To be read with a British accent.

I can’t think of anything humorous to post about at the moment. Well nothing humorous has happened with us, so I’ve decided to tell you about something I have to do for somebody else, who hereinafter will be referred to as ‘The friend‘.

I was asked….. no I was cajoled….. no actually, if I’m being honest, I was emotionally blackmailed into doing this thing.

“Sindie would have been so proud to have her painting hanging next to yours”

These were the words that were used in order for me to absolutely have to say yes.  The friend knew I couldn’t say no to that.

Once I had agreed to paint the one that makes a single a pair, what do I discover?  I’ll tell you what I discover.  It’s a flippin’ great 50 x 40 inch canvas, that’s what I discover.  AND I have to go in search of a matching canvas.  Can I find a matching canvas?  No, I flipping can’t!

I had just about given up on my search and decided that the friend would have to get a canvas made to measure – and pay a small fortune for it, when the phone rang.

“I think I’ve found the right size canvas”

It was Mo calling from a shopping warehouse.  It turned out that she had found the right size canvas, with one problem.  The canvas was supposed to be a ‘block’ canvas (40mm deep), and this was just an ordinary canvas of about 18mm.

I sent an email to the friend “You’ll need to put wood battening around the back of the frame to thicken it.  Hubby can do that easily” I said.  What happened?  They flippin’ well bring the wood here and leave me to it, is what happened.

Are you still in the British accent?

This is not thin wood.  It’s thick, and hard to saw, and bowed, and it was a nightmare to do, and my hands are killing me now.

Then I had to fill all the gaps with flexible wood filler.  Then I had to paint it with two coats of emulsion to prime it.  Then………….

Then…..

Nothing!

“I can’t do it”  I moan.  “I can’t paint like Sindie did.  She used a brush and I never use brushes.”

“Of course you can.  Just paint it”  Says Mo, who doesn’t understand the finer things like ‘creative juices’ or ‘inspiration’ or that you need to be in the mood for painting.

The canvas sits for a week.

“When are you going to do this painting?” Mo calls from the utility (cats) room.  “I can’t move out here, it’s so big”

I finally work out a system for doing this monster.  I get my pot of Gesso and paint it all over the canvas with a brush, in the design of the painting, to get the brush mark texture.  I will start laying on the paint tomorrow.

Tomorrow comes and we have a visitor.  It’s Michael and he wants me to design and print the order of service for Pam.  I’m more than happy to do this, but it’s a long job.

I’ll get to the painting eventually.

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This post is in memory of our dear friend Pam, who lost her fight against cancer this morning.

She was a fun loving person, who shared much laughter with us over the ten years we knew her.

This was Pam playing the ghost of Christmas past in our comedy take on ‘The Christmas carol’.  She was a disco queen.  She also played the ghost of Christmas future, and an angel, so a lot of costume changes were needed. As always, she got plenty of laughs from the audience.

This next one was taken during Pam’s hilarious performance as Jahlil, the slave of the fourth wise man, in the show of the same name.  She managed to maintain the difficult accent and exaggerated Arabian character throughout the show, and was a great hit.

Pam and Michael clowning around as part of our puppet theatre.

Pam was a kindhearted, caring and fun loving friend who will be missed terribly.

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Do you remember me telling you that our next door neighbour demolished his garden?  Then we found out that it was because he was going to renovate his house.  Well it’s all finished and they are now living there again.  I must admit that he has done a wonderful job of doubling the size of his house.

This is a photo of the back of our house. It has three good sized bedrooms, and isn’t considered a small house by UK standards.  His house was exactly the same, minus the extension.

Look at it now.  The dark bricks show the original size.

He raised the roof by a small amount, added a second apex and has bedrooms for his kids up there.  The house is now huge by comparison.   I expect it’s out priced for this road, but if he doesn’t ever intend to move, what does it matter?

They have now cleared the garden of rubble and will work on that next year.  I’m guessing a paved garden.  It looks like they have raised and flattened the earth, removing the incline that our gardens have.  We shall see.  I’m sure it will look beautiful whatever they choose to do.

Do you think, if I ask nicely, he’ll swap houses?

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I hope some of you know a thing or two about plants, because I’m going to ask you a gardening question.  No, don’t run away, I need your help.  Well, I don’t actually need your botanical help but I would like your comments anyway, so please continue reading.

Mo and I have been planting some …. well …. plants and I noticed something very weird the next day.  Look at this one and you will see two different colour flowers coming from the same plant.

