Not A Post

Attention! This is not a post! This is just a short note to relieve Mr Devine and Mitzi of an oversized Aidan Turner, I’m sure they are both weary of the sideboard invasion.

Meanwhile, here is photographic evidence of a glimmer of hope:-

I will be back with my long awaited 1938 post BY THE END OF THE WEEK. I think I might have built it up to be much more than it is. I hope I haven’t got it muddled with 1937? Hey ho. I will also be resuming my blogging rounds from tomorrow.

Anyhow, this is not a post, blah, blah, blah….

Please carry on with whatever you were doing before this interruption.

Notes to Self…. [A pertinent list featuring Aidan Turner]

1) Write a blog post before the end of June.

2) Reply to comments of previous blog post.

3) Think about strong language. Strong language is defined as swearing – surely it isn’t strong at all? It is lazy, easy, weak? Surely it is stronger to find more meaningful words rather than to rely on a predictable fuck? I mean, who wants a predictable fuck?

4) Do some calligraphy. Do I really want to do more calligraphy? If I make a point of giving it up then maybe I’ll be desperate to do it?

5) Take another photo of a pile of read books on a chair.

6) Try to decimate Mr Devine’s sideboard with a giant picture of Aidan Turner. I don’t think my method works anymore, but at least I can have a picture of Aidan Turner on my blog.

7) Why hasn’t Aidan Turner been considered as the next James Bond/Dr Who/presenter of The One Show – write to the relevant organisations and suggest his inclusion on their shortlists.

8) Cut toe nails.

9) Think about 1938.

10) Publish this list as a blog post – but isn’t that cheating a little?

Notes and Pictures and a Big Pink Bush

I have a new series of posts to delight and entertain! Following on from my globally popular series such as A book on a chair, Loopy Letters and Scarlet’s Guide to Public Toilets in the UK, I bring you: Notes From My Journals 1971 – 2021. These will include digital notes; handwritten notes; and photographs from my photo journal. For example here is a note from June 1975:-

And from more recently…

4th June 2021

Honestly, I am shaken by my encounter, but pleased I didn’t get into a slanging match. No point with people like that, is there? And I realise I haven’t explained what happened. In a nutshell: tractor with agricultural equipment being pulled behind, was hurtling towards us in a narrow lane; it stopped, but I didn’t think there was room enough for us to pass by; I walked back to a large passing point, so did my friend and her dog; the tractor then came to a halt beside us, and the driver ranted on about us not walking past when he’d stopped; I said that my dog wouldn’t and he replied that I shouldn’t be on the road then; he then made a point of staring at me; I didn’t reply and stared back, matching his aggressive eye contact; he then pretended to be about to let his snarling dog out of the tractor cab; I didn’t flinch; in the end he had to drive away with me still staring after him.
Guess I was cool really, but I didn’t feel it. I reckon he will deliberately try to kill me if he ever sees me again – I got that sort of vibe. Glad I wasn’t wearing the onesie.

And from my photo journal – My glorious pink bush….

Yes, this year I am determined to be ready for the Garden Competition.

Knee update: Saw Doctor on Friday, he claimed to be baffled and referred me to physio. Perhaps I should have shown him the wax effigy to explain the condition of my knee? Maybe next time.

What happened in May?

After several weeks on the fainting chaise I began to feel better. My recovery had been slow, arduous, and beset with challenges, for example I felt as though an ominous cloud had been stalking me daily, I couldn’t shake it, so instead I decided to take a photograph to illustrate the darkness of my unwanted companion.

To illustrate a post featuring a sky.

To escape the cloud I hid indoors and pretended it wasn’t there, although I could still hear it leaking into my conservatory. I tried to make a note to get my roof fixed, but couldn’t decide whether to use copperplate, italic, or a modern calligraphy style. I concluded that my indecision was because it was all getting a little bit too much. I decided to stick my thoughts together with a drawing of a crow, as this was obviously the best way to make a note.

