Note Number 54. . .A Month to Catch Up

I knew it had been a while since I posted but could not believe it was the beginning of March, when we had all that ice and snow, that I last updated my blog. Well, it would be thoroughly boring to take you through the four weeks with a day blow by blow account so I’ll precis the 2nd March to the 30th and we’ll go into detail for the last couple of days.

Most of March was spent avoiding the rain, snow and ice, walking the dog in a sodden field or delivering The Man to outlying places in Dorset so that he could cycle back. Sunday 25th he fought his way from Wareham to Axminster via Poole and Weymouth and back to Wareham, 206 kilometres to be exact. Why? I have no idea but I was proud of him even though he was completely wrecked when I collected him at 8.45pm after 13 hours on the road, (including a couple of breaks.)

I have been writing plenty. My fingers are worn down as are the computer keys but it may be to no avail. I’ve performed my poem Waiting at Apothecary Words in Bridport and I entered the Flash Fiction Slam at Bridport Arts Centre — I wasn’t placed but it’s the taking part that counts. A friend of mine won the people’s vote, so that was enough for me.

Now for the Easter Weekend: We drove up from Dorset on Friday — the traffic going our way was not too bad but the poor holiday punters travelling west, were in slow, sometimes stationary traffic. The rain, however still poured on we poor travellers, whichever direction we were taking.

longdays

Jeremy Irons and Lesley Manville 

Friday evening I had booked tickets for A Long Days Journey into Night by Eugene O’Neill. I knew that it would be a long production and I should have paid more for the seats. The leg room in the Wyndham’s Theatre Grand Circle was akin to a Ryanair aeroplane. But, the play was excellent and the three-and-a-half hours fairly flew by. Lesley Manville as the morphine-adicted Mary was superb and Jeremy Irons played her actor husband whose penny pinching ways contribute to the angst and emotional turmoil of the family. You can read a review of the prodution here  . I was in awe of the sheer volume of diaglogue and on the one hand I was inspired to rush home and write a play, but, on the other hand I acknowledged the certain fact that I would never be able to produce such an eloquent piece of work.

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Saturday we visited The Foundling Museum, I had wanted to go there since I saw in mentioned on the BBC programme Stitch in Time  when they had talked about mothers leaving a swatch of material with their baby when left at the Foundling Hospital. This little token would enable the mother to be reunited with their child in the future should they be in a position to do so.  The museum gives an insight to the lives of babies and children from 1739 – 1936 who were either abandoned in the streets or handed in to the hospital to be cared for. Now the hospital is now run in the form of the children’s charity Corum. Captain Thomas Corum was the founder of the hospital back in 1739. As is usual with these museums it has stirred in me a need to find out more about the stories of the children who were left here. It is heart wrenching to read the book of billets, (of which there are many) each billet is the admission slip for a foundling and they make sorry reading, just a number, date, age (if known), a few bare facts, a token, if there is one, attached to the page. I need to read more about it and will be searching for books to give me more information.

 

The association has a strong connection to The Arts, music, art, literature etc., with many well-known artists, writers and musicians donating their work to the foundling hospital to be used as a means of generating money and interest. Handel was a particularly ardent fan of the hospital and not only did he leave them a substantial sum of money on his death he also left the manuscript of the Messiah and all rights to it.

There are several displays in the museums and I was particularly drawn to Labelled,  A display exploring young people’s experiences of being labelled as a ‘child in care’. These were portrayed by means of a name tape in a child’s shirt with derogatory and hurtful comments made by bullies, teachers and others in charge.  Clever idea.  I was also intrigues by, Mead’s Mysterious Medicines created by some children from Great Ormond Street Hospital. You can read a little about these and the other installations here.

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In the basement of the museum was an exhibition of the poetry book The Lost Words I was particularly interested in this because I bought the book at Christmas, but I’m ashamed to say that I haven’t read it through properly yet, I will now though. What inspirational poems and illustrations. If you can get to the exhibition then you won’t be disappointed. If you can’t, then just buy the book. It’s beautiful.

the lost words

Last night we ate Vietnamese food at the Cây-Tre in Soho. Buzzing atmosphere and fab food. Loved it! We finished our evening back at our London base with a game of Cribbage…The Man won. How very annoying. I’ll get him this evening though!

Vietnamese

One of many dishes of Vietnamese food savoured on Saturday night. 

Note Number 52…Waiting…

 

 

Here is a little poem I put together while I was walking the dog and waiting for her to finish looking into the distance at. . . nothing. It made me think about how much of my life I spend waiting for someone or something. When you’ve read this you can add your own ‘waiting for…’ in the comments.

