BOYZ,BOYZ,BOYZ?

Call me an old fashioned girl if you like but for me a man with no body hair seems just a little effete' Of course you can have too much of a good thing, one of the male lecturer’s at Art School had so much body hair that when he took a bath the hair on his back parted, the sort of parting you usually find on the head. This guy was scary, when he climbed out of a swimming pool he looked like a wet Black Labrador dog!

Enough of this frippery, it is the hairless males who really draw my ire. Earlier this week while leaving the supermarket two young men were walking ahead of me, they were wearing shorts and |I noticed that their legs were as fake tanned and hairless as a girlie model's.....yuk! Not only that,there arms too were hairless.....double yuk!!

Today while waiting in a queue I was obliged to listen to a conversation between three young chaps who were discussing the various methods of hair removal they had tried. One was in favour of waxing,another preferred creams and the third shaved daily. The waxer remarked that the only problem he had was the fact that between waxings he had to let his hair grow and said he was thinking about buying an epilator.

They then engaged in a spirited discussion of the waxing of other parts of their male anatomy,back,sack and crack? Even as a female the idea of someone having wax strips ripped from their testicles makes my blood run cold,and here is the question,why the hell do they do it?

Do they suppose it makes them more attractive to women?

It is my belief that it is the advent of the Boy Band which is responsible for the phenomenon, after all young teenage boys have very little hair anywhere!

Back to the queue. The three hairless males decided to by an epilator between them as they are, apparently rather expensive. One said he had seen an example of the device advertised on television. They paid for their purchases and left the shop now discussing a forthcoming holiday for which they meat to have the full treatment.

We live in a mad ,mad world. Women risk dreadful side effect having boob jobs ,face lifts and, for Gods sake Vaginaplasty! I have even heard of women having their virginity recreated by surgery. All of this is bad enough but now men are becoming as vain as peacocks and I find it faintly ridiculous.

Of course a man should take care of himself,I am not of the school of women who like their men folk to smell as it the have just finished a ten week cattle drive ,but, I draw the line at leg shaving,I really do!

There is nothing wrong with body hair on a man, it is natural and ,I think rather sexy,a man with no body hair looks as revolting as one of those hairless moles. Yuk, yuk,yuk!

Once ,while staying in theatrical digs owned by a gay couple I became great friends with one of the guys. I had just purchased a new and very slinky dress and when he saw it he was in raptures and asked to borrow it in exchange for, “A lend of me Carmen rollers.” It was an offer I could n't refuse and so he pounced happily on the frock and left to get ready for a party.

Later I watched him come down the stairs like a Ziegfeld Girl and one thing was certain,he looked better in the dress than I did!

Damn a man who shaves his legs, and damn a man who looks better in my clothes than I do!

HOMECOMING

When Pa and I sat down to breakfast this morning we we were  happily

discussing the plans for my sons return from his holiday,no sooner had the first pancake begun to sizzle on the griddle when the carpenter turned up to replace the incorrect backing used as a finish on the new work tops. We had been expecting him on Monday so as you can imagine I was less than pleased.

Having been told that wooden beading would be replaced all round you may also imagine that I was distinctly dis cuffed to learn that the workman’s intention was to merely remove the wood and fix it on again with a different glue! I showed him the black areas in the grain and around the nails and told him that if after only a week the wood was in such a condition it was obviously not the correct material for the task.

It transpired that they had purchased a different material to replace the wood but had, again bought the wrong item. Now I became cross and told him that I had no intention of putting up with a shoddy job for the purpose of saving the Facilities Managers face. He argued for a moment and then I told him that the items he needed were readily available at out local hardware store,in fact the were available in any hardware store,after all people are fitting kitchens every day. He went and purchased the right stuff in short order and fitted it at once..

I barely had time to clear the kitchen before my son returned to a rapturous welcome from Moth who then decided to have a long sulk. We went down to dinner and heard all the travellers tales.

It's good to have by boy home again,very good indeed.

CALLING TIME

Well folks,I actually managed to get some sleep last night, I lay on my bed,I slept like a log and awoke to a catastrophe, My sons little cat Moth,who has been like a lost soul since he left for his holiday, decided to attract my attention by emptying the contents of her cat litter tray all over the bathroom floor ;and then taking a pea next to a wicker laundry basket with devastating consequences!

At three in the morning I did the best I could to clear up the mess and returned exhausted to my neglected bed,a couple of hours later the shortcomings of my bleary eyed efforts was more than noticeable,not so mush a hum as a raucous chorus! Groaning heavily I went in search of mop and bucket,the day had begun.

Several hours later and the bathroom no longer smelled like a cat shelter,I decided to scrub out the whole place while I was about it and by the time I had finished it looked immaculate,I looked dishevelled and Pa assured me that he was starving. I cleaned myself up and cooked the poor old soul a cheese and tomato omelette then hared off to the supermarket for the fish I needed for dinner.

I had intended on my return to strim the orchard, this was not to be. Pa had spent the morning chasing the appointments department at Kingston Hospital who have now managed to mess up his appointment a total of three times. They trumpet their eighteen week window between the first consultation to the operation,we are now ten weeks in and so far Pa has not been near the place!

This next bit makes me angry,they actually suggested that they should get Pa to visit his GP again and start the referral from scratch,thus giving the hospital a further eighteen weeks,it's scandalous.

They had promised to call him back and he had given them two numbers, the land line and one of his two mobile phones, the one with a flat battery to be precise. He had to go out,so I was obliged to remain indoors.........I was not amused!

Needless to say the perishers did not call while he was out,in fact they did not call,full stop!

It's quite bad enough that these twerps have been messing pa about, messing with me I shall not countenance. Pa,bless him is a push over for unscrupulous types like these and they take advantage of his good nature.

