New knits

Well, I'm still knitting!

This lacy slanted scarf was finished the other week. It's knitted in Alpaca 'Drops' wool . I think it's an America yarn. Anyway I bought it in Vancouver. The pattern was easy but took a while for my brain to remember the sequence so I didn't have to refere to the pattern every row. I just need to 'block' it now and as I've never 'blocked' a garment before I keep putting it off.

This is a close up of the lace pattern. As the scarf grows the slant becomes more evident. Quite clever really. The wool colour is actually far more green than the photo shows.I have another ball of Alpaca that I started to knit a pair of lacy fingerless mitterns with. I'm afraid after pulling it down several times when I went wrong with the pattern I had to put it away for a while and started these maroon red cabled mittens. This is Debbie Bliss wool bought in John Lewis sale. It's quite an easy pattern once I'd mastered the four needles. I hadn't knitted with four before! I must admitte it was quite annoying when one kept dissapearing or else the cable needle kept hiding!

They look cosy don't they. They are suppose to be for Rebecca. She saw the lacy pattern but not this one so I'm not sure if she'll approve. These teenagers have quite strongly developed fashion tastes and us old 'fogys don't always get it right!

PS the site spell checker's not working at the moment so sorry for any misspellings!

The big garden Bird Watch

The Royal Society for the Protection of Birds is a charity that looks after and protects the interests of our wild bird population. Each years in January they hold a national garden or park, bird survey to assess how the population of our indigenous garden birds are coping. I've just posted the result from my garden bird watch on the RSPB web site.

I sat in the conservatory with a cup of coffee yesterday morning between 9 and 10 am and counted the highest numbers of each species of bird I saw. Really hard work! I've been doing this survey now for about five years. This was an average year. Much better than last year though when the weather on the watch weekend was so awful and during the whole hour I chose to watch I saw not one single bird. Not one in the whole hour! Not even flying over.

We have always fed the garden birds where ever we've lived. Last year we bought ourselves and fancy bird feeding station but we still use the trees to hang nut and seed feeders, half coconuts, bones, bacon rinds. We've always had a good variety of different birds feeding. As you can see the cheeky squirrels try their hardest to pinch the bird food. Mice love the bits dropped on the ground and the cat bless her loved the mice and the birds. Sadly she died from old age just before Christmas so the birds are less threatened this year. I wish the mice population weren't though. Yesterday just before I started the count there was a Willow Tit feeding. He's quite a rare visitor and this morning there was a colourful Bull Finch picking at the seeds. He hasn't been around for a while. The little colony of Long Tail Tits have been shy recently too. Plenty of natural food in the nearby Country Park I suppose.

On Friday morning driving home from swimming I spotted a green parakeet feeding on the road verge. A most unusual site for around here. I haven't seen one of those this far north before although Dave said he had. There's quite a colony built up in London and in the South of England. They are escapee aviary birds. I also saw the Spotted Woodpecker. He not a bird I see often although there's a few in the Park. If you walk around the lakes and woodland in the park you can spot a large variety of different birds.

These last couple of weeks have been very unseasonable mild. The birds in the morning are singing as if it's already spring. On my nightly wander to the bathroom I can hear the Robin trilling away on the branches of the trees at the back of our garden. This is at between 3 and 4 am but he's often here singing all night.

As I write this post I can see the sun setting out from my office window. The birds have been for their evening feed and bathed in our little stream leading to the pond. A black bird is squawking it's alarm call from some where along the lane and the last few starlings are flying home to their roosts.

More Birthdays

Three more Birthdays

Yesterday was the birthday of two important people.

One was the singer Neil Diamond who was 67 this year and still touring.

We've been following and listening to Neil Diamond now for over 40 years. He still sounds great.

The other birthday and the more important one was my oldest and dearest friend Nancy .

We've been friends now sine the first night we started work together at the Maternity Unit in 1973 and we're still friends even though she now lives on the other side of the world in Vancouver.

The third birthday is on Sunday the 27th and is the birthday of my eldest grand daughter. She will reach the ripe old age of 18. No picture of her I'm afraid as she's very camera shy! But she wasn't when this was taken!Cute wasn't she! I'm very proud of her. She's at collage doing a Foundation course at present and is heading for the first of our family to go to University. She's hoping to make a career in the fashion industry.

