In Praise of Bonnie and Ben

Our godson has been staying with us this past few days and, as always, he is a pleasure to be around. I'm noticing some changes in him. All good. His confidence is increasing. He goes to the shop with me wearing grubby sweats and Hunter wellies. Two years ago he would have been worried that someone who knows him might see him and judge him. Now he doesn't care. I like that attitude.

It was great to have him here yesterday when we were so tired after the supper party shenanigans. He entertained the Misses Martha and Evie for most of the day. They discovered they did not need to keep their shoes on as Ben would carry them wherever they wanted to go. I have told him to knock that one on the head as they are taking advantage of his good nature as well as his strong arms.

He goes home tomorrow. Apparently his mother can be relied upon to make an amazing Easter Sunday dinner. He certainly wouldn't get that here. Not with me in my state of health. Bert says another clean shirt will do me.

Another clean shirt will do him - expression implying that the subject is close to death. Often used in exaggeration, e.g. if the subject has a heavy cold!

Old Ulster-Scots expression

So, back to Flickr. Have to say all the top-rated pictures tend to be rather saccharine although I do like this one, the third most interesting on Good Friday, the 3rd of April.

It's the late, much missed Bonnie, one of the gentlest dogs we've ever had, and Fred, when he was a little kitten. This one has been viewed 720 times. That cushion cover was chewed to pieces by Jess and the sofa has been relegated to the poly tunnel. Things change.

Lost and Found

Yesterday was busy. I cooked and cleaned for half the day whilst suffering the stinkingest head cold I've had in some time. Nellybert have had it for well over a week now. Bert says,

It's one of those hingy-about boys.

The cooking and cleaning might have been unnecessary as we had the incontinent dog and one of  our guests wasn't even hungry. So didn't eat. I took myself off to bed before midnight and fell into a deep sleep and missed all the shenanigans of rampaging dogs and very early risers. Apparently The Wee got up at six o'clock to let their wild dog out to pee. Bert says it was five am but he's not taking British Summer Time into consideration. Our new dog Roy had fallen deeply in love with The Wee's dog so when The Wee Manny took Harry out to answer the call of nature Roy pranced out behind him. The Wee did not put Harry on a lead and wild dog took to his beaters and headed over the fields with Roy galumphing behind him. The first Bert knew of it was The Wee Manny standing by his bedside staring down at him, morning fag in his mouth, muttering,

Those dogs have run off.

Bert was not very delighted. Luckily I slept through it all and was not aware that there was anything wrong.

They turned up. Harry was found by neighbours who tied him up and phoned The Wees. Bert went out searching for Roy and discovered him in a derelict house about a mile from our place. It has to be said that Bert has talent for finding lost dogs. There was that time that he found Rosie, the Dirty Rotten Scunging Devil-Dog in a hedge with her paw caught in a snare. How he managed to spot Roy skulking round that old house I do not know.

Bert got him home safe and he has been a little out of sorts all day but, as Bert said, that was a lot of exercise for an old fat house dog like the Royster.

The old house where Roy was hiding. It's much more overgrown now.

Cattle, Kittens and Baby Pigs

My Flickr photograph with the second most views is this one of Rusty and Lily when they were very small indeed. They are nowhere near as cute these days. This picture has had 3,042 views. As far as I know it has not been nicked, not according to Tineye anyway.

This one of Holly sleeping in the decoration box is my most viewed picture with 6,835 views. It has also been widely 'borrowed'. I've found it on Christmas sites, interior decoration sites, Pinterest and, of course, lots of cat lover sites. For some reason it is very popular in Russia. It is also rated the second most interesting picture. 

And just to keep the thing going, here is a link to my number one most interesting picture. Bunch of cattle standing in a field, 1,942 views. Yawn.

https://www.flickr.com/photos/17223773@N00/2605884758/

Supper Party Head-the-Balls

The plan was that today, the 1st of April, I'd be publishing and commenting upon my most viewed and most interesting Flickr photographs. This will not be happening as our oldest friends, the Wees, are here for supper, and life and alcohol has totally got in the way. Things are rather chaotic. Mrs The Wee brought her new rescue dog, who is very sweet and has shat twice and pissed twice, both times copiously and, as I cleaned it up, I couldn't help reflecting on my patience and all round good-eggedness. Truth, I could write a book about it all but not until everyone (except me) is dead and buried. Did I mention that Mrs The Wee fell while she was out walking her new dog and has a lump the size of a bantie's egg on the back of her head? I retired to bed while she pondered excuses not to go to work tomorrow. The best  one was that she actually died. Everyone agreed that would work.

As for the Flickr photographs, one was a cute one of a kitten sleeping in a Christmas decoration box and the other was some cows. Lowest common denominator strikes again.

