Various toads in various holes

Somewhat to our surprise we find ourselves back in the Casino, as daughter's plumbing has packed up, possibly an excess of wet wipes down the loo by a previous visitor.
So GG, daughter and us have decamped while Son in Law paddles in the crap trying to unblock things.
Could be said to be an allegory of the marriage, but we shan't dwell on that.
Casino rooms are very cheap, as they want you to book in as long as possible and then descend to Valhalla to gamble away your life savings and future earnings.
Valhalla is no longer burning, but the smell of smoke in the gambling halls is strong, as casinos are the only buildings in USA that still allow smoking, a special dispensation.
Fortunately we don't gamble, so we had supper in the Mel's Diner [I had meatloaf with gravy and sliced carrots and courgettes and mash, my favourite American meal] and then adjouned to the 11th floor to watch the gog

Last night we had a dinner party for the friends that have aided Daughter and GG in their extremes, to say thanks.
First D&I took Bonnie to the movies to see Sherlock Holmes, which was fun, while RP cooked a huge toad in the hole for us and Randy when we returned home. They were delighted the food did not actually include frogs legs, which was all they had been able to surmise from the title.
Unknown to us the plumbing was plotting, but did not revealed its dastardly plan till today.
Daughter did her first counselling session yesterday too, she took to the ancient Wise Woman who suggested most of the strategies we had murmured of, but this time they seem to have made an impact - so we have hopes......and a counselling bill no doubt.
Son in law is hoping kind acts will overcome obstacles, such as shit shifting, but daughter is determined he should get some counselling too before the nest is re-feathered.
Some guys in the corridor were just in a slanging match, one shouted - I am just a f***ing milk carton in a f***ing grocery store to you, the other replied - give me my f***ing guitar. Intriguing.
Security soon appeared and calmed the savage breasts, sadly, before we could learn more.

S.L.A.P.P.E.R.S

Stitchers Lacemakers And Patchworkers Practise Embroidery Regularly in Suffolk

Just before we flew away we put up the Largely Women exhibition, without shedding blood or ego, the group of us largely women were very solid.

Of course since then we have been snowed on so I don't think we could open up till Sunday, and possibly arty farty doodahs were not uppermost in peoples minds at the time, more likely a dash to the supermarkets.



The gallery, like the V&A has an ace cafe attached so we are hoping a bowl of hot soup or a coffee will tempt some of the great British public out.

language

Escorted Glorious Grandson to Playgroup today.

He made friends with Jonathon, who unexpectedly is Mexican, as are lots of people here and all over. The two group leaders were fluently bilingual with Spanish, such a fast language.
Frequently Americans cannot understand the English accent tho, and fail to gush as much as they used to about how wonderful it is. I tried to order a cola ice cream float this afternoon and i might as well have spoken in Chinese as the guy was totally perplexed.
We went to the supermarket on the way home and reading the magazines by the till I discovered that our own dear Duchess of Cornwall is a lush and Charley wishes he had never married her, and that Mr and Mrs Obama are rowing, that's when they can get a word in edgewise round Brad and Angelina whose doings occupy the same status as Jordan in UK.

Sleeping with a monster

Daughter is hosting us in her basement which in the main remains unclaimed to civilisation.
We sleep surprisingly comfortably [and appropriately for a textile artist] in this tiny room, festooned with a multitude of fabrics to disguise the basic bare walls.
Outside our padded cell is the rest of the cavern stretching away the full size of the house.

Just the other side of our wall resides this apparatus, the heating monster, which periodically lurches into a long and heartfelt burble on it's troubles 24 hours a day. I am very intolerant of noise when I have aspirations to sleep and assumed we would have to de-camp to the frowzy embrace of a sound proof casino room after one night. However it possibly has hidden charms as we have slept well every night.
Daughter marches away her frustrations on this treadmill in another part of the gloom, watching a big TV usually waiting for the snow to melt.
However since we arrived the snow has fled and reappeared in Suffolk, which seems odd. Mother is getting extremely ratty that she can't get out of her bungalow to supervise village doings.
Have, as yet, not stitched a stitch, tho I have read the new Lee Childs on my K*ndle [thought it was a disappointment and gratuitously detailed in it's violence]as part of a Great Download Frenzy as all copyright problems are defunct now me and K* are in the States together.
NB I see from various blogs that snow dyeing is now a craze, not here it ain't.

