Mixed messages.
At one time I WAS seen as fey or sidhe. That quickly turned in SHEE’S FEY- KE.
Fake as a photo of a fairy.
We Scots/Celts have an inbuilt respect for the preternatural. Exist or not exist doesn’t come into it.
There is always a HIGHER realm.
BFF & I have a cunning plan.
We are both escaping real life, nicking a Campervan and finding a mountain and/or loch to live in the shelter off. Sans husbands, sans kids, sans drudge.
Her ancestry is wonderful. Welsh, White Jamaican, a teensy bit of Scottish and her Dad was born of a German Baron.
Why the Highlands? Nobody knows :o)
I’ve been watching these videos today in preparation for life in the wild mountainsides with a mad woman who has led me into many a madcap adventure since we were kids !!!
BTW : the image above is a Tartan Favour. My wedding cake was decorated with them and all the family was given a piece of MacGregor Tartan as a token of love and fidelity.
P.S. She may be half Red, Gold and Green.
I’m ALL Red, White and Green !
For me, the most glorious prose ever written belongs to the Shakespeare play HAMLET.
I wrote about Kronborg Castle, Denmark way back in June 2019.
Jacquelyn GreigBeautiful, Star Forts1 CommentEdit”Mysterious Elsinore”
Kronborg Castle, Denmark was supposedly the model for Hamlet’s Elsinore.
Kronborg is a fecking beautiful Star Fort.
Will come back to it another time :o)
****
Aewar and Wooden Nickels just posted a fabulous video about Starforts.
Far too many of my nearest and dearest know that I have a Not So Secret Pash for KenBran.
This speech. About war. Spine-tingly.
Altai is in Southern Siberia.
Old Believers are Russian who rejected the new “religion” and kept to the Old Eastern Orthodox Religion of times before the 17th century.
Mmmn. 1603. Such an important date. The date that the Romanov came to power and began to destroy the Old Believers.
I feel them. Outcast. Unwanted. Unneeded. Abandoned.
:o)
But we can keep our ancestors and our history ALIVE.
Neeps and tatties and mince. LOL!
BTW – neeps are SWEDES not turnips. You turnip-heads.
I have not touched on this subject since early 2019.
Many years ago whilst researching the early 15th century, I came across the Black Madonna phenomenon. It has always intrigued and I promised my self back then that, when the time was right, I’d investigate deeper.
Seeing differently now, learning so many new things, I think the time is very right.
Black Madonnas, whether picture or statues are found WORLDWIDE. Yet nobody knows how, where, when, why.
The image above is the Black Madonna of Russia.
This one above is in Dublin, Ireland.
This is from Poland.
They are all beautiful and they always depict the Virgin Mary and Christ child.
Let’s see where we end up going :o)
****
I’m still not 100% sure of the history of these many but rarely talked about icons. The links are numerous and often spurious. But I have the formation of article coming together.
Yay :o)
God. I LOVE Pikeys.
I’m a pikey at heart. Always was and will be.
I love their disregard for “the norms” and their complete devotion to FAMILY.
TRUE STORY from today.
He’s 2 hours late because of ER. They were caught up in a fracas in SkegVegas.
Some numb-nut drug dealer tried selling drugs to an 11 year old Irish gypsy kid. His Dad saw and went totally mentals. Hammer. Car smashed to bits as dealer tried to escape. Dad turns up at dealers house with a mate and smashes down the front door.
Somethings are just not worth trying. And messing with the gypsies is high on the list.
The Dad says to my husband – No fff druggie is ffff selling fffff shit to my ffffffffff family.
Love it.
BTW – despite what others say, this is Brad’s BEST role ever. In my humble opinion.
I’ve been told off for burning the wood in the wood burner….Doesn’t grow on trees, y’know!
But it’s getting chilly :o(
Two life-savers today.
My son has just bought me a fluffy and tartan blanket that’s also a cape with poppers/snaps. To wear inside the house.
And I’ve made chilli baked potatoes for tea.
With lots and lots of grated Red Leicester Cheese on top.
Noice :o)
It was so lovely last evening.
Knock on the door. Son opens and I hear a manly hug and back slap.
