The Springhill Project

Bert says,

Clint's changed his mind about putting the meadow in potatoes this year. Says he has no time and anyway, what's he going to do with 9 tons of spuds.

Oh. Well we'll just have to plant a garden of potatoes somewhere.

There's nowhere for them.

What do you mean?

I don't know where we'd put them.

Balls! You mean out of fifty acres we can't find some wee place to grow a few drills of potatoes?

Well what do you suggest then?

There's no point in me suggesting anything for as soon as I say what about there, or maybe there, you'll have about a million reasons why we can't because that's what you love. Being negative.

And so we bickered on until Zoe and Martha appeared at the door all wellied up and ready for a day's gardening. I was just a bit mortified. Caught arguing like a pair of weans yet again! Even though we quit it the second she appeared she'd know. So I said,

Great timing Zoe. We were just discussing where we'd plant our spuds in light of Clint reneging on the meadow.

Within thirty minutes we'd all viewed up a couple of places and made our decision. Well Zoe made it. It's such a relief when a responsible adult turns up and puts the sillies on the right track even if she is their daughter.

We ended up having a most productive day. Rachael turned up after lunch and we sowed, and dug and pruned and planned. My primary task was entertaining Miss Martha. I had no complaint about that. And that's why I've had no time to blog this weekend. Taking gardening leave.

Young Dog, Old Dog

wait for me!, originally uploaded by NellyMoser.

I actually don't know how old Bonnie is. She did come to us as a stray. But I'd say she's getting on. She is not as able as she was a few years ago and like many GSDs she seems to have hip problems.

The hip issues won't have been helped by her start in life. God only knows how long she spent tied in that shed with no exercise and inadequate food.

Still - she's happy now even if only a few hours on the beach chasing after that pup leaves her completely tired out the next day.

Judy To The Rescue

And Bert.

I just keep getting the bloody cold. For a couple of years, before Matty got ill, I had neither cough nor sneeze but these past few months I never seem to be without the cold for more than a couple of weeks.

The one I've got now started with a headache. On day two my eyes itched. Day three brought the nose thing, lots of sinus and snotter. Day four was the throat and day five as well. Day six dem thing has settled on my chest. I caved in and phoned the doc for antibiotics. The chest hurts and I get out of puff if I exert myself etc. etc.

Of course tomorrow it might have moved to my diapraghm, day eight my belly, day nine my toot, day ten my knee and day eleven my big toe and then the whole thing would be gone. But I can't risk it!

Many, many thanks to Bert and the Judester who brought the drugs all the way from Cully. Here's hoping they work. Matty thought the Judester was lovely. Bert comments,

See her paws all covered in dried cow dung.

I hiss,

Shut up!

Thankfully Matty didn't see or hear.

I discovered today that I can see the Loan Hill from the Drumkeeran Road. When it all gets too much here I shall walk down the road and look over and cry.

Yummy Grummy

I Love Granny, originally uploaded by hootchinhannah.

I have been looking for a new profile picture for a while, one in which I did not look too horribly fat. Uncle John called me 'a Tank' last week. Most wounding but I have been scoffing the pies recently.

Anyway - this photo pleases me. I wish I could wear Martha all the time. She takes kilos off me!

The Cleansing Pow'r

I decided to have a lovely relaxing bath this afternoon. Lots of hot water, lots of bubbles, a towel to keep my hair out of the bubbles and something intellectual to peruse. Heaven. It's wonderful to live in the quiet of the country.

Hark! There's Plum crowing. Never mind. A rooster crowing is part of the country atmosphere. Outside Bert opens up the chainsaw. Never mind. The noise of wood clearance is all part of living on a farm. The back door opens. It's one of Pearlie's carers. It's the singing one. She is singing, at the very top of her voice, “Washed In The Blood Of The Lamb”. She puts the kettle on. Singing away, thumping time on the counter tops as she waits for it to boil.

I lie in my suds. I usually seethe at the Singing Carer but who gives a hoot? I'm home for a little while. Let her sing her hymns. The mad old bat.

Stringing It

New pictures in the corner. Hannah is responsible for the action pic of Dan & Rosie. She took the shot, framed the picture, sang the theme tune.

Last week I left a couple of items into Framework in Ballymena. They were an enlarged photograph of Lily and Rusty (a wee freebie from Photobox) and a poster I picked up in Burnham Market during Katy and Mark's wedding celebrations. I collected them today and was delighted with the results.

Rusty and Lily looking inquisitive

Only thing was I needed string for the hanging. Do you know how hard it is to buy string in Ballymena? Very difficult indeed. I tried Poundland and BM Bargains. No string. Lots and lots of customers there. All sorts of people too. Sign of the times. I bought interesting soup, envelopes and cheap drugs (cold remedies not crystal meth). But still there was no string.

Onwards to Sainsburys – I needed anchovies and a blouse and string. You know – your typical shopping list. Blouse easy to find, 25% off, very nice. Anchovies – wearisome and tedious trek around the entire store to find them. They were eventually located above frozen food cabinets. What is the logic? Beats me for sure. I bought four tins for God knows where they'll be next time I want them. String is not something that Sainsbury's customers have any call for. I left stringless.

Last port of call was my local garage in Cullybackey. I walked in, picked up some milk and called, “Darwin d'ye have any string?” Immediately a staff member darts to the back of the shop and comes back with the desired article. “Is that what you're after?”

At home, for the surprise of the thing, I got Bert in to open the carefully wrapped pictures of Desperate Dan, Rusty and Lily and there was the picture string already supplied. My searching had all been in vain.

My recommendations this week are for Framework, Hill Street Ballymena for a wonderful framing job and string and Hayes Garage, Dreen Road, Cullybackey for the usual great service and string.

Drumkeeran's Finest

Drumkeeran's Finest, originally uploaded by NellyMoser.

Shilvodan - Smells Like Shit. Finest Kind Shit. Can I be an Estate Agent now?