splashing on

So here we are in Reno,Nevada...........took some time and effort, but some luck too as the weather seems to have turned to serious snow soon after we took flight [an hour delayed from Heathrow].
The aeroplane was the usual torture for 11 hours or several centuries,even tho we had splashed out on the seats for bigger bottoms. The Glorious Grandson was wonderful, hardly cried, did a lot of gracious sleeping in his "basinette" perched high on the bulk head in front of us.
I watched a daft film called sector 9 where aliens landed in Nigeria and were herded into "camps" whe after naughtiness ensued, quite a fun if very gory allegory for illegal immigrants/apartheid.
The stewards were reactive, if not proactive, but their rictus smiles could have curdled milk by the end of the trip, very reminiscent of Stepford Wives on speed.
Exhausted we splashed out yet again on a cab from the airport, only to be informed by the driver that we would get fined $5000 if stopped by the cops as GG was not in a baby-carseat. obviously he didn't tell us this until we were on the Freeway [the guy organising the cabs had said we were Ok in a cab, as we had been in England] SO A VERY FURTIVE APPROACH TO THE Bay.......WHOOPS, PTSS I guess.
No 1-and-only son let us take him out to dinner that evening, and explained some of my and his sisters shortcomings out of the kindness of his heart. He had just had his weekly therapy session so was especially contained of the Truth.
Rented car next morning, got lost in the one way system but eventually got GG and mater out of the city and onto highway 80......where we got pulled over by the cops!
Where was that voice coming from, did someones car radio make that much noise, no it was those flashing lights behind us and a cop getting restive that we weren't taking the next exit.
we finally pulled onto the shoulder and he explained that we were driving 10 miles over the speed limit [it is 65] of course we patiently explained we were English and couldn't be expected to understand. He took one look at RP's paper driving certificate obviously RP would resist up-dating to a card] and waved us on with worries about our continued survival. We were trying to look very unthreatening]
So here we are.
Father of GG is holed up in the other house till Daughter admits her fault, she refuses to readmit him to the human race till he admits his.
This is distressing, but at the same time it does bond us together in our enclave and RP doesn't have to maintain the peace.

Obviously a grandson of the sea.
Unfortunately is was bitterly cold at the sea side,the only palm trees being painted ones.
hattie the dog was pretending to have a good time, but really she didn't see the point of all this standing around when there was a perfectly good walk to be had along the prom with many a smell to be investigated and categorised.
A chip and mug of tea break was however welcomed by all.

counting blessings

We have all survived so far without fisticuffs.
Daughter and the Glorious Grandson are doing well, filling up the time and space available, they are out today visiting a children's palace/bouncy castle or some such, with daughters friend and her little kidlet.
He is lovely, but was one of those babes damaged at birth [not enough attention paid by medicals at the relevant time, "i think i am having the baby nurse", "nonsense it will be ages yet" Not] He is slow on his milestones and now has been belatedly discovered to have a hole in his heart which will hopefully fixed this coming year.
It is wet and windy, but no snow so far.
We made full use of two sunny days to go to the seaside and push baby's buggy along the prom and eat chips! The inadequate free buggy [thanks V*rgin] was a benefit as the stroller is rather large, but with just Buggers we can also fit GG, Daughter, Grandma, Hattie the Dog and Driver into the car.
Otherwise we have watched a lot of TV, cleaned up the floor area in a continuous rolling programme, tried not to eat chocs and/or abandoned baby food and discussed Men - particularly Men in Marriage, and why don't they grow up as quickly as women or should that be Women Who have become Mothers...............

food for thought

The Glorious Grandson has landed.
Daughter and he had a good, if delayed, flight from SF.
We drove up on Sunday afternoon, worried that the icy temperatures would make the roads a bit dicey if we left early Monday morning.
In reality it is the pavements that are treacherous down here in the S, as the fresh snow line has drifted N.
We booked a cupboard with shower in some big airport hotel thru a website that is supposed to arrange these things at short notice. Sadly they belatedly discovered the Inn was full, by the time they phoned home to let us know they had told us wrong, we were on our way.
The over booked hotel didn't want to admit it was their fault so took at least an hour trying to blame/contact the website, before passing us on to the alternative hotel they knew had a cupboard booked for us.
The cupboard had a shower [no bath I do like a long hot soak to celebrate a journey ie get my monies worth!] and a TV so I managed. The shower never did reach temperature and the scampi and chips was yuk, but we found offspring and her offspring and turned to go home. Horrible jam on the A12 but fortunately going the other way.
Airline had lost the stroller so provided a small buggy in company colours which definitely won't challenge the mountainous pavements. Took 3 days for stroller to be couriered over and part of it has been busted however it still works. Not a total celebration, but we do still have the little buggy.

