Please note how perfectly Merlin follows my directions in this short clip, turning to look at me when asked and then looking to his girlfriends when I ask where they are. Its as if he understands every word. LOL. I'll put a clip of his girlfriends dancing tomorrow. He's very odd, he's obsessed with the chickens, he's the only cat who is. He will follow them around and sit watching them for hours.
I don’t think I like the sound of THIS!!
AOL UK has been sold off to The Carphone Warehouse; they are the ones that have been having such a problem coping with their new Broadband system.
Where does that leave us, will we still be able to link to our Jland friends in America and elsewhere?
I don’t want to be sold off!!!!
I really appreciated the comments on last week’s entry, thank you.
I’ve recently found a new Journal, which has some wonderful tales in it of Terry’s Polish Mother and Grandparents. She certainly deserves a wider audience, please visit and say Hi. Bowl of Cherries
I have to say the children in my class are not what I first thought. They are now showing their true colours and they are the worst class I’ve worked with. They are the worst class the teacher has worked with. They are so bad the supply teacher on Wednesday afternoon refused to work with them and had to send for help from the Deputy Head. Twelve of them had been so awful, they were taken out and whipped! No…… sorry, that was just wishful thinking, they had Behaviour Slips, which go in their file and they missed all their breaks on Thursday.
We are now on a get-tough campaign with them, I hope I am able to report an improvement soon. Thank goodness half term break is coming up.
Harper, bless him, has developed that really smelly, old dog smell, so he had to go in the bath today, with half a bottle of Johnson’s Baby Shampoo. He smells much better now but is so peed off with me. He walks off if I go near him and keeps giving me the dirtiest looks.
Willow is also cross with me, we had to deal with the tangles on her legs and back end. She is the sweetest, most docile cat you could wish for, until you try to groom her that is and then I’m afraid she’s about as loveable as a bag of vipers. The scratches and bites I’ve had in the past are the reason she had the tangles now. I got to the stage where I couldn’t bear to deal with her. But, we have bought a new electric hair trimmer and all those tangles have been whizzed off and we will be starting from scratch (excuse the pun). As the hair grows back I will have to persevere and keep brushing her. She does look funny though, rather like a Standard Poodle, with a lion cut.
We went to see The Yeoman of The Guard on Tuesday night. Haven’t been to a Gilbert and Sullivan since I lived with my parents and I remembered this one had a song I really like. (I have a song to sing Oh!) Well the music and singing was very good but for heavens sake, can’t they get some young people to join these Operatic groups?
The handsome, young Colonel Fairfax was 60 if he was a day, short and squat and made up like a pantomime dame, in a vain attempt to make him look younger. As for the young maiden, daughter of the Constable of The Tower, that fell in love with him. Well, she had a fabulous voice but could only shop at Evans and was at least 40.
I’m not saying there is anything wrong with these things, after all, I’m 53 and fat but I don’t go round masquerading as an lithesome 18 year old virgin…. well not often! I might get away with it at the College for the Blind but I’m probably not allowed to say any of this, as it’s not PC.
I apologise for being ageist, fatist and visually imparedist. And while I’m at it, for implying old dogs smell and that Poodles with that haircut look silly, or that I might possibly inflict corporal punishment on children.
I love this time of year, the colours and the satisfying feeling of ‘All being safely gathered in’. We picked our Blenheim Orange apples today and we have the usual glut of tomatoes, so I shall be making soup. Oh! And a Happy Thanksgiving on Monday 9th October to my Canadian relatives and anyone there reading this.
Last night was the Harvest Home at the farm Mike’s family lived on in the early 19th Century. It was just what I hoped it would be and more.
The Barn was laid with rows and rows of trestle tables, with bales of straw to sit on and a huge log fire roared at one end, filling the barn with the aromatic scent of wood smoke.
A Cider Press, with layer on layer of apples in cloth bags being squeezed, so that they were giving off their wonderful aroma.
The women from the village and local farms baked apple pies, I can honestly say I have never seen so many in my life and there was a large cauldron of hot custard to go with them. In addition to the pies was roast pork and roast lamb to slip into fresh, new, bread rolls. And that was all washed down with locally brewed beer, cider and perry.
A lady sitting just inside the door demonstrated spinning wool, on a New Zealand style of wheel.
She told me things I had never known about spinning, like, the name of the length of the fibres in the fleece are called the staple and that the wool from the diverse parts of the fleece are used for different things, as the quality varies.
