Since my last teaching day was Thursday, one might suppose the holidays to have started on Friday.
But we went to the dentist on Friday. I hardly think of that as an enjoyable holiday activity. Although there were pluses; no fillings, no replacement crowns, no root canal treatments. And they have started using slightly warm water in that ferocious hurty thing they use to descale one's teeth, which upgrades the experience from painful and unpleasant, to merely unpleasant with the occasional bit of 'youch!'.
Anyway, it is nice to have clean shiny teeth again; tea, or coffee, or possibly some of the tablets I take, make my teeth definitely browner over time.
The offspring were here - as I have said before, dentist time is family-get-together-time as we all roll up for one super-long appointment shared between us.
BB and Daughter and I are all a bit droopy and lacking in energy after long working hours, or too much teaching, or getting over a properly horrible cold. So there was a fair old bit of sitting around in shared book-reading or DS playing or knitting, depending on one's inclination. We did go out on Saturday, and a post about that trip will follow soon.
The dentist was one reason for the weekend reunion - the other was a belated birthday celebration, a belated Mothering Sunday celebration, and an early birthday celebration, one each for three of us. Daughter will have to wait her turn for a few months.
Today feels more like the holidays; because it is a Monday, and I'm still in my dressing gown and not teaching anyone... Second cup of coffee? What a good idea.
Monday, 8 April 2019
Wednesday, 3 April 2019
Wednesday 3rd April - That cat again
that cat, the one that can be in two places at once, chose the wrong place this morning as far as I am concerned.
My fault really, for not closing the bathroom door properly. But I wish she'd make her appearance BEFORE I filled the tub and got in.
She has taken to perching, slightly wobbling, in narrow places; the arm of the settee (broad and covered in fabric), the arm of the leather armchair (narrower, and NOT to have claws stuck into it), the corner of the computer table (arranging her paws around whatever has been left there) and, most irritatingly, the edge of the bath (very narrow, very slippery).
I tried sprinkled a few drips on her head a couple of times, and it seems she likes the taste of warm soapy water judging by the way she licked it off her nose as the drops ran down her face. Finally I lost patience and sloshed a couple of handfuls of water on her, making the bathmat a bit soggy in the process.
She settled down to wash it all off.
I gave up on enjoying a leisurely soak.
We have had cats in the past who used to fall in the bath from time to time.
Hardy tried to walk across a load of washing that was soaking in the bath (back in the days before we had a washing machine). He starting sinking half way across and jumped out, only wet as far as his legs, but we rectified that when we washing the washing powder off. We always thought he was a bit 'dim'.
Another fell in when there was only an inch of water in the bath, but got into such a panic that she had comprehensively saturated every hair on her body, and then ran all over the house several times (still in a panic) before we could catch and dry her. That was Laurel.
We were told to give one of the cats (Laurel again) a bath by a vet, to rid it of a mite infection. When he saw the look on our faces he took back the shampoo and handed over some powder instead.
My fault really, for not closing the bathroom door properly. But I wish she'd make her appearance BEFORE I filled the tub and got in.
She has taken to perching, slightly wobbling, in narrow places; the arm of the settee (broad and covered in fabric), the arm of the leather armchair (narrower, and NOT to have claws stuck into it), the corner of the computer table (arranging her paws around whatever has been left there) and, most irritatingly, the edge of the bath (very narrow, very slippery).
I tried sprinkled a few drips on her head a couple of times, and it seems she likes the taste of warm soapy water judging by the way she licked it off her nose as the drops ran down her face. Finally I lost patience and sloshed a couple of handfuls of water on her, making the bathmat a bit soggy in the process.
She settled down to wash it all off.
I gave up on enjoying a leisurely soak.
We have had cats in the past who used to fall in the bath from time to time.
Hardy tried to walk across a load of washing that was soaking in the bath (back in the days before we had a washing machine). He starting sinking half way across and jumped out, only wet as far as his legs, but we rectified that when we washing the washing powder off. We always thought he was a bit 'dim'.
Another fell in when there was only an inch of water in the bath, but got into such a panic that she had comprehensively saturated every hair on her body, and then ran all over the house several times (still in a panic) before we could catch and dry her. That was Laurel.
We were told to give one of the cats (Laurel again) a bath by a vet, to rid it of a mite infection. When he saw the look on our faces he took back the shampoo and handed over some powder instead.
