Note Number 30…Simple, Saturday Shopping…

And on the left we have Leakers Bakery at the Market and on the Right Mike English from Fruits of the Earth.  (he has a lovely wife called Sue who also runs the shop…follow the link and you can see her!) 

Today I did local, high street shopping. I drove the car to Bridport and parked up in the car-park, took my shopping bags and proceeded first to the bank to get some cash. The market was in action with stalls lining West Street, East Street, South Street. The day was sunny with some ‘light showers’ so I took my umbrella which I used once and then proceeded to leave in every shop that I visited and then had to return to collect it!

I went to WH Smith to buy Writing Magazine, (looking forward to reading that this evening) I would have bought Writers’ Forum too, but there was no copy available. I popped into Boots the chemist, and I then went to the Holland and Barrett Health food shop and bought some Protein Powder for The Man who apparently needs to take it each night with milk to stave off the cramps after a long bike ride. There is, by the way, a new bike so now three in the shed. It’s a pretty fancy one and, ‘absolutely necessary’ for the summer of course, (doesn’t he have one of those already?).

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Ah…a new orange helmet –  to match the new orange shoes…a cycling Beau Brummel 

I went into my favourite dress shop Butterfly Boho and managed not to buy anything (even though I’ve got a lot of spending to do to catch up with The Man and his bikes). The owner told me that she’d just bought a load of new stock and that it would be in the shop by mid-week so I will have to go back on Wednesday.

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Butterfly Boho…my favourite clothes shop in the world! 

I browsed the market stalls, stopping at Leaker’s Bakery (they have a shop in the town as well as the market stall). I bought a loaf of soda bread and I was happy to buy some Dorset apple cake but I was given three, free, wedges. Apparently the baker had forgotten to add any sugar so I (along with several others) were treated to a freebie with the proviso that we returned to give a true account of the taste…and to say whether or not it would be worth marketing? Our conclusion after ingesting the portions, was that, yes, the sugar was definitely missed, but actually the taste was not at all bad and that the apple gave some sweetness. Our suggestion would be to make it again but, perhaps add a little amount of sugar.

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Soda Bread and Sugar Free Dorset Apple Cake

Animal House Pet shop for dog biscuits, food and treats. Everything a dog owner needs in here.

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Animal House Pet Shop 

Next stop the super duper Wholefood Shop, Fruits where I purchased local organic asparagus, sweet potato and avocado pear. Also, the wonderful shop had argan oil, an absolute necessity for an authentic Moroccan Lamb Tagine (according to Anthony Worrall Thompson). I went into several shops and some of them hadn’t even heard of the oil and some had but reckoned you put it on your face…I got some strange looks when I said I needed it to cook with.

 

Fruits of the Earth shop front and the Argan Oil…for consumption not face (but I guess I could give it a try when I run out of olive oil?) 

Now then, I know that I visited a few chain stores as well as the local stores but the experience of shopping in the high street is a pleasure. Charging around the supermarket and throwing my things first in the trolley and then in the boot of the car or a leisurely stroll in and out of the shops, can be compared to taking time drinking a fine wine, accompanied by delicate canapés, or, chucking cheap and nasty plonk down your throat with a packet of cheese and onion crisps.

Admittedly, you have to carry the shopping a bit further, in one or two large shopping bags but balanced properly, I didn’t have a problem. I walked further, enjoyed the view up to Colmer’s Hill from Bridport, passed the time of day with other shoppers and a general feeling of wellbeing came over me. Relaxed and happy I returned to the cottage with my goods. What’s more I added several thousand steps to my daily target!

West Street shops and Market Stalls, View to Colmer’s Hill and Snook’s Famous Hat Shop (didn’t visit here today but I often have) 

Note Number 29…Amsterdam for some but Kenilworth and Manchester for me…

Leaving from Crewkerne…arrival in Amsterdam (photo  credit MoreAdventure )

The Man cycled from London to Amsterdam last week. Leaving Blackheath early on Thursday morning the 4th May and arriving in Amsterdam on the evening of Sunday the 7th May. Well done him. The route was London–Dover-Calais-Bruges-Rotterdam-Amsterdam. He said that whilst the route was pretty flat, the wind was against them and the weather not as good as they had hoped but he’s done it! Next trip is just a short hop on Sunday from Watchet to West Bay. Coast to Coast to raise money for the Dorset and Somerset Air Ambulance – only 78 miles a snip for my man. Good on him I say.

