The Morning Matriarch

matriarch

ˈmeɪtrɪɑːk/

noun

a woman who is the head of a family or tribe.

"in some cultures the mother proceeds to the status of a matriarch"

an older woman who is powerful within a family or organization.

"a domineering matriarch"

So how does the Matriarch of the Springhill Tribe put in her morning?

It is winter so many of her matriarchal duties take place within the home. The Matriarch will rise two minutes earlier each day. There should be no concern that she will, one day, find herself getting up before she actually retires as the process is long. It is written in her Book of Rules that she has to earn the right to rise two minutes earlier each day. If she does not she must set her alarm at the same time as on the previous night. At the time of writing she is striving to arise at 8:02am and hopes to have achieved this by the middle of January.

On rising she must first attend to her duties of animal care. Dogs go out the double doors and cats go out the back door (Fred) and front door (Holly) as each cat dislikes dogs and hate each other intensely. When this task is completed the Matriarch lets dogs back in and returns to bed with a cup of coffee and a book. In the Matriarch's Book of Rules this still counts as getting up two minutes earlier every day unless, on finishing her coffee, she snuggles down under the duvet. Snuggling down under the duvet forfeits the right to arise two minutes earlier the following day. After drinking coffee and finishing a chapter of a worthy book she arises from bed for it is time to Feed the Hens.

Feeding the Hens is an arduous, complicated task and can only be overseen by the Matriarch. Three minutes later she is back inside the house preparing her second cup of coffee. Then it is time to Check the Internet. That duty completed it is time to Update the List. The list updated the Matriarch carries out the third important task of the day which is, Feeding the Machines. When all three machines, washer, dryer and dishwasher are whirring merrily away on the greenest settings then the Matriarch can prepare her third cup of coffee. After which, Morning Ablutions.

To be continued.

In Which I Find Myself

Over the past few months I have been feeling under-employed, with too much time on my hands, that sort of thing. This feeling probably began around four months after Pearlie's passing.

I was sharing my feelings of ennui with Les,

I don't know what to do with myself. I don't know what my role is!

And Les replied,

Nelly – you are a matriarch. That is your role.

Matriarch. I rolled the concept around in my mind. Matriarch. Liked it very much. It is obvious when I think of it. The matriarch Pearlie died and I must fill her shoes. Even though she had huge feet and mine are average sized.

So what does a matriarch do?

The Oxford English Dictionary defines the role thus,

matriarch

ˈmeɪtrɪɑːk/

noun

a woman who is the head of a family or tribe.

"in some cultures the mother proceeds to the status of a matriarch"

an older woman who is powerful within a family or organization.

"a domineering matriarch"

So how does the Matriarch of the Springhill Tribe put in her day? That is a very big question and as I'm feeling rather tired I'll leave it to tomorrow. Matriarchal duties can be exhausting.

Tomorrow. More tomorrow. For it is written in the Matriarch's Book of Rules,

Always leave them wanting more.*

*This statement only applies to story-telling and not to other important things like Food and Love.

The Joys Of Pig-Keeping

Miss Martha is otherwise engaged for ten weeks. She is doing an important after school class in the martial arts and is likely to become a child not to be trifled with. The sad part is that her class will be on a Thursday which is her day for spending the afternoon in Cully. The jolly part is that it means we have Evie all to ourselves and, as the van only has three seats, we can have days out that include Bert. He had errands in town so we decided to pick up Evie from nursery, do the important business, then go to Cafe Couture for lunch.

Evie was convinced that she would be given a complimentary lollipop after her meal so when this didn't happen she was rather sad. So we went to Lidls and bought ice cream and other essentials.

On the way home we listened to Alan Bennett read In Which Pooh And Piglet Go Hunting And Nearly Catch A Woozle. We all enjoyed it very much. Every time we hear it I have a new best bit. Today it was...

Piglet passing the time by telling Pooh what his Grandfather Trespassers W had done to Remove Stiffness after Tracking, and how his Grandfather Trespassers W had suffered in his later years from Shortness of Breath, and other matters of interest

As we approached the end of our lane I noticed the oncoming traffic slowing down and pulling out as if to avoid something. I said to Bert,

What is it?

It's a woozle!

Unfortunately it wasn't a woozle. It was Lily. The pigs had broken out of their paddock and Lily had spotted the recycling bins at the end of the lane. No doubt thinking they were full of delicious food she went down to investigate. She overturned the bins and spread the contents around and by the time I got out of the van she had crossed the road and was trying to batter her way into another field - grass being greener and all that kind of thing. The good pig Rusty contented himself eating silage in the yard. We had got home just in time. 

Yet another rethink needed on keeping the kune kunes contained. Pet pigs? Don't even consider it!

Hey Pig-Keeper! Call that a fence?

First Funeral Of The Year

As it turned out I went to today's funeral (the first of the year) with the Wee Manny. He arrived at our house more than an hour early all suited and booted. In our part of the world, by the time a man is in his middle age he has his funeral rig ready at all times. This outfit will consist of a dark suit, a dark tie, black if the funeral is that of a close family member and, given the Irish climate, a heavy dark overcoat.