His mates walk into the kitchen, arms wide open for a hug from me.
And it was a proper hug. Held for ages.
When we upgraded the pigsty to a man cave/bar and all these kids would be here every week…it was a place to speak their minds.
Aka – that actual bar was painted white with lots of felt tips in a jug on top.
The drunken messages written were brilliant. One I remember more than the rest. It started at the top with – “My Mum is better than your Mum”
Everyone chipped in.
Kids today would NEVER EVER EVEN think of writing that.
Every morning I was there with sweet hot tea, Alka Seltzers, Anadin or a bacon sandwich. Depending on the level of the hangover.
Some Ties Bind Stronger Than Others.
Thank you, kids. Love you all :o)
I almost cried when I saw my youngest walk into the carpark, where I was waiting, after his visit to our tiny market town Arab Barber shop for a hair/beard/ear/eyebrow thingy. He smelled divine.
Bear with me.
Son first went to Dubai aged 20 to work with his Dad and spent a few years there, on and off. So he has a real affinity with Arab Barbers. The eyebrow threading. The nose and ear waxing. The slap of a boiling hot towel on the face. The fragrant oils. So much more sophisticated than the old UK barber with manic scissors and his “something for the weekend, sir?” as he eyes the condom machine.
Tonight my boy is going out for dinner with two of his best mates from school.
WOW.
It’s 5 or 6 years since I’ve seen these two. Once upon a time they were regulars in our house. From the age of 11 up to their mid/late-20’s.
This child is so much like me. Difficult. Arsey. Out-spoken but with a wide and long-lasting group of school mates.
I’m so excited to see the boys again. Sorry. MEN
!
:o)
When you are born to man who plays the snare drum and a woman who ALWAYS had the radio on and sang – you come into life surrounded by music.
To this day, the snare sound makes the hairs stand on end.
When said father is also a Scot…….hopeless.
I’ll leave a light on
?
Only for those who want it.
And this candle is now very dim. Sadly.
P.S. Dad taught me how to tighten the skin on his drum. A wonderful memory of being in the barracks with the band preparing for a performance. No sticky fingers allowed near brass!
:o)
I’ve left this alone for so long because to me Agatha was always Poirot or Miss Marple.
I reluctantly read Tommy and Tuppence – and quite enjoyed.
I’d never heard of The Mysterious Mr Quin and when found – he and Mr Satterthwaite became firm faves.
Agatha used her knowledge of the Commedia dell’arte to full here. Harley Quin – the sprite?
Enter Mr J. Parker Pyne.
He’s spent his working life in an office doing statistics.
Not the best blurb for a book cover.
BUT…..I’m really enjoying the 12 stories now. Read by Hugh Fraser aka Captain Hastings of the most relaxing voice ever :o)
Zombies thrive and live on the living because they are DEAD inside.
There is one woman that I can always go back to. My personal hero.
I have lived in Ulster twice. Once as a serving soldier. Once as a “wife of” a serving soldier.
About 3 years ago when the hatred began against me on yt, a certain person made a video and in the live chat (after I’d talked here several times about Dolores) chatters were saying how a woman in the video looked so much like that girl from the Cranberries.
I may be a freaking freak but I have (like my father) a photographic memory.
Dolores O’Riordan was sexually abused by her local CATHOLIC priest.
Her mother refused to believe her.
I never told my parents about my abuse. I’d’ve been hit from here to kingdom come.
Dolores. I love her.
I grew up with this dish.
We had an amah in Singapore and she taught my Mum how to make it.
Mum – being English – translated it to feed young kids and then older kids. I know the difference. I had authentic Nasi Goreng in Singapore a few years back. HOT as ….
Her recipe used pork, liver, prawns, omelette, spring onions and rice.
I used to line the the prawns up around the edge of my plate like Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Sailor, Rich Man, Poor Man, Beggar Man, Thief.
Then she’d make me eat all those fishy little beasties :o(
Enter the soy sauce.
Today I marinated the pork in sesame oil, hoisin and soy sauce before frying it.
GREAT SUCCESS.
My boys call it Nazi Goering. That’s what a good education will do to kids :o)
I had to go to the garage a while ago and ….music. A voice I love. A tune I know. I’m bopping and miming down the aisle as I look for local farmers’ eggs.
