In between what? Flowers don’t care what is going on in the blogging world as long as someone waters them in our ongoing heatwave.
In the meantime I’m between homes and computers so who knows what might happen!
Will I get out of the bloghole?
Will this unblog get posted? See you on the other side ….hopefully…..
It seems lots of us have a stationery addiction, we can’t resist buying notebooks and journals, then can’t bear to spoil them by writing in them, or start a journal which only lasts a few pages. Judging by the cover design, how old do you think this notebook might be? At writers’ group we wondered how many of us had written long ago and if we still had our words of wisdom. I thought I had written ‘a few bits’ but found three full notebooks. This one was started in 1972 in Perth, Western Australia when I was nineteen and the handwriting neater than I remember. On the back it says Made in Japan – how long since you saw those words on humble everyday objects? How has it survived crossing the world and moving numerous times? I’m not going to start reading it all to you, but here are two pertinent snippets.
‘Our literature lecturer commented this morning that most writers of renown started their career by keeping a personal record. As I have aspirations to be an authoress of some sort I thought this to be a good idea.’
What took those aspirations so long?
My first entry for September, 1972 turned out to be very relevant.
‘Today was one of those pleasant spring days. The sun is still friendly and hasn’t yet become that hot enemy of summer.’
In the midst of our third heatwave in England, proof indeed that I never liked very hot weather. Too hot is too hot wherever you are, though in Australia we had the advantage of latitude with the sun dropping promptly down below the horizon. We have long warm evenings. The grass on the cliff will recover, grass always does and I am thankful for our sea breezes. The sky was hazy and the sea calm yesterday so come along and cool off. No pictures of being in the sea as my phone would get wet, but I think you should come in the water.
That is a person swimming in the middle of the picture, not a shark.
Have you words of wisdom preserved from long ago?
Yes it really is that blue…
But sometimes smart phones don’t capture the moment – What I saw as I arrived at the cliff top – a snowy white yacht gleaming on a sparkling sea… I had to zoom in to my picture to see if I had imagined a boat…
We have our own Mount Rushmore – who would you like to see carved into our cliffs?
Be glad you are not a cactus…
Two days of glory and attention…
Then it’s all over for another year or two.
When you fall down a blog hole...
In the unlikely event you notice some absences on my part in July it will be due to summer projects or some projects. Forty one years ago people said ‘Pregnant?! What do you want another baby for, you have a boy and a girl?’ The answer was ‘So when he grows up he can do every home improvement imaginable, sort out all my technical problems, install a new computer and cook dinners.’ When he brought home his now wife and said she was a lighting technician and pyrotechnic expert, we knew life was going to be fun and he would have someone to help him with every project imaginable.
As we pass the the halfway mark of the year have you any summer or winter projects planned?
Everyone can reminisce, unless they have total amnesia or do we need someone we can reminisce with? Often the other person does not remember the event or recalls it totally differently, but shared memories are fun. Shared memories also have an expiry date unless they have been written down. As the eldest sibling I am now the only one who remembers The Twickenham Years. My brother and sister were toddler and a six month old baby when our parents bought their first house.
My six and a half years in the rented top of the Victorian terrace where I was born were happy, but then I was blissfully unaware of what else was going on. By the time my brother was born my mother had lost three babies and both her parents. When my sister was born Mum nearly died and all I remember was the Black Magic chocolate orange cream. When she came out of hospital after the ‘eight pints of blood’ that were to become family legend, her best friend brought round a box of chocolates and I had the orange cream. I had told my teacher that Mummy was in hospital with a bad back.
An internet search reveals the row of houses looks much the same as I remember, snapping pictures from the computer screen gives the pictures a suitably nostalgic hazy appearance. Now turned back into the elegant large homes they were originally I was surprised how easy it was to pinpoint information about our old home via ‘Mouseprice’. In a surreal moment back in 1990 we took the children to look at my place of birth and the night before I had a psychic feeling there would be a For Sale board up – and there was. I took the number of the estate agents and rang them up to ask the price, which was a quarter of a million, astonishing at the time. No chance of us buying it! When I say my parents moved out to buy their own home it was not in this area, there was nothing they could afford. How much might it be worth now?