While he was away, I spent a little bit of time in the garden putting in plants, weeding etc., and walking the dog.

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Loving the Meadows at the Moment

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The sight of this milk in the delivery crate reminded me of being a young girl. In the winter the birds always used to peck through the metallic cap and enjoy the cream from the top of the milk!

 Friday, I took Jpeg to the kennels and took myself to Kenilworth in Warwickshire. A visit to my lovely ex-mother-in-law who is almost 92. It was great to see her still living independently albeit not as lively as she might have been in her younger days, she’s still got a marvellous sense of humour and makes the most of  things.  I hope, if I live to be in my 90s I will be as game as she is. She is full of memories, as are so many people her age and it’s a pleasure to listen to her reminisce.

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Good old Mother-in-Law, always a smile and a story to tell. 

While in Kenilworth I met up with a writing colleague for the first time. Jo Derrick. We had communicated up to this point, only on Facebook, messenger, twitter and email for at least two if not three years. Often, when you eventually meet up, it can be awkward, difficult or just plain wrong but not in this case. We had a fabulous evening and there was hardly a pause in the conversation. We covered a wide variety of topics and discovered who our ‘mutual’ writing friends were. Can’t wait to meet up again. The writing fraternity are a sharing caring lot – on the whole.

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Fun with Jo Derrick…looking forward to the next meeting…

For the weekend I drove on up to Manchester to visit friends we had made whilst living in Italy. During May, I have now seen almost everyone from our little town in Italy who lives in England! It was a busy time in Manchester. Walking, eating, drinking and talking.

Beautiful Countryside at Styal Mill Grounds – and I loved this vibrant pink Rhododendron.

On Sunday evening we had a barbecue and were joined by a young French friend of mine, who could not relax until the results of the French Election were announced. Thankfully, the election of Macron was a relief – so the whole table cheered and we drank a toast.

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Macron…Let’s see what happens next…

The conversation inevitably turned to political situation in the UK and I don’t mind telling you that I have no idea what will happen to this country on June 8th. I have never before been so unsure of my vote. I do not know to which party I want to pledge my vote. I’m pretty clear as to who I don’t want to vote for but the choice of the others does not fill me with too much inspiration either. I reckon, we, the public, are constantly fed a load of rubbish by the government and the main opposition and I, like many other people, want hear some solid facts, policies and sense. But it seems that is not the way things are done. I didn’t want to come out of the EU and now that article 50 has been triggered, as I understand it, we can’t stop the inevitable even if the public changed their minds and voted to stay in, should they be given the opportunity. I believe, we would have to re-negotiate joining…what a palaver. Between now and June the 8th I will read as much as I can but how much can you believe? And when will the different political parties stop knocking each other and start telling us what their own party plans are for this country and how they intend to fulfill any promises they might rashly make? That is the question.

Happy Days.

Collected The Man from St Pancras on Monday night having driven down from Manchester and after a brief stay in the big smoke we at last arrived back in Dorset. It’s good to travel but it’s oh so good to come home…

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…and the dog agrees…

Note Number 28…Visitors, Visitors, Visitors…

I’ve put pen to paper again with a poem. I hope you readers all know me well enough to realise that it’s all tongue in cheek and that actually I love being a hostess and that I am a sociable, gregarious person.  We were visited by a few of our good friends, all of whom we first met while we were living in Italy.