Kelly. Grrrrrrmmmm! Even though he’s WELSH.
Ooops. I married a Welsh halfling.
It’s been almost 2 years since we lost Tsar. He was our 4th GSD and my baby.
I’m just about ready for another dog in my life. The boys would love one too so that’s 3 against one.
Our first GSD was with us when my eldest was born. Doggy came to Ulster with us and him and the little boy had such a wonderful relationship. To this day I can’t figure out how the two of them worked the scam but one or ‘t’other would distract me when my son was in his high chair eating and I’d suddenly find the dog finishing off the kid’s meal, on the floor, amongst loads of baby giggles.
There are NO bad dogs. Only bad owners. And GSD’s will protect their human family from all and everything.
P.S. I filmed this in our kitchen. FACT!
Loving her :o)
Well, now. Who’d’ve thought that research done over 20 years ago would come back to me right now?
Historical Fiction writers are unashamed plagiarist’s. They (or maybe just me!!) love to use personal accounts of the time like letters, memoires, diaries and travelogues.
I’d used Coryat’s travel impressions several times. Along with his patterns of speech and vocabulary.
For some unknown reason he is embedded in this new line of research. Not only via his timeline, his journeys, his patron… but also his closest friends.
The Game’s Afoot as Henry V said long before Sherlock Holmes :o)
I’ve been promising for days now and finally got round to making it today.
I have Paul Hollywood’s book and love it.
Today we doubled all the ingredients to make a HUGE loaf.
Thoda Bweath?
Youngest and I couldn’t wait to taste so we ate some – straight out of the oven.
Ouch. Burn. Stupids :o)
P.S. I use semi-skilled milk (yup!) with a splash/dash of lemon juice to sour it….much like buttermilk.
P.P.S. The Irish say that you cut the cross in the top to bless it and prick all four quarters to let the fairies out. How wonderfully Christian/Pagan !
Great Expectations.
Nah. I know. But I’m having a Dickens of a day.
We have an “antique” shop in town called Great Expectations and I visited it for the first time in about 4 years this morning.
Jeebuth. What a mess. Replace Antique with JUNK.
But I did find the book above. An old accounts book with beautiful marbling, some pages missing but mostly empty.
I rarely go out and about anymore. It’s so hard to socialise and be what my parents taught me to be. Polite and friendly and interested. Though I can say the words and smile the smile whilst inside is silent and still and a hundred thousand miles away.
It’s quite sad to realise that the beauty of an old work book, the binding, the feel of the paper, the real ink page numbers written by someone long ago gave me more pleasure than any person did.
My family know me. They understand but get extremely frustrated at times like this. When “I” disappear and they are left with an automaton.
My thanks to three Wonder Walls :o)
P.S. I still have nightmares about double entry bookkeeping as taught to me when I was 21 and working in a hotel in Amesbury.
I HATE MATHS!
This is a smell that was part of my life for a few years.
I was once told as a child that every country has it’s own smell. Well – UAE smells of oud.
Everywhere you go, they burn this incense. I bought loads home with me, along with charcoal blocks. My traveller-in-crime and I even got lost and abandoned in the souk in Old Dubai searching for the best oud. Absolute True Truth.
Recently I came across the product above on ama z on. Nag Champa has been my go to incense for almost a quarter of a century so I knew it’d be good.
WOW. The house smells like the Middle East right now :o)
I’m open to a NagChampa sponsorship vibe – LOL !
We’ve had a very pathetic thunderstorm every day for the past 5 days. Two rumbles, one flash.
But the rain is coming down like stair rods.
OK. There was a choice here. Eurhythmics or Travis?
Dang. I can’t resist Fran Healy.
My bad :o(
She’s a bit of a hero of mine. A local girl.
Sherriff of Nottingham? Nah. Nichola was Sherriff of the WHOLE OF LINCOLNSHIRE.
I’ve see the Magna Carta here. And walked the battlements trying to envisage just how Nichola defended her castle from the enemy.
Quite easily actually. The view is awesome. On a clear day we can see Lincoln Cathedral from here – 21 miles away. And the castle is just opposite the Cathedral.
