Friday, November 10, 2006

Debra and family arrive - for Big Day

I shall no doubt return later in the day with more to say but, as usual, it seems to be better to open the blog quite early and secure at least one picture.

This letter, in today's Telegraph, supports my Global-Warming-Denial position. Some will dismiss it as 'a romantic poet playing fast and loose with the facts' but to me at least, it has a hefty dollop of 'ring of truth' about it.

I am using ‘Blogger for Word’ for the first time. In theory it allows one to compose some Blog ‘post’ while offline, save it as a draft and then subsequently publish it to the Blog when online again. My reason for doing this now rather than wait until I get home is that I have some time to kill.

We came over to Tracy’s around 3.45pm as Y has an appointment to have her nails done at TJ’s Chinese establishment. She went in the garden this morning, cutting back, and she won’t want to do that with new nails. The state of the rear garden quite upset her and she has rung Alex to come and clear away lots of rubbish. Although the absence of the caravan has left a large space, it looks very untidy and the trees, fence and hedge need attention. Debra is expected to arrive around 4pm. Therefore I have been left in charge, with a list of TBD for food, where the Lager is etc., Quite home from home – but everybody knows I love kitchen-duty so it’s no imposition. It will be lovely to see them all and I and thank Ruby for the super framed picture she did for my birthday.

A slight problem with this programme is that I haven’t discovered how to insert pictures, if indeed it is possible. If not, it isn’t really a serious setback to pop in a picture later in the day. Another slight annoyance is it’s habit of underlining sentences with a wobbly green line where it disagrees with my grammar. Damned impertinence I call it! It puts red lines under words which it doesn’t understand – like Blog – where it suggest blob, blow, bow, or bob. If, in 2003, Microsoft had never heard of Blogs, that seems to be their problem not mine. There must be a way of switching off this facility. Just a matter of finding it.

Anyway. Here are 'the nails'. And they do look rather good. Like the white-water thing Y has fancied 'false nails' for ages and Tracy discovered this chinese-place where they do them. Only the boss speaks English but Y reports excellent care and apparently it is quite a complicated procedure. By the time they arrived back Debra and family had arrived and Andy cooked a meal which Tracy had planned and catered for. Like me he loves his cooking, finding it a relaxation and fun. He did toad-in-the-hole with roast potatoes, green beans and peas and some lovely onion gravy. Ruby and Elli were great and I was on story-reading duty which I like doing. I try to do all the appropriate voices and they always seem to go-down well.

We left quite early, maybe 8pm-ish and arrived home in plenty of time to watch Simon Scharma on the subject of David's 'Death of Marat' in particular and The French Revolution' in general. To be fair, he did it very well. He has been getting a lot of criticism (most of it well-placed) for this series. The incessant and intrusive background music, for instance, gets up my nose.

When we got home there was a very welcome message on the answerphone from Debra to say that they had succeeded in making the Kodak camera start breathing. It was my present to her and when we left it resolutely refused to start. No doubt I shall hear all about it tomorrow.

I note from the 'comments' that Jill had seen the Telegraph letter and I'm pleased that she also, has grave doubts about Global Warming.

The big birthday meal at the Lakeside Restaurant tomorrow. So byeee for now........


2 comments:

Anonymous said...

I was going to direct you to this bit in the DT - I am in full agreement with you, the climate has always had glitches in it since the dawn of time. And it wasn't that long ago we were being warned about an Ice Age just round the corner....Experts? Bah, humbug.

Anonymous said...