Visitors…

We’ve had visitors to stay in April and I had to get things straight
They came and went like fleas on their hols, from morning until late
I had to do the housework proper, not flick around light with the duster
Dig deep into my domestic soul, find some enthusiasm to muster

I splashed the extra strong germ killer, gave the bathroom a jolly good scrub
I added a bit of fragrance so it smelt like a flowering shrub
The sheets were done, the bed was made, the food all bought and stored
The wine and beer safe in the fridge. I hoped they wouldn’t get bored

The first lot came for only one night, we packed much in before they fled
To much better pastures; a hotel, en-suite with a king size bed
A quick turnaround at our end to welcome the next lucky pair
They hung around for two nights… more than enough to bear

On to the final couple…a collection at dawn o’clock!
From the airport seventy miles away – my body’s still in shock
They redeemed themselves, a gift of smoked salmon, certainly Ireland’s best
Then ruined it all, with several demands to complete a tough, tourist quest

Off to see Lenny’s farm shop and Broadchurch’s death-cliff height
The town pub was too smelly, and the Guinness, bejaysus was shite!
They live in Italy, so he wanted to go to a typical, thatched local Inn
I found one, he liked it, but the beer wasn’t good, bloody hell, I just could not win

We’d got rid of the lot and had settled right down, to recoup our lost get-up-and-go
When a knock on the door. No! Another fine pair, wanting glasses of cold Prosecco
They stayed long enough, to scoff all the nuts, the dip, the breadsticks and wine
Then up they both jumped, thank goodness, they had somewhere much better to dine!

Ninette Hartley ©

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West Bay…the location for the Broadchurch TV series. Only a ten minute drive from our cottage.

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Washingpool Farm Shop…another location for Broadchurch

Walking the dog with our visitors

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The Ilchester Arms at Symondsbury…thatched Inn, beer not good aparently…(gin and tonic was great though) 

Note Number 26… My Husband is A Cyclist…

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My husband is a cyclist and says he’s not obsessed
He doesn’t have just one bike but a couple, more or less
There’s one for the winter with disc brakes and thick tyres
And another for the summer months when, with the effort he perspires
Then of course there is the spinner that he sets up here at home
When the weather is against him and he can’t go out and roam

He’s found himself some special shoes, three pairs of them he’s got
They each fit to different pedals and of those he has a lot
I don’t understand any of it, it’s way beyond my grasp
I only had a bike for shopping, in the dim and distant past
That had simply three gears for helping on the hills
Nowadays, there’s twenty-three, enhanced with little pills

The weight has dropped off by the stone and he’s looking young and fit
And now the lycra’s not so stretched around the lumpy bit
More padding needed round the back and butt cream, liberally spread
When he reaches home after 100k, he sometimes looks half dead
He really loves all three bikes, but not more than he loves me
It’s the Strava App he’s constantly on, that causes jealousy

He uses it for logging all the rides, with hills, and speeds,
His buddies upload comments on their each and every feed
It’s a bit like Facebook for those on bikes, or swimming or a run
They strive to beat their highest goals and say it’s all in fun
But underneath the jolly remarks there lies a green eyed streak
And woe betide the person who makes fun of the Strava geek

So, my husband is a cyclist, he rides the hills and vales
In the rolling Dorset countryside for miles, and miles of trails
I’m not a clinging wife which is probably just as well
And I’m happy to let him pursue whatever rings his bell
As it keeps him out of trouble and gives me quality time
To write a bit of fiction, or complete another rhyme

Ninette Hartley April 2017©

Note 23…Spring Flowers and A Mixed Bag of Waffle…Plastic not Acceptable…

It’s funny how people chat about the weather and the seasons and the time of year.

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Beautiful Spring Flowers at Higher Ash Farm. A public footpath goes right through the farmyard…how lovely to see this display for walkers to appreciate. 

“Clocks will soon be going forward,” says one. “Can’t wait for the lighter evenings.” says another. “Have you seen all the Spring flower out? They’re amazing. Makes one feel good.”

Yes, it does make you feel good to see the daffodils, primroses, snowdrops in the hedgerows and in the gardens too. I’m loving England right now. I’m missing the warmer days that are probably around in Italy at the moment but there’s nothing like an English Spring day when  sun comes out.

If only everybody could love the countryside as I do and please stop throwing rubbish out of windows or deliberately dropping waste paper or litter out of their pockets onto the road. There is much publicity at the moment about the plastic being dumped into our seas and oceans but what about the stuff that is strewn everywhere. This habit of chucking stuff out isn’t confined to the countryside, the towns and cities are as bad. The only difference is there is perhaps more wildlife in country areas than urban, who could be affected by the crap people dispose of in any way they wish.