And a very happy birthday to my youngest brother Joe. Fifty something again.

The Olden Days Revisited

Last day of the month and, boy, was it a stinker. Lashing rain, sleet and high winds. thankfully, apart from a little bit of yard work, I was able to stay indoors for nearly all the day. We had few callers (yippee!) just my brother and partner collecting their Jack Russell we'd been minding while they had a little break. And Clint but I managed to avoid him as I was watching House of Cards which is beginning to find its form after a slow start.

Tomorrow is the first of April so there will have to be more seed-sowing action in the poly tunnel. There are a few bits and pieces sown but the to-sow list is rather long.

Today Flickr's 31st most viewed picture is this house in the olden days.

Springhill in the Sixties (596 views on Flickr) 

The 31st most interesting picture is of Nelly in the olden days. The long hot summer of 1977, my first trip to London. Still rocking plaid flannel shirts. 288 views on Flickr.

I remember the photograph was taken by Margaret Donnelly, a young innocent  from County Kildare. She confessed to me that the reason she befriended me was because she wanted to learn how to drink alcohol, smoke cannabis and have sex. On our return to London we wrote for a while. Imagine it! The days of writing letters. She was planning to enlist in the RAF and, eventually, I lost touch with her. No Facebook, y'see. Those were certainly the days.

The Wall

Katy, Hannah and Zoe, sometime in the 90s. 365 views so far...

...and the 30th most interesting photograph on my Flickr account on 30/03/15. That's my three girls in Dreen, perhaps taking a break from a game of rounders. Clint has all those trees cut down now and cattle sheds where they stood. In my uni days I used to walk up the road from the train and look for the first glimpse of the trees and feel so proud that I lived in such a wooded place. Clint said the trees were diseased but what really bothered him was the amounts of leaves that dropped in Autumn. The trees were a delight but, it has to be said, his cattle sheds are very fine too. He cut down the trees and dismantled the dry stone wall that Bert's father built. Said it was 'full of rat's nests'. It wasn't.

Johnny building the stone wall

 Summer wall

Winter wall

I was so cross with Clint for getting rid of that wall but it's been a long time and I had to let it go. I have the photographs and my memories.

 And Finally.  Look! Those girls were only following in their mother's fashion footsteps with that flannel checked shirt look. It wasn't the Seattle grunge scene a-tall.

A Damp Sunday

When I opened the door of the chicken house this morning the new hens, all seven of them, flew into my face. It was rather worrying. Now I know how Tippi Hedren felt.

We have Martha and Evie here on a sleepover tonight. We sowed seeds, baked biscuits and watched Puss in Boots. I got them off to bed in good time so Nellybert could watch Poldark. At around the three-quarter mark the two girls trooped into the kitchen and on to my lap as bright as two buttons. And there they stayed until the show was over. Evie remarked that Poldark 'looks like Fergus'. I must remember to tell Auntie Hannah that one.

Baking biscuits

Tonight the 29th most viewed photograph on my Flickr is one that the Kerry Sister took many years ago.

Seamus and Katy

This must have been in an odd-shaped frame at some point. It is one of my favourite photographs of Daddy and has been viewed 615 times. My other favourite picture of him was also a Kerry Sister picture and it hangs upstairs.

The picture of Evie and the stuffed hedgehog has moved to 29th most interesting so I won't use it again. I often wonder how Flickr decides these things.

So, that was my damp Sunday, the first day of Spring, brightened only by grandchildren, Poldark and a lovely phone call from Katy. Tomorrow will also be a rainy day. I'm not sure how I shall spend it apart from grandchildren and making food and poking around my photo archives.

Spring Forward

The clocks go forward tonight and, apart from taking note of that momentous fact, I have very little to write about. Except....

We introduced the new hens to the old hens. The rooster was beside himself to be presented with seven virgins. He literally did not know where to begin. So far they all appear to be getting on well, but knowing chickens there will be at least one in Coventry tomorrow.

The house is full of men playing banjos, guitars and clarinets. I fed them mince and onion pie and and steamed syrup pudding and now I'm ignoring them.

I'm slowing plodding through House of Cards Season 3. What is Doug up to? Will Freddy get his revenge?

I have fallen in love with Flickr once more and to celebrate that and March 28 here are some pictures.

Number 28 in the most viewed category. 631 views so far. Using 'wellies' as a tag increases hits.

Number 28 in the Interestingness category. Evie meets Mrs Tiggywinkle in the Ulster Museum. Now must go show my face in the music room. House of Cards isn't really grabbing me this season.

