Where does the time go?

It suddenly occurred to me that nothing has been written on here for a month! There are no whimsical Christmas pictures, no New Year shenanigans and no resolutions.

Now Dear Reader, I could rectify that and bore you rigid with numerous pictures of people you don’t know drinking and cavorting. I could pontificate about all the things I plan to do this year differently and better. But I shan’t. Instead I shall say just a couple of things that won’t , I promise, make you throw up in a bucket.

Last year was a year of opportunities that came and were acted upon with gusto. The year began badly but unfolded into the best one that there has been for some time. Between meeting and writing for many and various folks, a new book club which introduced me  to some quite amazing ladies, a very good holiday letting summer and autumn and a gift of a part in a play to seeing the small people and the slightly older ones grow and thrive, 2014 was a year to look back on and smile. If this year is even half as good then I’ll be happy with that.

I am no richer in money terms. I’m yet another year older (and certainly no wiser) but I go into 2015 with optimism, my health and some occasions to very much look forward to.

And that’s what it’s all about really isn’t it?

I know that I said no photos but you get one- just because it makes me smile and because I am so very proud of them both.

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There once was a windmill….

Funnily enough, windmills were the one thing that we didn’t see on our little sojourn to Amsterdam. In fact there were three predominant themes – bicycles, flowers and canals – and plenty of all of those to be going on with. Oh yes and there was also cheese.

It is the most chilled of cities and easy to get around. TG tried to persuade me to cycle but I was too much of a wuss what with it being on the wrong side of the road and fearing for my life under a tram. But bicycles there were a plenty.

There was an amazing array of bulbs and flowers and we brought lots of tulip bulbs home in every imaginable weird colour which have all been potted up ready for the spring.

How can they only €8 for 50????

We did some of the tourist stuff – a canal cruise, the Van Gogh Museum and the Stedelijk but we mostly wandered, had some lovely food (try an Indonesian rice table if you go there – 18 dishes on a small table for two is no mean feat!) and drank quite a bit of the old vino collapse.

 We both said that we’d like to go back again. It’s the ideal place for a short break or long weekend. It’s got a bit of everything and we even had good weather! Een uitstekende bezoek!

 

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In which it is spectaularly sunny

 

There comes a time Dear Reader when you need to rest your brain for a bit. Yesterday was my day to give the grey matter a little holiday and so TG and I took ourselves off for a nice long walk in the beautiful warm sunshine.

We walked from Sandown, through Shanklin to Luccombe along the prom to begin with.

I do love to see the Island when it is at its best and the sunny weather had loads of folks out and about on the beach and on the water.

We took the coastal path through to Luccombe and passed not a single other soul which was just what we’d had in mind .

With the turquoise sea and the hot sunshine you could have been in the Med somewhere. After a three hour round trip we found ourselves up on the cliff path with its spectacular views.

And repaired  to The Beach Shack for crab cakes and squid. My phone app said that we had done six and a half miles but I think it may have been a bit more than that!!

Sometimes a little time out from people and chores and work and life in general is just what is needed to recharge the batteries.

We are so very lucky to have all of this a fifteen minute drive away and I can assure you that we never take it for granted. A fun day of quiet walking, chatting about this and that, plans for the future and just being. And to be highly recommended. So if you get the chance to spend an hour or two just being, then go for it. It does a body good!

*TG asked why I was taking a picture of the above. I said that I loved the colours and the faded shabby look of it. He said that all he could see was some wood that needed rubbing down and painting……*sigh*

 

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In which Twitter comes up trumps

Well now Dear Reader, Spring is in the air and all is well with the world. My absence here, not that I’m sure any of you noticed, has been due to having other fish to fry elsewhere which have been taking up lots of time.

I have long harboured a desire to make my bits of scribblings more than they are and I have been working hard to get myself out there to whoever is interested. This has been one of the most frustrating things in the known universe as it seems that these days, e mails and voicemails are things to be summarily ignored and there are very few people who bother to get back to you even if it’s only to say that they aren’t interested.

Finally though, after much wailing and gnashing of teeth, things have been slowly getting themselves together. I have been asked to write a gardening piece for a new digital magazine, have written some ad copy, have had a piece published on a ‘writers for writers’ website and may have got myself a copy writing gig. I have to say, that most of this success can be laid firmly at Twitter’s door. What a useful little tool that has proved to be and considering the fact that I only really started to use it properly in January, has reaped me much reward.

 So things are moving forward. Slowly but surely. The ‘big’ project has ground to a bit of a halt as I wait for various people to do various things which is beyond frustrating and beyond my control. But I shall keep plugging away and hopefully get it on the move again. So it’s been a busy time. The holiday let is booked up for pretty much the whole of the Summer which will keep us out of mischief and the house like a Chinese laundry but it’s a relief when the bank statement comes!