I have been collecting from the side of the road but sometimes I can’t reach a plastic cup or can when it’s been chucked out of a lorry window because it’s too high for me to reach.

Why do we have we need to use so much plastic? Why can’t we go back to paper bags for food and glass bottles for drinks. I particularly hate the fast food containers, those yellow polystyrene burger boxes and massive plastic beakers with lids and plastic straws through a hole in the top.

I hate these containers 

When I was younger, I used to love it in the American films when people went to the grocery store they carried it all home in a brown paper bag which they held in their arms. I thought that looked so cool. Now, everyone is laden down with several plastic carrier bags. Even me! I try to remember to take my ‘bag for life’ into the shop with me but so often I forget them and leave them in the car.

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NEW RESOLUTION – If I forget the bags I will put everything back in the trolley or the basket, take it to the car and pack it there.

Please can we go back to wrapping the Fish and Chips in Newspaper. Return to glass bottles that you pay a deposit for and then return. Food that you can buy and wrap up in paper, not pre-wrapped in, impossible-to-open, hard plastic. That goes for other commodities too, practically everything you purchase is impenetrably packed, in a completely sealed unit that you need some implement not yet invented to release the said article before it can be used…phew!

Oh…I’ve only just started on this…I feel a few bullet points coming on…

  1. Why do many magazines have to be put into clear plastic bags?
  2.  What’s the point of screws and nails being sold in packets of 50 or 100, bring back the old hardware shops.
  3. Ban take-away foods – no – on second thoughts just ban the ghastly packaging.
  4. Ban all plastic packaging
  5. Ban plastic plates, knives and forks…who needs them anyway?
  6. What’s wrong with using proper cutlery and crockery when you go out for a picnic? As a matter of fact the Italians are the worst culprits, they will serve up a complete meal on a plastic plates; pasta, meat and finishing with desserts. That’s three plastic plates for every person attending, tut tut.
  7. (I suppose we could go back to paper plates).
  8. Why is that we cannot put black plastic containers in the recycling bin? (in West Dorset that is).
  9. Ban mega stores, bring back rural bus routes, village shops and town-centre shopping…

Okay, I’m going off the point now. Time to stop waffling and have a cup of tea. I’ll be moaning about dog walkers next time…

Note Number 21…One for his knob…

“ Fifteen two, fifteen four and a pair is six…Oh and one for his knob,” I say
“Oh blimey are you two playing that game again?” says my daughter.
It’s me and The Man playing Cribbage. We do it all the time.

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This is NOT a true representation of me or The Man…but I kinda think the look on her face might be reminiscent of the look on my face when I’m winning….

The Man and I have spent a great deal of time on our own together, which we like. We are happy in each other’s company. (Watch the comments section for a cynical reply!). When we were in Italy, we watched some DVDs but not much television but, we enjoyed and still enjoy playing cards. He taught me to play Cribbage which we love and whilst recently in Madeira we had a tournament, which he won 7 – 5. We usually decide the criteria of our battles and after the Madeira clash, on our return we did the End Of February, tournament. However, we didn’t have that much spare time so only three games. I won 2 – 1. Next one up will be the whole of March, The Spring Event which could be a lot of games – we’ll see. Rules and guidance for how to play here.

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Cribbage: Cards, board for pegging, dealer button (we always need this because we forget who’s dealing) 

We rarely argue when playing cards but it does sometimes get a little heated. I think I’m a good loser but hate it if it’s a complete trouncing. He thinks he’s a good loser but as he doesn’t experience it that often how can we tell? Oh, yes I do remember once the table being thrust from underneath sending the cards scattering everywhere meaning I couldn’t add up the points to find out exactly how many million points I had beaten him by. That was in the early days, it never happens now…

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Our well used Pack of Pinocle Cards

The other card game for two that we play is Pinochle, (pronounced peaknuckle) It’s an American game with two parts to it, melding and winning tricks and counting up the card values at the end. It’s played with two packs containing only the cards from 9 – Ace (Ace being a high scoring card). I like Pinochle, it has some strategy to it and isn’t just down to luck. You can see the rules and how to play here.