April 1st - Shrodingers Cat
is alive and well, and living at our house.
Leo has developed an uncanny knack of being both in front of me and behind me at the same time, so that wherever I try and walk she is always underfoot.
It is also true to say that, depending on the light conditions, she also appears either alive or dead. As in scampering around for a brief 10 second burst of energy, or sound asleep, curled in a basket in the sun. Although then snoring can be a bit of a reassurance.
Leo has developed an uncanny knack of being both in front of me and behind me at the same time, so that wherever I try and walk she is always underfoot.
 |
| Life-size cat figure in the garden of Huttenstrasse 9, Zurich, where Erwin Schrödinger lived 1921–1926. Depending on the light conditions, the cat appears either alive or dead. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Schr%C3%B6dinger%27s_cat |
The cats arrived as tiny kittens in Spring 2003, on the same day that our Canadian friends came to stay. After sixteen years we have learned to adapt to their idiosyncrasies.
Sunday, 31 March 2019
31st March - Mothering Sunday
The children came up trumps;
In order of unpacking/unwrapping
flowers and a card, delivered while we were out and left basking in the sunshine on the front door step. But a neighbour spotted them, took them home and brought them back later. Thank you!
A wonderful card of Chichester cathedral, constructed so that it folds flat when you close the card, and a whole handful of finger puppets - just the right size to keep me company when I am out and about. (I expect you thought I might use them with piano pupils, but they are mine, not for sharing!) I did take them to church...
The church service today was mostly very un-serious (and I'm afraid I wasn't feeling serious in most of the serious bits). I spent most of the time in between 'writing on a post-it' and 'lighting a candle for your mother' chatting with the young care assistant who now comes with a member of the congregation who needs a lot of support. For years we (in the church) have taken turns in bringing her to church, looking after her, and taking her back, and it was my turn today, but now that she is older she needs 'more care'. This was the third time her assistant came too; every time has been different and I don't think she has been used to going to church anyway. I suspect 'church' at St John's is not what she was expected...
All us ladies were given flowers, including the care assistant, rather to her surprise. Here are mine;
I used to take home a bunch for my mother... today, while searching through my phone for pictures to show to 'my lady', I kept being ambushed by pictures of Mummy in hospital after the stroke, Mummy in various stages of recovery, Christmases over the years, and then, the flowers from her funeral, just over three years ago.
There are a whole raft of 'legacy journals' out there now, 'nearly-blank' books with prompts and questions and suggestions
which you fill in for your children, or with your children, to write down all those stories about where you lived, where you went to school, anecdotes, funny stories, etc. I'm rather wishing I had done that with Mummy. I could just write down as much as I remember of the stories she used to tell... I wonder what my father would think if I bought one for him?
**** **** ****
The sun is out, but the wind is cold. I shall make some 'new you' tea and enjoy the flowers, cards and finger puppets. Thank you, everyone, for my presents.
In order of unpacking/unwrapping
flowers and a card, delivered while we were out and left basking in the sunshine on the front door step. But a neighbour spotted them, took them home and brought them back later. Thank you!
A wonderful card of Chichester cathedral, constructed so that it folds flat when you close the card, and a whole handful of finger puppets - just the right size to keep me company when I am out and about. (I expect you thought I might use them with piano pupils, but they are mine, not for sharing!) I did take them to church...
The church service today was mostly very un-serious (and I'm afraid I wasn't feeling serious in most of the serious bits). I spent most of the time in between 'writing on a post-it' and 'lighting a candle for your mother' chatting with the young care assistant who now comes with a member of the congregation who needs a lot of support. For years we (in the church) have taken turns in bringing her to church, looking after her, and taking her back, and it was my turn today, but now that she is older she needs 'more care'. This was the third time her assistant came too; every time has been different and I don't think she has been used to going to church anyway. I suspect 'church' at St John's is not what she was expected...
All us ladies were given flowers, including the care assistant, rather to her surprise. Here are mine;
I used to take home a bunch for my mother... today, while searching through my phone for pictures to show to 'my lady', I kept being ambushed by pictures of Mummy in hospital after the stroke, Mummy in various stages of recovery, Christmases over the years, and then, the flowers from her funeral, just over three years ago.