Welcome to 295 St Margarets Road, Twickenham, a charming and spacious terraced type home with 4 bed in the TW1 1PN area. This lovely residence, which comes with the freedom and stability of a freehold ownership, and sits comfortably in tax band .
This classic property was built before 1900 and has a reported internal area of 178.0 internal square metres in a neighborhood known for its allure and prestige. This home stands out for its value and character – with a market valuation of £1,042,000 and a rental potential of £3,209 per month, and a 5 year CAGR of 12%, it represents not just a residence but a worthwhile investment in a sought-after area.
You can discover more about this property by reading the Mouseprice attributes tables in the next section, or if you are the owner and would like to update this property, for example if you’ve built an extension, you can do so at the top of this page.
Meanwhile, back to the past.
A dreadful old lady ( Mum’s words ) lived on the ground floor with a kitchen a scullery and no bathroom. The rental agreement was that she could come upstairs once a week to use our bath. She used to come up with a pack of Omo, a brand of washing powder claimed to make clothes whiter than white. Our bathroom was scary with the hot water provided by a monstrous noisy boiler looming over the end of the bath. It was called a geyser. It would be many years before I realised geysers were real geothermal features hotter, more dangerous and even older than ours.
In the kitchen a more modern and elegant Ascot heater over the sink provided the hot water. After hand washing clothes and boiling nappies Mum would lean out of the kitchen window to hang them on a pulley washing line attached to a post at the end of the back garden far below. The garden was part of the old lady’s rental and we never set foot in it.
I have a vivid memory of staring out of the living room window on a sunny day desperate to be outside, but in fairness to my parents they were constantly taking me out for fresh air and exercise, down by the River Thames and to various nice parks nearby. Later Mum would look back and wonder how she managed to push the pram with two children and me on my tricycle and get across the main road to Marble Hill Park. Indoors there was fun to be had as Dad made me a rocking horse which sat in the bay window. It did not look like a horse, but was a smaller version of park rocking horses with a proper rocking mechanism and I really felt like the Lone Ranger.
At some stage my parents acquired an old ‘jalopy’ which I thought was its make, not its nickname. Small and black it needed to be cranked up with the metal handle inserted in the front of the engine. In this we were able to go on outings to Kew Gardens and Richmond Park. One time I was convinced I had stroked the nose of a deer with huge antlers. When I told my parents and aunt and uncle they did not believe me and I am beginning to wonder myself…
The jalopy lived in a garage in someone’s garden in a house across the main road we lived on. Dad drove it into London to his office and on summer evenings when he came home Mum would see me across the road to run and meet him. As The Woodentops were my favourite puppets on Watch With Mother, one time I ran to him calling ‘Hello Daddy Woodentop’. This caused amusement as Dad, like all the men in his family was bald.
It was at Penn Ponds in Richmond Park that I did not learn to swim, but did love wading around. I have always thought hot weather means you should be immersed in water of some sort. One time I found floating in the pond a brightly coloured feathery creature and picked it up, only to look up and see an angry man trying to fish and telling me off.
As my brother got mobile and Mum had a baby to deal with, I would sometimes be locked in the front room with him. This might sound bad, but the alternative was presumably him falling down the steep staircase and fracturing his skull on the tiled floor below. On one occasion I credit myself with saving his life, though at the time I thought I would get told off for making him vomit. He was choking on a plastic rose from his toy watering can. As I did not know the Heinrich manoeuvre, I stuck my hand down his throat to pull it out.
By this time I was at school. I had begged to go to school and Mum got me in to The Blue School in Isleworth at four and a half years. I started just after my baby brother had arrived so probably thought I was being ousted. It was a long walk and I had to be dragged crying with the promise of Robin comic at the weekend, or threats of no Robin comic at the weekend. Thanks to the internet we know this Church of England School is still flourishing after nearly 400 years. It looked pretty old when I went there, but they were building a new school building right next to it as we left the area.
