tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-87929022094468387802024-03-05T08:34:12.126+00:00LOSING TIMENotes and posts from a writer weaving fantasy with reality...P R Fordhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09634848272422307580noreply@blogger.comBlogger102125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8792902209446838780.post-58575916644409964792023-12-21T17:25:00.000+00:002023-12-21T17:25:36.578+00:00WINTER SOLSTICESuddenly it’s here: the shortest day. This year December seems to have dragged, long dreary damp days, wet days, soaking days… Devon in December receives a milder climate than other parts of Britain, but sometimes in return we only see rain. Plymouth is four degrees west of London, so the sun sets later. Even so, I’m longing for the days to begin to lengthen and the freshness of a New Year. <div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaeh4fARq8l8eKKW87FLn_RUVhqSUblkkVsWB7CkO2mbca6xmoLZYu7vePYai6hyfhN0xEfkkTY_2CSXH5IJ-lZp3LcbEy5ASUQd4dClEe0f-LtVgVHAHhvzq01DMaZMzW2XMRuJHPMX8XOgVKeXqs0qlIGjjog2vN9UzxbmIVfOrXkOd03c84gwxl0iC3/s4585/P1029072v2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3882" data-original-width="4585" height="542" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaeh4fARq8l8eKKW87FLn_RUVhqSUblkkVsWB7CkO2mbca6xmoLZYu7vePYai6hyfhN0xEfkkTY_2CSXH5IJ-lZp3LcbEy5ASUQd4dClEe0f-LtVgVHAHhvzq01DMaZMzW2XMRuJHPMX8XOgVKeXqs0qlIGjjog2vN9UzxbmIVfOrXkOd03c84gwxl0iC3/w640-h542/P1029072v2.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div><div>Last week we visited Cotehele, a National Trust property just over the border in Cornwall, where each year they create and hang a massive garland of dried flowers. I feel certain I’ve posted photos of this before, but such a wonderful sight can never be over-repeated, so here are more photos, including some of the lovely house and garden. I also snapped a warm fire burning in the huge fireplace there (above).</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirH262jW6d1u0hlTDlCC4oX62lAl7XJdZVXXI3ujuwkJkMGYLGlg1JlS6mtUku-KczaKDW2d7iGJ8GKk8QS_f6iuKFB6C8kqcUOatfMIKOv1_AGGUAaFNn53AlwYziGDFFdZo4GoXSozMA-p3W4HoyU7mf_LGoFmbXfp-3cH5xpmdcDHY3VjN13GpS8D5E/s4000/20231213_111809.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2252" data-original-width="4000" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirH262jW6d1u0hlTDlCC4oX62lAl7XJdZVXXI3ujuwkJkMGYLGlg1JlS6mtUku-KczaKDW2d7iGJ8GKk8QS_f6iuKFB6C8kqcUOatfMIKOv1_AGGUAaFNn53AlwYziGDFFdZo4GoXSozMA-p3W4HoyU7mf_LGoFmbXfp-3cH5xpmdcDHY3VjN13GpS8D5E/w640-h360/20231213_111809.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; 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text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjg5t9lW77dFxTNyhQ75lFVYoDNW2Oy1a33miTQKfc2D4By7j_UPFJaRsNR72Ya4QxOoaWaAOa1uScooKD_maAJteX5Sned399nXvIf2gYTBrQ-buZASAvhZTAmGRyWzAyUiOif6zuPfnErlwImPROXG2TdGJfKwypENMngUnkfmSNwYvAuP6NH1_WvZMxp/s4618/P1029073v2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4618" data-original-width="3464" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjg5t9lW77dFxTNyhQ75lFVYoDNW2Oy1a33miTQKfc2D4By7j_UPFJaRsNR72Ya4QxOoaWaAOa1uScooKD_maAJteX5Sned399nXvIf2gYTBrQ-buZASAvhZTAmGRyWzAyUiOif6zuPfnErlwImPROXG2TdGJfKwypENMngUnkfmSNwYvAuP6NH1_WvZMxp/w480-h640/P1029073v2.JPG" width="480" /></a></div><br /><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiBKq6hhdWgyogIMLZBin45RZYIUIG1opF7ebGnIlmZ8z_oSsEb4_t1RjyNPpmV7raA58pkvRxAZt2_nAp0iBq1SCz033jXN5Tgh2GJcfKd3-gG9SqjHGDWT8TdEQBv9XYZwGx0vI5YEeFFy7aC6LeJWfEqkWXuOg89sXcXx_AcuA-2RZfh4cXpKI61dtY/s3082/P1029094~2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3082" data-original-width="2613" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiBKq6hhdWgyogIMLZBin45RZYIUIG1opF7ebGnIlmZ8z_oSsEb4_t1RjyNPpmV7raA58pkvRxAZt2_nAp0iBq1SCz033jXN5Tgh2GJcfKd3-gG9SqjHGDWT8TdEQBv9XYZwGx0vI5YEeFFy7aC6LeJWfEqkWXuOg89sXcXx_AcuA-2RZfh4cXpKI61dtY/w542-h640/P1029094~2.JPG" width="542" /></a></div><br /><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">*</span></div><div>Christmas approaches rapidly, and for the first time in ages I'm making lists and preparations. This year only four of us will sit around the table, but for each of us the day is a highlight of the year, especially if that year has been difficult or challenging, as I imagine will be the case for many people. Perhaps this is a good time to remember Christmases past, dear long-dead friends and relations, and also people with whom we have lost touch. </div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwUK6jn3WLLdVnLZge0nQY5sbGY7r9DO6wECYQFMkTOa36SQOIAa4OvoheKVXewRdJt9O-C4e7UFrRXPCbr95NNfd5EtiKI_5Y3-ZwEP6QDFuHMBjfsOI0sdL-Kb87-rTksSmHgF2W9iskExgVxG6QssN_QMUFNW5mwWIFdb013U65I1RNro0q0upYUZjo/s2905/DSCN1078%20(2).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2905" data-original-width="2433" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwUK6jn3WLLdVnLZge0nQY5sbGY7r9DO6wECYQFMkTOa36SQOIAa4OvoheKVXewRdJt9O-C4e7UFrRXPCbr95NNfd5EtiKI_5Y3-ZwEP6QDFuHMBjfsOI0sdL-Kb87-rTksSmHgF2W9iskExgVxG6QssN_QMUFNW5mwWIFdb013U65I1RNro0q0upYUZjo/w536-h640/DSCN1078%20(2).JPG" width="536" /></a></div><br /><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">*</span></div><div>My reading year 2023 is almost over, and Goodreads congratulated me on hitting my target of 70 books a couple of weeks ago. </div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmt00Y0GSSKZ_4lD4zIzQxzye3Ckyab5tzWEPmel-MXhejnzcELzhFGtXEv83Rl7kCw_zPePXpgzbwF0ku0BsdSqXSpmCGcFj5UEI6epzf0VvTBCjuFvG5Bf5M5EmaIZG9BAr6dfG-uE91p5H0Y5kuLIGnP7S8RcCe9A89LjYTh3wwbFPRfFDUOCTwYDD4/s801/Goodreads%202023.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="784" data-original-width="801" height="313" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmt00Y0GSSKZ_4lD4zIzQxzye3Ckyab5tzWEPmel-MXhejnzcELzhFGtXEv83Rl7kCw_zPePXpgzbwF0ku0BsdSqXSpmCGcFj5UEI6epzf0VvTBCjuFvG5Bf5M5EmaIZG9BAr6dfG-uE91p5H0Y5kuLIGnP7S8RcCe9A89LjYTh3wwbFPRfFDUOCTwYDD4/s320/Goodreads%202023.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div><br /></div><div>Best book of the year: 'Act of Oblivion' by Robert Harris (about post-civil war Britain and America, and the hunting down of the men who executed the King). Runners up: 'A Winter Grave' by Peter May, 'Kingdom of Strangers' by Zoe Ferraris and 'The Island Home' by Libby Page. I recommend all four. Out of the seventy quite a few were not good choices, and a couple I simply could not finish. Not all books to which famous people give outstanding reviews are necessarily as good as they make out!</div></div><div>Here is my full list in the Challenge if you are interested: </div><div><a href="https://l.facebook.com/l.php?u=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.goodreads.com%2Fuser_challenges%2F40528163%3Ffbclid%3DIwAR2pIDSlgRNBpQk0o_fC517w6k1rZ23LbE7JYBR3-BsQD0PeXR3-Jzd_dFE&h=AT3jLPg64jwRIiBfD0etdOK0KqrBy0sjPzcpd275E58AwmlyECwLyCU9Ozxgsfrdq9xKbueexis_FJC3gKvPi01W8c4G9RqJMdBX4pRZXkyQJhPex3UHAhfbiQjXTbxU4Q&__tn__=H-R&c[0]=AT0YMNTAz_FcB0ElA-Lo7KP4DHTWb3m34wza9Vy0CL3wsU4ToE7m4PyCHV0er1N-8FKmRZhTI8lsK-DBY0AuDW-U7guMjRFTvos7YG9HKUoSm1PrE-cwRBOSggXwp8mA139jK8s6Q9te44RQfnZ6AFL_CFVGSeWDUU8MUFPc408VJ3tj6pBTZiFz" target="_blank">My Goodreads Challenge 2023!</a><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>Finally: the garden in December. Nothing worth seeing here, but of course I'll post a couple of photos:</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipZ3k1pEkhPo8ZpcXO-KCGu-rybpq48yeQ9lCj1xU4L1BltIU7YZ3C2uZHspVmjDZ8XlRWSBZjy3VTH7PntKyMt3CzXAnuCpw6FJYZaH1dLzAJhslHcr3RXsp50FO1pmNEFQDBVcCIb7R-r0skFW-p-NSlWcaSk3yEUUOCscvly74SgTIzYum0P49e7J_L/s5184/P1029017.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3888" data-original-width="5184" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipZ3k1pEkhPo8ZpcXO-KCGu-rybpq48yeQ9lCj1xU4L1BltIU7YZ3C2uZHspVmjDZ8XlRWSBZjy3VTH7PntKyMt3CzXAnuCpw6FJYZaH1dLzAJhslHcr3RXsp50FO1pmNEFQDBVcCIb7R-r0skFW-p-NSlWcaSk3yEUUOCscvly74SgTIzYum0P49e7J_L/w640-h480/P1029017.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7wal6481m9xy3t4BuosVBrIhIaxbCeV74AYJFOnMcaVrXZdIA3riZl5BXaw9zjcP35YrdqjIZ3Mafng6jFZypzEsf3CVaVx5Ti-VETRdtbo_A8WXYlQAgFuvj2ANuRGuq5c-Qr0m4ennLh1NDrF5wMSvBivC-HXcxml4NFjOrD_KnW3bRa5qnGjF6wdp8/s5184/P1029018.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3888" data-original-width="5184" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7wal6481m9xy3t4BuosVBrIhIaxbCeV74AYJFOnMcaVrXZdIA3riZl5BXaw9zjcP35YrdqjIZ3Mafng6jFZypzEsf3CVaVx5Ti-VETRdtbo_A8WXYlQAgFuvj2ANuRGuq5c-Qr0m4ennLh1NDrF5wMSvBivC-HXcxml4NFjOrD_KnW3bRa5qnGjF6wdp8/w640-h480/P1029018.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div>These were taken at the beginning of December when some sharp frosts hit, and I just had time to move most of my tender plants into the greenhouse, although it was a bit of a scramble.</div><div><br /></div><div>To end on a positive note, I spotted this little clump of daffodils flowering in the garden at Cotehele. I've never seen such an early - or perhaps late - blooming, but Cornwall is famous for its daffodils, so maybe it's not so unusual there in a sheltered spot. I love seeing the emergence of their green tips in January, and some are already peeping up in my own garden here, so Spring cannot be too far away.</div><div><br /></div><div><b>A very HAPPY CHRISTMAS to you all, and the hope for better times (and weather) once the New Year arrives. Enjoy yourselves!</b></div><div><b><br /></b></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIDcyAXcTzJLEgyrUtNY0c6uSmfqRBvy3SnrSToHR_GNzPazbDEfWBzpz-rIbAsPQzD6up3druuQbxD97tOm8p0M2XXHh65aGaCoSFh1duV0dV4sv1FDguUhCXPrJsLUuQnZERVQ8akW5WIQyHcko53FLmaqoiC5E_dnIS6yVjzLOL9dompzIp2jlyBvKj/s5184/P1029115.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="5184" data-original-width="3888" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIDcyAXcTzJLEgyrUtNY0c6uSmfqRBvy3SnrSToHR_GNzPazbDEfWBzpz-rIbAsPQzD6up3druuQbxD97tOm8p0M2XXHh65aGaCoSFh1duV0dV4sv1FDguUhCXPrJsLUuQnZERVQ8akW5WIQyHcko53FLmaqoiC5E_dnIS6yVjzLOL9dompzIp2jlyBvKj/w480-h640/P1029115.JPG" width="480" /></a></div><br /><b><br /></b></div><div><br /></div>P R Fordhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09634848272422307580noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8792902209446838780.post-89885942914270935672023-08-26T19:51:00.004+01:002023-08-26T19:53:09.065+01:00CLIMBING<p> A lot has happened since I last wrote, but I want to begin by talking about climbing. I don’t mean the sort of serious rock climbing where you see people hanging on ropes dressed in protective outfits. Hill climbing is gentler, but can still be an effort. We – and I probably mean I – decided to visit the Malvern Hills a few weeks ago. For those of you unfamiliar with this feature, the hills and the town of Great Malvern which is situated below them, are part of an Area of Outstanding Natural Beauty, with scenic views over both Herefordshire and Worcestershire. When I was a child we visited several times, my younger brother and I racing our parents to the hilltops and running up and down along the ridges, revelling in the fresh air and freedom. My father knew the hills well, and my parents spent their honeymoon there, although at the end of November I cannot imagine the weather being particularly good! </p><table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="MsoTableGrid" style="border-collapse: collapse; border: none; mso-border-insideh: none; mso-border-insidev: none; mso-padding-alt: 0cm 5.4pt 0cm 5.4pt; mso-yfti-tbllook: 1184;">
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</tbody></table>But I digress. I had a sudden urge to climb the hills again, to the very top, as I had done so many years before, and while I still could. My other half had never done this, so was keen to give it a go. We managed to find one of those bargain breaks in a good hotel in the centre of the town, from where you can begin your climb almost at once. We took the route of the ‘Ninety-nine Steps’ which in itself may sound daunting. My recently purchased walking shoes took these in their stride, and the next bit of the climb took us up to a spot called St Ann’s Well, where you can sit for a while, and there is a cafe for tea and food. <div><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIPgeUnwIItkB42VfZ9lMXWmjzd67G9gGlUnGi40MZmR_POn9WkDYK4c0XVLT-MEi8NVGAF2OJko0IWNr21VVuksjrdzXfhoIho8iNkXeDe059uuzBp6xBv9mb-9ra86f1-Aq9ecx4YKcJMci8F5Gty1hsL8F0r4s21xkbPQ0z9W_ACisKZAmNrPCuwG45/s4000/DSCN4921.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3000" data-original-width="4000" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIPgeUnwIItkB42VfZ9lMXWmjzd67G9gGlUnGi40MZmR_POn9WkDYK4c0XVLT-MEi8NVGAF2OJko0IWNr21VVuksjrdzXfhoIho8iNkXeDe059uuzBp6xBv9mb-9ra86f1-Aq9ecx4YKcJMci8F5Gty1hsL8F0r4s21xkbPQ0z9W_ACisKZAmNrPCuwG45/w400-h300/DSCN4921.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">St Ann's Well</td></tr></tbody></table><p>We didn’t want to linger there, and began to make our way up the long climb to the top. I say ‘climb’, and everyone we met coming down described it as a ‘climb’, but at no point to you need to pull yourself up with your hands. It’s the fairly steep gradient up which you are walking, and it becomes very apparent when, as I did, you are forced to stop to catch your breath. I had to do this several times, (asthmatic, but otherwise moderately fit,) but was so determined to reach the top that nothing and no-one would have stopped me! My other half had no such problems, patiently waiting each time I took a break.</p><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgO35HR6RrcttX-osXAmAC-BxUfZA_0t8RQt7kIx4avfLHERjnrq-3hjGItB9qiZafUBjakPjJCsDkpnFPZBpPPsgXTIZNEyEdT0pqacDmv4LscIItgOhJ2HQbly81bmJRtLmtOLCjEymXM4ZJlNkgAALyT8m_T1Dgk9tCoMjDxcvcqT6RT3p6Or9Jh4P1h/s4000/DSCN4900.JPG" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="3000" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgO35HR6RrcttX-osXAmAC-BxUfZA_0t8RQt7kIx4avfLHERjnrq-3hjGItB9qiZafUBjakPjJCsDkpnFPZBpPPsgXTIZNEyEdT0pqacDmv4LscIItgOhJ2HQbly81bmJRtLmtOLCjEymXM4ZJlNkgAALyT8m_T1Dgk9tCoMjDxcvcqT6RT3p6Or9Jh4P1h/w480-h640/DSCN4900.JPG" width="480" /></a></div><br /><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="text-align: left;">Eventually the trees fell away and the summit began to feel closer and closer. Finally we reached it! I can hardly find the words to describe how wonderful it felt to stand in the wind and gaze out across the landscape to the horizon on all sides. There is a heady rush of exhilaration more potent than champagne ever could be. </span></div><p></p><table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="MsoTableGrid" style="border-collapse: collapse; border: none; mso-border-insideh: none; mso-border-insidev: none; mso-padding-alt: 0cm 5.4pt 0cm 5.4pt; mso-yfti-tbllook: 1184;">
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</tbody></table><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiIkuYL7r4E8CxLtxwhF_ng6EcMTlEgoiJWksXysRucVJa_B6hTrEb8bZYUMpaJgcJmgMKsNaDnb-bTBpdvHPtIRTeDoSwyRWszdL4eRhaIBpjaJgFs9Givf8lI59vLHBDqZ0mXFsXzwooWeA5GqEIh9m5J_jw6R3EGsr8t912Ep0iBl5itR_QnS0BdY5B/s4493/IMG_20230809_130008828.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3299" data-original-width="4493" height="470" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiIkuYL7r4E8CxLtxwhF_ng6EcMTlEgoiJWksXysRucVJa_B6hTrEb8bZYUMpaJgcJmgMKsNaDnb-bTBpdvHPtIRTeDoSwyRWszdL4eRhaIBpjaJgFs9Givf8lI59vLHBDqZ0mXFsXzwooWeA5GqEIh9m5J_jw6R3EGsr8t912Ep0iBl5itR_QnS0BdY5B/w640-h470/IMG_20230809_130008828.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">View east from Sugarloaf Hill with North Hill far right</td></tr></tbody></table></div><p>We climbed to the top of the Sugarloaf Hill, which is not the highest. I didn’t have the energy for North Hill or The Beacon, which were further away and demanded more energy. We were quite happy with our views of Worcestershire to the East and Herefordshire (and Wales) to the West.</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIYSBAq1dSJyBC-ut3AhYBcd_UzCiso9FA4C6jbNUaMnS-DTeEZD5oIUPiu1Hy1xRsoVPWT3-ikq-55bDJhOdCsFBxEyBLEF0yvWSfYs-Af1WJOKNiRTib2SPINSN4kXvpq1TEaGG4tYYSey2Fj8l-euxuvBNv9HfNeWscsi1HPRmiEdzeL4GUO6vyxqUO/s5184/P1028177.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3888" data-original-width="5184" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIYSBAq1dSJyBC-ut3AhYBcd_UzCiso9FA4C6jbNUaMnS-DTeEZD5oIUPiu1Hy1xRsoVPWT3-ikq-55bDJhOdCsFBxEyBLEF0yvWSfYs-Af1WJOKNiRTib2SPINSN4kXvpq1TEaGG4tYYSey2Fj8l-euxuvBNv9HfNeWscsi1HPRmiEdzeL4GUO6vyxqUO/w640-h480/P1028177.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Easterly view showing Wales in the distance</div></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><br /><p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVOdz9lczAjMiZCbfvlLhse0VWnTxtc3m04GiA8GDpUUVDE1m2Rz58sCUqCstAX-EmxkdelQ9Z5AJjd00KY226ahv4R-xhVUZ4Lp9IAD8NRfTVPuI_TPVkQacLAIXEF4hl8f_mmcAuEHZUz9G3tiKnpNl_6Df-c2Ir2DmssWJTgAQCg0OOjy_JLui4VOht/s5184/P1028173v2%20Malvern%20Beacon.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3888" data-original-width="5184" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVOdz9lczAjMiZCbfvlLhse0VWnTxtc3m04GiA8GDpUUVDE1m2Rz58sCUqCstAX-EmxkdelQ9Z5AJjd00KY226ahv4R-xhVUZ4Lp9IAD8NRfTVPuI_TPVkQacLAIXEF4hl8f_mmcAuEHZUz9G3tiKnpNl_6Df-c2Ir2DmssWJTgAQCg0OOjy_JLui4VOht/w640-h480/P1028173v2%20Malvern%20Beacon.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">View West showing The Beacon and kite fliers</td></tr></tbody></table></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div>Our descent using a different route, whilst less laborious, became more difficult where it had rained the previous day and was muddy in parts. Other people climbing both up and down were both friendly and helpful, one man in particular who was (astonishingly) wearing only sandals on his feet preceded us down the steepest and most difficult part of our descent, shouting out warnings and encouragement. Such people are gems. We in turn gave encouragement to others making the climb and finding it daunting. You wouldn’t want to turn back, as you would miss an experience unlike any other, and these days we need moments of sheer uplifting happiness to help us through troubled and difficult times.<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><p></p><div style="text-align: center;">***</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Back at home, and for the garden it's been a Summer of ups and downs, both in terms of temperature, sun and rain, and growth. In the greenhouse, the tomatoes have excelled themselves! This year I've concentrated more on 'heritage' tomatoes and my goodness they are huge and very tasty indeed. The plants themselves have been difficult to raise in terms of the June heat and a ban on using hosepipes (from May, and ongoing) meaning that all watering has been using cans which is heavy work. We spent a week in France, and are truly grateful to our wonderful neighbour Denise who single-handedly watered the tomatoes every day and saved their lives.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="MsoTableGrid" style="border-collapse: collapse; border: none; mso-border-insideh: none; mso-border-insidev: none; mso-padding-alt: 0cm 5.4pt 0cm 5.4pt; mso-yfti-tbllook: 1184;">
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</tbody></table></div><div style="text-align: left;">In the main garden it's been a bit hit and miss. My 'Annabelle' hydrangea was almost destroyed by high winds and rain in July, and it's been very sad to watch its broken flower heads lose their beauty and begin to go brown.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_PtFzWxKnB8ue43PTiDKeOj5EDpyNmAUC7OHDkAF6ImcBOnS2_Ufj58_rCW39uybk50gXBHUHsdq8aNLQ-yUKz97k3lNXIiE6kxXQ2vXTFusnEG2oEpCdvfdz6fIj7_RX3aMCfHn94mYh-Zyq8DE18D5op4LtzLuMDyUAaGxAVsUKrcMh8DHOkl827Hq4/s3000/DSCN5013v2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2708" data-original-width="3000" height="289" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_PtFzWxKnB8ue43PTiDKeOj5EDpyNmAUC7OHDkAF6ImcBOnS2_Ufj58_rCW39uybk50gXBHUHsdq8aNLQ-yUKz97k3lNXIiE6kxXQ2vXTFusnEG2oEpCdvfdz6fIj7_RX3aMCfHn94mYh-Zyq8DE18D5op4LtzLuMDyUAaGxAVsUKrcMh8DHOkl827Hq4/s320/DSCN5013v2.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">In contrast other hydrangeas have withstood the weather, as have the dahlias, some of which have bloomed superbly!</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="MsoTableGrid" style="border-collapse: collapse; border: none; mso-border-insideh: none; mso-border-insidev: none; mso-padding-alt: 0cm 5.4pt 0cm 5.4pt; mso-yfti-tbllook: 1184;">
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</tbody></table></div><br />And speaking of climbing, my climbing rose has performed admirably:<div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxvLX-DqGu3uWJPdYAlHamQ6ByMl7xLCvVy9I4IjvENBiIlXvYzZf8XvKnS-scp20rQIKnL6YHzYZN1eFAcXx1wOwHKsfa6vcbLYVXGgtSlixsrkktukHxha1XSjpTArMgTXGB3owqpQCdeHSX0vUwsqdvEIaO_REd3rfVUzUI2JpU77jYAX5L9KRX6pv0/s5184/P1028230.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="5184" data-original-width="3888" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxvLX-DqGu3uWJPdYAlHamQ6ByMl7xLCvVy9I4IjvENBiIlXvYzZf8XvKnS-scp20rQIKnL6YHzYZN1eFAcXx1wOwHKsfa6vcbLYVXGgtSlixsrkktukHxha1XSjpTArMgTXGB3owqpQCdeHSX0vUwsqdvEIaO_REd3rfVUzUI2JpU77jYAX5L9KRX6pv0/w480-h640/P1028230.JPG" width="480" /></a></div><br /><div><div style="text-align: center;">***</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">I have two book recommendations for you. I read these in sequence, purely accidentally, but discovered a link between them although they are totally unalike.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">The first is: 'The Vanishing Act of Esme Lennox' by Maggie O'Farrell. I quote from a reviewer on Goodreads who sums up all of my own thoughts:</div><div style="text-align: left;"><i>'Hard to believe there was a time when a young girl or wife or mother could be committed to a psychiatric institute indefinitely just on the say so of a doctor, a mother, a jealous sister, a father or a husband. But there was. The writing in this book is deceptively simple and oh so elegant. The characters real and complete, using flashbacks and memories. The ending... for me, perfect.'</i></div><div>The theme of the story sent a shiver down my spine. The world of the 1930s is nearly a century ago, when people could be unbelievably cruel and self-centred. Esme is committed to a psychiatric institute and remains there for sixty years, until the unit is closed and a relative who can take her is discovered. There's a huge twist to the story, and I found it both astonishing and riveting.</div><div><br /></div>The second is: 'Kingdom of Strangers' by Zoe Ferraris. The book's description says: <i>'Kingdom of Strangers is a suspenseful story of murder and deception among Saudi Arabia's shaded alleys, gleaming compounds and vast lonely deserts.' </i><br />What this doesn't tell you about the story is the struggle of a young woman, one of very few on the Jeddah Police Force, to be herself and do her job in a shuttered and repressive society. Her 'entrapment' is a kind of link to the first book. If you decide to read them both, let me know if you find the same link, and what you think - I will be most interested. Both books are superbly crafted and written, and I will definitely read them again.</div><div><br /></div><div>Life is like climbing. You make the efforts and you reap the rewards, and it can be very hard. And then: you still have to climb down again! Look after yourselves, and I'll try not to take so long before I write the next piece.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRkNoGd-fnt9kdeUu_Xwb5D0JsoacQg76N1DAVkb84RObnVOx7cn8k-gcofI37i9yNa82GHT-iPeEFcYEEfMvMsT_sZTA1pNM6lmUMcXOnO938Um5CTtJ4B86aj4WgrGVWpt1jbGFlPBs-ATjMNtSWJR_XhmCClZH-OcoeWsZqD4Gxbv-o4HdqlpbT76v0/s5184/P1027863v2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3888" data-original-width="5184" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRkNoGd-fnt9kdeUu_Xwb5D0JsoacQg76N1DAVkb84RObnVOx7cn8k-gcofI37i9yNa82GHT-iPeEFcYEEfMvMsT_sZTA1pNM6lmUMcXOnO938Um5CTtJ4B86aj4WgrGVWpt1jbGFlPBs-ATjMNtSWJR_XhmCClZH-OcoeWsZqD4Gxbv-o4HdqlpbT76v0/w640-h480/P1027863v2.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Favourite Dahlias in July</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div><br /><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div></div><br /><br /><br /></div><br />P R Fordhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09634848272422307580noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8792902209446838780.post-3861928100110541822023-03-31T13:58:00.000+01:002023-03-31T13:58:27.269+01:00TENACITY<p> The last day of March is undoubtedly exiting ‘like a lion’ with gusts of wind and rain battering the windows as I write this. One quarter of the year has passed, with few cheerful sunny moments, although last Monday was just such a day, and we made the most of it by visiting Truro.</p><p>Truro is Cornwall’s ‘county town’, a cathedral city in fact, and very popular with tourists – although fortunately for us they haven’t quite arrived in their hoards just yet. We used the excellent ‘Park and Ride’ service to access the centre, and took the time in between shopping to visit the Cathedral which we hadn’t seen for many years. A pretty display of hanging baskets in front of the main entrance enhances the grand front of the building. Inside, despite being quite a ‘young’ Cathedral compared with many in Britain, it is truly beautiful both inside and out.</p><table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="MsoTableGrid" style="border-collapse: collapse; border: none; mso-border-insideh: none; mso-border-insidev: none; mso-padding-alt: 0cm 5.4pt 0cm 5.4pt; mso-yfti-tbllook: 1184;">
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</tbody></table><div style="text-align: center;"><b>***</b></div><p>Since my last blog post our ornamental Japanese Cherry tree has flowered and gone over, the blossom being replaced with new leaves. As the petals fell, a kind of pink snow built up on the grass around the tree, and a number of bluetits could be seen on the branches, moving around with the speed of flashing Christmas tree lights as they fed on bits of dead blossom and tiny insects. They continue to visit it, clinging on with great tenacity, and won’t be put off even when I open the window or creep close with the camera.</p><table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="MsoTableGrid" style="border-collapse: collapse; border: none; mso-border-insideh: none; mso-border-insidev: none; mso-padding-alt: 0cm 5.4pt 0cm 5.4pt; mso-yfti-tbllook: 1184;">
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</tbody></table><p>Elsewhere in the garden daffodils have been parading their gorgeous bright colours. Some were very early but others have yet to flower, so their season is long this year. Again, the wind knocks them down, but they are quite strong and manage to revive, although today’s blasts may have finished off some of them. I have lost most of my Hebe bushes, which were weakened by the excessively hot Summer and finished off by frost. I planted them when we first moved here eight years ago, so we have taken them out and this is an opportunity to replace or plant something new. The garden is always changing!</p><p style="text-align: center;"><b>***</b></p><p>For Christmas I was given a DNA testing kit by our son. This was exciting! A tiny test tube of my saliva was sent to a processing centre in Ireland which works in conjunction with Ancestry, the family history organisation. Six weeks later my results arrived in the form of an email from Ancestry. They are fascinating.</p><table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="MsoTableGrid" style="border-collapse: collapse; border: none; mso-border-insideh: none; mso-border-insidev: none; mso-padding-alt: 0cm 5.4pt 0cm 5.4pt; mso-yfti-tbllook: 1184;">
