Capture the storm

Despite sitting in the dark in my back garden until 12.45 am last night/this morning trying to capture the spectacular electrical storm with my camera (and generally failing to get any lightening at all), I was up early this morning getting on with the domestic chores whilst dodging the showers putting bird seed out and feeding the fish in the ponds. I noticed this morning that the honeysuckle is just about ready to flower and it gives a gorgeous scent after dusk. It goes well with the delightfully blue ceanothus which is just about finishing its flowering for this spring.

It did dawn on me whilst typing this that I was actually sat under a tree whilst trying to take storm pictures which is not the most intelligent thing to do.

Saturday was a day and evening out in the beautiful countryside in Derbyshire around Buxton at a niece's wedding. Lucy and Alan were married at a lovely Victorian hall in the middle of nowhere, accessible by way of a two mile single track road, up hill and down dale. There was nowhere to stop and take a photograph I'm afraid, but the scenery was just gorgeous. The wedding itself was just marvellous, a simple civil ceremony readings from family and some Buddhist friends (the groom is a practising Buddhist) followed by a wedding breakfast in a marquee and fun speeches and many surprises for the startled guests.

Indeed, the head waiter and one of the waitresses, who were present throughout the whole reception bit doing their serving etc., were not what they seemed.

After about an hour, the head waiter, in a thick Italian accent, announced that the waitress Michelle was going back to France and it was her last day and the bride and groom had allowed her to sing a song of farewell to the assembled guests. Indeed the waitress sang the most beautiful operatic aria to bring tears to the eyes and then the head waiter rendered a stunningly sung operatic song and four or five songs later including duets, it became clear they were professional operatic singers who feature regularly in the West End. In fact the deception was rumbled when the Italian waiter announced at the end he was from Australia and the waitress was from Birmingham. Perfect.

Sat Navs are great aren't they? I usually have 'fastest route' programmed into the machine, but our way home last night in the dusk took us through leafy lanes and eventually through Sheffield city centre in order to get us back onto the motorway. I think the woman in the sat nav must have had too much of the pink champagne at the wedding.

Thanks to Julie's Notebook blog for the sat nav one-liner puns, suitable for your five year olds.

How did the little fish find its way across the big, wide ocean?
He used his sprat-nav!
How did Dracula find his way about in the dark, dark nights of Transylvania?
With his Bat-nav of course!
And those irritating, small winged insects use?
Gnat-nav!
And how does the custard-pie always get its man straight in the face?
Splat-nav!
And what did Aladdin have on his magic carpet?
Mat-nav!
How do marsupials find their way in the Australian outback?
Wombat-nav!

Which leads us on to…
Soldiers?
Combat-nav!
Civil Servants?
Bureaucrat-nav!
The Ambassador?
Diplomat-nav!
Spoiled child?
Brat-nav!
A fool?
Prat-nav!
Electric guitar player?
Strat-nav!

Enjoy the rest of your weekend.

Chat soon

ta-ra

Yes dear, whatever you say dear...

What a glorious if somewhat 'brass monkey' day! Freezing cold, clear bright sunny day and a fresh dusting of snow. My friend Barry who lives in Hornsea, on the East Yorkshire coast reports three inches of fresh laying snow this morning.

In an earlier blog in October I told the lamentable tale of Citibank and their dreadful customer focus in taking two hours to not answer the phone when I was trying to activate the account and deposit a few quid in what was a new account I had previously just opened on line. After I eventually activated it after yet another interminable wait listening to recorded messages about how important the call was, I couldn't access the account on line. I rang the helpline and a very patient woman from the other side of the world tried to get me into my own account and couldn't explain why she couldn't. A new PIN was ordered to hopefully 'reset the system' and I would have no problem. Guess what? The PIN duly arrived and I still can't get into the system to access or work with my cash.

I have written a letter this morning using old fashioned method of snail mail to cancel the account and transfer the money to my normal bank account which I have been using on-line for years without a hitch. It's only a relatively small amount of cash, but I would have used the account for what little savings I make because the interest rate is good.

I was going to go into the garden today to do some pruning ready for the spring, but the frost and snow has stopped me doing that although I have got the bug to get out and get it done because some bits and pieces have started to arrive from plants and stuff I've ordered on line for the summer. A small bay tree has come and it's in the conservatory waiting for the worst of the frosty weather to go before I can put it out in a sheltered spot. My last one died as it reached about three feet tall, so I hope to have better luck with this good looking little specimen.

The problem living 'up north' is that stuff that isn't fully hardy can't be risked outdoors always unless it's really well sheltered. My trouble this year is that I'm replacing bedding plants which I put in the borders and tubs with shrubs because of the squirrels digging everything up so choosing stuff that is interesting and has colour has not been easy. J Parker's catalogue and Sutton's seed catalogue have been very useful in planning and I've spotted some interesting plants for the shady spots I need to fill as well some good advice in the BBC Gardeners World magazine.

I haven't told her indoors what it's cost! and I still need to source some suitable soil to replace the old multi-purpose compost I normally use in the tubs. I have relented and I'm going to have some flowers in baskets hanging from brackets on the walls, so at least I'll have a few bright colours and I've gone for a pink collection of flowers and a red collection.

I hope you enjoy the weekend, my cold is still hanging on so I may just use the excuse for taking it easy for the next couple of days. A trip to the council tip this morning was partly successful except they will not take shredded paper into the paper bin and they insist in me putting it in the general waste hopper that is not recycled - WHAT'S THE POINT!