Miss Martha Calls

another new coat, originally uploaded by NellyMoser.

A visit from Miss Martha cheers granny and great-granny up.

Today she was wearing the vintage coat that Cousin Sadie (aka the Surly Niece) brought her from Peru or Chile or Somewhere South American.

We're all rather pleased with it, especially Miss Martha who is keen on her vintage.

Big Mother

Day 2 in the Matty house.

You'd be sitting there and suddenly a Marie Curie nurse would come bouncing in and say,

I'm here from half three to half five if you want to go out.

And what else can you do but go out. Thing is you haven't planned anything. Quick! Rack brains. Matty requested ham and there was none. Go to Asda, buy ham. Then go for walk in the Castle Grounds. Could have went to visit Wee Laura K and Baby Caitlin but no present organised. A walk in Castle Grounds and listen to audio-book. Damn. Forgot earphones. The Castle Grounds is having some work done. The paths are pure glaar. My trainers are bogging and yet I have left Hunters in the car. How disorganised is that?

I meet Eugene walking a Parson Russell terrier. He's somebody I know from decades ago and I hadn't seen him for decades until a month ago when I met him and his wife in Lidls. We chatted dogs for a while. I walked away thinking about the olden days when Antrim people didn't speak with a Belfast twang and we were all full of beans and the bull.

On the way back I avoided the soggy, disgustingly wet Castle Grounds and walked past the chapel where I looked in on Daddy's grave. It has been well over a year since I visited. His grave is just next to the plot where the babies are buried and there was a new headstone. It was very small, said BABY and had the child's name. On it was inscribed,

I will never forget you

I held you in the palm of my hand

Who wouldn't weep?

Being Here

I'm on my own in Tannaghmore with Matty. It's been a while. She is in bed and settled for the night. I'm sitting here with a small glass of wine writing this and listening to the incessant roar of traffic on the Lisnevenagh Road. In the next room Dancing on Ice plays softly. I wonder if Kerry Katona is going out? Matty gives an occasional rattly cough resulting from her latest infection.

I'm here for four sleeps and then Ganching comes. After that I'm here again for I don't know how many sleeps.

I dislike being away from home. I enjoy being around my own people, my animals and my own things. I've a huge bag of my own things with me. There are eight or more books. Bert said,

You must be going to do a lot of reading.

I say,

I want to be able to choose from a roughnance of my own books. Matty's books do not appeal to me.

I've three books on vegetable growing to peruse. I have two cameras. I have a Clothkits pinafore to sew. I have my iPod with an audiobook to finish and another freshly loaded. I have some mixed herbs. I have this laptop.

I find this a very boring house. I always have. When Matty was well there was at least the craic with her. There is not much of that now; only a bit of desultory chat for she is too tired for conversation now. When visitors call she generally nods off. The day is punctuated with care visits which start at 7:30am and finish around 9pm. In between there is medication, toileting, small meals to prepare, small amounts of cleaning to be carried out and many telephone calls to take.

That is what it is like now. Perhaps sometime in the future I will yearn for this boredom.

Judy's First Trip To The Seaside

Dee Mac said the other day, "You should take that pup to the beach. I think she'd enjoy it."

I think Dee Mac was right about that.

We went to Whitepark Bay.

Our last three dogs before Judy have not enjoyed swimming.

There's not been a swim-hound around Nellybert's since old Danny died. Until now.

Good call Dee Mac.

Work Experience

It was my Miss Martha day today. We began with a visit to Matty. Then it was off to Montgomerys in Ballymena for coffee with Dede. Martha loves Montgomerys because of the children's play area. She was plied with pickled onion crisps by a young admirer called Charlie. Crisps aren't a normal part of Martha's diet but her Mummy does not have too many objections if they are offerings from other children. Why be churlish?

After a little sleep (Martha not Granny) and lunch we went out to the tunnels to help Bert and Dee Mac tidy. Miss Martha proved to be very useful indeed.

This was a great help. I'm short of arm so with Martha holding the shovel I was able to make great progress with the sweeping. Martha was keen to operate the brush but it was too big for her. We will have to get her a more manageable one. And a boiler suit. She'll be needing one of those for her farming and horticultural pursuits.

Babes in the Wood.

Babes in the Wood., originally uploaded by triciamorimori.

My girl and her girl.

Every Picture Tells A Story

pigwranglin, originally uploaded by NellyMoser.

One day when Judy was a very small pup and Lily and Rusty were quite a bit smaller than they are now, she tripped up to them all trusting and puppish and Rusty nipped her and tossed her in the air. I happened to catch it in a little movie but never showed it as it was sort of harrowing.

There was no real physical damage done to the dog but ever since she has HATED pigs. They don't hate her. They treat her as if she is a particularly annoying buzzing fly. As you would too if you were built like a mini Sherman tank made out of bacon.

I wonder what Miss Martha makes of it all?

What I Did On My Holidays

I completed my last day of paid employment a fortnight ago. The idea was that I'd be getting straight stuck into a stint of looking after Matty. But the way it turned out was Matty got offered two weeks respite in the Braid Valley Hospital, so I've been on holiday for the past two weeks and it has been rather wonderful.

I hit the ground running in the first week. Bert's affairs needed a great deal of sorting out. I spent that week ordering clematis liners and sorting out his paperwork. I also got working on another plan. This year we intend to make more use of the land and, to that end, have taken on board another couple of people to work on our co-operative allotments. Our aim is as much self-sufficiency as we can achieve.

But before that there was some overdue cleaning to be tackled.

I started to clean underneath the furniture instead of flaffing around it and I was just in time. The pup-chewed wood, the milk bottle cap and the shred of Christmas paper could have stayed under the sofa for ever but I reckon that dead mouse would have made its presence felt before long. The sun-room, with its wood-burning stove, can get rather warm.