The pictures in the post are of the weekend just gone which was glorious. We’re at a funny stage in the garden where all the primroses and tulips are out and so are the geraniums from last year which all survived a Winter in the greenhouse. I slaved like nobody’s business yesterday and came in bleeding and bruised after my efforts. But it is really starting to look good out there and the veg is coming along nicely in the greenhouse. Madam Rainbow spent the afternoon with me sunbathing and generally getting in the way and it was lovely.

I also finished off these little fellows which I had a mind to sell but wasn’t sure if they were ‘Eastery’ enough

Maybe not. There were also some others that I made for smaller peeps to go with their chocolate chickens.

So there you go. As you can see, I haven’t been idle and there’s plenty more where all that came from. Little acorns Dear reader. Little acorns.

 

 

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Time time see what’s become of me…..

Somebody (and I can’t remember who) told me that between 30 and 40 the years start to speed up and between 40 and 50 they positively zip along and you spend your life wondering where all the time has gone! This so absolutely true and despite working only part time these days, the time is passing by in a most unseemly manner. The mornings are squashed full of projects, writing and small children and the weekends are equally full of small children, gardening and all the things that didn’t get squashed into the mornings. I seem to be busier than I ever was, which is a very good thing, but I’m frustrated by all the things that I just can’t seem to make happen. Grrr!

Anyway the past weekend went by in yet another blur of frenzied activity. There were seeds planted by small peeps, a gathering of 14 at the Indian to welcome the Folliers home, the pub attended in a rather too enthusiastic manner, a spot of clothes shopping achieved and an article submitted to a new source (please let them like it, please, please). The ‘big project’ (of which more when it comes together) is proving to be frustratingly slow and I have become a frenzied voicemail hater. There is a show on the horizon in which I shall be playing a Scottish medium and a film treatment in the treating as well as other creative thoughts in the thinking……my oh my and heavens above.

It’s great to be busy, really great, but it was nice to have a small amount of almost down time at the weekend (if you don’t count the endless questions and steward’s enquiries over EVERYTHING). The Small Boy told me that he REALLY loves me and the Eldest Girl had more than a few hugs about her person. They make my heart glad. My own lovely children too marked Mother’s Day with beautiful bouquets and chats. They make my heart glad too.

The week ahead will include the ‘project’, my new book club where I’ve met some great new people – it’s up the drive this week so not too far to stagger home – (who knew how much wine flowed at book clubs!), a meeting with a new Twitter friend and hopefully fewer bloody voice mails to be unreturned!!

Whatever the weather Dear Reader and with the days flying by, enjoy whatever it is that you might be doing, your own projects,your small people and your gardens. I know I shall even if I do, as my Nan used to say, meet myself on the way back.

 

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The staff of life

Once upon a time long long ago Dear Reader, when you were but a twinkle in your daddy’s eye, I lived in Ireland. I lived there from when I was around 2ish until I was 17 and left the Emerald Isle to go to drama school in Guildford. I have absolutely no hankering to go back there (and in fact the sunny Isle is not unlike the Emerald one) but don’t visit my mother often enough there as she constantly reminds me. I don’t feel that there is anything there for me any more and I have lived here in the UK now for 30 years. I see my mother here several times a year – in case you thought that I’d heartlessly abandoned her, but there are one or two things that I still love about my Irish years – music and poetry is one and Tayto crisps and soda bread are some of the others.

Soda bread. Much beloved of the Irish the world over and a doddle to make. When we were kids, my mother making bread was more of a threat than a promise and when it snowed and we were stuck up the mountain, often home made bread would be produced…..The very best soda bread came from Lily Cahill’s shop in the local town of Rathdrum and slathered with butter it was the best breakfast and tea staple. I haven’t made any for years not least due to the lack of availability of buttermilk which doesn’t seem to be stocked by any supermarket here more’s the pity.

And so I improvised with a dollop of natural yoghurt mixed in with the milk which seemed to do the trick. The beauty of the soda loaf is that there is no yeast involved and little or no kneading which suits me just fine.

It must always be marked with a deep cross which I’m sure Catholicism has some hand in but actually also makes for ease of portioning should you wish to share.

It was a lovely thing to behold and made the house smell like days of yore. TG and I had hunks thickly spread with butter to accompany some vegetable soup that I’d made and it was grand.

I may have had another piece with our friend Paul’s honey…

Now I remember why I was an overweight teenager……oh well!

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In which the divine does not intervene!

I thought I’d tell you an amusing little anecdote Dear Reader because it is an anniversary.

