Just wish I...

wasn’t so revolting!

All my life from ban the bomb onwards I have been there in the thick of it.  The last demo I was on was outside the Chilcott Inquiry when Tony Blair gave evidence.  The husband was concerned for my safety as he posted me off on the train.  Me, well I felt young again as I walked up Whitehall with my black pashmina carefully appliquéd with

Bliar !  The apostrophes were red hands dripping with blood.  Holding it aloft the SAS would have been proud of my marching drill as I stepped smartly out.

You can just about see the pashmina in the photo.

Today, after watching this week’s tv programme about the war on plastic, I decided to strike.  Himself dropped me off in full commando gear, oh, alright a summery dress... it’s soo blooming hot here!  I bought the essentials and in the supermarket carefully decanted them loose into my shopping bag. All the plastic was put in one of their plastic
shopping bags with the words.

‘I love your produce but NOT your excess use of plastic!’

Hashtag... OurPlasticFeedback .

The thing is from there the only thing I really like is their very flavoursome upmarket tomatoes, so that was a fib, however I wanted to make a point!  I asked to see the manager, who luckily was there,  As I presented him with the company’s ‘buggering up the ocean’s bounty’, he I thought, seemed singularly unimpressed, however as I

 walked away I felt from little acorns oak trees grow.

Living in the foodie town of Ludlow I will buy all produce loose from the small shops and the market. Just wish I didn’t have a conscience, next I will be worrying about all the ruddy trees that are being felled to make all the flaming brown paper bags!?!

The plates of the...

 earth move in mysterious ways. Ensuring new people enter your orbit, you theirs, to cement a friendship that will stand the test of time.  If you tried to stage-manage it Sod’s law says it wouldn’t work quite as well.  Today a friend came I met via the blogging world, in a relatively short time we have become good chums.  In the normal blogging course of events I prefer to keep my powder dry and let folk have their opinion of me from afar and not spoil it by my size six feet of clay.  Am I alone in this I wonder?

We had a lovely catch-up, since last we met a good while ago it was as if the world had stood still, the mark of a true friend.

 I went to a workshop in 2014 and a lady there said are you Lettice?  It was an odd feeling to be unmasked, is it just me or do you have the same desire to hide behind your blogging persona?

‘Let me ask you...

something, how do you sleep at night?’

It all started off so well, the phone rang, I answered and a very polite gentleman said

‘Good afternoon Ma’am!’  

That put my back up to start as for years I had to call certain women Ma’am!

‘Good afternoon!’ my cagey reply.

‘How are you today?’

‘Very well thank you!’ by now my dander was inflating at speed as deep inside I just knew exactly where this was going.

‘I am phoning from BT about your broadband!’

Here we go, here we go thought I.

The acoustics in the Orangery are very good added to which after years of public speaking I do have a commanding voice...

‘Let me ask you something!’

‘Certainly Ma’am!’

All going well so far, I’m sure he thought.

‘How well do you sleep at night after your day’s work of conning innocent people out of their hard earned life savings?’

Surprisingly the line stayed open, the plug wasn’t pulled, giving me chance to say...

‘When you climb into bed, last thing at night what thoughts go through your head as you drift off?  Do you feel guilt at the turmoil you have caused in peoples’ lives?’

He was listening of that I am sure.  I put the phone down thinking maybe, just maybe?

Who knows? 

Hanging onto the...

trolley I laughed fit to bust.

Trailing along behind, the husband kindly enquired what had caused my mirth?

‘Do you realise what you have just said?’

‘No, tell me?’

‘She’s a nice young woman!’  I replied, between the hiccups of chuckles.

He was referring to the girl who had been so helpful in Waitrose.

Oh dear, is it something in the water of Ludlow, I wonder?

Regular readers will hopefully get this?

The cartoon doesn’t quite fit the content of this post, it made me smile so here it is.

We planted a...

vine in the Wrenery. Overnight it has grown 

2 cm, hard to believe I know.

The rose I pruned hard back leaving lots of blooms for the bees outside, you may be able to see them?

My plans of not doing anything in the garden for a year seem to be biting the dust, as all

 the plants in the garden seem to be working to a romping agenda.
In a smallish garden we have three arches, one at the top of the steps and two others opposite each other each side of the garden.
  Both have very rampant clematis and one a deep red climbing rose which is struggling to make its presence felt.  Balls we have aplenty, mainly box with two huge yew, at least I think that’s what they are although their rate of growth may mean they’re not?  An illustration of the rate of growth in the eight weeks we’ve been here.

We also have three standard holly bushes which are magnificent.  They will only get better as they don their winter rig of 

scarlet.

A little snapshot of a bijou garden.

Looking back at me...

in the mirror was Alice Cooper.

Mascara ran in rivulets down my chops.

Before you think I was heartsick let me tell you the reason... mirth.

In an email I was explaining to my stepdaughter (who incidentally calls me WSM, no idea why?) about the two nice young lads that came to sort out my plumbing!?!