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</tbody></table><div>The ethnicity was partly a surprise (Wales??) and partly not, as my father's family originates in England around the Liverpool area, and my maternal grandfather was Swiss. Having researched my mother's family some years ago, I realised that her mother's ancestry has a link to Wales which must be much stronger than I previously thought!</div><div><br /></div><div>More bonuses followed, the first of which has been the discovery of a new, very distant cousin: Suzi in Iowa, US, who is only a year older than me, and who reached out after my DNA results were published. I had ticked all the boxes for sharing when Ancestry questioned me about this, because my son is the last of our line which will then become extinct, and I am keen to share all my extensive family history information with all those interested. Such links are available to all those whose DNA has been tested and who agreed to share their results. Apparently I have 225 cousins, two of whom I already knew, and the rest more distant. One distant cousin on my mother's side - another bonus - John in Australia, is helping me with my family tree by adding information he has obtained from more cousins. It's extraordinary!</div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b>***</b></div><div><br /></div><div>All the excitement over the DNA and extra work on family history is the reason for this blog post being so delayed. I have also been reading, and one book must be recommended to you. This book was serialised by the BBC and I listened to it after Christmas, but very annoyingly missed the first episode and could not access it from their 'Sounds' set-up (which is often not very user-friendly). So I bought the book, and it has been outstanding. 'Act of Oblivion' by Robert Harris is set in the 1660s in both England and America. This is a short description:</div><div><br /></div><div><div><i>'... spellbinding historical novel that brilliantly imagines one of the greatest manhunts in history: the search for two Englishmen involved in the killing of King Charles I and the implacable foe on their trail—an epic journey into the wilds of seventeenth-century New England, and a chase like no other</i></div><div><i><br /></i></div><div><i>'From what is it they flee?'</i></div><div><i><br /></i></div><div><i>He took a while to reply. By the time he spoke the men had gone inside. He said quietly, “They killed the King.”'</i></div></div><div><br /></div><div>Here is my review on Goodreads:</div><div><br /></div><div><div><i>'There are almost no words for this. A book which makes you think deeply about its story long after finishing it is something very special. I had never viewed history from Cromwell's point of view, in fact I knew little about this period of history other than what I had read from many authors with a Royalist take. I'm so glad I heard this (brilliantly read) on the radio, because it made me determined to read the book, and I highly recommend others to do the same. It's a gripping story of a brutal age so dominated by religious thought as to be dangerous for almost everyone going about their daily lives. Whichever side you took on the Royalist/Cromwellian divide, you were damned.</i></div><div><i><br /></i></div><div><i>Five stars, an outstanding read. Highly recommended, and I'll definitely read it again.'</i></div></div><div><br /></div><div>Just one proviso: there are some very gruesome scenes, extremely well described. Well, it was, after all, the Middle Ages!</div><div><br /></div><div>Let me know if you have read anything outstanding lately, or if you have had your DNA tested!</div><div>All for now, take care of yourselves and enjoy the Spring - when it finally arrives.</div><div><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMFGNJ96kDS21wiUYiKHR8RSsH_KlYPt33buffLKbDWfjtirzHFL1_vk5-d71q5_9o6jqH_-K5vHH2q2CBim1Zh5o-ov5LZSFGH5LZvcOH4fj6V6LccOj4JzFilwLZOcKVMFlCd616gvafTI7MpbZIlAs7-KlTV8JrLFc93_9j5TcX7wXtdRnMq9qOLw/s5184/P1026518.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3888" data-original-width="5184" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMFGNJ96kDS21wiUYiKHR8RSsH_KlYPt33buffLKbDWfjtirzHFL1_vk5-d71q5_9o6jqH_-K5vHH2q2CBim1Zh5o-ov5LZSFGH5LZvcOH4fj6V6LccOj4JzFilwLZOcKVMFlCd616gvafTI7MpbZIlAs7-KlTV8JrLFc93_9j5TcX7wXtdRnMq9qOLw/w640-h480/P1026518.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dancing daffodils at Buckland Abbey, March 2023</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div><br /></div><br />P R Fordhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09634848272422307580noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8792902209446838780.post-41137126750755426032023-01-04T15:31:00.000+00:002023-01-04T15:31:21.133+00:00THE BEST<p> Happy New Year! As we roll into 2023 I’ll be taking a look at my favourite photos and books of 2022, but first – a few thoughts on the current state of things.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5qMwNg7dEIfsmajcZ4eSRVYuKVTZvXQzN2JAMHo5V7FJ23tyDe_ZSTtgvg6DcEBuO25IQFRkbPQhgjI8impkXxUeNrEUbi10FNKx9I8es6HfeZY-JUNg7Jf_Aev5Ncv3QZTILVZWr9t0KCQSrw8s-DrP7tZZ64cOOI7NCSdvoTCDMzW1MouJC_G7XxQ/s4292/P1020849v3.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1563" data-original-width="4292" height="234" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5qMwNg7dEIfsmajcZ4eSRVYuKVTZvXQzN2JAMHo5V7FJ23tyDe_ZSTtgvg6DcEBuO25IQFRkbPQhgjI8impkXxUeNrEUbi10FNKx9I8es6HfeZY-JUNg7Jf_Aev5Ncv3QZTILVZWr9t0KCQSrw8s-DrP7tZZ64cOOI7NCSdvoTCDMzW1MouJC_G7XxQ/w640-h234/P1020849v3.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><p>There used to be a description given to certain people: a ‘safe pair of hands.’ My father was one such, someone with whom you felt safe, secure and protected. A person at the helm of a household, an organisation, a business or even a government, who ran things in an orderly manner and with good sense. These people were totally reliable in a crisis. They had often served in the armed forces and (in my father’s case) during war. If everything went wrong, this person would know what to do, and would get on and do it. And I keep asking myself: where are these people now? Has the twenty-first century seen the demise of the ‘safe pair of hands’? For if ever some were needed to sort out the myriad crises in the world at this time, it is now. More than this, there is an urgent requirement in many governments for leaders who can combine the ‘safe pair of hands’ with the star qualities of bravery, daring and courage who are prepared to take a chance and try something new. This is where things become difficult, because I must decide whether I believe such people still exist and can rise to lead us out from the slump of mediocrity in which we find ourselves, or if we are doomed to slide into a ‘slough of despond.’ The latter is almost too depressing to contemplate, which is perhaps why we all carry on living our lives simply hoping for everything to improve. I’m not sure it will. Tell me what you think!</p><p style="text-align: center;">***</p><p>Someone suggested choosing the best photo from each month of 2022, and this was a challenge I enjoyed. Some months lacked inspiration while others contained a number of ‘best’ photos making the choice difficult. In the end I succeeded in picking a dozen, and here they are.</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjonpapCaEz6GCtu8fHYv50I4BGrg6hD_IIYt8oCW6C2eVafrGcSqrKzl5sQk9Rm60BWF4JEIsHz1syWEoG28BzH7nvyiHS1weNp3M8h70eUufw7T_krvMM9AlGR6i6bxd6aWwWi9iEmCRI0WeIsN9wRdq5rJ4QnxVb79YRMKU-3KJP2LfoPJhSdw4ihw/s5184/P1012600V3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="5184" data-original-width="3888" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjonpapCaEz6GCtu8fHYv50I4BGrg6hD_IIYt8oCW6C2eVafrGcSqrKzl5sQk9Rm60BWF4JEIsHz1syWEoG28BzH7nvyiHS1weNp3M8h70eUufw7T_krvMM9AlGR6i6bxd6aWwWi9iEmCRI0WeIsN9wRdq5rJ4QnxVb79YRMKU-3KJP2LfoPJhSdw4ihw/s320/P1012600V3.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bullfinch in January</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiITZp58za6Rwqu_KkpINbKoYV2oDHCP9wrI4579eTO0cylQNoxtBEyYTwKwOIwNpHZjNudeAE4iEzqwhUXR77Bfa24dlDrxKT4VGqvBL3dl3CHUMb6MrHDLTWhcpcPoM_122mr6BWdLogvJQdWsKiQ2IAW3j4_REBasCNyc2g5k1HzyYR3MvJUsM6uTw/s5184/P1012812.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3888" data-original-width="5184" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiITZp58za6Rwqu_KkpINbKoYV2oDHCP9wrI4579eTO0cylQNoxtBEyYTwKwOIwNpHZjNudeAE4iEzqwhUXR77Bfa24dlDrxKT4VGqvBL3dl3CHUMb6MrHDLTWhcpcPoM_122mr6BWdLogvJQdWsKiQ2IAW3j4_REBasCNyc2g5k1HzyYR3MvJUsM6uTw/s320/P1012812.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ornamental Cherry blossom in February</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCuqJtyykhvIrMUMZ16x58oWC8d1zvSCySIvoxPLP84HPVqcVX-nDJ4Vymk2U8ZBBudd7JsIfodqImeGWEZcXrUS0AiuHf1L4aYuTZVCfqzITxZ9eYfOS0RUEEZQg-gKGSnwy7XSu8d43gHHDNtv2kpO_CvDjPPdh90AxA4_tN57GFVe0K024QHxDmlA/s5184/P1013032.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="5184" data-original-width="3888" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCuqJtyykhvIrMUMZ16x58oWC8d1zvSCySIvoxPLP84HPVqcVX-nDJ4Vymk2U8ZBBudd7JsIfodqImeGWEZcXrUS0AiuHf1L4aYuTZVCfqzITxZ9eYfOS0RUEEZQg-gKGSnwy7XSu8d43gHHDNtv2kpO_CvDjPPdh90AxA4_tN57GFVe0K024QHxDmlA/s320/P1013032.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pear blossom in March</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmOz3sno7nxTuN_6DKC8KHuJ6SNM_xaqqKdfGyY4UwwmY4eRU6U6Uq9Ms_UgcmcOvMvfUOxCvizD49ARDDse-xi8KLJBU_8H7A4KR5Oc8ixi6bmF5m9pJw1XB9voYKj4H2yn_RYmBYNslGTN9DIIe94xToTxcGPhg175m4KKjwg0pk6HnmCJzICAiHgg/s5184/P1013167.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3888" data-original-width="5184" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmOz3sno7nxTuN_6DKC8KHuJ6SNM_xaqqKdfGyY4UwwmY4eRU6U6Uq9Ms_UgcmcOvMvfUOxCvizD49ARDDse-xi8KLJBU_8H7A4KR5Oc8ixi6bmF5m9pJw1XB9voYKj4H2yn_RYmBYNslGTN9DIIe94xToTxcGPhg175m4KKjwg0pk6HnmCJzICAiHgg/s320/P1013167.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Robin in April</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNjDT-7P-iW7S5rZZPoUOgEiMMaJ9BwF3Nn42LNmnd-v9QYOHimkTghYrH6HoA4pluhxhMSiZ-X-qh240OonjWtjCGVhkF15F_OhbKRKjncTOS8ezY3HL4fTlUsYvuEo3jFEQprcZ_RrID-TT5FKxD43rWpA9cUJuf6JQUodZ9Juo_3U49nvDllC_PKw/s5184/P1013596.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3888" data-original-width="5184" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNjDT-7P-iW7S5rZZPoUOgEiMMaJ9BwF3Nn42LNmnd-v9QYOHimkTghYrH6HoA4pluhxhMSiZ-X-qh240OonjWtjCGVhkF15F_OhbKRKjncTOS8ezY3HL4fTlUsYvuEo3jFEQprcZ_RrID-TT5FKxD43rWpA9cUJuf6JQUodZ9Juo_3U49nvDllC_PKw/s320/P1013596.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Tree in leaf, my birthday in May</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrvZX3CZZCIhmIF78xSApkNYqb6fUMJ2154GSoBAuS7c5bCe9mffeZnE4kPJJPsehfxG-ZwBbW5E3Y3oEhfQntIb4IoNEk-fpWeLtaRYebAQ850v9c5qRUJJ8YVTgL1t6hgW-x_Q0e-_no6WQqZs2ojdM6ZY4Hq7w90nQoKNmxBgvbi3hPkc38-b-Zow/s5184/P1014231.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="5184" data-original-width="3888" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrvZX3CZZCIhmIF78xSApkNYqb6fUMJ2154GSoBAuS7c5bCe9mffeZnE4kPJJPsehfxG-ZwBbW5E3Y3oEhfQntIb4IoNEk-fpWeLtaRYebAQ850v9c5qRUJJ8YVTgL1t6hgW-x_Q0e-_no6WQqZs2ojdM6ZY4Hq7w90nQoKNmxBgvbi3hPkc38-b-Zow/s320/P1014231.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Aquilegia and hover fly in June</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlsEQ9wRHkyRLGLyyLxBTOhLFwldwYJ-DvP6NBtmQAyGIJjRpEfoDMnvKsD0WOaJGQNtJtQGAVyGFjNIqyfmqdkPo95RqAuVwx0SUm4HlR2wHXfnWvV6ituXyY0wB69-hfLQLDLXoiIQ6-087wuRWkZBwVWx9LK4AXGP2Jz7QGUzqNx3NUmgzkzxh2Mg/s4054/P1014558v2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4054" data-original-width="3648" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlsEQ9wRHkyRLGLyyLxBTOhLFwldwYJ-DvP6NBtmQAyGIJjRpEfoDMnvKsD0WOaJGQNtJtQGAVyGFjNIqyfmqdkPo95RqAuVwx0SUm4HlR2wHXfnWvV6ituXyY0wB69-hfLQLDLXoiIQ6-087wuRWkZBwVWx9LK4AXGP2Jz7QGUzqNx3NUmgzkzxh2Mg/s320/P1014558v2.JPG" width="288" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dahlia and heather posy in July</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHFPesr95Ol-rcIHZ8LkYNkOd5iQ_DxQ5smGUm-uKNLNVFFFSLKs60MmyPiDZXIMfKUUeoaygZ0EDu6UPA0DNPi83xWthtfzGFpVHEpqIZv_VyULzauT5l-SFdo7LBXlHqNjm3JfosvVW0_bm22kQX0T6iQM4zFjjML2CsE4SleEOLmErmbK3cYTdZhg/s5184/P1014996.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3888" data-original-width="5184" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHFPesr95Ol-rcIHZ8LkYNkOd5iQ_DxQ5smGUm-uKNLNVFFFSLKs60MmyPiDZXIMfKUUeoaygZ0EDu6UPA0DNPi83xWthtfzGFpVHEpqIZv_VyULzauT5l-SFdo7LBXlHqNjm3JfosvVW0_bm22kQX0T6iQM4zFjjML2CsE4SleEOLmErmbK3cYTdZhg/s320/P1014996.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Echinacea and bees in August</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVmWpWiTp_iphSGQ0ySWAcKebW_aFR_DXcisIoKhF97EBdByrsWP2LZ7Kj01e2ze2-wZwZmr1LFezvrA0HlzuaDd3atreu6hLntJUXYiY84-nNZVFPNkHqkQjuOWIZiwOIMulYjpnxW8BVTT5k5X8YdAjxqjvy10VwZJOC9UEhrtEKk-9Vw0MTAf-HoA/s4973/P1015284.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3729" data-original-width="4973" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVmWpWiTp_iphSGQ0ySWAcKebW_aFR_DXcisIoKhF97EBdByrsWP2LZ7Kj01e2ze2-wZwZmr1LFezvrA0HlzuaDd3atreu6hLntJUXYiY84-nNZVFPNkHqkQjuOWIZiwOIMulYjpnxW8BVTT5k5X8YdAjxqjvy10VwZJOC9UEhrtEKk-9Vw0MTAf-HoA/s320/P1015284.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sunrise in Roscoff, September</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgv57r-HU6vlH-PTiOsciZnTKpHLRs0BITq5EsS9dIq-mHPwaNIdEsEORNg96cmllBWv6aIVnbC5EtiDZuW-foQllgN83KPKD_pO_cDlQBSWIlf0zJkqIaZJqwq87TWz95bnBtXY6e5-hIjdfM4E0s6lkd8t9Bzt6QdgHuKROSuQmqk8AFAUg93a_3BAA/s5184/P1025536.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="5184" data-original-width="3888" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgv57r-HU6vlH-PTiOsciZnTKpHLRs0BITq5EsS9dIq-mHPwaNIdEsEORNg96cmllBWv6aIVnbC5EtiDZuW-foQllgN83KPKD_pO_cDlQBSWIlf0zJkqIaZJqwq87TWz95bnBtXY6e5-hIjdfM4E0s6lkd8t9Bzt6QdgHuKROSuQmqk8AFAUg93a_3BAA/s320/P1025536.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Late Dahlia in October</td></tr></tbody></table><div><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibQQExk7pDzGKcoyOf5U1URSmO1Ehop8G037RRRdMbQ4ImTulSSFe7txjHZJ76tXkYct9TPlvZxf0f-d942HPzVD5jkzCIyY6oZW_2fTvhLG9ddPy9LlLsaRxAPtxU6HAhfBF1OR-gi8_-egKbxTV2X8qWldRPjY8rJtBOyOjUEbSuZT6Lln632UDzkg/s5184/P1025788.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="5184" data-original-width="3888" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibQQExk7pDzGKcoyOf5U1URSmO1Ehop8G037RRRdMbQ4ImTulSSFe7txjHZJ76tXkYct9TPlvZxf0f-d942HPzVD5jkzCIyY6oZW_2fTvhLG9ddPy9LlLsaRxAPtxU6HAhfBF1OR-gi8_-egKbxTV2X8qWldRPjY8rJtBOyOjUEbSuZT6Lln632UDzkg/s320/P1025788.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Tree on a walk in November</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhc0vD8M8P0BcoJ5CmFGWhTZ3EKQXRL2g4W1F6dy88vStucSFVjVJ3Ic1RuYidkRcpokEO22uRBwBvmLpAsc8Ok-9U5ZAHa2RzT2fejIwdX_fRnkxL_UxAikSySR4d8vuxmNhsVqV-JaIbXTq7PPGbxOs9epL-F_t2JZVOoEo0hFEPuPsn4T1o8tYdIHg/s5184/P1025923.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="5184" data-original-width="3888" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhc0vD8M8P0BcoJ5CmFGWhTZ3EKQXRL2g4W1F6dy88vStucSFVjVJ3Ic1RuYidkRcpokEO22uRBwBvmLpAsc8Ok-9U5ZAHa2RzT2fejIwdX_fRnkxL_UxAikSySR4d8vuxmNhsVqV-JaIbXTq7PPGbxOs9epL-F_t2JZVOoEo0hFEPuPsn4T1o8tYdIHg/s320/P1025923.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Old trees in December</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div style="text-align: center;">***</div><div><br /></div><div>I read more than seventy books in 2022 - but this is an average for me! Glancing back across the titles, I'm struck by the number of 'comfort reads' I have chosen, as well as several which I found uninspiring and the odd couple unfinished. The phrase 'lose yourself in a book' did not really describe my reading, other than for one or two exceptional reads. I blame the uncertain times for this. Reading can be a form of escapism, but I believe my attention span is not as good as it once was, and I don't think this is due to my age. Many of you have told me you have experienced the same thing, particularly during the pandemic. Could it also be that there are fewer really engrossing stories? Several of my favourite authors wrote series' sequels in the last couple of years which have not (in my opinion) maintained the same depth of plot or characters as before. Since I have made little progress on my own third novel, I'm a fine one to talk, but I fear the same kind of malaise is affecting the writing community as the staleness infecting society as a whole, and which I touched on above. So I hope to start writing again over the next few weeks, and perhaps to change my early attempts at book three to make it altogether a better story! We shall see. In the meantime, here are three suggestions from my best reads of 2022:</div><div><br /></div><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0 0 0 40px; padding: 0px;"><div><div style="text-align: left;">Coming Home<span> </span><span> </span><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Rosamunde Pilcher</div></div></blockquote><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0 0 0 40px; padding: 0px;"><div><div style="text-align: left;">Signal Moon<span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Kate Quinn</div></div></blockquote><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0 0 0 40px; padding: 0px;"><div><div style="text-align: left;">The Night Gate<span> </span><span> </span><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Peter May</div></div></blockquote><p>One old, two new. Let me know if you enjoy them too!</p><p>Finally a couple of quotes which I want to include in this blog post. The first is from 'Ultimate Prizes' by one of my favourite authors, Susan Howatch:</p><p><i>'Life's not about the day when you win the prizes - it's about all the days in between.'</i></p><p>And this one to make you smile, from Douglas Adams 'The Restaurant at the End of the Universe':</p><p><i>'The story so far: In the beginning the Universe was created. This has made a lot of people very angry and been widely regarded as a bad move.'</i></p><p>Whatever January may bring, stay well and enjoy each day.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjM5JMGYDBmPzP60ZgacKzOiQJs-08HOJ4ZYMUVEie1ujGam5YLwZHNgRj6JDgTbfSu2sWpO7gt6TYKid3VUUWKlyUJE8SWY4JcIsIAGrUKKtWvIPPQznm0hy7hsHZ5kYFrmEcFkqaFNN0GkWotHHAO_4iPLrgLjFLOx7UG_h3pcvw3uFp_84HpOGVkfQ/s4320/P1010874%20(2).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2880" data-original-width="4320" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjM5JMGYDBmPzP60ZgacKzOiQJs-08HOJ4ZYMUVEie1ujGam5YLwZHNgRj6JDgTbfSu2sWpO7gt6TYKid3VUUWKlyUJE8SWY4JcIsIAGrUKKtWvIPPQznm0hy7hsHZ5kYFrmEcFkqaFNN0GkWotHHAO_4iPLrgLjFLOx7UG_h3pcvw3uFp_84HpOGVkfQ/w640-h426/P1010874%20(2).JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p> </p>P R Fordhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09634848272422307580noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8792902209446838780.post-10036629989171012052022-10-27T17:19:00.001+01:002022-10-27T17:19:21.708+01:00FINDING AUTUMN COLOUR - A SHORT WALK<p> I dragged myself out for a walk 'round the block' on this dampest of October afternoons, grabbing the camera as I left. I had noticed some beautifully coloured shrubs in neighbours' gardens the other day, and I wanted to snap them before all the leaves disappeared. Many of these plants are a fair age, clearly planted by people with knowledge and imagination who knew how they would look in maturity. It's worth remembering how many trees and shrubs outlive their owners, sometimes by decades and even - in extreme cases - hundreds of years.</p><p>The close where I live runs in the shape of a large, reversed number nine, with eighty or so houses - a useful walk if you don't want to go too far or for too long, or when the skies are threatening.</p><p>Here is some of the colour I photographed and which I find so uplifting on an autumn day when spirits may be faltering.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAxQqadtBg0LFarOPbrQ8i-l1iguapY4wsezLrT3ZfvlAZ6y4VKkm8RLUmtpt5h6cmSCYYgR2z-a50QN5FgGKZkA7u-bhPHFFXpzRo_tsdx3HIgsuqKLARWswPLznYGVoyEXQDJBtAjQNBer_ZuTv75iSx7ZHXiTjsIufMypVSGUF1aI-FSEH5WZ-WZw/s5184/P1025592v2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="5184" data-original-width="3888" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAxQqadtBg0LFarOPbrQ8i-l1iguapY4wsezLrT3ZfvlAZ6y4VKkm8RLUmtpt5h6cmSCYYgR2z-a50QN5FgGKZkA7u-bhPHFFXpzRo_tsdx3HIgsuqKLARWswPLznYGVoyEXQDJBtAjQNBer_ZuTv75iSx7ZHXiTjsIufMypVSGUF1aI-FSEH5WZ-WZw/w480-h640/P1025592v2.jpg" width="480" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZytmADQalxyaSvrOd3s4NmK5wvO28_j2OHZMBOwRh0aympKw_So13hVDgTUSBjV5tJDjW3y14kjU1Fq9eamqPkPcu9W8c6N_MFd4VMSxAzgytvmEQIukg4_op0CMklgogxCd9IH_WSuXR_H0eBP1uKWO9d6GDvRETGPl0axT4-nCW6ipIBcVDURLR2Q/s5184/P1025595.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3888" data-original-width="5184" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZytmADQalxyaSvrOd3s4NmK5wvO28_j2OHZMBOwRh0aympKw_So13hVDgTUSBjV5tJDjW3y14kjU1Fq9eamqPkPcu9W8c6N_MFd4VMSxAzgytvmEQIukg4_op0CMklgogxCd9IH_WSuXR_H0eBP1uKWO9d6GDvRETGPl0axT4-nCW6ipIBcVDURLR2Q/w400-h300/P1025595.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqchyaSgpWqKVIzv_ES72233XoxhJCkecCpgc5P3Bu6nvo2GU5bkLT07rmgO7c9LtXzOl2oB3JMJvFPoR-g8uHcAmkpBrjCv7tj4vIEA6JUaOuBEUBoC9TJkcZ8Ak6l5d8TA5TS8lz3ecYxnJM49Zl5y2HaK6rf92aKP4s_5MlN5adiX6CNAVd2H5Gpg/s5184/P1025596.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3888" data-original-width="5184" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqchyaSgpWqKVIzv_ES72233XoxhJCkecCpgc5P3Bu6nvo2GU5bkLT07rmgO7c9LtXzOl2oB3JMJvFPoR-g8uHcAmkpBrjCv7tj4vIEA6JUaOuBEUBoC9TJkcZ8Ak6l5d8TA5TS8lz3ecYxnJM49Zl5y2HaK6rf92aKP4s_5MlN5adiX6CNAVd2H5Gpg/w400-h300/P1025596.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjX43c66IcZZn8A9UNXPtl1xaDGdr72Sy28V9MucG0Y_6rli4pqhUV5UEkKTfuAMu-sXmAnNgjSk-gJODc6FTN-gp_MOR9PllxkGUDm2H1AuwlSMcG3gmbUkC1nK7B_dOPZCw5FuWFB328vLiefskSPrXntIewG2tGSUadeUQYMc4dc9TdtGeCocZDdsw/s5184/P1025597.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3888" data-original-width="5184" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjX43c66IcZZn8A9UNXPtl1xaDGdr72Sy28V9MucG0Y_6rli4pqhUV5UEkKTfuAMu-sXmAnNgjSk-gJODc6FTN-gp_MOR9PllxkGUDm2H1AuwlSMcG3gmbUkC1nK7B_dOPZCw5FuWFB328vLiefskSPrXntIewG2tGSUadeUQYMc4dc9TdtGeCocZDdsw/w400-h300/P1025597.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjW79oyoU4dMjnRxCOA78IsxOJQWMyvOAqFDluK31F3l0Si809ANwZ3mh2KfBaEKoYVZmkbNQD3qly7CK45f76PXpuwSR2QiFF9aYTJ3OtL0iRc1r5FlZVXrxRjY2_zoCZ7NjyXsyFFTRMAH9mrblAF3lj_jhVvQT9zXNrR5m8LkjPgOp-_Ao7SgUFrQ/s5184/P1025602.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="5184" data-original-width="3888" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjW79oyoU4dMjnRxCOA78IsxOJQWMyvOAqFDluK31F3l0Si809ANwZ3mh2KfBaEKoYVZmkbNQD3qly7CK45f76PXpuwSR2QiFF9aYTJ3OtL0iRc1r5FlZVXrxRjY2_zoCZ7NjyXsyFFTRMAH9mrblAF3lj_jhVvQT9zXNrR5m8LkjPgOp-_Ao7SgUFrQ/w480-h640/P1025602.JPG" width="480" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTHSgov2MjnsH1_kABrD7aM_s8zmlIFOUHydUvlon7mgMbG6f8mggBQ069Nkv-4pyINxpqdVOq6RWCi8pDwMYZaKnY7e_CF-SamMI8T1wudrcXldHg0UqtWRgR1SRuXBc7dRvI1r8LkKAPrNdyJn7nYtCX7zg00nT709rGk-NgiD6LXSCDM9jCijH7jg/s5184/P1025605v2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3888" data-original-width="5184" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTHSgov2MjnsH1_kABrD7aM_s8zmlIFOUHydUvlon7mgMbG6f8mggBQ069Nkv-4pyINxpqdVOq6RWCi8pDwMYZaKnY7e_CF-SamMI8T1wudrcXldHg0UqtWRgR1SRuXBc7dRvI1r8LkKAPrNdyJn7nYtCX7zg00nT709rGk-NgiD6LXSCDM9jCijH7jg/w400-h300/P1025605v2.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div>The fuchsia hedge at no. 49 (fourth photo above) is quite magnificent this year. We are fortunate here in the South West that the milder climate allows many varieties of fuchsia to grow outdoors all the year round and survive winter temperatures which are less severe than elsewhere. The same can probably be said for the gorgeous Japanese Maples in the first and third photographs (above). Going back to the photo of the fuchsia hedge, it is rather depressing to see that the council has plans to dig up the pavement yet again, having already made a very poor attempt a few months ago!<div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJksqqs8qd4i3_PKd6lsznyQbFYnIpcLZtMsctLDaHEjKuBNlh_xLpjc9YyBYoqIqxijgssLrl_Y78n2RMp4nGELAhl4DgqfGwteL10OHRqtzIOAiWCsNrYavngr_EbGpgnw5hNb9sdc6fKWVsMl7HwvJqdq1vUuzoY6BuizKprAotMlckE2WoBMPufg/s5184/P1025610.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="5184" data-original-width="3888" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJksqqs8qd4i3_PKd6lsznyQbFYnIpcLZtMsctLDaHEjKuBNlh_xLpjc9YyBYoqIqxijgssLrl_Y78n2RMp4nGELAhl4DgqfGwteL10OHRqtzIOAiWCsNrYavngr_EbGpgnw5hNb9sdc6fKWVsMl7HwvJqdq1vUuzoY6BuizKprAotMlckE2WoBMPufg/w300-h400/P1025610.JPG" width="300" /></a></div><div><br /></div>This different variety of fuchsia (above) is rather pretty with its long flowers. The oak (?) tree below is a very old, huge tree which stands not far from our garden. <br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTcY43OrqBLF3Pk7oJHS-zASEVdOkTLvdbPu69y-xQRYss-FXIP0a9ZRGGWMMdzchKoKlBIAIkvi354DuaPkmwmaQRPwJGuRB8DE76208A3Yw7WpBNwpiAIYQJfebN8u6bfGnGXciwxA_FMNf0O43HGTzFur8dPHKic1AzZbW8TX2thu3V6_dABSflMQ/s5184/P1025612.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="5184" data-original-width="3888" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTcY43OrqBLF3Pk7oJHS-zASEVdOkTLvdbPu69y-xQRYss-FXIP0a9ZRGGWMMdzchKoKlBIAIkvi354DuaPkmwmaQRPwJGuRB8DE76208A3Yw7WpBNwpiAIYQJfebN8u6bfGnGXciwxA_FMNf0O43HGTzFur8dPHKic1AzZbW8TX2thu3V6_dABSflMQ/w300-h400/P1025612.JPG" width="300" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjlqbf7AOToh25WJT2kzFlqEOQPo03JYWAIjGrrGU2do_IOQVldLfTFghmaNErlCC5n_PZMMrWrjKV_3OAcTQg826-UQUs0a91Egd3Q6x6TLaxqyO-pvxgHW9lUg88lbVsSb2uuV2Yi-9xgNoc1W2QY9XxfgV9aVFxvr6l78ruNlIOfZ6-gpOWeO5i5A/s5184/P1025616.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3888" data-original-width="5184" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjlqbf7AOToh25WJT2kzFlqEOQPo03JYWAIjGrrGU2do_IOQVldLfTFghmaNErlCC5n_PZMMrWrjKV_3OAcTQg826-UQUs0a91Egd3Q6x6TLaxqyO-pvxgHW9lUg88lbVsSb2uuV2Yi-9xgNoc1W2QY9XxfgV9aVFxvr6l78ruNlIOfZ6-gpOWeO5i5A/s320/P1025616.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjTyXYrPL9J4bUxzTE1ltcqraUBrwEut7HvgDOeGdMN-MIW11ISXKJfq2O-Fbvy1Y7hltyXj4-3E8SOtIpqxKoNqPoz_1mfU9jkb9s_E_f4EfZ0EcBGxsVi6MC_C6wdLl3H_mhUy56thOdwCvq7xJNAhBDS42wqnOEFQ_ujri3Alwl5PqqzW8Ge_XDwg/s3956/P1025617.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3956" data-original-width="3452" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjTyXYrPL9J4bUxzTE1ltcqraUBrwEut7HvgDOeGdMN-MIW11ISXKJfq2O-Fbvy1Y7hltyXj4-3E8SOtIpqxKoNqPoz_1mfU9jkb9s_E_f4EfZ0EcBGxsVi6MC_C6wdLl3H_mhUy56thOdwCvq7xJNAhBDS42wqnOEFQ_ujri3Alwl5PqqzW8Ge_XDwg/w349-h400/P1025617.JPG" width="349" /></a></div><br /><div><br /><div>The Council has not cleaned our roads or cleared the pavements for a very long time, hence some quite interesting plants like the teasel above growing right beside the road, and surviving in all weathers! The Nerine lily above it is one of several I passed on my walk today, and every year I tell myself I must plant some - only to forget until they bloom the following year. They are a lovely bright surprise on a gloomy day.</div><div><br /></div><div>BACK TO THE GARDEN and I braved the sodden lawn to discover many more flowers than I expected have survived the awful winds and rain we've been experiencing in the last couple of weeks, including some last roses.</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdmWRon-D7wF7wiZaIxqiJjnrXMTfFNlahSbZe5hdjWj6C9MeEMfO975pd7saLJQzAMbrsdUVQkT1ymc0VwfzTI_k914OjmBTEsfr9BKzp0ibQnyW60i_rcFnCHxd1E_p5t8X3lbJZk993Q3MvB-8WIcHqX5EUcmddmMspbd-qtF_qHyaAQNgx7oYX9A/s5184/P1025623.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3888" data-original-width="5184" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdmWRon-D7wF7wiZaIxqiJjnrXMTfFNlahSbZe5hdjWj6C9MeEMfO975pd7saLJQzAMbrsdUVQkT1ymc0VwfzTI_k914OjmBTEsfr9BKzp0ibQnyW60i_rcFnCHxd1E_p5t8X3lbJZk993Q3MvB-8WIcHqX5EUcmddmMspbd-qtF_qHyaAQNgx7oYX9A/w640-h480/P1025623.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwgKAtXTCIvDsYlvuMtLbAue6HTPb25kb1uirYvHOvePiEIKnLt0Is7ZYXNeRY0z-lGnIm6dL8YNiUc7dncd4IHqVP7yc1yfTAI7IvDKk4wXBcNDr5Iz_V6KXxJ8Zmo06zsZh-zsYR8thXq1pKu-B7d-96A1czdOt6u2vLXUj1KlwEIrS4gKd-ebcyFA/s5184/P1025625.