And talking of more useful dead animals - our friend Peter presented us with three fine, plump rabbits.

I had a great idea. Bert said it was his but as he didn't say it out loud that means it was mine. We were having the co-operative around for a brain-storming luncheon party last Sunday and I though it might be a useful and bonding experience if Bert took them for a master-class in bunny butchering.

So, after a delicious lunch of roast pork, home-grown vegetables and blackberry and apple crumble Bert took a party of three out to the back shed, showed them the bunnies and gave them a knife and went off to do something more interesting instead. Luckily Rachael had a book.

I still haven't heard what their rabbit pies and stews were like but I'm sure they were yummy. Freddie de Cat certainly enjoyed his bunny hind leg, made a nice change from mouse. I told Bert he should have hung those bunnies out of reach.

Young Rooney was most disappointed with us that we didn't keep the skins. Said they make a great rug when cured and stitched together. Rachael will need to be got on to that one. I fancy some rabbit skin slippers myself.

Winter's Bone

Bert and I watched this film together. He had already watched it on his own but chose to watch it for a second time with me. It was superb and I'd recommend it to anyone. It is not sunshiney but it is life-affirming. Jennifer Lawrence playing the young heroine is fabulous in the part and the child actors were astonishingly good.

There is one harrowing scene featuring the actress Dale Dickey playing Merab. Merab is one of three practical, hard-nosed sisters who don't fear violence, the dark or power tools. I'll not go into details but afterwards I said to Bert,

Can you imagine me, London Sister and Ganching at that carry-on?

And he said,

Youse would be complete wimps. Youse would be, "Oh I'm scared!" or, "It's so dark!" or, "Is that a cow? It's looking at me!" Maybe Kerry or Leitrim Sisters could handle it but not you three!

Well. I don't know about Ganching and London Sister but I couldn't use a chainsaw in a canoe. I can't even swim!

Anyway - if you get a chance to catch the film watch it. It really is good. Look out for the Deadwood actors, especially Sol Starr (John Hawkes) playing Teardrop.

New Blue Car

There was great excitement at Nellybert's today when Miss Martha took delivery of a new blue car. Well - new to her anyway. The vehicle had one previous owner, a Master Rainey, and apart from a bit of dog chew damage at the back bumper it was a great wee runaround. Now Miss Martha can be just like Granny and drive around in a bright blue, rather dirty car.

But there was one problem. The congestion in Nellybert's yard was damnable. She could hardly move the wee motor an inch!

Best Best Man Ever

Some things ought to be recorded.

Mrs Anna was visiting Matty the other day and the subject of the Leitrim Sister came up it being her birthday and all.

The subject of the Leitrim Sister's birthday came up and that led to the Leitrim Sister's wedding to yer man from Glasgay that looks well in a kilt. Mrs Anna said in a tone that broached no argument that yer man from Glasgay that married the Leitrim Sister had the best Best Man ever and that there would be no argument about this because he was the best Best Man ever, so I'm just recording this because I think Mrs Anna was right and it needs to be recorded.

Happy Birthday Leitrim Sister

Leitrim Sister's birthday today. Luckily she is not camera-shy so I had tons of pictures to choose from. There she was looking like a Celtic Princess on her wedding day, a Blue Stocking on her graduation day, a Wee Angel on her First Communion day and so on and so on....

So naturally I chose this one of her posing cross-eyed in a Christmas jumper.

Happy Birthday Dede.

A Bit Of A Lout

The Kerry Sister was telling me that the other day the Neesh and herself were amusing themselves with an Ulster-Scots Dictionary. Now the Neesh comes from Antrim and it's a well-known fact that Antrim people are practically McCooeys and know no Ulster-Scots at all so she was amazed at the richness of the 'hamely tongue'.

"Mind you," says the Kerry Sister, "We couldn't help but notice that most of the best words had the same meaning."

"Is that so?" says I. "And what would that have been then?"

"Oh," says she. "Most of them had a definition of 'A foolish, awkward fellow. A bit of a lout."

Well, it's said that the Inuit people have many, many words for 'snow', and Ulster-Scots appear to have many, many words for 'fool'. I wonder if this has any significance?

I thought I'd do a little research during the ad breaks of 'Big Fat Gypsy Weddings' and, advised by Bert, started with 'G'. It proved a rich seam.

My reference was 'A Concise Ulster Dictionary' a Christmas gift from Ganching 14 years ago.

Gaum - a fool, a simpleton

Gomach - a dupe, a gullible person

Gowk - stupid person, idiotic

Gornical - odd looking, dim-witted person

Gype - a clumsy awkward person

Galumpus - a stupid person

Gazeby - queer looking, a tall awkward person

Gaberloon - a stupid awkward fellow

Gah - a silly person

Gumph - a stupid person

Gulpin - thick-witted stubborn person

Glipe - an uncouth fellow

Gloit - a blockhead, an awkward fellow, a boor

Gludgeon - a clumsy awkward person

Glunter - a big awkward person

Gorgie - a foolish person, a clumsy silly person

Gowtril - good for nothing, a lout

Gunshion - thick-witted person

Gorkin - a big stupid person

My father would have regularly used 'gornical', 'gype' and 'gulpin'. 'Gornical' and 'gulpin' were terms of derision but I'm sure I remember him using 'gype' as an expression of endearment. Maybe I misunderstood him. I've heard Bert use 'gaum', 'gowk' and 'glunter'. He would usually be speaking of Clint.

312 Rows

According to a snippet I came across in The Guardian, the average couple has 312 rows a year which seems an awful lot. I wonder if Nellybert are an average couple? I thought it might be interesting to keep a record of our rows. I'll start with the one we had yesterday morning. To tell the truth I was too busy to memorise the finer details as I was organising cleaning and cooking for a wee poker do we were having that night. Anyway, I forget what it was about exactly and it was more of a verbal skirmish than a row. I do remember that Bert graciously capitulated so I must have won that one.