Now I know what you’re all saying  “It’s just where the roots of two plants got entangled”.  Well, that’s what I thought when I saw it.

BUT……

Look at this next one.

This one is much easier to lift the leaves and examine and I kid you not, the two different colour flowers are growing from the same plant.   You want proof?  Tough!  You only get my word for it because I couldn’t lift the leaves and squat in an ungainly position to take the photo on my own.  “Where was Mo?” I hear you ask.  Well Mo would have been willing to hold the plant for me, but I’m not as nimble as I once was, so laying on the floor to get a side shot of a plant stem is just not an option.  In fact………

I was taking photos of the cats and I thought “Wouldn’t it be nice to get some shots down at their level, instead of looking down on them.  Livvie was on our decking (about a foot off the ground) so I grabbed the opportunity.

I assumed a ’squat’ position…..

involuntarily rolled backwards, ending up with my legs in the air…..

laughed like a drain…..

scrambled (and I mean scrambled) to my feet…..

tripped on the guy rope holding our gazebo down and broke it!

It should have been on video. AND I didn’t even get the shot of Livvie! You still expect plant stem photos?

Here is proof if you want it.  One broken guy rope.

Mo fixing a new one up.

So here’s the question.  Has anyone ever seen this in a plant before, or does anybody know how it happens?

More to the point.  Does anybody know how I can get decent floor shots and stay upright?

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We always looked forward to the days we would get to wear our rag boots.

Dad would tear up old sheets, or any fabric mum could find that had seen it’s best days.  When he had enough large squares and strips of fabric he’d say “Who’s first?”  My sisters and I would crowd around him and one at a time we’d sit on the floor.  “Foot up” he’d say, and we’d hold our foot up in the air as high as we could, so dad could rest it on his knee.  He’d place a piece of cloth around our foot and wrap strips around, until it took the shape of a boot.  Then he would tie a tiny strip around the ankle to keep it all in place.  “Next foot”.  We’d offer up our other foot for the same treatment.  Once we all had our rag boots on dad would say “OK, off you go!”

We’d go skating!

Round and round we’d go, sliding around and giggling. What fun we had.  Sometimes we would skate so hard that one of our boots would come loose and dad would have to fix it for us.  Off we’d go again.  Round and round and round. We hadn’t ever seen ice skating.  There were no TV’s then, so to be able to skate without roller skates was very cool to us.  Eventually, dad would say “OK girls! It’s all done now”  One by one he would remove the rags from our feet and we’d slip back into our shoes.

In the 1950’s, kitchens had linoleum for floor covering.  We also only had carbolic soap and water to clean it with.  Dad would get down on his hands and knees with a bucket of water, a block of soap, a scrubbing brush and a large rag for rinsing.  I can still see dad in my minds eye, wringing out the rag and spreading in on the floor, then with large circular motions he would remove all the dirt and suds.  This was one of his jobs – a man’s job, as he would say.  There were many things that dad considered to be a man’s job, like fetching coal for the fire or taking the rubbish out. He often washed all the heavy pots and pans after a meal or cleaned the cooker.  He was quite the ‘modern man’ for the 1950’s.

Once he’d scrubbed and rinsed the floor, and it had dried, he would get down on his hands and knees once more, open a large flat tin of polish and with a cloth he would rub polish into the linoleum, a patch at a time, working his way around the kitchen.  It was a back-breaking job – a man’s job. Polish needed to be buffed up to a shine, and this is where we came into the equation.

A great bit of ingenuity on dad’s part and great fun for us girls.

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We have been doing a bit of gardening, and as we’re old fogies, and it was rather warm, we had a few tea breaks.

These are some of the conversations that took place during our breaks.

Tea-break #1

Mo:  (whispers) “Did you hear me?”

Me:  “Yes”

Mo:  (still whispering) “What did I say?”

Me:  (Stupid question) “Did you hear me”

Mo:  Laughs hysterically.

Me:  “What?” (quickly realizing that the ‘Did you hear me’ came after whatever it was I didn’t hear)

Tea-break #2

Mo had hurt her big toe.  Well her words were “I think I’ve ripped my toenail off”  She hadn’t, but it was a tad bloody.  When I say a tad, I mean a tiny spot of blood. Hardly indicative of ripping a toenail off!  Her feet were very dirty from the gardening though.

Mo:  (looking for sympathy) Look at my poor toe”

Me:  “Hmm yes.  You’d better go and instigate it”

Mo: (laughing)  Yes, I better go and sterilize it”

INSTIGATE?!!