Note to Self : Build your Castle/Home up on high ! ? !
Thank you, Neil :o)
John Sullivan’s words, as delivered by Delboy, are now a huge part of our language here.
The one in the title is a personal favourite.
Going back a day – the law of SOD is still operating.
I just sent a polite snot-o-gram to an ebay seller I’ve used many times saying that I’ve not received my order. It’s 5 days late.
Ten minutes later I open the back door to hang out the washing and there is a parcel on the doorstep. MY PARCEL.
WTF? The front door was wide open so the postie snuck around the side and silently placed it there……on purpose. Because why ?
Anyhoo.
I’m in the process of drafting a Victorian reform dress in the style of the Aesthetic Movement as championed by Oscar Wilde, of all people.
The artistic, aesthetic, dress reform movement was all for beautifully draped, embellished and free clothing. A fashion anarchy against the corsets and bustles and strait-jacket-rigours of the usual Victorian clothes.
Many gift the likes of Chanel with freeing women from the shackles of whalebone and bustle and crinoline. Few know about Wilde’s contribution.
Yeah. Beam me up, Snotty indeed.
OOOps.
Throughout my life it has been said that somewhere in the deep dark past, my mother’s family had Spanish blood. Hence the dark eyes and dark hair that we both share.
I was stunned when my DNA didn’t bring up a single sniff of a Spanish gene. So I dismissed this as family mis-information.
But…..
OMG.
Via New Chronology, I ended up HERE : La història usurpadahttps://historiausurpada.blogspot.com/2020/05/the-catalans-of-gaul-expanded-to-the-british-isles-the-catuvellauni.html
My maternal family have been in Norfolk for centuries. We KNOW this via my second cousin Janet who did the whole family ancestry thing in church/parish/family/public records.
Why the excitement?
Ha. Twofold excitement.
I know a little about the History of my country. Even Roman History.
The ancient Catalans or Catalauni were one of the founding peoples of Gaul. However, in this article we will find that they were also from the British Isles. The supposed British tribe of the Catuvellauni or Catuvellans, is actually a branch of the people of the Catalauni or Catalans of Gaul that split due to the arrival of the people of the Belgians in their territory, in the area of the current Champagne (former Catalan or Catalaunian Plains).
The Catuvellauni were a Norfolk Tribe of “Ancient Brits”
Then we have the link with Norfolk and an ongoing obsession of mine (if you’ve been with me from the start, you’ll know this)
The Mabinogi.
Who’d’ve thunk, hey ?
:o)
How gorgeous.
Yes. It may seem frivolous and totally pointless but who doesn’t love a good old pointless frivol every now and again?
I LOVE French breakfasts. And a glass of Prosecco is OK too :o)
BTW : Walking in a floor length gown takes practice. Spending my life with men, being a girl in HM Forces, I’m used to matching a man’s stride. Nothing dainty and feminine in that, sadly.
A whilst back I spend a day in one of my Historical Costumes and nearly fell A over T about 42 times.
Note to Self : The word is GLIDE not STRIDE.
Tcchh.
Thank you, Taylor :o)
I spent over an hour in my local fabric shop with a new friend called Lulu.
Long story – a new 1800’s gown in the prep stage. Colour chosen (finally) deep wine red cotton.
Anyhoo and by the by. Through a different source I was recommended a book to read called Elephant’s Breath and London Smoke.
I knew immediately that this was about colour. My youngest and I painted his bedroom Elephant’s Breath.
WAY back in 2009 I wrote a post about 17th century fabric colours.
One of my first ever research projects was on 17th century costume.
I got a beautiful old, old costume book from the library and much to my disgust – I can’t remember the name of it.
Anyway – from that book I made a note of the names used for textile colours in that era.
They are so evocative and always set the imagination running.
