Swan on the River Thames

'What is this life if, full of care,

we have no time to stand and stare?'

'No time to see, in broad daylight,

streams full of stars, like skies at night'

Excerpted from 'Leisure' by W. H. Davies

Pleasant days, pretty night

The weather has been delightful recently and I've been making the most of it over the allotment, sowing seeds, planting out seedlings, doing the weeding and pulling some rhubarb. Rather a lot of rhubarb, as it happens. So much that, having made a rhubarb crumble, I bundled the rest of the sticks into small packages and gave them away after Church on Sunday.

Today a friend came over for lunch and then we walked into town for an amble round the shops. It was interesting to note that neither of us was particularly thinking of buying anything for ourselves, but we would look at things and think of other people. I looked at a lovely picture of an African elephant with two baby elephants in the foreground, their trunks intertwined, and thought how much Vicky would like it. My friend looked at an abstract picture of chickens and decided to buy it for another friend. I saw an attractive silver butterfly necklace and bought it for Vicky. My friend saw some wooden ornaments and bought them for her grand-daughter. It was a very pleasant shopping trip, with the added delight of anticipating the pleasure our purchases would bring to their recipients.

In the cookshop there was an apron with a message printed boldly on the bib: 'I kiss better than I cook'. It seemed an odd motto to choose to wear on an apron considering the possible consequences: would readers take it as an invitation to sample the wearer's kisses? Would that distraction at a critical moment make it a self-fulfilling prophecy? Alternatively if the reader had his/her own judgment on how good a kisser the wearer was, might it put him/her off sampling the cooking? What do you think? (This is not a rhetorical question - I'm curious to read your answer. For example, are there any circumstances you can think of that would call for someone to wear an apron saying I kiss better than I cook? Or what motto would you prefer to wear on an apron? There's a comments facility below).

Tonight another friend phoned and had been chatting for some time when I glanced out of the window and realised how stunning the night sky looked with the moon peeping into the garden through the clouds and the branches of the trees. When I came off the phone, I went out into the garden and tried to capture it with the digital camera. The scene doesn't look quite as beautiful in the photos as in real life, but the camera didn't do too badly, all things considered.

Open Day at the Well-being Centre

This morning I went to the Open Day at the Well-being Centre. I cycled there and was about to leave my bike propped up against the wall of the building when a member of staff came out. “It’s ok to leave it here, isn’t it?” I enquired politely, anticipating she would agree it was fine – not in anybody’s way – but no.
“Oh no, someone might walk off with it if you leave it there – bring it inside, it’ll be safer.”
“Oh, no one’s going to steal it” I told her confidently. It’s an old bike, not in the least bit trendy, and as if that isn’t enough to deter a would-be thief, it has a large wire basket on the back, but she wouldn’t have it. Holding the door open wide, she ushered me and the bike inside. Reluctantly, obediently, I wheeled the bike in and flinched at the look another staff member cast my way. The Well-being centre has narrow corridors and with it being an Open Day, it was already heaving at the seams with people.
“Can she leave the bike indoors so it doesn’t get stolen” asked my usher of the other staff member. Inwardly I sighed – it now sounded as though I was the one concerned the bike would be stolen and wanting special attention. They conferred and decided the best place to put it was in the garden – which meant wheeling it all the way through the building, apologising to the people who had to flatten themselves against the walls, and lifting it round sharp corners until it was safely stowed in the garden. It seemed a lot of unnecessary fuss for a rusty bicycle. Besides, if someone stole it, I’d have a good excuse to buy a new one!

I enjoyed the Open Day, especially the drama presentation by Express Yourself. It provided a foretaste of the group I’ll be joining on Fridays.

In the evening I went to the Midweek church meeting, which was on the subject of service. I did my bit by serving teas and coffees. Unfortunately that meant I was close to the bowl of popcorn and large box of After Eights … which proved irresistible. One of my friends came over and we were chatting about how we both need to lose weight, but ironically even in the midst of that conversation my hand was busily conveying popcorn to my mouth. Go figure!

I’d got a lift to the meeting but it was a nice evening and I planned to get a bit of exercise by walking home. I’ve done that before from Midweek meeting and enjoyed the walk. It’s about a mile and three quarters. The road goes down the hill through the Old Dean forest, and at night when all is quiet you can hear the furtive rustling of nocturnal animals going about their business. At the end of the evening as we were saying goodnight to each other, my friend came over and asked how I was getting home. When I explained I was going to walk, she wouldn’t hear of it. In the end rather than argue my case and hold fast to my decision, I submitted to her suggested compromise and accepted a lift to the bottom of the hill then walked home from there. As I was walking I realised that my frame of mind and thoughts were very different to what I’d anticipated. Instead of feeling peaceful and happy and enjoying the experience moment by moment, I was feeling a bit resentful at my friend’s well-meaning intervention. I knew she meant well – I recognised the love and concern behind the words - but her mothering had seemed smothering. She hadn’t been prepared to respect my first choice as it made her feel uncomfortable – how could she have forgiven herself if something had happened to me taking the risk of walking alone past that spooky forest?