It was a battle getting Bert to wear his suit but he allowed himself to be persuaded. The funeral suit is a much easier option than trying to find other items of dark (clean) clothing. And the dark tie is always in the inside jacket pocket.

The reason I went with The Wee was because Bert was picking Hannah up from work and the Wee and I, both being Virgos, are very particular about punctuality. We were there at least half an hour before the proceedings began. The Cuningham Memorial is very close to where I live yet this was the first time I'd ever been inside it. The interior is very traditional, with heavy roof beams and beautiful stained glass. The pews are those old fashioned ones with doors. Ours seated just three people. As always, on entering the church, I had to stop myself looking for the holy water font and in the pew I noted the absence of kneelers. Presbyterians do not kneel. At least I did not attempt to genuflect as I entered the pew. I did that once but I hope no one noticed. That was at Church of Ireland wedding so you'd almost get away with it.

As we sat in that pew I reflected that The Wee is actually my oldest friend. Not old in terms of age, but old in the length of time we've known each other. I met him nearly forty years ago and I knew of his existence a couple of years before that. The Wee was one of the cool dudes, living mostly outside Ballymena, in London, Amsterdam and other interesting places. I first met him in Dublin while I was visiting my sister who was at Trinity College. He and I had a mutual friend and the three of us went on a pub crawl. Little did I know that we'd still know each other forty years on and that we'd go to funerals together and that we'd have spent the time before discussing our favourite baking dishes and other mundane things. He introduced me to Bert nearly thirty years ago so I expect I'll have to be friends with him forever.

The man whose funeral service we were at was the father of one of my youngest friends. I've known Mel for sixteen years and although I did not know her daddy very well, I know that she loved him dearly and he loved her just as much. His passion was breeding horses which he'd been doing for about as long as I've known The Wee. For the very first time ever in our village we had a horse-drawn carriage carrying the coffin to the cemetery. It was drawn by two black horses and somehow I missed seeing it. The reason? Bert distracted my attention by pointing out a familiar face that he was certain belonged to an old enemy from Ballymoney. I was certain it was not our enemy although the lady did look familiar. It turned out to be our vet from Clough. I'd never seen her in a dress before.

God Rest You John A. You left a fine legacy behind you.

Bert and Nelly's Day Oot Revisited

One  good thing about having a blog that is ten years old is that posts can be recycled. This one is exactly ten years old. There is mention (in the comments) of a fine man who died just two days ago.

Wednesday, January 05, 2005

Bert and Nelly's Day Oot

The ither day Bert says tae me “Nelly, that’s a stinkin’ coul oul day. I dinnae think I cud face stannin’ aboot in they oul polyhooses the day lucking at them oul bushes. D’ye think we shud go intae the toon for a bit af a day oot?”

Says I tae Bert, “Ye’re richt aboot that Bert. It’s nae day tae be stannin’ aboot they ould polyhooses luckin’ at bushes, nor any ither thing for that matter. I wud like a day in the toon, but shure I cud go naewhere wae me heer hinging roon’ me in tartles.” Bert says, “Richt enough Nelly, ye’re a guy throughother lukkin’ oul clart. Mebbe ye shud go oot tae yer cousin Pauline and see if she cud dae something wae yer heer.” Says I tae Bert, “Richt enough Bert, maybe I will dae that. But first I’ll need tae slap a bit of pancake and mescara on tae take the bad luk af me” Tae finish mesel aff I sprayt a squirt of the perfume Bert got me fur me birthday. So, says I tae Bert “Am I lukkin any better now?” Says he tae me, “Ach, ye’ll do. Ye’ll be better yit when ye get yer heer tidied up. Ye smell nice anyway.” I says tae him, “It’s thon stuff ye got me fur me last birthday. Ye mind we thocht it smelt like that quare good flyspray we got last August fur the bluebottles.” Says Bert, “Och aye, but it was a quare bit dearer than thon bluebottle stuff. Thon cost me seven poon in Bairds the chemists. Mebbe I shud have got you some of thon bluebottle stuff instead.” “Naw Bert,” says I, “Thon wud likely bring ye oot in a rash. Thon bluebottle stuff, nice an’ all as it smells wud be nae use on human skin.”

