Saturday, 19 August 2017

Picking the spent...

flowers of the Morning Glory, all is quiet in the early morning sun.
An enjoyable first task of the day.  My thoughts are given free rein as I look around at this tranquil 300 year old cottage and wonder is moving to a modern eco house a step too far?

All my life I've pushed back the boundaries that have hampered many folk.  Onwards and upwards has been my motto... suddenly now I am having a wobble.
We both agreed that this will be our last home, until a few weeks ago I floated the idea of moving to the sea.

Events have moved fast: we have decided where we want to live, our neighbours have agreed to buy and at the full asking price.
And still the lass isn't happy?

Friday, 18 August 2017

With every fibre of...

my being...
I have to resist picking up wheel hubs of cars found on the highways and byways of this corner of sleepy Kent.
I have a penchant for signs;
only last week I 'lifted' 
a sign...
pointing to the little tucked away church nestling in the hills.
Not content with one sign I happened upon another at the second lane junction... which also found its way home in 
my little car.
Now before you get all uppity, they had been there for weeks so I was sure the guests weren't still driving around lost in the leafy lanes.


I do get my knickers in a twist about houses that advertise a party by hanging balloons on the gate then are too idle to take them in. For weeks after they hang, forlorn, deflated and wrinkly...

This morning my yen to be a bag-lady stirred: just as I was about to go into Waitrose.
There in the litter bin was a copy of ES Magazine which is the 
supplement of the London Evening Standard... a free evening paper given to the good folk of London.
For some reason only known to my inner psyche
I am anyone's for a copy, not 
literally obviously!
Glancing to right and left I carefully removed the banana skin languishing on the top 
and deftly slipped it down my 
left knicker leg... 
Do I need counselling 
I idly wonder?

Thursday, 17 August 2017

Don't you just...

love a car boot?
I do!

The crack of dawn mornings,  the shifty early bird who wants to get stuck in with helping you unpack, in the hope you may any second be unveiling a Ming vase.

The rediscovery of forgotten treasures, the memories they invoke of happier/sadder times.

"The shall I, should I,
maybe keep it till next time?"
Knowing all the while it must go.

All is so good for the soul... 

I don't idly wonder...


Tuesday, 15 August 2017

The thing is...

I am spoilt...
Why I don't know? 
It sure isn't my
winning ways, my svelte like figure, my engaging conversation.
It could be because I'm an oik, say it like it is, or to be more precise... say it like I see it.

The man never ceases to be amazed at the many and various conversations I get into with all and sundry who happen to cross my path... I wouldn't mind but I'm not even Irish!
I have the desire to clap
everyone to my ample bosom and give 'em a hug.  That in my world is the answer to the world's ills... mind you I would draw the line 
at Trump.
I suppose I'm not 
all bad...

Sunday, 13 August 2017

Saturday, 12 August 2017

In the mouse...

quiet of of the house at 6.45am I sit,
glowing with good cheer at the remembrance of a wonderful meal at a Michelin restaurant in a sleepy village in Kent.

Food with friends... what greater joy.
Gossip flying backwards and forwards across the table, no one person hogging the conversation.  Healthy, free and fair, the words flowed.  Talk, the joy of a bygone age without the modern day ping of electronic equipment.
It is so good to be alive.


70 must wait until tomorrow...

What is the...

point of coasters
I idly wonder?
Does anyone use them?
Over the years I have been given so many
from funny ones with comical sheep on, 
flash fancy silverplated, raffia, 
even slices of dried pineapple.
Without a qualm they all get taken to the nearest charity shop.
And still they come...
friends trying to tell me something 
I suspect?


It used to be a joke in the family that 
Auntie Margarine wherever she went used to always buy tea towels as gifts.  I have always poured scorn on such unimaginative presents...until now, 
the onset of official old age has brought about a change.
My heart lifts as I open the cupboard and see neat piles of folded tea towels from John o'
Groats to Lands End.  The potted history of a not forgotten Edwardian Aunt.

What exactly is it about old ladies and piles of linen I wonder?
Any ideas? 

Thursday, 10 August 2017

Just sat...

after a morning's sorting out for the charity shops and clothes bank.
Holier than thou is how I feel.

This moving is sooo good for the soul.
Suddenly you see the crud, the cobwebs, the dust, the champagne corks (fib!)

On Monday the estate agents come for our photo shoot... for a nanosecond I can dream as I await their arrival, I'm a super model instead of a slut...

Monday, 7 August 2017

Food parcels...

it's what I do!
No idea!
Up early this morning, I've packed the birthday parcel up...
a sticky gingerbread with spicy rum icing
Cheesey oatcakes (not hugely successful)
Jar of pickled onions
Crab Apple Jelly

All off to the Highlands
Oatcakes to Scotland?
Bit like coals to Newcastle...
Am I totally mad I idly wonder?
What state the contents arrive in I've no idea... I am assured they survive the journey... one day they won't!

Saturday, 5 August 2017

Are we making...

the right decision to move?
Last Sunday I floated the idea of living by the coast?  Fully expecting the man to say no!  Strangely he was very receptive to the idea.  As we walked and talked, we spied across the village green a dear friend, an ex army officer, who with two sticks walked at a pace to put a snail to shame.  We fell into step chatting all the way.  The upshot of what he was saying was sadly after all the happy years in the village they were being forced to move by his increasing frailty 

'We should have done it sooner, before it was forced on us!' 

 We looked at each other and thought this exactly echos what we were thinking... do it now before events overtake you.  Robin didn't know how fortuitous his words were.   

His wife checking his 
progress popped out of the hedge looking for all the world like a rabbit bobbing out of Watership Down.  We helped him into the car and off we walked with far more resolution in our step!  

Perhaps now is the time before it is too late... 

Oh the joys of getting old I idly thought!

In the arms of...

Tom Courtenay!
In that snoozy place between waking and sleeping this is where I found myself.

Is this the quality of fantasies an old girl can expect I idly wonder?

Not that I'm complaining, mind!
He is a sexy man and I do have a soft spot for
Yorkshire men.

Picking the spent...

flowers of the Morning Glory, all is quiet in the early morning sun. An enjoyable first task of the day.  My thoughts are given free rein ...