Burns Night

Coming Through The Rye by Robert Burns

Coming thro' the rye, poor body,

Coming thro' the rye,

She draiglet a' her petticoatie

Coming thro' the rye.

O, Jenny's a' wat, poor body;

Jenny's seldom dry;

She draiglet a' her petticoatie

Coming thro' the rye.

Gin a body meet a body

Coming thro' the rye,

Gin a body kiss a body—

Need a body cry?

Gin a body meet a body

Coming thro' the glen,

Gin a body kiss a body—

Need the warld ken?

January 25th 1759 is always presumned to be the birthdate of Scotlands most famous and prolific poet Robert Burns. He was born in the village of Alloway, Ayrshire in Scotland to a poor Tennant Farmer and eventually became Scotland most prolific poet with 579 poems and songs accredited to him. Apart from the song above and 'My Love is Like a Red Red Rose' the song the most people around the world know and sing every New Years Eve is 'Auld lang Syne'. Written in 1788. His love of hard drink, politics and the ladies, not necessarily in that order shortened this life to a mere 37 years. Incredible to think one person could write so much in such a short time. No wonder he became Scotlands national treasure.

Auld Lang Syne by Robert Burns

Should auld acquaintance be forgot,

And never brought to mind?

Should auld acquaintance be forgot

,And auld lang syne?

For auld lang syne, my dear,

For auld lang syne,

We'll tak a cup o' kindness yet,

For auld lang syne.

And surely ye'll be your pint-stowp,

And surely I'll be mine!

And we'll tak a cup o' kindness yet,

For auld lang syne.

For auld lang syne, my dear,

For auld lang syne,

We'll tak a cup o' kindness yet,

For auld lang syne.

We twa hae run about the braes,

And pu'd the gowans fine;

But we've wandered mony a weary fit

Sin' auld lang syne.

For auld lang syne,my dear,

For auld lang syne,

We'll tak a cup o' kindness yet,

For auld lang syne.

We twa hae paidled i' the burn,

Frae morning sun till dine;

But seas between us braid hae roared

Sin' auld lang syne.

For auld lang syne, my dear,

For auld lang syne,

We'll tak a cup o' kindness yet,

For auld lang syne.

And there's a hand, my trusty fiere,

And gie's a hand o' thine!

And we'll tak a right guid-willie waught

For auld lang syne.

For auld lang syne, my dear,

For auld lang syne,

We'll tak a cup o' kindness yet,

For auld lang syne.

A traditional 'Burns Night' supper would be a full blown formal meal with guests in Kilts and evening dress. They would be lead to the meal by a 'Piper' A typical meal would be Cocka Leekie soup followed by Haggis, 'Bashit Neeps' and 'Champit Tatties' . The sweet course would be Cloutie Dumplin' or 'Typsy Laird' followed by a cheese board and bannocks.

The haggis would be carried to the table on a silver platter by the chef to the muspc of the piped followed by the person who will'Address the Haggis' and the Whiskey Bearer to ensure the toasts are well lubricated! Burns Night celebrations are not just comfined to Scotland but celebrated all over the world.

Toft and Helpston

Today is Mothers 88th birthday. What do you give an octogenarian. We all had the same dilemma. I finally decided on a beautiful apricot azalea pot plant and one of my paintings. Its a water colour of the Corbier Lighthouse in Jersey. I did the painting from a photograph I took when I took Mother to Jersey for a holiday so the painting had some significant. Especially as my father died on the Island in 1980.

My sister and I decided to take Mother out to lunch and we decided on the Toft House Hotel at Toft. We couldn't manage today so it had to be yesterday. Toft is a small village west of Bourne on the edge of the Wolds. (The name Toft comes from the Old Scandinavian or Viking language and means Homestead.) The hotel itself is a converted 300 year old farm house and the lounge has an impressive inglenook fireplace. Its a Golf hotel and boasts a large golf course across the road from the hotel.

There were several parties already booked into the restaurant for lunch so we had to be content with a meal in the bar. The food was simple but well cooked and plenty of it.

On the way home later that afternoon I had to take a detour because a lorry had crashed into one of the ancient bridges once more and I went through the little village of Helpston. (Old English. Farmstead of a man named Help) Normally I skirt around its edge. In the center of the village is this small thatched cottage where the Poet John Clare was born.