On Reading Books

One great disadvantage of a rural childhood was not having access to the public library. There was a library of sorts at our primary school but one large cardboard box would have held all that it contained. Our teacher Cassie was horrible and we only got to read occasionally. I don't remember being allowed to choose the books either. She'd just give one to us and that was that. The only book I remember from school was The Wind In The Willows and I recall being really confused at the part where Pan appears to Mole and Ratty and feeling much easier when the story returned to the adventures of Toad.

At home there never seemed to be enough books because we all read them so fast. I usually got first go at fresh books because I was the oldest. Our mother must have noticed this. She returned one day from shopping in Ballymena with a book for my younger sister, also a voracious reader. The book Matty brought for Anne was My Friend Flicka by Mary O'Hara. She informed us that Anne would get to read it first, then it would be her turn and, after that, the book was up for grabs. I could hardly bear having to wait but wait I did. Matty stood firm. My Friend Flicka was the first book in a trilogy and Matty also bought the next two, Thunderhead and The Green Grass of Wyoming. Anne got first dibs on those as well. They were a terrific read and well worth waiting for.

Christmas time brought great reading opportunities. Everyone got one or two books at Christmas, usually Puffin or Armada paperbacks and these would be hidden away with the other presents. I'd search the house until I found the stash of books, usually hidden on the high shelf in her wardrobe. For several days every chance I got, I'd be up there, standing beside the wardrobe in our parent's bedroom reading hungrily, nervous, praying not to be discovered. And I never was.

Of course when Christmas Day arrived I hadn't a thing to read and I used to look jealously on Anne as she sat there enjoying her new books. Much later when I confessed all to Matty she said it explained a lot for she could never understand why I showed so little interest in the Christmas books.

It's often a thankless task being a parent. Imagine my poor mother carefully picking out my books only to see me ignore them. I hadn't even the sense to pretend to read them. I wonder would she have preferred to know then that she had reared a sneak without a notion how to defer gratification despite the lesson with the Mary O'Hara trilogy.

Sometime soon I shall explain why it is that I particularly love dusty old books. 

The Buzz About Buzzards

About this time nine years ago I was obsessed with buzzards. Here are two of the three posts I wrote on the 23rd of March 2009. The third one was more about eBay and computer problems and missing out on a buzzard print so I haven't included it.

THURSDAY, MARCH 23, 2006

Colin

Buzzard
Originally uploaded by Wyrd.

Bert! What's a honey buzzard?

You don't get them here. They're mostly Southern English. Maybe the odd one passing through but not generally.

So what do you call the ones we have here?

Colin.

Later

How do you spell Colin? One L or two?

I was only winding you up.

Silence....then

Suppose I'd put that in my blog and made a right fool of myself!

Buzz, Buzz, Buzzard

There are a pair of buzzards are living near us and they can be spotted most days. Today while Hannah and I were driving down the road we saw one swoop down on prey in the corner of a field just beside the road. I was delighted to get such a close view. I said to Hannah,

Wow! We were lucky to see that.

Wasn’t so lucky for whatever it was got caught.

Oh well. That’s nature. Poor you moving to the town. All the wildlife you’ll see there will be mangy cats, scabby pigeons and rats.

Don’t care.

When Katy was little she asked Bert this,

Why do they call them buzzards? Is it because they make a buzzing sound?

If we’d have been decent parents we’d have got the bird books out and arranged a visit to the Natural History Museum, stimulated the child’s interest and stuff like that. Instead we laughed our legs off at her, gave her a complex and slagged her about it to this very day. My idea of a fun natural history lesson was telling Hannah all about the savage child eating bears that lived in the (local) woods. May God forgive me for I doubt the weans ever will.

St Joseph's Day Eve

Yesterday was St Patrick's Day and this Irish woman was exceedingly underwhelmed by it all. It means very little to me these days.

Bert and the Wee Manny were returning from Fanad and Bert was outraged to discover that Kilrea was blocked off and he had to take a detour through Ballymoney to get home. The Derry branch of the Ancient Order of Hibernians were marching and he would have had to wait 30 minutes for the parades to pass.

And did it ever even occur to you to park the van, go up the town, get yourselves a pint of Guinness apiece? You might have got the barman to draw a wee shamrock in the foam and you could have watched the parade go by.

I had never heard of the Hibernians until my cousin Joseph joined the White Hill Accordion Band. They weren't much chatted about in Tannaghmore. Anyway, after Mass on a rainy St Patrick's Day way back in the 1960s, Daddy took a couple of us to Randalstown to watch the parade. I was very excited. I imagined it would be full of pomp and glory like the Orange Parades that we weren't really supposed to like. It wasn't. Just a dozen or so little grey men with solemn faces and bunches of shamrock pinned to their lapels, two carrying a small banner and the White Hill Accordion Band. Cousin Joe never even looked at us. It was most disappointing.