It was Mum’s friend Pam at the bank where she worked who had led to my parents finding somewhere to live and being able to get married in the post war shortage of homes. Her parents rented a downstairs flat in the same row of terraced houses and knew the landlord who had a vacant upstairs flat for rent. Pam lived with her parents and as there was only one bedroom she slept on a ‘put me down’ settee in the front room. As far as I know she never left.
After we moved away we did go back to visit the old couple, Pam’s parents. In their garden was a fish pond and enough room for us to run around and play while the grown ups were having boring conversations. I did get told off for getting the poodle excited and risking him having a heart attack. But worse was to follow. Nobody had told me I was acting as life guard. While I was playing round the corner my sister fell in the fish pond, luckily seen by the grown ups through the window. I was soon alerted to the drama, wondering why all the adults had rushed outside. The old lady said I would get a black spot in heaven.
Mum and Dad were glad to get their own house with a garden, but missed the lovely area we had lived in which is still highly sought after. In Farnborough, Hampshire Dad joined the other fathers on the new estate who commuted up to Waterloo on the steam train.
Have you vivid memories of your early homes or been back to visit?
Quentin Quick was looking forward to the meeting of the Puddleminster Pens. Working their way through the alphabet they had reached the letter Q, his nickname. At his suggestion they did not pick a single word for this week, but searched for as many words beginning with Q as possible. Quentin had an ulterior motive, he was addicted to playing Words With Friends on his phone and Q was worth ten points, but hard to place. The group had discussed whether any English word could feature Q without a U. Words With Friends accepted QI, but Puddleminster Pens did not.
Quentin actually had a love hate relationship with Q as he could not escape it. As the fifth to be born and the only boy in a set of quins, life was always going to be challenging. His mother quipped that only sextuplets got serious publicity and quillions of quids. His querulous father Mr Quincy Quick queried if the quins were even his; after all, no quins had ever been born on his side of the family.
As they all grew, his hopes of having an amazing family, like that lot on television, were quashed. His favourite quote was ‘We landed quantity over quality.’ The junior Quicks were unlikely to turn into a musical quintet or quest for fame of any sort. Rather than musical harmony or team sport the quins would constantly quibble.
As Quentin scribbled, wondering if his piece would be an autobiography, he was in a quandary. Should it be entertaining or an honest account of their lives… Five Alive, what was that film called with the robot called Number Five? His parents had splashed out on a rare trip to the cinema and bought them popcorn, well one large tub to share… His mind was wandering, but he could not resist looking it up. Short Circuit, that led to his sisters and friends calling him Number Five for a good while and asking him if he had been struck by lightning.
The family had attracted quite a bit of attention in the cinema foyer. Looking back, he realised his mother’s obsession with the Sound of Music had not only led to her praying for a large family, but had influenced her dressmaking. She was an excellent seamstress and without her skills it would have been a hardship buying all their clothes, but it was an understatement to say the children all looked rather quaint. She did try to make their only son look different from his sisters, but young Quentin begged to also have a frilly dress. Mrs Quick had to warn her husband to be politically correct and let Quentin be himself.
‘I have one son and he turns out to be q…’
‘Quincy… try to be more sensitive, what if he grows up artistic and writes a tv series about us?’
But Quincy found it hard dealing with five adolescents. Queenie did her brother’s make up for him, while Quintessa announced she was trying out for the junior women’s football team and Quilla was the only one who took school work seriously as she wanted to do quantum physics.
Quentin sighed. Quilla was now well known in scientific fields, but the rest of the family had remained unknown and poor. Quentin still liked dressing up, but did not have the personality or bone structure to become a class drag act. So the only thing left to do was try and write a book. Hence his joining the Puddleminster Pens.
Thursday arrived and the group seemed to enjoy his ramblings and tentative scribbles, encouraging him to keep writing, get it all down on paper, then polish it. Only Captain Pedantic, as they called him, had a quibble.