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3888" data-original-width="5184" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwgKAtXTCIvDsYlvuMtLbAue6HTPb25kb1uirYvHOvePiEIKnLt0Is7ZYXNeRY0z-lGnIm6dL8YNiUc7dncd4IHqVP7yc1yfTAI7IvDKk4wXBcNDr5Iz_V6KXxJ8Zmo06zsZh-zsYR8thXq1pKu-B7d-96A1czdOt6u2vLXUj1KlwEIrS4gKd-ebcyFA/w400-h300/P1025625.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirXFiPT4_SbkAp-BvL4pzCO0eZ2hNF_AERT4F7EaBVBuYyJF2lzsWbiaK74NuSUYiAuowqBqAhoUswqbmlCDbVZk_X6NITlCe8xg_XmWjTq-zzdQOXKvL5xCek2z4S0PSaGkU-8t692ziWM06-iKsiASdwEYeq7O7WrUzPjovRk0mBy9S6A5StddBnkQ/s5184/P1025626.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3888" data-original-width="5184" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirXFiPT4_SbkAp-BvL4pzCO0eZ2hNF_AERT4F7EaBVBuYyJF2lzsWbiaK74NuSUYiAuowqBqAhoUswqbmlCDbVZk_X6NITlCe8xg_XmWjTq-zzdQOXKvL5xCek2z4S0PSaGkU-8t692ziWM06-iKsiASdwEYeq7O7WrUzPjovRk0mBy9S6A5StddBnkQ/w400-h300/P1025626.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggdJSLYD63ZWkTGyfsvuJ6muNlwF5aKBV2eaT9_RmHqFcI-p5ub5ZYeNciMcppvaJo7XOKX0Cr9il50Fxp5mbgNY9hsgWCXr5quG6hpJev7RwUFg7gb4noqyfgjXq_ni1n4ATkDadHaLen9YrCvII1_IsI4omN_g1cVqit_RHUIqBE3dKFf9g6XDab3Q/s5184/P1025637.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="5184" data-original-width="3888" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggdJSLYD63ZWkTGyfsvuJ6muNlwF5aKBV2eaT9_RmHqFcI-p5ub5ZYeNciMcppvaJo7XOKX0Cr9il50Fxp5mbgNY9hsgWCXr5quG6hpJev7RwUFg7gb4noqyfgjXq_ni1n4ATkDadHaLen9YrCvII1_IsI4omN_g1cVqit_RHUIqBE3dKFf9g6XDab3Q/w480-h640/P1025637.JPG" width="480" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg94aU3VVI3fZlH8npuXVtntLeYjXle3xsfMS6kDiqTHToxpA6Jbgiqea0-D6Rfo5dtyr6PkZXKJX7afPLJevtEmu863VEoEMgqHEQxYRb16bJOvHLXdgrtah_1w9pLGjN2fVb0cObKyevbXx4oIKv-GzOsgMY4d0ylS894HBg52PLIveaAgr_KvgI-xw/s5184/P1025644.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3888" data-original-width="5184" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg94aU3VVI3fZlH8npuXVtntLeYjXle3xsfMS6kDiqTHToxpA6Jbgiqea0-D6Rfo5dtyr6PkZXKJX7afPLJevtEmu863VEoEMgqHEQxYRb16bJOvHLXdgrtah_1w9pLGjN2fVb0cObKyevbXx4oIKv-GzOsgMY4d0ylS894HBg52PLIveaAgr_KvgI-xw/w400-h300/P1025644.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><br /><br /><div><br /></div><div>This is a brief post to update you on what is happening here. I'm off now to put the kettle on! Take care, everyone.</div><div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtl5WCBMr15znFvO5iwXz2G_30VYNhtyn6yV3Ek35XRV4sdr78CyGcToc6wP4O-9TOSiKS2N15Zs4s45MV0wWR4EhhRbueRDGElv6M_w3x_NhRmo4PmV-HjuR2jmWfIRKSb_HBXM6l_MBvP7H0NmhoKWteufz6WUIb8PkCdhn6mDdwxv91K4n40biVuw/s5184/P1025646.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="5184" data-original-width="3888" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtl5WCBMr15znFvO5iwXz2G_30VYNhtyn6yV3Ek35XRV4sdr78CyGcToc6wP4O-9TOSiKS2N15Zs4s45MV0wWR4EhhRbueRDGElv6M_w3x_NhRmo4PmV-HjuR2jmWfIRKSb_HBXM6l_MBvP7H0NmhoKWteufz6WUIb8PkCdhn6mDdwxv91K4n40biVuw/w300-h400/P1025646.JPG" width="300" /></a></div></div></div>P R Fordhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09634848272422307580noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8792902209446838780.post-7237454759501619332022-10-04T20:06:00.001+01:002022-10-04T20:06:25.257+01:00UNCERTAINTY<p> When I wrote my blog post ‘Milestones’ back in May, we were celebrating the Platinum Jubilee of the reign of H.M. Queen Elizabeth II. Who could have predicted that she would live for only a few more months before dying on 8th September at the grand age of ninety-six? When people reach extreme old age their remaining years are numbered, but for those of us left behind who have known them for all of our lives, there is still a sense of shock and disbelief. Everything changes in an instant, and we will take time to adapt to a new regime and reign.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-5lr8mmCBtMpcNEsfmtCttTMI7XhcHa_nDxHutQnjO4tu6YXoH-jT99ggTHZLpnuWWsuGwxtWZTB4qQ1QzPpUvB6O9CBU7yxqhNc0evAjQa_P88xQHY2Wu-PQkxWkSXkvVd0PWu4iTIzhJdQ_Z1gl5ttXS5V2ec5jl8yQr6XgAN03xtXmuqG76PQ0CA/s3000/0M7A5806-1.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3000" data-original-width="2001" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-5lr8mmCBtMpcNEsfmtCttTMI7XhcHa_nDxHutQnjO4tu6YXoH-jT99ggTHZLpnuWWsuGwxtWZTB4qQ1QzPpUvB6O9CBU7yxqhNc0evAjQa_P88xQHY2Wu-PQkxWkSXkvVd0PWu4iTIzhJdQ_Z1gl5ttXS5V2ec5jl8yQr6XgAN03xtXmuqG76PQ0CA/w426-h640/0M7A5806-1.jpg" width="426" /></a></div><br /><p>This has been and continues to be a year of uncertainty. Here in the United Kingdom life has taken some strange turns, many of them serious, worrying and stressful for ordinary people. In July my other half and I decided that after three years we could wait no longer, and booked a short break to France in the middle of September. Little did we know that we would be travelling on the day of the late Queen’s funeral: a Monday which suddenly became a Bank Holiday. Fortunately our ferry sailed into the Channel on an overnight crossing which was the calmest I’ve ever known. Including the night on the ferry, we were only away for four nights, returning on the Friday evening, but the amount of paperwork needed to enter France was laughable – and serious. I travelled with a wadge of documents for ourselves, the car, the insurances, the ferry and the hotel, fearful of being searched on the way out by Customs officers at the border (the car in front of us was fully searched) as well as on the return, with our pitiful bottles of wine, brandy and groceries.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2nRHha5DXu4rB-TW9MAgL0DoF2Au0gqHU2sd62u-UZeH-sdjX_QQYs_7ook7ZQTJtvX41kcTjdzQzwWksx3jQF_PQPYv-QDNF_Mg8ped4M0tikqN08V0UstvWivEw725kVBlcCD9vbTVsaXX90MyiTfDkldxA6s6Ec5MQlWmamhH_2lRNf8bYak8kdA/s1552/P1015195%20Customs.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1072" data-original-width="1552" height="221" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2nRHha5DXu4rB-TW9MAgL0DoF2Au0gqHU2sd62u-UZeH-sdjX_QQYs_7ook7ZQTJtvX41kcTjdzQzwWksx3jQF_PQPYv-QDNF_Mg8ped4M0tikqN08V0UstvWivEw725kVBlcCD9vbTVsaXX90MyiTfDkldxA6s6Ec5MQlWmamhH_2lRNf8bYak8kdA/s320/P1015195%20Customs.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p>I expect you are wondering whether it was worth all the hassle for such a short stay, and we pondered on this ourselves. I think it was, but it’s off-putting. We’d also had a week of silly ‘disasters’ prior to leaving, including two fraudulent transactions on our bank account, the final straw being the third time our rear number-plate fell off in the drive and needed to be secured with screws to take away the worry!</p><p>One of the best days, once we had settled in and done some shopping, was spent at a series of beaches along the northern French coast called Les Amiets. These are hard to find, and even the staff at the hotel were pushed to remember how to get there, one very kind lady called Caroline eventually writing down some key placenames on a map. My photos will show you what a treat the wide sandy beaches turned out to be, the unusual white sand interspersed at intervals with huge rocks and sprinkled with glistening shells.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjY-JyKlUy9n8CuRX5wYE__V11BAfbJgR35IB8ng4ROIAydIxSbB3mBnK0dnYseMOAMffUmlQcARqN26FdjyJXDB4AmkDAb81ectAU44e-J2lS3jFrRVxKiqaxhlQsuTHhdPAjDIlPU0kjYl_2PR2l7-qCfBqZRR_I81krtyfygtA5TxLeUX7gAExcE1A/s5043/P1025320.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3695" data-original-width="5043" height="468" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjY-JyKlUy9n8CuRX5wYE__V11BAfbJgR35IB8ng4ROIAydIxSbB3mBnK0dnYseMOAMffUmlQcARqN26FdjyJXDB4AmkDAb81ectAU44e-J2lS3jFrRVxKiqaxhlQsuTHhdPAjDIlPU0kjYl_2PR2l7-qCfBqZRR_I81krtyfygtA5TxLeUX7gAExcE1A/w640-h468/P1025320.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijV_iA_or6S9YLOjDHrFN0kRuc_nDDTyWyl2gizkcYdVyqC6jeo84jNYafDfKWiSEHSzaPEC1Bxhi5JL4Tixwjbkq69vRj4yposWyqj5EWEKT6zwP7QwjFskEfl_fKywj-qIGIscR3Qr14lFe-GLyNDIsbY98AfaG705ko5mx7sdiO-wMW9vXeRpvnCw/s5097/P1025339.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3771" data-original-width="5097" height="474" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijV_iA_or6S9YLOjDHrFN0kRuc_nDDTyWyl2gizkcYdVyqC6jeo84jNYafDfKWiSEHSzaPEC1Bxhi5JL4Tixwjbkq69vRj4yposWyqj5EWEKT6zwP7QwjFskEfl_fKywj-qIGIscR3Qr14lFe-GLyNDIsbY98AfaG705ko5mx7sdiO-wMW9vXeRpvnCw/w640-h474/P1025339.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEio2qlaj_ZEyqzlOtgZz9d10IMrqgBx4cas7xno7KuWEcTtQ1VfNyU8iYKLg_SaFhQN0WMe15UnZSxwJxKj9xdJDBwG22_AF0ZsNoTcmhEhNfKxMbyGDZOkUG2bBOIgTnLBPq5LURAtVsJaJN7QBrPO7ifQPHijeSaWWx3Z292XA1j5rpxCzPqFGDc9Og/s5184/P1025350.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="5184" data-original-width="3888" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEio2qlaj_ZEyqzlOtgZz9d10IMrqgBx4cas7xno7KuWEcTtQ1VfNyU8iYKLg_SaFhQN0WMe15UnZSxwJxKj9xdJDBwG22_AF0ZsNoTcmhEhNfKxMbyGDZOkUG2bBOIgTnLBPq5LURAtVsJaJN7QBrPO7ifQPHijeSaWWx3Z292XA1j5rpxCzPqFGDc9Og/w300-h400/P1025350.JPG" width="300" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><p>I should also show you some glimpses of the town of Roscoff where we stayed including the wonderful view of the sunrise from our hotel bedroom window:</p><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqsZULIV5nOT9PveVodke4fEyGrRT-gXogeolCO-79_kyNtZT3PmB-qQNhT0XRB6U6A3CMJxiQ6Yd6WL7FQcNIyijWertP6Jub5_MjBMhrUdTcRPtlQ-MzZR6tna5uZLDWb2kIgGRzH0OlSc6Hgqtd0kxgg4K1dvbvO0RU1IP23Si1VDZIRHGJ-iXthw/s5184/P1015293.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3888" data-original-width="5184" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqsZULIV5nOT9PveVodke4fEyGrRT-gXogeolCO-79_kyNtZT3PmB-qQNhT0XRB6U6A3CMJxiQ6Yd6WL7FQcNIyijWertP6Jub5_MjBMhrUdTcRPtlQ-MzZR6tna5uZLDWb2kIgGRzH0OlSc6Hgqtd0kxgg4K1dvbvO0RU1IP23Si1VDZIRHGJ-iXthw/w640-h480/P1015293.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="MsoTableGrid" style="border-collapse: collapse; border: none; mso-border-insideh: none; mso-border-insidev: none; mso-padding-alt: 0cm 5.4pt 0cm 5.4pt; mso-yfti-tbllook: 1184;">
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<td style="padding: 0cm 5.4pt; width: 225.4pt;" valign="top" width="301"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtzKbwQObKdqdqiRkUyGD5av4epz7Loc0hzaHJydCYHsOdCM-20mdgLbacScv8Exxv84PdnWB06nZCJpPxTEwFgE-Enal-0g-IC3zLqGql3v-YTiePux5LtwQHvee5bGv8Z5DcKqrBtbYmxLfbGQ9Nvqlk9Hpv38nYAaGG5KtQBbaCYEmmJ-1Jzz06gw/s5116/P1025318.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="5116" data-original-width="3797" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtzKbwQObKdqdqiRkUyGD5av4epz7Loc0hzaHJydCYHsOdCM-20mdgLbacScv8Exxv84PdnWB06nZCJpPxTEwFgE-Enal-0g-IC3zLqGql3v-YTiePux5LtwQHvee5bGv8Z5DcKqrBtbYmxLfbGQ9Nvqlk9Hpv38nYAaGG5KtQBbaCYEmmJ-1Jzz06gw/w237-h320/P1025318.JPG" width="237" /></a></div>
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</tbody></table></div><div><br /></div>The gargoyle is one of several carved into the front of an old house further along the street from our hotel - which incidentally is situated close to the beautiful church shown in the other photo.<div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>HOME AGAIN</div><div><br /></div><div>We arrived home late at night, having benefitted from another smooth crossing, and adapted to driving on the left hand side of the road again - at night!</div><div><br /></div><div>We had missed a lot of politics while we were away, including a mini-budget from a new Chancellor and a lot of restlessness and argument amongst the Press, the broadcasters and the government. It's always good to 'escape' for a while!</div><div><br /></div><div>Back in the garden, we are well into Autumn now, but this odd year of weather seems to have stimulated some of the plants which are still flowering strongly. Indeed, some of the Dahlias have only just begun to open their flowers and one which I had almost given up on will bloom any day. </div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfYI2pcWtCOO8M_1A6h_-80BoFazI48ydYXSAiqyvqZT_yZDqluzPdTd7KE69nh8aYN4LQ6hULg9ZtYGriYbGpy0069EXMOAQFypYjAID_-0cO7YTT9nXfKATnsfoHlCuGTAvzBvPAu2aYDKaY2tMDw9XXC6Du8MFzKePHtdejupZfXH4AITceWhvVOQ/s5184/P1025495.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3888" data-original-width="5184" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfYI2pcWtCOO8M_1A6h_-80BoFazI48ydYXSAiqyvqZT_yZDqluzPdTd7KE69nh8aYN4LQ6hULg9ZtYGriYbGpy0069EXMOAQFypYjAID_-0cO7YTT9nXfKATnsfoHlCuGTAvzBvPAu2aYDKaY2tMDw9XXC6Du8MFzKePHtdejupZfXH4AITceWhvVOQ/w640-h480/P1025495.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="MsoTableGrid" style="border-collapse: collapse; border: none; mso-border-insideh: none; mso-border-insidev: none; mso-padding-alt: 0cm 5.4pt 0cm 5.4pt; mso-yfti-tbllook: 1184;">
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<td style="padding: 0cm 5.4pt; width: 225.4pt;" valign="top" width="301"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2vXNrjZGVvSL1anRgq-KiEbAWM-IPzAdYf20ugWuYKrX4uiMpSiw-4IkQia157-HxskliW1c9_S_tWyLXJakwHrVkL3Qj6YDN3Hvh9ddzujdfQEnM5rwVjGxyYXJS_5LuDEXL2YSHyy9racUy2yK_BmZ67z6ZUFLUPkLqNFNM0Qcb_WMcS31bt9o7_Q/s5184/P1025514.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="5184" data-original-width="3888" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2vXNrjZGVvSL1anRgq-KiEbAWM-IPzAdYf20ugWuYKrX4uiMpSiw-4IkQia157-HxskliW1c9_S_tWyLXJakwHrVkL3Qj6YDN3Hvh9ddzujdfQEnM5rwVjGxyYXJS_5LuDEXL2YSHyy9racUy2yK_BmZ67z6ZUFLUPkLqNFNM0Qcb_WMcS31bt9o7_Q/w249-h320/P1025514.JPG" width="249" /></a></div>
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</tbody></table></div><br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLmS2EGQf7ztHwmCkQSX6PHYdlHs-49F3YEFFn8oRnNzrcFLGObkcJxhmKHF8GRhbBBUdgHeaHmC3Z5cuku9zoJSj2CivmpS9diwDlJLHKbcKfMCm1DYDeYJi_LE_ocuFxEhNhdLUvKCY4JLpLculojaqPi_KlgfoiY07CfO9ajsBYL4ASZji-741cXA/s5184/P1025523.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="5184" data-original-width="3888" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLmS2EGQf7ztHwmCkQSX6PHYdlHs-49F3YEFFn8oRnNzrcFLGObkcJxhmKHF8GRhbBBUdgHeaHmC3Z5cuku9zoJSj2CivmpS9diwDlJLHKbcKfMCm1DYDeYJi_LE_ocuFxEhNhdLUvKCY4JLpLculojaqPi_KlgfoiY07CfO9ajsBYL4ASZji-741cXA/w480-h640/P1025523.JPG" width="480" /></a></div><br /><div><br /></div><div>We've also had record numbers of tomatoes, and last weekend I spent many hours in the kitchen making (a first for me) home-made tomato ketchup. It's not a simple task, but my goodness it tastes delicious!</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUjlgyk6awXvCriKOA0XBYtUXtddY-NPL1A-BfvQ9V-ZwkmXdoZ57mbvF8TLJxn8o6lGXHk36hRhZNkdRLjZz6z5jPfYGFSeLICgi5gedgaa1K-e8oCyzX8ZBMxgri6q-YYVgG6tkJQpA9IJt7eNSz6INcnJpf-YOM8yqVHeBXcz1niaZ3yeN3NQj4tA/s5184/P1025476.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3888" data-original-width="5184" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUjlgyk6awXvCriKOA0XBYtUXtddY-NPL1A-BfvQ9V-ZwkmXdoZ57mbvF8TLJxn8o6lGXHk36hRhZNkdRLjZz6z5jPfYGFSeLICgi5gedgaa1K-e8oCyzX8ZBMxgri6q-YYVgG6tkJQpA9IJt7eNSz6INcnJpf-YOM8yqVHeBXcz1niaZ3yeN3NQj4tA/w320-h200/P1025476.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>BOOKS</div><div><br /></div><div>I read a couple of very disappointing books earlier in September, and then took on holiday one which I'd saved up for then: Robert Galbraith's new 'Strike' novel 'The Ink Black Heart'. This is a very long book, and it's certainly not one that everyone will enjoy - but I'm glued to it and whilst there is a lot of pretty awful language (necessary, some might say, for the plot) I have to say I'm thoroughly enjoying it. Would I recommend it? Not to everyone, but if you like this series you will love this latest one.</div><div><br /></div><div>In these times of uncertainty, unrest and confusion, where the whole world seems to be in turmoil, we need to stick together as families, friends and acquaintances, and hold fast to the good things in our lives - however small or trivial they may seem to be. That's it for now. Look after yourselves!</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9kZ5xAY2W2mppDtjiMwP7H3g70nTcoEN8No0_g34ZBNr-wqkbBIfMF_ckXWwXEiM1dGQMEYXWGamsOqrl4YUZesLAoLlhAYCEv2rUyI2h7WSReNllgE21q5z9JDxgi81pxcUL3jHlu_nwFOZOvrRRya32a9O8gTgA2_QDNQNvWL9uPstNUYyTaHHSOA/s5184/P1025459.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3888" data-original-width="5184" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9kZ5xAY2W2mppDtjiMwP7H3g70nTcoEN8No0_g34ZBNr-wqkbBIfMF_ckXWwXEiM1dGQMEYXWGamsOqrl4YUZesLAoLlhAYCEv2rUyI2h7WSReNllgE21q5z9JDxgi81pxcUL3jHlu_nwFOZOvrRRya32a9O8gTgA2_QDNQNvWL9uPstNUYyTaHHSOA/w640-h480/P1025459.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div><br /><br /><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div></div>P R Fordhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09634848272422307580noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8792902209446838780.post-18726571490018209752022-07-13T17:47:00.007+01:002022-07-15T10:33:27.258+01:00LANGUID<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifoQQoEXd5xF5nGdzxumtva5Y9s3z8oN_sYccNi8tGm6vIxGS21YxpljYIjIFReTs2svwBTsneq901RZSTxcZxD_ITmMwBL-HApqe-XiwGR4HRwUw04O7pN2F3Rp303-_c0aZiVBZT_q3iVlCgJQ5xPneJTRFlzg5Nh6fDnKB4DuEZm-z3D2-MrOaWnQ/s4054/P1014558v2.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4054" data-original-width="3648" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifoQQoEXd5xF5nGdzxumtva5Y9s3z8oN_sYccNi8tGm6vIxGS21YxpljYIjIFReTs2svwBTsneq901RZSTxcZxD_ITmMwBL-HApqe-XiwGR4HRwUw04O7pN2F3Rp303-_c0aZiVBZT_q3iVlCgJQ5xPneJTRFlzg5Nh6fDnKB4DuEZm-z3D2-MrOaWnQ/w576-h640/P1014558v2.JPG" width="576" /></a></div><br /><p class="MsoNormal">This morning I cut a few flowers to show the best of the garden at the moment. It seems a fair few weeks have passed since my last post, and the
hot weather we are currently experiencing has made me lazy and languid.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I’ve selected three dahlias, a small hydrangea flower and
some sweet peas to brighten your day. All my lavender bushes are loving the heat, so some fragrant sprigs have been added which I wish you could enjoy!<o:p></o:p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgm2sCDIL9W6Nv12Wm8qOitsKFMh2gpDcmEwdTgyKzSt8A0UwZe0AKkkmTU2qkfWJ3sibv5WJo29T8VERB_as9ZMDQUT-GbilmsCz1MsM2ZV50b5MzFxg_mak-VkRb3-5onLwivDOtFCm47J7_PtbWNW67hhdEXVKon_0vdtxPNZjO8gdXt_Mcgu_5mZQ/s5184/P1014560.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3888" data-original-width="5184" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgm2sCDIL9W6Nv12Wm8qOitsKFMh2gpDcmEwdTgyKzSt8A0UwZe0AKkkmTU2qkfWJ3sibv5WJo29T8VERB_as9ZMDQUT-GbilmsCz1MsM2ZV50b5MzFxg_mak-VkRb3-5onLwivDOtFCm47J7_PtbWNW67hhdEXVKon_0vdtxPNZjO8gdXt_Mcgu_5mZQ/w640-h480/P1014560.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>A quarter turn reveals the third dahlia</i></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p class="MsoNormal">The garden is wilting under both bright, hot sunlight as
well as sultry, overcast days. Watering and caring for my plants is both tiring
and time-consuming, but so important. I can only do both tasks at the beginning
and end of the day when the temperature allows. </p><p class="MsoNormal">Good things: despite the heat, everything is flourishing and there are dozens of tomatoes setting in the greenhouse. We've already enjoyed some green and yellow courgettes, and many, many punnets of raspberries, some of which I've frozen.</p><p class="MsoNormal">Not as good: the sweet peas aren't doing nearly as well as last year, despite being watered. Perhaps next year I'll try putting them in another position... two years running in the same place might have been a mistake. And while some of the dahlias are magnificent, others have dwindled to nothing and many have been shredded by slugs determined to defeat my efforts on that front!</p><p class="MsoNormal">Here are some of the new dahlias:</p><table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="MsoTableGrid" style="border-collapse: collapse; border: none; mso-border-insideh: none; mso-border-insidev: none; mso-padding-alt: 0cm 5.4pt 0cm 5.4pt; mso-yfti-tbllook: 1184;">
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</tbody></table>And not to be outdone, here are the Echinaceas I grew last year, together with a Zinnia which I'm trying for the first time this year:<div><br /></div><div><table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="MsoTableGrid" style="border-collapse: collapse; border: none; mso-border-insideh: none; mso-border-insidev: none; mso-padding-alt: 0cm 5.4pt 0cm 5.4pt; mso-yfti-tbllook: 1184;">
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</tbody></table></div><div><br /></div><div>LANHYDROCK HOUSE</div><div><br /></div><div>Just before the heat became extreme, we ventured across the border into Cornwall to visit a lovely National Trust property called Lanhydrock House. This was a 63 mile round trip - you have to take the fuel costs of an outing into account these days, and the entrance fee isn't cheap, but it was worth the visit for the grounds alone.</div><div><br /></div><div><table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="MsoTableGrid" style="border-collapse: collapse; border: none; mso-border-insideh: none; mso-border-insidev: none; mso-padding-alt: 0cm 5.4pt 0cm 5.4pt; mso-yfti-tbllook: 1184;">
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</tbody></table></div><div>Their planting is simple but very effective, perhaps a lesson for us all! I couldn't resist sneaking in the photo of me supporting the ancient 'Bodwen Cross'!</div><br />BOOKS<div><br /></div><div>Between this and my last post, I haven't read much to recommend to you. I trawled my way through Louise Penny's 'The Madness of Crowds' (no. 17 in her Chief Inspector Gamache series), and it left me cold. It was a hard read and I gave it this rather cold review:</div><div><br /></div><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><div><div><i>At last I've finished this book, after setting it aside and almost abandoning it. Why? I didn't enjoy reading it, and life is too short.</i></div></div><div><div><i><br /></i></div></div><div><div><i>This author really frustrates me. Her earlier novels in the series were so well written, but this is incomparable to those. Her style now is laboured, an effort to read. Her vocabulary is at times insulting to the reader, and her short sentences drove me mad. The plot seems thin, plucked from several social situations and twisted to fit the characters.</i></div></div><div><div><i><br /></i></div></div><div><div><i>I think I'm done with Louise Penny and the Gamache series. I'd rather remember the good and the best of her work than struggle through any more like this.</i></div></div><div><div><i><br /></i></div></div><div><div><i>Two stars. I won't be reading it again.</i></div></div></blockquote><div><div><i><br /></i></div><div>I also loathed Peter Lovesey's 'The Headhunters' to the extent that I set it aside, unfinished. I felt disappointed in this author, whose other work is incomparably better!</div><div><br /></div><div>So I can only recommend two books which may or may not appeal to you:</div><div>Rosamunde Pilcher's 'September' is a beautifully written novel set in Scotland, about three generations of a family coming together for a party. For me, this was a bit of a comfort read, but I enjoy her style.</div><div>Richard Osman's 'The Man who Died Twice' is the second in his 'Thursday Murder Club' series and as I'd enjoyed the first, I decided to embark upon the second. He writes with a quirky style which not everyone will find comfortable, but for me it's amusing and different, and most enjoyable.</div><div><br /></div><div>MOVING ON</div><div><br /></div><div>Here in GB we are in the midst of a headless government. With the increased numbers of people suffering from scary new variants of Covid, and the grimly ongoing war in Ukraine, life feels uncertain and very precious.</div><div><br /></div><div>Look after yourselves and if it's Summer where you are, enjoy it as much as you can. We are, I fear, in for a testing Winter! I leave you with some begonias, which suddenly appeared from almost nothing in an old pot in a corner of the greenhouse, having quietly survived the winter. Perhaps they are as good as a hug...</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6rgty2veg9zmTa4Akz_-Lyy2Bqd2YX1hqEZJLuthbKIsLNc5D67Ra4DtYNLXSctcNuTrnTj1MOZ4v07Z7A9wGMS-jYxzMDKrqboDrFsZ_rsqYbMTKAJvm-7tR6Njw-ia_VEiUeDGcGLDUlwDTwzyZoG4VVCYMEnVyYy-rCXx0CXyOwdFUcq0Zk8nFqw/s2074/P1014552%20Begonia.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1556" data-original-width="2074" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6rgty2veg9zmTa4Akz_-Lyy2Bqd2YX1hqEZJLuthbKIsLNc5D67Ra4DtYNLXSctcNuTrnTj1MOZ4v07Z7A9wGMS-jYxzMDKrqboDrFsZ_rsqYbMTKAJvm-7tR6Njw-ia_VEiUeDGcGLDUlwDTwzyZoG4VVCYMEnVyYy-rCXx0CXyOwdFUcq0Zk8nFqw/w400-h300/P1014552%20Begonia.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div><br /></div><br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div><br /></div><br /><br /><br /><div><br /><br /><br /><br /><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p></div></div>P R Fordhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09634848272422307580noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8792902209446838780.post-59342738505849866312022-05-18T17:02:00.002+01:002022-05-18T17:06:47.313+01:00MILESTONES<p>In February of 1952 King George VI died and was succeeded by his daughter Elizabeth. We are now celebrating the Jubilee marking 70 years of her reign, a breathtaking and extraordinary milestone. I too will be celebrating in less than a week when my own ‘Jubilee’ birthday takes place, having been born in the same year. This is proving to be quite a difficult milestone to absorb. They say you are only ‘as old as you feel’, and although there are days when my arthritic hands ache and I feel about a hundred, I can’t bring myself to feel more than about thirty five when the sun is shining and the garden looks a treat.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5Cj_hBHv5Zav3X9EwVGX4qHaOEwSzNZyAmIaK7XnEI8q11mSDq2VDZ72p8-M7N2l0ISEC_fHsFTqezOlgxB4bP-aViZFKxlnu7Sp3kurii18zXLAMTpn6X9RthZQCXJxH7x_VAg3NSBVdNFFXCtWMgvtDbCvjLyfHRLuqMKYNom-UvNoO5Ha_R_hhjg/s5073/P1013398.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3296" data-original-width="5073" height="339" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5Cj_hBHv5Zav3X9EwVGX4qHaOEwSzNZyAmIaK7XnEI8q11mSDq2VDZ72p8-M7N2l0ISEC_fHsFTqezOlgxB4bP-aViZFKxlnu7Sp3kurii18zXLAMTpn6X9RthZQCXJxH7x_VAg3NSBVdNFFXCtWMgvtDbCvjLyfHRLuqMKYNom-UvNoO5Ha_R_hhjg/w522-h339/P1013398.JPG" width="522" /></a></div><br /><p>GARDENS</p><p>I would like to show you some of the gardens which have influenced my life, beginning with the one at a house in Buckinghamshire called ‘Berwyns’ where I was born. My mother hated hospitals and so both my brother and I came into the world at home. This first photo, taken at least ten years before I was born, shows my father in uniform standing in the garden of ‘Berwyns’ under a magnificent cherry tree. In the background you can just make out a lovely lawn and roses trained to grow up wooden stakes. One of my earliest memories is of this lawn, and my father mowing it with a terrible old pre-war mower which was so noisy that I used to run and hide when he started it up!</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgn3GoYHIecE8TJt8wrqljmO4exHDp6fJhgdiGHQtVXED2FgcvOf6xaN70j3l7BC02C6vYeVjScaxNbnsK1XV76w-7L9xhaS_bOYWukIRcn46WnrwpPjQL4xjgp5yaLhiMfC9JzCjJMND10RJ5ne0NnWFzYjFKJ84ERgrd_uZNvNTZmKGj3u9ZyKXdQ3g/s954/IMG_0009.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="954" data-original-width="643" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgn3GoYHIecE8TJt8wrqljmO4exHDp6fJhgdiGHQtVXED2FgcvOf6xaN70j3l7BC02C6vYeVjScaxNbnsK1XV76w-7L9xhaS_bOYWukIRcn46WnrwpPjQL4xjgp5yaLhiMfC9JzCjJMND10RJ5ne0NnWFzYjFKJ84ERgrd_uZNvNTZmKGj3u9ZyKXdQ3g/w270-h400/IMG_0009.jpg" width="270" /></a></div><br /><p>We moved from ‘Berwyns’ to a house in Little Chalfont where my brother was born in 1957. This garden was my father’s favourite, and also his passion. We children grew up playing in and around the trees and shrubs, inventing marvellous games and stories and practicing tennis, cricket and croquet on a sloping lawn which didn’t really work for ball games! The photo shows my father and brother mowing, the former using the same thunderous old mower from 'Berwyns', while my brother pushes a 'Suffolk Punch', purchased to take over from its predecessor which eventually ended up in Ransomes' museum.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8vWUgRYHbsUFScG7HQLFFsKnx_DcZnZmFBanTX-fjEcttTW8CBvoBJoxVV74tUfKMJCrOOdtGF5Q1OSKDnCttGAlBgmhH8N5Hkt7vRZxH7p9yJEBSdzxTFYWxcXK2O1NDxBQ5ysAqD8zVsb0uZyFjEiTklsoDr6ewOQQPY8oM86LZULrfhfA2MYT2vg/s1024/File0199-001.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="656" data-original-width="1024" height="410" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8vWUgRYHbsUFScG7HQLFFsKnx_DcZnZmFBanTX-fjEcttTW8CBvoBJoxVV74tUfKMJCrOOdtGF5Q1OSKDnCttGAlBgmhH8N5Hkt7vRZxH7p9yJEBSdzxTFYWxcXK2O1NDxBQ5ysAqD8zVsb0uZyFjEiTklsoDr6ewOQQPY8oM86LZULrfhfA2MYT2vg/w640-h410/File0199-001.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><p>Many years later when I moved to my tiny garden in Devon, I crammed as much into it as I possibly could. Over the years some beautiful shrubs and roses matured, and by the time we left I felt I could do no more to improve the little plot.</p><table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="MsoTableGrid" style="border-collapse: collapse; border: none; mso-border-insideh: none; mso-border-insidev: none; mso-padding-alt: 0cm 5.4pt 0cm 5.4pt; mso-yfti-tbllook: 1184;">
