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Serendipity and Going Places…
It has been some time since my last post. (‘Confession’ might fit nicely there). The reason for my lengthy absence from blogging, is our recent, all encompassing, preoccupation with moving arrangements for our nephew. James is moving into his new home. The process of moving his possessions from A to B, whilst leaving much of what my late sister and brother-in-law have gathered during thirty three years of living at one address, is not without a few ups and downs but, on the whole, it goes well. Over a period of two days, we manage to exhume most of James’s things from their dust ridden hiding places and relocate them…
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Moves Freely in the Wind
I have recently been handed the Versatile Blogger Award. Unlike the Irresistibly Sweet Blog Award, this award seems to be all about the writer’s ability to adapt to changing circumstances. According to my dictionary, it suggests an all-rounder, someone who is adaptable and capable of many different skills, a purveyor of all sorts. Of all the meanings attributed to it, my favourite is the botanical: “Versatile: When the anther is attached and lightly swings, moving freely in the wind.” It has the feel of an ancient American Indian name don’t you think? Perhaps, had I been born into another life I would have been named, “Moves freely in the Wind”.…
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The Sky’s the limit (100th Post!)
Another marathon phone call, with those very nice people at Sky, led to more than one misunderstanding as I struggled to explain what I wanted and they grappled with the complications this entailed. All was plain sailing at first. I am transferring my nephew’s telephone, TV and Broadband services, to a new address for him. Since we became responsible for his welfare, we have had his account in our names for billing purposes. To complicate matters, we have two other Sky accounts. One of these is at our home, another at our holiday home in Cornwall. Treleigh. Taking the bit between my teeth, I logged into my late sister’s old…
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When a house bleeds
Those of you who regularly read my blog, may recall that my husband and I are responsible for the welfare of our 29 year old nephew who has both Aspergers and Klinefelters Syndrome. The ramifications of this new responsibility are many. It is not the easiest task we have ever been given but it is by far the most surprising and undoubtedly, one of the most humorous. James often phones to request my help on one matter or other. I wrote only recently of the ‘Steam Punk Goggle’ request. I found this one very interesting and learnt a lot in the process. I have since been asked to obtain an…
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Magic Boots
Memories are funny things. They pop into one’s head at the most odd times and for no apparent reason. How wonderful the good ones can be though, and how they can make one smile. As I trudge through the woods with the dogs this morning, the legacy of a night’s rain drip-dripping on my head from the overhanging branches, an early morning sun barely visible, I am glad of the wellington boots encasing my feet, rubber boots that squelch through the mud and wet. Heedless of the water-logged ground, I splish-splash on my way. The Duke of Wellington stumbled, quite literally, on a great idea when he modified the original…
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Print versus e-book
For some time I have hovered on the fence regarding e-readers versus print. Well, ‘hovered’ may not be quite the correct term. I have always believed and still believe that the hard copy book beats the e-reader hands down. I mean, what can possibly replace the feel of a good book in one’s hand? What can emulate the pages that waft excitement as you turn them and allow one to breathe in the aroma of crisp print-on-parchment? (I get fanciful now). Furthermore, a hard copy never needs re-charging and sits, tantalizingly inviting, on the bookshelf, begging to be read. Despite this love of the printed material, I do possess both…
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Quirky Inns and Karaoke
We have a couple of particularly quirky pubs near us. One has to be visited at Christmas time, without fail. This pub, run by a garrulous gay couple with theatrical leanings, is a veritable feast for the eyes, a chocolate box of taste, bearing testimony to every knickknack and piece of memorabilia ever created. (That is the impression it creates as one walks in through the door) We are drawn to it for those special occasions when atmosphere and experience is everything. My eldest daughter has held her birthday dinner there for the past few years, ever since the day we turned up for a quiet evening drink and were…
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Mummy-brain is a long term condition DJ!
I was listening to ‘Pop Masters’ on BBC Radio 2 this morning. This is not a competition I am ever likely to enter. Musical facts and dates are just not things I can reliably recall to order. My prowess at musical quizzes stops short of being able to name much more than the winner of ‘Eurovision’ in 1967 (Sandy Shaw) I was ten, I liked ‘Puppet on a String”. The DJ introduced the first contestant. “If I do badly, I think I can claim to have ‘Mummy-Brain’ even though my daughter is seven months old,” declared the latter. The DJ was sceptical, “Can one have ‘mummy-brain’ after the event? Isn’t…
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Steampunk Goggles (the mind boggles)
My research has just taken a new twist. A temporary twist I might add, hastened by a request from my late sister’s son. My lovely nephew, he with Asperger’s and a deep interest in Star Wars, Games Workshop and Re-enactment role play, stumped me this morning. Last week he requested a green cloak, a two-man army surplus pop-up tent a flash memory card and a foam hammer (the latter he is saving up for himself). All these items seemed easy to find and I could visualize them in my head. He has been craving a Classic Ford Crown Victoria Police Interceptor P71 for some time and his requests do not…
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A World Without…
I dreamt I had had my iPhone and purse stolen, two possessions integral to my daily life and needs. The dream was surreal, as most dreams are, in that I was stranded at Waterloo Station, without means to propel myself home again. As is the way with dreams, I soon found myself in a taxi worrying how I would pay the fare. This worry was compounded by the driver appearing to lose his way. I duly noted that there was no SatNav in the car and the driver relied on a walkie-talkie for communication with his base. It was all, most strange. Stranger still, when I eventually arrived home, (Taxi…