So if we're to have 312 rows then there must be more than 53 days when we don't have one and this might, I hope be one of those days.

Two of our guests last night had a mini-row on the drive over. It was about driving. Each believes that the other is a terrible driver and that they are much superior. She is prepared to take the Advanced Driver's Test to prove her point but he is not. He thinks that the amount of little bumps and accidents she has had proves his point. We did not take a stance on it but privately I thought if she's the one drivin' and he's the one drinkin' he should STFU. I know Bert would.

Dogs in Snow

Dogs in Snow, originally uploaded by KatyKatkins.

Yay! Thanks Katy - best our dogs in snow photograph ever.

The Marthas

The Marthas, originally uploaded by triciamorimori.

Drumkeeran

Lay of the land 1, originally uploaded by triciamorimori.

One of a series of pictures of home that the Kerry Sister took. She makes better use of that camera than I ever did!

The Good Life

Out two days running! I can hardly believe it! I am exhausted. The party on Saturday night was good. I met some new people. I behaved myself.

Then we had lunch with two old friends yesterday. The craic was, as they say, mighty. We hatched up some wonderful plans, ate some great food and drank some delicious rhubarb wine. And drank some delicious rhubarb wine. And, yet again, had more delicious rhubarb wine. I did not behave myself.

I have to confess that I spilled a lot of it in my lap as the evening wore down and that later on I admired the stars from a vantage point. That place being the broad of my back in our yard.

Oh we did hatch plans over the wine. If only a quarter of them should come to fruition there will be some changes around here. And more rhubarb. Lots more rhubarb.

Going Out

Nellybert are going out and Nelly, for one, is all dressed up!

I am wearing the high-heeled shoes I bought in TK Maxx, the black fitted dress I bought in Asda (only £9), the lilac and cream cardigan that Kerry Niece said I had to have from Mexx and the Pandora bracelet that Katy bought me for my birthday with charms from Katy, Bert and Matty. And I am wearing purple tights. For I am getting on a bit. Therefore I must wear purple.

A Return to Farfrae's Erection

It is a sure fact that your beloved Nelly has a rather puerile view of the world. Some might even call it twisted. But it really does give me pleasure that the Google search term 'Farfrae's Erection' has this blog in first and second place. Yay! Result! Nelly Moser takes the fore road of Thomas Hardy. I wonder if I can do the same with Shakespeare? Although that might be setting the bar a bit high.

The Headmaster was asking me the other day how to get a look at the oul' blog. I told him all he had to do was search for 'Nelly's Garden' in Google. I had to warn him to avoid any blog that had the words 'milk' or 'boys' in it as any resulting website would be highly undesirable for a man in his position to be looking at.

So, Headmaster, if you're reading this I advise you to search for 'Farfrae's Erection' instead. Much safer.

And of course this post will ensure that I stay in the top couple of places for a while longer anyway. So sorry Mr Thomas Hardy, your books are great and all, but when it comes to Google ratings it's carnage out there.

The Troubles We've Seen

Poor Ganching has been having a rotten week. It just goes to prove that good people don't get their just deservings for she has been more than good this past year in giving up so much of her time travelling back and forth to help out with Matty. She's not the only one. All my sisters have travelled regularly from London, from Kerry and from Leitrim to help keep Matty at home. My brother in Canada has been over twice this year.

Matty is stable but not nearly as well as she was. She still gets up every day and eats fairly well and, this is a real blessing, she keeps her wits about her still. Her main trouble is that she is very tired and weak. This affects her mobility and she cannot get around very easily. Despite these troubles she stays in reasonably good form.

So that is that. For now.

A Night In Front Of The Telly

Tonight I sat myself down in front of the television and prepared myself to be entertained and, to a certain extent, shocked. And I was. First I watched the 'Big Fat Gypsy Wedding' thing and I was horrified at that poor child galumphing to her First Communion in a pink meringue of a dress that, we were told, weighed twice as much as she did. I'd like to have seen Father Davey or Cassie O'Neill's faces if any child had appeared at the altar rails wearing that contraption. I actually don't mind the dresses that these girls favour - it is, after all, their style, their thing but the huge gowns do not enhance the wearer's grace or elegance. That 16 year old girl who got married looked like she was tramping through a muddy ploughed field instead of gliding up the aisle. Oh well. I should talk. I do a fair bit of galumphing myself and that without being hampered by a dress that weighs more than I do.

Then I watched 'Shameless' but not for long. Far, far, too rude and gory. Hard to take when you're sober. Early night for me I think.

And four more days of work to go. And an orange to eat.

Farfrae's Erection* and Other Matters

So this is me on the countdown to finishing at Moonchaser (anag.) I wonder if I will be very sad when the last day comes?

Today I decided that I will eat less crap, walk more and drink less alcohol. So far it has gone well. I also decided (after reading, before sleeping last night, a little chapter of St Germaine) to do much less housework. St Germaine argues that more than an hour a day is excessive. No doubt there are others who'd argue that even an hour a day is too much. We shall see how it goes.

Now that the weather is getting brighter it's easier to walk and I managed 40 minutes in Tardree forest at lunchtime. I am very happy with my current audiobook which is another Hardy, The Mayor of Casterbridge. How did I get to be over fifty and not read this before?

By the way, I still have another 30 minutes of housework to do, and an orange to eat.

*'Passing to and fro the Mayor beheld the unattractive exterior of Farfrae's erection...'

and earlier in the book the Mayor 'having shut the door... sat in his dining-room stiffly erect.'

As you do. The illustration shows Farfrae and Elizabeth Jane dancing under the erection

Up The Junction (One)

A couple of weeks ago when Kerry Sister and I were having a coffee in Junction One I spotted Liam Gallagher stroking about. It wasn't the latest Liam either but the one from quite a few years back with the hair, the sideburns and the parka. Oh I knew it wasn't the Liam Gallagher but there was more than a passing resemblance. I wondered if he did looky-like work, or if he was in a tribute band.