The Morris dancing was excellent
but the best thing was the atmosphere, everyone was having such a lovely time, in such a fabulous setting.
Eric, the owner of the farm, (on the left)
asked Mike if he would do the reading in the Harvest Service, which was held in the barn before we ate. It was a reading from Genesis and I think the ghosts of his ancestors must have inspired him because I have never heard him perform better.
Eric told us that his beautiful horses, pictured in a previous entry, had come second to the Beamishteam in a ploughing match that day but they had won several cups during the season. Eric is such a generous, kind man and to open up his home like that, when he had so much going on was truly selfless. The setting up of the barn must have been a huge task.
After the food, there was entertainment of music and singing
but as we had about an hour’s journey home, we only stayed for the early part. I would have liked to stay longer.
While we were picking the apples today, we looked for Mike's glasses that he lost when we picked the other tree a couple of weeks ago. They haven't turned up yet but at least he didn't lose his Reserve pair.
I can't find who sent me the Fall Fairy but I didn't want to waste it, so it's here anyway. Thank You, whoever you are. x.
I’m late with this entry and I know why, I’ve been putting it off because I find part of it hard to write.
My Journal is a true record of the events of my life that have caused some sort of emotion, be it happy or sad, during the week. I don’t write about everything but the bits that stick in my mind.
Last Sunday I went to the Malvern Autumn Show at the Three Counties Showground. In my opinion the best of their three Big Shows. It’s mostly about what people have produced during the year and is like a giant Harvest Festival.
I met friends Sue & John there and had a pleasant time wandering around with them, drinking some delicious Wood’s ‘Shopshire Lad’ Bitter. We Ohh’d & Ahh’d and laughed at some of the exhibits in the Harvest Marquee.
Mike was working all day in the Food Theatre and did two cooking sessions with Anthony Worrall Thompson. I watched the first session and was surprised (or not) how little he actually did, his Home Economist did most of it. It was an entertaining hour and he did well to not lose his temper, as the microphone kept cutting out for the first 20 minutes, due to a lightning strike earlier in the morning. I’ve met and dined with celebrities and VIP’s over the years, many of whomhave been much nicer than I expected, having now met Mr WT all I’m prepared to say is, I haven’t changed my opinion of him.
Mike waiting to be of assistance .
The lovely Lisa does all the work. AWT keeps his hands clean.
Mike doing a bit of fiddling with AWT's
rear end, hence the surprised look, Mike
was trying to sort out the microphone.
AWT beats a hasty retreat when he adds
too much Calvados to the Pears.
Mike's just been told he gets to take
some of this home!!
After I left Sue and John to do their own thing I went to see the son of friends of ours.
I knew he was working on one of the stands and that he wanted to see me.
I hadn’t seen him for four years, the last time was at his 21st Birthday. His parents were still together then.
Rewind 20 years. We became great friends with this couple who had two sons, one James, the same age as my Simon and Richard, who was two years younger. We spent so many weekends with them and even met up on holiday. The children played together and Catherine learnt to ride on one of their ponies. They were known as James the First and Richard the Second because Mike always got their names muddled, although they were like chalk & cheese. James, tall, blonde, cautious and dreamy, while Richard was short, dark, cheeky and dare devil.
Then the family moved to a farm in Devon and we moved to Cardiff. But we still went to stay with them in Devon. Then they moved to Eire to another farm where they wanted to breed horses and continue their horse transport business. We moved back to Worcester.
One February morning I was just making the toast for breakfast, when the phone rang. It was James’s grandmother to say that James hadbeen killed the day before ,when a car hit him as he crossed the road from behind the school bus. He was 14 years old. His body was hit 70 metres up the road. His dad ran out from the farm and cradled him in his arms but knew from his injuries that if he weren’t already, he very soon would be dead.
I’d like to say our friendship stood up through this difficult time and I suppose it did through the early days but then there was brittleness to the relationship. James would be mentioned but not really talked about and that wonderful, easy, friendship was gone. I think there were too many memories of the four children together, we just couldn’t work through there being three and of course my Simon was there constantly being the age that James would have been. Richard felt he had to try to be both sons to his parents and the toll on a 12-year-old boy was terrible. We all grew apart.
Eventually their marriage became another casualty to that fateful day.
And now Richard wanted me to go and see him, which I would but I didn’t want us to be seeing James in the back of each other’s eyes, in a look, the acknowledgement of the pain, the guilt that he is the survivor, and I still have my son, I just didn’t want it to be like that.