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</tbody></table>Now we live in Tavistock, and regular readers of this blog will be quite familiar with my garden as I always post photos. I can't resist showing you some highlights of this month, though! First: fruit, and this year for the first time we have more than a couple of gooseberries ripening. I think this is because I moved the bush into a better space where it has more light and air, and is not swamped by the redcurrant - which as you can see is already well into what looks like a bumper crop for a few weeks' time.<div><br /></div><div><table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="MsoTableGrid" style="border-collapse: collapse; border: none; mso-border-insideh: none; mso-border-insidev: none; mso-padding-alt: 0cm 5.4pt 0cm 5.4pt; mso-yfti-tbllook: 1184;">
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</tbody></table>My herb bed, which started out as a tiny triangular bed before I got the hang of 'large gardening' has grown huge, and the fennel (right) which is thriving will completely dominate it in a couple of months' time! In the background you can see the redcurrant, and many raspberries promising another good crop.<div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIJoFBWcYR9ynYNZRR4JKbszLVS2j6fr4gEjLQkMY9UOKst4ZwpmxFxPkgToIY_odOSuV8hbLDMLNUBu31YA3JKqeKqpCUECz5dpSqyRjlVlxCjU82L8xbf1jSpzZ1pGeWOIBaCiuy8u_8z8JnGp1Wv7q8cVUn9TfFZFKuTKdIzKXVNydXg1FFebbxLw/s2074/P1013471%20Herbs.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1556" data-original-width="2074" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIJoFBWcYR9ynYNZRR4JKbszLVS2j6fr4gEjLQkMY9UOKst4ZwpmxFxPkgToIY_odOSuV8hbLDMLNUBu31YA3JKqeKqpCUECz5dpSqyRjlVlxCjU82L8xbf1jSpzZ1pGeWOIBaCiuy8u_8z8JnGp1Wv7q8cVUn9TfFZFKuTKdIzKXVNydXg1FFebbxLw/w400-h300/P1013471%20Herbs.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div>The next photo gives a view of the main garden in a burst of sunlight a few days ago, showing a great deal of promise and also achievement after seven years' hard work!</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3Kp0MKb4J768hf7TtODOPesHsy1ko11oXDCBIAvcBfVVBFlUXnPh68XHIWMO68nynUIV4Tos_9-YY0x8l2xPNpQgoV8OphjwFq-ec0bWqmx1ZhuvptjJKGJuJ52o6owNYvghNurf17BW0w30XmtA-9fEBBwsV7mzH3Cq7UbUrkSgkGfX5H8hwSN8S6g/s1843/IMG_20220512_084000723%20Garden.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1843" data-original-width="1382" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3Kp0MKb4J768hf7TtODOPesHsy1ko11oXDCBIAvcBfVVBFlUXnPh68XHIWMO68nynUIV4Tos_9-YY0x8l2xPNpQgoV8OphjwFq-ec0bWqmx1ZhuvptjJKGJuJ52o6owNYvghNurf17BW0w30XmtA-9fEBBwsV7mzH3Cq7UbUrkSgkGfX5H8hwSN8S6g/w480-h640/IMG_20220512_084000723%20Garden.jpg" width="480" /></a></div><br /><div><br /><div>BOOKS</div><div><br /></div><div>I have a couple of recommendations for you this month. The first is a real brainstorming murder mystery by Anthony Horowitz called: 'Magpie Murders'. My review on Goodreads says simply:</div><div><div><i>'An outstanding 'whodunnit' which is structured like a layer cake - and just as indulgent!</i></div><div><i>Highly recommended.'</i></div></div><div><br /></div><div>The other may not suit everyone, but I can't stop recommending it: 'The Windsor Knot' by S J Bennett. I've said: <i>'Although this book is based around the year 2016, I found it very appropriate to read in this Jubilee year 2022. And it's a brilliant, witty, well-paced and well written story. I absolutely loved it. Everything about it is cleverly done and polished to perfection. I recommend this to anyone feeling a little low and in need of a good, cheering book. Five stars. Would I read it again? Definitely!'</i></div><div><br /></div><div>As this blog marks a milestone, I pondered whether to select a 'favourite book of all time' from my lists... but I couldn't choose one! I suppose I can only recommend one which I re-read whenever I feel particularly low, and it's probably rather dated now. The book is by Dick Francis: 'The Edge'. I personally think it stands the test of time extremely well. </div><div><br /></div><div>THE REST</div><div><br /></div><div>That's it for now. If you've made it this far, thank you for reading and for following my blog. Can I recommend to you a new blog about birds and nature by someone rather closely related to me, and who I thank for the final photo at the end of the piece: <a href="https://sharps-shots.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">Sharp's Shots</a></div><div><br /></div><div>Finally, as 'the birthday' approaches and I also ponder the difficulties which lie ahead for all of us, I think this little verse from William Shakespeare's 'The Winter's Tale' sums up my philosophy and all that needs to be said.</div><div><br /></div></div><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><div><div><div>Jog on, jog on, the footpath way,</div></div></div></blockquote><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><div><div><div>And merrily hent the stile-a:</div></div></div></blockquote><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><div><div><div>A merry heart goes all the day,</div></div></div></blockquote><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><div><div><div>Your sad tires in a mile-a.</div></div></div></blockquote></blockquote><div><div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>William Shakespeare</div><div>The Winter's Tale [1610-1611], IV, ii, 133</div></div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhC7oV8Rv62wQudHNRvZqsMZSXoinBYCPCgZ6GPJEw5qpR1fOT-Hq86JP-ftJ7G3Yks2BduUOtWCMR67D-UpoiLXIEBmdek0SnMcVq74cl6YVyPnNmIWh4mtfH2heZbvclN5--fu33cl0RgX0VbMqgTijWYbTJDwaGsJaF8Ylwb__1wOIatkWB6jFm9tA/s3000/0M7A2664-1.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1687" data-original-width="3000" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhC7oV8Rv62wQudHNRvZqsMZSXoinBYCPCgZ6GPJEw5qpR1fOT-Hq86JP-ftJ7G3Yks2BduUOtWCMR67D-UpoiLXIEBmdek0SnMcVq74cl6YVyPnNmIWh4mtfH2heZbvclN5--fu33cl0RgX0VbMqgTijWYbTJDwaGsJaF8Ylwb__1wOIatkWB6jFm9tA/w400-h225/0M7A2664-1.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><br /><div><br /><div><br /></div><div><br /><br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><p><br /></p><p> </p></div></div></div>P R Fordhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09634848272422307580noreply@blogger.com16tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8792902209446838780.post-35699813741155720062022-03-29T15:44:00.000+01:002022-03-29T15:44:08.730+01:00HEROES KNOWN AND UNKNOWN<p> Here we are at the end of March! I worked diligently on my latest book until 24th February, when the horror of war interrupted my flow, and for some reason I’ve been unable to revisit the manuscript or update my Blog – until now. </p><p>Let me share with you a few lines from Rudyard Kipling which seem to have found new meaning in the last few weeks. They come from his famous poem ‘If’.</p><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><div style="text-align: left;"><i><span style="font-size: medium;">‘If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew<br />To serve your turn long after they are gone.<br />And so hold on when there is nothing in you<br />Except the Will which says to them: ‘Hold on!’’</span></i></div></blockquote><p>These words, written in 1895, so accurately reflect our ability to endure suffering, especially under the terrible cloak of war. There will be many heroes, both recognised and lost, when this 21st century conflict ends.</p><p><br /></p><h2 style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">***</span></h2><h2 style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></h2><h2 style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium; font-weight: normal;">'THE FELLING OF THE FAMOUS YEW TREE'</span></h2><div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNoltCNgwrpasR1_0b-ATh9vamuEDBSer5JRWOqaTyZ0BmFVtM535lv-Ct4EfxEGDfybPNeJl-ytXjlZY1YKEjnVk0MZwYLj-MTb3gtPkbxTn2_qr3e7wWF1sHhbgs0nX3TtPqrmrrJ4B2BsFch_jZCRqpKpnFEiEEhIrjJv0mrrAjAWTY4uRKH5Zu4A/s3653/FELLING%20OF%20TREEv2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2155" data-original-width="3653" height="378" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNoltCNgwrpasR1_0b-ATh9vamuEDBSer5JRWOqaTyZ0BmFVtM535lv-Ct4EfxEGDfybPNeJl-ytXjlZY1YKEjnVk0MZwYLj-MTb3gtPkbxTn2_qr3e7wWF1sHhbgs0nX3TtPqrmrrJ4B2BsFch_jZCRqpKpnFEiEEhIrjJv0mrrAjAWTY4uRKH5Zu4A/w640-h378/FELLING%20OF%20TREEv2.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><p>For no particular reason I happened to be browsing through some of my late father’s old photographs, and this one caught my attention. A very special day for my eight-year-old father and his young brother Paul (five) is taking place in the garden of their Rectory home. An old yew tree has been cut down by my grandfather (with other help, I’m sure), and two special visitors have come to enjoy the event, one of whom is an aviator and WWI hero. I estimate the date to be 1918 or 1919, so it’s over 100 years old, a matte black and white affair, just an old family snap. Or so I thought, until I turned it over. On the back my father has written everything he wanted to remember about the occasion, in his careful best handwriting. You will forgive his mis-spelling of ‘Yew’!</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaPZYpkNcphjNZ2NiKOd0_LzF9Ve9yZfRer29O3QJ-aD_lLiSG_OIDjXfp7y7CDU1THdi_5Km2dVu9IsBgwQwjgBUBqOHAD8DkQCs28YJXWTsyHjALynF0eFBRlm1Rs1--c_2odYS6-5ctSFnPQq3S-AvmieBEnnBGSnZKZ2IGLABMLCwNIcDC8rOFtA/s4872/FELLING%20OF%20TREE%202.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2831" data-original-width="4872" height="254" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaPZYpkNcphjNZ2NiKOd0_LzF9Ve9yZfRer29O3QJ-aD_lLiSG_OIDjXfp7y7CDU1THdi_5Km2dVu9IsBgwQwjgBUBqOHAD8DkQCs28YJXWTsyHjALynF0eFBRlm1Rs1--c_2odYS6-5ctSFnPQq3S-AvmieBEnnBGSnZKZ2IGLABMLCwNIcDC8rOFtA/w436-h254/FELLING%20OF%20TREE%202.jpg" width="436" /></a></div><br /><p>The lady on the far right, ‘Mrs Learmount’ and her dog ‘Pongo’ struck me as interesting, because I had never heard anyone in the family mention them – and yet she appears to be enjoying her day with my grandparents and the two small boys (and their nanny), so much so that her husband (the hero) has set up a camera and taken the photograph. Further on in the collection I found another: same day, same people, but no handwriting on the back. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRHrws2DHCUZihdcv6PgfyRf9M164u2Y0MHqm9WUuta1XM0N_zZJjKKfjjUBFR1UEIWS0idhNAcLIdUUXM-BlBfsXRDvmIOsCuXmw17yUhIcRWPxncG5FTtyJ1SOeZ2o_Yb4Fkem7O6wXJaVi7FbjN9HqszdxbUV__xjhd1jx31zY7CsIIc21dAjIF2Q/s4800/File0944.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3317" data-original-width="4800" height="394" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRHrws2DHCUZihdcv6PgfyRf9M164u2Y0MHqm9WUuta1XM0N_zZJjKKfjjUBFR1UEIWS0idhNAcLIdUUXM-BlBfsXRDvmIOsCuXmw17yUhIcRWPxncG5FTtyJ1SOeZ2o_Yb4Fkem7O6wXJaVi7FbjN9HqszdxbUV__xjhd1jx31zY7CsIIc21dAjIF2Q/w570-h394/File0944.jpg" width="570" /></a></div><br /><p>In the light of the information that Major Learmount must be a hero about whom I should know more, I set to searching for him on the internet. Believe it or not, I did not have to look far to find him! Their grandson David Learmount has a website with an entire section devoted to the history of this remarkable man. He was indeed a First World War hero, and you can imagine how excited those two boys must have been to meet him. To quote David: 'Aviation was so new, and most people had never – or hardly ever – seen an aeroplane. It was only ten years earlier that Louis Bleriot had flown the channel and crashed on grass near Dover Castle, but having completed that simple flight he achieved absolute rock-star status in Britain, let alone France.'</p><p>I contacted David and we are now exchanging ideas about the possible connection between our families. The website is most interesting and I am adding a link to it at the end of this post – it’s well worth a look. Incidentally, neither David nor his family had ever seen or known about the photographs, but he was able to add the information that his grandparents married in May, 1918 so we estimate the date of the photos to be perhaps a few months after then or early in 1919. </p><p>There is a lesson to be learnt from this: always label your photographs! My father began doing so at a young age, and continued the habit throughout his life, even making odd notes on the card surrounds of slides.</p><h2 style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">***</span></h2><p style="text-align: center;"><b><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNaBhUwWKGaMP0noLCQAieYvoM1v8g9xXGKCPYwxEsytQA30FLZn8oWfVL9G2pviGxbZJEBW6NUkikQdib6DfWnBqaoYHDoZVFzwebQ10nXuB-TfVYz0lW59lvzze-SDXYTM0pukZLKWDhv9GijiimdcSHaT8pMFF1shTFlroOmz9onsM1b9IinZm6oA/s5184/P1013072.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="5184" data-original-width="3888" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNaBhUwWKGaMP0noLCQAieYvoM1v8g9xXGKCPYwxEsytQA30FLZn8oWfVL9G2pviGxbZJEBW6NUkikQdib6DfWnBqaoYHDoZVFzwebQ10nXuB-TfVYz0lW59lvzze-SDXYTM0pukZLKWDhv9GijiimdcSHaT8pMFF1shTFlroOmz9onsM1b9IinZm6oA/w480-h640/P1013072.JPG" width="480" /></a></b></p><b><br /></b><div><div>Our pear tree is in full bloom and the garden has benefited from a couple of weeks of warm, dry weather. This has enabled us to carry out many of the tasks which sometimes get overlooked at this time of year because of bad weather. I just hope the pear blossom survives the cold which has been forecast for later this week, or it will suffer the same fate as last year when it was all burnt off by the frost. I think you will agree, though, that the tree is worth having for the beauty of its blossom alone, and forget about the pears!</div><div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisUMUwfiwQsOFhDdV59q1houJxXN3UYRyw7HcpuW71UiEOBgfXOp_-zF5J44DtrYAUI5MDvS6GHeXwiwVydLEHvF8E7wPLhj3_IPYOU3uX_fwciRlObgn77TatKd2e5cPctbgQwgKsjApFvkbWeouAYH_wJlmTiKGpoQ2FNX_lRJe25cjSRv2HX0yYlg/s5184/P1013071.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="5184" data-original-width="3888" height="497" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisUMUwfiwQsOFhDdV59q1houJxXN3UYRyw7HcpuW71UiEOBgfXOp_-zF5J44DtrYAUI5MDvS6GHeXwiwVydLEHvF8E7wPLhj3_IPYOU3uX_fwciRlObgn77TatKd2e5cPctbgQwgKsjApFvkbWeouAYH_wJlmTiKGpoQ2FNX_lRJe25cjSRv2HX0yYlg/w373-h497/P1013071.JPG" width="373" /></a></div></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>I have read a number of books over the past couple of months, some of which were fairly mediocre and do not deserve recommendation. Two others stand out. I’ve just finished ‘The Man in the Bunker’ by Rory Clements (who usually sets his books in Tudor times) – an interesting take on Hitler’s possible survival in 1945, not for the faint-hearted, but a good and enjoyable ‘yarn’. I am now reading an old book: Margery Allingham’s thriller ‘The Tiger in the Smoke’ published in 1952. It’s not the easiest of reads: the style takes some getting used to, but her descriptive narrative is breath-taking and (for an author) enviable. I am only one third of the way through, but captivated by the whole thing.</div><div><br /></div><div>All for now. Let me know if you have found any good books to recommend, as I’m always on the look-out. Take care of yourselves, stay cheerful and enjoy the Spring weather - when you can!</div></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>Here is the link to David Learmount’s website. This link takes you straight to the section about his grandfather, which you need to follow through a number of 'episodes' to reach a photograph of him and his bride, who you will recognise from my photos above. The rest of the website is also extremely interesting for those keen on aviation. <a href="https://davidlearmount.com/2021/03/05/leonards-war/" target="_blank">https://davidlearmount.com/2021/03/05/leonards-war/</a></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXI7YWKUomlb9uGJEoLeY7tNFwK-1xZb71_96Deuduw4S3RfmX2vB7z29SpGn1EHSUj2QWEsz1oiVGaL0BOCGfqr0_yvGUI_r-ILiGT9yFkzSrDMJVBj-R2cYgu0m-oGVE2Gzzbr8L9DrdklaJj2Hd_arvnvjXFOqAng9wZulG3USKQie3Zrf__Cx8cg/s5184/P1012933.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3888" data-original-width="5184" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXI7YWKUomlb9uGJEoLeY7tNFwK-1xZb71_96Deuduw4S3RfmX2vB7z29SpGn1EHSUj2QWEsz1oiVGaL0BOCGfqr0_yvGUI_r-ILiGT9yFkzSrDMJVBj-R2cYgu0m-oGVE2Gzzbr8L9DrdklaJj2Hd_arvnvjXFOqAng9wZulG3USKQie3Zrf__Cx8cg/s320/P1012933.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>P R Fordhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09634848272422307580noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8792902209446838780.post-30783619702771343422022-01-10T16:58:00.002+00:002022-01-10T16:58:22.724+00:00NEW YEAR REDS PINKS AND BLUES<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEi5akPZE97JqKOiDGJZOyIwLHz060XCd-gyI4YhoWreZ0lXnRwBJ6h2H1pJVXfnnhWrowzO_4B4b6xZi2Ep7hEsUyvLDIT75X7s9u8ELTikqfwFvRVf-hv3vfyhRZr0p_jVo2tbObo-R7a5Ogq7aVCqKBFp_BvPbcH00acVvEPgzYfRBkchgwNjwoFoqQ=s5184" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="5184" data-original-width="3888" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEi5akPZE97JqKOiDGJZOyIwLHz060XCd-gyI4YhoWreZ0lXnRwBJ6h2H1pJVXfnnhWrowzO_4B4b6xZi2Ep7hEsUyvLDIT75X7s9u8ELTikqfwFvRVf-hv3vfyhRZr0p_jVo2tbObo-R7a5Ogq7aVCqKBFp_BvPbcH00acVvEPgzYfRBkchgwNjwoFoqQ=w480-h640" width="480" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p>I happened to be standing near the window when this brightly coloured bullfinch landed on the Japanese Cherry tree and began pecking away at the buds. Having decided that this was as good a breakfast as he was going to get, he stayed there tucking in, while I crept away and fetched my camera, and was good enough to let me take a few shots. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjf2E_35EZh1o760dH9lK_fnudKhaUjiWXIuaMryThHDnzb3X8rQZdIhiZ7frWrahnNQQFQgH0pN9kB1UkMRLCwmIK0gYt98mOQMtcz5vFYYAwutqOM4Tr1JcZIoCi16GUodOi7T2m1kw_SMZi-NOL6cqMN8bx6iM0zXznjYsYSymjUqOr010TJlrz24w=s5184" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="5184" data-original-width="3888" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjf2E_35EZh1o760dH9lK_fnudKhaUjiWXIuaMryThHDnzb3X8rQZdIhiZ7frWrahnNQQFQgH0pN9kB1UkMRLCwmIK0gYt98mOQMtcz5vFYYAwutqOM4Tr1JcZIoCi16GUodOi7T2m1kw_SMZi-NOL6cqMN8bx6iM0zXznjYsYSymjUqOr010TJlrz24w=w240-h320" width="240" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEi2NfFoJVKTW1XqTWJEvV_BCH8bgjX9M-8be8MxHlUwFlmtPTHJzGzsA-0G07SeXSpZX1puORIAqZjQNbyGdv5LY5Raam5qGL_eJgU5x6EDikPHNeHXp513MVjy5MxmXhIqBK7gGlZJVBP16gZjh0qURR9nt5ATVoZjv6fiU7ofO-BMQR_aTey6sw35DQ=s5184" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="5184" data-original-width="3888" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEi2NfFoJVKTW1XqTWJEvV_BCH8bgjX9M-8be8MxHlUwFlmtPTHJzGzsA-0G07SeXSpZX1puORIAqZjQNbyGdv5LY5Raam5qGL_eJgU5x6EDikPHNeHXp513MVjy5MxmXhIqBK7gGlZJVBP16gZjh0qURR9nt5ATVoZjv6fiU7ofO-BMQR_aTey6sw35DQ=w240-h320" width="240" /></a></div></div><br /><p>I was forced to take them through the window pane, so they lack clarity, but the impression is there and I hope he brightens up your day as much as he did mine. Because it’s truly dreadful here today! I just went outside to open up the greenhouse, and it’s a chilly, damp day: raining in that half-rain half-drizzle kind of way that soaks one’s coat and heart. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiI6BfOYarVytLZZocWCdQMvdEobnPso9wGMHBWFfn4YLdnplC8Hl5xPwQiRvZu1JLlsbvnfe1QPyf1DqKF9smXZx4qzs6uo-jLKil-ZzOo_mh1OVtkGDVrjUywdpQyNjDKalL0yhR_VRcZgaykzU_FbpStLAf_pcm1bxA9bFZOUdMXitGG0D5bDXg3-A=s5184" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3888" data-original-width="5184" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiI6BfOYarVytLZZocWCdQMvdEobnPso9wGMHBWFfn4YLdnplC8Hl5xPwQiRvZu1JLlsbvnfe1QPyf1DqKF9smXZx4qzs6uo-jLKil-ZzOo_mh1OVtkGDVrjUywdpQyNjDKalL0yhR_VRcZgaykzU_FbpStLAf_pcm1bxA9bFZOUdMXitGG0D5bDXg3-A=w400-h300" width="400" /></a></div><br /><p>A few little gems shone out against the brown stillness. Five small cyclamen plants – a Christmas present from our son – are surviving the wet, having been planted out in a hurry! And when I rounded the corner of the house, I found to my surprise that my Winter Jasmine – a cutting from my late uncle which has grown huge – is covered in little yellow star-shaped flowers. I've tried to photograph these, but the wet conditions have made for rather poor results! </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEg62Ro319x0YUk_B4NkqkO1It1ZU6Sfs3rZFXZCTmPvC7fLxnQR0IUKDyMj-1DoR6Elw2mmlYIc7Sijh8siTzyUlLZY7UfY0xbue-noPAq5_a6r8lB4_to09tRfYI-_7GknUyLhfaKNCkWfPcy2zR2KAre1Ix50Mg3E2sJ_z_zXgMyF7wDsNAQhFZA6Aw=s3264" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3264" data-original-width="2448" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEg62Ro319x0YUk_B4NkqkO1It1ZU6Sfs3rZFXZCTmPvC7fLxnQR0IUKDyMj-1DoR6Elw2mmlYIc7Sijh8siTzyUlLZY7UfY0xbue-noPAq5_a6r8lB4_to09tRfYI-_7GknUyLhfaKNCkWfPcy2zR2KAre1Ix50Mg3E2sJ_z_zXgMyF7wDsNAQhFZA6Aw=w300-h400" width="300" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><p>When I went out again this afternoon, I was able to catch a couple more of the cyclamens and some heather, although everything was even wetter than before.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiVVvOV-DcblIeM6VM0RvhFucX58IcPQrfszfLra2bxhaPpoh-g31PQxiLyt4SxgaSyBeORtpd6crx6fm0gHJhb4tYRwMY_TtJklB5W4NfVVbFs4omw3i3FINKpVbfNgfMSJu1ZKs16M8nvz_ivxF5lfbIwpXKYGR_am4mydDvyeIP-ZhFDEpgXPjz_Qw=s3264" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2448" data-original-width="3264" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiVVvOV-DcblIeM6VM0RvhFucX58IcPQrfszfLra2bxhaPpoh-g31PQxiLyt4SxgaSyBeORtpd6crx6fm0gHJhb4tYRwMY_TtJklB5W4NfVVbFs4omw3i3FINKpVbfNgfMSJu1ZKs16M8nvz_ivxF5lfbIwpXKYGR_am4mydDvyeIP-ZhFDEpgXPjz_Qw=w400-h300" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEitn_mwMAZGoAt_Xv_oy6MxZGRdxt3CBCrzldutLHsPrxfGpqXpCRJ2xsMNIr4JDthnAz-NzsO3FeueYuYlNBH9-pk_NHFt0_nhSHiOoUWdZT5Y2fQ0osfwsZYQXOuCiSt22f30fVKnDltHCQ8sCuQmEQekkJgcyqT0tCUi_nGB_rj6KQrxhJepVx5d-g=s1981" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1591" data-original-width="1981" height="321" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEitn_mwMAZGoAt_Xv_oy6MxZGRdxt3CBCrzldutLHsPrxfGpqXpCRJ2xsMNIr4JDthnAz-NzsO3FeueYuYlNBH9-pk_NHFt0_nhSHiOoUWdZT5Y2fQ0osfwsZYQXOuCiSt22f30fVKnDltHCQ8sCuQmEQekkJgcyqT0tCUi_nGB_rj6KQrxhJepVx5d-g=w400-h321" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjLYIMmVW-qMSex24PCS28FN1AUl3Xgrcv16D2rArw_eDlOfqfvi3dpn9BVxf6Jf3FjwPfKtOwxwvFAKOc9C2yYOTW23XjlGFbBHT-LCDMifcin8Z63sVLMEUkOu40mh17Y9OlC3UbRXyl84fCxq7oIJKpuBoxEqlRRIZJnb7EahrVTYqurIGP1r6cGBw=s3264" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3264" data-original-width="2448" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjLYIMmVW-qMSex24PCS28FN1AUl3Xgrcv16D2rArw_eDlOfqfvi3dpn9BVxf6Jf3FjwPfKtOwxwvFAKOc9C2yYOTW23XjlGFbBHT-LCDMifcin8Z63sVLMEUkOu40mh17Y9OlC3UbRXyl84fCxq7oIJKpuBoxEqlRRIZJnb7EahrVTYqurIGP1r6cGBw=w300-h400" width="300" /></a></div><br /><p>It’s hard to feel positive against such a dismal background, but we have to try. I have found a certain escapism in a fresh bout of writing, and my third book is back up and running… slowly. But my reading has been forced to revert to ‘comfort books’ after an excess of binge-watching thrillers on TV over the Christmas and New Year period, combined with a challenging and particularly gruesome thriller, led to sleeplessness and bad dreams. If you are wondering what I watched and read to cause this, I will simply name a drama called ‘Stay Close’ which had me both laughing in grim amusement and turning away from the screen in horror. The book I’ve had to set aside is equally harrowing, but shouldn’t really be affecting my sleep. It’s a WW2 thriller called ‘Agent in Berlin’ by Alex Gerlis. The suspense in this is more powerful, because although this book is fiction it echoes so much real history about Germany in the late 1930s and at the start of the war. It’s an excellent book, which I will read, but not just now.</p><p>To some extent the way we have been living over the last couple of years is affecting all of us in odd and behavioural ways. In December, I began to write a blog on concentration - which everyone is finding difficult - but I’ve since read so many articles on the same subject that I fear I would be repeating them without any positive outcome. If you too are feeling rather low at the moment, just remember that you are not the only one, and perhaps take comfort from these two photos I also took this afternoon of bulbs which are constant in their annual flowering come what may. These little irises and the promise of daffodils are a promise of the good things yet to come.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiXa6EjhCqfajFSEELGrnMIiwTwjGVPPHNQRAqaiV-rh-50rAkcmOX6eiJ7c1LTnxpVyS1xRXnw4xka5OsTwG2UyN4WeH7RHNFgQxrCXDflj15e_ePte4g26hV7eLHmMn6p1-z2lqBK6kafsUoj-A55rUEMOac1iQJMiDwjCMzcYeM908k3XCicZvhtng=s2793" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2793" data-original-width="2448" height="379" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiXa6EjhCqfajFSEELGrnMIiwTwjGVPPHNQRAqaiV-rh-50rAkcmOX6eiJ7c1LTnxpVyS1xRXnw4xka5OsTwG2UyN4WeH7RHNFgQxrCXDflj15e_ePte4g26hV7eLHmMn6p1-z2lqBK6kafsUoj-A55rUEMOac1iQJMiDwjCMzcYeM908k3XCicZvhtng=w331-h379" width="331" /></a></div><div style="text-align: left;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3264" data-original-width="2448" height="383" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEivaNDeScksvHRlzEHNk9cT_znGqoA9VhtoLxa4_46sWNNcZJ-oFLT8vrsBQ-AH3jb0961bkN_lbm2mvLWkU19nzq7v8ufy2JKN1jkh6Zq0k9uMck-_iI0t9TUV8tW_pZMgap-sh1kwS0JNMt5gjON8tww9ep0poR9EhhNb1PasYmpwQEHXuhpCiR7dnQ=w287-h383" width="287" /> <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div></div><div style="text-align: left;">And finally a photo of some little violas I planted in our hanging baskets for the winter. They have survived being thrown around in gale force winds, rained on and neglected - and yet they flower just as brightly. Don't forget, if you really are looking for an escapist read, take a look at my books by heading over to my website where you can find the links to purchase them: <a href="https://www.prfordauthor.com/" target="_blank">https://www.prfordauthor.com/</a></div><div style="text-align: left;">Take care of yourselves, look after your health and keep smiling. Until next time...</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjwFTHmG582HGs1HQfWS25KHyANqqR7ee3EetBbeyfDeC02Bv_2vPYzGyePpy7Uuj4Il-ZAg-KZ1TppL37QJDQD87SP0ZWFdzQgXDs4ISkg7ihIRMJnqj9ThN5QYjwKjIAbcaLTtcJ9bQ8gyGIWQVV8sZMXTJCTP41VKQX7GZ55xjbzHzVSxwurouChIw=s3264" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2448" data-original-width="3264" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjwFTHmG582HGs1HQfWS25KHyANqqR7ee3EetBbeyfDeC02Bv_2vPYzGyePpy7Uuj4Il-ZAg-KZ1TppL37QJDQD87SP0ZWFdzQgXDs4ISkg7ihIRMJnqj9ThN5QYjwKjIAbcaLTtcJ9bQ8gyGIWQVV8sZMXTJCTP41VKQX7GZ55xjbzHzVSxwurouChIw=w640-h480" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div>P R Fordhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09634848272422307580noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8792902209446838780.post-87445133929791665852021-10-29T17:37:00.000+01:002021-10-29T17:37:10.534+01:00CASTING ON<p><span style="font-size: medium;">Those of you who have been following my blogs over the years