PANSY FLOWERING; RAYFLAX BLUE; SUMMER BLUE; ROYAL BLUE; TURQUOISE; WATER COLOUR; PALE BLUE; BEAN BLUE; PASTEL;
~
~
DAWN; CORAL; PEACH BLOSSOM; PALE YELLOW; GOLDEN YELLOW; CANARY; SULPHUR ;
~
~
WILLOW GREEN; BUDDING GREEN; BRIGHT GREEN; BOTTLE GREEN; SEA GREEN; VERDIGRIS; GOSLING GREEN;
~
~
GREY; DOVE; ARGENT; PEARL GREY; SLATE, PIGEON; SILVER GREY; CRYSTALLINE;
~
~
REDDISH PURPLE;BRIGHT RED; AMARANTH; CARNATION; RUSSETT; SCARLET; OX BLOOD; ORANGE; NONAIN – ROSY WHITE.
~
~
And colours to try and get our minds around.
I’ll have a go…
I love the idea of SICK SPANIARD – a yellowy olive.
JUDAS COLOUR- Silver.
TEMPS PERDU- I see this as a pale violet.
ANGRY MONKEY- Is red brown too obvious?
APE’S LAUGH- Again, a reddy colour. But only if they were always being pedantic
RESURRECTION – Oh Gawd! A blue-grey????
KISS ME DARLING – Pale pink, maybe.
MORAL SIN – Love this. A deep, vibrant, singing red.
TRISTAMI – Sorry, can only think of pepparami here. Oops.
SCRATCH FACE – Purpley (if there’s such a word)
SMOKED OX HAM COLOUR – Pinky, purpley (if it’s not a word, it should be!)
LOVE LONGINGS – Help!
CHIMNEY SWEEP – Too obvious????
FADING FLOWER – Mmmn. Pastel. Maybe like ashes of roses.
DYING MONKEY – Black, brown….ish
MERRY WIDOW – Deep Purple – nearly black but not quite.
****
This new recommendation looks wonderful.
Have you ever read about a Victorian dress, and wondered: “What color, exactly, is heliotrope?”Did you ever read an Elizabethan novel and say: “Did anyone really wear Puke?”When Chaucer wrote: “his eyen bright citrin” – did you wonder about what color is citrin?This book will tell you about color in history – the names of colors, when they were used, how they were used, what they looked like, and where they came from. There are dye recipes, paint ingredients, poetic language and general commentary – all in the words of period writers. Along with the glossary of color names, you will learn about mourning colors, the effects of artificial light on color, advice on what colors to wear, the colors found in cosmetics and theatrical make-up, and the names of the colors of horses. You can read about symbolism in colors, heraldic colors, and complaints about the names of colors. I have studied fashion magazines, books of dye recipes, art books, painter’s manuals, mineralogy guides, tomes on color theory, metaphysical texts, poetry and fiction, but especially period dictionaries and encyclopedias. Any resource that might give a hint on what a color looked like or how it may have been used was examined, from Chaucer to Chemistry Journals. Most of the entries were printed in English, American, Canadian and Australian publications from around 1380 to 1922. Because, French was the language of fashion, many of the English terms are French words. I have tried to explain those colors, too.This dictionary endeavors to define color names in the words of the English speaking people who used those colors. It is especially aimed at women’s fashion, but artists will also find it useful. Now in its second edition, “Elephant’s Breath and London Smoke” has more than 600 new and updated entries. If you are curious about color, you will want this book.
BTW. It’s coloUr. Too many letters in the word ? ? ?
It’s been so bloody hot lately.
No. I’m not complaining. To have a proper English Summer is a blessing.
I just get so lethargic and uninterested and m’eh in the heat.
But we know have my FAVOURITE weather system.
Thunder and lightning and rain. I’ve been standing outside like a complete idiot, face upwards, enjoying the cool. Big Fat Raindrops :o)
HE derides her every single time for doing her thing but – every Saturday morning I get the same question, “What’s Rachel doing this week?”
I’m quite OK about this obsession of his with another woman.
Why?
Because it’s showing him that I am NOT the only person in the world that does these weird things. For years they were called “Jackie Fads.”
And the fact that I could teach myself how to do something, get bored with that and immediately try to learn something else was always seen (by others) as a negative.
Hey. I’m exploring me, folks. Stop with the friggin’dissing.
I love Rachel too.
So there :o)
Washing up at 7pm this morning, I do the usual and look out of the window to the back kitchen garden to see who is visiting today.