 

I’m always waiting
waiting for the dog
waiting for the kettle to boil
for the washing machine to finish, for a cake to bake
how much time do I spend waiting?
waiting for the bathroom to be free
waiting for my money to get to the bank
I’ve always waited for that, first birthday gifts, then salary, now pension
I’ve never waited at the altar
even though I’ve been married three times
I’ve waited in the courtroom for a divorce

waiting at the cemetery to watch a burial
waiting to spread the ashes of a loved one
stood, waiting in line to buy a stamp
waited for people to come through the barrier
at the airport or the station
waited for a taxi to come along

Waiting, always waiting
I’m always waiting for my turn,
at the shops, at the doctor’s, at the poetry evening,
at a dance competition when I was younger
for my husband to come back from a bike ride now
I’ve waited to be served, with tea, coffee, cold drink
wine, water, snacks, food
waiting for a letter to come
waiting for an email to tell me good news
waiting for my next birthday
waiting at a junction

waiting for a baby to be born, waiting for a relative to die
we’re born waiting.
pausing, postponing, lingering, hanging around, marking time,
killing time when we should be living time
but
we’re waiting

waiting. . .

always waiting

 

 

Ninette Hartley © February 2018

waiting for computer

This is The Man…every day! 

 

 

Note Number 37…Things My Mother Said or Did…

Mother 1982

My mother in 1982

I have just finished reading Sue Perkins memoirs Spectacles – brilliant. Thinking about writing my own story, I have enough notes to fill at least one volume. Anyway, thinking about it – led me on to this blog post in which I’ve included a  few random snippets of advice and things that my mother said or did that have stayed with me. I know I quoted her on FaceBook recently with the classic, ‘If you don’t blow your own trumpet no-one else will.’

Read on…

Me: (after a terrible argument with a friend) She said I was hateful and that she hoped I would DIE… (dramatic delivery)
Her: We’re all going to die dear, it’s just a question of when.

Her: (at ten-thirty in the evening when your boyfriend is still sitting with you in the front room) – This department is now closing down.

Me: Mother, why have you got a half-pint glass of Dry Martini?
Her: Well, I’m going to drink this amount anyway, it just saves going back to fill the glass up too many times.

Me: What’s for pudding?
Her: If we had some cream we could have strawberries and cream if we had some strawberries. (I asked her about this quote and she said it came from an advert for cream – but I can’t find it anywhere)

Her: When you move house – at the very first opportunity you should make up the bed. Because at the end of the day, you’ll be exhausted and the last thing you’ll want to do is hunt for sheets and blankets and make your bed. You’ll just want to get in it!
(This was one of her better pieces of advice and I’ve always stuck to it on my many moves.)

Me: What should I buy X&X for a wedding present, there’s no list?
Her: Glasses or towels. You can never have too many glasses or towels.

Her: You’ll eat a pound of dirt before you die.
(The Man has told me this is not correct; it should be a peck of dirt. But these are my mum’s quotes so I’m not going to change it!)

Me: Mum, what’s VD? (I think I was about 14 at the time)
Her: It’s something you get when you have sex with a person you’re not married to.

Her: The car’s not running very well, it always knows when someone else has been driving it. (She always said this after I had borrowed the car. It was so annoying) 

Her: Don’t pass on the stairs or you’ll have ginger twins… I did have a son with ginger hair and then later I had twins, so maybe there’s something in that one!

My mother always gave me the impression that my brother could do no wrong. She would praise him constantly and say how wonderful he was, ‘Tony’s sent me lovely flowers for my birthday, can you take a photograph of me with them please?’ Never mind that I had driven 90 miles to give her a present. ‘Tony’s taking me to Australia. Tony’s doing this, Tony’s doing that bla bla bla….etc., etc. Anyway, I mentioned this to my brother not that long ago and he said that whenever she was with him she went on and on about how wonderful my sister and I were…I still think he was her favourite though.

My mother loved playing Scrabble and watching the TV as long as it was BBC2. She would not watch any other channel…there may have been some exceptions but I don’t know what they were. She sang with a local group and enjoyed amateur dramatics in Weston Super Mare.  She once had a part where she had to walk on with a basket of pears that she’d picked from the garden but unfortunately the props person had not left the pears where they should have been so she had to go on without them. My mother’s ad-lib was hilarious.  It went something like this:

‘If I had some pears, I would offer you some pears, but I don’t have any pears. Perhaps I should go out into the garden and see if I can find some pears?’ If my memory is correct she went on and off a couple of times repeating more or less the same lines. I think the pears must have been important to the plot! We never let her live it down, with cries for years afterwards of, ‘have you found those pears yet?…Any pears anywhere mother?…where’s that basket with the pears in mum?’ We drove her mad.