There are a whole raft of 'legacy journals' out there now, 'nearly-blank' books with prompts and questions and suggestions
which you fill in for your children, or with your children, to write down all those stories about where you lived, where you went to school, anecdotes, funny stories, etc. I'm rather wishing I had done that with Mummy. I could just write down as much as I remember of the stories she used to tell... I wonder what my father would think if I bought one for him?
**** **** ****
The sun is out, but the wind is cold. I shall make some 'new you' tea and enjoy the flowers, cards and finger puppets. Thank you, everyone, for my presents.
Friday, 29 March 2019
Friday 29th March - Three in a row?
It might have been cheaper to pay the parking fee...
Yesterday's burst of energy, which included hoovering or sweeping the whole house as the dust everywhere was getting on my nerves, resulted in me waking up feeling still asleep and never really managing to reach 'awake' at any stage.
I zombied around the supermarket, and came home with a cucumber, a lettuce, a bag of rice for making rice puddings (we have too much milk), a packet of cheap little self-inking stampers to be the next set of rewards for piano pupils, (do you really want to know all this?) a tub of boullion powder because I thought shopper-in-chief may have forgotten to buy some (he hadn't), a bag of dried apricots because I like them in my lunch boxes, and, ever the eternal optimist, a packet of tea.
Not just any tea;
I had some when I got home, but it is a bit too soon to see if they work. Or maybe you have to finish the whole packet?
Thursday, 28 March 2019
Thursday 28th March - Two posts in a row
Since the last post, James-the-gardener has been and removed 'about 2 tonnes' of weeds and earth from the border, and replaced it with 'about a tonne' of topsoil and compost.
The bits of plastic that are on the earth are to annoy the foxes, who came and played on the surface, leaving footprints all along the border, and scattering the soil all over the edge of the grass.
The chairs and table are moved forward because he was very keen to show us how good a raised bed would be against the fence there, to deal with a strip of weeds and grubbly stuff. He has managed to convince us - I won't be giving up teaching any time soon...
I've been knitting and knitting and knitting; the hat, knitted on what felt like porcupines rather than double ended needles is finished, and I've been glad of it on a few mornings. The scarf is too,
and does a very good job of excluding the draughts that chill the back of my neck. I've got two new projects on the go, to help me stay away from endlessly playing freecell. This going to be a square blanket
What you and see is just one corner. The plan is to keep knitting and knitting, but you increase by one stitch in the middle of the row each time, so that the knitting forms itself into a 'mitred square', and you just keep going until you run out of wool. I've used about half a ball of the murky blue so far, with a couple of stripes of leftover grey, and now started on the reddish pink ball. I bought the blue and reddish pink wool on a holiday in Tewkesbury way back in - ah yes February 2014 - as a kind of souvenir.
I keep this picture of a dragon over the piano as a reminder of those days; I'm inordinately pleased with how it came out.
This tangle of wool and needles is a large-scale project; the plan is that it will become a cardigan, knitted entirely in one piece, only needing the side seams and sleeve seams sewing together. It will stop being a 'portable project' very quickly.
Here's a picture from then pattern sheet; I've finished the left-hand sleeve and that long thin straggle is the beginning of the front-over-the-shoulder-down-the-back. At the moment it takes me nearly ten minutes to knit a row... slow going.
The bits of plastic that are on the earth are to annoy the foxes, who came and played on the surface, leaving footprints all along the border, and scattering the soil all over the edge of the grass.
The chairs and table are moved forward because he was very keen to show us how good a raised bed would be against the fence there, to deal with a strip of weeds and grubbly stuff. He has managed to convince us - I won't be giving up teaching any time soon...
I've been knitting and knitting and knitting; the hat, knitted on what felt like porcupines rather than double ended needles is finished, and I've been glad of it on a few mornings. The scarf is too,
and does a very good job of excluding the draughts that chill the back of my neck. I've got two new projects on the go, to help me stay away from endlessly playing freecell. This going to be a square blanket
I keep this picture of a dragon over the piano as a reminder of those days; I'm inordinately pleased with how it came out.
This tangle of wool and needles is a large-scale project; the plan is that it will become a cardigan, knitted entirely in one piece, only needing the side seams and sleeve seams sewing together. It will stop being a 'portable project' very quickly.
Here's a picture from then pattern sheet; I've finished the left-hand sleeve and that long thin straggle is the beginning of the front-over-the-shoulder-down-the-back. At the moment it takes me nearly ten minutes to knit a row... slow going.
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