Monty Solves the IT problems

Assuming his usual pose after grappling with a rather complicated file search on Marjorie's PC.

Home Alone

That's a full week, well 6 days actually, that I've been at home,alone, in sole charge of house, cat, and TV zapper!

This is a regular feature of our year, when Marjorie visits her sister and her family in the Midlands. When the children were young, ( wasn't that just yesterday?) M,'s visit was ostensibly to give the hard pressed parents, both in full time employment, a bit of a break. These days with both children well able to fend for themselves, I think that Great Aunt Marjorie enjoys her time to herself, just as much as I enjoy the experience of just being by myself. I think it has something to do with the fact that we know that the separation will end and we'll pick up our joint lives again quite soon.

The week has just flown by. Three golf matches, a planned visit to the car dealers to get t'buggy MOT'd** ( passed with flying colours!), a re-start to this blog, and generally keeping myself to a normal routine. Although I can cook a simple meal ( meat,& veg,) I soon get tired of the same old, same old, and last evening decided to ring the changes and visit a local restaurant which specialises in 'Mediterranean' cuisine.

It was 'party night' last night, and a noisy 'hen party' was in full swing. Apart from the noise, the rest of the diners were well entertained by some of the antics of the assembled guests. The fashion these days seems to centre on all the female guests of the bride to be, dressing up in some outlandish 'Themed' fancy dress. Last night was 'Cowboy' (or cowgirl) theme, and the sight of several very well endowed young ladies in brief skirts, high heeled boots and 'weskits' which revealed more than they covered, was a fascinating glimpse of "how the other half live!".

I had just done justice to the starters,( calamares, whitebait, and 'pulpo' (octopus), served 'Tapas' style), when the room was literally taken over by a tall young man dressed in a fire fighters' outfit and wielding a large fire hose nozzle. This was of course the male stripper whose manly physique did not a lot for me but sent the already high decibel level from the 'ladies' up to stratospheric altitudes. There are times when it's handy being deaf, and last night was one of them, for with a touch on the "off" button on my hearing aids, all the noise went quiet and I was left to 'enjoy' the rest of the proceedings in utter peace!

Back home to be greeted by 'Monty' our new cat, provided by the Cats Protection people to replace our beloved 'Oscar' after his tragic death last March.

Monty is a dark tabby with green eyes which regard us at times with barely concealed disdain.
He's a silent animal, lithe and very active, with lightning reactions to all stimuli, both real and imagined.

"**MOT'd" for my readers outside the UK ( at last count there was only you Charlie!) ::) refers to the annual roadworthyness test compulsory for all UK cars over 3 years old.

A re-start to blogging

Over a year has gone by and my blog just sat there, waiting like a faithful hound for my return. Well, now I'm back, a bit older but it would seem no wiser or in any way better looking!

A year of highs and lows, all unreported, except to a select company of people on a web forum. The highs included a visit to my family in Spain where my granddaughter is growing rapidly into a beautiful young lady.

Elaine at 13 years

The lowest part of the year had to be that dreadful day, March 4th, when I reversed my car over our pet cat, Oscar, killing him instantly.





I don't want to dwell on that for obvious reasons, suffice to say that the phrase "If only" was getting to be used an awful lot across the weeks that followed.

Those two extremes apart, my 14 months of blog abstinence has passed very quickly, and life continues to treat me well.





Oscar.

 

A Holy Island Pilgrimage

An account of a weekend spent on the Holy Island of Lindisfarne....




Back last evening from a very enjoyable long weekend break at the Holy Island of Lindisfarne. Feeling very relaxed but a bit tired after a lot of unaccustomed exercise, and the stimulating and lively company of 10 adults and 19 children, from our parish church.

Holy Island has long been a favourite spot for a good long run out from the City, 50 or so miles to the North and set in lovely, tranquil scenery. Because of the tidal restrictions with the causeway closed twice in every 24 hours, this has always been a "Day Trip" excursion, so when last year the notice of a long weekend came up, we were first to put our names down.

We invited my cousin Helen, who was widowed last year. She has a large family and is well supported by them, but needed a bit of a break from the daily round and the stimulation of others to ease her from her grief. She literally blossomed over the weekend, and kept us two company when the younger element hared off on more adventurous pursuits.

Our accommodation was the Saint Vincent de Paul "Ozanam" Centre, basic and a bit Spartan, but perfectly adequate and in the main, quite comfortable. Being easily the oldest, we 3 were feted and allocated twin and single rooms respectively. The layout was "Cloister like" with the rooms and connecting corridors forming a square. Dot, ("Dorothea") our organiser, quietly moved the groups of children who had "bagsied" the rooms on either side of us, to help keep the noise levels in check. The Centre's lady in charge, Sr.Josepha, gave us a welcoming talk, outlining the "Do's and Don'ts" for a safe holiday. When she got to the bit where "Swinging from the roof beams was not allowed", everyone looked at us 3 'oldies' and general merriment broke out! That set the tone for the rest of the holiday and groups of children would warn us daily about the dangers of swinging from the beams!