 

pears copy

 

I find myself saying some of the things my mother said to my children and grandchildren, ‘don’t put new shoes on the table; it’ll all come out in the wash; handsome is as handsome does.’ She also used to throw salt over her shoulder when she spilt it and so do I. The trouble is I can’t remember which hand you’re supposed to use and over which shoulder you should chuck it and why you should do it… anyone out there know?

Note Number 35…The Bunny Birthday Cake…

cakeathome

The Bunny Cake in Dorset before Transportation and a Few Final Additions..

The Bunny Birthday Cake

I said I’d make the birthday cake, how foolhardy am I?
‘A number one or a bunny?’ I had to give it a try.
I chose the bunny and forged ahead, feeling quite inspired…
Number one, would’ve been, a piece of cake…’scuse the pun, I’m tired.

Four sponges I made altogether, two chocolate, and two quite plain
The sizes seemed to be slightly off, though the baking tins were the same
I cut them down and shaped them, being careful as I went
And fixed them together with icing and jam, hoping that would act as cement

It sat in the fridge ‘til morning, when the next phase could begin
I needed a layer of icing, should it be think or should it be thin?
The shop bought fondant was perfect, it was quite therapeutic to play
Rolling and shaping, cutting and making – the highlight of my day

I wanted to make some carrots for the dear little bunny to nibble
But no orange colouring could be found…not even a tiny dribble
I mixed the pink and yellow, but that was awfully pale
Perhaps this bunny could be eating a healthy piece of kale

The bunny’s hind feet didn’t look right – fat and rather heavy
They could belong to a monster, or a mini sized, white-haired yeti…
An attempt to shape the lop ears, was an impossible task I found
Except for his tail, I should have put, the whole bunny, right under the ground!

In the end the cake was presentable, you could say a bit of a winner
The one-year old really loved it – and the four-year-old ate it for dinner
From the front he looked delightful, with two orange carrots to boot
From behind, he was giving two fingers up…so perhaps not quite so cute!

Ninette Hartley July 2017 ©

In the Making 

 

They did love it honestly

They did love it honestly… 🙂 (Note the orange carrots) 

from behind2

The Bunny Didn’t Care Either Way!  ha ha ha

Note Number 33…When The Man’s Away…

It’s been a busy few weeks and I’ve not had time to write much (not on my blog anyway). Poor excuse I know but The Man rode his bicycle for a week in the Alsace (Vosges)  and then instead of coming home on the 25th June he took the opportunity to cycle four epic climbs in The Alps and the Pyrenees. I am so proud of him!

Check out the Slide Show!

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I made the most of his absence by tidying up the garden and painting the garden furniture. It all looks fabulous. Paint used was Ronseal Garden paint and I can highly recommend it. We had some great weather in June…no complaints from me.

painted garden stuff

Newly Painted Garden Furniture

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Splendid Work on the Herbaceous Border 

Other things I did while The Man was away.

  1. I attended my third Black Venn Poetry workshop in Lyme Regis. I find these highly stimulating and never fail to produce a piece of work of which to be proud. I’ve even entered one for a competition, I’ll let you know how it goes.
  2. I entered a 2700 word short story for a competition run by the Literary Trust…It had to be a modern version of a fairy story. I chose Little Red Riding Hood, (I’m sure a few others will have done the same). I will let you know what happens, if anything, later in the year. I was pleased with it but don’t hold out too much hope as there will be plenty of brilliant entries I’m sure.
  3. I went to Bristol and to Weston Super Mare for my grand daughter’s first playgroup outing. It was…err…memorable. The day before it had been 30 degrees but the day of the outing, the rain clouds came in and the temperature dropped over 10 degrees the wind got up…

    So the sand ended up in everything, not just our sandwiches but in our hair and underwear. (think there’s a poem there somewhere). The baby ate the sand and the four-year-old got it in her eyes. But she still managed a donkey ride and an ice-cream before we beat a hasty retreat back to Bristol for a cup of tea and a piece of cake!

  4. I deep cleaned the kitchen and the bathroom in our cottage.
  5. I watched Poldark on Sunday evening.
  6. I have started doing Driving for the Disabled with the Forde Abbey Driving Group. Driving is a branch of Riding for the Disabled but we have ponies pulling carriages which are able to take wheelchairs if necessary.
    DRIVING

    Driving through the Arboretum at Forde Abbey

    I joined the group at the end of last year and so far, for many reasons, I have missed several sessions but I’m back on track now. It’s something I did for years when I lived in Devon and had my own pony, Ginger. Lovely he was. I don’t feel the need to get another pony but I am enjoying other people’s. I have to be re-assessed as a Coach Driver – more form filling and courses to attend. More learning and stuff to remember, for my poor brain to cope with. Hoping it won’t take long.