Tree is enjoying seeing the cold clear light of day after a year in the loft.

and lights up the evenings.
Madame Xmas checks out the visitors [not many in this weather
Had a worry yesterday when ma wasn't answering her phone, eventually battled round, with the buggy, only to find she had just returned from town.
Damn those free bus passes, she was going stir crazy so decided to escape. Town was cold and full of wet snow and the shops had nothing she liked - surprise.
Today we did the food shopping and made sure the birds had some seeds and water. Mr and Mrs Blackbirds are feasting on the few apples still clinging to the trees, they peck away till the apple is eaten three quarters away, then it falls and they munch on to the next one.
GG doesn't seem to eat anything nutritious except cereal and bananas but I guess he knows best.

personae dramatis

The snow is sliding off the roof - the skies are shiny blue, it may not last much longer.
Last night there was a huge bang + power cut, which I immediately surmised was terrorists blowing up the docks...........so calm in my third age...........no, it turned out it was thunder, didn't know we could get winter storms.

I expect the old mangle has seen worse.


Daughter and grandson are due at Heathrow on Monday, so have to decide whether to drive up and stay over night in bleak hotel, or drive thru London in the bleak early morning light.
I am desperately trying to clear back my work room, where they sleep, so young mover [he stands and totters but isn't walking yet] doesn't disappear under an avalanche of creativity and needles.
Great grandma and I went up to the ToysRUs hanger [so big she could ask the pilot to land there, it is closer] and threw money around, mostly on wooden toys, so the Glorious Grandson will probably believe the rumours that we are become a Third World country.
American, or maybe just current, expectations of Health & Saftery are somewhat alien. When the daughter was a babe she and brother rocketed around in a veritable battle field of dangers it seems. e.g. She says I must buy duct tape to secure the plugs, and everything up to 2' above the floor must be removed or barricaded .......oh dear. I don't care, I have bought him a packet of Rusks! every baby has to risk new experiences.
That e.g. reminds me, I have just finished Robert Harris' Lustrum, his second novel on Cicero taken from the narratives of his slave secretary, Tiro. It seems that Tiro invented his own shorthand to take down C's speeches etc and Tiro invented "e.g" "&" and even "etc". just shows you never know who, why or what will be remembered.

For those who enjoy Harry Hill, I reveal our own "knitted character". I bought him to cuddle when I was ill over 20 years ago, and he has stood guard ever since, so he he well over due for his inclusion in the hall of Fame.

Merry Chrimble

The church where the RP bends his knee on a Sunday is a miserable concrete replacement of the Norman flint edifice that the Germans doodle bugged in the war.
To cheer it up a bit the congregation make [or get made] kneelers to commemorate each other and their clubs, they always put them up on show for the rest of the week, adding a bit of colour and local history.

Some young blood was added this Chrimble by the kids at the local primaries.

This angel gave one the impression she would be a good girl to have at one's side in times of adversity
The vicar has a mad collie dog [reminiscent of the vicar]but so far the sheep is cool.
The three wise men [some exaggeration surely] may or may not be illegal immigrants. The only known foreigners in the village are from the Chinese Take Away, and all us lot from London.

These are definitely the only persons of colour within five miles
I used to go to the midnight service on Xmas Eve, but I have given it up, another club I don't belong to, I should make my own kneeler.

cold comfort

Thoughts of local mysteries was kicked off by RP returning from church this morning to announce that they had prayed for Sarah who had been "killed". As he rarely notices information/gossip he asked me what it was about.
I know nothing.
We are also fairly clueless about a lesser event that obviously occurred recently, down the road, when the old brick bus shelter suddenly appeared to be sagging to it's knees and scattering bricks willy nilly.
After several drive byes we noticed that the hedgerows next to the shelter had been heavily flailed, as is the country macho custom.
Then a DIY notice appeared, tied to the protective Health and Safety fence that now protects us from retribution from the deeply wounded bus shelter.
"Well done Harry"
Enigmatic, intriguing and indicating the narrative that said Harry was happily driving his big agricultural machinery along the road, flailing away, when he misjudged when to withdraw, so to speak.
We must all expect the unexpected.