How does STERILIZE come out as INSTIGATE?

Does your brain go on a kind of Google search for words, find one missing and say to itself “Oh blow this for a game of soldiers, I’ll give her any random word, she’ll never notice”?  Actually brain, I DO notice.  In fact I notice it happening more and more.  You are getting rather sloppy of late, and I am NOT happy!

However, you’ll see from the next tea break that I’m not the only one with this sloppy brain syndrome.  Is it catching I wonder?  If so I just BET Mo passed it to me!

Tea-break #3

We were talking about the fact that when I got my first computer, I just assumed that you were meant to use the mouse in the left hand, leaving the right hand free for other important stuff. I was creating all my graphics, in fact I was doing everything, with my left hand, even though I am right handed.  Some years later, I got a new computer and decided to change the mouse over to my right hand.  Surprisingly I was quite happy to do my graphics (and everything else) with my right hand, without any re-adjustment.

Me:  “Strange wasn’t it?  I couldn’t possibly write with my left hand, yet I was able to do detailed graphics with it.”

Mo:  “That’s because you’re aspidistra”.

Me:  “I think the word you’re looking for is ambidextrous”

Fortunately we are able to get lots of laughter from these ‘Grey Cell moments’.  To be honest, Mo and I could find something to laugh about just watching paint dry!

It doesn’t always take the form of words.  Sometimes it can be a really silly action too, like the time I opened a packet of tea bags to fill the caddy.  They wouldn’t fit in and I was pressing them down as firmly as I could, thinking “WHY won’t they go in? They usually fit in EASILY”  Then I regained my senses and noticed that I was trying to stuff 144 tea bags into my tea cup!

It’s generally assumed that it only happens to people of a certain age, but I know that isn’t the case, so how about letting me in on your best ‘Grey Cell Moment’.

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I was cleaning the kitchen shelves and as started to remove bits a memory came flooding back to me, and I smiled.  I thought I’d share it with you all.

This little coffee set belonged to mum.  When she died my sisters and I chose some of her belongings as keepsakes. The coffee set probably held no memories for any of my sisters, but to me it did.

“Would you like a cup of coffee?”

We lived in a large house.  Mum and dad had the ground floor and I had the top floor.  I had popped down for something and mum was in her kitchen, which is where you would usually find her, pottering around cooking, or busying herself with something.  She loved her kitchen.  It was her room and dad had lovingly fitted it out and decorated it just as mum liked it.  Checking everything would be perfect for her as he went, he would call her in and ask “Is this going to be the right height for you duck?” or “Where would you like me to put this?” Duck was one of his (very British) pet names for mum.

I knew that mum treasured these moments, when she could sit with one of her girls and have some quality, one to one time.   It had been impossible as I was growing up because we were such a large family.  I was the second to youngest and that meant that the house was always full of kids.  When I reached my teenage years most of my siblings were married.  Those of us that were still living at home were doing our own thing.   Time passed and mum and dad were alone now.  We’d all married and left home.  I had never really thought about it, but as I write this I realise that Mum, who had always stayed home with her children, must have missed the hustle and bustle of her large family at times.

“Would you like a cup of coffee?”

“OK then” I replied.  I was probably busy but I knew how much it meant to mum.  Whatever I was doing could wait.

“Shall we have it in my special coffee set?” mum said with a little grin and a touch of childish excitement.  I don’t know where she bought the coffee set, or what Fu and Yo means, but it must have caught mum’s eye while out browsing the shops one day.  She had never used it before and it wasn’t really practical for instant coffee but mum loved to do fun things.

“Go on then” I said smiling.

She busied herself filling the various jugs and setting it all out on the table, chatting as she did.  “Which cup would you like, Fu or Yo?” she said with a grin.  I can’t remember which I had.  We sat sipping coffee, chatting, giggling and continually topping up the tiny cups until we had finally finished the coffee.  I then went upstairs and continued whatever I was doing, leaving mum to lovingly wash her little coffee set and put it away until the next time she fancied a ’special’ cup of coffee.

These were treasured moments for mum in her later life, and they are most definitely treasured memories for me now.

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Some of you may remember THIS post, when I told you that my nephew Chris, was going to Buckingham Palace for lunch.  The day has now come and gone, and what a day it was for Chris and Matt, his co-director.

Rather than me tell Chris’ story I thought it best to let you see what Chris had to say about the experience.

