Random Friday post

candles

We have a family friend that sporadically pops in to see us for no reason in particular, but often present us with some peculiar find from one of the many car boot sales he frequents. It is often a bit of a challenge to decide what to do with these things, especially on the odd occasion we can’t actually make out what our latest present is, but this week I definitely knew they were candles. They’re a bit naff, but make surprisingly good company, and are working a treat to cover the wafts emanating from last night’s fajitas venture. Even though I washed up and everything.

Please excuse the tiles too. Previous house owners taste. There is no accounting for it…

Sewing machining outside is more difficult than you would think, a washed tissue stuck in your pocket isn’t always the disaster that you think it is, especially when your pen leaks, and cats really don’t like being spritzed. Particularly of note in drought areas.

Don’t say I don’t teach you things.

Happy weekend people x

The Vyne

The Vyne - drive

The Vyne

green

face on a tree

host of golden daffodils

chicken

gardening

Today I put on some tweed, and thereafter felt a sudden need to plan a day ahead that would match my outfit. As luck would have it, a free range mother came wondering past as inspiration struck, and we thus bundled ourselves into my little ‘blue bullet’ and headed for ‘The Vyne’, (a National Trust property near to Basingstoke for those who aren’t familiar), that is both magnificent and magnificently tranquil.

I watched that chicken dig that hole and then hide three worms down it. She then surreptitiously stood in front of said hole with the passing of other hens.

It made me fall in love with her.

And feel very guilty about what we’re having for dinner.

Connect four

Friends

A happy littering of serendipity has befallen me lately. This year so far I am back in touch with at least four people that I haven’t spoken to in years, and it’s been truly lovely to catch up on all the news and latest plans for cars/babies/extensions/holidays/hair do’s, and another opportunity to extend my straw poll on whether I should attend ‘Strictly Live’ next year. Lucy told me it straight; ‘Men doing latin’.

Incidentally, happy anniversary Lucy and Charlie for next week, wishing you many more.

Old friendships being rekindled has also got me thinking about all of the people who contribute to my bubble. Indeed I am the sort of girl who has never found herself as part of an enduring group, rather I have formed alliances over the years with all sorts of different people where our lives have crossed paths. My old Guide leader, a naval colleague who is currently transporting my reindeer slippers around the world, and the daughter of a vicar who moved to Reading – who knew a friend in university halls – that went to school with my ex-boyfriend, are amongst these treasured people. And I love it. I love that the history of my friendships often have no interconnection with any others, but when we all get together on occasions, we all get on famously. I love that when I see my friends, the variable mixture of personalities leads to us doing different things, talking about different things, and invariably learning different things. This feeds me like nothing else does and I am fast learning that whereas abandoning dairy and chocolate has been possible (bar that one after eight that would have gone off), a life without the company of these people is not. You see therefore the return of four more makes me inordinately happy.

Cheesy, but this is so.

I would also like to take this opportunity to pay my dues to the Poppet who sent me the card above. In it she reminds me that ‘Life can be hard, but it has many rewards, and the cherry on the hypothetical cupcake (we eat a lot of cake), is the time spent with friends’.

I thank her for many things, particularly for understanding my most recent predicament of being a stalk. I can only hope that she is one day rewarded with her Mother-in-Law understanding that a carnation and chrysanthemum combo is no longer socially acceptable.

Part 1: Things that slightly concern me, Wednesday

I have many dear friends who are currently expecting, and I really would like to be there for them and offer my support in their hour(s) of need. Indeed I am not at all adverse to nappy changing, feeding, bouncing, twirling, putting it in a box until it stops crying, or force feeding it tixylix. What I would welcome however, is some advice on how to be there for my companions who might suffer from a seemingly common misconception of new parents, that their new born is in fact a farmyard animal. I have included some examples below:

Baby sheep

This poor parent has obviously been led to believe they have taken ownership of a sheep-come-fairy. Please note the slightly dazed look on the child’s face as it struggles to come to terms with being turned out to pasture.

Pig Baby

This unsuspecting child, I fear, may belong to parents that are also confused as to what sort of livestock it is. We can only take heed from the fact that it is possibly temporarily oblivious to the situation.

Lion baby

This child is obviously owned by ambitious parents who have disregarded the farm animal potential of their child completely, and have just gone straight in there with one of the ‘big cats’. Now is that a look of contentment? Is the bow too tight? Or is the child demonstrating that it doesn’t yet possess the motor skills to remove this ridiculous example of millinery?

Mohican baby

This one I find particularly disturbing, largely to the fact I can not think what this represents other than a skunk. Is this really a label you want to saddle your child with from an early age?

Sheep Baby 2

Here we have another variation on a theme. I believe the positioning of the ears however throws off the whole aesthetic.

Shark baby

Little comprehension of potential ramifications of taking it swimming.

Yoda

Professes to be Yoda. I suspect of IBM heritage.

So here we have but a few examples that underline my concerns as to what might be facing my friends and their offspring in the coming weeks and months. I can only hope that I may be able to assist in directing them away from apparel likely to lead to the confusion of their new arrivals in later life.

Elephant

Point in hand. Has ‘Single, Sys Admin’ written all over it.

All considered however, it does at least solve one mystery for me that has been another point of distraction for a number of years – why we send cards to parents displaying such sentiments as:

It's a girl

It’s a public information service. Perhaps more effective if given the prefix ‘FYI’?

