Thursday 20 November 2014

moe mud......

Venezuelan daughter in law is here to stay from Washington DC. We have been trawling the local charity shops as they don`t have anything quite like them back in the USA and we have a particularly good crop here. There s one where everything costs a pound or less, that is my favourite.   I am planning to do some of my Christmas shopping there.
Daughter in law is a trained healer and she has been giving me treatments, much in need at the moment as I fell over in a quagmire on an early morning dog walk a couple of days ago.   I did not injure myself but I had great difficulty getting up and just kept becoming more and more plastered all over in mud with B.Wiggins gazing at me in horror. I was so glad I managed to get home without any Ditchlingites seeing me as even my face was muddy and the next day I was all stiff and aching.   But the healing treatment has helped
I have a big gang of Darlings coming for lunch on Sunday so I am about to start cooking the inevitable quiches etc. The meal will have to be on laps as I have not got room to sit everyone round a table.
I am enjoying my four books from the last mobile library visit: the Ian MacEwan one The Children Act is a winner and I am loving The Paying Guests by Sarah Waters. 
Also  I saw a brilliant film at the Ditchling Village Hall: Nebraska, highly recommended.     
Son Toby is soon to come home from India where he has been teaching Tibetan refugees . He will be sad to leave as it has been a very happy time but he says he is looking forward to a some home comforts like central heating (it is very cold at night) and also showers and baths.

Wednesday 12 November 2014

Singin in the Rain

Back to the mud, mud, glorious mud for our morning walks which lately have been often in deluging rain.  But enjoyable all the same. I am constantly discovering new footpaths and more stiles for me to clamber over, anxiously watched by B.Wiggins. He waits until I am safely over before trotting on.
I went up to London on Friday. Grand daughter M kindly took me to a concert at the Festival Hall, a belated birthday present.   I went via Clapham Junction and Waterloo, all so sadly changed. No music. I always used to feel like a character in Brief Encounter at Waterloo with its atmospheric orchestral accompaniment.   The South Bank was a heaving mass of people and everything looked different. I stumbled along like a country bumpkin, and me, born and bred a Londoner!   .But London town on a Friday night is no place for an eighty four year old.     However it was OK once I met up with M and we had a lovely time and I enjoyed hearing and seeing the London Philharmonic Orchestra in all its glory and live.
The day before I had gone to see the film, Mr Turner in Brighton. It was brilliant and Timothy Spall gave a wonderful performance. It was a very long film and did not finish until half past eleven, so for two nights I was out and about till after midnight    But on both occasions it was worth it.
Our splendid mobile library has just come and brought me four new books, all Booker prize shortlist ones. I seized upon them like a starving man, as the library van broke down and we had been deprived for a month. I am now well into The Children Act by Ian Mc Ewan.  I have been struggling to read a biog of the present pope which is the choice for the new Book Group I have been asked to join. I hope that the next book chosen will be more my cup of tea.
The reason for the title of this blog is that this is one of the tunes we are singing in the Ditchling Village Choir at the moment and I can`t get it out of my head and I am humming it all day tunelessly under my breath. We ate doing a little concert at Christmas, and also the music group I play the cello in (very badly) is also doing a gig for the Old Folks Club in two weeks time and we are getting into such a stew about it you would think we were going to give a recital at the Wigmore Hall   .I will be glad when it`s over.