I do hope that you're all having a splendiferously wonderful weekend.
Yesterday would have been my Dad's 72nd birthday - his first one away from us. This didn't stop us celebrating, however. We had a family breakfast at a local pub, and then we took a trip down to the lottie where his ashes are buried to spend a few reflective moments. It had been miserable and raining all morning. A steady, cold, relentless downpour which dampens the spirits - if you let it of course. However, in a typical "Peter Kay" moment, as soon as we trooped on to the allotment site, the sun came out, the sky became an incredible Wedgwood blue, and it was truly beautiful. The huge Norway Spruce pine tree which towers above one of the sheds is absolutely laden with cones and these were illuminated against the clear skies, hanging almost in bunches of long spindle shapes.
It is my personal choice that I'm not keen on laying flowers at a graveside or in remembrance. I think that it's a complete waste of money and a travesty to lay bunches of flowers which will simply die and rot away. I'd rather plant something in memory and will get a little acer tree next time I can get to the garden centre. On this occasion, however, I took a carved pumpkin instead, set it by the little wishing well which stands above his ashes and lit a candle inside the pumpkin. He'd have liked that, me old Dad. He's been gone four months today, and although they say time is a great healer, I don't find it any less painful now than I did at his passing. I'm sure things will get easier, but for now, "Happy Birthday Pops, I love and miss you more than I ever thought imaginable".
This picture is of Dad, my brother, and me, taken circa 1972. It's great isn't it?!
After our little ceremony, we went on our usual foray into Stourbridge town to do the weekly shop. The so-called Farmer's Market is usually there on the first Saturday in the month. It's a little disappointing really. There is one stall which sells game and organic meat, another selling veg, a bakery stall, preserves and olives and... hmmmm... that's about it really. The other stalls feature that ubiquitous, sparkly imported jewellery and tat, and another some cheap and nasty clothes from Chavs-ville. It's official. I am a Farmer's Market snob and I care not!
We sought solace for our disappointment at the lack of produce in a local coffee house and bad BAD man treated me to this:-
|Black Forest Hot Chocolate - and yes - it was as teeth looseningly (!) uber-sweet as it looks and |
utterly gorgeous! and no - I didn't lick the saucer! (Not whilst anyone was looking anyway ;) )
Advance warning is issued now for the following G.O.W.* Rant
Later on, we rounded up the cats and made sure that they were safe in KTT's bedroom and battened down the hatches against the BLOODY FIREWORKS!! GRRR!!! I HATE them with a passion. Our poor Harvey is beside himself from the first tell tale pop and whistle outside and by the time gatling gun-like repeater air bombs go off he's a quivering wreck. It breaks my heart. He flattens himself to the floor and stares at us as if to say "make it stop". No amount of encouragement, praise, treats nor diversion tactics help.
I can never help having a little rant about fireworks. A guy in front of us at Aldi yesterday spent in excess of £90 on them. £90!! This is our weekly rent! And what does he have to show for that money today? Well, nothing apart from a few blackened spots around his garden, empty cardboard packaging and a considerable dent in his wallet. They never just happen on November 5 any more do they? We've been hearing the around here now since mid-October and they are likely to continue for at least another couple of weeks when our large Asian community celebrate Diwali circa 13th.
Oh.. AND - the stupidest of stupid things is when they're let off during the day. Why? Pah!
G.O.W. falls off soap box.
Today has been doings of a domestic nature. We have given the chicken run and coop a deep clean prior to the cold weather setting in to ensure that our one remaining chucklet, Princess Leia, is as comfortable as we can make her. She is now scratching around, ankle deep in fresh woodshavings and barley straw, pecking away at morsels undetectable to the human eye. She seems a little nonplussed at the moment and is obviously missing her partner in crime. (Hattie didn't make it. It was clear when we went up to check yesterday that she was hanging on by a mere thread and put up no fight at all when Man did the necessary to help her on her way. She's buried now in her favourite corner of the garden where they all dust bathed in the warmer months)..
It's a raw old coldy cold day today. Now that the chores of domesticity are more or less done, I intend to snuggle.
So it's on with the feathery fluffy socks:-
|I chose the pink and blue pair. You needed to know this didn't you and I didn't want to leave you hanging!|
And with the insane new slippers! I am truly THE height of sexiness right now. Man just doesn't know what to do with himself!
So, the fetchingly attired feet are well and truly up. The fruity teabag is well and truly dunked:-