I've just come home to a clean and tidy house, courtesy of Lovely Younger Son. Tony and I spent a week staying with my sister in the upper reaches of North Northumberland and I couldn't possibly tell you all about it, so here are some highlights -
- the views from Bamburgh Castle and Boulmer over the sea, and the view from Bamburgh to Holy Island
- the walk down from Shepherd's Law on a stunning evening - lambs in the fields, a pond with tadpoles and reflections, soft light over the hills
- all the white tulips and apple blossom in Alnwick Garden and, of course, the tree house
- lunch outside in the sun
- Barter Books in Alnwick, probably one of the best second hand bookshops in the world
- seeing my wise old friend Mary, who is well into her nineties with a big heart and a mind like a razor
- the sunshine, which is almost unheard of in the North-East at this time of year
- the cats
- watching the Royal Wedding with good company. So the next blog, unless something strange happens in the meantime, will be my highlights of the Royal Wedding. If you're not into things like the Royal Wedding, you can always do what my brother-in-law did - make disgusted harrumphing noises and go out to shovel horse manure.
Saturday, 30 April 2011
Sunday, 24 April 2011
Easter
A very happy Easter to you all.
An Easter like this makes the whole message so bright and vivid. Everywhere there is colour and blossom, the sun is shining, children are playing outside, the whole message of love and life being stronger than hatred and death is waving at us from every direction. It's something to take in and hold on to when the days are cold and dark.
One of the hardest thing is to have cold dark days when everybody else is celebrating. If this is you, I hope you'll find that the seed is still there, unseen in the earth, and growth is sow, but it is happening. Joy will come.
The Golden Child is more miraculous than ever. She can eat chocolate without changing colour. Even her older brother (wittily entertained by Lovely Younger Son during church) was wearing a white shirt which stayed white all morning. This defies all the laws of nature. I am astonished, and need to rest in a darkened room (eating chocolate.)
An Easter like this makes the whole message so bright and vivid. Everywhere there is colour and blossom, the sun is shining, children are playing outside, the whole message of love and life being stronger than hatred and death is waving at us from every direction. It's something to take in and hold on to when the days are cold and dark.
One of the hardest thing is to have cold dark days when everybody else is celebrating. If this is you, I hope you'll find that the seed is still there, unseen in the earth, and growth is sow, but it is happening. Joy will come.
The Golden Child is more miraculous than ever. She can eat chocolate without changing colour. Even her older brother (wittily entertained by Lovely Younger Son during church) was wearing a white shirt which stayed white all morning. This defies all the laws of nature. I am astonished, and need to rest in a darkened room (eating chocolate.)
Saturday, 23 April 2011
Friday
Good Friday is always strange. If the Cross means anything to you, this is the day when you have to face it and stand by it. And at the same time, everyone's enjoying a holiday. With the fine weather and the late Easter, there are flowers everywhere, and people are out enjoying the sunshine.
The morning was a happy time, surrounded by children. On the way to a service in the evening I walked through the park, which was already littered with empty cans, bottles, and chip papers. The doors at church were left open, and in with the fresh air came voices, laughter, taunts, shouts, and the siren of an ambulance.
That's how it is. We have to cope with the light and the dark, the joy and the sorrow, at the same time. We can do that, but it needs a big heart.
Exercise your heart today.
The morning was a happy time, surrounded by children. On the way to a service in the evening I walked through the park, which was already littered with empty cans, bottles, and chip papers. The doors at church were left open, and in with the fresh air came voices, laughter, taunts, shouts, and the siren of an ambulance.
That's how it is. We have to cope with the light and the dark, the joy and the sorrow, at the same time. We can do that, but it needs a big heart.
Exercise your heart today.
Thursday, 21 April 2011
Fingal
Buttock-callosities? What sort of a name is that? We have a great time with Mistmantle names. Even after all this time my nephew can't go in and out of the Spring Gate without someone saying 'Tide's in' or 'Tide's out', and and if he goes up to the top of the tower, there's a shout of 'High Tide'! Needle no longer notices remarks about looking for a needle, the wrong kind of needle, or needles in a haystack.
Apple's not as silly as you might think. She calls herself Apple Dumpling so nobody else can get in first. But it does make you think about how Urchin introduced his page to her 'this is Apple...' oh, work it out for yourselves.
She of the stories (She who is about to fall asleep over the keyboard) had a rose bush at her old house called 'William Shakespeare'. She wanted a deep red one, and chose it for the name. Was that a good idea? 'William Shakespeare's got greenfly,throw soapy water over him', 'William Shakespeare needs cutting back'. 'William Shakespeare needs dead-heading'.
She's been rushing about all week, but she did manage to get away yesterday for a couple of hours in beautiful sunny York. She's come in from the Maundy Thursday service, flopped into a hot bath, and now she's yawning like a hippo. Go to bed, woman.
Apple's not as silly as you might think. She calls herself Apple Dumpling so nobody else can get in first. But it does make you think about how Urchin introduced his page to her 'this is Apple...' oh, work it out for yourselves.
She of the stories (She who is about to fall asleep over the keyboard) had a rose bush at her old house called 'William Shakespeare'. She wanted a deep red one, and chose it for the name. Was that a good idea? 'William Shakespeare's got greenfly,throw soapy water over him', 'William Shakespeare needs cutting back'. 'William Shakespeare needs dead-heading'.