After a packed lunch which we had been advised to bring, the first organised ramble to the dunes was soon under way. Before we left,however, the "Country side Code" ( Take only photos, leave only footprints) was stressed and each child given a number on leaving the Centre and had to answer to that number at the various "head counts" during and after each stage of the afternoon's activities. With the children's ages ranging from 8 to 18yrs, it was quite an eclectic group, but as most were related to each other the natural big brother / sister care took over, helping the group leaders Julie,Lawrie, Sean, Dot, John and Carolyn, to keep the party together and prevent stragglers from getting lost.

The only thing which could not be planned for was of course the weather. It could easily be summed up as "Cold and Grey" with the North East Coast in, its 5th day of a total 10/10ths cover of sea fret, propelled by a strong East wind. But we were well wrapped up ( with notable exceptions of two of the more hardy breed of teenagers) against the worst the the weather could throw at us and luckily the rain kept away. Walking boots were the favourite amongst the adults, but a lot of the girls were shod in Wellies which seem to be produced today in a riot of glorious colours.





Once on the beach, the wellies and other footwear were quickly abandoned and 'The Great Sand Castle Competition' began. As I have no family connections in the parish, I was a true "independent" and was asked to adjudicate on the creations which were going up at great pace around me. Without showing fear or favour, but allowing the fact to escape that I could be bought, if only they could all come up with a decent single malt, I applied myself diligently to the task . Sadly there were no offers of a 'bung', although Sean did venture the opinion that I may become incorporated into the beach scenery, if certain favours were not forthcoming!



The older boys literally threw themselves into their sand sculpture. It started out with epic proportions and at one time the casual observer could be forgiven on assuming that this was the Northern entrance to the Channel Tunnel! Owen took a bearing on what turned out to be the far off figure of Lawrie who was rock hunting in the shallows, and was soon several feet down. Opposite him, Thomas took a 180 degree back bearing and the race to link up a tunnel was under way

I left them to their labours and took the opportunity to wander up the other end of the beach, to check on mesdames Helen and Marjorie, who had declined to descend and preferred to sit at the top of the cliff and smile benevolently upon the scene of frenzied activity below.

Upon my return the boys had suffered a mini catastrophe! Tunnel cave in had occurred when Owen's original bearing on Lawrie turned out to be movable and he changed the angle of attack of his face work. OR, was it that Rachel had stumbled (accidentally of course!) on the top of the project, bringing down the roof. The Board of Enquiry which was convened quickly exonerated Rachel of all blame, but for her penance she had to suggest what the boys could turn their ruined tunnel into. The result is shown in one of my many pics which can be seen here.




........ Now we've heard of Medieval burial grounds but this one was bang up to date! For shame Rachel!


A Torchlight Ramble was next on the agenda and with everyone grasping a multi various collection of electric illuminants (some with a wind up rechargeable batteries), we set off towards the old Missionaries Causeway in the gathering gloom. This original track, which is picked out with a long row of poles stretching across the sands into the West, was used by the missionaries and early Island inhabitants long before the modern road, was built on a higher elevation. By the time we got down to wet sand and sea weed, it was "Black Dark" and the torches became vital. The tide was just on the turn, "Slack water" having been reached about an hour before our arrival. Groups of welly booted children splashed about in the inch or so of water, and it was less than 30 minutes before Lawrie blew on his whistle to shepherd all the excited children back on to comparatively dry land once more The necessary head count took place once we had gained the modern roadway, and with flashing torches, we set off back to the SVP Centre and hot mugs of cocoa / Horlicks all round. Julie was "Duty House Mother" and went round all the rooms checking that all was in order and that everyone was tucked up for the night.

The "boys" led by Sean and Lawrie sidled out of a side door and were later to be found by John and I, actually imbibing strong likker and a place called a "Public House". Expressing our shock and horror at this disgraceful behaviour took John and I all of 3 seconds, and then we were told that the next round was on us! Sr. Josepha had said that 'Lights Out' for adults was to be at 11.30 so we made haste to keep on the good side of the good Sister!

The children had other ideas and a "Midnight feast" was in full swing!
Bottles of 'Pop' and choccy bars were being scoffed and the popping of blown up crisp packets was at full throttle! It was nearly 12.30 when the noise eased off and we could get some rest!