We jumped on the train yesterday morning and arrived at the side entrance of the palace only to be told that we were expected at the main front gate!  They were Changing the Guard at the time, so to the sound of a marching band and under the watchful gaze of thousands of tourists, we were ushered into the palace.

We were then escorted to the balcony room (THE balcony – where that very famous Royal wedding kiss took place in 1981).

It was a very intimate affair, only about 20-30 people. Palace staff bought us gin and tonics and we took in the sumptuous surrounding and history that surrounded us.  Prince Edward, Earl of Wessex arrived and walked around the room chatting. We discussed the recent YouTube Channel we have created for DofE and he explained what a fight he had getting ‘this place’  onto YouTube! He was a funny, down to earth and charming man.

After lunch (yes, the food was amazing), we all chatted some more, Prince Edward talked about the digital future of DofE and thanked us all for our hard work on The Award’s website, we had coffee and he said goodbye and left us to enjoy and explore the surroundings, portraits and antiques that line the main corridor.

It was a unique experience, and one that Matt and I will remember for a long time.“

Chris outside the main gates.

What a lovely day to remember, sadly with a strict no photo policy, only these few photos taken outside, and none of the actual event, but you can’t have everything eh?

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You know, I had a sudden thought today, that us older women could never strike up a sexy pose, no matter how hard we tried.  I decided to test out my theory, and what better model for this test than Mo?

I asked her to put on the most sexy expressions that she could, telling her which expression I wanted as we went.  In each of the categories, I have selected the best shot I could capture for you.

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The Sultry Glare
The first of these looks, and the most often used, is the ‘Sultry glare’.  This is a look that most of the 14 year old girls on Facebook use.  probably because they are still in the ‘pouting’ stage of their lives anyway, and find this an easy transition.  — This is Mo’s sultry glare.

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The Sexy Lick
Another commonly used pose is the sexy lick. This is not used by the 14 year olds on Facebook.  Probably because they had mum spitting on a hanky until recently.  — Mo’s sexy lick.
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The Finger in the Mouth
The gentle tickling of the lip with a finger is another well used pose, or a little bite on the finger, with the mouth slightly open.  The 14 year olds on Facebook (that are not giving the sultry glare) are more likely to bite the finger off completely, or at least look like they intend to.  — Mo’s finger in the mouth.
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The chin Tuck Pout
This is similar to the Sultry Glare, but with the chin tucked down giving you a more coy expression.  14 year olds on Facebook do NOT want to look coy!  — Mo’s chin tuck pout.
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I think you’ll agree that Mo’s attempts at these facial expression do not have quite the same results as they do when used by the younger models.

But wait!

We move on to an even better test in order to see if wrinklies can look sexy.

I give you …..

the famous …..

Cadburys Flake adverts!

You can judge for yourselves how well Mo held her own against the young and the beautiful.

I rest my case.

Throughout this whole photo shoot, we were laughing hysterically.  I have no idea what our neighbours think of us.  Then again, we don’t really care what our neighbours think of us.

How do you think Mo held up for the wrinklies?

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Mo has a real habit of stating the obvious when you ask her a question.  She answers questions literally, and it can be quite annoying at times.  Other times, unintentionally funny.  This conversation is a prime example of what I have to put up with every time I ask her a question about something.

Mo: “I’d better go and clean the car. It’s got bird poo all over it”

Babs: “Has it – where from?”

Mo:  “Birds”

Babs:  “Well I didn’t think it was flying pigs!”

Mo: Laughs, and goes off to clean the car.

I still don’t know where she went to get all the bird poo on the car, and I never will either.  This time it was funny and we both had a good laugh, but it really does infuriate me at times.

She might make some little gizmo out of wood and when I see it, I am intrigued. The conversation will go something like this…..

Babs (wanting to know what it’s for)  “What’s this?”

Mo:  “Wood”

Babs:  (Irritated by Mo’s refusal to cooperate) “Well I KNOW it’s wood.  What’s it FOR?!!”

Finding out what Mo is up to is like trying to pry the lid off of a rusty paint can with a cotton bud.  I’m thinking of carefully wording my questions in the future.  Something like …..

“Mo, this little gizmo that you have made out of wood.  What are you going to use it for?”

Even then It’s possible that I will get an answer like “Oh, just something”

She says that she doesn’t know why she does it.  All I know is that it is a real source of frustration for me.

Is this peculiar to Mo, or do any of you have to suffer this, or similar?

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