Spring is springing

yellowy twigs

My field

snowdrops

At last it’s starting to feel like spring has sprung. It’s been a manky grey this week, but I’m glossing over that and feeling rather cock-a-hoop that I have spotted snowdrops, crocuses and bluebells beginning to emerge from their winter hidey hole, and the world has taken on that comforting warm, little bit like when you put your head inside a bag of compost, kind of smell.

Oh, and as pictured above, ‘my field’ is looking awesome with green grassy stuff popping up everywhere which I am yet unable to identify as this year’s crop. On my last visit there were rabbits and deer munching away to their hearts content, and I might have managed to get a snap, had they not been scared away by the camera lens making a noisy exit into its case when the battery ran out.

I have been trying to keep to a ‘getting fit’ regime recently which has entailed many a walk over the woods and fields, and I’m so glad it has. Recent years have felt like a bit of a tread mill when it was difficult to differentiate between one month and the next, but my enforced ‘at least 20 minutes a day’ has put me back in touch with seasons, and occasionally, sunshine. For which I am very grateful.

Happy Valentine’s Day

For the men I know, an expression of my sympathy. To my own Husband, thank you for still marrying me.

A short note to the most considerate girl (to be my wife this spring),
I hope this will pre-empt more questioning,
Of why right now we aren’t flying to Venice,
Business class on a mystery premise,
Why you didn’t wake this morning to a thousand blooms,
Or something sparkly as one assumes,
It’s just my cherub, my light, you see where I’m heading,
This year instead you planned a wedding,
The season ticket, golf membership and any booze,
I agree was worth giving up for Jimmy Choos,
And you’re right, the swans do set the tone,
And the olive trees flown in from Rome…
And what are chairs without covers (who’d sit on a naked chair?),
Or choose the cheaper rice pudding over an elegant eclair?
But you see my sweet, investment this way,
Has meant a slightly different Valentines Day,
The M&S meal for two says on the packet ‘divine’,
And Alan from Threshers got in your favourite wine,
On your arrival home, candles will be lit,
There’ll be a rose petal bath in which to sit,
Just, my love, this morning you didn’t say when you’d be home,
Nor do you appear to be answering your phone,
Or your texts, faxes, voicemail or landline,
Then there’s recorded delivery you refused to sign…
I’m sure it’s because you’re tied up, so I shall leave you with this,
If there was anyone in the world I’d rather kiss,
It’d be you, you are truly without any flaws,
Lots of love your Fiancé…

The credit card’s yours.

So this is what happened…

In approximately a week’s time my beloved and I were set to pack our lives into suitcases, give our house keys to some select strangers in return for rent money, and move to the United States of America. Boston, in fact.

One however can not always foresee the visa application process not following its intended course.

Still our fact finding mission in November last year threw light on a number of interesting points of note I thought I’d share with you – just in case you yourself are about to embark on a similar endeavour.

1) At the car hire place, when offered a free upgrade to a mini van, take it. Your choice of car (although completely adorable and, if you think about it, really quite funny…) means your husband will look like this. All week.

Neil standing next to 'The Beast'

2) When an estate agent tries to sell you a ‘ranch house’, and your mind conjures up a whole host of romantic and whimsical images of skipping through pastures green whilst the cattle graze on yonder hillock – they really mean a wooden bungalow. On a main road. Next to a gas station.

Ranch House in Newton, MA.

3) Ovens are HUGE. Even the little ones. This one was used exclusively at Thanksgiving and Christmas and for the remaining period as useful storage for an overflow of crockery.  This is not unusual. (Point of note – this is the kitchen we removed from our old house in England and we have seen many times since. Did everyone own this kitchen at one time or another?).

The omnipresent kitchen

4) A ‘full disclosure’ is normally provided with every house viewing (or ‘showing’ as our friends across the pond would have it).

Expect information to be forthcoming

5) A garden or ‘yard’ is normally only considered the domain of people with pets or children. Otherwise a deck for the purpose of ‘grilling with friends’ is thought sufficient.

An example of a deck. Perhaps not the best.

6) If you’re posh you frequent Starbucks. If you wear a Burberry hat at a jaunty angle and drive a modified motor vehicle, Dunkin’ Donuts is considered your crib.

The sun shines on the Woburn ('Wooburn') Dunkin'

7)  If One is employed in public services, work must be carried out during daylight hours.

Please note: an actor was used for purposes of re-enactment. This photograph does not represent a true occurrence.

8 ) Unfortunately my dry wit was ill received as it transpires no one has ever heard of Duncan Goodhew.

Local Reading store

9) You can travel half way across the globe, but still end up right back where you started.

En route

10) See.

Welcome to Reading, MA.

Reading, MA. high street.

11) They even have the same newspaper…

The Reading Chronicle

12) Our mini adventure ended with a trip to the beach at sunset where we watched as the plane that would take us home landed, ate chips, and froze ourselves to death. Just like England really.

Plane coming in to land at Logan airport

True Brit enjoying some bracing sea air.

Only a little bit different.

Making sense of it all

Sometimes it is just a bit too difficult to explain. Sometimes you just need to draw a line underneath it and put it down to experience.

Here I am, and a belated Happy New Year.

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