John Clare was known as the Northamptonshire Peasant Poet. Born to farm labourers in July 1793 he would have been a contemporary and certainly known to Dave's Great x4 grandparents, William and Rebecca Bloodworth, who were also born and lived in the village.
John Clare is now considered to be one of the most important of the 19th century poets.

Winter Walk

The holly bush, a sober lump of green,

Shines through the leafless shrubs all brown and gray,

And smiles at winter be it eer so keen

With all the leafy luxury of May.

And O it is delicious, when the day

In winter's loaded garment keenly blows

And turns her back on sudden falling snows,

To go where gravel pathways creep between

Arches of evergreen that scarce let through

A single feather of the driving storm;

And in the bitterest day that ever blew

The walk will find some places still and warm

Where dead leaves rustle sweet and give alarm

To little birds that flirt and start away.

I am
I am: yet what I am none cares or knows,
My friends forsake me like a memory lost;
I am the self-consumer of my woes,
They rise and vanish in oblivious host,
Like shades in love and death's oblivion lost;
And yet I am! and live with shadows tost
Into the nothingness of scorn and noise,
Into the living sea of waking dreams,
Where there is neither sense of life nor joys,
But the vast shipwreck of my life's esteems;
And e'en the dearest--that I loved the best--
Are strange--nay, rather stranger than the rest.
I long for scenes where man has never trod;
A place where woman never smil'd or wept;
There to abide with my creator, God,
And sleep as I in childhood sweetly slept:
Untroubling and untroubled where I lie;
The grass below--above the vaulted sky.

Still in the Cake Business, but only just.

Last Tuesday saw me in the kitchen baking a 21st birthday cake. It's the first commission I have had for months. I'm still not sure why I agreed to do it but I did, so, painful knee or not I had to get on with it. I haven't been actively seeking commissions now for some time and have slowly been disposing of my sugar craft equipment via Ebay.

The only cakes I did last year were a Ruby Wedding Cake in March for my friends Jill and Gordon who live in Spain. They came back and had their celebrations locally at the Dog and Doublet.

This pink Christening cake for my Nieces baby daughter, Lily, in June. It was my Almond sponge cake. So many people nowadays don't care for the traditional fruit cake. I find sponges are so last minutes and I have a dread of being ill and not being able to cope with them.

Finally there was John and Nancy's Wedding cakes last October in Canada. These were the first Cup Cake wedding cakes I had baked and decorated. I used a rich dark moist chocolate cake, coated them with poured white chocolate and decorated them with simple red or silver chocolate hearts.

So last Tuesday the birthday cake I baked was a sponge also. With a layer of jam and butter cream. This makes it much more difficult to get a smooth sharp base for the icing layer. Despite being badly out of practice I managed it reasonably well.
I had to clear my art materials away from my work space and drag all the cake decorating equipment out. As you can see it was an unusual theme for a 21st birthday cake. not the usual pretty, pretty cake. The birthday girl was a rugby fan which was also the theme she had for her 18th birthday cake I did 3 years ago. Maybe that was why I decided to tackle it.

The actual finished cake turned out slightly different to my computer generated design. I think It's called 'artistic licence'. I'm afraid it wasn't as crisp a finished as I would have liked but an acute attack of arthritis was giving me a great amount of hassel at the time.

The Great Northern Hotel Furore

The Peterborough Evening Telegraph started a furore in the city with its leading article in lasts Tuesdays paper. It reported on the proposed ‘Station Quarter’ development proposal by Halcrow, the firm employed to do the planning of the development. The brief implies that the Great Northern Hotel would need to be demolished to create space for all the proposed development.
This hotel has been standing for 150 years through various owners and two World Wars. The main part of the building still retains much of its original structure designed in 1849 by Lincoln architect, Henry Goddard. It was built by Mr FW Costar for The great Northern Railway at a cost of £2500 and it opened on April 1st 1852, the Great Northern Hotel is a truly classic ‘Railway Hotel’ with all the elegance and charm of the Victorian period.