know that one of my secondary hobbies is knitting. I began knitting at a very
young age, taught initially by my mother, but given additional inspiration to
knit in the Continental style by my aunt. Many years ago she spent a couple of
wet weeks holidaying in Italy, and for something to keep her occupied she bought some
wool, needles and a pattern and began to knit a jumper for her daughter. She asked
for help in translating the pattern from various Italian knitters who also
instructed her in this alternative way of knitting, and the jumper – when she
eventually finished it – was gorgeous. In those days a lot of people – but mainly
women – knitted, and while the pastime seemed to wane for a few decades it’s
back with a vengeance and now everyone knits.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;">I found myself listening to the Olympic diver Tom Daley on the radio the other
day, describing how he took up knitting originally to calm his nerves, and now he can’t
stop. As a hobby it is certainly quite soothing and therapeutic, but last year
I found myself beginning to falter, eventually stopping and packing away the
bright pink scarf I was attempting to create. </span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1DRtoC6e_cIT5fJEGJ3oLDbDuKPUubSstOGtZBMJH2UNtyKaCWMBI1NdCjEIhy8tHPofs0uZb9PX2uNjiE-5JaPfoF5ZQ1-WWuGg8TzDR0qi4uwYntBT3bwxPlHfKIkze1yAHaN5KxFPZ/s2048/IMG_20211028_200848184.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1365" data-original-width="2048" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1DRtoC6e_cIT5fJEGJ3oLDbDuKPUubSstOGtZBMJH2UNtyKaCWMBI1NdCjEIhy8tHPofs0uZb9PX2uNjiE-5JaPfoF5ZQ1-WWuGg8TzDR0qi4uwYntBT3bwxPlHfKIkze1yAHaN5KxFPZ/s320/IMG_20211028_200848184.jpg" width="320" /></a></span></div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br />Knitting had become too painful,
because I have arthritis in my fingers. I put everything away, out of sight,
and eventually forgot about it when gardening and other tasks took over as the
seasons changed. Then, a couple of weeks ago, I found the knitting bag when I
was clearing out my wardrobe. There was the gorgeous bright pink wool – which is
actually a mixture of cashmere and other fibres, very soft indeed – and it
looked very inviting. So… I picked it up and began again. It wasn’t easy. The
pattern is typical of me – tricky and not very forgiving. </span><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="clear: left; float: left; font-size: medium; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"> <img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1395" height="284" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdvtsGWWzvy6UhThhjQy7RI5IBMygld54yhtsB2lZwozkNNwDnSwKVeIpzDCrtlrBD1vBjNc8Hi9hcjm_ov4Gx4wH4lUgcrRUOfN2i4DxWcRwfShTmx7HYKuQWj6prse94czFvJxhZtAkz/w194-h284/IMG_20211029_095931075v2.jpg" width="194" /></span>A few rows had to be
unpicked and re-knitted, and my hands and fingers seemed incredibly clumsy. </span><div><span style="font-size: medium;">And
it was painful! But… the scarf grew, and as time went on I began to overcome
the pain because the scarf was turning out beautifully and the process of
making it has indeed been very relaxing. Last night I managed to finish it and I’ve
already chosen some new wool and another pattern for my next project. </span><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><span style="font-size: medium;"><o:p></o:p></span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;">Just as well, then, that I have something else to occupy my
time, because October has not been the friendliest month in the garden. When I began writing this yesterday afternoon, rain was beating against the window. Everything
looked windswept and damp, but today the garden has been brightened by some patches of sun, and the dahlias, fading Michaelmas daisies and late roses
continue to provide quite a bit of colour, which is cheering. My white
hydrangea clung on to its ‘whiteness’ until this week, when every flower turned
to dappled golden brown. There’s a lot to do out there, but it will have to
wait until the rain stops for a few days. I hope for some bright dry days in
November!</span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwWDDQqCP-iSrK0iEAmJ4OV370deD9C9ZqXDQDz46TFVc6OV-4XH83sTnk4yWG67Gh8jqDfOC9UjUhs0l0CGURT-8JosA6rPtaUD7Q-feT3HZSIRBwXR9sztPMIbDcn7uDLz68-syBzvH8/s5184/P1012317.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="5184" data-original-width="3888" height="421" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwWDDQqCP-iSrK0iEAmJ4OV370deD9C9ZqXDQDz46TFVc6OV-4XH83sTnk4yWG67Gh8jqDfOC9UjUhs0l0CGURT-8JosA6rPtaUD7Q-feT3HZSIRBwXR9sztPMIbDcn7uDLz68-syBzvH8/w316-h421/P1012317.JPG" width="316" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIJEKfhlKN2s5XojsKUMpCsTmaRey-Te-qpwY6qauqSrtZsPo5hG6JzybNE-0hY2c4pIqnjG7UxebD8ZEXjQiPRxZgF4jfZzIax9YmPm21IlC9FX_O0mHWL_usrBOg9x-JLe6OHOOMzhRR/s2048/P1012322v2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="2048" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIJEKfhlKN2s5XojsKUMpCsTmaRey-Te-qpwY6qauqSrtZsPo5hG6JzybNE-0hY2c4pIqnjG7UxebD8ZEXjQiPRxZgF4jfZzIax9YmPm21IlC9FX_O0mHWL_usrBOg9x-JLe6OHOOMzhRR/w400-h400/P1012322v2.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKL9kTIdLCiSb3xvjduTaVBpAS63HnKnOnjVCs4m3nJHRL9IKriX7bnyDTDDQyjgYJKw5Ao9TPEQol76sVX_rr28yI8lBMwhv3Lar4nQK0eUmY6zfjzilZOKqDKH8jA6uKe-RSRm0N4Te-/s5184/P1012327.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3888" data-original-width="5184" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKL9kTIdLCiSb3xvjduTaVBpAS63HnKnOnjVCs4m3nJHRL9IKriX7bnyDTDDQyjgYJKw5Ao9TPEQol76sVX_rr28yI8lBMwhv3Lar4nQK0eUmY6zfjzilZOKqDKH8jA6uKe-RSRm0N4Te-/w400-h300/P1012327.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_x-pBaJ71rvox0Zia1LzlLejb58RB0iswMsnFlV9ULLR_VP95eTU27hgc8SP2VvxNT7AjkisMJcUYkZrlBkm4BddORMB6MrwqKr7xD72wN7_pps6i4blwZ07-hn0w_rgQO82O1xsTyPhG/s5184/P1012330.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3888" data-original-width="5184" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_x-pBaJ71rvox0Zia1LzlLejb58RB0iswMsnFlV9ULLR_VP95eTU27hgc8SP2VvxNT7AjkisMJcUYkZrlBkm4BddORMB6MrwqKr7xD72wN7_pps6i4blwZ07-hn0w_rgQO82O1xsTyPhG/w400-h300/P1012330.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;">The photos show the hydrangea, some very late cosmos, one of the last dahlias, and an unexpected second flowering of a hebe - a lovely surprise!</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;">The News, which I try hard to avoid, has been pretty awful
here lately. When isn’t it, you may ask, and will it never end? In need of diversion,
I picked up a ‘comfort read’ in between the thrillers which dominate my
reading, and I’ve become addicted to a new author. Now I hasten to add that she’s
not everyone’s cup of tea, but if you fancy something easy to read and humorous,
with a bit of a comfortable story to it, the inevitable romance and
fair-to-middling writing, I recommend ‘One More Christmas at the Castle’ by
Trisha Ashley. I finished it this morning, and will definitely read more from
this author when I need a little light reading. My next read is Susan Hill’s
latest book in her excellent ‘Simon Serrailler’ series of crime novels, ‘A Change
of Circumstance’. The superb quality of writing from Susan Hill cannot be compared to that of Trisha Ashley, the genre is totally different in any case, but for enjoyment – in my opinion – both authors
stand out. And at the end of the day surely enjoyment is the main reason for
reading, otherwise there is no point?<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;">I leave you with one of the last roses on my large climber. I need to prune it before Winter, to avoid wind damage to the long stems, but I can't bear to do so while it's still flowering! Look after yourselves, and hang on to your hats
– the season is changing, and I have a feeling this winter is going to be a bumpy ride for many of us. I'll be back in November, when I hope to bring you some of the jewel colours of autumn leaves to brighten your days.</span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoeH9dR4mjSSTlrOfXqtIzimyXa8Ljcms-V9OtHx1BhnLAdrmaBvEMuZ1TiHsuxQW9TwOvKS1TMVvGsqe1kQTpNxJ18yzHuL9QmKup3nu4fdj0NaGu9WO5xWKHCe3MRat9dnLR_6cohPmK/s5184/P1012303.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3888" data-original-width="5184" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoeH9dR4mjSSTlrOfXqtIzimyXa8Ljcms-V9OtHx1BhnLAdrmaBvEMuZ1TiHsuxQW9TwOvKS1TMVvGsqe1kQTpNxJ18yzHuL9QmKup3nu4fdj0NaGu9WO5xWKHCe3MRat9dnLR_6cohPmK/w640-h480/P1012303.JPG" width="640" /></a></span></div><o:p></o:p><p></p></div></div></div>P R Fordhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09634848272422307580noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8792902209446838780.post-75409923118582299472021-09-06T14:31:00.003+01:002021-09-06T14:31:39.677+01:00EGG & ANCHOVY SANDWICHES AND BUTTERFLIES<p> When I worked in the City (of London) in the nineteen seventies, I was sent all over the place auditing various companies. At some of the larger establishments there were canteens where marvellous lunches could be had at subsidised prices. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyUs3edXG47cwkfn49zYPnk-jD9aRLEBaBH4D05Shd-3G9y8Lz4FR9y_JpRtx50_UXSWqshyUY9iRf0kJyqQHRPR4QmhvGFdkGx25NhXBAlhyqpPPbsPHYEKHLRN_KQJsVKNW7rHS9tPiD/s850/Easy-salad-sandwiches-with-herb-mayo-5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="850" data-original-width="850" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyUs3edXG47cwkfn49zYPnk-jD9aRLEBaBH4D05Shd-3G9y8Lz4FR9y_JpRtx50_UXSWqshyUY9iRf0kJyqQHRPR4QmhvGFdkGx25NhXBAlhyqpPPbsPHYEKHLRN_KQJsVKNW7rHS9tPiD/s320/Easy-salad-sandwiches-with-herb-mayo-5.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />But more often than not we relied on finding somewhere that sold sandwiches – and at that time there was a great choice of such places. Many were Italian, staffed by people who could put together a fresh sandwich at top speed, as you told them what you wanted. Queues were never too long and always moved quickly. The choice of fillings, types of bread and additions such as mayonnaise, was enormous. <p></p><p>Food was still very plain in those days, but beginning to be more interesting. I remember being introduced to an exotic-sounding ‘egg and anchovy on brown bread’ (before ‘granary’ was introduced) as a very junior articled clerk. I was given the task of fetching sandwiches for the entire team on an audit in Shepherd Market, a slightly dodgy area of the West End, renowned for its ‘ladies of the night’. I was advised to ‘be a bit careful’. The entire experience would be unheard of now, but in those days we all accepted whatever we were asked to do. As it happened I was fine, although the other girl on the team who foolishly decided to wear a fur coat to work, was almost propositioned on her way and didn’t wear it again.</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSfXlPi1ZenJpD17hckYRYJfuvPxI5urYZPtxjTD4u4dJYDQcBXhXeYn6XJ-3gAU448Sf97u2mQ-_7JLbHouinQ2p-znLQdAcitYMyfscKCgrBk9lcgXTXrrfyHHjFSD-OInalIaybXzMQ/s1800/Pefect-Cheesecake-7.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1800" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSfXlPi1ZenJpD17hckYRYJfuvPxI5urYZPtxjTD4u4dJYDQcBXhXeYn6XJ-3gAU448Sf97u2mQ-_7JLbHouinQ2p-znLQdAcitYMyfscKCgrBk9lcgXTXrrfyHHjFSD-OInalIaybXzMQ/s320/Pefect-Cheesecake-7.jpg" width="213" /></a></div><br />One of my favourite sandwich shops was on Bishopsgate, and their ‘cream cheese and chutney on rye’ was to die for. Another, under a railway arch off Minories sold the best cheesecake I have ever eaten, to this day. Topped with dark cherries and with a creamy texture, I would carry a slice in a greaseproof-paper-wrapped parcel back to the office, where for five minutes I could forget everything and indulge.<p></p><p>I doubt any of those sandwich shops have survived – or would survive in the London of today, but sometimes I yearn for one of those sandwiches, or a slice of the cheesecake. They probably wouldn’t taste the same or anything like as delicious, but one can dream.</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFeOnQa63nKRYRGlcIGJnWONQTgdpBt-CA4WpHzs_xTh99wnne7152cZdMn-8LiO0yvoTb0CdN_5aVI7blLuqoYPsR8M2QiHHwCceyzzVkwDMw9feLKT0eqc2XqEwZwn-u8lR3SIB7XqxY/s2048/IMG_20210904_101749893v2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1930" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFeOnQa63nKRYRGlcIGJnWONQTgdpBt-CA4WpHzs_xTh99wnne7152cZdMn-8LiO0yvoTb0CdN_5aVI7blLuqoYPsR8M2QiHHwCceyzzVkwDMw9feLKT0eqc2XqEwZwn-u8lR3SIB7XqxY/w378-h400/IMG_20210904_101749893v2.jpg" width="378" /></a></div><br />Back in the here and now, and I am inundated with tomatoes from the greenhouse. The two plants I planted outside have been a bit of a failure. I think they have suffered ‘tomato blight’, which I have been told by my neighbour is affecting not only his crop but many others around here. So I think I’ve been lucky with my ten plants in the greenhouse, all of which have been very healthy and abundant. The red ones in the photo are 'Crimson Crush' from three plants I bought online from D T Brown Seeds. This was a very successful purchase, as the plants arrived in very good condition and grew fast. The others are 'Sungold' which I grew from a very few seeds left over from last year!<p></p><p>I haven't grown any other vegetables this year. Instead I've concentrated on plants, and also for the first time since my mother died I've grown Sweet Peas. She loved them so much that I simply found it too sad to contemplate, but Mike came home from the supermarket with a small punnet of tiny plants and I couldn't resist growing them on. They have been spectacular!</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNIWVS3K-AnJr8qvbeNpFFpJ1_JkBFfM-t6rlUKBbGK7AVNcT-MLB977V19OTA0aB8cuVVzisgiimeMC90ClAowAKmmX0aei8f44eAiqvPgQa9L2ib9ml9uO5z_uRP_CT4-beyxK_fFZNM/s5184/P1011924.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="5184" data-original-width="3888" height="418" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNIWVS3K-AnJr8qvbeNpFFpJ1_JkBFfM-t6rlUKBbGK7AVNcT-MLB977V19OTA0aB8cuVVzisgiimeMC90ClAowAKmmX0aei8f44eAiqvPgQa9L2ib9ml9uO5z_uRP_CT4-beyxK_fFZNM/w314-h418/P1011924.JPG" width="314" /></a></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfrusHu9tNxGElLHhlUartAXLEQcYjkMMxHSixfBeM_P6TXmz3_SctcT6K-8fFexCGE_FhO88kdcC8cfIKBzV5Fqp_IWsGs8zzrA30M_SeuPQ4uC9xZnQEZS3HRnwcO0UOmk4iF146accG/s5184/P1011916.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="5184" data-original-width="3888" height="419" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfrusHu9tNxGElLHhlUartAXLEQcYjkMMxHSixfBeM_P6TXmz3_SctcT6K-8fFexCGE_FhO88kdcC8cfIKBzV5Fqp_IWsGs8zzrA30M_SeuPQ4uC9xZnQEZS3HRnwcO0UOmk4iF146accG/w314-h419/P1011916.JPG" width="314" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWfbbnFCUBB_EzZgVE71eYjF-YBuiHDKEXmxrEfrm9AbqsD2kjlFdVJxTaFZ8-NPITgz-AyPc0kr2Coi2mlJJ8A9zNoV4nE8pOYyfOEP2-W22wLJAaKA5sXvoXwfL9H5bZLAPXtszHgRPW/s5184/P1011920.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="5184" data-original-width="3888" height="437" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWfbbnFCUBB_EzZgVE71eYjF-YBuiHDKEXmxrEfrm9AbqsD2kjlFdVJxTaFZ8-NPITgz-AyPc0kr2Coi2mlJJ8A9zNoV4nE8pOYyfOEP2-W22wLJAaKA5sXvoXwfL9H5bZLAPXtszHgRPW/w328-h437/P1011920.JPG" width="328" /></a></div><br /><p>We are in the process of extending the large circular flowerbed. Mike jokes that at this rate in a few years' time we won't have any lawn left! The main reason, though, is to move a couple of roses which have been swamped by the Hydrangea 'Annabelle' - which clearly loves its position so much it has gained huge proportions. In the photo I have placed some potted box and petunias to cover the newly exposed area and safeguard it from the local cat community.</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZadreK4zVG4ma_t2zVSKmpTT9JeR5rXbF4VGlmiSIyWzMcjHywDP4t8jHu_Y43c3wxm3rYt1Z88s65-8RPC25ssTXanBjn49wdgJrp2i1KndRxbyfbeVGaGHZ9j46GcPmlWp3mOAMKeUs/s2048/P1012037v3.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZadreK4zVG4ma_t2zVSKmpTT9JeR5rXbF4VGlmiSIyWzMcjHywDP4t8jHu_Y43c3wxm3rYt1Z88s65-8RPC25ssTXanBjn49wdgJrp2i1KndRxbyfbeVGaGHZ9j46GcPmlWp3mOAMKeUs/w640-h480/P1012037v3.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br />I won't move the roses until the autumn, but getting the turf taken up and moved has been quite a task and I'm now ready to dig over the exposed soil. We are on clay here, but it's mixed with rubble and stone, which isn't ideal - but you can only work with what you've got. I will add in a lot of grit and some compost before planting up. Plenty of work ahead!<p></p><p>Finally, I must show you some of the butterflies which have made the garden so uplifting this year. Since the buddleias came into full bloom they, and many other plants, have been covered in butterflies, especially on sunny days. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4tZE3DtKOBaIOaxMz-XLFwf2piCvpAdh5UfpOptfg1kVG7iXOw4_xpwKjqeWK9UqUQNnpKQY0vh1LqP-b_JCCa_k_zOCuWkmtdAduhCRkBFgy5YJ0PyFhHmo2fiB4AnkVBcE-Pqqo8ckv/s5184/P1011842.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3888" data-original-width="5184" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4tZE3DtKOBaIOaxMz-XLFwf2piCvpAdh5UfpOptfg1kVG7iXOw4_xpwKjqeWK9UqUQNnpKQY0vh1LqP-b_JCCa_k_zOCuWkmtdAduhCRkBFgy5YJ0PyFhHmo2fiB4AnkVBcE-Pqqo8ckv/w640-h480/P1011842.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkevU1CeA1rnYGxgS7Kq8K9_YAxUTmtz2pGLteV3vY60x12ELmYHfUOXump2WXtFGtn5bMbLt_vayQ8fP2rvHCjngcfivvddZ1YrS5dJkB82SPtKIxVm1AhrQ7T1azL3mr_JqLRuAMhz2X/s5184/P1011980.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3888" data-original-width="5184" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkevU1CeA1rnYGxgS7Kq8K9_YAxUTmtz2pGLteV3vY60x12ELmYHfUOXump2WXtFGtn5bMbLt_vayQ8fP2rvHCjngcfivvddZ1YrS5dJkB82SPtKIxVm1AhrQ7T1azL3mr_JqLRuAMhz2X/w640-h480/P1011980.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlU62Fz_AeCUQX0_6xWawrcMWtujU4zOrT0NXV_c-ag2NlPnQ-x38Bs9vmdzoqqxCEMAf-Cr2zXrPGU28JYA60tD0UCFGwlfuk2LzJ-mS2NbPhxlkXFggO_4b2a5uh-72BoVB6UuMR2DXK/s2048/P1011983v3.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br /><img border="0" data-original-height="2040" data-original-width="2048" height="638" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlU62Fz_AeCUQX0_6xWawrcMWtujU4zOrT0NXV_c-ag2NlPnQ-x38Bs9vmdzoqqxCEMAf-Cr2zXrPGU28JYA60tD0UCFGwlfuk2LzJ-mS2NbPhxlkXFggO_4b2a5uh-72BoVB6UuMR2DXK/w640-h638/P1011983v3.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div>As we move on through September I hope you will enjoy everything the season has to offer, wherever you are. We will discuss reading next time. Look after yourselves!</div><div><br /></div><div><i>Note that the photos of sandwiches and cheesecake have been sourced from the internet and are not my own.</i></div>P R Fordhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09634848272422307580noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8792902209446838780.post-67926407013192165072021-08-09T19:15:00.001+01:002021-08-09T19:15:36.404+01:00CLOUDBURST<p> There are days when it seems as though the skies will never finish emptying of rain, and today is one of them. I snapped a few photos through the window to show you our ‘cloudburst afternoon’ here in Devon. As you can see, I had been preparing for a dry interval: the washing line was out and all the windows of the greenhouse open. It was not to be, and dashing out to amend the situation was not an option.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEge_FSCkNrpmRGrJ0Hox9HPe5WnPx8TzOwgAiLFkTqEPr8csWx59ZkdQBmDK1H2Tf0b66BBqr2zEcqRhYC7eSXt1DkRFmutmdY_vEOOzxACgCiYW7BuWOVX_TiBHbEiTZ2Lg06g_1J-yQdf/s1920/P1011720.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1920" data-original-width="1440" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEge_FSCkNrpmRGrJ0Hox9HPe5WnPx8TzOwgAiLFkTqEPr8csWx59ZkdQBmDK1H2Tf0b66BBqr2zEcqRhYC7eSXt1DkRFmutmdY_vEOOzxACgCiYW7BuWOVX_TiBHbEiTZ2Lg06g_1J-yQdf/w300-h400/P1011720.jpeg" width="300" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyET9B-5sCTLiP2DR2shwnV1bS4EK4VVGGAowBvgptZP1dHSMG3cLmOZcByXhQCdxDpU6rlAPCmZquhOM32n-DzHlJIl76bHlTB_DyjvD-xkMBlMAv6ncpbPRox-_83cQlukfMWepQl-2A/s4732/P1011724.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4732" data-original-width="3696" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyET9B-5sCTLiP2DR2shwnV1bS4EK4VVGGAowBvgptZP1dHSMG3cLmOZcByXhQCdxDpU6rlAPCmZquhOM32n-DzHlJIl76bHlTB_DyjvD-xkMBlMAv6ncpbPRox-_83cQlukfMWepQl-2A/w500-h640/P1011724.JPG" width="500" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVAbXvwVicQARhPIr0fKMFXjJ67QDmwju7oyCRGGdM2O181onJIOAdmwSOR3kqQxygNDz0nVxsTGhiNU3LWIwvWcav1ehyQxTSantmmwYMf8Wxf753d4AGRJeQIYA1LzW-eWQgef4EAuLK/s1920/P1011730.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1920" data-original-width="1440" height="414" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVAbXvwVicQARhPIr0fKMFXjJ67QDmwju7oyCRGGdM2O181onJIOAdmwSOR3kqQxygNDz0nVxsTGhiNU3LWIwvWcav1ehyQxTSantmmwYMf8Wxf753d4AGRJeQIYA1LzW-eWQgef4EAuLK/w311-h414/P1011730.jpeg" width="311" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBLQjo14lVlEYDkJbvNdsGktunoSxbrcze9lHCgof0S8cW72ncJNM32E4KD7CTFU9Lu7VN7-Ga70_AcVepWijfUo_RvUxu2241htYgNiKVuxux_iEJXmhxv5Nt5lk7duocvdjmMpOu_E8k/s1920/P1011729.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1920" data-original-width="1440" height="415" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBLQjo14lVlEYDkJbvNdsGktunoSxbrcze9lHCgof0S8cW72ncJNM32E4KD7CTFU9Lu7VN7-Ga70_AcVepWijfUo_RvUxu2241htYgNiKVuxux_iEJXmhxv5Nt5lk7duocvdjmMpOu_E8k/w312-h415/P1011729.jpeg" width="312" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p>This has been a very testing year for the garden, and July was no exception. Very strong winds and more rain were forces under which my ‘show’ hydrangea ‘Annabelle’ could not maintain its shape, with the gorgeous ‘mop’ heads bending and even breaking under the strain. As a result one of my rose bushes is half hidden beneath the supported stems of the hydrangea, although it is still determined to make a second showing!</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvD5A4qxDh5qF6Qn8U6KXUWINihKSIgWaGrLAr7fXXA6VXzbIKbJnokrQt-E8CAIPhJ8Wynk32LhGNueha8gLycydDca_5RutCayQL7OkIP3IT5f5PHQZkQ95xkE2IznUx8dkQtH1oTeV8/s1920/P1011514.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1920" data-original-width="1440" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvD5A4qxDh5qF6Qn8U6KXUWINihKSIgWaGrLAr7fXXA6VXzbIKbJnokrQt-E8CAIPhJ8Wynk32LhGNueha8gLycydDca_5RutCayQL7OkIP3IT5f5PHQZkQ95xkE2IznUx8dkQtH1oTeV8/w300-h400/P1011514.jpeg" width="300" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Before...</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">and after - supported as well as possible!</div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7cYxGvPu3P93faPrzrL_6Gp8R1cNVedVDk8lByPFi0o9EwR46z8JN49unDYoT8krtFGJ8o_199YlFFb0ZUVf3E0kKK8ICBgXjyFHto2eZuXoY6jj-sc27etaeTiDRdnHL1Kt4XNcv0tPY/s1920/P1011642.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1920" data-original-width="1440" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7cYxGvPu3P93faPrzrL_6Gp8R1cNVedVDk8lByPFi0o9EwR46z8JN49unDYoT8krtFGJ8o_199YlFFb0ZUVf3E0kKK8ICBgXjyFHto2eZuXoY6jj-sc27etaeTiDRdnHL1Kt4XNcv0tPY/w300-h400/P1011642.jpeg" width="300" /></a></div><br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcTJ7Y1t7SEp-_eXsxyQcIYsE35UCCqcIUJXXn6O8Xa2alp7bIqIb-X_niL27GDUTcKx4MdQV86W3K1omraq8YO_fyM95Zts4dKGWbH3ZeoBj39quT-hpr3dmQHdFe4uaAp60Q89z_E8NX/s5184/P1011709.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3888" data-original-width="5184" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcTJ7Y1t7SEp-_eXsxyQcIYsE35UCCqcIUJXXn6O8Xa2alp7bIqIb-X_niL27GDUTcKx4MdQV86W3K1omraq8YO_fyM95Zts4dKGWbH3ZeoBj39quT-hpr3dmQHdFe4uaAp60Q89z_E8NX/w640-h480/P1011709.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEho7qi-H-gM0erzvcqv3aAMGcUaEjU8PMM4a-yEDeapjmmyGhHoSfdIb1Og3f-7G9uRC7o2cFaAdpz5QFLBfR3W_69V05rk4wS4Pkak_7s4c_ucee78O-UxbZBSzv1HlZizc9CRX3c1k5V2/s2048/IMG_20210723_092136532.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="295" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEho7qi-H-gM0erzvcqv3aAMGcUaEjU8PMM4a-yEDeapjmmyGhHoSfdIb1Og3f-7G9uRC7o2cFaAdpz5QFLBfR3W_69V05rk4wS4Pkak_7s4c_ucee78O-UxbZBSzv1HlZizc9CRX3c1k5V2/w221-h295/IMG_20210723_092136532.jpg" width="221" /></a></div></div>The last six weeks have seen changes in all our lives, and one or two 'normal' tasks resumed. The two of us managed to visit the dentist after over a year, and a major improvement to my own self-esteem was accomplished by a visit to the hairdresser. My last haircut was in December 2019, so my hair has seen quite a transformation over that time. If you cast a glance at my website <a href="https://www.prfordauthor.com/" target="_blank">prfordauthor</a> you will see a 'before' picture from about two years ago. The photo here shows the length it was the day before I had it cut.<div><br />With some trepidation I left the shaggy mass in the hands of 22-year-old Emily who has done an excellent job in cutting, snipping, 'thinning' and generally making me feel more human again. It's surprising how much better one can feel after chatting to a youngster via a mirror and over the multiple noises of hair being tended to!<div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>Last time I asked you what you were reading, and I was regaled with some wonderful suggestions. I always have a list of books on the go, so I have added your recommendations to the list, although they are still a little while away from reading. I have always found that I tend to read in phases, rather as one might develop tastes for certain foods. Thus I work my way through different genres until I am sated and move on to something different. Maybe you are the same? I recently discovered the author Daniel Silva whose 'spy thrillers' are based mostly in Italy, Germany, Switzerland and across Europe, including Britain. I am currently working my way through his 'Gabriel Allon' series, espionage that focuses on Israeli intelligence. He writes beautiful prose, the plots are exciting and fascinating, and I'm so lucky that there are no fewer than 20 books making up the series!</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>Meanwhile, when it's not raining, here are some little gems from the garden over the last six weeks which will, I hope, make you smile. Look after yourselves, and if it's raining: stay dry - until next time.</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicdIBOzpn80O8csnQdkuwjYl1rW0BH6LdQSCTZBQqits37szcanMrg6hrtMZopx30mVGJ-s5hyox_Pai3sfoZJanyXVSxvCz5v0x88d4iSV02WNHN1_R6n6gF8lSVQKl7m35EOiCXJoaRe/s5184/P1011531.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="5184" data-original-width="3888" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicdIBOzpn80O8csnQdkuwjYl1rW0BH6LdQSCTZBQqits37szcanMrg6hrtMZopx30mVGJ-s5hyox_Pai3sfoZJanyXVSxvCz5v0x88d4iSV02WNHN1_R6n6gF8lSVQKl7m35EOiCXJoaRe/s320/P1011531.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDzNl94uN_XaHL5tTijzG1CfrbUQD59UZkYjPKy8vYDmEyCXLMBtE2r-Gn82u8TZzI18hhMTnUsqxxU57iwG2y6RFGzCfDCpcu00ozp1wMzkafF0aur0CGGMom4Am1GfipURq87xh4CE_5/s5184/P1011593.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="5184" data-original-width="3888" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDzNl94uN_XaHL5tTijzG1CfrbUQD59UZkYjPKy8vYDmEyCXLMBtE2r-Gn82u8TZzI18hhMTnUsqxxU57iwG2y6RFGzCfDCpcu00ozp1wMzkafF0aur0CGGMom4Am1GfipURq87xh4CE_5/s320/P1011593.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2zVQk0FvoWzeyk6P5tG2TIOuUiHkWRhI_uSHzXY_ysU6H_pMXQlQAPu_RC5VjL5-yE_dgJwDnkwF9YTNJYLMUThYrxMOsGc3OgMNGyRZUWhMHCU65O9oWevUlbriXTcjEiK_3vcIxCzYa/s5184/P1011609.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="5184" data-original-width="3888" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2zVQk0FvoWzeyk6P5tG2TIOuUiHkWRhI_uSHzXY_ysU6H_pMXQlQAPu_RC5VjL5-yE_dgJwDnkwF9YTNJYLMUThYrxMOsGc3OgMNGyRZUWhMHCU65O9oWevUlbriXTcjEiK_3vcIxCzYa/s320/P1011609.