Tomorrow is St Joseph's Day. Not a lot of people pay any attention to his feast day but I intend to celebrate it. I'll do something with wood. Chop it into kindlers maybe. Get some fig rolls in. Open a bottle of wine.

Motherless Sunday

Mother's Day again. There are yellow and purple flower buds unfurling on the kitchen table. There was chocolate too which was shared with Bert in the very earliest hours of Mothering Sunday. But, as always, this is Matty's day even though she is not with us any more.

There are so many of us today mindful of our dead mothers. On Friday a young friend called round and he mentioned that his son, aged six, was having a difficult week. At school all the talk was of making Mother's Day cards but his mum died suddenly about a year ago. He chose not to make a card. It's sad for us grown-ups but how much harder it must be for a little child.

My mother Martha with her granddaughter Katy

This is one of my most cherished photographs of  my mother who would have been my current age at the time it was taken. So - I'm wishing a happy Mother's Day to all us mothers and sending caring thoughts for all the motherless children.

It's Bert's first Motherless Sunday too.

Half A Dozen Eggs

How did it get to be Friday already? This week has been a funny one weather-wise. Divinely spring-like on Tuesday. I worked outside and discovered that Roy likes to explore. And that his exploring includes the road! We had to put a temporary gate up which displeased a number of callers. I felt a teeny bit bad about it but Bert enjoyed taking visitors out of their comfort zone. Roy is going to get extensive training regarding the lane way. He needs to know it is a forbidden area.

Bert and I also had a difference of opinion about egg donations. We like to give eggs to our friends yet I also like to be able to make an omelette or a cake using free range eggs. I was delighted to find, on returning from picking Martha up from the school bus, that my new Magimix replacement bowl had arrived in the post. Far less delighted to find that, in my absence, Bert had given away all the eggs. So, no point in keeping those leftovers for a Spanish omelette and out the window goes any plans for a cake. We had the same discussion a week previously but when I speak I hear sounds coming out of my mouth something like this,

Bert, I'd like you to make sure that there are always six eggs in the egg rack. More than that then give them away to your heart's content.

He hears this,

Drone, drone, drone, blah-blah-blah, yadda-yadda-yadda.

So that was the past few days, minding dogs, arguing about eggs, bit of gardening. I sure do lead an exciting life.

Dogs and Children

Evie delights in collecting eggs

Nellybert have enjoyed a very doggy and children rich few days. We had Miss Evie as usual on Thursday and she had a play date with the three Miss Liddys. Four girls all at once can be intense. I was rather hollow-eyed when everyone went home, Bert was not as tired as I was as he'd spent a nice, relaxing afternoon digging holes in a field.

 Martha plans her next move

Friday I spent in Belfast and on Saturday was The Sleepover. That went very well. The girls are obsessed with Little House on the Prairie. Martha is Mary, Evie is Laura and Nellybert are Ma and Pa. Mary Ingalls got frustrated with Laura Ingalls because Laura wouldn't go with her to the creek to catch catfish. So she hit Laura (Evie) with a pink handbag. There was a bit of consoling and then, when the dust settled I suggested Mary (Martha) should go fishing with Pa (Bert). This was agreed.

As Bert described it,

I had to stand with her waving bamboo canes over  a puddle for ages.

But it was worth it for they caught lots of catfish and flatfish and salmon and we had them for our supper. Well actually we had stew but we added the pretend fish to it and enjoyed it very much.

In the middle of all this was Roy, the new dog. It is probably not recommended that a dog should be introduced to a new home on the same weekend that little children are sleeping over. Nevertheless it worked out well for us. Roy is sevenish, far too fat and very gentle and friendly. I am sure he is going to enjoy living here.

Bert's Aunt Nessie got him as as a pup.  But then Nessie became ill and died before he was a year old. She got her partner Paddy to promise that he would look after Roy. Then Paddy had a fall, broke his hip and started a decline. He is in his mid-80s now and it looks that he will not be going home. His carer got in touch with us to ask our advice as to what should be done with his dogs. Paddy had four! Bert, knowing of the promise Paddy had made to Nessie, immediately offered to take Roy. Another little dog, a terrier and Roy's companion, will be going to the Dog's Trust. The other two were outdoor dogs, collies that were likely palmed off on Paddy and dogs that he was never able to look after properly. They were never trained and are quite vicious. They will be taken into the care of the local council and will probably be put to sleep.

Poor old Roy has lost his master and his long-time dog companion. Things are changing for him. He is very focussed on food and judging by his claws and coat he has spent very little time out of doors. But he likes people, has been around children (thanks to Paddy's carer) and most important of all, gets on really well with other dogs.