Ladies who lurch

These two ladies will be mounting guard at our January exhibition. Mrs Crisp at the top lives up to her name, while Mrs Buttons and Zips celebrates the tyranny of fastenings that struggle to contain her. [Double click for detail]
Other ladies will be Mrs Media, emblazoned with the headlines that women have to endure as to their size and gender, and Mrs Alcohol with a cork necklace of her recent comforters, and finally Mrs Chocolate with a long elegant skirt of chocolate wrappers. Took dedication that one.
As they are life size [except for appendages] they make quite a statement. All we need now is to encourage persons with cheque books to venture out in the January cold.

K*ndle Surprise

So yes I have a K*ndle,I admit it but I am not addicted, I can give it up any time.........the RP decided I am an "early adopter" a geek term it seems that implies I am impulse driven [blame my potty training] and want everything NOW.
Of course it is also a useful excuse to blame me when he gets diverted by a new gadget.
When we were in the States last we saw them in the book cathedrals [obviously everything is bigger there]I poked them excitedly and declared instant lust, but to some extent the staff weren't really au fait with their ingenious machine and really just kept it chained up to tempt customers.
However Am*zon started advertising recently that one could purchase a machine from the comfort of one's own computer. so he ordered one for my birthday.
It arrived via air-mail two days later.
No doubt a S*ny version from a warehouse down the road would have taken at least a week, or maybe a month. { I stupidly ordered a 2nd hand book thru Amazon 2 weeks ago and it still isn't here].
Anyway the K*ndle is lovely, it should ensure that the house doesn't collapse with the weight of the book shelves, I can read in bed without squashing my chest, and I only occasionally get so excited by a plot that I reach out to turn a page instead of push a button.
I rarely bath these days, the hot water tank is disappointing, I stick to listening to the radio when I am showering each morning.
So all good.
Not quite, given that it is a Yankee toy, it plays to Yankee rules, these include only offering dead authors for more or less nothing, or crap authors for a bit more. I have downloaded and read the new Michael Connelly and some others but most new books have still not crossed the copyright ocean.
Thus i ordered a Xmas supply between hard and soft covers this morning - from Amazon!
I think I would always read printed books, but for cheapness,speed of delivery [about 30 seconds for a complete book] holidays, reading in pubs and cafes while RP does his crossword, I will enjoy the neat little K*ndle.

a fairy story

Sometimes in the murk of a dirty winter a bright light shines forth, or perhaps from evil cometh grace, or..............
anyway this couple owned a haberdashers in town. [It was actually more just a fabric shop but I like the word] the shop was OK, very bright and filled with shiny materials and cross stitch and fun fur, the usual stuff.
Mrs Shop is/looks like a large, rough skinned, matriarchal Romany, arms folded across her bosom and somewhat accusing eyes. Sometimes I bought something, not often I am a threads girl on recycled tat usually.
However the world turns, as it does - relentlessly, and paying no attention to us tiny persons clinging to our life stories- and Mr Shop took the money and upped off with another. We spit on his story, which may have a different bias from his point of view, but we work with what we have got.
Mrs Shop doubtless uttered curses of occult vengeance, gathered up her stock and retrenched at home, which reveals itself as an attractive Victorian farm workers cottage in the next village.
Last week I was invited into her ancient and rickety shed in the back garden where the stock piles, quietly glittering. She has had several sales in village halls which I had dismissed in my ignorance thinking they would be the usual rip off.
However to move the stock on [before it rots] and provide a tax free income she is now selling to all comers for £5 a bolt, regardless of how much fabric is wrapped there on, plus listening to her story and that of her four strapping sons and her daughter in law's fathers gout, etc.
Obviously I turned into a manic magpie and Needed as much Shiny as i could fly out of the door - and had to be tied down, notwithstanding the above comment that I rarely buy new fabric.
I now have a magical corner in my smaller room and enough glittering fabric to clothe a regiment of fairies and the occasional elf.
At least it will warm me through the winter just by its glow.

