and he has just broken off from playing some traditional ditty called "The Soldier's Jig" note not "Song". He used to flute in an Orange band but now he says those tunes are far too easy.
The picture I am about to post is an end of summer picture of my beloved. That is a whistle in his hand and he has just broken off from playing some traditional ditty called "The Soldier's Jig" note not "Song". He used to flute in an Orange band but now he says those tunes are far too easy.
A Blip
Reckon I posted my tomato and garden pic flukishly. Cannot get my pic of beloved Whistler to appear. Could it be that I was working on US of A time ( Washington? ) Scared to post again in case three come along at once. I've got the time set properly now. What I need is an hours tutorial with daughter one but she be sunning herself and running over snakes in Cypress.
I'm in edit mode now. Managed to post previous 4 times. How did that happen? (She asked herself) At least the time is right now. I wrote this after the September post but you wouldn't know it. I must have been in America for the September one. I shall post the Whistler tomorrow.
I'm in edit mode now. Managed to post previous 4 times. How did that happen? (She asked herself) At least the time is right now. I wrote this after the September post but you wouldn't know it. I must have been in America for the September one. I shall post the Whistler tomorrow.
The Good Daughter
...which is what I am today. I cleaned my Mum's windows. She was ecstatic (easily pleased my Mum, which is very good) Then I drove her to Antrim where we offloaded ten million books of the light romantic fiction variety to Help the Aged (it's all I ever do actually) The carrier bag burst in the middle of the carpark but I just gave a light laugh as I gathered them all up. And not a trace of embarrassment even though there wasn't a Picador or a Penguin among them. Those reuptake inhibitors are a marvel - it is like being mildly Eed all da time. Then we perused vinyl in John's Carpets (slight yawn) then collected a barrel load of her medication in Boots. Then we went to the Lough and watched the ducks, swans, geese and nasty seagulls. Daddy loved the Thorntons chocolate I bought him. Mum and I went home and we talked about her wedding (her wedding night too) and the happy day that I was born unto them. I also bought a new frying pan and made Bert a fry. When I figure out how to put pictures on this blog you will see the incredibly rude tomato I picked today. It had the cutest little erection. Mum will love it. She is so rude.
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