I am not! I shall be dealing with the appointments moron hence forth,enough said!

WHERE IS THE SANDMAN WHEN I WANT HIM?

Remember when you were a child,the strange sensation of having sand in your eyes when you became especially if you were trying desperately to pretend you were not. When the happened to me my mother would tell me that it was the Sand man, come to help me fall asleep. I never craved his presence then but now I would give much for a visit from the gentleman as I have not slept for more than a few minutes at a time for ages it seems.

I finally gave up this morning at three thirty ,made some coffee and had an early breakfast of fresh fruit while the rest of the village slept on. My little cat was delighted with this turn of events and took the opportunity to illicit from me a long session of fur stroking followed by an early bowl of milk,I was glad of the company.

During today I have been very tired,sleepy even and yes, my eyes felt as if they were full of grit; it would appear that the Sandman needs to get his watch fixed! I had planned to strim the orchard this afternoon but lacked the energy to do so and I was glad when a visit from and old friend gave me the excuse to abandon my gardening plans in favour of serving tea and short bread to our guest.

During tea the man came to finish to job on our drains and very welcome he was,now instead of what was virtually an open sewer outside my kitchen window we have a neat grid with a trap to prevent smells and a cover to stop leaves from falling in and causing a blockage. I confess to a small glow of triumph over this as it has taken me over twelve years to convince the Estate manager that it was and open sewer,not just an ordinary drain. One up to me......at last.

For dinner tonight I prepared a favourite dish of Pa's, broad beans served with crispy bacon and parsley sauce. This is another meal which my son dislikes and so we are making the most of his absence to eat all the things we like. Tomorrow I shall buy some fresh trout for dinner,this with some new potatoes,beans from the garden and a horseradish and lemon cream sauce will be our last treat before my son returns. He has requested Cumberland sausage rings with mashed potato, carrots and onion sauce,I shall of course oblige.

Now I face another sleepless night and have decided not to go to bed, instead I shall set up my camera for night shots and wait for the owls , badgers, hedgehogs and other night creatures to visit our orchard. O one of my windows opens on to the orchard and has a window seat which will be perfect for me. I shall make a flask of hot chocolate, grab a few cookies and then the cat and I will wait upon events.

Meanwhile ,if you should encounter the Sandman please remind him that he has not visited Avies small and sleepless world for far too long!”

MOTH IN MOURNING

Ever since he departed for a holiday yesterday morning my sons little calico cat Moth has not ceased to grieve. She spent yesterday gazing out of the window with big,sad eyes,and when by night fall he had not returned she became desperately unhappy.

I tried everything and eventually she did eat a pouch of horribly expensive cat food,I could have purchased a black truffle for the price of a box of the stuff !

During the night she went in to my sons room and rummaged about so much that the place looked this morning as if a jealous girlfriend has trashed the place. Clothes on the floor,soon rather tattered,books scattered about and all manner of small items tossed about.

I tided up and by the time I had finished Moth was asleep on my armchair looking as if “butter wouldn't melt”. She is behaving as if she were in mourning and is inconsolable. Years ago we had a lovely old Collie dog and when he was about ten we were given a tiny Labrador German Shepherd cross bitch.

Her mother had been run over and as the pup was less than a month old I had to bottle feed the little mite,but it was the old Collie who really save her life for he took the little mite to his own basket and kept her warm and clean,and as she grew up he would play fight with her ever so gently. It will come as no surprise when I tell you that they became inseparable friends, they truly adored each other,it was a lovely thing to see them together.

When the dear old Collie died a few days shy of his twentieth birthday, his companion Rosie refused food, and lay silent on the hearth rug,only going out of doors when absolutely necessary.

She died very soon after,I am sure her heart was broken,and so was mine.

Animals have feelings, and anyone who says the contrary is a fool! Thank the Gods my son will be home on Friday,for if anything should go amiss with his beloved cat I would hate to be the one to break the news.

ON THE ROAD AGAIN

At the crack of dawn this morning my son set of on a well deserved break to The Dark Peak in Derbyshire,a splendid place to be in hot weather as there is always a good breeze. From the top of Mam Tor hang gliders daily launch in to the abyss,amazingly most of them land safely,it fun to watch but you need to keep your wits about you if the wind changes direction.

Some years ago, I flew a kite off the top of the tor in a gale, the wind was so strong that I could barely stand . I let out the line as far as it would go and goodness me have the kite string screamed in the wind,as I held on to the string firmly and held on to a fence post just as firmly with the other hand, I must have been stark raving mad!

If you listened to my mother she would tell you that this incident was typical , I once almost scared her out of her wits when she found me walking a home made tight rope over a deep grain pit, empty except for a massive harrow with fearsome teeth which has been stretched out below. Even I get the shakes when I think about it now.

I doubt if my son will engage in any such dangerous practices,having said that almost everything one does on the high peak is potentially dangerous. Summer and winter alike the rescue teams are out dealing with people who have become trapped in potholes,stranded on a high cliff or who are just plain lost. Even in summer time a thick fog can descend in moments, in such circumstances sat-nav is useless and the best thing to do is sit tight.

On on of the highest peaks above Castleton there is a small cairn dedicated to the memory of a local child who became lost in a blizzard while tending sheep;to this day the spot is called “Lost Lad” and wears an air of sadness.

A few months before we left the area and moved south we had a terrible winter,snow fell day after day and the wind blew the fine power in to huge drifts. In the small town of Cheadle in the Staffordshire Moorlands a postman fell in to on of these drifts while on his rounds and died of hypothermia, it was some days before his body was discovered.