I’d already gied Pauline a wee ring and she’d said “Come oan ahead Nelly an’ I’ll see whit I can dae fur ye.” So aff we set in the big dented Volkswagen van wae Paddy and Rosie. Rosie got tae sit in the front but we haud to keep Paddy ahint us in the back fur he was clarried in glaar after bein’ in a sheugh after rats. So we got the length of me ma’s and Bert went intae her hoose and goat himsel’ a feed of barley soup and small bread way a wee cup of tae in his haun. Meantime I dandered over tae Pauline’s tae see aboot getting me heer a bit of a tidy. When Pauline got a gawk at me heer she says, “Boys-a-dear, Nelly. It’s a quare wheel since ye’ve been out here.” I says to Pauline, “Indeed it is Pauline. Luk at the cut of me wae me heer hinging roon me in tartles.” Pauline says “Och shure, we’ll soon tidy thon up fur ye. Whit way wud ye like it?” I tuk a wee scally at mesel’ in the mirror an’ I says tae Pauline “Wheek a good bit aff it. Good an’ short at the tap an’ the sides. I’m lukkin’ the early 80s dyke luk” Weel it wasn’t long ‘til Pauline had me sorted oot. “Is that the usual price then?” says I. “Aye, Nelly” says she. I gie ower a five poon note. Pauline reached tae fur to gie me change but I says “Not atall, Pauline. Shure that was weel worth a fiver.” I says goodbye to her and dandered back over tae me mither’s hoose.

I wis goin’ tae ask me ma if she wanted tae come oot tae the toon wae us but she says “Yer Aunt Maud is comin’ tae take me tae the toon. We’re fur the Next sale tae get wurselves some of they cropped troosers tae tek wae us fur wur holidays in Lourdes. They cropped troosers are all the go wae the pilgrims at the minnit.” I says tae me mither “Weel then, shure that’ll be all richt. Me and Bert’ll head on then fur Bert is mad tae get tae Burton’s fur a new jumper.”
“Before you go” says she, “Will ye tek a wee cup of tay in yer haun?” I says tae me mither, “Och naw. I’ll nae bother. Shure I’ll get some in the toon wae a fish supper in Caulfield’s, I mean Casper’s.” She says, “That’ll do then. Before I forgit Pauline’s made a lovely tidy job of yer heer.” I says to her, “Aye. It needed it, but boys-a-dear, she’s brave and dear wae her three poon. Now dinnae ye be spendin’ all yer pension in the Next sale noo.” I bantered at her.
So aff we headed tae the toon. In the carpark Bert parked the ould van at an angle astride the wee white line and aff we went intae the shoppin’ centre.

I wis scallyin’ at mesel’ in the shap windows as we santered in and was weel pleased at the new heercut. “Whit are ye fur getting’ Bert?” says I. “I cud really do wae a jumper or two,” says he. “Here’s Burton’s now. Boys this is great steam. Better than stannin’ in that ould polyhoose lukkin at clematis and shite. I love shappin’”

It wisnae long afore Bert had picked himsel’ oot a couple o’ vee neck jumpers. He hoult wan, then anither up agin himsel’. “Whit dae ye think Nelly? Which wan shud I go fur?” Weel says I, “The mustard wan wud be good for iveryday weer and wudnae mark aisy but I like the lemon wan tae. Mebbe ye shud tak the baith o’ them.” Says Bert tae me, “Yer right Nelly. I’ll tek the baith o’ them. Wull we go tae TK Maxx nixt and see if I can get mesel’ some mer bargains?” Says I “We wull indeed Bert and then we’ll gae doon tae Caulfield’s, I mean Casper’s, fur a fish supper and a wee cup of tay tae revive us. “ And that is jist what we did.

Inspiration provided by Willie Drennan and ganching

Like and Share

There was one of those happy/sad videos on Facebook this morning and I watched it, got happy/sad then shared. The video featured a young man in New York City going up to complete strangers who were scoffing pizza, explaining that he was hungry and asking for a slice. He got nothing but refusals.

Then the film showed another young man buy an older homeless man a box of pizza which the older man accepted with gratitude. The first man, the slice beggar, approached the homeless man as he was enjoying his pizza, sat down beside him, explained that he was hungry and asked for a slice. Without any hesitation the homeless man proffered a slice. The beggar sat down beside the man, thanked him and they ate together. When the beggar had finished he gave the homeless man a sum of money, thanked him and left. The homeless man put his face in his hands and wept. I almost wept myself. Then I shared. As did one and a half million other people.

Then I found myself thinking about the film, about how it was most probably heavily edited to make the point the film makers wanted to get across. And the point they were trying to get across was that helping others is a good thing for it makes everyone feel good. In the long run they just wanted the shares. The pizza beggar was wearing a shirt that advertised a film making company. It was a sweet message and a manipulative one, and one that did little actual good. It seems that nowadays sharing something on social media is even better than actually doing anything that helps. We get to feel good about ourselves without making the least bit of effort.

I wonder if the homeless man was even real.

December Daily Post, Last One!

I've found this daily posting a bit of a trial. At the beginning of the month I envisaged a stately, sometimes humourous progression towards Christmas and beyond. But, as some dude said, life is what happens while you're making other plans.

On this, the last day of 2014, Nellybert looked after our grandchildren, collected a young friend from the airport and we're now settled down with a hot Jamesons and the Dallas Buyers Club. I'm writing this while Bert converts to subtitles. Texan accents!

Happy New Year to everyone who visits the garden. Here's hoping for lots of joy and fun for 2015.