I saw him again last Monday and he was wearing a suit as you do when you work in a bank.

Happy Birthday South London Sister

January is a shocking month for birthdays in our family. Here's another one.

Wessex Tales

I was very keen on Hardy when I was a teenager but life got in the way and it's only recently that I have returned to him. Now Bert has also become a fan. Oh we are such a literary pair and you would not believe the intellectual conversations we have. When I'd finished 'The Woodlanders' I rushed sobbing into Bert's arms. "What's wrong?" says he. "Woodlanders," I sobbed. "I just finished it. It was so sad!"

Bert said, "The GOOD man."

And I said, "He was a good man and he was like you, he was brilliant at planting trees."

"Aye," says Bert. "But he was a fucking eedjit, lying out in the rain till he died!"

See! I told you we had intellectual conversations!

Before I read 'The Woodlanders' I thought 'Tess' was the greatest story ever told but now I'm not so sure. That ending was incredibly moving. Neither the babies dying in 'Jude' nor Tess getting hung affected me as much as Marty standing all alone at Giles' grave. I was very upset when the the Durbeyfield horse died and heartbroken when Jude and his wife botched the killing of their unfortunate, trusting pig. 'The Woodlanders' is the first, so far, where the plight of the humans moved me to tears.

Happy Birthday London Niece

Happy Birthday Miss M and congratulations on embarking on the brilliant portfolio career.

Happy Birthday Vancouver Nephew

A very happy birthday to my nephew Emmet.

You don't know what you've got till it's gone

First of all a big Nelly shout out to the Halifax banking advisor who helped sort out a thorny financial issue that had been troubling me for several days. Thank you Madam - you made my week and restored my faith in prayer.

And it's been a funny sort of day. I gave in my notice at work. This is something I have been seriously considering since well before Christmas. “Give up your good job in the middle of recession!” I hear you exclaim. Believe you me that is such a Nelly thing to do. I have my reasons and they are good ones.

Still I spent the latter part of the day feeling a wee bit wistful. The new office is starting to grow on me, I work with some lovely people, it's situated in a country area with lots of pleasant walks nearby. It's close to Matty's house. I have very many good memories from my time in this employment.

But this I have learned during my working life – when it is time to go it is time to go. I usually wait until I have another job lined up, this time I haven't taken that step. Although I don't expect to be idle. There will be work for me to do.

Get A Grip Time

Over Christmas I usually get a dose of ostrichitis. Sounds painful doesn't it? The main symptom is sticking my head in the sand. I wonder if ostriches really do that? Now yesterday I actually did think I was going to go completely doolally when I opened a letter containing the most dreadful news, which news was a consequence of my ignoring a previous letter. Obviously this terrifying missive was from my bank. I sat there howling and sobbing for a while then Bert came in and comforted me by patting my shoulder. That's pretty good for Bert. He says it is time to declutter my life. He says if I do that I will feel much better.

So this evening I started on a pile of paper sitting on my desk. I gathered together all the paperwork I think I'll need to convince my bank not to cast me into penury. I read a sweet Christmas card from a decent cove called Peter that I'd missed seeing at the time. I discovered that Nigel the Dog Warden is going to hunt me down for not paying one of my dog licences and I realised that I still haven't renewed my passport! If anyone tries to whisk me away on a Carribean holiday then I am truly stuffed.

That's a start made anyway. I intend to continue the decluttering my life during this coming week. Watch this space!

As Happy As...

At present I am not happy. Joy is mostly absent from my life. Contentment is a distant memory. I'm informed, however, that I am not depressed and I suppose that is something to be glad about.

I sat musing on the sofa just now while watching Bert destroy a perfectly good piece of fish. "You're going to fry it!" I exclaimed in horror. "The only way to cook that fish is to poach it in seasoned milk and butter then make a nice sauce with the liquid." He insisted that frying was the way to go. Off to Pearlie's pantry he popped to get the really awful cooking oil she favours. "At least fry it in butter," I implored him. He was having none of it. He really is a philistine.

So anyways there is me sitting on the sofa suffering the reek as Bert destroyed a perfectly good piece of fish and pondering happiness and the lack of it in my life. I got to thinking of all the 'happy as' sayings, such as -

As happy as a sandboy.

As happy as a clam.

As happy as a pig in shit.

Then this one. Has anyone ever heard it before?

As happy as a goat a-hanging.

It's one of Bert's favourites. Now why should a goat a-hanging be the least bit happy? Beats me.

Musical Youth

Dessie came round this evening. I was telling him that I'd just bought Miss Martha a selection of percussion instruments from Lidl's. He was uncertain as to whether these would be of an acceptable standard. My thoughts are that Miss Martha will probably enjoy them even if they are not of orchestral quality. Bert has been alerted that he will need to sort the whistles and the clarinet for tomorrow as he and the little lady will be having a session. Dessie recommends that we start her on a 'G' whistle. We may have to make an urgent visit to Beat Street, Cullybackey's numero uno musical supplies store. Hope it's not snowing. Hope I don't get carried away and buy Miss Martha a piano as well as a whistle.

Day Off

Which would have been best? Knowing that I was off today or finding out as a nice surprise?

Hard to call.

I spent my unplanned day off drinking way too much coffee with Kerry Sister then cleaning house then going walkies then visiting Matty in hospital. She was a wee bit cross. Cross because her sister has been discharged from hospital and now she is trapped there on her own. She reckons that maybe the doctors will change their minds about doing all these tests and send her home. So I informed her that she was trapped in the system and she informed me that my hair was a mess.

Hey! Mothers and daughters - laugh a minute right up to the end.

New Year's Day

Hannah and I went to meet the lovely Hails today for coffee - what else? There were some boys who tagged along but we paid them no mind. (Sorry Raymond & John).