Up on the high peaks the winters are always severe,travelling can be impossible for weeks at a time and telephone and electricity are usually out of action at such times. As a child I became used to candle light, cold water baths and cooking on a n open fire,actually I loved it,except for bed time when, with the candle blown out for safety my room was as dark as The Peak Cavern and during the night my warm breath would freeze on the blanket.

When the weather became really bad my mother would move us children down stairs where .in her company we slept before the fire on and assortment of sofas and an old sofa bed. She told us stories and we had lovely suppers,like herrings on toast cook on the fire by my father who was in has element at such times. It was an adventure , with the added bonus of no school and we revelled in the snow and ice.

In 1963 the boy from The Hall taught me to ski and I was able to get to the village three and a half miles away across the endless drifts. We built an igloo and of course lots of snowmen,it was a wonderful place to be a child.

My son, now a grown man will I suspect spend much of his time walking, reading and caving,having written three full length novels in as many months I hope he finds time to rest and relax too. He returns on Friday and begins another book the following Mondays.

I am so grateful for his success, he had become desperately unhappy in his former employment ,now he smiles and laughs all the time. He is a young man who has always made his own chances and can be justly proud of his achievements as an author. Yet for me all my pride in him is for the man he has become. He was beautiful baby and a dear little by yet I love the man he now is so much more than I could ever have imagined. For this and for his happiness I thank the Gods.

Busy Day!

Had a very busy day today, celebrating the belated birthday of a friend; as a result, Avie has retreated to bed after we cleaned up the aftermath...so normal service resumed tomorrow...

WELCOME RAIN

Hot sunshine is everyone’s wish in summertime, particularly in the school holidays when children ,pent up indoors must otherwise be entertained. I am as partial to sunshine as anyone .but must admit that I have found the recent excessive heat rather draining.

Raised in the High Peak I am more used to cooler air and anything from a gentle breeze to a force eight storm;only once,back in 1976 do I remember such heat affecting the moorlands which were then my home.

Today's rain is ,to me, very welcome,even though it has made for a sticky heat uncomfortable during the day and unbearable at night. It is welcome because the fruit trees are in sore need of a good drink!

In the orchard here the Bramley apples are almost ready to pick ,incidentally you can tell this when the fruit comes away easily from the tree when you twist the apple stalk slightly and pull.

The fruit although almost ready to pick is still quite likewise the blackberries are small and seedy instead of plump and juicy;damsons too are ripening fast but are still small.

Lack of rain is the cause and this is why I am glad for today’s rain. Our fruit trees,on a good year supply many people in the village with jams,chutneys and jellies and our friends with a variety of alcoholic beverages at Christmas and other special occasions.

Last year the apple crop failed and the damson crop was poor due to late frosts and weather too wet for bees to pollinate the blossom,this year,with luck we shall have plenty and to spare.

I had occasion to go into the village this afternoon and come home drenched but cooler,which was great, unfortunately whenever my hair becomes damp it curls and forms a kind of mop,a style hardly suitable for someone my age.

A more pleasant side effect of the rain has been the company of cats,our two of course and also a neighbours ginger Tom cat,Harry who has practically moved in with us. He recently spent two weeks in a cattery while his owners were on holiday,the identical moment he returned he made a bee line for our kitchen and has been a fixture ever since.

Today he slept on Pa's huge leather chair during the afternoon while Twiggy slept on the windowsill,they seem amicable and there was no sign of trouble even when he visited Moth upstairs. They touched noses,almost a kiss, and the Harry helped himself to moths dish of crunchies, a typical male, but oh,so lovable.

A roast beef dinner made a welcome change from salads and I cannot help thinking of all the lovely dishes I make in Autumn,the pheasant,rabbit and wood pigeon pies,and of course the wonderful Dutch apple cake,beloved of the whole family made with the fruit from our own tree.

Earlier this year we had feared the the tree would have been cut down by now to make way for the proposed new houses and we all rejoice that this was not so. I trust and hope that this lovely old tree will be spared indefinably for its delightful shade,its sweet spring blossom and of course the valuable fruit, finger crossed.

SHIVER ME TIMBERS

In the midst of chaos on all fronts my son's third book was submitted today and should be available within a few hours. For several days Amazon Publications has been in a state of complete disarray,due we are told to “a glitch”,which extremely technical term has been used for years to cover up the fact that no one knows exactly what is occurring!

Some say that Amazon has been hacked,others that it is due to the start up of Amazon Mexico. Whatever the reason it has inconvenience the authors mightily showing neither the correct sales figures nor the ratings,which statistics are the breath of life to those with books for sale.

Last night my sons sales figures began to reappear ,also his ratings ,but that is not the case for all on line authors. Further more there is no way of knowing if the “glitch” is now fixed? We shall see!

The new novel is the third in the “Starship Alamo” series and is entitled “Victory or Death”. T he beta readers ,to a man gave it rave reviews which is encouraging. The question is,will people be able to purchase it under the present circumstances?

Had not my son been going off on holiday on Monday I believe he would have delayed the launch,as things stand he wishes to have a clear field on his return to begin his new book.

This was to have been a medieval adventure but in the event he has decided that he needs to do more research and has chosen a swashbuckling pirate theme for his next work.

He has always been fascinated by buccaneers, the real ones mark you,it has taken much to persuade him to read “Treasure Island” . His book will I am sure be somewhat more visceral but every bit as exciting.

At home we have a birthday party to cater on Sunday and a friend texted this morning to say that he would be visiting us on Sunday.. typically everything is to happen at once. We are in the throws of packing for his holiday ,which means ironing,*** **!

Next week the men will come to dig up our sewer...what fun! With luck the problem with the water soluble sink sealant will also be solved before my son returns. I had hoped that these jobs would have been finished before he left, with the estates version of Laurel and Hardy doing the job I should have known better.