December Daily Post, No. 30

Any day that begins with eating Zoe's delicious Yule log for breakfast is going to be a messy, chaotic, action-packed 16 hours. And of course this all takes place without me actually leaving the house apart from a 20 minute pop to the shop to stock up on bread and milk and all the things that were going cheap after Christmas.

Today's visitors were Martha, Evie and their parents and their two dogs, then Billy and his two year old twins, next Peter and six year old Curtis, then Gareth and two pre-schoolers and Mr & Mrs The Wee Manny who were, I believe, hoping for a quiet half-hour before returning to their house of four dogs and three under-fives. The Wee was wearing a new red and green top, a navy pointed knitted hat and looked exactly like a retired elf. In the later part of the day we had Hannah and her friend who stayed for supper. The Misses Martha and Evie are staying the night so it will be full on for Nellybert until tomorrow's dark evening. Sure what else would we be at?

December Daily Post, No. 29

I was a patient patient today and Cousin Margaret was a patient patient supporter. For today was the day of my follow up appointment after my eye infection crisis.

Rather than be late for my date with the doctor we ended up being more than an hour early so we had morning coffee and scones in the Europa Hotel. It was sweet to be sitting in the Piano Bar watching and looking out at Robinson's and the Crown Bar. Belfast looked beautiful today.  

The day had not started well. There had been a very tight frost during the night and on my way out the door this morning to feed the hens I slipped on ice and fell on the broad of my back. I was looking at the bright blue sky before I had time to tense up and that was a good thing. I must have been shaken up still when I went into the henhouse for the damn rooster saw my defences were down and attacked me. The weight of him as he flies into you! I'm sure he'll make a delicious and hearty broth some of these days.

But it could have been worse. Poor Cousin Raymond was helping his daughter move house and he slipped on ice while he was carrying a washing machine. The washing machine fell on top of him. Apparently he is OK, still helping with the flit.

The doctor at the Royal Victoria Hospital told me that the infection in my left eye lingers on and I'll need to take another four week course of steroid drops. It seems it was a herpes infection and that I was lucky it was caught it at an early stage. Better news is that I am now on the waiting list for the cataract operation on my right eye and, in the meantime, I can continue to drive.

December Daily Post, Nos. 27 & 28

I'm afraid that Christmas has caught up with me at last. It crept up behind me and gave me such a wallop. The Banjos were here last night. Bert and Banjo Man went to a party and Jazzer, Ben and I ate and drank too much. And that is all I will say about that.

Tomorrow I am going to Belfast for an eye check up.

December Daily Post, Boxing Day

The Boxing Day feast went well. We were two men and two dogs short but still eleven round the table and four extra dogs.

My trifle was a triumph despite the rumour that it contained peas. Those were white currants! White currants, red currants, raspberries and strawberries - all from our summer garden.

I am so tired so that will be all for tonight.

December Daily Post. Christmas Day

Christmas Day. We had the nicest day. I hope you all did too. This coming year will bring lots of changes. I look forward to them. If there is sadness too, we will bear it.

God bless you every one.

P.S, Downton Abbey a great load of toodle but Nellybert enjoyed it immensely.

December Daily Post, Christmas Eve

A bit fraught, ever so slightly stressed. That is how I feel when I clean house. And it's usually how I feel on Christmas Eve. Not one sprout has been peeled. Some house has been cleaned. All the Christmas edibles have been purchased, some of the drinkables. The shops open again on Boxing Day so why do most people have a week's groceries in for one day?

All the presents are wrapped. We have a considerable pile under the tree. Bert asks,

Are any of these for me?

A few of them probably are even though he never buys presents.

Next year, if God spares us, Nellybert will be celebrating Christmas in Norfolk.

A Happy Christmas to all who visit Nelly's Garden.

December Daily Post, No. 23

A lot achieved today. And about time. Early morning grocery shopping in the village. Everyone I encountered seemed very cheery and pleasant, no doubt because they weren't in town. I got chatting to a delivery man who was wheeling boxes and more boxes into the local supermarket. Crackers? Mince pies? Trifle sponges? No. Easter eggs! He said he could hardly believe it himself.

Why would anyone go to town to buy bread and Brussels sprouts? All the basic essentials can be found in the local shops and it is far less stressful to get the bulk of the Christmas food shop there. Of course there are always a few unobtainable items. In my case it was mascarpone cheese and proper dark chocolate.

I left the van at home for my jaunt to Ballymena. Went to the cinema to see Paddington with the girls and their parents. It was really enjoyable, even more so because the girls were there too. Martha was very scared of Nicole Kidman's character but Zoe persuaded her to be brave and I promised her that the wicked lady would have her comeuppance. Which she did to Martha's great glee.

After the movie I walked along the river path to Sainsburys, bought a small bagful of exotica and got the train home. I managed 17'000 steps today which isn't bad for Christmas time.

Spent the evening wrapping and receiving presents so not a bad day at all.

