Sunday, 17 September 2017

Hello, autumn wardrobe, and an advertisement

The colour magazine of our Sunday paper invites readers to "say hello to your autumn wardrobe". Well, hello, autumn wardrobe, but haven't we met before?

The short answer is, yes. Last autumn/winter, and several more autumns and winters before that. My autumn wardrobe and I are old friends. It consists of jeans, shirts and sweaters. Oh, and boots. I love boots. My wardrobe contains clothes, not "pieces". "Pieces" is a pretentious word for clothes (either that, or I've yet to discover when a clothe becomes a piece).

But wait....what have we here? A new - yes, new - navy cashmere sweater, courtesy of Uniqlo. Now, I don't usually post advertisements, but if you haven't tried Uniqlo cashmere, then I urge you to do so. It's wonderfully comfortable, not too expensive,  and most importantly of all, it NEVER BOBBLES! Bobble-free cashmere is a rarity. I had my last navy one for years, and when it finally died, it was as bobble-free as the day it was born. In fact, I actually wore it until it was thread-bare as well as bobble-free.

I do have to confess to new boots, as well, but you (I) can never have enough boots.

Have you said hello to your autumn wardrobe?

(Note to Uniqlo: you're very welcome. But now you come to mention it, a gift voucher would be lovely. Thank you.)

Monday, 11 September 2017

Finally losing it

In trying to say something to John, I've just come out with this bewildering aphorism: "let him who is without stone cast the first greenhouse".

Now, I know what I meant, but I doubt whether anyone else would, and I've decided that the last miserable wits are finally trickling out of my poor wretched head. Worrying isn't it? Well, it certainly worries me.

Is this kind of thing happening to anyone else?

Friday, 8 September 2017

Dreams and sandwiches

Graham has posted on his blog about his dreams, and this set me thinking about mine. Last night I dreamt I was making lamb and red currant jelly sandwiches (not something I've ever made, I might add). What did you dream about last night (no cheating)? I know I've posted about this before, and asked the same question, but dreams fascinate me.

Monday, 4 September 2017

A haiku


This is a haiku.
I'm not a great fan myself;
I can't see the point.

Any comments in the form of haikus, please. And if you like them, please do tell me why (in haiku form as well, of course).

Thursday, 31 August 2017

Perfect bank holiday weekend


Our family have just had the most fantastic bank holiday weekend in a Jacobean mansion on the Somerset/Dorset border. Eighteen of us (my children their partners and their children) had a wonderful time playing silly games and consuming industrial amounts of food and drink. Special thanks to Nicola and Cosima for masterminding the Sunday lunch. A real banquet.

The photo is of my two youngest sons and youngest grandchildren on the way back from the pub (no holiday is complete without a pub, right?)

Monday, 14 August 2017

Death

According to author Robert McCrum, in his new book Every Third Thought, every third thought of those of us over 65 is about death.

I have never seen death mentioned in a blog post (apart from in the context of personal bereavement), and thinking about it now, that seems strange. After all, life and death are the two basics we all have in common. We are alive, and we are going to die.

I fall into McCrum's age bracket, and yes. I think about death a lot. And it's not a prospect I relish. I feel like Woody Allen, who famously said that he wasn't afraid of death; he just didn't want to be around when it happened. I think I feel the same. I do have a fragile faith, but will it stand up to this final challenge? Quite possibly not. I regularly read the late great Elizabeth Kubler-Ross's book, Life After Death, because I find it comforting. She was a doctor who worked all her life with dying people, and she had no doubt at all that there is a (good) life after death. Am I pathetic? Quite possibly.

And yet it is hard to imagine a futureless ( for me) world. I remember laying out the body of a twenty-two-year-old girl. This was terribly sad, as these things alway are. But what I found especially poignant was that she had painted her toenails (blue). She knew she was going to die, and she was very frightened, but those sky blue toenails were like a small fragment of hope; a little stake in a future which wasn't to be.

And I can understand that.

Wednesday, 9 August 2017

Uses for an outsize cardboard box: No. 1


Well, since Amazon have declined to repossess their box (see previous post) I shall put it to good use. This is use no. 1. The photo is of all of my descendants (apart from one, who was born later. It's an old photo). No matter that we can no longer go up the kitchen stairs; I like seeing my family, and the two ancient jugs inherited from my parents.