I reflected on the day, remembering the similarity of the episode with the bike. I wondered whether this is something I’m inclined to do too - to express concern over the validity of another adult’s choice, and force my own choice upon them as a way of validating my view of myself as a ‘caring person’. I may feel I’m doing the ‘right thing’, showing my love and concern, but I realise now that when you’re on the receiving end, it can feel quite disempowering.

I’ve just finished reading a novel called ‘The Shack’ by William P Young, and one of the themes of the book is free will. It’s one of those books that once you’ve read it, you want everyone you know to read it too. If you’ve ever wondered about the question of how come, if God is a God of love, there is so much suffering in the world, I can heartily recommend you read this book – it may change your mind big time!

Burns Supper and Ceilidh

Traditionally a Burns Supper would be celebrated on the anniversary of the Bard's birth, 25th January 1759. The official Burns site warns one should 'Be prepared to enjoy yourself beyond all expectation', and I have to say I did tonight!

In the hall there were 10 tables with 8 guests to a table. We all stood and recited the Selkirk Grace:

Some hae meat and canna eat
Some hae nane that want it
But we hae meat
And we can eat
Sae let the Lord be thank it

then clapped to the beat as the piper in full traditional scottish dress led the chef carrying the haggis into the hall and up to where our lady Chairman waited to address the haggis. (You can find the words on the Burns' site - follow this link )

The event was hosted by a local church. I went along with one of my neighbours and a couple of friends. Nary a man amongst us, but we didn't let that hold us back when it came to joining in the Scottish country dancing, adding much confusion and consequent fun and merriment! "I had four sex changes in that dance" Barbara giggled as we reclaimed our seats after one particularly energetic reel.

The evening began fairly early - 6.30 - and ended at 10 pm after a full and enjoyable programme of entertainment. The meal consisted of the traditional haggis, neeps and tatties (haggis, mashed swede and mashed potato) followed by trifle and shortbread. There was a small jug of whisky on every table. Hector Gilchrist gave a little talk about Robert Burns' life, singing some of the songs the Bard composed and accompanying himself on the guitar. We sang along to some traditional Scottish ballads - Mairi's Wedding, the Skye Boat Song and Westering Home amongst them. Altogether much fun and frivolity.

Spring has sprung!

Here are the crocuses blooming beautifully in the garden. Over the allotment I did a bit of weeding and helped unload a delivery of organic compost. The bags were suprisingly warm.

Have a nice day y'all

The day didn't get off to a great start - somewhat overcast, and the meter reader knocked at the door whilst I was still swanning about in my nightclothes. After he'd left I had a bath and refocused, and the day got better.

The mild, dry weather tempted me over the allotment where I had a nice chat with one of the regulars. I'd heard he'd been very poorly, and it was good to see him looking fit and well. I pulled some leeks, picked some sprouts and some gorgeous purple sprouting broccoli, did a little weeding and then began to walk home for lunch. In town I found a debit card lying in the street, took it into the issuing bank and approached a young man in a suit. "Do you work here?" I asked him. "I try to" he said. Smiling at his disarmingly modest response, I handed him the card, explained how I'd come by it and asked if he could contact the cardholder to let her know it was safe. He thanked me and assured me he would be very glad to do so. I carried on my way feeling in a very mellow, peaceful mood, glad when I resisted the temptation to pick up a KFC.

Further along my way, a little out of town a lady stopped me and asked about the Spiritualist Church - she had seen a sign pointing to it and had walked down the road but not found it, and wondered what it was. I explained that the Spiritualist Church is about speaking with those who have 'passed over' via a medium. Was that what she was looking for? From her expression I could clearly see it wasn't, so I spoke about being a christian and hearing from God in church, and that we'd love to have her in our church. She asked about the church - she works in the local nursing home on Sundays and was wondering if there were church meetings at other times. I told her about our midweek meetings in each other's houses and gave her my phone number. She explained she is church of England and I was able to tell her where the local C of E church is. As we parted she said, "You've made my day!" I felt really good after the encounter - it made my day, too! My only regret was that I hadn't done the obvious: I had neither asked her name nor asked for her telephone number.

I walked on and as I was about to enter the street where I live, a car drew up alongside me and the young lady driving asked me for directions to the local doctor's surgery. Again I was able to help. Doesn't that feel good, when we are in the right place at the right time with the right information to be able to help someone!

Pyrex Bowls - Design Fault

I began buying stuff for my 'bottom drawer' when I was 15. One of the items purchased was a set of Pyrex dishes: - a Pyrex mixing bowl and three pudding basins, variously 2 pint, 1½ pint and 1 pint. This set accompanied me to college and through various moves, and it is hard to imagine cooking without them. The large mixing bowl and the 1 pint basin have survived 38 years, but recently I've had to replace the other 2 sizes with their nearest metric equivalent. On the original bowls, the Pyrex trademark in the bottom of the bowl is detectable to your fingers only on the outside, leaving the inside of the bowl smooth. This sensible design has been abandoned - on the newest bowl, Pyrex is embossed in the bottom of the basin. I have to ask - what were they thinking? Whisking or stirring with a metal implement now provides a percussion accompaniment to the task and sounds like it may adversely affect the working life of the electric whisk. Then with the risk of sticky substances adhering to the letters, you have to pay particular attention to ensuring that the bowl is fully cleaned after use.

I'm not usually one to stand in the way of progress, but in this instance I have to say that the new design is significantly inferior to the old.