‘There is no such word, no such number as Quillions.’
It’s a busy time of year for gardeners and writing falls by the wayside. Torrential rain and thunderstorms should have given me more time with my quill, but I have been to an author coffee morning and been roped in to a quiz and that was just Saturday. We came fourth and I answered at least one question – ‘Gone With The Wind’ – what was the question? An interesting round was ‘Cheese or motorway services?’ which proved surprisingly difficult. At least the rain has filled my water butts and the wildflower wheelbarrow is flourishing.
Oil painting
If only ChatGPT could come and improve our real gardens, not just the photos.
Water colour
The world cup is happening right now. If you don’t know what they are playing, answer at the end. Having a big garden tidy up I found this mini Scotland player and that night they won their first match, so now he is my mascot. I’m the only person in my family with no known Scottish blood. When I consulted them for a name for the wee one Cyberson 2 suggested Red Jock McPlastic. Scotland play again on Friday night. Cyberson 1 has the shirt.
Today it was announced our government intend to ban social media for under sixteens. Which made made me wonder how over sixties would feel if we were banned. I’m not even sure I understand what constitutes social media and what does not. I would certainly be upset if we were not allowed to use WordPress. Lots of us have little addictions like Words With Friends – above is a typical score for me, but it’s still fun. Also useful as you can check if other friends living alone are fine – if they play back first thing in the morning you know they are still alive.
This scene may look peaceful, but any moment now a herd of schoolteens and bicycles are going to appear over the horizon as school finishes. Eavesdropping as I was walking home I heard one boy say ‘But What are we going to Watch?!‘ another said ‘I bet under sixteens are going to march on parliament on Saturday.’
The answers are The first colour film to win an Oscar and Football.
What’s happening your way this week?
I have not been tested yet, but I am having to come to terms with the fact that I may be neurotypical. I had not even heard the term before a speaker at a writers’ festival apologised for being one hundred percent neurotypical. Hopefully I’m not at the top of the range. Nobody in my family is neurotypical so I do not understand why this has happened to me. Perhaps it explains why the world around me seems to be descending into madness. At least I could now have a career as a stand up comedian, their routines always come round to revealing they have been diagnosed with some kind of syndrome.
So now with your help I must try and make sense of what is happening in other people’s lives.
If you were the First Minister of Scotland and leader of the Scottish National Party and your husband was arrested for embezzlement from the party you both served, would you have been totally shocked with no idea anything was wrong? Huge amounts of money that came from loyal supporters who wanted an independent Scotland. Not billions, but well over £400, 000 is a lot to disappear without ANYBODY noticing.
What Peter Murrell bought is what has been most entertaining for the public and a welcome break from darker news. Everything from up market coffee machines to a camper van.
Now I can understand Nicola Sturgeon’s claims that two adults with good salaries would have separate bank accounts and be independent and as a busy career woman she could expect her husband to run the house and the domestic budget. Those of us who had one joint account and a very tight budget can still imagine the scenario. But the camper van? What wife would not expect that to be a joint purchase with fun discussions about future holidays? What mother would not be surprised to wake up and find a camper van in her driveway? Did Murrell mention it to his mother? Picture the scene with the neighbours…
‘Och how lovely dearie, is your wee Petie goin to take you on a trip up to the highlands?’
Or perhaps other neighbours would not be so happy for her.
‘Hey Hen, whit the **** is that monster vehicle doing blocking the sunlight from oor hoose?’
Perhaps the whole nation should be grateful he was arrested before he made more bizarre purchases.
South American drug lord Pablo Escobar made the original unwise purchase of four hippos for his private estate in the 1980s, making Columbia the only country outside the African continent with a wild hippo population.
Now the two hundred splendid beasts face a cull, but Indian magnate Anant Ambani has offered to rescue eighty of the two hundred and rehome them in his rescue centre. Imagine if Murrell had offered to rescue the remainder?