Hails looks amazing. Korea obviously agrees with her. We went to that place that used to be a world-famous coffee chain and it has totally improved since it stopped being Buckstars. Sadly there was no kimchi on the menu but we gulped down our disappointment and made do with classic bagels and raspberry ruffle cheesecake.

After an hour of catching up, putting the world to rights and talking about pigs, kimchi and blogging we parted company to go and be good daughters to our mothers.

My plan was to spend some quality time with Matty and give the Kerry Sister a break. T'was not to be. When I arrived I found everyone waiting for an ambulance as Matty had developed a bit of a problem. The Kerry Sister and I followed the ambulance and found ourselves in a hideously busy A&E in Antrim Area Hospital where we waited, and waited and waited. Four hours later and she still hadn't been assessed. Meanwhile quite a number of useless fuckwits who appeared to have damn all wrong with them (but then what do I know, I'm not a medico) were taken before her. It seems that a terminally ill 84 year-old merely coming in with one of the nastier symptoms of her disease is not nearly as important as some young cove who will continually harrass the staff (between fag breaks) about when he'll be seen. Staff seemed to know him well too so I'd assume he was a frequent visitor. As I said, I'm not a medico, but if I was responsible for his treatment I'd recommend a staved hole. For those of you not familiar with local slang this translates as a good hard kick up the arse.

At the time of writing I'm assuming Matty is still waiting because I haven't heard anything different. So there you go - New Year's Day. Not to be forgotten.

The Best Bits

Of course 2010 wasn't all doom and gloom. There were some happy times. Katy and Mark's wedding in June was one such occasion. Matty's absence made for some bitter-sweet moments but despite this it was a lovely break from every day life. It just wasn't long enough.

2010 was certainly the year of the wedding. Other marriages we celebrated were Les and Dawn, Billy and Rachel and Declan and Laura. Those last two got busy pretty quickly and are expecting their first baby this coming February. Something else to look forward to.

At last! I got my kune kune piglets. Please to meet (again) Sperrin Awakino I and Sperrin Tutaki II, otherwise known as Lily and Rusty. We had a bad scare in August when Rusty contracted pneumonia but with the help of the Clough vets he recovered and, fingers crossed, hasn't looked back.
Then Bert bought this really crap van. It went through many mechanics before he returned it to the vendor and said, "Money back please!" It was a stressful time but one of the mechanics had this litter of collie-labrador pups and before we knew it we had ourselves a Pooper Pup. She's nearly trained now and has been a great source of comfort, amusement, joy and torture ever since.

Then there was Miss Martha who was always a delight, always a joy. I went part-time a few months ago to help her Mummy and Daddy get their work done. I haven't regretted it. Money is nothing compared to a grandchild.

And there was my family, my darling girls, Bertie Boy, my siblings and my friends. I don't know how I'd get on without them.

Although 2010 wasn't all despondency and gloom it did manage to give the family one almighty kick in the teeth soon after I wrote last night's post. My mother's youngest sister, only in her early seventies and stressed beyond imagination over all that has happened to her family since January, suffered a coronary. As I write this she's making some progress and I wish her a speedy recovery. Bring on 2011!

I Hold Things Back

I was going to write a post about how 2010 has been a really shit year and how I'll be glad to see the back of it. My reasons for thinking this? Well – for a start there has been too much death and illness in my family. And I have been under a great lot of stress which has impacted on my work life and consequently I am no longer happy in my job. Added to this I have lost my health and fitness mojo, haven't been doing as much walking as I'd like to and have been comfort eating which has resulted in a weight gain of 14 lbs and the relegation of lots of my clothes to the back of the wardrobe.

But then I had to reconsider – was I being unfair to 2010? For it did have its good times and Miss Martha has been a constant source of joy throughout the entire year.

So how did the year pan out? What were its ups and downs?

The downs are easy to remember.

In January Matty's only brother Dessie died the day before his 80th birthday. Matty was, at that time, complaining of stomach pain but wasn't keen on seeing her doctor. Looking back, we can see that for Matty this was odd behaviour. She finally allowed herself to be talked into it. I was sure it would be nothing.

In Spring Daddy's sister Mary went into hospital. She had cancer. Somehow I convinced myself that if Mary had cancer Matty couldn't possibly have it too. But I was wrong. Mary died in May and I was privileged to be one of three nieces at her side. Her passing was peaceful but previously her suffering had been immense.

It was after Aunt Mary's funeral that my three youngest siblings went to receive the news that there would be no treatment for Matty's illness.

Then in November Aunt Josephine died. She had been ill with dementia for a long time. Matty was in hospital when Josephine died, she was recovering from the after effects of a pulmonary embolism. We brought her home on the evening of the funeral and she now requires a serious amount of care, help and looking-after. After seven months of round the clock care from ourselves we, as a family, worry how long we can carry on with it.

I'm not great with stress. It must have been June when things started going wrong at work. I couldn't concentrate and, at the back of my mind, I couldn't convince myself that work concerns were actually important. Of course this is wrong thinking because one's employers don't approve of their workers taking this view. And I knew it was wrong thinking but I couldn't shake it off. Then the stress, the lack of sleep started to impact on my actual performance and it all turned into a vicious circle. Still spinning around in it to this day although it has got slightly better. I still feel as if I stand at the edge of a whirlpool of negativity and disaster. Expect I'm depressed.

It doesn't help that I often feel I'm waiting (impatiently) for all to be over. And not just Matty, Pearlie too and that makes me feel like a really bad person. I wait for my old people to die and then I'm old people and there are people waiting for me to die. Yep. I'm depressed.

Tomorrow I'll write about the best bits of 2010. They deserve a post of their own and pictures, lots of jolly pictures.

