At the bottom of the lane I slowed by the small copse that separated our lane from the main farm road. I dropped my bike on the verge and surveyed the woodland’s edge. Fortunately for me this section of frith had yet to be cleared and there were plenty of saplings to be raided. I jumped across the ditch and grabbed onto a young ash standing proud from the mass of newly emerging green. It took only a moment or two to select a couple of growing tips; slender and smooth and grey, their foliage still encased in cool black buds that looked for all the world like the hooves of tiny goats.
Last weekend was a gremlin-fuelled rolling catalogue of things ‘going wrong.’ None of the things going awry were life-threatening, but thoroughly exasperating when they ran into each other like a flock of myopic chickens!
It began on Saturday morning when the silver chain that I wear at all times got caught on the corner of a kitchen cupboard and the catch (on the chain) snapped in half. It is one of those things that I feel lost without so a small string of expletives followed, but as Peter and I were mid-clean in preparation for a house viewing I put the pieces in a safe place and carried on; fully intending to go back and repair it later. Continue reading →
Whilst writing Winter Downs and the world of my heroine, Rose ‘Bunch’ Courtney, there were many things that required some careful research. The first that came to mind was the knotty problem of rationing. Conducting a small straw poll the general perception of many people seems to be that rationing came in with a bang the moment war was declared, and remained there until the end of the war, when it was lifted immediately. This was not the case.
Mindful of the privations suffered in the Great War, the Ministry of Food was set up to oversee supplies and there was an original plan to implement full rationing from September 1939. The MoF did announce rationing several times in those early months – only to postpone them due to some vociferous newspaper campaigns, spearheaded, by all accounts by a series of editorials in the Daily Express; which, for example, urged the public to “…revolt against the food rationing system.” Continue reading →
Or the latest bulletin from the Bulging Wardrobe. Strictly speaking I have momentarily moved on to my bulging chest of drawers, where I am sorting through several decades’ worth of T-shirts.
So far, and there may be others lurking, I have discovered that I own at least five red T-shirts. Is this a reasonable number? They are more or less the same colour red and to be honest there isn’t a huge difference in style between them. Added to which, one or two I scarcely recognised as it is so long since I last wore them that I had forgotten they were there.
Getting rid of the short sleeved one, will be easy. I don’t do short sleeves and the neckline is not flattering. The others will be harder.
The Laura Ashley with the bow on the neckline is a case in point. Unlike my flowered skirt, there’s not much…
A few of my friends have commented recently that they have not seen much of me since the beginning of the year. They think that I have turned into some kind of crazy crochet cat lady who only wants to be with their wool and creations.
Well this is true to a certain degree. At the moment, or for the last few weeks at least since just before Christmas last year, that is all I have wanted to do.
There is a reason for it.
For most of my adult life, and possibly in my teens as well, I have had mood swings that go up and down. For years my mother thought it was just my hormones. I am now approaching the time of life when hormones should stop swinging all over the place and calm down, but my mood swings have not!