Did Marvell possibly have access to a walled garden such as the one at Wollaton. Its 23” walls are (were?) a series of flues distributing heat from fires at the base and peaches, etc, would have grown and fruited well against them. And perhaps Andy, who was, as you note, a poet not a gardener, mistook pumpkins for melons? All right, so grapes need a greenhouse, but Marvell may have used his Poetic Licence (One penny three farthings per annum from the post Office, in his day) .
You and I, and Jill, will never find out whether Global Warming is a genuine threat anyway, of course (thank god there is no afterlife). We can bask in the sun and leave duly elected representatives to lead our descendants to perish in an arid wasteland (unless they can evolve to drink acid and breathe CO).
Most people don’t care much anyway. All they want is an allover tan. So let us enjoy ‘The Remains of the Day’, apart from which, two other fictional images assert themselves: Slim Pickens riding the bomb at the end of ‘Dr Strangelove’ and Eric Idle leading a cross chorus in ‘Always Look on the Bright Side of Life’.
I am all for scepticism and, of course, you could be right. But on balance I favour the scientific approach (probably more so having read ‘How Mumbo-Jumbo Conquered the World’) and, given a choice between ‘the experts’ and the ‘ostriches’ I am more inclined to go with the ‘experts’. What would have been the outcome if we had all ignored the threat of the Millenium Bug, for instance? Apart from that, cutting down drastically on 'emissions' is bound to do more good than harm, surely? I wonder what David Icke thinks?
Anyway, what's all this nonsencse about people drinking more than we used to?

Blogger for Word sounds rather similar to what I have been doing for 'emails' and 'comments' for some time? But perhaps I am missing something?

Gardens are pretty miserable places at this time of year and best avoided; except for the Marvellous delight of apples dropping on ones head. I made a Bramley crumble the other day with a Nigel Slater topping recipe (organic white breadcrumbs, demerara and melted butter to which I added a generous sprinkling of ground almonds). Lovely. I shall repeat it today, double quantity. I have to eat it all myself because of Sandra’s dietary limitations, speaking of which:
having been on a non-dairy, non-wheat diet for a couple of months, which has led to a considerable lessening of her eye problem, she was advised to give organic wholemeal bread a try (she is something of a breadaholic) . This was OK so she then tried organic WHITE bread, to which she reacted. But, apart from easing the irritation to her eyelids, since going non-dairy she has been able to virtually completely come off the pain killers which she has needed daily since her back problems started over thirty years ago. Placebo effect? Who knows? But if it works …

Word always tries to correct grammatical mistakes with the green line, and spellings with a red one. It is American, of course, so it doesn’t like, for instance, ‘colour’ with a ‘u’, and objects to the use of 'which’ as an alternative for ‘that’. But you get used to it, and it does, sometimes, usefully draw attention to a genuine error. I’ll bet it doesn’t like ‘abit’. (No, it doesn’t, but nor do I and I am not American!)

The nails look lovely.
I had a haircut on Thursday and, like you, I had sausage for lunch today (pretending it is still Friday).
I had shopped at Aldi and Morrisons while Sandra visited her Alternative Guru and I met her again in the Newark Wetherspoons. Great! Just like a real town pub should be; reminiscent of Yates’s Wine Lodge in the 1950s (or Newcastle Railway Station Bar), being 5.00 o’clock full of Friday drunk builders. Marvellous. S was rather less impressed, having been waiting there for 40 min, her mobile on the blink, carefully avoiding eye contact, not from any sort of fear but because she is the world champion at attracting oddballs and lame ducks, often drunk, usually speaking a foreign language.
At the bar, food ordered, I studied what beers available before making my selection:
“’Urray up, Gerronwi it. Grrr. Alltheeeesother wait’n fer drink.” was the pained, slightly belligerent, demand which came from beside me. I carried out a discreet 360 degree eye-scan. Only two of us and the barmaid were within 10 ft of the bar.
“What others?” I asked, politely.
“Friday jussagorrapay ‘n’ carn gerra drink. Wherra you fro’?”
“I live in Ollerton now. Where are you from?”.
“Berraber.”
“Where?”
“Benewarrer. New’k.”
“Oh Newark. I’m from Mansfield originally.”
“Wayawanna moverra Ollerton for then?”
“Oh, things happen. There’s your drink, look.”
”Oo-oooh. Anyway, a’love ya. Ahdo, Ah love ya. Ah love everbodda.”
“That’s how it should be.”

I have made a note to watch Scharma on Marat when it is repeated. Meanwhile, I contented myself with ’Have I Got News for You’ and ‘QI’ (which was hilarious, with, of course, Stephen Fry and Alan Davies, Dara O’Briain, Jo Brand and, especially, Julian Clary).