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVsO10JadLDShJVluOCtbIIkLCaGh3FdD1nt-Wd9r8Bap9-6XPkwL00MEki1DTxiMVWvOMgHt1Ji1R0olDTO4n_fDR8Y9bT8A8LCogHb_X45WbO6wEzrZ7j1Ko18ES3M5MSoPEfwU26R6r/s5184/P1011626.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="5184" data-original-width="3888" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVsO10JadLDShJVluOCtbIIkLCaGh3FdD1nt-Wd9r8Bap9-6XPkwL00MEki1DTxiMVWvOMgHt1Ji1R0olDTO4n_fDR8Y9bT8A8LCogHb_X45WbO6wEzrZ7j1Ko18ES3M5MSoPEfwU26R6r/s320/P1011626.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLA26CPxblGWAkSCONMbBjbv5_MwDkxPPUitjy_2Gz_AxTYBYDev4UR55UOVoUhwH-_4AACFYNo5_oLkL1e9Btwk7_9JXfTn7k7oBpqEmo1IjTHa29cbTqYRDyTY4l6r6xYISxJzsX34s0/s5184/P1011633.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3888" data-original-width="5184" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLA26CPxblGWAkSCONMbBjbv5_MwDkxPPUitjy_2Gz_AxTYBYDev4UR55UOVoUhwH-_4AACFYNo5_oLkL1e9Btwk7_9JXfTn7k7oBpqEmo1IjTHa29cbTqYRDyTY4l6r6xYISxJzsX34s0/s320/P1011633.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHFJGsZJIKZFjA0fpXa_yjHkoDPsoVVuF14TwQnadQ5-g6Aw_RTGqGNUFJv0ea5OSw3xaTmGhuoSwbw7pc1Sl1geF8LKZDOMxU-J_PIyJxM0o59zpf6_Xx464_RYLHvw0x-Mq-bjdn7gE_/s3466/P1011705+%25282%2529.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3350" data-original-width="3466" height="309" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHFJGsZJIKZFjA0fpXa_yjHkoDPsoVVuF14TwQnadQ5-g6Aw_RTGqGNUFJv0ea5OSw3xaTmGhuoSwbw7pc1Sl1geF8LKZDOMxU-J_PIyJxM0o59zpf6_Xx464_RYLHvw0x-Mq-bjdn7gE_/s320/P1011705+%25282%2529.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKXmT1pjIGJnrnU-kHto2lj0cvIwbs2N-yigFati6aviIJBlE1V7F19SnK06Xc_FqOk1NuFBJ_dQ7MNifl6tBFIincygGOr2UFN4fm_ARbU0Brhs0LzwKZU94s4ue1NdtE9dKcOoXNP6Et/s5184/P1011706.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="5184" data-original-width="3888" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKXmT1pjIGJnrnU-kHto2lj0cvIwbs2N-yigFati6aviIJBlE1V7F19SnK06Xc_FqOk1NuFBJ_dQ7MNifl6tBFIincygGOr2UFN4fm_ARbU0Brhs0LzwKZU94s4ue1NdtE9dKcOoXNP6Et/w480-h640/P1011706.JPG" width="480" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div><br /><div><br /><p><br /></p></div></div></div>P R Fordhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09634848272422307580noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8792902209446838780.post-22354544581937897122021-06-19T17:46:00.001+01:002021-06-19T17:46:32.139+01:00BALANCE<p class="MsoNormal">Almost midsummer, and the roses which have been late this year are finally cheering up and performing. I found a couple of almost blown blooms whose stems had drooped to the ground under their weight, so into a vase on the kitchen windowsill they went, and here they are for your enjoyment.</p><p class="MsoNormal"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0mRApHjNXrjj7AQOJ2-cb2OewqWPMX_4ZNoTT37z_HiUkI2F2LFYkEPsYOk1MBcN9tuEhA2v3qUM0i7x0FkJoRq94TfmaZETWak99wQaskRsANNkObls0binP7oBvliSPYWZ2hFpVYh3h/s2048/P1011197.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1771" data-original-width="2048" height="554" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0mRApHjNXrjj7AQOJ2-cb2OewqWPMX_4ZNoTT37z_HiUkI2F2LFYkEPsYOk1MBcN9tuEhA2v3qUM0i7x0FkJoRq94TfmaZETWak99wQaskRsANNkObls0binP7oBvliSPYWZ2hFpVYh3h/w640-h554/P1011197.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: 16px;"><span style="font-size: 16px;"><br /></span></p>I received my second vaccination on 23rd April, but only now am I beginning to feel that the balance in my body is restored. The first vaccination, you may remember, knocked me for six, and just as I was beginning to feel more myself – wham, the second one threw me out of kilter again. Of course this all may be a figment of my over-active imagination, but I don’t believe so. The situation now seems to be ‘damned if you do and damned if you don’t’ – so like so many of my generation I’ve chosen to be damned anyway and on we go.<p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 16px;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwb9_Y7zvgewCLygqduU3BuPUzv2VQ5Ks3rfcB-A_wnZoFURS4hq635jERsNVRESbJG6qGjbe2H_wnzbiyNRYjDmqI475Qmjj1Zcaeqn24CI7KQi4cNocZUj38UJuXwfIIqs1zkvAMZyuu/s5184/P1010979.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="5184" data-original-width="3888" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwb9_Y7zvgewCLygqduU3BuPUzv2VQ5Ks3rfcB-A_wnZoFURS4hq635jERsNVRESbJG6qGjbe2H_wnzbiyNRYjDmqI475Qmjj1Zcaeqn24CI7KQi4cNocZUj38UJuXwfIIqs1zkvAMZyuu/w300-h400/P1010979.JPG" width="300" /></a></div><br />The third book progresses slowly. It’s complex, exciting and great fun to write. The plot is unravelling in my head and taking time to reach the point when I actually commit it to written words. This too needs balance, and careful planning, but I think I’m getting there. For those of my readers who love the character Tobias, I can assure you he is playing quite a major role once again, alongside some new people and other old friends. Watch this space!<p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 16px;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 16px;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal">What are you reading? I've worked my way through some exceptional thrillers, and must mention a couple. Rory Clements has written a series of historical novels set in the late Elizabethan era, all of which I enjoyed and recommend. However he has now turned his hand to a different era: the nineteen thirties and forties, with an American Cambridge spy, Tom Wilde as his lead character. These books are incredibly exciting and the latest: 'A Prince and a Spy' is enthralling. I recommend all of them, but this in particular. Secondly, I may have mentioned M W Craven before, and his latest - the fourth in his 'Washington Poe' series is another unputdownable crime thriller. Again, highly recommended. I'm finding it hard to adapt to my next read now, but not every book needs to be exciting... or does it?</p><p class="MsoNormal"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLk8tDcFtlJLFOUx_i2XoDA4JghGxTc5QqZe9cYfQmPs3Pc4SQRbSb28Wl4KRmhPXdCkJCeQPGTZmy5x2jn_YUHyLC6kySSJEcxlQ4SAwKxsSMNjTkn1k7hcICMTJRkgO6mHbOuijhOkyC/s5184/P1011160.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3888" data-original-width="5184" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLk8tDcFtlJLFOUx_i2XoDA4JghGxTc5QqZe9cYfQmPs3Pc4SQRbSb28Wl4KRmhPXdCkJCeQPGTZmy5x2jn_YUHyLC6kySSJEcxlQ4SAwKxsSMNjTkn1k7hcICMTJRkgO6mHbOuijhOkyC/w400-h300/P1011160.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOwnotvnDQTXLE9QrR4i3vWHKOBWLKB2pJ0qnivU0eV3bTm5lcueeBUZ0UdpJz2ZBxxYQwGniWG2ftA-JoQlilCHxZRraY-8CtCfXdLZ9b-ZuChBvNQFtA63IMLOQ6W0TOC5wUjgjFsrCT/s4809/P1011250.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4809" data-original-width="3607" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOwnotvnDQTXLE9QrR4i3vWHKOBWLKB2pJ0qnivU0eV3bTm5lcueeBUZ0UdpJz2ZBxxYQwGniWG2ftA-JoQlilCHxZRraY-8CtCfXdLZ9b-ZuChBvNQFtA63IMLOQ6W0TOC5wUjgjFsrCT/w480-h640/P1011250.JPG" width="480" /></a></div><br /><p class="MsoNormal">Slightly more relaxed Covid rules have meant that one or two people have been able to come and see the garden. I am always delighted when this happens in normal times, but now it's even more of a pleasure. Last weekend our son brought his partner over - we hadn't seen her since Christmas - on a beautiful day, and created memories to treasure.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiomT9VAwWuR6cKr7HjoJU0OnugGRwbAjuCIxovomYvhBe3SrBNEqOZp3m52N-QQ_m5Jyz6zE0ZMFLREI7_2AmsKf4zNCVwe94hyphenhyphene8e49jHHM4w_KOhdfJ5yglRTvGzkp5KEmwmgxM-y9Z7/s2048/P1011125-001.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiomT9VAwWuR6cKr7HjoJU0OnugGRwbAjuCIxovomYvhBe3SrBNEqOZp3m52N-QQ_m5Jyz6zE0ZMFLREI7_2AmsKf4zNCVwe94hyphenhyphene8e49jHHM4w_KOhdfJ5yglRTvGzkp5KEmwmgxM-y9Z7/w640-h480/P1011125-001.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><p class="MsoNormal">Patience Strong was a 20th Century poet famed for her short, happy little pieces, often sentimental. My mother had a piece of embroidery which featured this little poem, and whilst it may seem a little old-fashioned I think it touches the heart of everyone who loves gardens.</p><div style="text-align: center;"><i>'In a garden green and gay<br />All my troubles fade away<br />Sweet contentment here I find<br />Joy of heart and peace of mind.'</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i><br /></i></div><div style="text-align: left;">I leave you with the thought that balance and harmony are essential to our wellbeing, and whilst it isn't always possible to maintain either physical or mental equilibrium, it is important to recognise their absence. Sometimes this in itself can help recovery. For now, keep well and look after yourselves. I must go and water the tomato plants!</div><p class="MsoNormal"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHRSEY72UTBzqytDVJWBjKKiuRxWDZmSsEaN4pP9dxL2PVqlxNjbbqsamhcmI0V1TT2y_-1ZD3j4b5zsFy6MNQNAtm_KTTTWYto1ZbE5zk_oWRvaEfb8Cqqti2mHLy4gebntR17aILM1tP/s5184/P1011165.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3888" data-original-width="5184" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHRSEY72UTBzqytDVJWBjKKiuRxWDZmSsEaN4pP9dxL2PVqlxNjbbqsamhcmI0V1TT2y_-1ZD3j4b5zsFy6MNQNAtm_KTTTWYto1ZbE5zk_oWRvaEfb8Cqqti2mHLy4gebntR17aILM1tP/w640-h480/P1011165.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><br /><span style="font-size: 16px;"><br /></span><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 16px;"><br /></span></p><div><br /></div>P R Fordhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09634848272422307580noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8792902209446838780.post-27645041220556450252021-05-08T17:42:00.000+01:002021-05-08T17:42:04.544+01:00ICE IN SPRING<p>I promised photos of blossom. Well, in my garden the Cherry blossom has been and gone, but here are a couple of the many photos I took for you back in March.</p><p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYcPOW9u5lQOHKO-wKh17mmybYzzMaQJQP5WkzhuqIvP13ujZl6gee2JZHovr0NnXzuaNMeVQt34zGtBaYiizvS9LtyFnTja1e7FcQYAjLPIaHiU-MJtik3IYVPbPxsM6GkW1S11D4QBRy/s2048/DSCN3899.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYcPOW9u5lQOHKO-wKh17mmybYzzMaQJQP5WkzhuqIvP13ujZl6gee2JZHovr0NnXzuaNMeVQt34zGtBaYiizvS9LtyFnTja1e7FcQYAjLPIaHiU-MJtik3IYVPbPxsM6GkW1S11D4QBRy/w640-h480/DSCN3899.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhy1MzQErh8daj7QdtYsa2bg6QSVcDnUB22HJ02PEw6h-0GL-K-ZCVCCJ9My8eyECATVPwprTeCL0SSD6PNLdrDBMqnla0r_h9L7Q7AQatzbEDBNZw-I0h5TzQVWqfN9ROowHvrEQUd1jCi/s2048/DSCN3896.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhy1MzQErh8daj7QdtYsa2bg6QSVcDnUB22HJ02PEw6h-0GL-K-ZCVCCJ9My8eyECATVPwprTeCL0SSD6PNLdrDBMqnla0r_h9L7Q7AQatzbEDBNZw-I0h5TzQVWqfN9ROowHvrEQUd1jCi/w640-h480/DSCN3896.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br />Other blossom appeared in April: the Pear tree made a lovely showing, but one of the late frosts which have plagued us destroyed all hope of any fruit. <p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYao8x3nnGViFuMQOp66WLb9HKo297rmvO5ChKnY2L_zez5XrfaWwkUeAqLVPX06XwbrYrNSzOSvNn2M0BlwN7o9R9cX2sBfDyaOlqO5fa7DhgxuSj5A7CuC7hY6d0cw65_Wk3lpjX00U9/s5184/P1010668.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="5184" data-original-width="3888" height="352" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYao8x3nnGViFuMQOp66WLb9HKo297rmvO5ChKnY2L_zez5XrfaWwkUeAqLVPX06XwbrYrNSzOSvNn2M0BlwN7o9R9cX2sBfDyaOlqO5fa7DhgxuSj5A7CuC7hY6d0cw65_Wk3lpjX00U9/w264-h352/P1010668.JPG" width="264" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-22K8yA_TGDmbeI9nL7BisaN_q_SZFsiJWgbZed9J4qn-D3a-cZSshxuHijZ1oA5N6QonOZNT5vW5bNPfIro3Ve_7V5SiQ5YHkL8PJLToJ4anmSxU5qzhbR2l76FZm7wgrrHkwElBSTHs/s1085/DSCN3937-002.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1085" data-original-width="905" height="353" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-22K8yA_TGDmbeI9nL7BisaN_q_SZFsiJWgbZed9J4qn-D3a-cZSshxuHijZ1oA5N6QonOZNT5vW5bNPfIro3Ve_7V5SiQ5YHkL8PJLToJ4anmSxU5qzhbR2l76FZm7wgrrHkwElBSTHs/w294-h353/DSCN3937-002.JPG" width="294" /></a></div><br /><p>The larger of our two Apple trees is blooming now for the first time, and seems to be holding its own despite the cold. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuSX4qcohLc43LEvusaG91SqZACwBMstZGm4jthCg2_NltV-tuGDec7ouBbIH1a86vzottvkIYBR5R8y9jTInHcDfFnKeWVz6gIWfkf7FNz3To9G3WSm5klJyAI148Wz2vaw2Q3OKlatUb/s2048/DSCN3973.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="381" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuSX4qcohLc43LEvusaG91SqZACwBMstZGm4jthCg2_NltV-tuGDec7ouBbIH1a86vzottvkIYBR5R8y9jTInHcDfFnKeWVz6gIWfkf7FNz3To9G3WSm5klJyAI148Wz2vaw2Q3OKlatUb/w286-h381/DSCN3973.JPG" width="286" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDA8ijWsgxycyMvX5qNQVYFW1Eo90C4UcGGGChyhY-fO3yE7TVKLyOzlyw9ieLDMN1Dbf57CYofR6IV4e530p6CXVzj1wlyap5aMvUADKgNlQE5nJ8N9i0EdOWQ2I5s_CgWcuUuAv_c869/s2048/DSCN3976.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="379" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDA8ijWsgxycyMvX5qNQVYFW1Eo90C4UcGGGChyhY-fO3yE7TVKLyOzlyw9ieLDMN1Dbf57CYofR6IV4e530p6CXVzj1wlyap5aMvUADKgNlQE5nJ8N9i0EdOWQ2I5s_CgWcuUuAv_c869/w285-h379/DSCN3976.JPG" width="285" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p>One other major event has taken place in the garden: at last the new shed has arrived and been built. After a nine month wait, you can imagine our excitement (well, some of us more than others), and with it came the opportunity to improve the path which runs along the side of the greenhouse to said shed. The work was carried out with skill and cheerfulness by a local firm, and has made a massive improvement to the shed/greenhouse area. A bonus is another, albeit small area where we can sit out – when the sun shines!</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjd-drcfzQntA7AS7FJY4CtK2mapUTmIsz_ZO6ZVersjaIgPUEzzKkBr_l5D9U9gxkJYmcr5cQUzrMFFoh4TG2R0Hu7bCzwj6jId3MT9cx9vKHNDrb1wVuijgssBBo4YMdm2Kb2gJz2OitG/s2048/IMG_20210318_105710705-001.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1501" data-original-width="2048" height="294" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjd-drcfzQntA7AS7FJY4CtK2mapUTmIsz_ZO6ZVersjaIgPUEzzKkBr_l5D9U9gxkJYmcr5cQUzrMFFoh4TG2R0Hu7bCzwj6jId3MT9cx9vKHNDrb1wVuijgssBBo4YMdm2Kb2gJz2OitG/w400-h294/IMG_20210318_105710705-001.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNBzkQpLeMzR6TitYrsggGjzbUgiOBgOnyz4eA7ztc6eOKXC2v1JkL9oiZGpfAT_-TZPHYkN22TdRCoi_5MF-bOzy12ECaz6LsIwj8C_s6035-RstcL_GyE35NTP02GwUer2svhwkGtHhn/s5184/P1010605.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3888" data-original-width="5184" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNBzkQpLeMzR6TitYrsggGjzbUgiOBgOnyz4eA7ztc6eOKXC2v1JkL9oiZGpfAT_-TZPHYkN22TdRCoi_5MF-bOzy12ECaz6LsIwj8C_s6035-RstcL_GyE35NTP02GwUer2svhwkGtHhn/w400-h300/P1010605.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><br /><p>I was well into writing the third book in the ‘Losing Time’ series, until my vaccinations caused my inspiration to dry up. This has been incredibly frustrating. Only now am I beginning to put together the next stage of the plot in my mind, and I hope soon to be able to make some sense of the ideas and get them recorded. I have introduced some interesting new characters, as well as revealing the not-so-enchanting side of someone who we all thought was 'on our side' in the previous book. It all makes for enjoyable and sometimes challenging writing!</p><p>The unseasonal weather has delayed many things in the garden: plants and trees are well behind, as is progress in the greenhouse. However there have been some little moments of joy, and I leave you with these and the hope that all is going well with you despite the challenges which have been heaped upon us recently. We are a tough species, and working our way through the lockdown loneliness and depressing Winter/Spring has not been easy. Look after yourselves!</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjn5hFyNxHuary_zF4oXHLuTANzmPWPNrt0XjziKamIq8N1sv7KPYF1v-HpcJQsqt9CDUmtpeGw0uAhCwtso_0nQ34iU1p-NBIIjivGQ7xyKzkjDAB98kSsNtdi9GuHwDFXdydhn30TB-h7/s2048/DSCN3998-001.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1635" data-original-width="2048" height="510" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjn5hFyNxHuary_zF4oXHLuTANzmPWPNrt0XjziKamIq8N1sv7KPYF1v-HpcJQsqt9CDUmtpeGw0uAhCwtso_0nQ34iU1p-NBIIjivGQ7xyKzkjDAB98kSsNtdi9GuHwDFXdydhn30TB-h7/w640-h510/DSCN3998-001.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoQpaDOH_m3drkvAFqTHC8cbPYTm8KVroSgAc6-INZBOdw1df71L5c_5BFJdiA3rTxfiikOp9eu3hTlspAzaMLdiaMK36_IUpC1aUgVL37L9c1k1nMqEWcAlOXYyasR7Q37Iuab-PqJMJE/s2048/DSCN4006-001.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="2012" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoQpaDOH_m3drkvAFqTHC8cbPYTm8KVroSgAc6-INZBOdw1df71L5c_5BFJdiA3rTxfiikOp9eu3hTlspAzaMLdiaMK36_IUpC1aUgVL37L9c1k1nMqEWcAlOXYyasR7Q37Iuab-PqJMJE/w393-h400/DSCN4006-001.JPG" width="393" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3xlvHqdDxCaU8XqRLhO9tjnDMC9Ad7G1e-GRE7IIjaeD8io00VQkhIUyd3XgGhqjxYb25hUqIyWjKUaSxmWtbp-FcdDeFRePHv6IK9xWuq1-OO4ft_W_IK0J2pKoGktGwnn23Co8_eoLo/s2048/DSCN4012.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1550" data-original-width="2048" height="484" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3xlvHqdDxCaU8XqRLhO9tjnDMC9Ad7G1e-GRE7IIjaeD8io00VQkhIUyd3XgGhqjxYb25hUqIyWjKUaSxmWtbp-FcdDeFRePHv6IK9xWuq1-OO4ft_W_IK0J2pKoGktGwnn23Co8_eoLo/w640-h484/DSCN4012.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7sVXKMQpM-OwYSYQ7Xy36nT6VavKp70pbFG40UvPH42lK6PhTOYFMupZrldrPfjxjw-Keh1i2kTwOcLNBAcXut0wqmcmvGRjqhvdAn6ilk1YE2hV_LnTozwKYkSzspxmS8TBZ809RjgO1/s5184/P1010807.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3888" data-original-width="5184" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7sVXKMQpM-OwYSYQ7Xy36nT6VavKp70pbFG40UvPH42lK6PhTOYFMupZrldrPfjxjw-Keh1i2kTwOcLNBAcXut0wqmcmvGRjqhvdAn6ilk1YE2hV_LnTozwKYkSzspxmS8TBZ809RjgO1/w640-h480/P1010807.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p><p> </p>P R Fordhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09634848272422307580noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8792902209446838780.post-54688126519621015282021-02-13T16:26:00.000+00:002021-02-13T16:26:46.099+00:00ENDURANCE<p> An easterly wind blew like a train across this corner of
Devon over the last few days. Leaves and small branches sailed high in the air around
the lawn, and empty pots which I’d forgotten to put away rolled like uncontrolled
wheels into far flowerbeds. It brought with it a bitterly cold blast, the kind
which chills every forgotten corner and exposed finger.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtYp0-y3ZHvbjbI-ajolHdUsn6-1t_sTDozz4IduYU6PIA1pXsUEFxZuOJNhjxJQbIYkjDBKB7Ah1LUnFODKBgI-YxOU8oTz3zebbSYVLQbujg61Gi8WaNTrQHXniXIX1l6VCUC2eJuEIz/s2048/1-IMG_20170209_171015654+%252821%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1294" data-original-width="2048" height="404" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtYp0-y3ZHvbjbI-ajolHdUsn6-1t_sTDozz4IduYU6PIA1pXsUEFxZuOJNhjxJQbIYkjDBKB7Ah1LUnFODKBgI-YxOU8oTz3zebbSYVLQbujg61Gi8WaNTrQHXniXIX1l6VCUC2eJuEIz/w640-h404/1-IMG_20170209_171015654+%252821%2529.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="text-align: left;">In a bizarre echo of the weather, my first Covid-19
vaccination knocked me for six too. If you don’t want to hear what happened,
stop reading now and look only at the pictures. Because it’s been a rocky forty-eight
hours… The inoculation itself was easy, even though I don’t enjoy any kind of ‘jab’
and always turn away from the endless film shots on TV news of people being
vaccinated. Mine went smoothly and I arrived home feeling fine. My other half
received his two days earlier and whilst he had some side-effects they were
quite mild, so I thought I’d got away with it. The ‘flu-like symptoms’ hit me
after about six hours, when I turned very cold and went to bed. Despite hot
water bottles and blankets over the duvet, I shivered violently for half an
hour before falling into what felt like a drugged sleep. I woke a few times
from the most vivid of dreams, heart pounding, only to lapse back into more of
the same. Yesterday I endured the same drugged feeling and a bad headache,
unable even to turn on the computer, or read. Only today has the real ‘me’ resurfaced,
thankful to have returned from my zombie state to the land of the living. Oh,
and this morning my arm aches, but it’s nothing compared to the rest!</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="text-align: left;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgq0iTk3jn5ZuWFm26tkW_6SJwFcUVx7EFZazx1kqctompj5HMG-DB7qLKO7NRHpfshrE84_kLK1u_U5vkaLc4reoXFeriZuLSU-aGXxS3JVvRTm4ngW1UQT_JZjPjP9IyDQPhDOaAJWJUP/s2048/1-P1030372.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgq0iTk3jn5ZuWFm26tkW_6SJwFcUVx7EFZazx1kqctompj5HMG-DB7qLKO7NRHpfshrE84_kLK1u_U5vkaLc4reoXFeriZuLSU-aGXxS3JVvRTm4ngW1UQT_JZjPjP9IyDQPhDOaAJWJUP/w300-h400/1-P1030372.JPG" width="300" /></a></div><span style="text-align: left;">What have I learned from this? I will tell my brother, and
the other members of my family who may be similarly affected, (and you) to
prepare as though for a short bout of flu. Get in all the food you need,
because you won’t want to go out or even to receive deliveries. Make sure you
have plenty of hot drinks, and paracetamol at the ready. And remember, it only
lasts a couple of days or so.</span></div><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I can’t tell you whether or not to be vaccinated – that decision
is for you alone. What I can say is that I chose it, and if whatever has been
injected into me is an experiment, well - life is pretty much an experiment too,
isn’t it?</p><p class="MsoNormal"> *</p><p class="MsoNormal">My February photos are not current, because I haven’t felt in a mood for photography – and I’ve been too busy writing my third book, whose ideas kept me going when I was feeling so bad. All of them, though, were taken in February.</p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHA5OikK0BXWSy8yyG9XypakAq3DP14FLouAFmnRvegrOrgctq_DfTotCaAqmMbKrhQA-rT83iDtTWM1E3en8zNjDjLICFEpKBQR7TNM0D2mOItP6I2TMk0NTzHW4uJ2KRX6RQvR_BTUV2/s2048/3-P1020108.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1365" data-original-width="2048" height="228" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHA5OikK0BXWSy8yyG9XypakAq3DP14FLouAFmnRvegrOrgctq_DfTotCaAqmMbKrhQA-rT83iDtTWM1E3en8zNjDjLICFEpKBQR7TNM0D2mOItP6I2TMk0NTzHW4uJ2KRX6RQvR_BTUV2/w342-h228/3-P1020108.JPG" width="342" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIwAn03A9v4FAq0COJR37qmuRioS8ttFRupx4czq2Cy7JrMBrb7IHQWFaNuhkxCe9418Om5d3VluXPz_bfF3gBnNVf50ovosJXrDZCd3rD8oxXXuovVUmEEZntCXnG44pTiQI0gO3_5hIb/s2048/4-P1020111.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1365" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIwAn03A9v4FAq0COJR37qmuRioS8ttFRupx4czq2Cy7JrMBrb7IHQWFaNuhkxCe9418Om5d3VluXPz_bfF3gBnNVf50ovosJXrDZCd3rD8oxXXuovVUmEEZntCXnG44pTiQI0gO3_5hIb/s320/4-P1020111.JPG" /></a></div><br /><p class="MsoNormal">The ‘windy’ photo was taken in February 2017 passing Dartmoor. The snow was 2015 in our garden. The drifts of snowdrops
were photographed when we lived in Mid-Devon, in 2014. The little Wren was snapped
by my son, but the Robin is mine, and I hope they will bring you a little joy
in this most difficult of times.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGBNzLquv8kIfMkhckag6tUxaxn5zRkIruohQz2qLx2fBQW37_ENLGx0xDtIaXTH5sst0ecx1ARs-0nyTSPPu1NTrqhLYyXFiELs5eax6rWwvTQuw1oEFrcqLywgYB4xyKQ8uSBnPtVXPl/s2048/2-7D1_7979.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGBNzLquv8kIfMkhckag6tUxaxn5zRkIruohQz2qLx2fBQW37_ENLGx0xDtIaXTH5sst0ecx1ARs-0nyTSPPu1NTrqhLYyXFiELs5eax6rWwvTQuw1oEFrcqLywgYB4xyKQ8uSBnPtVXPl/s320/2-7D1_7979.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNjIRq8-iVQm__o1bT0xs9g4dmGEgtAvujaltkKljBkdmqDjJJglDbbdM-5ut8tEYyyZOMKDPv7zrHOZdX3dZ8GDykxCIN7PKLDtfyEswf4H1WtoUYJ8tG8qpRdRY9c62lnp9zi3xBpgGf/s2048/5-P1100971+%25282%2529.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1567" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNjIRq8-iVQm__o1bT0xs9g4dmGEgtAvujaltkKljBkdmqDjJJglDbbdM-5ut8tEYyyZOMKDPv7zrHOZdX3dZ8GDykxCIN7PKLDtfyEswf4H1WtoUYJ8tG8qpRdRY9c62lnp9zi3xBpgGf/s320/5-P1100971+%25282%2529.JPG" /></a></div><br /><p class="MsoNormal">Next time I write, there will be cherry blossom…</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p>
<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: center;"><i>Blow,
blow, thou winter wind,<o:p></o:p></i></p>
<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: center;"><i>Thou
art not so unkind<o:p></o:p></i></p>
<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: center;"><i>As
man’s ingratitude;<o:p></o:p></i></p>
<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: center;"><i>Thy
tooth is not so keen,<o:p></o:p></i></p>
<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: center;"><i>Because
thou art not seen,<o:p></o:p></i></p>
<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: center;"><i>Although
thy breath be rude.<o:p></o:p></i></p>
<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: center;"><i>Heigh-ho!
sing, heigh-ho! unto the green holly:<o:p></o:p></i></p>
<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: center;"><i>Most
friendship is feigning, most loving mere folly:<o:p></o:p></i></p>
<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: center;"><i>Then,
heigh-ho, the holly!<o:p></o:p></i></p>
<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: center;"><i>This
life is most jolly.<o:p></o:p></i></p>
<p class="MsoListParagraph" style="line-height: normal; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-align: right; text-indent: -0.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]-->-<span style="font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal;">
</span><!--[endif]--><i>William Shakespeare<o:p></o:p></i></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: right;"><br /></p>P R Fordhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09634848272422307580noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8792902209446838780.post-36210031184918234782021-02-01T16:47:00.000+00:002021-02-01T16:47:21.046+00:00SLEEP<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGpY6SdL3nMsiqfAjWbGxmAhmeFtIP-83gKSs1gi-6_yGMxLnlobp6k9XIoykVaCr7meQHi9f0ixT4QZfLB-jz9wIe-hFYZjNuQGlCaSWxb_uQSE-bXkVQOb_EM3tNhIvpLRHiJfUdQymw/s2048/1-P1060291-001.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGpY6SdL3nMsiqfAjWbGxmAhmeFtIP-83gKSs1gi-6_yGMxLnlobp6k9XIoykVaCr7meQHi9f0ixT4QZfLB-jz9wIe-hFYZjNuQGlCaSWxb_uQSE-bXkVQOb_EM3tNhIvpLRHiJfUdQymw/w640-h480/1-P1060291-001.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br /> <i>“To die, to sleep – to sleep, perchance to dream – ay,
there's the rub, for in this sleep of death what dreams may come…” (William Shakespeare:
Hamlet) This is said by Hamlet to himself when he thinks he is alone.</i><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Forgetting the words ‘die’ and ‘death’, I use this quote
today, on the first day of a new month, to describe the troubled sleep many of
us are experiencing at the moment. For me, the problem falls into two
categories, the first of which is insomnia. Lying awake, trying to sleep yet
unable to set aside not just the worries of today or yesterday, but odd and
random perplexities from the past. Why did I do that? Why did I say such awful
things? Why didn’t I choose another path? From the number of articles I’ve been
reading in the newspapers recently, this appears to be a common problem – and a
very instinctively human one. Dr Jenna Macciochi, immunologist, says: '...
sleep is the foundation of the immune system, and worrying about insomnia only
exacerbates it'. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">According to a study commissioned for the Daily Telegraph, “the
nation has been gripped by sleeplessness... Fear is the bane of a good night's
sleep.” The main factors cited in a survey are: work worries; financial stress;
anxiety; depression and loneliness. “Sleep is a biological process that cannot
be controlled. The more you seek to do so, the further it slips from reach.”