1914 Soldiers assembly for War at the station in front of the Great Northern Hotel. and the Hotel today

More than a century and half later, £3,000,000 extensive restoration and expansion projects have ensured that the spacious and light rooms have been preserved, as well as additional banqueting and conference facilities made available. The restaurant and the cosy, comfortable lounge open onto the attractive gardens, which surround the hotel providing a tranquil, relaxing environment. A stature of the late Duke Ellington the legendary jazz musician by Jonathan Dimbleby graces the gardens. The walls and corridors of the hotel is home to an amazing eclectic collection of art work as well as a private gallery of art housed in the old bakery of the hotel.
The hotel’s owner Mr Peter Boizot actually lives in the hotel. A local man whose world wide entrepreneurial enterprises made him a millionaire has been a benefactor to many city projects. Amongst these are the Posh football club, the Cathedral, and Flag Fen.
The angry protest letters poured into the Telegraph offices for the next few days including protests from the local MP, the ex PM, the longest serving city councilor, the Bishop and the Peterborough Civic Society. It seems many people in Peterborough are determined that enough of Peterborough important architect has gone and the Great Northern Hotel is one too many.

There have been many famous people stay in the Hotel over the years and the comedian Ernie Wise held his wedding reception at the hotel.

I was privileged to have been given a tour of the hotel and a viewing of Mr Boizot private art collection just a few months ago and I too believe that it cannot possibly be considered for demolition. Mr Boizot has made a wonderful job of restoring the fabric of the old part of the building to its Victorian splendor.

SO HANDS OFF THE GREAT NORTHERN HOTEL

Wet Wet Wet

This morning has dawned frosty and bright a definite change from yesterday and the last few grey days. Most of yesterday and well into the night we had heavy constant rain. The rain gauge reads one inch of rain.

I'm ignoring the knee problems today It is slowly inproving and the inflammation subsiding. It's a wonder with all this damp wet and cold weather. I hope I dont make it worse again but I can't stay in any longer. So I'm off out this morning to Spalding with Prue. Dave has to chop some more logs for the fire and he chauffeuring young Grace this week.

Spalding and the Arts

There's quite a few flooded patches in the fields on the way to Spalding this morning. Prue wanted to go early to find parking easily which we did. We want to go to the South Holland Opens Arts exhibition at the South Holland Center.

I needed to go to Book Mark in the Crescent. I love this book shop and it's little friendly teashop. There's not many independent bookshops left but this is a really good award winning one. After I find the books Dave wanted we have a welcome morning coffee in the cafe.

Just across the road from Book Mark is a small Art Gallery called The Woodbine Gallery run by the Yoraths a husband and wife team. They have another Gallery at their home in Whaplode Drove. We have a look at the lovely art work displayed.There's some really nice pieces I would love to have on my walls except for the price tag. Prue gives her card with her blog address for them to look at. I think much of her work is of a similar excellent caliber but she's so full of self doubt.

The South Holland Center is a modern building in the heart of Spalding with a small cinema coffee shop and conference/meeting rooms. It was built on the site of the old Corn Exchange.

I had entered three pieces for this years Open Arts but unfortunately none were selected. Prue had two of her three selected so we were here to view the exhibition and her 'hung' pieces. The overall standard was excellent but again very safe subjects. There was none there that really shouted out at me. The lighting was difficult to get good photos for the blog. I also found the dark chains the pictures were hung from very distracting

These are some pictures from the catalogue and The one below was Whittlesey Wash by James Green and I really liked it but it was behind glass and the reflections from the window made it really difficult to view which was such a pity.

It was noon before we emerges from the exhibition so I suggested a light lunch at Serendipity the small cafe two shops away from the South Holland. I had an mouth watering bowl full of homemade vegetable, lentil and ham soup with fresh bread. Very filling and tasty. A good end to a pleasant morning

It's no fun getting Old!

I'm suffering at the moment from an acute bout of arthritis of my right knee. I've had it before but never this bad. I had very little sleep last night it was so uncomfortable. The pain spreads up to my hip and down to my foot. Hot packs, ibuprofen gel and paracetamol haven't been much help. I need to get to the Chemist for more glucosamaine and chondroitin. I'm having to give the swimming a miss until it calms down. I don't remember my toe joint being as bad. although I did have stronger pain relief medication. I've resisted going to the 'Quack' so far as I know I can't tolerate anti inflammatory drugs
I've been trawling through the Arthritis Internet sites to see what else I can do to help my self. I suppose the main one is - GET BACK ON THE HEALTHY EATING REGIME.