temptress

my machine but how does it work!!

deflated

It is hard, in this grey, wet and stormy weather to keep one's pecker vertical. It is even so mild that I can't convince myself that a roaring fire would be a good idea, so no glow from the grate, just wind in the chimney.
I did manage to get the car MOTd, always a stretch as I hate turning up and looking useless, but where cars are concerned it is who I am, pointless trying to put on a show of confidence as i would be disdainfully rumbled in two ticks and the garage men are already arrogant enough.
Actually i have found that the service centre is bearable for my little Cleopatra as it has counter staff that distance me from the oily rag macho men, there is a very emollient guy called Paul who even phones up afterwards to make sure all met my expectations. As my expectations mainly wallow in humiliations I am usually ecstatic, especially as they washed the car too this time.
However Paul was busy soothing another woman when I came to claim my prize, so I muttered [safe in the knowledge that I was nearly through the torture] and a young female decided to deal with me. I was a receptionist/typist/dogsbody once and I swear I wasn't as snooty as so many who serve behind counters these days. Fight or flight led me to give her my card, grab the keys and run.
Only when I got home did I see that the numbers beside my tyre depth measurements look somewhat reduced. Is a 2 bad? I fear it may be, I can only hope young Paul can spare me the time to check on my well being so I can enquire.

harvest

Life is difficult and emotional at the moment trying to support poor daughter thru her problems, so it is good that there is still some colour to cheer in the garden.


A colour for every emotion
We have dried some in a low temp oven,which we will store in a jar for a years supply and will experiment freezing some others. Apparently it says on the Interweb we have to line them up, not touching till they freeze separately, then we can wrap them and keep them in there for future use.
Trouble is the freezer is already full of odds and sods and many packs of gooseberries, harvested earlier this year.
When ma used to come to Sunday dinner each week we would extract one and have as dessert with some ice cream. Neither ma of myself are capable of making cakes, or .........trifles.
However ma has now decided that her occasional irritable bowel means she will restrain herself to a Royal Visit on Sunday afternoon, where I shall pay court and listen repeatedly to repetitions until she decided it is getting dark so she better toddle off.
The portability of stitching comes in very useful at these time, needlework has saved many a female's sanity under such pressure to look as if one is listening.
Thus we are robbed of the opportunity to have a nice roast and a pudding, sometimes the former, but the latter seems extraneous when there are only two of us.
Thus excessive gooseberries clogging up the system. Maybe a Gooseberry party is the answer............or for breakfast, that might be an idea.

head start

Went to see Felting Needle at her Xmas Village fair, first festive outing of the season.
The village hall was warm and jolly, just as it should be - as opposed to the miserable soulless lights that have been strung across the town streets since October, cheering no-one, except maybe the very young and the very old. Certainly not the medium-old like me.
Felting Needle has wonderfully made me a hat inspired by Lorina Bulwer and Elizabeth Parker and even Agnes and her jacket [Embroderers blog] which I hope to embroider with a few words
or perhaps something more chirpy

away days

Birthday by the sea, excellent weather, food, company. Much walkies. Almost worth being a year older.

Even Hattie the dog went on a go slow after several hikes, walking along the coast, thru the gorse, across the golf course to Southwold and back; birthday money burning a hole in my pocket exploring the posh clothes shops. Finally all I bought was a stripey Tshirt, but it was a posh one - reversible and organic cotton.

If the ferry had been running it would have shortened the mileage; the notice would usually have covered their lazy arses, being November - obviously they didn't expect the sun to be shining quite so brightly, and such a lovely few days.
Quite posh meals, tho mein hostess was a little confusing, one of those toffs that are all over you in a smarmy manner, but simultaneously seem to be disdaining any contact.
First night I had delicious rabbit and bacon casserole [sorry bunnies], next night was baked cod and then faggots on parsnip mash. The latter more working class fare was partaken at another hostelry after bonfire and fireworks, very jolly.
I did only have one almost full English breakfast, but the scrambled eggs on other days were Elizabeth David, so the lbs have piled on and will take till just before the next holiday to shift.
Now this was the strangest thing, the RP who notices very little outside his own head or something attached to a plug............. or roots.......................called me into the loo to witness one of those miraculous occurrences randomly formed with a spare bit of thread, presumably as a reminder from Hattie.