And I'm thankful for it. Thoughts cannot help straying to those whose lives are very difficult right now and to those who are facing bereavement. I'm also thinking of those Christmas shoppers killed and injured in Glasgow yesterday. If everyone we love and care about are with us during the Christmas period even if it is only by Skype or phone then we are lucky people.  For this year anyway.

December Daily Post, No. 22

So here we are, two days before Christmas and I find myself rather unprepared. No food shopping done and twelve for Boxing Day dinner plus their dogs, Rex, Gracie, Maya, Ziggy, Teaghan and Pip. How did this happen?

Before I go to sleep I must prepare a menu plan and a shopping list as I might be able to squeeze in a tiny bit of food shopping tomorrow and I must be properly prepared. I am also going to see Paddington, The Movie and will, with Bert, be hosting Music Night. How did this happen?

Preparations for Christmas? I bought Christmas presents today. Martha advised and assisted which was very helpful. Unfortunately she now thinks that this means the presents are from her. I persuaded her to accept a credit. Everything we bought today will be from Granny and Martha.

December Daily Post, No. 21

Shortest day of the year. Yippee! Depth of winter on the turn.

Yesterday's day out was very enjoyable. Belfast very lively and sparkly, a wee bit Fleggy and, sad too say, there were more than a few folk settling down to sleep in doorways. It all seems a far cry from the olden days when the town died at night and only the security forces braved the mean streets. Back then homeless people would have been too frightened to sleep openly on the streets.

The ever-dwindling City Hall flag protest

Martha and Evie were here today and we fully intended that they should guest blog. As neither of them can write we decided to video blog and we made a very funny film with the iPad. There was ballet and everything. But we hit a snag, First of all, I was holding the iPad upside down so, until I find some way of editing it, a viewer must stand on his or her head. Then I couldn't find the connecting yoke that transfers stuff from the iPad to PC and it was too large for an email attachment so no guest blogging from Martha and Evie tonight.

To make up for it here is a rather poor picture of the girls standing in front of the tree that they trimmed all by themselves.

Preparations for Christmas? See above.

December Daily Post, No. 20

As today is the day that Nellybert has the Big Christmas Outing I will post early in case I'm too tired later on. And by tired I mean toodled. And by toodled I mean strong drink taken.

Here's a thing. My last post might have given the impression that I do nothing but watch teevee so, to counter that impression, I'll tell about the book that is engrossing me. It is The Good Listener: Helen Bamber: A Life Against Cruelty by Neil Belton. It's an extraordinary story of a life and it is beautifully written. Recommended.

Looking forward to spending time with my darling grandchildren tomorrow. I may let Martha and Evie guest blog tomorrow.

December Daily Post, No. 19

I copped out yesterday with the photo grab from Instagram but I was so, so tired. Bert and I had been playing catch up with James Nesbitt and The Missing. We managed three episodes on Wednesday evening and last night, after having the girls, then visitors, then Bert having to help Clint with the turkeys (horrible job that he had been dreading, for Bert loved those turkeys) we managed the final two episodes. Of course that meant we missed the finale of The Fall so we caught up with that tonight.

What is it about Jamie Dornan anyway? I don't think he's that interesting looking at all. He is excellent in The Fall but I couldn't imagine liking him or anything. Especially as he is in that Fifty Shades thing which makes me feel cringey. I haven't read any of those and I'm not going to ever. Unless I find myself in a country where I don't speak the language and it's the only book in English available. Then I might read it. But I'd rather not.

We went to visit Bert's Aunt today and brought her a poinsettia. She is a traditional woman. Asked her for Christmas but she says she's not shifting.

That was my Christmas preparation for the day. We are going to Belfast tomorrow for a couple of Christmas drinks with friends. I'm hoping for a couple of glasses of chilled white wine. I haven't touched alcohol since my eyes went dodgy. They are not that great today. My prescription for Liquid Tears got messed up and I tipped this stuff into my sad een that was far too strong. It was like putting egg white in them. Then I topped it off with the eye ointment at bed time and it was three this afternoon before I could see properly again. At this stage I think it is the medication that is affecting my eyesight.

December Daily Post, No. 18

A photo posted by Mary Byrne Orr (@nellymoser53) on Dec 12, 2014 at 8:42am PST

December Daily Post, No. 17

Darn it! This daily blogging is very wearying. I don't know how Ganching has managed to post every day during 2014. Only another two weeks to go Gan!

Nellybert are catching up on The Missing. We watched three episodes tonight so only two more to go. I'm so tired I am thinking of  recycling a post from 10 years ago. It seems I've been having issues with my pretend teeth  for more than a decade now.

And speaking of pretend teeth - we paid a little visit to a craftsman in Magherafelt today and, I'll say no more, but Bert must have heard me singing All I Want For Christmas Is My Two Front Teeth....

