Wednesday 30 November 2016

Kale and farewell.....

Here we are, in the first week in Advent.  Stir up Sunday has come and gone and I haven`t made a Christmas cake or pudding as it seems so self indulgent.  Last year I ate most of the cake myself right up to the end of January and it does no good for my expanding waistline, worse now that I no longer do dog walkies twice a day.

I am still spending much time at the Eye Hospital, sitting waiting glumly in silent rows, all bleary eyed from the drops they put in..I joined the Macular degeneration society so I am now officially a DEGENERATE.  One of the things they recommend is to eat kale. I bought a big bag of it in Waitrose, but it was an effort to get the rubbery stuff down even after it was well cooked.

Son in law  D took me to the Dome Theatre in Brighton last night to a stand up show, a German comic  called Henning Wehn who is often on the radio and television and whom we both like. It is so brilliant, the way one chap can hold a huge audience for a couple of hours with clever satire on
Germany Brexit, British plumbing, Trump and immigrants in such a hilarious yet gentle way.
I realised I was at  least twice the age of everyone audience if not more.

I was very impressed by the fact that the GP phoned and invited me round to check that I was OK  `Do you need help with anything?`she enquired.    It is so different from the tales you hear of people not being able to  get  an appointment with the doctor for weeks, and the NHS going down the drain. I tried hard to think of any ailments I might be worried about,but luckily could not think of anything except a large unsightly wart on my hand which she is going to see to.

I have decided that all present buying, wrapping, card writing, the lot, I am going to leave till the last minute. I just can`t stand the thought of things like Black Friday, and frantic online ordering and buying. I shall just have a mad panic in the week before Christmas. No mince pies, tangerines, or
 chocolate Santas will pass my lips till then.

Thursday 10 November 2016

The LastTrump

What a horrible blow to wake up this morning to the news that the loathsome Trump is to be the new president of USA , its like Brexit all over again. What is going on?      Walking cheerfully and looking for that of God in the likes on D.Trump is hard,  even for a Quaker but we will just have to try.

On a more positive note, I had a lovely half term trip to Rye and Hastings with daughter J as a belated birthday treat.   Tiger came too and really got into the hotel experience with a request for Scrabble to be brought up to our room and cheese and pickle sandwiches from room service, and very nice too. There was also a lovely swimming pool and wonderful buffet breakfast. And I do love hotel breakfasts.  We then went to the Jerwood Gallery in Hastings which is ideal for me as it is quite small, with just enough nice pictures to look at and lovely views of the sea and the fishing boats in the Old Town    I hate places that are huge, which wear me out.      Also plays, films, operas, concerts, that are too long which I find is often the case.
  
I am writing this blog as I sit as a model for the `Grey Ladies` life class which is an art group in Ditchling.    I hasten to say that I am fully clothed   I do not know why the group are so named as they are neither grey haired nor always female.  I have done this many times and I enjoy it as it is peaceful sitting for a couple of hours in the morning though sometimes we chat so it is a good way of hearing the village news.    I never look at their pictures as when I did once I was horrified by the many versions of  a wrinkled old crone, though they are very good artists.

We have two good films this month: last week it was Theeb, a dramatic film set in the desert among Bedouins in 1916 and though I had my eyes tightly shut and fingers in my ears for several frightening bits, it was a brilliant film. Tonight we have The Dressmaker which looks promising. And next week the Am Drams are doing Noel Coward`s Blithe Spirit.   Never a dull moment in Ditchling.   
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