St Stephen's Day

Miss Katy and Miss Martha

For a while now I've been waking up at 3 or 4am and have not been able to get back to sleep. Some worry or other will come into my mind, usually something to do with work such as, will the Whoevers get the dents in their fridge freezer sorted out or will the Somebodys get their central heating fixed? And what about that franking machine - will we get it up and running? Will we ever find the black biros again?

Being on holiday I worry about other things. Is the turkey overcooked? Will there be enough room in the oven to cook the Yorkshire Puddings? Does Bert really, truly love me?

After the usual four hours tossing and turning I got up this morning at 8am and made a plan of work. I cooked beef and ham and brussels sprouts with bacon and almonds. I cooked carsnips and mushy peas. Bert and I had previously prepared a Norfolk Bronze turkey with stuffing, a tiramisu and a London cheesecake. Swisser made mustard mash and beetroot. Interesting. Zoe brought chocolate orange cake and home made ice cream.

All my daughters were there with their boys, their dogs and Miss Martha. We had Ploppy and Jenny and the aforementioned Swisser. We missed Mel very much.

Miss Martha had baby-sized Man Flu but bore it stoically. We had a lovely evening.

And now I believe we are going to play Texas Hold-Em.

Just in case you were wondering there wasn't enough room in the oven for the Yorkshire Puddings.

Happy Christmas

I was going to say tomorrow it will be Christmas Day but it's today. Happy Christmas everyone. I've spent all evening making alcoholic desserts and I licked the bowl. Cheers!

Dead Computers and Rancid Cars

This post is not about Christmas. No sir!

My PC died a death on Tuesday evening. Dave may bring her back to life again with transplant surgery but there are files I may never see again. Oh well. Hardware isn't what it used to be. I remember in the olden days of Spectrums and Commodores you could have beaten someone to death with your machine and it still would have worked perfectly.

Then there was the stink about the car. I first noticed the niff about ten days ago. I thought I might have spilled milk whilst transporting groceries. Today I bit the bullet and gave that car a good cleaning out and it was there, under the baby blankets, gilets, cowboy boots and assorted unnecessary paperwork that I found it - a tupperware container of rancid beef stew wearing a long blue beard. It was only the icy conditions that prevented it from taking legs and walking. At least it wasn't milk. I'd never have got rid of that smell.

It all brought back a feeling of deja vu.

A List

So. I did this application thingy on Facebook which computed the words I used most frequently in my 2010 status updates.

It was interesting.

1. Bert. Which is just as it should be. Blood ties mean a lot, an awful lot. But one’s life partner is the most significant tie of all, most especially if it’s somebody like Bert.
2. Martha. Back to blood ties. One’s children are delightful but there is a freedom and a delight about grandchildren that is different. Miss Martha – the most adorable, delightful person that I have met this century.
3. Bees – they are sleeping now.
4. Sleep. Something I don’t think I get enough of. Apparently people who sleep a decent amount are generally not as fat as those who don’t. Yet again that could be the junk food. I’m sure that eating properly would help me to sleep better. Hopefully will do better in 2011.
5. Honey. I do like honey but after two years of beekeeping still haven’t got any.
6. Forward. Only way to go really. In 2011 I am all for moving forward. This will mean leaving some folks behind. Somehow I think they will manage without me.
7. Pigs. What can I say? They taste good, they are good. To Zoe, Katy and Hannah my apologies for casting Swine before Pearls.
8. Love. I do. Love you. I do.
9. Hannah. And no mention of the other two despite Katy giving me a son-in-law in 2010 and Zoe a grandchild in 2009. See 8. Hannah was here. She got mentioned.
10. Evening. I’m normally a morning person but mornings were generally taken up with certain folks who paid me to give them up. Hence evenings were better, Roll on a time when Mornings are Mine!

I Brushed My Teeth

There are people who do not approve of 'social networking'. At our work dinner last Monday, my manager indicated his disapproval of Facebook and Twitter by suggesting that a typical update would be, "I brushed my teeth." I mean - who'd be interested in that?

Today I brushed my teeth, both the ones that God provided for me and the plastic ones I gave good money for in Magherafelt.

I also spent the day with Miss Martha who gave me as much pleasure as she usually does. She is currently developing her vocabulary and it would be no lie to declare that I hang on her every word.

We visited Matty who has taken another rally. There she was sitting with her legs crossed handing out the advice like the sage she is. Zoe's godfather was also visiting and he was telling me about his recent operation. It was a nose job. He said the surgeon was a 'great girl'. Said he had women all round him on the day and they were all great, but the head girl, the surgeon, she was the greatest. Wouldn't it be a rare thing if she should read this?

I'm back on the audio books. There was a while there when I was giving them a miss because I needed no distractions when driving because of the snow and ice and, for that same reason and others, I've been doing very little walking and listening. I'm currently listening to A Room With A View which is rather funny.

At home I'm working my way through Season 4 of King of the Hill and am a big Bobby fan. He reminds me of our godchild Ben, although Ben is much more handsome. But then he would be with a dad like Banjo Man.

Christmas? The Hell with it! It'll happen. Somehow.

Chillage Village

I was a long way from Chillage Village on Thursday evening. With the help of a sweet young woman I found my way back.

Today I nearly completed my Christmas shopping. Antrim. Junction One. I waited in many queues and chilled. I did not panic. I did not get cross. I was sweet to the people who served me.

Tomorrow we move office. We go go-kart racing. We go to dinner. God help and protect me. It will be fine. I live in Chillage Village.

My Busy Day (by Martha H.)

When my Mummy went back to work I realised that I too would have to get a job. The trouble was that I didn't have a lot of experience in the working world so I had to play to my strengths. There was one area where I knew I excelled and that was making old people happy and luckily, I know quite a few elderly folk so it made perfect sense to go out a couple of days a week and entertain the oldies. Thursday is Nellybert day. Nellybert to you that is. To me they are Granny Mary and Granda Bert. Today was hectic for I had an extra oldie to contend with as Auntie Hannah was there too. First thing on the agenda was to get all happed up and check on the outside world.
Those pigs are doing well. To tell you the truth I'm a wee bit apprehensive around them for they are rough. They always assume you've food on you and would walk through you to get at it. Still as long as they don't think I'm the food I'll be doing all right.