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Burraco is probably our favourite game. We learnt it while living in Italy and it’s a very popular game there – it originates from Uruguay, but now I think the Italians have adopted it as their own. You can play with just two but it’s better with at least four. It’s a partner game and a complicated game to explain but suffice it to say, it’s a cross between Canasta and Rummy. It’s played with two packs, including the jokers, 108 cards in all. You have to learn the value of the cards and you have to make a run of at least seven cards of the same suit or, seven cards of the same value. These seven cards are called a Burraco. Twos and Jokers are wild. It’s a great game and the Italians play it with great passion to the point of being scary. Heaven help you if an Italian is your partner and you make a mistake!

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The Guy on the Left is Obvioualy Italian…. 

When we first got back to England we missed our Burraco evenings with friends or at the club in Valmir. So, we’ve taught our new neighbours in Dorset to play the game and now play with them every week. We need to teach a few more people so that we can have a proper tournament every now and then. An early start is advised – this never happened in Italy. They have to have their supper before they arrive and the first game doesn’t begin until after nine-thirty! Many nights, The Man and I have travelled up the hill from Valmir to Petritoli at one-thirty in the morning feeling weary and Burracoed-out, sometimes having eaten a bowl of pasta around midnight. Rules for Burraco are here

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Of course some of you out there will be Bridge players and no doubt swear that this is the only game worth playing. We’ve tried it, but couldn’t get on with it. Too many conventions and too many complications for my brain.

I think you’re either a card/game player on not. I would mostly prefer to play a game than watch TV – but I do enjoy a good drama series…Ooh, that reminds me, the new Broadchurch has started, will have to get stuck into that!

Note Number 17…January’s Over…(warning post not suitable for vegetarians or vegans…)

Today the snowdrops are showing their pretty white heads in the garden, it’s such a lovely sight…Spring is on its way and it’s only about seven and a half weeks before the clocks change…

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January 2017 is over – it was a dry January for some but for me only demi-sec, I did have some Prosecco, a gin and tonic or two and a few glasses of red, few glasses of white, but overall, I was good.  The weight is staying off and if I can lose another half-stone, then I will indeed be a happy bunny. I’ve been walking as much as possible and the first part of January was pretty dry but the end of it and the first two days of February have been mega wet and windy and more to come over the weekend for those of us in the southwest.

Wet days walking in the fields, dog with her hi-vis jacket on…

As we live in the countryside, country things happen and during January I was given a brace of pheasants.  I gladly accepted, it would have been rude had I declined. I didn’t shoot them, not do I wish to, but in my opinion, they’ve had a better life than the chicken I buy, even an organic free range one. The problem with the pheasant is they don’t come plucked, gutted and oven ready.  We hung them just for a couple of days and then I had to face the music and roll up my sleeves. I’d done it before but a long time ago so I googled it and youtube showed me how. Except, it was to skin them and not pluck them. Well, I have to say, it was pretty easy although a bit gory and taking off the feathers along with the skin was just like taking its coat off. Very weird. Vegetarians and vegans, turn away now….I’ve left out the really gory photos out…

A Brace of Pheasant Hanging outside the Front Door …then in preparation. 

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I know, I know… I look like a big game hunter but honestly I didn’t shoot them…Also, had my gilet on under my apron so look over large…can’t see that half-stone I’ve lost. 

In January, thoughts turn to holidays and sunshine. My next postings will be from Madeira,  I’m looking forward to it as I’ve not visited it previously. Before I booked our ten days away, I tried to find out where the good weather would be within a short distance from the UK, also we wanted to fly from Bristol and not any of the London airports. One website came up with the five best places being, Sicily, Malta, The Canary Islands, Cyprus and Madeira and we chose the last one. I’ve looked at the forecast as it does seem we might have some rain but the temperatures are up in the late teens, so I’ll be content with that…there’s always a glass of madeira to sup!

See you in Madeira folks.