On the 'Arthritis Today' website I came across this article

Specific Differences in Finger Lengths May Predict Osteoarthritis Risk

A new way to predict your risk of osteoarthritis (OA) may be right at your fingertips. A study published in the January 2008 issue of Arthritis & Rheumatism suggests that having uncommonly long ring fingers raises the risk for developing OA of the knee, particularly among women.
The ratio of index-to-ring-finger length is a trait known for it sexual differences. In men, the index finger is typically shorter than the ring finger; in women, the two tend to be about equal. Smaller ratios between the two fingers have intriguing hormonal connections, including higher prenatal testosterone levels, lower estrogen concentrations, and higher sperm counts. Whether this trait affects the risk of OA, which is associated with both physical activity and estrogen deficiency, has not been examined – until recently.
British researchers recruited 2,049 rheumatology patients with severe hip or knee OA and 1,123 controls with no evidence of OA. X-rays of the participants’ hands were classified in one of three ways: type 1, index finger longer than the ring finger; type 2, index finger equal to the ring finger; or type 3, index finger shorter than the ring finger. Not surprisingly, men were 2.5 times more likely than women to have the type 3 pattern.
Compared with the other finger types, the type 3 finger was associated with an increased risk of OA involving any part of the knee or the hip. The risk of knee OA in participants with the type 3 finger pattern was nearly double that of the risk for participants without this pattern, and the risk was greater for women. Interestingly , among participants of both sexes, researchers found that the smaller the ratio between the upper finger joints, the greater the risk of of OA of the tibiofemoral knee joint.

Mmmm .............. OK fascinating but some what irrelevant at the moment!

Then there was this folk lore remedy for Gin soaked raisins and on the Human Nutrition Research Centre site in California was a remedy involving eating Fresh Bing Cherries definitely sounds better but only good for a certain time of the year.

There's so much information out there and it's difficult sifting the good from the bad and the plain ridiculous. maybe by the time I've made sense of it the pain will have subsided. Well that's what I'm banking on anyway.

Epiphany

So today is the start of Epiphany. Not being a devout christian I've never thought about it before.

But what is Epiphany? A root around the Internet wasn't much help. The Catholic site was positively confusing.

It seems to have different meanings to different people and christian denominations -

Epiphany - extends to Ash Wednesday

Sometimes known as Three kings Day

Epiphany means - to show or make known,

Epiphany -a noun- A realisation.

The twelve days of Christmas end with the Feast of Epiphany also called "The Adoration of the Magi" or "The Manifestation of God."

Celebrated on January 6, it is known as the day of the Three Kings (or wise men/magi): Caspar, Melchior and Balthasar. According to an old legend based on a Bible story, these three kings saw, on the night when Christ was born, a bright star, followed it to Bethlehem and found there the Christchild and presented it with gold, frankincense and myrrh.
January 6, is the last day of Christmas, and comes with its own traditions, rituals and symbols. In many homes the Christmas tree is taken down and in some areas is burnt in a big bonfire. For the children this is an especially joyous occasion because, associated with taking down the tree goes the "plündern" (raiding) of the tree. The sweets, chocolate ornaments wrapped in foil or cookies, which have replaced the sugar plums, are the raiders' rewards.

So last night was 12th Night, the official end of the Christmas period. My meager decorations mostly came down several days ago and today the rest followed and are now stowed away in the attic. Cards have been looked through a final time and awaiting recycling. The wreath's removed from the front door. It was a new wreath this year and a real one. The trouble is it's so nice I can bear to chuck it out yet so its hung up on my easel in the studio.

The early morning frost clears to a bright, cold clear sunny day. The algae on the tree trunks glow bright green in the sun light. I have a wander round the garden while Dave devours the Sunday papers in the conservatory.

Around the garden new life is sprouting through the cold soil. Snowdrops. iris, daffodils and even these miniature tulips are shooting through. They're all too early though. The tulips shouldn't be visible for at least another months.

Oh I need Help!!!

Mirror, Mirror

"Mirror, mirror on the wall

Do you have to tell it all?