Needless to say Jess and Judy are rather miffed but I expect they will get used to it.

It seems Roy is the sort of dog who goes on the furniture.

Friday, Saturday, New Dog Day

Hannah and I went to Belfast yesterday. Bert was forced from his bed at an unnatural hour to take me into Ballymena to be early for my train. Hannah was still brushing her teeth but we managed to make the eleven o'clock with ten minutes to spare.

Mainly we just looked at things although Hannah bought a couple of books for her course. We explored Botanic Avenue and Smithfield Market but were unable to find Keats & Chapman. It was an easy and relaxing day.

Today might be different. Evie and Martha are coming for a sleepover. And we are getting another dog. It is not ideal that these two things happen on the same day for Roy (the dog) is a bit of an unknown quantity. The girls were asked before the dog thing happened so, in my opinion, neither can be cancelled.

There is a story behind Roy which I'll tell when I've met him.

A Farewell To Holly

Today was a very busy day for this retired lady of leisure with three entries in the diary. In the afternoon I had a dog delivery to make. Ziggy was to be returned to his owner after his regular Monday to Tuesday sleepover. His owner Miss Hannah and I had a coffee date and, as his habit, Ziggy remained in the van and got the hazard lights going to alert all passers by that it would be seriously hazardous to their health if they should attempt to steal his vehicle.

The evening brought the boys to our house for Music Night. I served them home made sausage rolls and chocolate fairy cakes. They particularly enjoyed the fairy cakes.

But, before all this, we had a dog funeral. The Wee Manny's dog was put to sleep last night. Holly was really Mrs The Wee Manny's dog and she was devastated to lose her but Holly had a good long life. She was a black Labrador cross, a rescue dog that they'd got more than a dozen years ago. The Wee brought her round this morning to be buried in our garden. The list is growing. I wrote about our pet cemetery back in 2008.

Friday, October 31, 2008

Dowsing For Dogs

...dogs we know are buried there are in order of interment:-

Polly: sweetest little Jack Russell cross. Given to Pearlie soon after she was widowed. The girls never forgave us for parting. She only lasted a few months before succumbing to the horror movie that is the Dreen Road.

Molly: Died February 2004, Springer spaniel just arrived in Nellybert's yard. Unknown to us she was riddled with cancer. We kept her six months. I adored her. We spent a fortune at the vet. Eventually had to have her put down.

Danny: Best. Dog. Ever. Nellybert's first beloved pooch. Committed suicide under the wheels of Bert's van sometime in 2004. He was nearly seventeen.

Penny: She was Pearlie's dog. Died on Christmas Eve aged around fourteeen. Her demise marked the beginning of Pearlie's decline.

Chip: Not our dog but Danny's mother. Eighteen when her owners had her put down. They had nowhere to bury her. We had all the room in the world.

Jock: Not our dog either but the beloved pet of the Wee Mannys.

Rosie: Died October 2008. She won't be the last but she was the first to have a dozen or so narcissi planted on her grave.

And since then....

Hannah's rats - Rocky, Pepe, Polly and Meka. They have their own special plot in front of the green house. It's teeny.

Five more dogs.

Peppy: Belonged to our friend Rod. She was a frequent visitor to our house. He still stops by her grave.

Paddy: Died February 2012.

Charlie: Died June 2012.

Bonnie: Died June 2013.

Holly: Buried today. Much loved pet of Mrs The Wee Manny.

Holly and her companion Rocky. 

Watch Out! There's A Thief About.

Anyone who keeps a dog about the place will know that there are things that dogs find disagreeable.

They dislike strangers coming around. Friends are absolutely fine and must be welcomed with jumps,  excited yips and leaping on to coffee tables all the better to see them. Then when the visitor is settled down they must be snuggled against, looked at adoringly and thoroughly inspected for morsels of food or tennis balls about their person. But strangers may not even get out of their car for fear of the menacing dog circling their vehicle. If the stranger is brave and gets out anyway then that stranger must be a friend  and will be treated accordingly.

They do not like cats being paid attention to. If anyone should be stroking a cat, giving it a treat or having a pleasant conversation with it, the dog must immediately leave its comfortable sofa, go to where the cat is being made much of and glare at it in a very overbearing manner.

And they can see no sense in very small children holding food. They have no problem with bigger humans having food and eating it in their presence but how can anyone reasonably expect them not to take food of a tiny child who dangles it in front of their noses. I remember our first dog Danny meeting a woman pushing a small child in a pram. We both noticed that the child was clutching a very melty Mars Bar. A moment later the melty bar was in Danny's mouth. The child made no protest. I think he was glad to be rid of it. I didn't know then that chocolate is very bad for dogs but it didn't do him a pin of harm and he lived at least another ten years.