This time two years ago was my Dad’s funeral and as we were all gathered in the crematorium we realised that it was also the  Cheltenham Festival which was one of Dad’s favourite race meetings – although in his latter years it was attended only from his armchair. Dad was a largely average gambler and more often than not lost which was a theme throughout my childhood and perhaps best not discussed here. In any case, his mantra was always to ‘pick a topical tip’ and not to change your mind from that tip. I have won moderately in my time using this system and so on funeral day my brothers and I decided that it would be only fitting to have a little flutter at Cheltenham. Form and runners were studied and the obvious choice seemed to be Take Your Cue – obvious because Dad was an actor in his day. There was much frantic placing of bets and we were off……Take your Cue lost fairly spectacularly but guess what won? The most obvious and topical tip of all given the day that was in it – Cinders and Ashes. I kid you not. We could hear Dad laughing at us.

Fast forward to this year and on the same basis as above my brother and I had a few quid on Wicklow Rover – well we were brought up in Wicklow and Mum still lives there. Given that it was 7-1 I was rubbing my hands in glee. There was a dinner and a possible mini break planned. It couldn’t fail really given the day and the mantra. It came….absolutely nowhere. Divine intervention was clearly having an off day. I can still hear Dad laughing!

*I should also mention that we had lawnmowers called Arkle and Aldiniti after particularly good wins…

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Spreading my wings

Here’s a little something that I wrote for those lovely people over at Social Heroes.

Thanks for posting it chaps!

And should you need a social hero Dear Reader, then this young dynamic company is the one for you!

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What to do before a hurricane…

Don’t panic Dear Reader (not that I’m sure you were for one moment). I have not shuffled off this mortal coil or been abducted by aliens or been struck dumb (more’s the pity some might say). No indeed. I have just been inordinately busy with the show, holiday let changeovers and work.

However, just in case you had thought that I might be being idle, I have achieved one or two things in amongst hurricanes had! During the build up to the great windiness that was Sunday here on the blustery Isle (fastest gust of the hurricane recorded just off the Needles at 99mph…) I did a small amount of nesting or cooking as it’s otherwise known. It was a day for the using up of things grown and I made a rather tasty tomato and chickpea soup (the picture does make it look a touch unsavoury but it was ‘licious Nanny)

I also made a pie of sorts with the last of the Bramleys from the tree which was rather lush and included some sultanas, cinnamon and almonds not to mention a liberal sprinkling of dark brown raw cane sugar……also ‘licious Nanny and even more so because TG will not eat cooked fruit in any form (school hangover thing). Net result – pie all for me and the muffin top now more resembling a pie top….

There was also a luscious lemon cake which began life thus

And ended up looking thus.

No. There are no pictures of the finished baked cake because by the time the camera battery had recharged it had been eaten IN ITS ENTIRETY. Honestly, men!!

In any case, by the time the winds had whipped themselves into a frenzy the house smelled most pleasantly of things domestic. We were lucky and got away without any damage to home or person and for that I am indeed thankful. There but for the grace of God and all that…

The only other thing of any note which has occurred as that I have made a little guest appearance over here – they are a very up and coming company based on the Island and I was very delighted to be featured on their blog. I’m itching to do some proper writing and this is my first venture beyond the drivel on here. So if there are any more of you folks out there who’d like a ‘guest’……let me know.

Well I am off now for another week of board treading and general slog. I am hoping to see the small folks at the weekend having been given the 5 year old ‘but you’re always TOO busy to see us’ guilt trip….they always know how to push the buttons don’t they? More amends to make!

 

 

 

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In which five go mad (ish) in St Malo

Picture if you will Dear Reader, five ladies (and I use that term loosely) in pink wigs and scarves, drinks in hand lurching across the dancefloor on a cross channel ferry to possibly the worst cabaret (and I use that term loosely too) I have seen and you will have some approximate idea of my Friday night… I have never actually been on a hen do before – apart from my own about 20 years ago the net result of which was terrible food poisoning and the dodgy Greek restaurant we had chosen being closed down by the health department – but that is a story for perhaps another day! And so we five headed off of the sunny Isle and across the high seas to St Malo for a weekend of drinking, eating and enjoying with a spot of French shopping thrown in for good measure.

I shall save the blushes of (some) of my fellow hens and not talk about flaming Sambuccas / being turfed out of bars / dodgy dancing and kleptomania and instead tell you that we had a most splendid time and show you some of the more acceptable photos……

 

There are a few arty farty ones – but I’ll save those for a later date. Wouldn’t want to get you all over excited. Suffice to say, the bride to be enjoyed herself. Her fellow hens enjoyed themselves. And the crew and fellow passengers on the Bretagne quite enjoyed the spectacle!

Happy days!

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