Where's My Tooth?
(A Post From December 2004)
I am a part-time worker (since February) and I work shifts. A typical shift starts at three, ends at eleven, has an eight hour sleepover, then starts at half seven and finishes at half three. Mostly I work alone. Mostly I work weekends. The hostel is situated right on a very busy main road. The trick is, if working weekends, to get to sleep before the pubs get out. Last night I didn't manage to do this.
I tossed and I turned. My feet itched and my duvet felt as if it was full of bricks. Outside revellers screamed, shouted and fought. The clock inched nearer and nearer to getting up time. By 4.30am I was so scunnered I just got up.
The thing is I get agitated in the wee small hours. My itchy feet were the first symptom of a pernicious disease of the blood. It's true! I read it in Take A Break, after I read the article entitled 'Oh Look! Grandad has Chopped Granny Up In The Garden Shed' and before the one called 'My Evil Boyfriend Ate My Twin!'
Amazingly I got on rather well. Gave my organisation hours of free Nellyness. But there was one snag. I lost my tooth. Being so tired I couldn't even remember removing it. The obvious place would have been the bathroom but it wasn't there. I searched everywhere, and as Saturday morning is cleaning the staff quarters day, I was terribly afraid I'd hoovered it or otherwise disposed of it. Nasty piece of pink and whitish plastic that it is, it would still cost a hundred to replace, not to mention going about for days looking like Johnny Rotten. Not a good look for Nelly atall.
Thank you God & St Anthony and St Jude. I found it. In the bathroom bin. A close thing.
Now it is evening and me, my tooth, Bert and Zoe are going to the ol' homestead to visit Jean, Jonny and Matty and partake in an evening of music & song. 

December Daily Post, No. 16

I haven't spent time with Martha and Evie for over a week and I am missing them a lot. I spoke to them on the phone yesterday. Evie told me she had been playing a game with her dog.

What were you playing?

We were playing The Baby Jesus.

I will be seeing the girls on Thursday and a couple of days after that they are coming for a sleepover. Can't wait! I'm also hopeful that they are going to take me to see the Paddington movie.

I took the van out today. My first drive in over a week. The eyes were up to it.

Preparations for Christmas? I posted three presents. Two to Kerry and one to London. Hope they make it. And I wished the woman in the Post Office a very happy Christmas. I thoroughly cleaned the scullery. That's festive. It's where I'll be keeping All The Food.

December Daily Post, No. 15

Today we attended Aunt Sadie's funeral in Cargin Chapel. The proper name is the Sacred Heart Church but, like our own wee Tannaghmore Chapel, it is always called Cargin Chapel. It's an interesting site as the old chapel stands beside the new. The old chapel (built 1821) is a listed building and cannot be knocked down. Unfortunately it is in poor repair and cannot be used. The old chapel is where my mother and all her family worshipped when they were young.

It occurred to me today as I sat in the packed chapel that Sadie, who never left her home parish, would have been baptised in that old chapel, made her First Communion there and then her Confirmation. She married in Cargin, had her children baptised there and thus the cycle began again.

I remember Matty telling the story of the September day when war with Germany was declared. It was a Sunday and she and some of her sisters, one of whom might have been Sadie, were coming from Mass. The heavens opened bringing torrential rain, Matty said she had never experienced rain like it. Two elderly women came down their lane through this downpour and announced to the girls that war had been declared. Matty would have been 13, Sadie 15.

It was dry and not too cold in the graveyard today. The last two family funerals were bleak, cold days. I remember when Uncle Desmond was being buried looking at Matty, Sadie and the youngest Clare, standing arm-in-arm, stoic, brave, freezing at his graveside. Aunt Josephine was alive then but too infirm to attend the funeral. She died that same year and now all we have left is Clare.

Sadie's son told me this story of a conversation between his late father and a friend. His friend said,

Y'know Charlie, there's very few old people about the place these days.

And Charlie said,

There's still plenty of us around Pat. We're the old people now.

 Old Cargin Chapel

December Daily Post, No. 14

What goes through the mind of  a person bent on destroying something that does not belong to them? Today we visited what remains of a horticultural unit where people with learning difficulties used to work. It had been broken into and entered on two occasions, vandalised and set on fire. The offices, potting sheds, glasshouses and equipment had all been destroyed. It was so sad to see it like that as the evidence of all the good work carried out was still visible. What remained were thousands of potted plants, abandoned and untended for more than a year. Amazingly, many of them were still just alive, in need of some serious TLC.

We were taken to the project by the former manager, a friend of ours, and we were able to take a van load of the plants home with us. It should be satisfying to bring them back to health. And it will please our friend who, with the trainees, had put so much effort into growing them. Years of work to build up the unit and grow the stock, a couple of hours to destroy it. Our friend said the culprit was only a boy. I wonder if he'll ever grow enough to feel shame for his actions?

December Daily Post, No. 13

Four Sisters

For the day that is in it. One, passed today. Two and Three already gone. Just Four, the youngest of them, is with us still.

December Daily Post, No. 12

Eyes. Coming good.

Weather. Light dusting of snow.