Just like Danny before her, Judy deeply disapproves of toddlers owning food. Yet she is also aware that I disapprove of her removing food from little ones. This is why she is looking so sneaky in the photograph. She hopes I am distracted both by my camera and the the black hen. She was disappointed. Evie got to keep her pancake on this occasion.

Now Evie is two years older and not little any more. She is 'a big girl' and very well able to keep Judy in her place.

Revisiting the Past

Sorting out the photographs on my external hard drive has me living in the past and tonight I'm back in 2011. I wondered what was happening on this day four years ago and as there is this online diary thing called Nelly's Garden I was able to find out in just a few clicks. It seems I was right here in Springhill after spending a short spell in Drumkeeran looking after Matty.

Things weren't working out exactly as I'd hoped.

Saturday, February 26, 2011

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.

A Visit To Asia Supermarket

My young friend and fellow blogger Hails loves Korean food and the last time we were in Belfast we visited Cafe Arirang on Botanic Avenue. Hails was more than pleased with it and I was glad of her advice as to what would be good to eat as she was familiar with all the dishes on offer. As she should be having spent quite a few years living in South Korea.

I asked her if she'd ever visited the Asia Supermarket on the Ormeau Road. She hadn't so we made a plan to go as soon as we could. Today was that day and as we neared it I said,

You're going to dance with joy when you see this place.

And her feet were jigging before we even got inside. She could smell the lovely spicy aroma as we approached the door.

Of course she knew what everything was. When we left Hails was loaded with ingredients and I'd got a few bits and pieces myself. I idly enquired what her plans for the evening were and she answered,

Cooking Korean food!

Of course. Silly question.

At Cafe Arirang I had 만두 and I didn't catch what Hails had but it came with 김치 and she polished it off with much enjoyment.

만두 - mandu or steamed dumplings

김치 - kimchi or fermented cabbage

When I got home Bert raided my shopping bag as usual and fell to the dried seaweed and kimchi with gusto. We had to decant the kimchi into a Kilner jar as we feared its pungency would affect everything else in the fridge. Apparently in Korea people have dedicated kimchi fridges but that is because they make a years supply at one go.

So what did Nellybert have for supper? We had bacon, spuds and peas although Bert did have a side of kimchi with his.

And What Of The Pigs?

My Facebook posts concerning the little black pigs. 

7th February. I wonder if anyone knows of a lost Vietnamese Pot-Bellied pig? Very young. It is running terrified through fields near Cullybackey. We have tried to find it but have not been successful. It was found in a shed in a farm off the Kilrea line but escaped before it could be taken to a place of safety. I wonder if the poor thing has been dumped. Unwanted Christmas present perhaps? If so, the person who dumped it is a horrible, uncaring, stupid piece of shit. If that piglet doesn't get to a place of safety it will die very soon.

8th February. Bert has been searching for the abandoned pig. Sighted it today and there are two of them! This gives them a better chance of survival. We have hopes that they will be brought to safety. If they cannot be captured and they are boy and girl there may soon be herds of wild pigs roaming the hedgerows and plantations of Cullybackey.

9th February. And then there were three! All boars so it is likely that they were abandoned by the breeder.

10th February. Man arrived in yard today to ask if we had lost two black pigs. Two piglets sighted in another area. The thing is, are they two of the original trio or, are there 5 of them? Bert has gone to search the place where we first saw them.

11th February. Two callers to the yard yesterday, both hoping that the abandoned pigs were our responsibility. Two sighted on another farm frightening sheep and scaring the horses. The authorities have been contacted and vets are trying to locate them. It won't end well for the pigs and it will cost DARD money, probably quite a lot. And all because a breeder off-loaded his/her responsibilities on to other people. I hope this person is found and prosecuted.

12th February. Five pigs spotted today! At least one was a sow.

And then it all went very quiet. This is what I think happened. The pigs weren't unwanted pets. They had not been abandoned by a breeder. They most likely belonged to a near neighbour of the lady who first contacted us. It seems they had simply escaped from a poorly fenced paddock and were happily exploring the surrounding countryside. The lady, let's call her Suzie, approached the likely pig-owner and he said that they couldn't possibly be his pigs as he counted them every night and they were all present and correct. I'd guess that if he had been counting them during the day the roll-call would have shown a few absentees. Since Suzie called with him the pigs have not been seen.  So I reckon he is keeping them indoors. Poor little pigs. They must have been having the time of their lives exploring the surrounding townlands.

It brings to mind that Van Morrison song.