We’ve had pigeons, sparrows, tits, blackbirds, mallards, muntjac deer, pheasant, quail, owls, sparrowhawk, buzzard, partridge, RATS (!!) & rabbits galore.
This morning we had an alien enter.
About the size of a 6 month old kitten with dark brown almost black fur, cat like tail, upright ears and…..a white BANDIT mask around the eyes.
Three of us have been playing guess the alien. We tried ferret, stoat, mink, pine marten.
Nah.
It is a – – –
My brother rang me 3 days ago and left a message. Then he rang back and I answered.
He started by giving me a huge bollocking for not answering the phone!
I listened and then said…What’s wrong?
I have talked about Auntie Christine several times here over the years. She married my Dad’s younger brother, Jim. The marriage lasted 6 weeks but she has ALWAYS been a much loved family member.
Dear Christine, the wonderful Kinghorn, Fife, Scotland girl, has gone to join Jim, my Dad, my Mum, Joy….Dad and Jim’s younger sister and all the others.
Wow. It hit me hard.
Then I had this great need (once the sobbing stopped) to watch my favourite comedian.
The very best bit of this video below (in my opinion) is the quote :
P.S. Christine was a Penman. From Border Stock….a Reiver. But she fell in love with us bunch of Teuchters :o)
Flightly? Moi?
Oh yes!
The project has changed from the 16th century to the 19th century.
Because I can.
The image above is a pattern that I downloaded yesterday. No idea why, other than because I liked it.
Then I read all the pages and pages of instructions.
OMG. The lining has a boned corset that HAS TO BE MADE before the main dress. Whatever. I can do that (?!)
Today it all makes sense.
My house was built in 1839 and the vicar’s wife would have worn something very similar to this when they first moved in. The Romantic View.
Also – around the beginning of October – this place starts to get VERY COLD. Come January and we are all wearing at least 7 layers of clothes. The Practical View.
Another also – I could wear this in private here. With my leggings and thigh high thick woolly socks and possibly not go blue. Yay.
Crow’s Eye Productions is a local film company. I’ve met them. They shot scenes in this village and the lane to my house for their film about the Crowder Family and WW1 (true story.)
Pauline Loven is an amazingly talented costumier/dress-maker. She made me a 1914 skirt and I made a 1918 knitted jacket.
Keeping it local and personal for now :o)
I’ve been lucky enough to find a company in the UK that sells Dead Stock.
THIS dead stock is fabric. When a company does a run of material for the public market, and not all of that run sells, it’s bought up by others for re-sale. At much lower prices.
I have a fantasy costume that I’m dreaming of making. I have the pattern. Now with access to much cheaper luxury materials (velvets/silks/brocades)… I’ll save up and challenge myself to make an historically accurate Safavid outfit.
Hard to explain but it’s an outer robe, an inner robe and a pair of trousers – as worn by 16th century Safavid women.
The video below is BS MS history about the Safavid Empire.
Jeebs. They were Turkish and Islamic and Byzantine but the “greatest” enemies of the Ottomans. Who were Turkish. Islamic. Byzantine.
Apparently the Sunni S’hia split has always been there. Yeh. OK. Whatever.
:o)
DID YOU KNOW?
Wild rabbits Love Watermelon! Fact.
Update on the wescued wabbit. He is called Fred.
He has one ear missing but just the top bit so the important part is A.OK.
His back legs are NOT broken. It was just the shock of being attacked by our cat.
He’s parked on the sofa wrapped in MY cardigan (words have been said about that!!!) with the TV on.
Eating like a good ‘un.
Maybe he can go back to Mum tomorrow…hopefully.
Why bother?
BECAUSE… :o)
When I come across someone who CAN – it always helps me to up-my-game. To try new skills. To improve.
V. Birchwood hand sews everything, just like I do. She is also a living, breathing Cossack/Tartarian posting on youtube.
A Bashlik is on my “to-do” list as of right now :o)
It’s my kids’ Nan’s birthday today. So son rings her up to wish her best wishes…..She’s not there.
Nan is out on the town (Cardiff) all day until 5pm with the boys’ aunt.
OMG – their aunt is my traveller-in-crime!
YAY
I’m feeling like it’s my birthday too. Unbanned and actually acknowledged.