I begin to wish I had filmed the performance, it would ,I think have rivalled Eric Sykes famous film “The Plank”. My film would have also stared several prizewinning planks! Pity.

For some reason I cannot fathom most biting insects seem to be inordinately partial to my flesh. I can be sitting among a group of people at an out door evening event and be the only person to be bitten.

Over the years I have tried every known mozzie repellent to no avail,even the so called”Jungle Strength” ones seem to act more as a relish than a deterrent! I even tried drinking lots of G, and T and actually it did work up to a point,the point being that if I drank enough I did not mind the itchy little bumps made by the pesky little bugs!

Wonder of wonders,when my new mobile phone arrived it had an App which,it claimed made a noise which repelled the little blighter’s,I was sceptical,all the same I tried it....and it worked.

Night after night ,slept with all my bedroom windows open and not a single bite resulted from this rash behaviour. Day after day I took the phone with its sneaky device with me when I went in to the orchard,a place haunted by as vicious and nasty a breed of mozzy as ever I encountered and returned bite free.

Great was my rejoicing to have found ,at last the cure for all the misery of itchy bites in summer time,here was an end of all the sleepless nights and endless tubes of antihistamine cream.......until last night!

Last night like a fool I forgot to ensure that my mobile phone battery was fully charged and at some time during the night my wonder bug repellent ceased functioning. The result of this act of appalling stupidity is a large number of extremely large,vicious and horribly itchy bumps ,many in places best not discussed in polite society! It was as if the little devils had been camping outside the windows awaiting their chance.............and |I gave it to them!

Once again I have spent hours anointing the afflicted parts with bite cream. And can,I am certain look forward to a night with little sleep due to these horrid little bugs. This of course pays me out for becoming blasé about the matter,a mistake which a assure you I shall not make again.

I used to groan when people raved on about their Apps,I take it back,they can be wonderful,life changing even. For instance there is an amazing fart App and you can slyly make use of it in shop queues, packed lifts,at a crowded bar when you cannot get served......................................................

AVIE KICKS ASS!

Finally the corporation of numpties who run the estate upon which I,for my sins reside have decided that their asses are bruised enough and have agreed to finish the work on our kitchen to a proper standard.

Ever since the work was “finished “ on Friday there have been problems and today the Estate Manager called and did his level best to blame us for the problems ,here is a small example.

We have for a number of years been obliged to use an ancient gas hob,made up of bits and pieces,by the Estate, I hasten to add and not ourselves.

On the old hob the electric sparker to light the gas malfunctioned and was disconnected many years ago and instead of effecting a proper repair we were told to light it with matches!

The new hob has an electric sparker which was not connected up when the hob was installed last week. Today I am told by the Arch Numpty, that after all the years of not having a working sparker I should be used to using matches ,and what was I complaining about?

I shall not bore you with all the details ,suffice it to say that I held forth for some time about the shortcomings of the estate staff in general and the ARCH numpty in particular. My son,who is rather scary when angry,and even Pa also jumped upon the little worm and between us we scotched his little game!

The events of the past week have exhausted me,it seems that I am not the woman I was,but this I will say,I have never begun a fight with these silly so and so's but I promise I have,and always shall finish it.

And now,I hope that I can have what I crave e most,a little peace and quiet,to enjoy what is left of the summer , relax and take care of my boys,Please.

MAKE YOUR OWN BUTTER

Making a little butter is a lovely thing to do,especially when you can spread the result of your labours on hot scones or wholemeal toast.

As children we were roped in to the process as it can take a while but if everyone takes a turn the job is soon done and the result is worth the labour. You do not need any expensive equipment to make your own butter,it is easy to make in small quantities in a large clean jar.

You will need.

3 pints Jersey milk (NOT THE HOMOGENISED KIND or if will not work)

a large jar or air tight tin ( the later is not so much fun and you cannot see the butter turning)

pinch of salt

Pour the milk in to a large pottery bowl and leave to stand in a cool place over night.

Skim off the creamy top using the flattest spoon you have.

Pour the cream in to the jar,what is left is buttermilk and this can be drunk as it is,made into a pudding or used in bread making. Three pints should be enough for all three.

Holding the jar tip from side to side so that then cream sloshes about,continue until your arm is tired then give someone else a turn. After a while you will see that the cream is beginning to separate and lumps are forming.

I f your arm is really tired you can roll the jar backwards and forwards across a table or work top, My aunt rolled her jar on the floor with her feet while knitting!

When all the small lumps have formed a large solid mass,pour off the buttermilk and place the lump of new butter on a clean tea towel or several sheets of kitchen roll and pat gently to dry.

At this point the butter need to be kept cold. Using chilled table spoons or cold hands spare the butter unto firm oval shapes and place in the refrigerator at once and use as required. Salt may be added if you like at the shaping stage.

This can be a good means of occupying children on wet school holidays,they can help make to scones and the butter to. I have always found that children love the feeling of achieving something special. Do try it, it's worth the work.

A long day...

Today was nibbled to death by ducks. Tomorrow, one hopes, will be better...Avie has had to retreat to bed early, however. Normal service to resume tomorrow.

A SAD FAREWELL

This is a sad day for all at Avie's, an old friend is leaving the Estate,and today he came to say goodbye. One of our favourite breakfast guess and someone ,quite possibly the last one On the Estate staff who really cared about the people who lived and worked here.

Hounded by the same tyrannical, Estate Manager who has made our lives a misery and with a line manager who could give the Marquise de Sade lessons in cruelty he finally decided that enough was enough,and we are all the poorer for his departure.

Over the years he has helped me in my battles with the Estate Manager,without his help and encouragement I could not have been as successful and would probably have lost the will to fight.