When it's nobody's business the way that you want to live

I just have to remember there'll be days like this 

Crazy Jack and the Chickpeas

So, after I cleaned my grubby spice rack the next spot to tackle was the store cupboard. While there were no unpleasant surprises in the larder there were some elderly dried goods such as an unopened 2kg bag of chickpeas older than Martha. The cupboard was crammed with chickpeas both dried and tinned and obviously we never eat them except for that time Bert took a great notion of making hummus. The 2kg bag will be used as animal feed and I'll have to hoke out that hummus recipe for Bert.

The oldest item in the cupboard was the organic brown rice. If that packet of unopened brown rice were a child it would be at secondary school by now. What kind of idiot lets packets of food sit on her shelves for endless years? What type of deluded fool keeps buying chickpeas and then has them languish in her cupboard for over a decade? If it were another person with a store of ancient food in their pantries I'd call that person a food hoarder.

If anyone has any delicious recipes where chickpeas are one of the main ingredient please let me know.

Smoked Paprika Weevil

I decided to give my spice rack a long overdue cull. I remember Katy buying the smoked paprika for a chicken dish she prepared for her Northern Irish friends shortly before her wedding. It didn't seem that long ago but when I think of it, Miss Martha was actually a babe in arms and she is in her sixth year now.

That was a great evening. Delicious food, good company and the best of craic.  And nearly five years ago. That smoked paprika definitely was up for review. I opened it, sniffed it. Hardly any aroma. Much as I expected. But what was that? A grain of rice? A grain of rice that wriggled? It was a grub. I called Bert in to see. You should keep that, he said. See what it turns into.

No thanks! I don't think I want to see the kind of creature that pupates in hot pepper. Seems devilish. I sieved the paprika to see if there were any more. There wasn't. I took a photograph then flung the larva into the yard. See how it manages in a cold, wet, Irish February far away from its beloved paprika.

Naturally I Googled this and apparently it is not uncommon to find larvae in old paprika. It is actually best to keep it in the fridge. Who knew?

What I Learned

In my first year at the University of Ulster our class had a Friday afternoon lecture with the controversial eugenicist, Professor Richard Lynn. The subject of the  lecture  was an introduction to Psychology and it was mind-numbingly tedious. There was no hint of Lynn's particular areas of interest apart from his scanning the group looking for North-East Asian faces. He once called one of our friends down after the lecture to enquire after her ethnicity. She told us afterwards that he seemed disappointed to find out that despite her being from Vietnam her family actually had a Chinese background.

As I said, the lecture was extremely dull and I found myself half asleep during it. Little wonder I only got a 2:2. However Professor Lynn did teach me something that term, something I have never forgotten.

He was lecturing us on anxiety disorders and depression. He was speaking of anxiety and how it can consume one. He said,

Each of you this afternoon has a worry. Something that is troubling you greatly. I will tell you this - when we meet in this lecture hall next Friday, you will not be thinking about your present worry, you will be worrying about something else altogether!

And I thought about my worry. Probably something about an overdue assignment. And on the following Friday I cast my mind back. The Professor was right. I wasn't the least bit concerned about last week's problem. I was worrying about something new.

That has comforted me so many times when I have had a niggling, troubling concern. I just tell myself that in seven days time it won't be concerning me at all so why worry now?

Three Little Pigs In The Big Bad World

So there were these two little abandoned pigs wandering the fields and hedgerows of deepest, darkest Cullybackey. Bert and I went out this morning to fetch them out and feed them finest kind pig food with a view to their rescue and rehabilitation. We took one dog only, our Jess for she is good at sniffing out pigs and, unlike Judy, she does not hate the porcine race.

She did her work, sniffed them out and over the crest of a hill appeared one pig and the other. Then another. Three of the beggars! Bert emptied out the pig meal and they all tucked in. The way they were scoffing it was obvious that they were no stranger to meal and that it had been more than a day or two since they'd had any. They might be three or four months, all the same age, litter mates for sure and they are all boars. They've been dumped by the person who bred them.

This is a big problem. No one wants boars. If they were to go for pets they'd need to be castrated and that should have happened already.

I'm not sure what is going to happen. But we're not giving up on them yet. Whatever the outcome is they are going to be fed.

So we'll be back tomorrow. Fingers and trotters crossed there won't be four of them standing there.

Here Be Pigs

We were contacted yesterday by friends of a friend to find out if we were missing a pig. An exotic specimen had turned up in the yard of another of their friends. This lady kept horses and her horses were mortally afraid of pigs. This seemed odd to me but it seems that many horses are wary of pigs. Out of curiosity and some concern for the pig we agreed to go check it out.