One idea I have gleaned from this interesting article is this: “When our brains
race over old feuds, regrets, work crises and family fears at night, that is an
evolutionary response described as 'our brain default mode network' which is
like a filing system. For this simple reason, when the storm clouds of negative
thoughts pass over at night, we need to say: 'Thank you, brain' and see the
thoughts simply as words and images passing through our minds, rather than getting
bogged down in emotion. A good night's sleep boils down to the 'paradox of
acceptance'. When you can let go of the idea that you need to be asleep, you
remove the obstacles preventing you from getting there.”<o:p></o:p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6_UGzOoRuyLLQdHEELU8YwhWu4TSX6KUg9gvnKUPvRbd7KnT4X9jMtAy2jnL7NS08dp1Ia95Zy9Mp1NJBRmUSStjjYytjL06t2przGkl21tWO7S1fKfv3vpzrbBWFIXppifP8_Ipemyr_/s2048/1-P1010421.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1365" data-original-width="2048" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6_UGzOoRuyLLQdHEELU8YwhWu4TSX6KUg9gvnKUPvRbd7KnT4X9jMtAy2jnL7NS08dp1Ia95Zy9Mp1NJBRmUSStjjYytjL06t2przGkl21tWO7S1fKfv3vpzrbBWFIXppifP8_Ipemyr_/w400-h266/1-P1010421.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><br /><p class="MsoNormal">When my brother and I were children, my late mother used to tell us not to worry if we couldn’t sleep, because at least the body was
resting. Part of this is true: however much we toss and turn, we are resting from being upright, and I have always found the idea both comforting and relaxing.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">The second problem, which has been affecting members of my
own family, is heavy, vivid dreaming and nightmares. Again, this is probably
easily explained by science and the pandemic. My dreams have been
extraordinarily vivid. The other night I dreamt I was shopping in D H Evans (which used
to be a department store in London) with my mother – years ago, because she was
young. We were looking at material: beautiful, brightly coloured fabrics spread
out over huge counters. This dream felt so real that I woke up with a start,
surprised to find everything fading away – as dreams do. In others I have been
troubled, lost and pursued, unable to find my way home. I don’t have an answer
for this, and I don’t know whether it’s preferable to insomnia!<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><o:p> *</o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4WbLgaa-y92exlIqcSD88Pf8FWQ7efwUUDbiU4FiGB8_XviQclHc1-PzyYmwDl_2BsOoiYY72aMUso-Zc9axqqYkasbRm5Fr3yIDk7LNhMe_x74g0ZMQcrCqoN0r7q8B_JZO2rVm20ffe/s2048/1-P1130502.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1365" data-original-width="2048" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4WbLgaa-y92exlIqcSD88Pf8FWQ7efwUUDbiU4FiGB8_XviQclHc1-PzyYmwDl_2BsOoiYY72aMUso-Zc9axqqYkasbRm5Fr3yIDk7LNhMe_x74g0ZMQcrCqoN0r7q8B_JZO2rVm20ffe/w640-h426/1-P1130502.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br />Here we are on the first day of February, and I have to say
that in my particular neck of the woods it’s a sombre, grey day, dripping with
damp – like so many others we seem to be experiencing at the moment. To cheer
us all up, I’m adding a few colourful photos. The cherry blossom photo was
taken at the end of February last year, so we have that joy to come and I
promise to post the best of it here. <o:p></o:p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiv2mNr-mvr3GUWeTNCCcwDgf8RqICDxJm7_NPOC2kZqKF6xzBglTQGVjfbPHa9yyA90gm_tjGzhgC0HFKBAUtSiBOHHwUDkX46G5jTGFPwDhUw5xqInoQWHCouBCTNJ6gsX2gZVJVAzCfk/s4320/1-P1050952-001.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2880" data-original-width="4320" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiv2mNr-mvr3GUWeTNCCcwDgf8RqICDxJm7_NPOC2kZqKF6xzBglTQGVjfbPHa9yyA90gm_tjGzhgC0HFKBAUtSiBOHHwUDkX46G5jTGFPwDhUw5xqInoQWHCouBCTNJ6gsX2gZVJVAzCfk/w400-h266/1-P1050952-001.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZ0tOKnwPfGESIgi9rAyhjpqS7DLYmCiQC172lJUziOhr66XBAILQCUln8THHRNUVXzv5JoSvFIdJEe3Zob8cUio8oUd6vvGBKMGh1lbc5rEoA_l1tu-DeYX5l3BkhXiK4rOjDDwFwuo0U/s2048/1-P1100981.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZ0tOKnwPfGESIgi9rAyhjpqS7DLYmCiQC172lJUziOhr66XBAILQCUln8THHRNUVXzv5JoSvFIdJEe3Zob8cUio8oUd6vvGBKMGh1lbc5rEoA_l1tu-DeYX5l3BkhXiK4rOjDDwFwuo0U/w300-h400/1-P1100981.JPG" width="300" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">*</div><p class="MsoNormal">And why, you may ask, does this article begin with a picture of the sea? Well first of all, it is a cheerful photo of a lovely beach, but more importantly it is connected to what I was saying earlier. The other night I attempted to chase away all the noise in my pre-sleep mind with this picture, and I imagined walking along that beach, barefoot, and paddling in the cold water. I tried to hear the wonderful noise of the tide, as I marched along an endless stretch of sand. And I think it may have worked, because I don't remember any more! The photo below is me doing exactly what I've been describing, back in 2014.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtbc6fhQ6kvLqfVk65hyn3WY3iF1XOY47DN4DDlw2RVzBair5StHZHwlMG7hll5CDnTRutmVy5blvLWQPMP6Xv7SEX9b6o2vLM805BZ-0JoQpOo3bcS2twrjFbIwtQnsV72idVIrBMFkQK/s2048/5-P1000283+%25282%2529-001.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1583" data-original-width="2048" height="309" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtbc6fhQ6kvLqfVk65hyn3WY3iF1XOY47DN4DDlw2RVzBair5StHZHwlMG7hll5CDnTRutmVy5blvLWQPMP6Xv7SEX9b6o2vLM805BZ-0JoQpOo3bcS2twrjFbIwtQnsV72idVIrBMFkQK/w400-h309/5-P1000283+%25282%2529-001.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><br /><p class="MsoNormal">I hope my article will be of help to any of you who are suffering from lack of sleep, or bad sleep. I am indebted to the Daily Telegraph for the passages quoted above, and for helping me in my search for answers on this most important of topics. Should anyone be interested, the link is here, but may not be readable without a subscription to that newspaper: <a href="https://digitaleditions.telegraph.co.uk/data/471/reader/reader.html?#!preferred/0/package/471/pub/471/page/76/article/120809" target="_blank">'Say Goodnight to Insomnia During Lockdown'</a></p><p class="MsoNormal">Take care, all of you, and - dare I say it - sweet dreams.</p>P R Fordhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09634848272422307580noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8792902209446838780.post-17005553885203661402021-01-05T17:02:00.000+00:002021-01-05T17:02:27.372+00:00STALWART<div style="text-align: justify;">This new year 2021 opens at a time when we need to be brave. Let’s face it, we knew something like this would blow back at us, and it would be foolish to react in a negative way. This time we need to stand up to the deprivations – after all, they are minor in comparison to some of the things people across the world live through on a daily basis: extreme weather, famine, war and terminal illness. </div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbepq5_-W398qvaFZFqBiH6f6zlNfU-_Hap90GhD7iEKyiRi-80wnam0zkJjYpaTFbLMeoW7F_-66mi3KB2suX2YKLD2PzmEjH0as5TUxiLDOkJXCHOEfwHfbhegoc5cSiF3Bln-IclT0s/s2048/IMG_20210101_081249705.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbepq5_-W398qvaFZFqBiH6f6zlNfU-_Hap90GhD7iEKyiRi-80wnam0zkJjYpaTFbLMeoW7F_-66mi3KB2suX2YKLD2PzmEjH0as5TUxiLDOkJXCHOEfwHfbhegoc5cSiF3Bln-IclT0s/w640-h480/IMG_20210101_081249705.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">This year, whether or not you are cynical about the pandemic and the way in which the government is reacting to it, perhaps try to put a more positive focus on your life and what you are doing. If you live alone, this is incredibly hard. Can you build some projects into your daily routine? Do you have friends on the end of a telephone line or on the internet to whom you can talk, giving them the benefit of your wisdom and experience? Is it possible to change something which has always annoyed you, such as tidying out a cupboard or moving a piece of furniture? Ask yourself what you can do to improve things. </div><div><br /></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZQDkk6UdgVa5YsZbhRKPKU3uJqvGoKN2p1Gs3O1kCfSKSX5iPQj7eTQzy3syenEkv55AtQVvFJhPlawMMLsNtTrb284msBLv9_FtucOITYVyDR94NjIxn0gC5b8ZdvVWhSieDTCtKtcgE/s1974/P1010163-001+%25282%2529.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1783" data-original-width="1974" height="307" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZQDkk6UdgVa5YsZbhRKPKU3uJqvGoKN2p1Gs3O1kCfSKSX5iPQj7eTQzy3syenEkv55AtQVvFJhPlawMMLsNtTrb284msBLv9_FtucOITYVyDR94NjIxn0gC5b8ZdvVWhSieDTCtKtcgE/w340-h307/P1010163-001+%25282%2529.JPG" width="340" /></a></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Take a look at the pictures on the walls around you – if you have any on display. Do you really like them… still? Or if your walls are bare, could you pin up some cheerful or inspiring pictures or posters, or even a calendar? Once you start thinking about your surroundings in this way, you become more creative and positive. I won’t labour the point: you know what to do! Just don’t let the depressing news drive you to complacency and giving up. </div></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Last year I spent a lot of time either gardening, doing housework and cooking meals, and sitting at my computer not really doing very much! This year I intend to write as much as possible, turning the opportunity the quietude gives to my advantage. Yes, I will be gardening, although perhaps I won’t sow as many tomato seeds as last year (far too many - although they were all delicious) and I might consider how I could change some of the flower beds. Here are just a few of the tomatoes I harvested. I also grew some cucumbers and - again - four plants is three too many!</div><div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjizgzBZYzChEySmayxsWDC-mxrM7Jj5MRbAdECC6_emDLK8d2VSXma2noZl4R5k0QlIONJ0bwlOeC-HWOMUBLXkEn8GpNk-UmNmKPaAhP7PlV0BBDNymNlOTGT_33e1ODIUlTj3U_UYzH/s4608/IMG_20200815_123900854_HDR.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4608" data-original-width="3456" height="256" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjizgzBZYzChEySmayxsWDC-mxrM7Jj5MRbAdECC6_emDLK8d2VSXma2noZl4R5k0QlIONJ0bwlOeC-HWOMUBLXkEn8GpNk-UmNmKPaAhP7PlV0BBDNymNlOTGT_33e1ODIUlTj3U_UYzH/w192-h256/IMG_20200815_123900854_HDR.jpg" width="192" /></a></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoPxFdMCKe3ONJNu_M7zbPQssEVxiZDQubLN0DL-jwNs1mgE5yBlubgtgyqgl3Auj8cnLeZ7Im6fpr40aZCmLYSZP8TcFk_gXxYGhYqnZSMeqxSJimQqEW0J6TYykQbZSPzZ2hKOuZeQsZ/s4608/IMG_20200815_124005437.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; display: inline !important; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4608" data-original-width="3456" height="252" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoPxFdMCKe3ONJNu_M7zbPQssEVxiZDQubLN0DL-jwNs1mgE5yBlubgtgyqgl3Auj8cnLeZ7Im6fpr40aZCmLYSZP8TcFk_gXxYGhYqnZSMeqxSJimQqEW0J6TYykQbZSPzZ2hKOuZeQsZ/w189-h252/IMG_20200815_124005437.jpg" width="189" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghAzewVZJI6YpVZD3bWMt1gFmZxkiFdG5kdDG8ElGxW0X0Gq1s67AIkTXI2NMKICXoVHLoOgWuMflCzHk9Bse-OjuKJQ7TbjjIGCkas3qwABFk3-jDJDv8N4Fo3Bq9axEo3gBt9gskgDQ7/s4608/IMG_20200809_130229028.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4608" data-original-width="3456" height="250" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghAzewVZJI6YpVZD3bWMt1gFmZxkiFdG5kdDG8ElGxW0X0Gq1s67AIkTXI2NMKICXoVHLoOgWuMflCzHk9Bse-OjuKJQ7TbjjIGCkas3qwABFk3-jDJDv8N4Fo3Bq9axEo3gBt9gskgDQ7/w188-h250/IMG_20200809_130229028.jpg" width="188" /></a><br /><br /></div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">January is throwing some cold and frosty weather at us, and here in this corner of Devon we had a fair amount of snow. I hope I’ve done everything I can to save my tender plants, but yesterday I noticed some pelargoniums which I had completely forgotten about. Instead of having been dug up and moved into the greenhouse they stood forlornly in one of the flower beds, brown and dead from the frosty cold nights. I think (hope) I took some cuttings last Autumn, otherwise I have lost them completely. </div><div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJ2KYGXgq0k0leF78pu9ybh56iidwLY4ZYx_4H8qmvVtxAQUj3Va500O4REhZvzM7KjhSUZEHyvJUMwEwOCnkEuD-H-o3F5E-mhvtpmZixB1voB9puMpvuXVR3_kpke6e9eSihDLJTTkPG/s5184/P1010139+%25282%2529.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3888" data-original-width="5184" height="271" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJ2KYGXgq0k0leF78pu9ybh56iidwLY4ZYx_4H8qmvVtxAQUj3Va500O4REhZvzM7KjhSUZEHyvJUMwEwOCnkEuD-H-o3F5E-mhvtpmZixB1voB9puMpvuXVR3_kpke6e9eSihDLJTTkPG/w361-h271/P1010139+%25282%2529.JPG" width="361" /></a></div></div><div style="text-align: justify;">But the joy of seeing some of the other plants still standing, stalwart against the freezing winds, far outweighs the sadness of those lost. The sedums have weathered the snow with beautiful mounds of icy snowflakes gathering on their crowns. These stems will of course be cut down in the spring, ready for the new growth. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Below: a blackbird forages and daffodils are beginning to show!</div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUh_tzUJr37Nq9Dd3UIghFIXdL4eqKEPx2d0Rfa9DsYmDNppeymqpnbkIYUvAxT4i2u4UzDBErv6DyXtTjbAixKSQgfo1m9AsFsBCOKhPJX8akftpOEtmXNVJAN-7jlLwWK74QMLKdYqTi/s5184/P1010153.JPG" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="3888" data-original-width="5184" height="332" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUh_tzUJr37Nq9Dd3UIghFIXdL4eqKEPx2d0Rfa9DsYmDNppeymqpnbkIYUvAxT4i2u4UzDBErv6DyXtTjbAixKSQgfo1m9AsFsBCOKhPJX8akftpOEtmXNVJAN-7jlLwWK74QMLKdYqTi/w443-h332/P1010153.JPG" width="443" /></a></div></div><div><br /></div><div>I took a short, cold walk this afternoon with my new camera to try and capture some scenes for this blog. The sun was shining, turning the starkest bare branches into beautiful shapes, and there were cows grazing in the field beyond our house. My fingers turned to ice as I snapped away, but I am pleased with the results.</div><div> </div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdwUIOpg3rhvY7Asb6hc34EOQqCEFqQQO6PdtFLP2ntMF9C4XLSA8Ro1tqSTshe5A8YKIVzPEbudWHE4cvsoZIPtdZOvCq8VYp11zZh7dOpIzyewLH9DqSKZj16jNpusHEYejbS4drtrl4/s5184/P1010184.JPG" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="3888" data-original-width="5184" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdwUIOpg3rhvY7Asb6hc34EOQqCEFqQQO6PdtFLP2ntMF9C4XLSA8Ro1tqSTshe5A8YKIVzPEbudWHE4cvsoZIPtdZOvCq8VYp11zZh7dOpIzyewLH9DqSKZj16jNpusHEYejbS4drtrl4/w640-h480/P1010184.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyn_qolHfIH8-YAHrprU85YOd_qBm2tKQNM2bIIhG3zP5pgsR6WhJ-Xc3XArOATOWBbcOI_U3VvmwJLIcXtC3ZpmUpfXGo1mXt9NXgY6wECGIppDonX8XUIYk21Tafa_CVWqQmHVFsJ7YC/s5184/P1010192+%25282%2529.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3888" data-original-width="5184" height="481" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyn_qolHfIH8-YAHrprU85YOd_qBm2tKQNM2bIIhG3zP5pgsR6WhJ-Xc3XArOATOWBbcOI_U3VvmwJLIcXtC3ZpmUpfXGo1mXt9NXgY6wECGIppDonX8XUIYk21Tafa_CVWqQmHVFsJ7YC/w640-h481/P1010192+%25282%2529.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="text-align: left;">Finally, something which caught my eye on a social media page - which I hope will make you smile. Many of us remember 'Winnie-the-Pooh' by A.A. Milne from our younger days in the original book format. I had forgotten its delights until I found this little gem from Christopher Robin Milne, the author's son. I don't know if the quote comes from the book or whether he has written it himself, but it means something to all of us at the present time. Look after yourselves, and stay safe.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUg-xJQh3oJ9yLvaT2qYM2iZsthybFyCkjWU6F1Z3sIb_LWOgg7NPfkfkat0qWi-t-HwQu0fRsAtNZ0HkepcXR1aAUJ939A-vw1T8XPBjatv4D5sDCodsIkqZSPJFTUTpjohbviZyNWgLZ/s643/Fullscreen+capture+05012021+155954.jpg" style="display: inline !important; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; padding: 1em 0px;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="596" data-original-width="643" height="434" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUg-xJQh3oJ9yLvaT2qYM2iZsthybFyCkjWU6F1Z3sIb_LWOgg7NPfkfkat0qWi-t-HwQu0fRsAtNZ0HkepcXR1aAUJ939A-vw1T8XPBjatv4D5sDCodsIkqZSPJFTUTpjohbviZyNWgLZ/w468-h434/Fullscreen+capture+05012021+155954.jpg" width="468" /></a></div></div></div></div>P R Fordhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09634848272422307580noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8792902209446838780.post-84699079526087634912020-12-05T16:19:00.001+00:002020-12-05T16:19:47.097+00:00WINTER LIGHT<p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGGIbTCW6l9nawqpxJrqZIi-J_9qvs6P1GLd8u2a1YE4xpY3Ipp1CoFc6lBqxUat8L2RvF8RoVhFaEB-IQOKxkLIODVdmZ0m4Qr6aUfBfprbTXyRTHdRohDIZw-iJ3RyXcJf20p1zsolt7/s2048/DSCN3756.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGGIbTCW6l9nawqpxJrqZIi-J_9qvs6P1GLd8u2a1YE4xpY3Ipp1CoFc6lBqxUat8L2RvF8RoVhFaEB-IQOKxkLIODVdmZ0m4Qr6aUfBfprbTXyRTHdRohDIZw-iJ3RyXcJf20p1zsolt7/w640-h480/DSCN3756.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">Sunrise, 1st December 2020</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /> As we approach the Winter Solstice, I find myself checking daily the times of sunrise and sunset. This has become a ritual, available on my ‘weather app’ and consulted whilst drinking the first mug of tea of the day. Today, sunrise was after 8.00am – always a bit of a blow. Sunset at 4.15pm is not a surprise, as the light seems to grow duller from around half past three, which is the time when I usually close up the greenhouse for the night, lighting the paraffin stove when necessary. Correction: it is more often than not my kind spouse who does this now, when the air is rather too cold for an asthmatic to breathe in.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHZBZAJHZ4DzLcuwZzorpX6DfjawiyuD9x9QINxmkmPY1EP9bt1UKh4Fka6WB7Zh0_3FV9xh7569fUljtGPQt8UqD61cGYUmO1S03r_8t5N2L1g-v2zbGhlY2WG0iPQaLeZhcYsI6sjhwX/s2013/DSCN3781+%25283%2529.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1543" data-original-width="2013" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHZBZAJHZ4DzLcuwZzorpX6DfjawiyuD9x9QINxmkmPY1EP9bt1UKh4Fka6WB7Zh0_3FV9xh7569fUljtGPQt8UqD61cGYUmO1S03r_8t5N2L1g-v2zbGhlY2WG0iPQaLeZhcYsI6sjhwX/s320/DSCN3781+%25283%2529.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><p>Cold air tends to mean a brighter sky though, and we all need as much light as we can get here in Britain during the Winter months. Moments of cheer appear in the garden, and you can imagine my delight to have spotted this primrose, apparently oblivious to the season, flowering in a corner close to the raspberry bushes.</p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p>The early sun casts long shadows over the lawn, creating a completely different garden, with soft pastel colours and sharp skeletal forms. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVal3uc9FaSiKtF8cM4bJ2HIdShi0Bm2vmZcww-E6Bu5oFAlmIf_389wnu5_IAGX3jZ_MXtJWTVw22i7kK2cheZx77X2T_NH-kBslRA_HcCjvBlEM_yR1YlpDqGkK4oCtoK-sDlp5u-KAT/s2048/DSCN3705-001.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1849" data-original-width="2048" height="578" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVal3uc9FaSiKtF8cM4bJ2HIdShi0Bm2vmZcww-E6Bu5oFAlmIf_389wnu5_IAGX3jZ_MXtJWTVw22i7kK2cheZx77X2T_NH-kBslRA_HcCjvBlEM_yR1YlpDqGkK4oCtoK-sDlp5u-KAT/w640-h578/DSCN3705-001.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhDo6KZN2YEyu5xe1daztVH6yda4uIjXjOoEvaTfQaRYRAdVMai3BufhKCS0dcT6HdcwePjo1lMrW8mqri0T1ThqBrRbSqbKPqcGtqOBfqQxAuGLsZWu0btDeQeGGO__jyHws675ePUeZb/s2048/DSCN3701+%25282%2529.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1602" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhDo6KZN2YEyu5xe1daztVH6yda4uIjXjOoEvaTfQaRYRAdVMai3BufhKCS0dcT6HdcwePjo1lMrW8mqri0T1ThqBrRbSqbKPqcGtqOBfqQxAuGLsZWu0btDeQeGGO__jyHws675ePUeZb/w313-h400/DSCN3701+%25282%2529.JPG" width="313" /></a></div><div>The 'Annabelle' hydrangea has been transformed into something ethereal and ghostly when given a wash of a special process on my computer...</div><div><br /><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidoM82MQnOVXnK4XCciJ8Oz41A9hh5TkLJpPmhTLXBc9sTuh2_VWBggkQhLlYUMdHza4-dyy4q4ko2XMH_U3dWuObKFOGZj93MGsYzmUcu0L5znVGKpf3UG4yl38fR9ERaFsvn9RRll1cS/s2048/DSCN3728.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidoM82MQnOVXnK4XCciJ8Oz41A9hh5TkLJpPmhTLXBc9sTuh2_VWBggkQhLlYUMdHza4-dyy4q4ko2XMH_U3dWuObKFOGZj93MGsYzmUcu0L5znVGKpf3UG4yl38fR9ERaFsvn9RRll1cS/s2048/DSCN3728.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidoM82MQnOVXnK4XCciJ8Oz41A9hh5TkLJpPmhTLXBc9sTuh2_VWBggkQhLlYUMdHza4-dyy4q4ko2XMH_U3dWuObKFOGZj93MGsYzmUcu0L5znVGKpf3UG4yl38fR9ERaFsvn9RRll1cS/w400-h300/DSCN3728.JPG" width="400" /></a></div></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>And as the new blue flowers on the other hydrangea fade, they are beginning to blend in with the darker mauves of the old blooms.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">*</div><div>When the weather in November changed, making gardening more difficult, I turned to sorting out an enormous bundle of old photographs, some of which have been inherited from my parents and others simply packets of my own photos from the 1970s, 80s and 90s which had not yet been scanned onto my computer. Well, many of them have now, and although the task is often sad, many of the memories are happy ones, echoing with laughter and the voices of old friends and family. </div><div><br /></div><div>A couple of photos made me pause, remembering a day decades ago in an office in London where I was conducting a 'Lloyd's Audit' on a large group of Syndicates. In 1980, long before desk-top computers completely took over offices, the computer was so big that it was housed in an entire room. We audited its print-outs which emerged on huge, endless folded sheets of paper pre-printed with groups of green vertical lines and punched with holes on each side for filing in large cabinets. Most of the ledgers were manually written up by the accounts team, and we would bring in comptometer operators - ladies with odd-looking machines with lots of buttons - to add up and check the totals. All this sounds archaic now! Anyway, in February of this particular audit I took a few days off to get married to my first husband. The day before I left, the accounts team took me to the pub for lunch, and I do not remember much work being done that afternoon. So here we all are, for you to be amazed, and I hope the old-fashioned look of the desks will make you smile. The cigarette smoke would certainly not be allowed now!</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuxNjs_Iqf0A-2WoDyySeGPdOr1aJewcFu6vlehVasl-uPnkskFBWRDRB3Y0YgghgVeUKFWpAKaumtyvAsZg9mW2IbXf4BcLtmjjnqrzbfj5z9f9ZKXh3Pl5btPZLPUwDb_pPpsXOeDHP4/s2048/Janson+Green+80+001.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1642" data-original-width="2048" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuxNjs_Iqf0A-2WoDyySeGPdOr1aJewcFu6vlehVasl-uPnkskFBWRDRB3Y0YgghgVeUKFWpAKaumtyvAsZg9mW2IbXf4BcLtmjjnqrzbfj5z9f9ZKXh3Pl5btPZLPUwDb_pPpsXOeDHP4/s320/Janson+Green+80+001.jpg" width="320" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZSjk-7jQFpeUk8ceUfNPVZMY7bwqr_77OqaHQqY16g0lBC9sT8suFiTOLGFeamuORN0WEIn6hIGxkFCuwWMy9SWWrPQC66ri1HeY7BV2rNERjDDM4iGzovh1whQOiB65M8gmp-RGcu42N/s2048/Janson+Green+80+003.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1463" height="256" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZSjk-7jQFpeUk8ceUfNPVZMY7bwqr_77OqaHQqY16g0lBC9sT8suFiTOLGFeamuORN0WEIn6hIGxkFCuwWMy9SWWrPQC66ri1HeY7BV2rNERjDDM4iGzovh1whQOiB65M8gmp-RGcu42N/w183-h256/Janson+Green+80+003.jpg" width="183" /></a></div><br /><div>Sadly I do not know what happened to Paul, Tony, Len or Lesley... so if anyone recognises someone in the photo on the left, please send them my good wishes.</div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">*</div><div><br /></div><div>Finally, I found this little poem written out in my father's handwriting, for my mother. I found it touching, and I hope you will too. The author is anonymous.</div><div><br /></div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>A little work, a little play,</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>To keep us going — and so, good-day!</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i><br /></i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>A little warmth, a little light</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>Of love's bestowing — and so, good-night!</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i><br /></i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>A little fun, to match the sorrow</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>Of each day's growing — and so, good-morrow!</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i><br /></i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>A little trust, that when we die</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>We reap our sowing! and so — good-bye!</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i><br /></i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOHNOL81n4KCFr8mCVERcxCOC2ewoxyw7JNAewhDzBc1_xAqMqZkV6-kWGw0uHK4L5WPfkuvYE_SsGyZ39RDzCH2mdvgJgihQcEMXuzyyF0aNXQwzcwgsG7Cimb9UMxCwKsq6JjOUytgYh/s2048/1-P1110401.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1116" data-original-width="2048" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOHNOL81n4KCFr8mCVERcxCOC2ewoxyw7JNAewhDzBc1_xAqMqZkV6-kWGw0uHK4L5WPfkuvYE_SsGyZ39RDzCH2mdvgJgihQcEMXuzyyF0aNXQwzcwgsG7Cimb9UMxCwKsq6JjOUytgYh/s320/1-P1110401.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br /><i><br /></i></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /><p><br /></p><div><br /></div></div></div>P R Fordhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09634848272422307580noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8792902209446838780.post-3761652001346353992020-11-09T14:52:00.000+00:002020-11-09T14:52:02.358+00:00NOWHERE<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2jO37gu_I13GxoCkNvONyshRnb4w7wAqeCdUhhA0V82fH6YDh4yfsac72M_I3hoAho1ue5vdI6bR9jH5UDI7gwBQYZOX80kHID_M_l6HhfOc5b1oFwPCl0hAfCgTzv4GArSBoXrVOPFWU/s2048/1-P1010382+%25282%2529.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2jO37gu_I13GxoCkNvONyshRnb4w7wAqeCdUhhA0V82fH6YDh4yfsac72M_I3hoAho1ue5vdI6bR9jH5UDI7gwBQYZOX80kHID_M_l6HhfOc5b1oFwPCl0hAfCgTzv4GArSBoXrVOPFWU/w640-h480/1-P1010382+%25282%2529.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br /> ‘Um,’ typed my friend H as we held the usual online conversation a couple of weeks ago, and in answer to my inane query as to how he was doing. ‘Still trying to understand what Tier two actually means. I try to carry on as usual with masked precautions and social distancing etc. But I have to look up what the new Tier two restrictions are, as they are not delivered by a dalek or even a Morris van with a loudspeaker on the roof like they would have been forty years ago. To be honest, it, the whole Covid-19 situation, makes me pine for the 1970's.’ <p></p><p>I am old enough identify with his final remark, and to miss the simplicity and straightforwardness of life then, not to mention the genuine freedom we experienced, and which younger generations will never know. </p><p><br /></p><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9L097dPqCDnBRnvJWrtAmZfI6qe7FV96KIEiuWgcbAzNB3COv40hVOfLhamy3796NqDqN745vzFX8xYp5Iv3Wcvxm5Qhxbq5Q3CIKd3WVURfvEJnDmJOVaMmasDyjnjMhrRB4rqmPNOdk/s2048/image0+%25283%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1482" height="311" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9L097dPqCDnBRnvJWrtAmZfI6qe7FV96KIEiuWgcbAzNB3COv40hVOfLhamy3796NqDqN745vzFX8xYp5Iv3Wcvxm5Qhxbq5Q3CIKd3WVURfvEJnDmJOVaMmasDyjnjMhrRB4rqmPNOdk/w225-h311/image0+%25283%2529.jpg" width="225" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">View from The Monument 1979</span></td></tr></tbody></table><p></p><p>It doesn’t do to dwell on the past, though. Recently I watched a broadcast of the 1977 play ‘Abigail’s Party’ which, unusually, I had never seen before. It felt oddly familiar to see the fashions, the hairstyles and above all the drearily ‘modern’ interiors which we all thought so new and ground-breaking. My memory recognised the smoke-laden atmosphere, which had to be endured both at work and in pubs, buses and trains and in homes. Would I go back? Well, I’d love to visit London again, where I worked for ten years. I would happily take the tube (in a non-smoking carriage) out to Buckinghamshire where I was born and brought up, and glimpse my parents’ house. </p><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj62BzeMzqj3yRGCmXv8xU6DkauXtwecuJ1kOMnlDLPgMSJMKyc-xWpt2Qqx2fupBMH5XekB8XpOwf8LNheASoSA7ma8ny5-XAx_Z_ZaLUa0tq5K_a9a9IUgeSv7QddxAEFWOwPyL7lD9A9/s1794/The_Nines_002+%25282%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1794" data-original-width="1281" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj62BzeMzqj3yRGCmXv8xU6DkauXtwecuJ1kOMnlDLPgMSJMKyc-xWpt2Qqx2fupBMH5XekB8XpOwf8LNheASoSA7ma8ny5-XAx_Z_ZaLUa0tq5K_a9a9IUgeSv7QddxAEFWOwPyL7lD9A9/w285-h400/The_Nines_002+%25282%2529.jpg" width="285" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">My parents' lovely house in Bucks<br /></span><br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br />Most of all I would love to sit down with long-dead members of my family and just talk to them. But this is daydreaming, and so it should remain.<p></p><p>To return to our conversation, H’s struggle to find a definition of ‘Tier Two’ was wiped out overnight, and all of us are once again in lockdown for the next few weeks. It’s getting beyond tedious, and it feels to me as though we have marked time for almost the whole of 2020. We struggle to ‘move on’, getting nowhere.</p><p>So how do we lift the gloom, other than rummaging through old photos – which is what I confess to have been doing when the November rain prevents me from tidying up the garden. It’s a huge question and I’m not entirely sure I can answer it in a few words. Perhaps we are all muddling along in the same distracted fashion, sick of the media broadcasting what they want us to hear and longing for someone grown-up enough to give us some hope. Whatever happened to those sensible, parent-like figures who responded to trouble with wise words and sound advice? Surely they haven’t, as a species, died out? Or have we stopped listening to their quiet, patient voices?</p><p style="text-align: center;">* * *</p><div>Last time I wrote we had just finished dismantling the garden shed, and were preparing for a new one. Well, we are still waiting for it! The 'nationwide shortage of sheds' to which I referred continues to cause despair and heartache for the smaller businesses who sell them. We will wait until the Spring, as it would be stupid not to. But for now, our garage and greenhouse - and various other corners of our home, house the contents of the old shed, and we work around them.</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSXUyNBhR-l6XrThRAMRLYBBhz9dmzpuaOg70aZVXO_G1QJTmJQu7XW30Z1XzrjD6zJWs_5j-BGAnUkah6GHG3tl3WqPOW_jRHfvxGRFU2nA78uifV34y8pSsizsZcumL8PTxSKtCy8Zet/s2048/DSCN3590-001.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1307" data-original-width="2048" height="408" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSXUyNBhR-l6XrThRAMRLYBBhz9dmzpuaOg70aZVXO_G1QJTmJQu7XW30Z1XzrjD6zJWs_5j-BGAnUkah6GHG3tl3WqPOW_jRHfvxGRFU2nA78uifV34y8pSsizsZcumL8PTxSKtCy8Zet/w640-h408/DSCN3590-001.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">There is still a sea of colours in our November garden. Above you will note how the Sedums have darkened, lending a final maroon glow before they fade to brown and die. These plants are so worthwhile growing; as well as lending solid colour to their surroundings they attract so many bees and other insects, although I saw a marked reduction this year which is sad. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqBaFTDg1jFMgIpZnv_Zazuu-_vmjD9sn8eR584ONImQdUFlYdE7LD9a2cQUmAdomO9pFB0db7X4au2-RgRdb4yNHumT1UDpOP4y7THcYC7uRKv05LRK9yisFvpKoJAfXIxZZrA9aHEoRz/s2048/DSCN3620.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqBaFTDg1jFMgIpZnv_Zazuu-_vmjD9sn8eR584ONImQdUFlYdE7LD9a2cQUmAdomO9pFB0db7X4au2-RgRdb4yNHumT1UDpOP4y7THcYC7uRKv05LRK9yisFvpKoJAfXIxZZrA9aHEoRz/w300-h400/DSCN3620.JPG" width="300" /></a></div>In the front garden the Hydrangea with its odd double-season continues to show off its new blooms, while the older ones have darkened like the Sedums. The splashes of blue are most uplifting on a rainy day.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Finally, speaking of the 1970s and simply to amuse you (and Heaven knows, we need more laughter at the moment), I'm posting a photo of a production by the Playgoers Amateur Dramatic Association of 'Hay Fever' dated 1978, in which yours truly played Sorel Bliss (the one in pale green pyjamas!). Happy days!!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuJOxN38Xp5AMGD3YcrtN96DfxpvMu_s_li1-6gWSf4Z3qnDyYtFS62xRt3q0hDX8PyBREae5FcHrbMUtuQ4SkbBnfAp1OkLTy1bllLAZhGDau0jMUjvWf3O9Fkavg8kkHTljy_0ar87IF/s2048/1-20190303150717_06+%25282%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1217" data-original-width="2048" height="381" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuJOxN38Xp5AMGD3YcrtN96DfxpvMu_s_li1-6gWSf4Z3qnDyYtFS62xRt3q0hDX8PyBREae5FcHrbMUtuQ4SkbBnfAp1OkLTy1bllLAZhGDau0jMUjvWf3O9Fkavg8kkHTljy_0ar87IF/w640-h381/1-20190303150717_06+%25282%2529.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">Amersham Playgoers' 'Hay Fever' 1978</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><br /><div><br /></div>P R Fordhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09634848272422307580noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8792902209446838780.post-9315033360890962332020-09-23T10:16:00.018+01:002020-09-23T10:23:50.821+01:00DISMANTLING<p>We have spent the last couple of weeks taking down our old shed. What remained was not
pretty, and our attempts to improve the site and prepare it for the replacement
were thwarted by the sheer effort involved in heaving around heavy paving
stones and hardcore – it’s back-breaking work. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgD6s0mUpfEQIwzArM6E8CQkog3oQct57Wz-fwjG4dKtdADprnE6owKlN4my7oncO0tfwd6GhjFrAXVoPDLhgnK72TNy_ndOTM0Tq-s75XSSHNZfbbv1tQN0A3rde7J95ZvVs0n-ntYUxgw/s2048/P1140455-001.JPG" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1837" data-original-width="2048" height="359" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgD6s0mUpfEQIwzArM6E8CQkog3oQct57Wz-fwjG4dKtdADprnE6owKlN4my7oncO0tfwd6GhjFrAXVoPDLhgnK72TNy_ndOTM0Tq-s75XSSHNZfbbv1tQN0A3rde7J95ZvVs0n-ntYUxgw/w400-h359/P1140455-001.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><br />Two days were completely wasted
when we employed the wrong person to help, and our ‘shed fund’ is now reduced
by a frightening amount of money spent on him making it – actually – worse! The
company selling us the shed have come to our rescue, working out a competent
(and rather expensive) plan, which will – I hope – improve the entire corner of
the garden. Watch this space!<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">*</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhS6rn_fyk0adQsUAWMyroWyNfNK9UhLT5HLGJX_-Kzecq6_NDL6afkYWvy021iAakoL-Nch-r64EKPwjwC8mA2na1xeTFNPJWuf73dtW68KbLPf0fSrAH3iHa1ybsg6qNn3W4-N1e9Tblc/s4320/P1140423.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3240" data-original-width="4320" height="303" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhS6rn_fyk0adQsUAWMyroWyNfNK9UhLT5HLGJX_-Kzecq6_NDL6afkYWvy021iAakoL-Nch-r64EKPwjwC8mA2na1xeTFNPJWuf73dtW68KbLPf0fSrAH3iHa1ybsg6qNn3W4-N1e9Tblc/w404-h303/P1140423.JPG" width="404" /></a></div><br /><p>The dismantling of parts of our lives has not been confined
to the garden. The mandatory six years have now passed since I ceased my
accountancy practice, and I am allowed to dispose of all the related paperwork.