Breakfast. Café Couture in Ballykeel.

Question. To Bert, “Should I bake something?”

Answer. From Bert, “Silly question, of course you should.”

Visitors. Young Rooney. Razza.

Walked. 21 minutes. Wore new jacket. Very cosy.

Baked. Steamed Syrup Pudding.

Supper. Toad-in-the-Hole.

Phone Call. London Sister.

Watched. The Departed. Late to the party I know. Lots of blood. Very good film.

General Mood. Happy.

Preparations for Christmas. Went outside and chose Christmas tree.

December Daily Post, No. 11

I can see! At least, much, much better than before. The relief is immense. Eyes still aren't perfect and I'll be putting steroid drops and liquid tears in them for many weeks to come but thank God for medicine. I also have to put an ointment on them at night to keep them from drying out as I sleep. That brings blurred vision back but it's for a good cause and instead of reading at bedtime I listen to the radio. Radio 4 since you ask.

Preparations for Christmas? I bought myself a new rainproof jacket. Does that count?

December Daily Post, No 10

This will be a short post as my vision is still very blurry. I'm glad I can make it because this morning it would not have been possible. Yesterday Bert and I had a long, long day in the Royal Victoria Hospital.* Thanks to everyone who commented to wish me well and thanks too to my family who have been very supportive.

Preparations for Christmas? What do you think? Not a lot.

*Where there were a great number of people far worse off than me.

Back when I took them for granted

December Daily Post, No. 9

I am writing this with great difficulty. My sight has worsened. I have just got back from the doctor and I am to see an eye specialist this afternoon. I am very frightened even though my GP says she sends at least two patients a month to this emergency clinic.

Preparations for Christmas? None. I'm even wondering if there will be a Christmas.

December Daily Post, No. 8

I am getting really fed up with this eye thing. The worst eye is, natch, sod's law etc., the one unaffected by cataract and I am actually visibly impaired in both eyes. I've been taking my sight for granted for years now, just thought all I had to do was pop on a pair of spectacles and I could see for miles.

I've just watched an episode of Homeland where I wasn't able to read any of Carrie's anguished expressions. Indeed, if it hadn't been for her shiny yellow hair I wouldn't even have known which one was Carrie. And I'd no idea who was being shot dead at any point. Bert was nearly as bad but at least he has one good eye to focus with.

This had better be improved tomorrow or I'm off to bother the doctor.

Walked for 40 minutes in icy rain. I wore waterproof trousers,wellies and a very silly hat. Was the warmest, dryest person out there.

Preparations for Christmas? Had a trial run of the steamed chocolate pudding. Very nice but would benefit from a bit of rum in the chocolate sauce. Martha enjoyed it. She had two portions.

I rarely write about serious stuff but I'm often reading it. I've just read this by Yvonne Watterson on racism. As always, with Yvonne, it's from the heart and so well worth reading.

December Daily Post, No. 7

It's not that I'm not interested in fashion. I am. Very interested but only in an academic sense. I recognise many designers' work and I try to keep up with the big fashion shows. I usually have a rough idea of what's current and what's not.

So you've got that, Reader Mine? I am interested in fashion just not interested in wearing it. I was always A Vintage Queen anyway for that  was all I could afford. Now all I wear are warm clothes, comfortable clothes, what my eldest daughter refers to as farmer clothes.

So, credentials established, allow me to introduce the latest addition to my blog roll, Miss Naoise. She runs a fashion blog. It pleases me.

Today I went for a 40 minute walk and worked for an hour in the poly tunnel. I also made a very delicious supper of lasagne and a salad that consisted of,

A grated carrot from Lidls
A grated apple from Les
Half a grated clove of garlic, also from Les
A dressing made from olive oil and balsamic vinegar, both from Lidls...
And half a teaspoon of honey from Bert's Cross Bees

Preparations for Christmas? Good and bad news. The good news is That Bert, Hannah and I have decided on our Christmas Day dinner. The bad news is that I opened the Amazon parcel containing Martha's present (a book) and discovered that it is in French! Martha doesn't speak French and neither do I.  We'll have to learn.

December Daily Post, No. 6

Today I -

• Walked fast for 30 minutes.
• Worked in the poly tunnel.
• Cleaned house in a dilatory fashion.
• Read The Guardian magazine.
• Grocery shopped.
• Received visitors, three of them dogs.
• Applied drops to Bert's eye. He got the Sticky Eye Disease too. Karma for being grumpy and not listening to me about the towels.
• Made a plain dinner with spuds.

Preparations for Christmas? Not a thing but Martha's present arrived from Amazon. And I may have thought about baking a Christmas cake.

Best part of the day? Overlapping visitors when two small boys met one delightful Jack Russell Terrier puppy.  No photographs as little boys and small dogs won't stay still for a second.

Howard can stay still. Sprollies not so much.