‘What are you like eh?’ was her reply followed on with this link

https://youtu.be/C2hgAsi8Ae4

Hope it works?  Knowing my technical ineptitude it probably won’t, and as for me doing a John Gray and wanging the piece straight on ready for you to just hit... play, all too techie for one so simple!

Give it a go, I nearly had a fit when I played it, talk about close to home and she had the neck to say about the plates of sandwiches... as if!!?!!

My daughter-in-law says her WMinL never knowingly under caters!

Well I don’t mind admitting as the words

now spring into my mouth, before they even reach my tonsils I swallow and change the subject.  Even the husband is highly amused and winds me up... 

What’s a girl to do, I ask you?

* No, it didn’t work... no surprise there?
The clip is called 
‘Saucy old ladies and the gas man!’
Says it all really...
** Don’t look now but I think I’ve actually done it, nobody, but nobody is more amazed than me!

I am conscious...

 I haven’t posted for a while.  So many madcap 

dreams and schemes going through my head.  My trouble is I have Grandiose through my veins, like Brighton through rock!  It is exciting when finally we have found such a lovely place to call home.  As we wander the highways and byways of Ludlow we are like kiddies in a sweetie shop, eyes like gob-stoppers marvelling at the treats in store.

My brain full of colours for walls, floors and how best to make use of the space.  The air now is fragrant making it so much easier to think straight.

The garden is burgeoning with growth, we have bought a grape vine to plant outside and train into the Wrenery.  The rose on the left I have pruned hard, just leaving half to flower outside.  This is where the vine will be planted.  The simple wild rose I intend to leave for the hips in the autumn, which will make a colourful display and feed for the birds who are frequent visitors.  I stopped feeding them inside when sadly a young blackbird came in and not used to the setup came a cropper by flying into the glass ceiling.  I have now started feeding again with the view the older birds will be more Wrenery-wise?  The robins and blackbirds are very tame and are quite happy to come and feed this close to the open door.

Trees and garden birds are what I missed so much at Hythe.  What joy they bring.  The feather duster is called into play many times a day... only to shepherd the bees out when they try to exit through the glass!  Added to which standing on guard in the corner of the room it not only looks funky but has a function as well.  Not my usual style over substance... am I losing my touch I idly wonder?

Speak to me about...

coloured wood floor stain...

please.

We are having the bedroom floor sanded. Wooden fitted wardrobes and ash doors, architrave and skirting boards complete the room.  Suddenly I had a thought, with all this wood I might wake up feeling like Goldilocks in the woods after scoffing all the three bears porridge.  Then a bright idea came to mind, I thought I might stain the floor. a lovely soft green.  Has anyone had any experience with staining or painting a wooden floor?  If so I would be pleased to hear your thoughts.

Not this migraine inducing colourful though!

This is the state of the weir thanks to the huge quantities of rain we’ve had.

With snails the...

size of Fiat Puntos, I am just going up to the garden to do a little light extermination!  My newly planted sunflowers need all the help they can get.  The lack of their namesake i.e. sun isn’t going down too well leaving them at the mercy of the marauding beasties.  Loo rolls and baked and crushed eggshells only go so far.  On losing the first specimen I am now wise as to their MO, I ensure there aren’t any overhanging leaves to enable them to parachute in to fill their slippery faces.  In the past the husband blacked up, has under cover of darkness and armed with soft shoes and sledgehammer crept up and waged a counter attack.  We haven’t got to that sorry pass just yet!  when we lived near a busy-ish road I would carefully collect them and bowl them into the path of passing traffic.  Here If I attempted the same trick by the time a vehicle ventured down this sleepy lane the snails would have either been long gone or if they were misguided enough to sit and  await their fate would have grown to the size of 

4 x 4’s.

How silly is...

this?  It seems like I have lit the wood burner 26 times since we have been here and we are not even half way through June.  I looked in last year’s diary expecting to see reference to the hot weather we were experiencing down on the coast.  Not a bit of it, not a flaming word.  I well remember just how hot it was, I can’t believe not a mention got in the diary.

I went to the osteopath this morning and have been signed off with the strict instructions not to leave it until I experience the same excruciating pain in my knee that I had last time.  Simple exercises and strict instructions not to do too many stairs and long walks are not recommended.  Which ever way you look at it, I’m stuffed...

1.) there are steps up to the top garden

2.) our stairs are twisting and turning and of varying height treads

3.) going for long walks with a dog suddenly seem a problem 

Well go to the foot of our stairs... Bugger!

On my return, I said to the husband

‘The osteopath suggests we get a bungalow!’

His face was a picture!

The gorilla rope...

has landed!

My idea for its next reincarnation is as a hedgehog house behind the garden room...

Something along the lines of this. Alright the finished article will be tighter and have a roof.  Just wish I had seen some evidence of hedgehogs.  Haven’t even attracted a frog into the water trough at the right of the picture.  In the past we emptied out very murky looking water and were amazed to discover a few frogs happily living in the murk and gloom.

