JustJottings

Silver Seduction In The Shelter Of Love . . .

Hey, I know I've been away for a while but I'm back now with something truly heartwarming to share with you. 

Early yesterday morning I was taking daughter to school (she STILL hasn't put in for her test, even though instructor says she's peaked and now developing the bad habits of the newly passed!) when we stopped at a T- junction.  On the opposite side of the road was a grass verge and hedge and, set slightly stage right, was a dirty glass bus shelter.  Nothing new there then, you may have decided.  What happened next will take your breath away, as it did daughter and I .  .  .

Paul And The Puddings!

 Tomorrow, I'll be firmly under this man's gaze from 9am - 6pm and am feeling a little buzz of excitement about it.  Have been in dialogue with Paul's man-on-the-ground, Matthew, and picked up all sorts of background info.  (I know I said 'man' but, in reality, Matthew sounded about 12!)  I've also spoken to Vicky in the entourage, who seems to be in a permanent start of delirious happiness . . . is this the 'Paul effect', or is it a case that half the dose would do?  Sorry, that sounded SO uncharitable, I expect she's just a 'glass three-quarters full' kind of girl.  In a nothing ventured, nothing gained moment, I've done something with which daughter is seriously unimpressed . . .

Mathematical Mayhem at Number 9!

A disaster has struck the daughter.  Pencil case has been 'misplaced', I prefer to call it stolen, nicked, pilfered, lifted - need I go on?  (I suppose I have done already, sorry!)

Not a calamity of the first order you may well be secretly thinking, unless, of course, your have your AS level maths exam tomorrow and no equipment.  At my very best in 'emergencies' I felt something 'kick start' inside.   Recognise it as my 'I won't be beaten' mode and begin an inventory of missing goods . . . 

It's Outrageous - A Girl Should Be Given Notice . . .

I SO Wasn't Looking My Best When It Happened . . .

It was a funny day today, usual routine upended.  Daughter on study leave so no school run.  OK, I was at my PC in my PJs but just intended to check my emails and then go for a shower.  You know how it is, one thing leads to another and didn't hit the bathroom until 10.30am.  (Please don't 'tut', I know, I know!)  Instead of the usual 7am shower, hair wash, dressed, quick blast with the hairdrier and away, came down dressed - thank the Lord - but with dripping wet hair.  Reinstalled at computer and just about to write something deeply meaningful, when Alf sprang up on 'red alert'.  Caused me a palpitation or two as I also leapt to my feet, shocked out of my reverie, to see whether the world had really ended or whether it was another of Alf's false alarms!

Immortalised!

Sorry, the Dobbin thing is dragging on a bit, isn't it.  Will try to be succinct. 

Day Two at The High Chaparral again began with vacuum extraction of daughter from pit.  Husband took her on his cross country route then went to work.  Jubilant call to tell me how much quicker it was.  Enters into long string of directions.  Mentally shut down as know I'm in a motorway mood today.  But this is what you've been waiting for . . . the arrival of Immortalised in his air conditioned horse Hilton.  No clattering old box trailing straw for this lad, oh no, just the very best.  This picture is not the stallion himself but he looks very much like this Johnnie Depp of the horse world.  But his behaviour, oh my . . .

One Face Fits All!

The words "I know you" have followed me through life.  The first instance of mistaken recognition took place at Heathrow Airport when I was travelling alone to Dusseldorf in Germany.  I tell you I was travelling alone because I was just eight years old!  Let me explain.  I was at school in the UK and my parents were stationed in Germany.  Ladies from SSAFA (the Soldiers, Sailors and Air Force Association) used to meet military orphans off the train and take them as far as the boarding gate at the airport.  (Grandad used to do it but he'd been promoted to the 'higher life'.)  This was just such an occasion.

Marigolds and Mesh!

I'm back . . . but did you notice I'd gone, dear reader?  (I won't flatter myself by going plural here!)  Yes, I was going to Alaska for two weeks last August but I've been away six months!  Well, not away, actually, but seriously indisposed.  However, all is now well!

  "Okayyyyy, so where have you been, Janet?",  I hear you chorus in the recesses of my imagination.  Well Alaska was wonderful but more about that later.  Truth is, I had another encounter with Miss Rodd's 'Marigolds'!

Darling Darren and the Fractured Pipe

I was rushing around this morning trying to achieve as much as possible by lunchtime when the unexpected happened.  Having been a Brownie in another century, I decided I could cope, no, would cope!  You see, the brakes failed on my trusty steed.  Not her fault, apparently.  Thankfully, had just delivered daughter to animal sanctuary for the day and was on the way home.  Lots of roundabouts to negotiate.  Sinking feeling as foot hit the floor and almost nothing happened.  Luckily didn't hit anything else.  Limped to Darling Darren.  Imagine my relief when I saw he was there, under a car which was up on the ramp.  I saw he looked both impressed and distressed when he clocked my hands were covered in oil and other black stuff . . . 

The Healing Power of Mother Earth

Truth is, I've been feeling a bit jaded of late, nothing specific but not quite on form - I'm sure you know what I mean.  Well, today I had a 'eureka moment'!  As with all great discoveries (although I wouldn't put this in the same class as penicillin or the splitting of the atom), it happened by accident. 

We're going away next week (more about that in another post because it's a BIGGIE, the realisation of a lifetime's dream), and the grass was responding to the sun and showers.  If left unattended until our return, only a scythe would do the job . . .

The Earth Is So Unyielding . . .

I took up the invitation (which actually felt more like a 'thrown down gauntlet' challenge) to me and spent the night under canvas.  Please notice, I didn't use the word 'slept'!  Thought it might be nice to experience something new on a muggy, breezy evening.  Huh!  Now, I don't 'do' camping, nearest I ever came was a night in a sodden field in a trailer tent one October . . . bit of a light bulb moment going on here, I bet that's why I've never repeated the experience.  Why have I never made the connection before?  Was told the next day the condensation dripping on me was because poor light had stopped the erection of the inner lining which, in turn, would have stopped the condensation!  But surely that makes the inner skin ESSENTIAL??  Been watching too much cricket, poor light, whatever next . . .