His unfailing cheerfulness and good humour in the face of some appalling family tragedies as been an example to us all. We wish him well in his new home,we shall miss him.

The Facilities Manager,returned from his holiday today and was soon aware that he had returned to a veritable s**t storm, I hope with all my heart that the storm buries this unpleasant,malicious and down right malevolent man,leaving no trace! We can hope, although it seems that for all of us the storm clouds are gathering.

So now the Estate tenants battle on alone, we must close ranks and not seem to have been weakened by the departure of our champion. There are dirty doings afoot, all the houses in the land are owned by the Estate and last week they were all valued by an estate agent. One of our neighbours has already been given notice to quit,another close friend of long standing as it happens.

Something is definitely going on and we ,the tenants must meet the threat,whatever it is with courage and determination. great greif, I sound like Winston Churchill, still it is the truth and I for one will not be intimidated by these cut rate Rackmans.

In the words of Sherlock Holmes “ The game's afoot!”

BLACK BOTTOM BLUES.

I must admit that the last few days have seemed very strange,for almost three days I was unable to use my kitchen and I felt like a boat without an anchor.

My kitchen is my place of work and a great deal of my day is spent there,to find myself suddenly with less than half my normal work load left me rather at a loose end. I had intended to do some ironing,instead I crashed completely and spent most of Thursday in bed.

I slept a good deal but seemed to become more tired all the time,in the end it was well that I had little to do. Today,still weary I was back in my kitchen and able to have a proper look around at all that has been done,and cook a cottage pie for dinner,which we all enjoyed.

I hope that now we can return to normal...whatever that is as the past six months or so have been fun,but emotionally draining.

My son has settled into a writing routine and is happier than he has been for some time. Pa has several new specialists and ,we hope a good hospital where he can undergo his next three surgeries safely. He saw his G. P.yesterday and showed him the famous video of his badly bruised bum!

There are two versions of this, one silent version which is the one the Doctor was shown, the other has a commentary of a highly comic nature. You may be sure that this film will not find it's way on to U Tube!!!

We hope to get a special bed for Pa very soon ans a wheel chair also,It cannot come too soon as he falls down so often that he cannot keep on being lucky.

I have discovered a game called Angry Birds, crazy but compulsive,I an convinced that it is this which has kept me sane of late. My son introduced me to this time wasting exercise in the nick of time,I swear I was developing a twitch!!!

THE KITCHEN IS FINISHED

After much travail the work on the kitchen is is completed,everything has been put away,a lot of clutter has been thrown away and my bedroom is no longer doubling as a dining room cum storeroom.

The men have done an excellent job and it all looks splendid and although it took longer than it should have (in the end they did not cut the tops to size until late yesterday afternoon instead of on Wednesday as I had asked) I am more than pleased with all that has been done.

Throughout the past few days my son has been a rock, always cheerful and shouldering much of the responsibility for making sure things were done correctly. I cannot express my gratitude to him for his help and modest as he is he brushes aside all praise and refused to be thanked. He is a very fine young man and I am so very proud of him.

Yesterday I was unwell,stress dose strange things to me these days,today I am only very very tired,tomorrow I hope to be better.

I am waiting for the kitchen floor to dry and then shall cook dinner in our lovely new kitchen, and after that it will be early nights all round,and so to coin a phrase “That's all folks.”

Avie's Kitchen Nightmares!

Today the men turned up to do the kitchen; while they've done a pretty good job, the day has exhausted Avie and she has collapsed in her bed, leaving me to pen this short epistle. I'm certain there will be some interesting tales to tell tomorrow...

Son of Avie

ARTISANS ALL?

I have noticed of late that the word artisan is much abused. This word meant to describe a person of great skill in their chosen craft is used by all and sundry weather they be artisans or not.

Let us take for an example the “Artisan Baker”. This title might lead you to suppose that you would be able to purchase a superior product from any establishment employing such a paragon,not so.

Although there are some excellent bakers out there who clearly are artisans there are many others who are not. I have recently been on the receiving end of several of these so called artisan loaves any of which could have been used in a robbery to break a window. One of these horrors, a date and walnut loaf did smell very tempting,unfortunately I had not the strength to cut it . My strong son ventured to slice a couple of pieces and I have to inform you that neither of us could bite a piece off the slice,let alone chew it. Once toasted it became brittle and broke in to shards when hit with a mallet...hum!

Another ,even harder specimen I used to knock in a small nail to hang a picture having attempted to eat a slice of this rock hard menace  to the permanent detriment of my teeth! A third loaf has been out in the orchard for a fortnight,it is still rock hard and has been untouched by either bird nor beast.

This word , artisan,much fondled is being used as a disguise by many a second rate baker, dressmaker,in fact I have found that most people so described are any thing but!

The real trick is of course that by prefixing whatever old tat you are peddling with this word you are at liberty to hike up the price,so that a rock hard inedible loaf can cost as much as three pounds odd, it's ludicrous.

Some years ago the buzz word “Designer” had it's time in the lime light, designer clothes,designer furniture, designer just about every thing else;a totally meaningless use of the word since all these things would,in any case have been designed by some one or another.

We were,of course meant to believe that the clothes,furniture etc. were extra fashionable and that there was a certain éclat in wearing them. What rubbish,and yet millions believed it and bought in to the dream. They even wore their clothes with the labels on the outside so that folks might know that they were wearing a superior garment,that is in my opinion and to coin another buzz word extremely naff!

One night, a few years ago I was at a party, standing next to me was a girl in a black top identical to the one I was wearing. She turned to me and commented on the fact and I announced that I had eight of them all in different colours. She expressed surprise and said that she also would have bought the other colours if they had not been so expensive. She had paid twenty five pounds for a simple black camisole in cotton jersey, where as I had paid eight pounds for eight of the exact same top.