I approached a group of salesmen on his stand andone asked if he could help. I said, “Yes, I’m looking for a young man” and the one nearest turned round and said “Hello Beautiful”. We kissed and then it turned into a rib-breaking hug, it was as if those seconds of contact put it all to rest. There was no awkwardness now, in that hug was the silent agreement that there was no need for sadness, we’d put that behind us. We then laughed and chatted and caught up with all the family gossip, James slipped in and out of our conversation just as easily as all the other family names. I’m so glad I saw Richard but dear god, how like his father he looks and he always used to call me Beautiful.
There is a strange and even worse twist to this tale and I can’t think of James without remembering Mike.
Almost a year to the day after James’s death a party of friends went from Wales to watch a Rugby International in Ireland. They were returning to the Rosslare Ferry in the early hours of the morning when their minibus skidded on ice and overturned. No one was hurt except Mike who was killed, instantly, on the same stretch of road where James had been killed a year earlier. Mike had been a very dear friend, who I worked with in Cardiff. He was a loveable clown and his claim to fame was once being on the Krypton Factor. I couldn’t go to his funeral, as my father was taken ill and died the day before.
All of this was a very difficult time to get through and I think it does me good from time to time, to open up the wound and have a good poke around. Sorry if there is anyone reading this and they’ve been depressed by it. Don’t be,I had enough depression for everyone.
But, back to the Autumn Show.I had a lovely day and I think the photos capture some of the colour.
During the day you can buy displays in the Flower Tent, which you can collect at 5pm. I saw this lovely Michaelmas Daisy display that I wanted, it was £10. Unfortunately it had already been sold and they only had the £15 size left. Only by now I had my heart set on some flowers. So I paid for a £15 one.
At 5pm I realised just how many flowers it contained and there was no way I’d get the display in the car. So I, along with others, had to have it dismantled and put into bunches. The stallholders were so busy that I offered to break down my own. A couple of ladies walked up and mistaking me for the stallholder asked if they could buy some. The stallholder heard and said, “Sorry, they were all sold earlier”.They were obviously disappointed and walked away saying they had wanted some for some graves. Well, I now realised I have neither the house nor number of vases to accommodate all these flowers, So I quickly wrapped a huge bunch and ran after them and said it was a present. They were so pleased they came back a few minutes later to thank me again.
Then I decided we would call in on Sue on the way home and give her a bunch ,as a memento of the Show. Then we got home and my next thought was Rachel, who lives nearby and was widowed earlier in the summer. She was out, so I pushed a note through her door saying to come round when she got home. I then set too getting the rest into vases.
After I’d finished Rachel called round, saying she was intrigued as to what I had got for her. She was thrilled with the flowers but the really nice thing was, she stayed and shared a bottle of wine with us and didn’t go home until 10.30. We had a lovely chat and I’m sure it did her good as she is finding life very lonely without her beloved John.
So how much happiness can £15 buy? Well, as it turns out……lots.
School has been manic and we had the official opening of our new school. A conjoined Primary rather than separate Infant & Junior. The Mayor came to plant a tree, it rained, we got wet, but what the hell.
A Year 5 boy went and asked the Mayor for his autograph and handed him a sheet of paper and a pencil. The boy had just been picking his nose and the paper was attractively decorated with a green bogey!!!!!
I was marking some Reading tests yesterday, in which the children have to select a word from a list and put it into a sentence. This shows their understanding of similar looking words, or ones you would connect with the subject of the sentence. I don’t laugh AT the children but I really can’t help laughing at some of the sentences they make.
The children were asked not to trinket in their seats.
Michael got a job dealing newspapers.
He had dinner left after his wallet was stolen.
She played the medal on the flute.
The shop sold vicious flavours of ice cream.
Another word for a time of rest and play is childhood.
A partly rounded shape like the new moon is called a convalescent.
The puppets were laminated with great skill.
The fancy dress pencil drew a large crowd. (I think this is my favourite.)
The shop sold varicose flavours of ice cream.
People who think only of themselves are said to be shellfish.
And on that happy note………….
I apologise to anyone that has me on their Alerts, I don't usually do this many entries in a week, my computer seems to be taking me over.
Debbie (Essex Girl) sent me this quiz and as it's the first I've done and probably the last, I thought I'd post it in my Journal as I was brutally honest with my answers and then when I read them back decided I should probably get some counselling, or something.
This Journal is here primarily for me , although I don't mind who reads, or comments on it. I want to have a look back at this, when I haven't spent all day on a Maths Course and see if my answers are still the same, although hopefully I may have changed my clothes by then. For some reason these school courses always leave me feeling depressed.
