et M Miffy est encore en France, velo-ing away somewhere in the sunny south; last time I heard from him he’d just about got over the shock of leaving his mascot teddybear up a mountain!
Back home, while the cat’s away…I’ve had an unwonted and uncharacteristic burst of energy spring cleaning round house and garden. Peace, perfect peace – too much so in fact, as I discovered on Bank Holiday Monday when Ms Miff phoned me from New York to ascertain if I was still alive. (I’d a visitor a few days previously, set the phone answering service to cut in straight away so we’d not be disturbed, but had forgotten to set it back afterwards). I’d thought it was odd that I’d not heard from anybody for a while!
So, there we are. The house – well – parts of it anyway are looking as minimalist as it’s ever going to be, as is this blog. I could get to like the loo
Hello again. Long long time no blog; I’d not realised it’s been nearly seven months since I was last here. My blogging mojo seems to have gone, as readers of my other blog have doubtless noticed, and I’m certainly not back with any profound thoughts to impart. Trivia rules – Mr M was on a trip to France this weekend, spotted this gorgeous display of shopping trolleys in Mr Bricolage, (yes, sad I know), and just couldn’t resist taking a pic for me. You remember my fashion dilemma Yes, of course you do! Or not…What a sight. I’m salivating – almost.
Though the object of the weekend was a rather more serious one: to visit the Somme battlefields. I’m sure I’ll hear more about that once the beloved recovers. He’s exhausted.
All ready for
All ready for pilgrimage!
Coast Path, Devon. I thought I’d got this one the right way up just now; never mind – it was some walk!
Arrival at Exeter Cathedral.
Since then, we’ve had the drama of the dog and the nectarine stone, I’ve spent a fortune at the dentist (only I could manage to break a tooth on a Greenbelt bacon butty), the gippy festival tum is under control,the eye infection is getting that way. You’d not guess from all that griping that I actually had a Good Time, would you, but – don’t faint – I did!
And now? Several new challenges for the autumn – all very exciting in my usual quiet, Miffyesque kind of way. Keep Calm And Carry On.
Ehrm. I’ve been away too long. It doesn’t seem to want to publish links. OK – see my Growing Greenpatches blog for my Greenbelt musings.
A wee bit of cross-posting from my other blog where I’ve been pondering my total failure to remain serene in the midst of chaos. “If you can keep your head when all around you…” One of my thoughts as I lay awake spectacularly unable to find that ‘place within myself,’ (to quote from a workshop I was at last week) was “B—– —! How ever am I going to cope during Greenbelt?” Where on earth am I going to find my ‘quiet space?’ I do love the rush and bustle of the festival and it is only for four days, but at the same time find it draining. And I’m stewarding for the first time this year, albeit in one of the quieter (well, I hope it’s quieter) venues. St Clare, Francis, Ignatius and any others you can think of – come to my aid! (Yes, I have moved higher up the candle since I left oldchurch, haven’t I ?)
I’ve had an epiphany. Whenever I begin to doubt my ability to express myself in an anyway coherent and fitting manner, all I need do for reassurance is to check out my spam box; there are screeds of purple prose there that make my confused witterings seem positively Dostoevsky-like in comparison.
Hrmph! Here’s another absentee wiblogger emerging from the shadows, after a long-time dalliance over on blogger. The innards of Musings are working, I’m glad to say; reading Chelly’s warning about the prevalence of pork luncheon meat prompted me to stir myself and log on again. I appear to be spam free, thank goodness, even if my stats have that lonely, moth-eaten look to them. I do still read some of you regularly though via the listing on my other blog and I loved meeting up with some of you earlier in the year at Smudgie’s licencing.
So, what’s been going on down our way since my last post here? Well, the late, great Miffcat Mk3 has been replaced by moggie Mk4, aka Tigercat – a rather skew-whiff, feisty chap, with a passion for hunting games and an apparent allergy to vets. This last probably resulting from his experiences after a horrible road traffic accident back in his misspent youth. Jekyll and Hyde just isn’t in it, as Mr M and I, one vet and a vetinary nurse can certify. At the sight of a needle he transforms from ‘Simon’s Cat’ into a spitting, scratching, growling devil. Ouch. But we love him all the same. He’s certainly leaving his mark – usually in the form of a little ‘present,’ in front of his litter box for me to discover at crack of dawn.
The offspring are pottering along nicely. Ms M is well established in graphic design now; Mstr M currently working on his masters disertation:Umpteen thousand words on Gormenghast in the style of an autopsy report, anyone?
And Mr M? Well, he’s gradually getting back into cycling after a year or so’s break. Myself? Well, still ‘Seabirding,’ (are you still around, Rosamundi?); being on the area team for this has been a fair old learning curve for me. As has the process of getting involved in giving spiritual direction, following on from training some years back. Does anyone remember those cryptic entries about my trips down to the land of seabirds and brisk sea breezes?
Most of my online musing goes on now over at Growing Greenpatches but I’ll try and get back over here more often, I promise.
The significance of Ash Wednesday is all too close for comfort, I’m afraid. We’ve been up all night,with the odd snatch of sleep here and there, watching over poor old Miffcat – Chops, who’s on her last legs. She’s drifting in and out of sleep; let’s hope it stays that way as much as possible.I’m astonished that she’s lasted the night. Ah well.
A recycled, recycled ‘Musing,’ for Shrove Tuesday!
” ‘Whizz pop whizz pop pop pop poppety pop pop,’ faster and ever so much faster flew the pancakes. Thicker and thicker. Bigger and bigger. They came out flatways and edgeways. They shot high in the air and stuck to the ceiling. One sailed across the room and hit the Vicar in the waistcoat, where it may or may not have reminded him of the ironholders for the South Crashbania natives. Pop poppety, pop pop pop. It was like a machine gun but much more sploshy. The Professor struggled out of his pancake just in time for another one to drop over him. Two pancakes were on the clock, four were draped over the light. The Mayor was eating his way through a complete set of pancakes of varying sizes that had fallen in front of him. The four firemen put their helmets on and brandished their axes, but only succeeded in smashing two cups, one saucer and the sugar basin. Mrs Flittersnoop put her head gingerly out from under the table and was immediately gummed to the carpet by a three-foot pancake two inches thick that had just shot out.”
From The Incredible Adventures of Professor Branestawm by Norman Hunter
Has anybody else here seen Dave Walker’s cartoon teapots? Aren’t they great!
My, how time flies! Here we are again with a snippet from my current reading matter. Rules as always:
• Grab your current read
• Open to a random page
• Share two (2) “teaser” sentences from somewhere on that page
• BE CAREFUL NOT TO INCLUDE SPOILERS! (make sure that what you share doesn’t give too much away! You don’t want to ruin the book for everybody else!)
• Share the title & author, too, so that other TT participants can add the book to their Lists if they like your teasers!
And here we are:
Line a funnel with cheesecloth (several layers), muslin, or the foot from an old pair of nylons. Place the spout of the funnel in a squirt or pump bottle and decant your new shampoo.
– From ‘Make Your Place: affordable, sustainable nesting skills,’ by Raleigh Briggs
Not exactly War and Peace this week – though Mr M has confirmed my conclusions that in a good light my sprinkling of grey can pass as golden blonde highlights.
Then again – it is Valentine’s Day…