The difference,hers sported a “designer label, mine was purchased at Primark! How foolish.

And now a short poem.

His Lordship, while fixing the electric light

Blew himself up,and serve him right.

For it is the duty of the wealthy man,

To give employment to the Artisan.

Although these day the man who turns up to do the job will more than likely done a two week course some where and is qualified only on paper. End of rant!!

SIGNS AND OMENS

During the past few days the signs that herald the approach of Autumn,are everywhere,subtle yet but with every passing day it becomes more evident that \summer is almost over.

Dawn brings with it a ghostly mist which quickly disperses as the sun begins to rise and in to this misty landscape great skeins of Canada geese glide past my window to graze in the fields across the lane. Each evening they fly back across the lane to the river ,where they will spend the night relatively safe from hungry foxes.

During the summer months the geese pair of to breed and the great flights of these birds are seldom seen,the spectacle of one of these flock flying against a pink and gold sunset is one of the highlights of the year for me. Today I stood for a while by the field watching them graze, squabbling occasionally and honking at any intruder who dare to cross their path.

In the shelter belt the beech mast crunches under foot ans squirrels gleefully snap up these treats,cob nuts are ripening fast and it will be a miracle if I get to them before the squirrels. I have managed to collect a good amount of walnuts in the green,these will have their fleshy casing removed once it has softened a little;then they will be stored away not to appear again until Christmas.

Where the field grass has not been what remains is yellow, it's seed long shed and only the long bleached stalks sway in the breeze. Seed pods have replaced flowers now,except for a few tenacious patches of field geranium and mallow and of course late flowering yarrow.

No longer am I awakened by the sound of bird song at early dawn,the birds are moulting and disinclined to sing. Every where you look you will see a seedy looking Magpie, a speckled young robin or a blackbird partially bald and tugging disconsolately at a badly twisted wing feather. I am sure that moulting must be a miserable business.

Now the evenings have begun to draw in and our orchard is the playground of our fox family,the cubs are now well grown and much play fighting and snarling goes on after dark, and in the tree beside my bedroom window the little owl has returned to screech a keep out warning to others of her kind.

I love the summer but I am not sorry to see it give way to gentle early autumn when hopefully the heat,if it returns will be more moderate and the lane will be filled with the spicy fragrance of decaying leaves.

This morning I revelled in the cool air which came through the open windows in my room , the feel of it's gentle caress on my skin in my waking moments was pure pleasure.

I celebrated by cooking Chicken In the Pot for dinner served with newly ripened sweet corn, a favourite Autumn dish.

Looking now across the orchard I can see that the damsons will soon be ready to pick for jam .chutney and of course damson gin. The old apple tree is loaded with fruit and the parakeets are taking liberties with this bounty,still there will be enough for all,there always is.

A VOYAGE OF DISCOVERY

Today I began the task of emptying the kitchen cupboards in preparation for the fitting of the new work surfaces. My fitted kitchen cabinets are the usual sort,full of places that I cannot reach,out of the way areas in which all the things I seldom use are stored as it takes half a morning to get to the back of the cabinet who's contents fill the large kitchen table.

During the course of the morning a number of long standing mysteries were solved and an equal number uncovered as the long undisturbed contents of a dark corner cupboard were brought in to the light. I asked my son “What can you see”. “Rubbish!” he said “Masses of rubbish!” And so the task of excavation began.

Out of the darkness and out of our families past came a number of dinner services, all incomplete having been subjected to the ravages of my sons early years. Some were wedding presents(these were at the very back of the cupboard) some so dreadful as to have never been used.

Some were our own choice sadly put away when spare pieces could not be purchased to replace the broken items. Others were state occasion China never used as we do not give the sort of dinner parties where such dishes would be used. Serving dishes ,chaffing dishes, platters casseroles,the accumulation of many years of housekeeping.

In a fit of ruthlessness I decided that it was long past the time I parted company with some of this dross. The rubbish bags filled up quickly ,an ancient pressure cooker, some prehistoric saucepans,old chopping boards,all the stuff that “might come in handy” and never does!

From time to tile there was delight in finding my sons Bunny-kins plate and tiny set of cutlery, a set of long lost crumpet rings and an antique bottle opener. By the time I stopped I had cleared two cupboards and filled three bags with a motley assortment of vintage tat.

The real rubbish will be put out with the recycle items, the rest will be displayed on what has become our annual “FREE STUFF” stall. Old books toys games items of clothing and dishes all get snapped up, We do this every year in August and we now have regular visitors which is rather nice.

When the kitchen has been renovated and the dust has settled I shall have more room to put my ever increasing number of gadgets, made necessary by my ever worsening arthritis. I hate clutter and so I have had to say farewell to some old friends to make room for the new.

I feel very virtuous and strangely liberated in parting with these things,they seemed almost to belong to another life, or to some one else. Their relevance to me long since gone ,it is good to know that they will benefit someone else.

There is an old saying “One ,man’s trash is another man’s treasure” this is absolutely true, and it’s the way I collected a great deal of those items no longer used but which once meat a great deal.

And so,to bed.

A BREAKFAST GUEST

This morning we had a friend of my son's to breakfast,I made Scotch pancakes with hot strawberry sauce and cream. We began to eat at eleven and finally left the table at two ,we were so busy telling jokes and swapping tall tales that we forgot the time.

The boys went to run a few errands and I cleared the kitchen before heading off to pick walnuts. The ones I put into brine last week for pickling turned out to be too old,the shells having begun to form. This week picked them for eating at Christmas time. Getting the flesh off the blessed things is a work of art and can be very messy as the nuts contain a dye which can stain the skin a very dark brown. The colour takes weeks to wear off and if it contacts a work surface bleach is the only thing that will shift it.