When we pulled all the various boxes of files from the dusty corners of storage,
the task looked very daunting indeed. Earlier in the year I made a start and
broke the shredder. I always manage to break these machines, and this one was
not cheap when I bought it.</p><p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiB6UAXPpgE2gtsco521OmGQZxXLbxvaK6TxFftXFmiRGA-UhR237gac4d_FRIE2_C98EEVpf_2ozvBADnwqRvEzygd-kGgwKX55xOVsS8z3fyy6Qp6J_wDO8SiczMWN-W-qI_RRjTLRqfC/s2048/DSCN3236+%25282%2529.JPG" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1559" data-original-width="2048" height="153" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiB6UAXPpgE2gtsco521OmGQZxXLbxvaK6TxFftXFmiRGA-UhR237gac4d_FRIE2_C98EEVpf_2ozvBADnwqRvEzygd-kGgwKX55xOVsS8z3fyy6Qp6J_wDO8SiczMWN-W-qI_RRjTLRqfC/w200-h153/DSCN3236+%25282%2529.JPG" width="200" /></a></div>A quick look on the internet and I found a confidential
shredding service… and so began the dismantling of all those years of hard
work. Hundreds of schedules, computations, neatly clipped tax returns and
beautifully bound accounts are now sitting in large eco-friendly ‘paper bags’
in our garage, awaiting collection. It was quite an emotional experience,
remembering each and every client (some of whom have since died or become very
ill), and recalling their lives – often in intimate detail. <p></p><p style="text-align: center;">*</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">We reached the Autumn Equinox yesterday, and it is beginning
to show in the garden. The colours are starting to fade into that gentle
richness which defines the new season.</p><p class="MsoNormal"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiegbpU-zthg8-eD-uzWviZ5XHYb3uqPyCgbdXd5e9_7jUIbKu0_v2ye1s2Haah8pVmMgkt9Ip4mYBigdxS23LzfjlHjM6XHqeUWQjwnqGufVrRsr_zW78J1yPo6whqVf5tnzZ11MihyphenhyphenXO5/s2048/DSCN3281.JPG" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiegbpU-zthg8-eD-uzWviZ5XHYb3uqPyCgbdXd5e9_7jUIbKu0_v2ye1s2Haah8pVmMgkt9Ip4mYBigdxS23LzfjlHjM6XHqeUWQjwnqGufVrRsr_zW78J1yPo6whqVf5tnzZ11MihyphenhyphenXO5/s320/DSCN3281.JPG" /></a></div>Much to my amazement though, the blue
Hydrangea decided to produce some new flowers, so there is a beautiful melange
of brownish mauves with bright new green-blue. Another newcomer is one of the
new Hollyhocks which I sowed last year has bloomed with a dark magenta flower,
quite a surprise.<o:p></o:p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Many of the annuals will need to be cut down fairly soon,
but I’m leaving them for as long as possible to do so. The thought of yet more dismantling
is a gloomy one, especially at a such gloomy and depressing time in all our
lives. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9-rw85gS4gQxGPmgmB8nMiSCJtaWvd_8Wh9C57F6AmX1hYhyphenhypheniJHjYDpWc7Vo-XkYJ7LPB7DkdxlydLi-6JeWYFcF7mm9NmtGVCSsA6rZfVvZgEQTcsgEea4D-Z2hcVE_4KnlETqLw-FDm/s2048/DSCN3321.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9-rw85gS4gQxGPmgmB8nMiSCJtaWvd_8Wh9C57F6AmX1hYhyphenhypheniJHjYDpWc7Vo-XkYJ7LPB7DkdxlydLi-6JeWYFcF7mm9NmtGVCSsA6rZfVvZgEQTcsgEea4D-Z2hcVE_4KnlETqLw-FDm/s320/DSCN3321.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p class="MsoNormal">We need a little bit of hope to hold on to, and mine might be the choosing of
some bulbs to plant during the Autumn months ready for Spring flowering. As my
late father used to quote (from ‘Macbeth’):</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>
<div style="text-align: center;"><i>‘Come what may,<br /></i><i>Time and the hour runs through the roughest day.’</i></div><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">We all experience such days, and this little phrase is true,
even when those days feel endless.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal">The highlight of September has been a rare visit from two members of our small family on one of the sunniest days. We are a very close family, so such meetings are precious. I close with a bright, cheerful photo taken by our son on that day - somehow he has made the garden look stunning, and I hope you will enjoy it too. Keep safe, and above all, stay healthy!</p><p class="MsoNormal"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEMApwjgk1inh8APALrimJlWW1rZIiVniGV-1Wm21Xg21yZ3mILSoQwzeGmQFZ2mMZUauSxtV9lA8NHZIC1lpZ9hs4GPSFDpL_zssk2G5AK0vRSx2_17jqHvlMW0pSREyd-UZufNFm-sR7/s2048/5D3_0194-1.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1365" data-original-width="2048" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEMApwjgk1inh8APALrimJlWW1rZIiVniGV-1Wm21Xg21yZ3mILSoQwzeGmQFZ2mMZUauSxtV9lA8NHZIC1lpZ9hs4GPSFDpL_zssk2G5AK0vRSx2_17jqHvlMW0pSREyd-UZufNFm-sR7/w640-h426/5D3_0194-1.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /> <p></p>P R Fordhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09634848272422307580noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8792902209446838780.post-42782905839198775622020-08-18T16:44:00.002+01:002020-08-18T16:57:36.577+01:00AUGUST: INCONSISTENCY<p> The mole, who periodically decides to throw beautifully
sifted earth up on to my lawn, has returned this week. We share this mole with the
friend in the neighbouring garden above ours, and for all we know we may be
sharing hundreds of little velvety creatures living beneath our properties. </p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsR7oSM5SDWcQELyKmwXTL9ApHm8gWitGdFK2ajdSbaLpMyldimyTeiC6C6efAsIli_R3IUhimCokSNfj78Ua2kCUCeqLqCqT6NAXACKZHuLM_Lc8DsYDhfQRE5az0lVTP1T0xUd0r7RF6/s3264/DSCN2816.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2448" data-original-width="3264" height="384" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsR7oSM5SDWcQELyKmwXTL9ApHm8gWitGdFK2ajdSbaLpMyldimyTeiC6C6efAsIli_R3IUhimCokSNfj78Ua2kCUCeqLqCqT6NAXACKZHuLM_Lc8DsYDhfQRE5az0lVTP1T0xUd0r7RF6/w512-h384/DSCN2816.JPG" width="512" /></a></div><p>We never
hear them, unlike the raucous rooks and magpies who feel the need to shout at
each other quite often during daylight hours, and the irritating squirrel
currently tearing unripe hazelnuts off the branches overhanging the garden,
barking and screeching as he does so. </p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh06OriNuVmwryFKTqVHbbkgHRryCGYkeRxAKExLqigx_WEy3QHzv7WXm6_zNapngpdUx_oTyCsMmeeQMvckkJpK-Nq3hA9dfsrD4Wz5AZBgiOuQHjNrIbuUHz5LV0VBoQnQrg3jr-vM9DX/s2048/DSCN2854.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh06OriNuVmwryFKTqVHbbkgHRryCGYkeRxAKExLqigx_WEy3QHzv7WXm6_zNapngpdUx_oTyCsMmeeQMvckkJpK-Nq3hA9dfsrD4Wz5AZBgiOuQHjNrIbuUHz5LV0VBoQnQrg3jr-vM9DX/s640/DSCN2854.JPG" /></a></div><p></p><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">August is often a trying month, during which half the
country takes it into their heads to set off on holiday while the other half
sits it out staunchly at home, happy to complain about the first half. This year
has proved more difficult, if only because the weather has been inconsistently
wet and at times unbearably hot. Then there is the virus… but we won’t go into
that.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyHofk-Oj1LvEX5egr6sNlJHhZgWanFKq1NYxZ6GRtxFaOFWROrHIgmvxoUv2TSzWHRziLNXK5ufgCNBl4NikNosivIMV7i80dMN6_DdXQy4ePA5lhgonWj3JQPKVA4VUrUJrajrd3hwz0/s3264/DSCN2793.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2448" data-original-width="3264" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyHofk-Oj1LvEX5egr6sNlJHhZgWanFKq1NYxZ6GRtxFaOFWROrHIgmvxoUv2TSzWHRziLNXK5ufgCNBl4NikNosivIMV7i80dMN6_DdXQy4ePA5lhgonWj3JQPKVA4VUrUJrajrd3hwz0/w640-h480/DSCN2793.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><p class="MsoNormal">I have been reading about the German occupation of Europe
during the Second World War, from the point of view of those sent from Britain as
spies. <i>‘Prince of Spies’ by Alex Gerlis</i> took me through the first week
of August and was so thrilling that I promptly read its sequel <i>‘Sea of Spies’</i>.
In the first, the very likeable hero is sent to Copenhagen, where his mission
is fraught with danger. In the second, he is attempting to find out whether the Germans are
developing the notorious V1 and V2 rockets, and a terrifying journey into and
across Germany follows. Both the first book and its sequel are well crafted and beautifully
written. They make tense, gripping reads as well as adding well researched
facts to one’s knowledge of both places and history at that time.</p><o:p></o:p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEia6TXC_kD-lqjsUXKwuudv3JIj0FrEo-PjT4JVujWu8szO1E1yfkaA_bvYN4NeaTTPNJmekzIzq3th0mjwNnw8zq16dJ20Z6eJ67V7RdKmWMNYIRJrVGzD7Ik2FeU-TmKffC17CcT7hoED/s1986/DSCN2815+%25282%2529.JPG" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1986" data-original-width="1672" height="410" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEia6TXC_kD-lqjsUXKwuudv3JIj0FrEo-PjT4JVujWu8szO1E1yfkaA_bvYN4NeaTTPNJmekzIzq3th0mjwNnw8zq16dJ20Z6eJ67V7RdKmWMNYIRJrVGzD7Ik2FeU-TmKffC17CcT7hoED/w345-h410/DSCN2815+%25282%2529.JPG" width="345" /></a></div>In contrast <i>‘Night Flight to Paris’ by David Gilman</i>
is based, as you will guess, in occupied Paris. It is more harrowing to read, grim
and depressing, and I was glad to finish it – even though the twist at the end
was remarkably well contrived. Sometimes it is wiser, in my opinion, to consider
whether reading a certain type or genre of book when one is feeling low or
depressed can make one feel better or worse. I definitely felt worse after
reading the Gilman book, and have had to make a careful selection for my next
read – the safe hands of author <i>Ellie Griffiths</i> – to try and return some
equilibrium to my life!<div><br /><o:p></o:p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNN2k24pnaN2lYAuYIUnABKe_-PIVyY2VYa2fVkuOsbLcg95bE5TATgrCEOO4O5YmEDplhN1n5lAdD2oN2eEM33zcXqeSQQ2Ja2R_XpaY0Xi_LtbLyecJBR6nuDSEtmPmXuG8rn-drdYFj/s2048/DSCN2830-001.JPG" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1285" height="410" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNN2k24pnaN2lYAuYIUnABKe_-PIVyY2VYa2fVkuOsbLcg95bE5TATgrCEOO4O5YmEDplhN1n5lAdD2oN2eEM33zcXqeSQQ2Ja2R_XpaY0Xi_LtbLyecJBR6nuDSEtmPmXuG8rn-drdYFj/w258-h410/DSCN2830-001.JPG" width="258" /></a></div><p class="MsoNormal">I have peppered this blog post with garden views. The
poppies and early roses are long gone, but all my hastily planted Cosmos are
now blooming wildly and many roses are in their second phase. The sunflowers
have hated the extremes of weather, but my American Canna which stubbornly refused
to flower last year has perked up in the heat and produced one gorgeous red bloom.</p><o:p></o:p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">Finally: this particular Blog is dedicated to my father,
Noel Unsworth, who fought with the King’s African Rifles in Burma during WWII,
and for all those brave souls who fought with him, 75 years ago this week. This
was one of his favourite poems:</p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEik2GQV0uTcoUJKRQr8xiqLqmZMm-NWzqV_2twm3kG0EIr6IasPjbuF4ZuSq4rk3wij0Xk3lIViqEUI6tn5Rph7gVHaiRLh67v20a3rAs9W0H30VvEXXYKafpRWoAE2LN8jzCBSd_8igr-3/s449/IMG_0009-001.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="449" data-original-width="366" height="230" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEik2GQV0uTcoUJKRQr8xiqLqmZMm-NWzqV_2twm3kG0EIr6IasPjbuF4ZuSq4rk3wij0Xk3lIViqEUI6tn5Rph7gVHaiRLh67v20a3rAs9W0H30VvEXXYKafpRWoAE2LN8jzCBSd_8igr-3/w187-h230/IMG_0009-001.jpg" width="187" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">“I know a bank where the wild thyme blows,</div><div style="text-align: center;">Where oxlips and the nodding violet grows,</div><div style="text-align: center;">Quite over-canopied with luscious woodbine,</div><div style="text-align: center;">With sweet musk-roses and with eglantine.”</div><o:p></o:p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">― William Shakespeare, A Midsummer Night's Dream<o:p></o:p></p></div>P R Fordhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09634848272422307580noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8792902209446838780.post-10325034054799197892020-07-24T19:57:00.000+01:002020-07-24T19:57:58.501+01:00LISTLESSI promised to show you the other side of my garden, but a feeling of listlessness has delayed our walk and July has only a week left. We’ll do it today. The weather has been very changeable, so some of my photos – taken this afternoon – are less colourful than I would have hoped. Let’s stroll down the lawn and through the arch…<br />
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The lawn stretches out in front of us to left and right, ending at the long fence which marks the boundary between us and our neighbour. I am not a fan of this fence: old, somewhat rickety and apt to blow backwards and forwards in the wind, it needs replacing. We can’t afford to do so all at once, but we managed two panels last year, and hope to put in a couple more in the Autumn. I particularly detest the colour, but I guess it could be worse!<br />
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To the right, the Devon bank stretches down to the corner where a bent old conifer used to grow at an alarming angle. We took this out a couple of years ago, deeming it a potential hazard in high winds. <br />
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The site is shady and damp, so we planted Rhododendrons and Laurel, with Hostas and a little box border. Much to our surprise they have thrived, although a sharp frost caught the Rhododendrons early this year and they did not flower. They also hated the drought in May, but I watered them copiously and fed them, and they are now showing signs of a late flowering! Watch this space…<br />
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Moving left and back up a steep part of the garden, the lawn curves round the edge of the terrace bordered by a rockery. <br />
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We planted two apples and one pear tree in 2018 and hope for fruit next year. We had some blossom in the Spring, but the birds appear to have put paid to any resulting fruit!<br />
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From this point you can see my ‘Buddleia Corner’ where – more by accident than design – I have put in cuttings from other Buddleia plants which had grown profusely, along with one which I found against the house wall when we moved here, and which I have encouraged.<br />
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Looking back up the garden from the fruit trees is one of my favourite views. <br />
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In the photo, every plant you see except for the Camelia on the left and the fern in the rockery (which has put itself there), has been planted by us. I even replanted the rockery with Persicaria (the pink spiky flowers, brought with me in a pot and first acquired from a nursery in Penrith), Hebes and the low spreading conifer whose name eludes me. When we came there were no other flower beds, no arch and no trees – the lawn was bare and a blank canvas!<br />
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Moving back towards the arch we are finishing our walk. You are looking back up the lawn at the greenhouse and the shed - which is fast disintegrating! We have taken the plunge and ordered a new shed which - because of the pandemic fall-out and thus a national shortage of sheds, will not arrive until September or October. There goes the money paid for the holiday we were unable to take in April, and fingers crossed we will get our refund as promised next month!<br />
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I can't bring the walk to an end without showing you some of the lovely flowers which have graced the garden this month. Thank you for your company, I have thoroughly enjoyed taking you round my garden and I feel less listless for so doing!</div>
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<i>This particular blog is dedicated to our friend and neighbour Yvette, who died earlier this week aged ninety, and for whom gardens made life worth living...</i></div>
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P R Fordhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09634848272422307580noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8792902209446838780.post-57695657031544483142020-06-30T12:33:00.002+01:002020-06-30T12:33:55.714+01:00June: Darkness and LightInfinite sadness is… the death of a good friend.<br />
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When I began writing ‘Losing Time’ in earnest, Derek was the first person outside the family to listen to an extract which I read aloud to him. He was writing some poetry – unstructured, but brilliantly funny. I chose a part from early on in my book, where Helen steps through an open door in a hotel in Ireland to find herself transported into the past, and facing her father as a young man. This has always been one of my favourite moments, and my many and varied edits have changed it little – so you can still read it almost as it was when I stumbled over the words, tense with nerves, as Derek listened. The minutes which ticked past as I read were serious and important to me. Derek’s reaction would be critical to how I progressed with the book. To my amazement, he listened in silence as the scene rolled off the paper, and after I finished, he seemed surprised that I’d stopped. More astonishing was his pronouncement that it had been like ‘listening to a story on Radio 4’ and that it was good.<br />
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‘Do I go on with it?’<br />
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‘Oh yeah, yeah, yeah,’ he affirmed with a sentence he so often used when he approved of something. And so, continue I did!<br />
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The photo shows Derek in 1983, rendering a cob wall on my cottage. Friendship is the mutual recognition of an easiness between people who can comfortably discuss and debate all manner of things. For thirty years we lived in the same village as Derek and his wife and family. On occasion he would drop in on us simply to air his views on current news events, or on something he had read or listened to which he felt needed discussion. Frequently an item of news would infuriate him, and he would rage in frustration for about half an hour, finally turning the whole thing into a joke, when we would all fall about laughing. Good humour was never far away from this kind man.<br />
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And now Derek has gone. The cigarettes (etc.) took their toll on his lungs in an aggressive and horrible manner as is so often the case, but which is always so totally undeserved.<br />
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June ends and 2020 is half gone. The garden is coping magnificently with these odd extremes of weather, although the high winds push some of the plants into a bedraggled tangle, they soon recover. <b>Our walk</b> continues now with a few views of plants which have excelled themselves in June, and most importantly the roses I was given for my birthday. <br />
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'Princess Alexandra of Kent' arrived about to flower, and has burst into some extravagant heads of a stunning pink, each as perfect as the photo. <br />
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Next to it I planted 'Gabriel Oak' whose blooms are a richer, darker colour and whose scent resembles the best of rose perfumes.<br />
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The poppies have gone over now, but other tall plants are replacing them. Here are Cornflowers and 'drumstick' Alliums.<br />
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Here, in today's drizzle, are a couple of views of the now-enlarged round flowerbed in all its glory, with the 'Annabelle' Hydrangea rapidly changing colour and the roses, 'Gabriel Oak' nearest to us, as well as the Dahlias.</div>
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Finally, a book recommendation. 'A Rising Man' by Abir Mukherjee will plunge you into the extraordinary world that is Calcutta, almost one hundred years ago. Highly recommended it's my favourite of the year so far!</div>
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I promise to show you the other side of the garden next month. In the meantime, I hope you are coping and keeping well, and that everything will improve as we move into the second half of this strange year.</div>
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Pam and Lucy: this is for you at this difficult time. x </div>
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Note: this link should take you to a preview of 'Losing Time', if my post has sparked your interest.</div>
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<a href="https://read.amazon.co.uk/kp/embed?asin=B016X4HXCE&preview=newtab&linkCode=kpe&ref_=cm_sw_r_kb_dp_Q-.zDb095FGDH" target="_blank">'Losing Time' on Amazon</a></div>
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P R Fordhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09634848272422307580noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8792902209446838780.post-31456099145448598422020-06-11T17:35:00.000+01:002020-06-11T17:35:27.355+01:00BETWEEN SHOWERS<span style="background-color: white; color: #252525; font-family: Muli, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;">After several weeks of hot, dry weather we are being deluged with rain here today. I ran out between showers and caught this burst of sunlight – just before I had to run back in again! (Wish I’d managed to move the green recycling bag first...)</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #252525; font-family: Muli, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;">Luckily I managed to snap enough photos for this post, which was meant to continue our walk around the garden - now postponed. Here instead are some glimpses of how June moves the plants into new stages of growth and flowering.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSIz9BKfgtA7-gOsrxeJK-SJgrG2pKZe4oUrCMhyYMunxpDa6FVvIjmfmB6eJn4lYYLz6sYNgl5tN3yOMcsJaeqKSKp1-edd9ZDHSW_YNjb4O85tYHowL4oSA3jDWNVyF8SM3plplRohT7/s1600/DSCN1844.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSIz9BKfgtA7-gOsrxeJK-SJgrG2pKZe4oUrCMhyYMunxpDa6FVvIjmfmB6eJn4lYYLz6sYNgl5tN3yOMcsJaeqKSKp1-edd9ZDHSW_YNjb4O85tYHowL4oSA3jDWNVyF8SM3plplRohT7/s400/DSCN1844.JPG" width="400" /></a><span style="background-color: white; color: #252525; font-family: Muli, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;">First: the excitement of new Hydrangeas producing flowers. These are cuttings I took a couple of years ago. This one had been in our family for generations and will be pink when it achieves its full colour.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBt8SBlZ-DXaQQBUKwEqvQdRXa4FusMnC9MlB-Dl0U4h8wJb43tV5erW-ZspLXtuu7VwFYMSf5ekL18QY6gPznwh6ws7S8XDaPGLE732Hpv5Q30oA6Rb8fiCGiAXDdHjuhUTGNKazeb8rZ/s1600/DSCN1860.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBt8SBlZ-DXaQQBUKwEqvQdRXa4FusMnC9MlB-Dl0U4h8wJb43tV5erW-ZspLXtuu7VwFYMSf5ekL18QY6gPznwh6ws7S8XDaPGLE732Hpv5Q30oA6Rb8fiCGiAXDdHjuhUTGNKazeb8rZ/s400/DSCN1860.JPG" width="400" /></a><span style="background-color: white; color: #252525; font-family: Muli, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;">In contrast, this is a cutting from a blue Hydrangea purchased a few years ago, growing beautifully in a big terracotta pot of my late mother's. </span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #252525; font-family: Muli, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;">The heaviness of the showers is ruining my poppies, which I thought looked so splendid this year. Here is one managing to survive the wet.</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #252525; font-family: Muli, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;">And of course I couldn't post photos of the garden without a couple of roses, here still gorgeous despite the rain:</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEia0MmH_2f6qZ7NPewYH9POByWRvVWUDfd1stLxF2UMPs_nhhEUN7MqpUqcKg05rReYCwyPkYT_V1-CRt-s4e58EyHZO5HUYWnTSYx-sNP6UO-ylk6nhDjtmUOXlbDb1n_XPteH7cG6VUhP/s1600/P1140095.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1322" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEia0MmH_2f6qZ7NPewYH9POByWRvVWUDfd1stLxF2UMPs_nhhEUN7MqpUqcKg05rReYCwyPkYT_V1-CRt-s4e58EyHZO5HUYWnTSYx-sNP6UO-ylk6nhDjtmUOXlbDb1n_XPteH7cG6VUhP/s400/P1140095.JPG" width="330" /></a><span style="background-color: white; color: #252525; font-family: Muli, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;"><br /></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #252525; font-family: Muli, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;">At this difficult time I feel incredibly fortunate to be able to work and be in the garden. Its healing qualities for stress and depression are second to none. All of us have been experiencing moments of unhappiness and sadness in the past few months. The threat of serious illness hangs heavily, like an elephant in the room which we are all sick of. I fear this interval in our lives may continue indefinitely. There is a lethargy in the air, a kind of acquired tolerance of the situation, but also a longing for a glimpse of something more substantial, as though our lives have taken on a dreamlike quality whose mists we desperately wish to disperse. I cannot advise you how to react, but can only suggest that life tends to hold surprises - and if ever we all needed a positive, bold solution to this crisis, this would be a good time. </span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #252525; font-family: Muli, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;">My final photo brings us back to one of the most fundamental aspects of my garden: plants for the bees. Just don't ask me what this plant is, because I don't remember except that it is a rather obscure herb - and the bees love it! Look after yourselves, as ever...</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #252525; font-family: Muli, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;"><br /></span>P R Fordhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09634848272422307580noreply@blogger.com0