She's been rushing about all week, but she did manage to get away yesterday for a couple of hours in beautiful sunny York. She's come in from the Maundy Thursday service, flopped into a hot bath, and now she's yawning like a hippo. Go to bed, woman.
Tuesday, 19 April 2011
baboon
Honestly, I'm not making this up.
Last night I was checking the spelling of 'baboon', so I looked it up in the dictionary. Our ancient Chambers Dictionary defines baboon as -
'a large monkey of various species, with long face, dog-like tusks, large lips, a tail, and buttock-callosities'
YES! BUTTOCK-CALLOSITIES! Basically it means hard skin around a baboon's bottom. And baboon's bottoms are often luridly colourful, so shouldn't that be multi-chromic buttock-callosities? I ran straight upstairs to challenge Lovely Younger Son to see how many times he could get buttock-callosities into the conversation at work today. Haven't yet caught up with him to find out.
They could be members of the aristocracy. The Honourable Jeremy Withering Buttock-Callosities, Mrs Rosie Buttock-Callosities and their beautiful daughter Rainbow.
Over to you. Can you get buttock-callosities into your conversation? I've done it seven times in this blog.
By the way - dog-like tusks? Excuse me? What sort of dog is this, Mr Chambers? Are you sure it's a dog?
Last night I was checking the spelling of 'baboon', so I looked it up in the dictionary. Our ancient Chambers Dictionary defines baboon as -
'a large monkey of various species, with long face, dog-like tusks, large lips, a tail, and buttock-callosities'
YES! BUTTOCK-CALLOSITIES! Basically it means hard skin around a baboon's bottom. And baboon's bottoms are often luridly colourful, so shouldn't that be multi-chromic buttock-callosities? I ran straight upstairs to challenge Lovely Younger Son to see how many times he could get buttock-callosities into the conversation at work today. Haven't yet caught up with him to find out.
They could be members of the aristocracy. The Honourable Jeremy Withering Buttock-Callosities, Mrs Rosie Buttock-Callosities and their beautiful daughter Rainbow.
Over to you. Can you get buttock-callosities into your conversation? I've done it seven times in this blog.
By the way - dog-like tusks? Excuse me? What sort of dog is this, Mr Chambers? Are you sure it's a dog?
Monday, 18 April 2011
Palms
Yesterday was Palm Sunday, and we all processed around the churchyard with our little palm crosses in our hands. It was a sunny day for it, too, and in a Yorkshire April you can't take that for granted. (Or in a Yorkshire mid-July, for that matter.) This reminds me of Brother Harry's tree.
Brother Harry was a warm, funny brother at the Franciscan House at Alnmouth many years ago. He wasn't a gardener himself, but Brother David Stephen was. On one particular Palm Sunday the palm crosses were made from very fresh, green pliable palm and David Stephen told Harry that he could plant his palm and it would grow. Now, that sounds like a wind-up to me, but David Stephen, honest friar that he was, could grow anything. I've no idea how he persuaded it to root, but it did, and Brother Harry was delighted with his tree. I never got away from the friary without a pilgrimage up the hill to see Brother Harry's tree.
At about that time, the TV chef Gary Rhodes did a programme from the friary, and cooked lunch for the monks. Harry was helping in the kitchen at the time, and seemed to be a doing a lot of fetching and carrying in the line of the cameras. He is now waving palm branches in heaven, and I'm sure had a good Palm Sunday. Whether the tree is still there, I really don't know.
Brother Harry was a warm, funny brother at the Franciscan House at Alnmouth many years ago. He wasn't a gardener himself, but Brother David Stephen was. On one particular Palm Sunday the palm crosses were made from very fresh, green pliable palm and David Stephen told Harry that he could plant his palm and it would grow. Now, that sounds like a wind-up to me, but David Stephen, honest friar that he was, could grow anything. I've no idea how he persuaded it to root, but it did, and Brother Harry was delighted with his tree. I never got away from the friary without a pilgrimage up the hill to see Brother Harry's tree.
At about that time, the TV chef Gary Rhodes did a programme from the friary, and cooked lunch for the monks. Harry was helping in the kitchen at the time, and seemed to be a doing a lot of fetching and carrying in the line of the cameras. He is now waving palm branches in heaven, and I'm sure had a good Palm Sunday. Whether the tree is still there, I really don't know.
Friday, 15 April 2011
The eighty-somethings
Yesterday was the last toddler group before Easter, and one of our helpers is celebrating her 85th birthday at the end of this month. She's still driving, still helping with toddlers, and she brought tiny, sweetie-decorated cupcakes for the children. She's the same vintage as the queen.
Having said that, Mum's older than she is, and Dad's over 90. I was reminded recently of a story he told me about taking Boy Scouts camping during the war, and asked him to send me his account of it.
Stop there. Think about life in the twenties, thirties, and so on. Think of life as it was then, and the changes the 80+ generation have seen.
Then ask them to tell you their stories, now, while they can. When an old person dies, we lose a library.
Having said that, Mum's older than she is, and Dad's over 90. I was reminded recently of a story he told me about taking Boy Scouts camping during the war, and asked him to send me his account of it.
Stop there. Think about life in the twenties, thirties, and so on. Think of life as it was then, and the changes the 80+ generation have seen.
Then ask them to tell you their stories, now, while they can. When an old person dies, we lose a library.
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