Our guest returned with my son ,he had brought us a huge container of iced cream which we ate with wine berries and lavender vodka..very decadent indeed and very nice. We could not persuade him to stay for dinner,so we parted at around five. For some reason we were all tired and our friend went off to have an early night.

For dinner I cooked a loin of pork in the halogen oven and served it with a big tray of roasted vegetables and some special bread which was a part of yesterdays baking.

Tired though we were we were also hungry and we all tucked in with a will, even so there is plenty of meat left for sandwiches later in the week and of course a small treat for each of our cats.

The coming week promises to be very busy as we the kitchen is(fingers crossed) to be refurbished this week. New worktops a sink and a new gas hob,I hope all goes well. The problem is that the job is being undertaken by the estate and a more inept bunch of Laurel and Hardies it would be difficult to imagine.

I am planning a birthday party for the young man who was our breakfast guest today,he is a member of the gaming group and it is a long standing tradition that the gamesters celebrate their birthdays with a feast in our kitchen. It is great fun to entertain such a wonderful group of people,and a very great pleasure to bake each one the birthday cake of his choice.

Having young people about the place keeps us oldies young at heart ,listening to their laughter and watching them, when they are relaxed and happy is a pleasure and well worth a birthday cake or two.

The sun has almost set and I am ready to sleep,cats,owls,foxes and the new karaoke night at the local permitting. Good night to you all,sleep well.

ALL IN A DAYS WORK

Morning ,wake up,make coffee,serve coffee,wake others.

Make bed,wake others again,feed cat,get dresses,wake Pa again.

Make breakfast,Pa wants something different. Pa not dressed yet,start breakfast without him.

Wash up clear kitchen,make bread. Wash up again clear kitchen again.

Leave loaves to cool,go in to the garden to pick fruit......tons of it. Get scratched to bits.

Prepare fruit for freezing. I hate blackcurrants.

Clean loo,steam bathroom floor, sort out the next load of laundry,load in to machine.

Go shopping...

.. unpack groceries,clean kitchen floor,prepare bread for freezing.

Water garden,weed kale patch,pick up windfalls,separate two fighting cats.

Bath scratches, prepare dinner, catch bird which has flown in to the kitchen.

Clear dishes,wash up,again, clean kitchen again,rummage about in freezer for tomorrows joint.

Feed cat,lance boil, take shower,make coffee, take pills,collapse in to chair.

In my free time,answered door four times,took two phone messages.

Looked for lost night dress(don't ask) found a dead mouse,two spiders and a weird beetle.

Called Mum, cleaned shoes,washed hair,wrote out next weeks shopping list.

Watched the news,listened to music wrote this blog. Now what!

AT MY AGE

I have already had a good old moan about Doctors receptionists this week,in fact I have done so much grouching about one thing and another that I seem to be rapidly becoming a grumpy old woman. Let us do what the medical profession always do when faced with a woman patient and put it down to my age.

It really is true that if you happen to be female ,and you happen to be at all under the weather,in a bad mood or perhaps feeling just a little pensive some wise acre will subscribe your condition to “your age”.. As a child I remember lying on the sofa,covered with a rug because I was a little unwell. My mother,grandmother and Aunt were talking in whispers and I heard my mother say, “Well,she's at that age!”.....What age, I wondered?

Later, in my early teens I became prone to a kind of moody lethargy which my Grandmother insisted was because “I was at a funny age!” Actually it turned out to be Glandular Fever and by the time anyone took it seriously I was extremely ill indeed. Even my G.P insisted that there was nothing physically wrong with me, so I asked him why, if all was well did I have huge bumps around my neck and under my arms. I was on my way to hospital before I had time to call my mother to let her know why I would not be home.

When at the great age of twenty nine I became pregnant with my son I was considered, quite old to be giving birth for the first time. There is a name for this which I cannot now recall. both the Doctor and the maternity nurse talked about me as if I was positively geriatric. Once again, my age was the problem.

When a woman enters her late forties the cry of “It's her age” or worse “She's at a funny age!” Is everyone’s answer to what ever ails the poor soul, from flue to fallen arches!

Now we come to the serious bit. By the time they reach their fifties most women are sick and tired of being dismissed by all and sundry in the above manner. At a time in her life when a woman needs to be a little careful about any odd or unusual symptoms she develops an aversion to the attitude she finds every where when she is unwell.

She ignores these niggling little symptoms until they become to intrusive to ignore and by the time they visit their Doctor it is often too late. A close friend is dying of bowel cancer and when her daughter asked her why ,if she knew there was some thing wrong she had said nothing about it,she replied that ….........she had supposed it was just her age ! It,s tragic.

I am now sixty years old, I have arthritis, high blood pressure kidney stones and I take anti depressants.....obviously I am in a good deal of pain most of the time, and guess what my G.P said when last I visited him..........can you guess? When I mentioned that my eye sight was getting worse he replied.”Well, it's to be expected.....at you age.”

How I stopped myself from beating him to death with my walking stick I shall never know!!!

TAKING MY TIME

Today I went to pick blackberries along the tow path of the Grand Union Canal,with my buggy fully charged and a nice big box for the blackberries.

Many more narrow boats than usual plied the waters and there were long queues for the locks, mostly holiday boats ,brightly painted ,each sporting a clothes line full of towels or children's clothes.

It seem very odd to me that people who chose a canal boat holiday,of necessity a leisurely slowly paced vacation,should get themselves so steamed up about having to wait their turn at the locks. Really, what do they expect,flyovers and underpasses!