Our funny little...

room!  Where to start?

This is the state of (the art!) no, no, no, collapse fireplace!

I am tempted to suggest we open it up to see just what is behind.  In the other corner is a gas boiler, who in their right mind thought here would be a good place for a thing of such ‘beauty’?

The palm is here as the Orangery was too darned hot for it.  It looks forlorn, a lot healthier although not nearly so magnifico!

The funny different depth treads up the twisty stairs and there you have it.

Even me with a very vivid imagination is a tad stumped as to how to tackle it!  It has the distinct possibility of becoming a cosy snug in the winter, however the cost of the fireplace opening up and re-siting (and where?) of the boiler will put a definite brake on proceedings.  Giving me time to 

get my thinking cap on.

All suggestions on a postcard please...

Oh and another thing just to get you in the mood all this is topped off with a very pronounced pong of drains, all in keeping with a cottage of this age I suppose... I just have to keep reminding myself not to empty the chamber pot out of the bedroom window...

Hairdressers...

I have known!  The memory came about by a comment from Frances about hairdressers visiting the house.  This was a different set-up, I visited her house.  She was a social worker and a part time hairdresser.  Her home reflected her off the wall taste.  In those days I used to have highlights to hide the grey... if only?  She worked her magic so much so I stepped out with hair looking a more natural colour than my long lost colourful tresses.  The wonder of those visits is still with me: my eyes feasted on the treasures, newly acquired since my last visit.  The place was stuffed full of her artwork, pottery and so much, much more.  The wall colours were constantly changing. The garden a riot of overblown flowers, the paths knee deep with their exuberant spread.  Your nose assailed with perfume, your ears deafened by the buzz of contented bees.  That was in the summer.  In the winter a different story: take it from me it wasn’t a whole load of fun to kneel on bare boards over a bath and have your hair washed in the perishing cold.  Turban wrapped in a damp threadbare towel you trogged down the rickerty-rackerty stairs. In the house she always wore a hat, and boy could she talk.  There was always some tale of the latest boyfriend and how he had taken her to the cleaners, in fact come to think of it, the cleaners would have had a field day in there.  As I pressed the huge amount of money she required into her hand, I staggered out with my head ringing.  I have always hoped one day to find a hairdresser for me to tell my problems to!  To this day I never have, is it my fault I idly wonder?

How shallow am I...

to give you an idea.  Today in the tipping rain, I set off.  Titfer plonked firmly on my head I must confess I looked the very model of a bag lady. Just short of a bottle of VP sherry in a brown paper bag I looked the bizz!  My aim was to recce the hairdressers of Ludlow.  My last one in Hythe was called Bohemia and it sort of suited my rather high flown idea of myself!?!  I had highlighted on a previous stroll which ones might fit my very exacting bill.  So on a miserable day I set off on a mission.  Looking for all the world like Insp. Clouseau I swept ‘unobtrusively’ past my first choice 26 times!  In I went: the place was empty, the two stylists, I use the term loosely were filling their faces with what looked like fish and chips.
In my best Lady Docker voice I enquired as to whether I was interrupting their luncheon?
The woman that dragged herself away from her lunch looked me up and down as I did her, neither of us liked what we saw!
 My enquiry as to a possible haircut was met with ‘Sorry, we are fully booked!’
I walked away thinking
‘Blimey, that was a close shave and all I wanted was a trim!’ 

My MO changed after that because for the life of me I couldn’t imagine how I would have got myself out of the door if she had said frigging Yes!

Onwards and upwards, it couldn’t really be anything other than up could it?

Eventually I found a salon that was busy, could this be an indication I wonder?  I’m quick like that!

The receptionist was helpful, I came away armed with an appointment for next week, and the distinct feeling of hope.

I am now...

able to answer my comments.

Can you cotton-picking believe it?

No, neither can I!

Oh, alright the techwhizz was a man... but still!

In readiness for...

the arrival tomorrow afternoon of the techwhizz I dusted off my MacBook and reacquainted myself with it.  Along the way I  had a trip down memory lane looking at the huge amount of photo’s therein.  Sad was how I felt as so many featured my lovely little dog who has been dead six years.  In that time I realise just how much of my mojo has gone.  It’s a funny thing that probably only dog people will relate to... just what fairy dust a dog adds.  Alright, along with dog hair and muddy footprints, but still!?!

The husband says, now wouldn’t be the right time and I can only agree... damn!  Our plan is to get a rescue dog, so what with the upheaval of workmen and us planning on a trip back to the Highlands later in the summer, now definitely wouldn’t be a good time.  My plaintive cry of let’s just go to look!?!  Is met with, it won’t surprise you... 
‘No, you know full well it won’t be that simple!’
 Although, after Tish, I am being very specific in my mind.  Hold tight L.L. that might not be so easy when you actually get there? 

Lost for words, I am, well at least for the time being while I plot my next move.  Suggestions as to what and how would be gratefully received.

This isn’t Tish...