Oh, My Days!

 This is one of the many views I get to see whenever I am at work… This was taken on Monday afternoon, descending from the site of an old motte and bailey fort during our afternoon walk. I think the cows must have known torrential rain was on the way as they were all settling down on their chosen patch of grass to keep it dry. Sensible creatures. We often meet cows on our walks. Some of our team are a little anxious about walking amongst the cows. ‘I’ll walk next to you, Denise,’ they’ll say, placing me firmly ‘twixt them and the herd. Quite how they think I’m going to be able to save them from a cow, especially one on a mission, I do not know. Luckily, the cows are placidly curious creatures and we know to give them a wide berth when they have their calves with them. Still, if I should ever disappear from the ether…well, you’ll know it’s likely that I met my end heroically saving someone from being bovine- crushed… Two days later and the weather is shot to pieces. Rain, rain, more rai

There was a brief moment of panic when, on arriving at the car showroom this morning to collect my new car, a person trying to negotiate the car park almost reversed into my little blue car as I was nipping into a parking space. I managed to swerve out of the way - goodness knows what scenario would have unfolded if my part exchange vehicle had sustained damage within minutes of it being handed over. But nothing did happen, and within 20 minutes I had taken safe delivery of my new car.  Here it is… It’s parked on the driveway next to the bird feeding station. I’ve asked the birds, politely and gently, if they would mind not pooping on it for a couple of days at least, so I can enjoy the shiny newness of it. They said okay, they would see what they could do, as I’m so kind with the provision of sunflower seeds, peanuts and fat balls.  I’m glad I didn’t buy the dealership’s sales package of a set of car mats. I am doubly glad I didn’t buy a cheaper set of car mats ahead of today because

 Well, that was less traumatic than I thought it would be. With Andy navigating, because we were in my little blue car for purposes of possible part exchange, we headed off to a car dealership in Stoke. I’ve not driven in Stoke very much, mostly because it freaks me out. It’s like a small Birmingham - unfathomable roundabouts, two lanes suddenly becoming five lanes, cars coming at you from all directions, that sort of malarkey. Sometimes the freak out factor is increased by Andy saying things like, ‘Stay in this lane…oh, is it this lane? No…it’s that lane…oh…no it isn’t, it’s this lane, back where you were…’ which elicits comments from me like, ‘This is why I don’t like driving in strange places,’ and possibly a bit of swearing, but anyway, we arrived safely at the dealership. Phew!  I spied the car I was after and stood in front of it in admiration and with an air of  ‘a salesperson may approach me now, I am ready to purchase a car’ about me. A salesman did just that. Could he help me

  After three years of trying, His Lordship Malarkey has finally persuaded me that it is time to change my 10 and a half year old car for something a little more, well, modern. It says something that for the previous two Winters I’ve had to scrape ice from the INSIDE of the windscreen as well as the outside. Sometimes the driver door freezes stuck, too. I’m getting too old for that faff. My fingers turn white when I hold stainless steel cutlery in the cold months, let alone having to deal with double doses of frost. This week, then, I’ve been cracking on with the research and the preparation in order to go car shopping today! I’ve already had a bit of a win in that I managed to get my eye drops in my eyes first go, and without splattering them around the sink/ up my nose/ in my ears which is the usual pattern of all things eye drop. The signs bode well! I’ve located two cars that I think will do me very nicely indeed. I’ve compared them with similar models from other brands…or is it sp

 I’m watching ‘The Royal Chelsea Flower Show’ preview on TV, and one of the features is about how plants make a huge difference to the learning that goes on in schools. Better air quality, engagement with learning, connecting with Nature, mental health well-being…you get the gist. Of course, those of us who garden, and include the nurturing of house plants in that activity, will already know the therapeutic value of plants. It’s good to know schools are beginning to realise this, too. At the last school I taught at - a school for children with emotional, social and behavioural problems - I created a feature of plants in the centre of my classroom. The desks were arranged around the central display so that everyone could see the plants all the time. The children enjoyed having the plants there and their behaviours and attitudes improved. They liked caring for the plants, they didn’t want to trash the room because they didn’t want to ‘hurt the plants’ and, on occasion, I would send a bab

 Pondering the new day this morning, I wasn’t sure what it was going to bring. Nothing sprang immediately to mind. No clarion call to the garden, jam making, polishing the unicorn’s hooves or other some such nonsense. So I ate breakfast (Skyr with raspberries, pumpkin and sunflower seeds and a dusting of cinnamon for regulating blood sugar levels) whilst watching the hooligan baby sparrows fight for supremacy of the wisteria which is STILL growing and needs a jolly good pruning. Given the sheer bushiness achieved by the wisteria this year I have been relieved to discover that one can wait until the leaves have dropped in order to actually be able to see the bits that need cutting back rather than enter the jungle with a machete for a bit of aimless hacking. Phew! And the way the hooligan sparrow babies are behaving, the leaves are dropping a tad faster than they might ordinarily have dropped.  Talking of crazy plant growth, I purchased this from Aldi four days ago… …a cheese plant! I’v

 Today I was directed to use my initiative, which I did, only to be told that my initiative was wrong. I felt slightly irked by this rebuffing of my initiative. I thought it rather defeated the object of initiatives because if you want someone to use their initiative then trust them and let them get on with it. Otherwise, just direct the person in their actions, then you’ll get what you want, no feathers ruffled. It’s a sign of dodgy people skills, if you ask me, and I’ve had plenty of experience of THOSE! So, Lesson Number 1: Keep your initiatives to yourself and/or spend them on someone/ something who will appreciate them. (Lesson Number 1.1: acknowledge you are probably an unmanageable person a.k.a independent spirit, and therefore free to sail your own ship, plough your own furrow, ice your own cake. Hurrah!) My irked reaction wasn’t helped by my waking up with a sense of dread and impeding doom following a particularly hideous and graphically violent dream. Rarely are my dreams li

 I’m reading this at the moment… It’s all about the neuroplastic nature of the brain, and its ability to learn, re-learn, overcome adversity and generally be more of a marvellous organ than we ever believed it could be. Even greater than The Mighty Wurlitzer. I know! Amazing, right? The writing in the book is tiny, there are many pages, many footnotes, a comprehensive reference section, and lots of words containing three syllables or more. It’s requiring considerable reading concentration on my part but it is fascinating and thought-provoking. The underlying message so far seems to be that the best things you can do for your brain are a) keep moving b) keep learning and c) avoid neurotoxins like cigarettes and alcohol.  This morning I moved to the tune of making two loaves of bread and giving my car a jolly good inside/ outside clean. Last week at work, I made the mistake of parking beneath some power lines. At some point during the day, a flock of swallows chose those very power lines

  The urge to organise has been strong within me these last few days. Thusly, I’ve been sorting, sifting, moving stuff around, rationalising space and being amazed at how much more space I have than I thought I had, once things are arranged in a proper fashion and not merely bunged/ stuffed/ squished into a space. Air, it seems, takes up a lot of space. Eliminate air and your space increases. Don’t eliminate air from your lungs though. Not permanently, anyway. It’ll make you puff a bit. Probably faint, too.  The reason for this activity is that I have been moving my bits and bobs out of my end of the garden studio and  into the front bedroom, the room formerly known as The Zen Den and now known as the reading/ writing/ meditation/ sewing/ crafting and general arty-farty room. (I shall work on a new, more succinct name. If there was a fish bowl involved, I might call it ‘My Plaice’ but there isn’t, so I shan’t. It can’t be the Zen Den anymore because it is now home to WAY more activity