December Daily Post, No. 5

Almost better. Eyes still sticky but no pain and, best of all, my energy has returned. The van was in for repairs this afternoon so I walked to the village. It took me 26 minutes down the hill and 24 on the way back. I was ever so pleased with myself.

Preparations for Christmas? I went to Martha's Nativity Play and enjoyed it very much. I drove Martha's mum and little sister and got to sit beside the co-grandparents. Martha was a singing angel and played her part well. She looked divine in every sense of the word. I also managed to get Katkin's birthday card and present into the post. That's what the walk was about. A December birthday is part of Christmas too.

December Daily Post, No. 4

I meet the eldest granddaughter from the school bus.

Guess what I did today in front of Daddy? 

Your Nativity Play? 

Yes!! 

Was it good? 

Yes. 

That's brilliant. Mummy and Evie and me will be seeing it tomorrow.

(Daddy had to go a day early as he is being a Wildling tomorrow.)

Bert is looking after Evie and you and I are going shopping. 

Oh good. Can we go to Sainsburys? 

No. We're going to the Spar like we did last week. 

But Sainsburys is much better than the Spar! There are far more things to buy and it's much bigger! 

That's why I want to go to the Spar. I don't have a lot of money today and if I go to Sainsburys I'll see lots of things I'd like and I won't be able to buy them. The Spar is a bit boring but it has all the things I need...

Lip trembles.

Oh Martha! You have to let Granny decide where she wants to shop. Here, if you stop crying and be a sensible girl I'll let you phone Hannah to let her know we're ready to pick up Ziggy.

(Occasionally I look after granddoggies as well as granddaughters)

I quickly dial the number and give her the phone. Then I swap a three year old car seat for a big girl's car seat. By the time I'm finished she is at Hannah's door taking charge of Ziggy. Her mood is well improved.

As we drive off I explain to her how I make decisions about where I'm going to shop. I mention Lidls.

Oh Granny, we could go to Lidls. It's not too far out of our way and...

Then I think. Lidls doesn't bombard me with choices. It has everything I need and it has wine. The Spar does not have wine.

OK. Let's go to Lidls.

She's delighted. She must really hate Cullybackey Spar.

We go round. First thing she gets me to buy is panini. I'm pleased that she ignores biscuits and confectionary. Then I'm strongarmed into buying two scoops of shelled almonds. At least they are healthy. I pick up my fruit and veg, my butter, my Earl Grey tea. There are toys. I leave her looking at them while I look for ginger. I return moments later and she has laid some packets on the floor and is gazing upon them intently. The packets come from a stand advertised as 'Princess Accessories' and they are,

1. Plastic beads and bracelets
2. Plastic tiaras
3. Plastic high heeled shoes with ribbons

I ask her to return them to the stand in case someone steps on them. She complies like a good girl. Then she gazes into my face, Her eyes are beautiful, big and blue.

I really like the shoes Granny.

But Martha, I've already bought your Christmas present.

It doesn't have to be for Christmas Granny. It can be a replacement for the ones that Jess chewed. 

Martha. When I'm really old will you do my shopping for me?

Yes.

Will you take me everywhere I need to go?

Yes.

Her face is shining with delight and happiness. And it is not because she is looking forward to looking after me in my extreme old age, it is because she knows she is 'getting the shoes'. Then she chose the yellow ones and the pink ones for her sister.

I so adore being a Granny.

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Eye infection update? Getting better every day.

Preparations for Christmas? Looking forward to the Nativity Play tomorrow. Especially as I can now see.

December Daily Post, No. 3

Today has not been a particularly good day even though my eyes appear to be making some improvement. I cried a lot and I'm sure the floods of salty tears did me an awful lot of good. And why the tears? Well. The viral infection is making me feel very emotional and I read Michael Morpurgo's War Horse. I howled.

My friend came round today with half a set of twins and I lent her A Christmas Carol. She wants to read it to all her twins and her big girl. I also gave her a spare copy of Girl of the Limberlost. That made me happy.

Bert is very grumpy which is normal for him when I'm feeling below par. Not helpful.

Preparations for Christmas? I lent my friend A Christmas Carol. That's it.

December Daily Post, No. 2

I have been applying the antibiotic eye drops for 24 hours now and my eyes are still sore, red and gungey. I read on Mumsnet (it came up in a Google search) that the drops only shorten the duration of the condition by one day. And - the Wee Manny was here today and he said he'd had it for two weeks! But he smokes so that cannot help. Mind you I'm sitting in a room with an open fire and burning turf and bits of tree bark so I might as well be smoking. Did I mention that I can't see so if there are typos in this post forgive me.

Preparations for Christmas? I bought a present (online) for Miss Martha. It's a start.

December Daily Post, No. 1

Things are not good at Nellybert's. I have a viral infection, achey bones, sneezy and the worst eye infection I have ever experienced.

I've achieved nothing today apart from watching The Cider House Rules and the latest episode of The Fall.

Preparations for Christmas? Absolutely nothing.

Hoping to be feeling more energetic (and entertaining) tomorrow.