Where do you get the glaring right

To make my clothes look too darn tight?

I think I'm fine but I can see

You won't cooperate with me,

The way you let the shadows play

You'd think my hair was getting gray.

What's that, you say? A double chin?

No, that's the way the light comes in,

If you persist in peering so

You'll confiscate my facial glow,

And then if you're not hanging straight

You'll tell me next I'm gaining weight,

I'm really quite upset with you

For giving this distorted view;

I hate you being smug and wise

O, look what's happened to my thighs!

I warn you now, O mirrored wall,

Since we're not on speaking terms at all,

If I look like this in my new jeans

You'll find yourself in smithereens!!"

A Cold New Year

On New years day and I was determined to have a trip out and thought about Sandringham and Hunstanton. The weather was cold, grey and trying to rain. We eventually headed off in the opposite direction into Northamptonshire. I'd read about a country pub called The King's Head' in a small village called Wadenhoe. A quick telephone call to check that they were open and serving lunches before we left confirmed they were doing an 'all you can eat' buffet lunch. Sounded a good spread and so we decided to give it a try.

I like the Northamptonshire country side. Gentle green rolling hills. Trees and hedgerows lining the country lanes. Pretty villages with stone cottages and thatched roofs.

The light misty fog shrouding Peterborough lifted as we travelled westwards but the heavy grey clouds remained. Despite the greyness I find I can appreciate the colours in the countryside whatever the weather. The bright green lichen covering the barks of trees in the road side copses. The ochres of the dead summer hedgerow plants and the dark umber of the teasel heads standing proud of all the other dying plants. Wadenhoe is a typical small Northamptonshire village. A pretty village built completely of limestone with a smattering of thatched roofs. Not a red brick to be seen. The Pub, The Kings Head is at the end of a small lane by the River Nene. The Nene flows through Peterborough but here is a very different side of the Nene meandering through the country side. The Pub has a meadow leading down to the waters edge. In summer it comes into it's own being a welcoming 'watering hole' along a country walk known as 'The Nene Way'.
The Pub was warm welcoming with a roaring log fire. The luncheon buffet spread was extremely good and we had a good feast. I had a chance to look at the normal weekday and Sunday menu. Very good it looked. Definitely a Pub to make a return visit to. The pub was not quite the last building in the lane. That was a well kept little Community hall where Cream Teas are served in the summer to the walkers and ramblers on the Nene Way. The track goes off from the end of the lane up a small but steepish hill where the village church sits at the top.
We decided not to tackle the walk then as we were not dressed for rambling but made a mental note that it was one for a later date.

Heaps of Stuff

Heaps of Stuff by Pam Ayres

How I wish that I was tidy
How I wish that I was neat
How I wish I was methodical
Like others down our street.

I tried to stem the rising tide
I tried to hold it back
But I have been the victim
Of a heap of stuff attack.

Yes, heaps of stuff come creeping,
They clutter up the hall.
And heaps of stuff are softly
Climbing halfway up the wall.

At each end of the staircase
Is a giant heap, a stack;
One to carry up the stairs
And one to carry back.

In a heap of stuff invasion
They settle everywhere -
grovel on the lino
They tower on the chair.

You're searching for a jacket,
"Is it in here?" you shout,
And, opening the cupboard door,
A heap of stuff falls out.

But heaps are many-faceted
And heaps are multi-faced
And what a heap is made of
Will depend on where it's placed.

Now if it's in the passage
It is mostly boots and shoes
And if it's on the sofa
It is magazines and news.

If it's in the shed
It's broken propagating frames
And if it's in the bathroom
Well, it's best to say no names,

And if it's in the bedroom -
Your own and not the guest's -
The heap of stuff is mostly made
Of socks and shirts and vests.

For a heap is indestructible,
It's something you can't fight.
If you split it up by day
It joins back up at night.

So cunningly positioned
as from room to room you trek,
Increasing all the chances
That you trip and break your neck.

But step into my parlour
Now I've forced the door ajar;
I'll excavate an easy chair
-Just cling there where you are.

And together we'll survey it
Till our eyes they feast enough
On the tidiest home in England
Underneath the heaps of stuff.

Oh Dear......... how apt is this

My New Years Resolution........................

To de-stuff the house!

Happy New Year to you all.