Friday 23 September 2016

To keep or not to keep ...


... I'm referring to books. Three years ago DH removed all of my books from the three expansive bookcases lined up in our hallway and dumped them unceremoniously on the kitchen floor to make room for a monster of a model boat he'd inherited.

Three years later and my books, which scattered to the 4 corners of the house as a consequence, remain gathering dust and feeling unloved. Admittedly, the children's encyclopaedias, bought in the nineties, are a tad out of date and the volumes of science books merely hinted at the imminent likelihood of mobile phones ( the size of bricks no doubt) . The literature texts are as valid now as they ever were Shakespeare will be relived to hear but I'm wondering whether the Ideal Homes Book of Soft Furnishings with its lavish photographs of swags and festoon blinds ( remember them ? ) should be consigned to the bin or made into ironic greetings cards.

Decision made. They're all off to the charity shop. I do all my research on the internet now, once read, I pass on fiction to friends and I never will get around to reading , let alone understanding anything Stephen Hawking has ever written . The Dorling Kindersley Book of Trucks was a passing whim for my boys and as for that ruddy Times Atlas of the World which was impossibly outsized for any bookshelf I've ever owned, I will be glad to get shot of it.

I can't quite bring myself to chuck out my Mary Berry cookery books though so they will have to find a niche in the kitchen . Some things are, after all , sacred.





Box one of about fifty. The irony of the title of a book wedged over on the right hand side was not lost on me - Don't Throw it Away - was it trying to tell me something ?



Wednesday 14 September 2016

Careful what you wish for

I was going to call this post ' The Poldark Effect - Semi- Naked Torsos' ( scroll down for self-explanatory photo )  but thought I might attract unwanted attention . Instead I went with the far safer " Careful What You Wish For '

I was awoken at an ungodly hour yesterday by the most ear-splittingly loud noise. The tree fellers ( there were actually three fellas as it happened ) had arrived to pollard the beautiful trees in our road. From experience  I now realise that you have to make friends with the enemy, so I went and offered them a cup of tea . Three teapots, several jugs of iced water and a couple of rounds of cheese and ham sandwiches later ( it was hot and thirsty work in 32 degree heat ) , I idly enquired about what might happen to some of the larger trunks as they'd also felled a couple of dying trees. I was told they'd be sent off to a Bio-Mass fuel plant in France. Shame, I wondered aloud.

I showed them a couple of tree trunks that I'd acquired over the years ( thanks Kate and Emma ) to use as side tables, garden stools and cat scratching posts and asked that if they ever had a little chunk of weed going spare, I'd be happy to give it a home.

Look what I woke up to this morning ...



The lads ( my new best friends ) had turned up on our doorstep with a special delivery just for me -           and were standing by for me to choose and to to cut a bespoke piece on my instructions. Bless their bronzed and rippling six packs - did I mention they were rather fit ?

The local neighbourhood cats turned up to see what all the fuss was about and Jenny chose the gnarliest , knobbliest scratching post she'd ever laid her little kitten eyes upon. Then they carried it down the side of the house ( all 80kg of it ) and placed it on the patio for me (stopping only briefly to modestly replace their T shirts) for me to take their photo - well you can't miss a ( near ) Poldark moment now can you ?


Thanks chaps for flexing those muscles  being so kind.