1. FIRST NAME Linda
2. MIDDLE NAME Gillian
WERE YOU NAMED AFTER ANYONE? No.
4. WHEN DID YOU LAST CRY? September 11th.
5. DO YOU LIKE YOUR HANDWRITING? Never.
WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE LUNCH MEAT? Pardon?
7. KIDS? 2 of my own and 2 step-children.
8. WOULD YOU BE FRIENDS WITH YOU? I’d probably be too busy.
9. DO YOU HAVE A JOURNAL? More than one.
10. DO YOU USE SARCASM A LOT? Not much now.
11. DO YOU STILL HAVE YOUR TONSILS? No.
12. WOULD YOU BUNGEE JUMP? Oh Yes, after you skinned me alive and pulled all my teeth out. (I lied about the sarcasm!)
13. FAVORITE CEREAL? Oatibix.
14. DO YOU UNTIE YOUR SHOES WHEN YOU TAKE THEM OFF? Yes but I only have trainers with laces.
15. DO YOU THINK YOU ARE STRONG? I have to be.
16. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE ICE CREAM FLAVOR? One you can get in Cornwall made with blackcurrants (whole) and fresh cream.
17. SHOE SIZE? Ever increasing, now an 8!
18. RED OR PINK? Ever the tart….Red.
19. WHAT IS YOUR LEAST FAVORITE THING ABOUT YOURSELF? Where shall I start? My personality probably, then my looks, my insecurity….everything really.
20. WHOM DO YOU MISS THE MOST? Auntie Dorothy. Change the crying answer to now.
21. DO YOU WANT EVERYONE TO SEND THIS BACK TO YOU? I’m not sending this in email as my select band of friends(the few that will have me) might find it an intrusion and that would worry me, so am posting it in my Blog for anyone that wants to use it. But would be happy to receive anyone’s answers by email.
22. WHAT COLOR PANTS AND SHOES YOU ARE WEARING? I assume this means trousers? Black. If it means pants, then also black. I’m barefoot, I usually am at home.
23. LAST THING YOU ATE? An apple from my garden.
24. WHAT ARE YOU LISTENING TO RIGHT NOW? Birdsong and the wind in the trees.
25. IF YOU WERE A CRAYON, WHAT COLOR WOULD YOU BE? Purple.
26. FAVORITE SMELL? Warm, fresh, hay.
27. WHO WAS THE LAST PERSON YOU TALKED TO ON THE PHONE? My son.
28. THE FIRST THING YOU NOTICE ABOUT PEOPLE YOU ARE ATTRACTED TO? Something you can’t see, I think you might call it their aura.
29. DO YOU LIKE THE PERSON WHO SENT THIS TO YOU? Yes but we’ve never actually met.
30. FAVORITE DRINK? Wine.
31. FAVORITE SPORT? Formula One racing.
32. HAIR COLOR? . According to my hairdresser a natural warm dark blonde. According to me pooh coloured.
33. EYE COLOR? Hazel
34. DO YOU WEAR CONTACTS? No.
35. FAVORITE FOOD? Yes.
36. SCARY MOVIES OR HAPPY ENDING? Happy endings.
37. WHAT COLOR SHIRT ARE YOU WEARING? Burnt Orange jumper.
38. FAVORITE DESSERT? Crème Brulee.
39. WHO IS MOST LIKELY TO RESPOND? Not doing the email thing.
40. LEAST LIKELY TO RESPOND? Same as 39.
41. WHAT BOOK ARE YOU READING? Don’t have the time at present.
42. WHAT'S ON YOUR MOUSE PAD? Tigger and Pooh, I stole it from my son.
43. WHAT DID YOU WATCH LAST NIGHT ON TV? Afterlife recorded on Saturday.
44. FAVORITE SOUNDS? My granddaughter gurgling down the phone at me (she’s a baby!)
45. ROLLING STONES OR BEATLES? Both.
46. THE FURTHEST YOU'VE BEEN FROM HOME? Tunisia.
I don't know what happened to 47 and 48!!
49. DO YOU HAVE A SPECIAL TALENT? Yes. Putting my foot in it.
50. WHEN AND WHERE WERE YOU BORN? Mary Stevens Maternity Home, Stourbridge, Worcestershire. Strangely enough, on my birthday.
This is just an experiment, me talking to my chickens, slightly more interesting than watching paint dry! Click on the button to view.