Though in the midst of muddlement, I knew there was a course of therapeutic action available to me, which was to lay quietly on the fainting chaise and read a pile of books [one at a time, NOT consecutively].

And lo, after several weeks I did begin feel better though less than robust, after all, I did still have a Temporomandibular joint disorder; Tinnitus; and a misdiagnosed knee condition, but, I also had a theory: my chronic ailments were somehow related to that damn wax effigy I’d sealed in a bottle back in 2006. I had unwisely used my own hair, and material from my clothes to make this glorious work of art…. blah, blah, blah… I think we have been here before….

wax-effigy-in-bottle-on-mantelpiece

Please note that the pin located on the right of the doll’s head [my left] and the pin stabbed into the left knee [my right], correspond anatomically [within accepted parameters] to my current jaw and knee issues.

I concluded that the only way to be completely well again would be to break the bottle and remove the pins from the effigy – plus, if my theory was correct, then did I really want to find out what the remaining pins would do?

It is now June 2021, and I am still a bit nuts.

Knees and Tidy Drawers….

Apologies, I have been sulking. I have been sulking because my knees hurt. One aches due to previous dog related incidents, and the other knee feels like it has a penknife lodged in it – not that I have any experience of actually having a penknife lodged in my knee. I spoke to my doctor several weeks ago and he used the word ‘tear’ and the phrase ‘floating fibres’, which made me switch off from everything else he was saying. I am rather squeamish about blood, bones, and suchlike, for example to my ear the word ‘cartilage’ is akin to fingernails on a chalkboard – it makes me shudder. And all those anatomical graphic diagrams of knees – ick, no, can’t look at them. Knees should just work and get on with what they’re supposed to be doing, they shouldn’t be whinging and whining and hurting for no justifiable reason – they should stay under the cover of a decent pair of jeans, behave themselves, and be grateful for a swipe of body lotion and the occasional rub. Don’t I have enough drama from the wonky jaw????
Anyhow, the pain has made me grumpy, and rather unsociable.

To pass the time, whilst sulking, I have been resting, and reading, and also sorting out my drawers. I have found some interesting bits and pieces dating back to 1938, which I will regale you with in future posts, but today I have something far more recent….

Yes, it’s a little hand stitched booklet made by our very own Dinah back in 2012! I came across other bits of blogging memorabilia that has been sent to me over the years, such as postcards from Mr Mags, Mr Lax, and Pete; a picture of the Parliament Hill cats from MJ; and a birthday card from Mr Devine. I will put all these things together somewhere safe, and in ten years time I will find them again – they will make me smile, and I will again put them away somewhere safe…. and I will probably continue this cycle until the day that I don’t.

Yep, I will now return to berating my kneecaps.

Next time: Charmaine has a theory – is it time to break a bottle?

A Book on a Chair….

…and so I decided that I wasn’t going to write another post until I finished the book that I began reading way back HERE. Honestly, I have never taken so long to finish a very good book, but 2020 happened and proved to be something of a distraction.

Middle England

Chapter 26 provides a laugh out loud moment. And there is also a peripheral character with a penchant for calligraphy. But mostly it’s about the past that never was, and the impossible dreams we weave for a future knitted with nostalgia. Oh, and there might be some talk of Brexit. I loved it – Jonathan Coe at his best. I wonder if he’ll write a book about the pandemic? I hope so.
As you can see the chair has moved into the kitchen. Gripping stuff – well, I had to do something during lockdown.

Meanwhile, huge excitement!!! I have some garden pics!!!!! I actually managed to take a pic of the blossom on my cherry tree before it all fell off.

Cherry Blossom

Yes, there is Sid in the background. AND, I found a filter especially designed for estate agents on my iPad…

Estate Agent Filter

…which makes my garden look about ten times bigger than it actually is. Yay! I have extensive grounds!

Finally, I have some pics of flowers to pretty up my blog a little…

Flowers

Flowers

Next time: A dubious sod; a wax effigy; a bad knee; a decision to be made; and the tale of the woebegone soul. And maybe some more flowers.