Have you ever made a mad purchase you regretted? I won’t ask if you have ever been tempted to embezzle…
This is a genuine walk, get off the bus, down towards the sea, turn right and walk all the way down the road. On the way can you spot one of the venues for the Bournemouth Writing Festival and the burial place of Mary Shelley? I did have fun photographing everything I saw.
Here is my bus on the worst road surface ever, a real bone shaker stretch.
You may need a drink after that walk.
Read about the writing festival in my next blog.
Did you enjoy your walk?
I nearly caught up with my blog then it disappeared down a tunnel.
If we follow it upstairs we might end up at an event, but you will have to wait till next time to find out…
Have you any idea where you are?
Do you find new technology mind boggling? By new I mean anything that you did not personally know about this time last week. Do you find recent innovations mind boggling? By recent I mean anything that has happened since you left school.
You obviously think you know about technology otherwise you would not be reading this on a device of some sort, but do you know how it actually works? If you do, please let the rest of us know. For most of us the mysterious workings are akin to alchemy or the dark arts. Chips are involved and are made of silicone, rather than potatoes and silicone is made from sand. There is plenty of sand on the beach, but what happens next?
On line workings are supposedly run by AI, or computers as we used to call them, but how come these logical beings have a very human urge to deliberately annoy us?
I can do all sorts of things on line, but Arty Imp lulls me into a false sense of security and confidence. Browsing wallpaper on B&Q’s site on my desk top ( I like to see everything on a large screen ) it offered to send samples for a small remuneration. I put several into the shopping basket, already I could picture how my attic office might look. I put in my order as a guest, it wouldn’t let me, it seemed I had joined B&Q Club when I bought one garden chair on line. I looked up my little notebook and typed in my email and the password I had presumably used last time. It did not recognise it. No problem, just pretend I had forgotten it. Nothing would enable me to get a password they approved of, links were sent to my email, texted to me… I gave up, it would be easier to take two buses to my nearest B&Q where I would not see the wallpapers I liked, because they had already told me they were only available on line… Anyway, not as if it was important… but thinking outside the box later I decided to pretend I was a new customer and use my other email address, Not join the club, say No to being on the emailing list. I did not want any sort of relationship, just the wallpaper samples. My purchase went straight through with reassuring emails and they soon arrived in the post. Of course, obviously if I choose one I like they will not actually let me buy a whole roll…
To check how Tech Savy you are take this simple test.
You want to send money to your nephew for his birthday. Do you
It’s your sister’s birthday today, do you
You have not heard from your elderly aunt for a few days, do you
You need a relaxing evening after dealing with technology all day, do you
If you answered A to all the questions welcome to the first quarter of the 21st century, but beware what you will face in this next quarter.
If you answered B every time you just might be able to cope if all the electricity is switched off, perhaps…
But how is the present matching up to the future predicted in the 20th century? We are not sitting at a phone table with a curly wire attaching our phone to the wall and a little TV screen showing a live picture of our relatives on the other side of the world.
The first ‘mobile phones’ most of us saw were on Star Trek, some of us watching in black and white. Their hand held flip up devices could Teleport them down to a strange planet, but they could not take photos, text their friends, watch videos or Facetime with friends on the other side of the universe. It may have slowed the plot if they had to play back on Quiz Planet before stepping on to their platform.
On arrival on the new planet they stop to take a selfie together in front of a strange volcano so they can put it on Instagram. Then Captain Kirk pauses to take a picture of the Aliens who have crept up without them noticing. He wants to WhatsApp a picture to his mother billions of light years away.
Meanwhile a junior officer has not noticed the aliens as he is bending down to snap strange plants using the plant recognition App.
His colleague is glued to the screen exclaiming ‘210 points for OXO, how did he do that and I’ve got all vowels’.
Captain Kirk is now on Google maps, having failed to understand what the Aliens are saying, their language is not coming up on his translation App.
The weather App was not much use either as it failed to predict the electric storm and downpour of acid rain. It seems like a good time to beam up, but their phones need recharging…
Did you score A or B or perhaps AB? What is your favourite 21st Century invention?