I've my wellies on and my snowsuit and the garden looks lovely and all but if Aunt Hannah thinks I'm tramping through it she can think again. Snow's nearly up to the top of my boots. It's like walking on the moon. Think I'll just sit here on this log.


Yes. I like this log.

I found this brush in the kitchen drawer. Just the job for grooming Fred.

I like Fred better than Holly. So I'll cuddle him.

Lunch time. I feed myself mostly but it pleases the old people to let them help. That is Aunt Hannah steadying my bowl of Popeye Pasta. Yum. My mummy is a wonderful cook.

Those bears never get a walk unless I take them. I expect Granny thinks she's got better things to do. But I care, even if she doesn't.

I like hats. If it pleases Granny to take pictures of me trying on new hats that's OK with me.

Then I have to feed Judy. It's pretend food but she likes it.

Granny looked a bit flat towards the end of the day. Thought a bit of art would liven us both up. She's got a lot to learn and I'm going to teach her.

Happy Birthday Katy

Katy through the years.
Happy Birthday darling.

Foddering

Bert puts in a time of it looking after the 'bastes'. He has all Clint's to do these evenings for Clint is out driving milk tankers 'til all hours.

He has to fodder the kune kunes and the hens and then there are the three dogs and two cats to feed too.

Then he goes down to Clint's and feeds and puts in 16 geese and 30 turkeys. Clint's dog Lucy helps him to get the fowl in. She is very good at it. He then has to feed Lucy, two goats and four young cattle.

After all that he has to go back home and feed Pearlie and then he feeds us. Tonight we had carry out from the new and rather excellent Indian takeaway in Cullybackey.

Last night at Clint's he was missing one of the Hereford heifers. After a long tramp he found her in a faraway field keeping company with a young bull. She refused to leave her new lover. The bovine equivalent of the morning after pill will be needed.

Bert said to me,

How long do you think I'd have to stand in the middle of a snowy field before some young thing would crash through six fences to get at me?

A long time Bert. A very long time.

Disruption

Travelled home tonight at 30mph on the A26, 10mph in town and village and 15mph on the road to Cullybackey. Before that I got layered in the snow at Matty's and had to be helped out by Cousin John and Brother Joe. London Sister can't get back to London and Kerry Sister wrecked her car trying to get to Matty's.

Ain't snow pretty?

Meanwhile Matty is quite poorly with a kidney infection and cannot get out of bed. And she only got one visit from the carers today instead of the four she's supposed to get. Pearlie just got one visit too.

Ain't snow pretty?

All The Fun Of The Snow

All last week I was late for work. No matter what time I left I was still late. I could have left at a time, say 7am-7:30am, that would have got me in on time but then I'd have been really early and that would have been even more time to freeze my ass off in our not fit for purpose office. We're moving to a new one soon but it'll be a week or so yet. So I was late Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday. No one said anything. I spent a lot of time at Matty's too and each evening I was getting home late. I'm behind with everything at home.

On Thursday morning it took me 40 minutes to drive from home to Zoe's to pick up Miss Martha. It usually takes around 15 minutes. We spent the morning at home and the afternoon at Matty's. I left Miss Martha and Miss Hannah home, spent a couple of hours at home then drove out to Matty's on Thursday evening. I was there until 7pm last night.

Then I had a pleasant evening at home with Bert. We tried the new Indian takeaway in Cullybackey which I'd recommend. That and a couple of bottles of wine put the evening in nicely. This morning I had a long lie in, then got up, had breakfast, updated my Wordscraper and Lexulous games, did some washing and took the pigs for a walk up the back lane.

I'm waiting now for the call back to Matty's. Kerry Sister set off from West of Dingle this morning, hit black ice three miles from home and put her car off the road. It's unlikely she'll make it to Matty's today. Must go now and have a shower and see if I can find some clean clothes to wear.

It's been quite a week. A fine week to find out on Monday that some dirty, rotten bastard used my debit card to treat themselves to 490 quid's worth of goods at Asda Direct. I wonder what they bought?

A Reply From Wendy Scudamore

Remember the man from Fermanagh who wanted to buy my Lily as a Christmas present for his son, the man who said Wendy Scudamore 'let him down.' Well it seems it was the other way around. This is what Wendy has to say.

(Man from Fermanagh) rang me weeks ago and wanted two piglets. the second piglet will not be weaned until early January so when he said he wanted them for Christmas I told him it wasn't possible to get them to him in time. He then wanted me to forget the second piglet and bring just the one but I told him I couldn't possibly travel the one piglet all that way on its own - too stressful and it would have no company when it got there.

I am pretty angry actually as I have another customer in N Ireland waiting for her pigs in Jan and I was splitting the travel cost between them . i cannot at this late stage let the lady down so I will probably have to shoulder half the cost of the journey myself - more than the profit from the pigs.

If you know anyone else in N Ireland who wants any, the journey cost is £300 and I have some super little breeding piglets for sale,

Best Wishes
Wendy

The Return of the Scunging Devil Dogs

Paddy and Judy disappeared today. The call of the snowy wood proved too hard to ignore. Dogs love snow because it intensifies smells and smell is how dogs experience the world.

They were only gone ten minutes but that was long enough to worry Bert. And it worried me too. I don't think I could bear another pair of scunging devil dogs.

We said to Paddy,

Paddy. How could you do this? At your time of life?

He looked at us sadly from his favourite spot on the leather sofa. We said,

Paddy. How can you do this to us? At our time of life?

He sighed, tucked his head between his paws and paid us not a bit of mind. I hope it was a one-off.

"scunge"

Ulster-Scots

Meaning:

to explore; wander about in the countryside