GOOD VIBES all around :o)
We watched a yt vid the other week and both drooled. It was from Ireland : Potato Cakes and Beef & Ale Stew.
Yes. I know. It’s the height of summer but…
…some days you just need to be comforted.
In Scotland they are Tattie Scones. Less dense than dumplings and absolutely bangin’
:o)
P.S. I put a tiny bottle of red wine in the stew because to use a can of Guinness in food is sacrilege here!!
P.P.S. My tatties are thicker and rounder and cut out with a fluted pastry cutter. Ding Dong.
P.P.P.S. Scone as in ‘s’gone. Not sc-oh-ne. In my opinion.
£1500 every month for the right to live in my falling down home.
I’ve done my sentence but committed no crime
YAY!
And bad mistakes. I’ve made a few.
Thank you for reminding me y’all.
Aha.
Did you think I’d do the other song?
Always ready for Freddie :o)
Or Johnny Rotten – God Save the Queen…Fascist Regime
I do it to myself every single day!
What’s for tea, Mother?
Dunno. What do you want?
Youngest spent most of his early/mid 20’s in the Middle East and has exotic food tastes. Brunch was raw carrot sticks and humus.
I just happened to mention Mulligatawny soup – Heinz cans are your Grandad’s fave meal ever.
I had to explain what it was and at the word “curry” he shouted – I’ll have THAT. With cheese on toast.
Weirdo!
When his Dad and I were in Karachi we had freshly made Mulligatawny. OMG. To die for.
I’m not a fan of the Heinz kind so I’ve promised to make my own for all of us….Eeeek.
Some days I can be very stupid. Sigh.
:o)
Research Recipe.
I’ve not been on Twatter since 2019.
That was my profile statement – followed by I Love & I Am Loved
This can be summed up in one of my fave songs….
Lesley – Teenager
Lesley – a wee bit older but still bloody wonderful :o)
Of all the awful stunts that’ve been pulled on us in the last two years – this one hurt me most.
Not only was international travel Banned but travel from here to our next door neighbour. From mother/father to child. Between siblings and friends and the local surgery/hospital/cemetery/shop/pub/church et al.
Games Without Frontiers?
War without tears?
OMG. In my dreams of my past lives….. I WAS married to Peter Gabriel.
Shit. Did I type that out loud?
:ooops)
We stayed here a few times. It’s in Old Dubai and away from the tourist centre.
After a totally exhausting day doing business, me, he, youngest son and his sister (who also worked for us) would meet in the Chelsea Bar of an evening to mull over everything.
ShhShush. One of the barmaids fell head over heels for son. But he was spoken for.
Side Note : We’d always DESCEND into a Tall Story telling competition. Tut!
Anyway and by the by…..
The Sheraton Creek is right by where Michael Palin caught his dhow from Dubai to Mumbai.
We used to watch the boats on the water, underneath the stars.
On the 30th of July.
I tried to explain to Himself what Steampunk was. All I could say was …eerrr…a bit goth, a bit, sci-fi, a bit strange and then stuff about people making their own weird and wonderful costumes and playing a very theatrical role.
Oh. A lot like you, then – he commented
!
Yeah – a bit housemaid come peasant farmer, I am.
Anyway. Moving on. Bernadette is much better at the “explain” bit than I am.
Something I’m an expert at IRL but in dressmaking….eeek.
Madeleine Vionnet mastered the art of the BIAS CUT.
The bias cut is when you cut out fabric at a 45 degree angle to “the grainline.”
What is the grainline? Look it up.
My latest sewing project is a bastard because the width is too narrow and I may have to go against the grain.
A project for another day. I’m having an anxious day today and the brain cell is a bit wobbly :o(
LOVE, Love, love Vionnet !
The Once & Future King.
OK. Neil and I may disagree on timelines…not so bad.
And I’ll not rant (again) about how King Arthur is just a Paper Twin of Christ. Always the 12 + 1 ?
My BFF lives a hop away from Bamburgh Castle. It’s a truly haunting and stunning place. I’ve stood standing on the beach, in gale forces winds, and just stared at it.
BTW : The people who live here are as close to Scottish as an Englisher can be :o)