Canal boat holidays are certainly not for people who crave excitement,the speed of those lovely old narrow boats means that you are lucky to make twenty miles in a day,and in order to do that it would necessitate going flat out without a stop.

For me the whole pleasure of such a trip is the gentle pace of life on the water,no need to rush,plenty of time to stop at a canal side pub for lunch,or more up and cook a meal in the galley.

Time to watch the Moore hens and coots with their chicks and the huge brilliantly coloured dragon flies hunting their prey among the reeds.

Alas, there were very few blackberries but that did not matter at all. There were the great bulrushes to marvel at, swans and their signets trawling the water weeds for food,and every kind of butterfly adorning the canal side bushes of Budlea, of which there are a great multitude. So many wonders to delight the eye smooth the flustered spirit and make the heart glad. What a pity they are wasted of the hasty holiday makers who only care that they reach the farthest point they can,before turning around and heading back.

Our morning had begun with a breakfast of eggs and bacon and a guest to chat to while the food cooked,I like having breakfast guests it is much more fun than a formal dinner party.

We ate dinner en famile ,home made chicken ,bacon and mushroom pie served with roasted sweet potato and sweet corn.......lovely.

We have promised ourselves an early night as the last few have been,for one reason or another rather late. I must say that I am rather more sleepy than usual,perhaps the result of my time spent by the calm waters of the canal and the company of bank vole and ducks,if so,more please.

ANOTHER ONE BITES THE DUST

In recent weeks I have mentioned my ongoing problems with the Estate manger and his henchman the Facilities manager. Today I am happy to report that once again this pair of bullying inept bunglers have been put very firmly in their place.

By the time the facilities manager returns from another of his holidays the work will be done.

The Estate manager,who returns to work on Monday will find himself powerless to undo what has been decided and in the middle of a s..t storm about his behaviour towards us.

If all goes well the main body of the work will be finished in one day,next Thursday,the tiling to be completed the following week.

I very much helped by an honest member of staff who ,when asked gave chapter and verse as to the way we had been treated,it would seem that I am not alone in wishing the two managers in question could be persuaded to behave in a professional manner.

While I am ,of course delighted with this turn of events I have to say that I could have done without yet another bout of conflict with two of the biggest a.......s ever to bedevil a peace loving tenant .

As luck would have it the a........ in question are in trouble from another source. A

highly valued and well respected member of the staff has handed in his notice due entirely to the victimisation he has suffered at their hands. Everyone is up in arms about this and on their return they will be facing a barrage of questions and recriminations...ho hum!

Moth had her stitches removed today and this was accomplished without the removal of chunks of flesh from yours truly! She is now enthroned in my sons room on my sons chair graciously accepting tasty little treats and condescending to allow herself to be stroked for hours on end.

Remembering what a poor thin frightened little creature she was a few short months ago it is wonderful to see her now, full of confidence and behaving like the little princess she is.

I must say that I have been surprised that the estate manager decided to lock horns with me again, so far I have bested him in every conflict with no trouble at all. I conclude that he mush enjoy pain.

Perhaps I should invest in some thigh high black boots and purchase a whip, I think shall sleep on that one.  

AVIE ON THE WARPATH

    RIP OFF TOILETRIES

It is not only baking sundries that have been targeted by money hungry supermarkets,and no doubt manufactures. Have you tried recently to purchase an Elvive Shampoo and Conditioner all in one? If you have I hope you had better luck than we have. For months now we have only been able to purchase the shampoo and conditioner separately. Waitrose, Tesco's Sainsbury's and Morrison’s no longer stock the two in one.

It would appear that these “wash and go” products have washed and gone! The reason for this seemingly senseless situation will become perfectly clear when you check out the price,the two in one was almost half the price of purchasing both products,and I believe the cheat goes deeper still.

When the combined shampoo and conditioner does eventually return the price will have been hiked up to match the cost of the individual products. The suppliers will be hoping that we shall have forgotten the original price of the combined product. I would also be prepared to wager that when it returns it will be “New and Improved”. This is code for more expensive and less of it., you just wait and see.

How many of you have noticed the incredible shrinking chocolate bar, the smaller packs of tissue that profess to contain the same amount as the larger boxes...........I could go on.

Ladies and gentlemen, we are being systematically ripped of .our pockets are being picked at every turn. In the so called Supermarket price war it is we the consumers who always end up worse of.

Take the appalling misnomer “”Value”often applied to food items. The Value Beefburger which when cooked shrinks to the size of a fly squat and gives off enough grease to fry chips.

Value mince,minced what exactly? Take a close look and you will find that it contains only minced veins and connective tissue. Cheap, yes, good value for money,certainly not!

The chances are that if you have resorted to purchasing this awful stuff it is because money is tight,and here is the rub. You are being led to believe that you are getting a bargain when in reality you are being sold a mass of trash that is not even good enough to make in to dog food,I kid you not.

I have spent much of my life on a tight budget and I speak from experience when I tell you that there is another way.

A good home made soup can cost pence and with the addition of some home made bread, “ soda bread is cheap and quick to make” is as filling and certainly healthier than the gristly burgers.

Noodles, pasta and rice are cheap and in dishes made with these ingredients far less meat is used .Add to that the fact that a stir-fry will cool in minutes and there is another saving.

A little good meat and lots of cheap vegetables in a hearty stew served with mashed potato can be a treat rather than a make do meal.

Don't let these sharks cheat you out of a decent meal and here is a tip to combat the shampoo cheats.

Do not wash your hair twice before rinsing as it says on the bottle once is quite enough, I have been doing this for years and although my hair is very long it is shiny and manageable with no split ends, it is rather grey these days. Oh well, I could always boil up some nettle roots with rosemary and make a home made dye............perhaps not!