The pig was in a huge barn and the five of us strolled in. The pig, a potbelly, was in the corner of the barn. It was only a baby, maybe a few months old. Anyway it got spooked and made for the door which was closed but it found a little breach and off it went. Pigs are great escapologists. The last we saw it was haring up the side of a hedge. Bert decided to take to the fields to see if he could find it but had no success. I met him in Clint's yard. This lady's place was a mile or two by road but only a couple of field lengths as the crow flies.

We were cross with ourselves because that time in the shed was our best chance of capturing it. I must say it preyed on both our minds that poor wee thing was out in the open without food or shelter. I was angry too with whoever had owned it because it seemed very likely that it had been abandoned. It was just about the right age to have been small and cute at Christmas time. Perhaps it was a gift that turned out unsuitable. The practice of dumping unwanted pets is common here and over the years I've come across it many times. Our big ginger cat, Fred, was actually dumped from a car in the Doagh Road as I was walking there.

What do people be thinking of when they do that? Do they think that their unwanted pet will be picked up by a kind stranger and taken in? I've been that kind stranger on a number of occasions but, believe me, there are not enough kind strangers to go round. A few years back Bert had to scrape a pulverised dog off the road and bury it. He did this on the off chance that it was someone's lost pet and that the sight of it would be too upsetting for them. But no one came looking and it is probable that the dog was dumped on our road and got hit by a car.

The little pig was on our mind and Bert went out with the dogs yesterday evening to see if he could find it. They had no joy. It wasn't a cold evening and we were hopeful that it would survive to live another day. He and his friend went out again today. Máirtín is a city boy and enjoys the things we do here. Dosing calves, potting up clematis, burning stuff , driving tractors and searching for pigs - Máirtín loves it all. Jess led them to the pig, two pigs! Two potbellies grazing at the edge of a copse, enjoying the late winter sun and not overly afraid of humans or dogs. Still too skittish to be caught. They are only a field length away from Clint's place and he says that if they turn up in his wood they can stay!

I'm glad there are two of them. It will increase their chance of survival but I cannot help wondering what is going on. Two dumped pigs or two lost pigs. Will we ever find out?

Happy Birthday Leitrim Sister

A photograph from a few years back featuring the sister and the daughter. Happy birthday Dede!

Protests and Birthdays

Yesterday I went out protesting with Hails from Coffee Helps. It's been a while since I attended such an event. The last time we were all chanting Maggie, Maggie, Maggie, Out, Out, Out!  On that occasion I got my picture on the front page of the Irish News so, needless to say, on Saturday, I dressed with care and made sure I combed my hair. It was a good day. I caught up with Hayley, met some new people and ate Korean food at Cafe Arirang. The protest went well too. About a thousand people turned up which isn't bad for Belfast on a freezing cold January day.

When I got home I found that Bert hadn't as much as lifted a spoon but he had made some great progress playing Stardust on his clarinet. I was too tired to bother with anything so watched a Meryl Streep film and went to bed reasonably early with the Guardian. But before I retired I researched 30 minute clean up on Google. For Kerry Sister is up in the North and she'd be visiting the next day and was keen to see my new private sitting room. And due to the massive clearing out I've been doing there were boxes and boxes of hoardy stuff sitting there and it was all a bit of a mess.

Happy Birthday Brendan. Photograph by Patricia Uí Mhuircheartaigh

This morning I bounced out of bed at a quarter to eight, let all the domestic animals out for a pee in the snow, made coffee, buttered malt loaf and went back to bed for another read of the Guardian. Forty minutes later I bounced back out of bed and started on my 30 minute clean up. I thought it might take a wee bit longer than thirty minutes. First off was put on the laundry, then I had to take a laundry basket and gather up all the clutter. I filled three laundry baskets and this did not include the boxes of Pearlie's old aprons, Bert's old toys and all the birthday cards he received since he was one year old and The Sash His Father Wore. And Johnny's white gloves and all the ribbons that were tied to the ceremonial sword. Bert says I can give the ribbons to Martha and Evie to tie up their bonny brown hair. So darling grandchilder you may look forward to receiving a bunch of ribbons colours red, white, blue, purple and orange.

I did manage to do everything on the 30 minute clean up list and was just wiping the last drip off the floor with my Whizz mop when the Kerry car pulled into the yard and it had only taken me 94 minutes.

All to the good though for the Kerry Sister and myself were able to relax in my clutter free and private sitting room while Bert and the Kerry Man tramped up Slemish in the snow. It was the Kerry Man's birthday and tramping up icy mountains is just the sort of birthday outing he enjoys. Before they left I gave him a lovely present - two bags of County Antrim's finest turf. He was delighted. Who wouldn't be?