  7. I went to the ballet in Bridport and saw  Ballet Central. It was an excellent performance of several short pieces. The company is made up from students in their final year. By the look of things some of them will go far. Thoroughly enjoyable afternoon. How they managed to adapt to the small stage,without loss of performance, was quite remarkable. Well done all! 
  8. I read a few books, some better than others, but I enjoyed them all. The last one was My Animals and other Family by Clare Balding. I loved it, a beautifully written memoir of her childhood up to her twentieth year when she went to Cambridge University. I don’t know much about horse racing but I do love horses and dogs and that is the basis of her book. It’s written honestly and openly.

I think that’s most of the important stuff covered. Oh I did fall over and graze arm and knee pretty badly and when there’s no-one at home and even the neighbours are away you just have to get on with it don’t you?

It got worse before it got better but thankfully nothing broken…Oh wait a minute, I broke my tooth the following day. That’s three things then…no more to come, hopefully. 

Note Number 19…Valentine’s Day…

many-hearts

So Many Hearts in the World…

I’m sure that millions of couples are celebrating their love today and that’s all fine, but, spare a thought for those who are alone either because they’ve lost the person closest to them for any number of reasons… or there isn’t anyone special right now. The Man and I don’t celebrate St. Valentine’s day because we think it’s all commercial garbage and we reaffirm our feelings all through the year, not just on February 14th. That’s how it should be, we think. I didn’t know the origins of Valentine’s Day so I ‘googled’ and found this and this and a whole lot more but it’s all a bit confused and quite unromantic to say the least. Take a look for yourselves.

Enjoy your day and maybe knock on the neighbours door if they’re alone and need a cheery greeting…but don’t buy your red roses until tomorrow….when they’ll be at least half the price!

Let’s send our love to those on their own
And blow them a kiss and a light.
To shine like a pearl and give strength
In their hearts all through today and tonight

Let’s send good feelings to those who are lost
And give them our friendship to share
Take more than a minute today, to be sure,
That those less fortunate than you, know you care

hearts2-copy

Sending all the above via balloon…

Note Number 18…Facebook Status Asks…’What’s on Your Mind?’..

 

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I’ll tell you what’s on my mind. My children and my grandchildren. I’m worried about their future. I know that history tells us there has always been something for us to worry about, but we NEVER learn from history. I now have some idea of what it must have been like for my parents and grandparents when WW1 and WW2 were looming. I am genuinely afraid that something awful is going to happen within the next five years.

I don’t know what I can do about today’s situation re Brexit and Trump. I’m worried about both of these things and worrying about it doesn’t help the situation. I haven’t marched on any demonstrations and I haven’t shared many political opinion posts on FB. I’m a bit rubbish at standing up for what I believe in I suppose, but I think more than 75% of us are probably the same. I feel threatened by what’s happening but have a cowardly approach towards doing anything constructive about it. I think it’s my age but then I see plenty of people older than me marching and ranting. I am, in short, a wimp. I dread turning on my iPad in the morning to read the news. Who is hating who? What has Trump done now? What’s Putin up to? How many men, women and children have died during my night?…and I am appalled at what I see…Climate Change…there’s another problem. The world is in a tempestuous state and I don’t like it.

I know that the media has become good at selling us dubious news, but Donald Trump IS A FACT and the stuff he’s churning out is terrifying. I have been lucky. Born in 1950 I have had the best of peacetime in the 20th and 21st centuries (so far), in the United Kingdom. I do know that while there has been no, ‘war’ going on here, on our soil, we have been involved in them overseas. I am ignorant of the facts however. I am also ignorant about the real issues behind Brexit. I voted to REMAIN…because I want a united Europe and I believe that the EU was the best way to keep Europe united. I know that the EU has many problems but I think we should have stayed in and sorted them from within. I think that LEAVING…is going to cost us a great deal both economically and socially. I don’t profess to have a political understanding about any of this, but then do many of us? Probably not…but we still voted.

I have a naïve attitude, I want all the people in the world to love each other and to live in peace together. Isn’t that what every normal person wants? But of course, this can never be because there is always, GREED, POWER and RELIGION…In my humble opinion these, three little words cause all the problems. I don’t think I’m greedy, I don’t want power over anybody or anything, and although I don’t have a particular religion that I believe in I’m quite happy for anyone to follow one of their own choosing. Why can’t all mankind think like this?