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A Right Royal Occasion
“Are you descendants?” asked the overly enthusiastic lady as we stepped out of our car, onto the tarmac. We were momentarily thrown. Descendants? Well we are certainly descendants of someone but we guessed the lady to be referring to persons more specific. We were heading to The Re-dedication of HMS Alliance at the Royal Navy Submarine Museum, in Gosport, by special invitation. HRH The Duke of Cambridge, Prince William, was to be guest of honour. We had been invited because we had, some time before, donated a sum of money to the project which went on to raise £7m with the help of a lottery grant. HRH Prince William is…
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Cabbages and Fresh Cream (or Abi-Eshu and his Dream)
If Abi-Eshu were here today, he would no doubt be astounded by our dependence on the internet. He would balk at the amount of time we spend on Google+, Facebook, Pinterest, Twitter and the rest. Email and Snapchat would be something he could not even begin to understand. The ease with which we communicate with one another these days was not even dreamed about back in *Abi-Eshu’s day. Or is that so? Circa 3500BC Abi-Eshu has been to market in the cart his father, Abi-Karu, has built. The cart rolls along on Abi’s latest invention, the wheel. On his outward journey, the cart held 4 reams of fine cloth, woven…
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In touch with your DNA
A bit of spit and we can tell where our ancestors were at any given time in the last 200,000 years, according to Eddie Izzard. I watched enthralled, as he retraced the steps of his and our, ancestors from a group of 10,000 Homo sapiens living in ancient Africa, all the way to the 7 billion people populating the planet today. Thanks to the BBC, we were all able to see how far he and we have actually come. All it took was a bit of spit. I haven’t spat at anyone lately but I have been moved to wonder if our DNA recognises the places where our ancestors lived…
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What’s so funny?
Earlier this month, I signed up to “Giggle Blog” started by Susan Jane Jones. I believe the idea is to start the month with a giggle or two. Rather strangely, since signing up to do this, I seem to have lost my funny bone. Screenscribbler also made mention of the value of humour this month and I whole heartedly agreed with him. Since then, alas, my sense of humour gene has definitely mutated. I have given this lack of spontaneous hilarity some serious thought. It cannot be that I am under pressure to be funny because I work best under pressure, don’t I? It cannot be that I really have…
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Welcome home
Whoop whoop! All is well. WordPress have helped us and have moved all our subscribers and stats to their new home. Thank you WordPress. Welcome back everyone 🙂 Debbie and Flossie X
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Where have all the Followers Gone?
Yes, that was a play on the song title but oh dear, since I redirected my blog to its new domain, www.deborahjbarker.co.uk, I seem to have lost most of our dear and much valued, followers. If you are one of those who has fallen by the wayside during the move and if you would like to jump back aboard, then please find us in our new abode and re-subscribe. We will be so happy to see you back. Things are just not the same without you. Debbie and Flossie 🙂
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Rain, rain go away…
So runs the nursery rhyme. This month’s storms, bringing with them the misery of floods and ruined homes in many parts of Britain, seem never-ending. We spent last week in Cornwall as it happens, where some of the worst weather was being experienced. The coastal towns saw waves crashing over harbour walls and flooding the streets. Tides were reaching record levels and the railway line at Dawlish in Devon has been left hanging in mid-air. There was something quite surreal about seeing that rail wavering in the wind, the ballast beneath completely washed away. Now we hear there could be snow — oh joy. Not all is bleak though. Our…
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A letter from Flossie
Dear Boss, Here is my lead and here is your coat…is there a problem? I know you have been busy of late and our woodland walks have been either rather rushed or have failed to materialise at all. Don’t worry, I have taken matters into my own hands. I know you have four small grandsons, two of whom, have needed you more than ever for the past few days. I know that your days have been topsy turvey as your youngest daughter goes back to full time work and there is one crisis after another in her life. Yes, I did hear about the powercut at nursery, the three year…
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Listen, it’s what you make of it…
“You never know what the year will bring. I mean, ever since that incident with Olive and the baubles, I really feel I want to move,” Thus ran the conversation overheard during our New Year Celebrations at the local pub. Try as I might, I could not hear the rest of the conversation but I whipped out my phone and began typing away in ‘notes’ so I would not forget this gem that had dropped, unasked, into my lap. “Who are you texting?” asked my husband. “No one!” I hissed. I tapped the words into my phone and closed it, slipping it into my bag. That conversation or part conversation…
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A round of applause for DPD and “Garry”!
I do not jest. In years gone by, I gritted my teeth as I staggered round the shops with my merry load of gifts and festive fayre. The novelty of browsing for special gifts for that special someone, began to wear a tad thin after hours of trekking through shopping precincts and department stores. It was tiring, trawling the small boutiques and quaint, out-of-the-way shops that stock that something-a-little-bit-different, whilst accompanied by a few thousand other people, bent on the same task. Shopping was a mixture of fun, tinged with exhaustion as I remember it, when the children were small. A trip to Argos to pick up that longed for…