Saturday morning dawned with the same grey overcast but most of the children and all of the adults seemed to have benefited from a good night's sleep and no one seemed to mind the cool weather. Breakfast was served, with the usual cereals etc, and then to cheers from the Ex- Forces amongst us Sr Josepha started ladling out baked beans to go with the sausage , egg and bacon! Toned down for the children and the good sister, the old marching chorus of...

"Oh the Navy Gets the Gravy
But the Army Gets the Beans!
Beans Beans Beans!
Nothing but Beans!"

... made for much merriment amongst the children.


By 10 .30 all were assembled in the dining hall and Dot gave the itinerary for a walk to the opposite end of the Island. Carrying the very well labelled packed lunches , Tuna & Mayo, Cheese Savoury, and even a "Nut allergy" and Vegetarian option, the essential "Numbering" took place on exit from the Dining hall . Marjorie had to be restrained by Helen on her exit and told that " No dear, this isn't an audition for Mamma Mia!" (Poor old thing, she doesn't get out much you know!)

The morning's route took us past our night time rambles and it was fascinating to see just how far we'd walked, before the now retreating tide had washed our footprints away. Turning sharp right of the main causeway brought us to a farm track headed due North, with our destination the ancient ruins of a Saxon Village "Greenshiel" (See photo of plaque), situated at about 3 miles to our front. Lawrie, John and I set a fairly gentle pace and Helen, Marjorie and Sean in his fluorescent tabard brought up the rear. Stopping for a breather, Sean pointed out a Lark on its busy flight. All except me could clearly hear its high pitched twitter, and this was the first time an old "townie" like me had ever witnessed such a rare sight.

I apologise for the tiny photos shown here, but "Blogspot" seems to be having a few techie troubles in the photo sizing department. I will wait patiently for the next 3 seconds for signs of improvement then seek an alternative host site.

Photos here.....

http://picasaweb.google.es/abueloeddie/AHolyIslandWeekend?authkey=Gv1sRgCNyzkcipnrCYtQE#

Rock Ape's Return.....

Right! I'm back! :-)

No excuses, no names, no pack drill, just the plain unvarnished truth, I've been too bone idle to post!.

However, just received a lovely story from a friend, and as it's Easter Monday and I'm at my computer I thought I'd share this story with the throngs of eager Blog readers (?) How are you both keeping, by the way?

Myriads of events have gone unreported, and if they are depending on my memory to get reported, then they have no chance!

One does stand out, probably because it happened yesterday

Father Philip started his sermon with his usual funny story...

A priest was visiting an old lady in her home, and asked if she believed in the "Hereafter"

"Oh ! Yes!" came the reply. I often go from dining room to kitchen, to bedroom to garden and back to the living room again, thinking "Now what am here after?!"

A look forward to the weekend when we join other parishioners in a pilgrimage to Lindisfarne ( Holy Island). Situated about 45 miles to the North of us here in "Sunny Blyth", this ancient site has been a place of pilgrimage since the very early days of Christianity in these Islands ... A click on the following URL will bring you a flavour this special place.

http://www.lindisfarne.org.uk/

Bright sunshine greets us this morning but a cool breeze keeps us from flocking to the coast to besport ourselves in our bathing costumes. That kind of thing is best left to the younger element, and anyway on inspecting my bathing costume I find a large hole in the elbow, so that 's out!

There has been much striding purposefully around the golf course, gaining nothing else but muscle tone and losing a few pounds in weight, plus several golf balls. Played into the teeth of a force 'ever so strong' gale last week on the links course at Newbiggin-by-the -Sea.

Scores after the first nine holes were low to non-existent, but at the turn, with a 50 mph gale behind most shots, scores improved to such a degree that most of us high handicappers were in mortal danger of receiving the dreaded "Handicap chop" ! On one hole, aptly named " Prevailing Wind" a 360 yard, par 4, with a green which is hidden by large dunes, the fairway traverses a "col" or valley between two dunes. My tee shot edged left as per usual and disappeared from my sight amongst the low rough high up on the left dune. All four of us went into "Search mode", head down, scan ahead, then to the side, carry on pacing, for the obligatory 5 minutes. I reached the top of the col and looked towards the green. 200 yards away, a solitary ball was lying on the green about 20 yards past the pin. I immediately dismissed this as being mine, it was just too far, and selected a replacement from my bag, and resignedly added a penalty 2 to my score. Just as I was lining up this my fourth shot, a cry from one of my playing partners, "Ya ower heor, hinny!" ** . I looked up and my friend was pointing to the solitary ball, and waving me down. Sure enough it was mine. Wind and ground shape assisted, the ball had travelled more than 370 yards, easily my longest drive to date!

** "Geordie Speak" for "You are over here, young Sir!" :-)

Jasmine - A nice story!!

Jasmine - A nice story!!