I thought I would muse about marriage and relationships again but don't blame me... perhaps this one is more biased toward us guys this time (I do try to be balanced and neutral but it's sooooo hard) it's the way it is - honest guv!

BATHROOMS
A man has six items in his bathroom: toothbrush and toothpaste, shaving cream, razor, a bar of soap, and a towel from M&S.
The average number of items in the typical woman's bathroom is 337 (according to a daily newspaper but then it does have a red top!)
A man would not be able to identify more than 20 of these items.

ARGUMENTS
A woman has the last word in any argument.
Anything a man says after that is the beginning of a new argument.

FUTURE
A woman worries about the future until she gets a husband.
A man never worries about the future until he gets a wife.

SUCCESS
A successful man is one who makes more money than his wife can spend.
A successful woman is one who can find such a man.

MARRIAGE
A woman marries a man expecting he will change, but he doesn't.
A man marries a woman expecting that she won't change, but she does.

NATURAL
Men wake up as good-looking as they went to bed.
Women somehow deteriorate during the night.

OFFSPRING
Ah, children. A woman knows all about her children. She knows about dentist appointments and romances, best friends, favourite foods, secret fears and hopes and dreams.
A man is vaguely aware of some short people living in the house.

THOUGHT FOR THE DAY
A married man should forget his mistakes.
There's no use in two people remembering the same thing.

Chat soon

Ta-ra

Love and Marriage, goes together like... erm...

I think I've read it all now. Somalian man Ahmed Muhamed Dore has decided to marry a woman from the same village as him, 17 year old Safia Abdulleh. Awwww ain't love grand; Well to be precise, great great grand because Mr Dore is 112 years old and dear little Safia is as old as his great-great-grand children.

His oldest child is 80 years old and he has 114 children, grandchildren etc., and is looking to have more kids. Having been married five times already, the BBC reported Mr Dore saying, "I didn't force her, but used my experience to convince her of my love; and then we agreed to marry." In a briefer, less lyrical response the bride issued a statement through her family which said the bride is "...happy with her new husband."

"Today God helped me realise my dream," Mr Dore said, after the wedding in the region of Galguduud, wrote the BBC. I bet he did!

It sort of makes you shiver thinking about it doesn't it?

This reminds me of another story recently, also reported on the Beeb: A 107-year-old Malaysian woman has said she wants to get married again, for the 23rd time, as she fears her husband wants to leave her, says a report. When Wook Kundor married four years ago to a man 70 years her junior their wedding photos made regional media. But now she fears her husband will not return home after completing treatment for drug addiction in Kuala Lumpur

Perhaps there's a clue there: drug addiction?

I thought we'd have a look at men and women again*, a recurring theme throughout this blog with a warning of a slightly adult theme, but then you were never that sensitive about such things were you?

Men

Men are like blenders - you need one, but you're not quite sure why;
Men are like cement - after getting laid, they take ages to get hard;
Men are like commercials - you can't believe anything they say;
Men are like horoscopes - they always tell you what to do and are almost always wrong;
Men are like snow storms - you never know when they're coming, how many inches you'll get or how long it'll last.

Women

It's great to be a woman because...

You're not expected to know how cars work;
You can give 'the look' which makes any man cower in a corner;
You get gifts all the time because men mess up so often;
You don't have to understand the offside rule;
PMT is a legal defence to murder;
You wee sitting down, so it's easier to pass out on the toilet when drunk.

Chat soon

Ta-ra.
Thanks to Geoff Tibballs

Pearl? Who's Pearl?

Above, the Chinese character for love consisting of a heart (middle) inside 'accept,' 'feel,' or 'perceive,' which shows a graceful emotion.
Courtesy Wikipedia

Tueday 23rd June is my 30th Wedding Anniversary. I can just think of all the music hall jokes coming out, "I remember it like it was yesterday, and that was a bad day too!" "If I'd done her in thirty years ago, I'd have been out ten years ago," "I take my wife everywhere but she keeps finding her way back," "My wife made me join a bridge club. I jump off next Tuesday!"and so on and so forth.

"I am," is said to be the shortest sentence in the English language. "I do" is the longest.

Our Pearl Anniversary (I don't feel old enough for Pearl - a vision of old dears with pearl necklaces springs to mind) brings around thoughts of our thirty years together: wondering where the next penny was coming from; how do we pay for the petrol to get us to work; can't afford to mend the leaky ceiling; new house, not enough cash to decorate and live! What I've described is mainly finance and making ends meet. There was also not talking to each other, arguing, (we've never fought) and annoying habits. There are of course positives like it's all been worth it, three great kids, decent house, reasonable car, still working hard and our good health. Can't complain really.

But what about our relationship? It's been hard work but we're still very much together despite having different interests and differing beliefs. I can't define love - I've tried, even debated it among friends and I have no idea what it is. Try looking for 'love' in Wikipedia - full of gobbledegook. There is no chemical formula, no text book which gives chapter and verse how one should feel and what you should be doing to maintain it. My guess is that it's an enigma. We're not supposed to know what it is save to say that it's about feeling different I suppose about one person. Something more 'special,' getting to know someone very well and learning to laugh and cry together. Sharing, learning, using experience to get you through bad times and knowing there is light at the end of the tunnel to bring you both through. Sounds like a text book explanation? A working living partnership, a close team perhaps; I give up.

There's no formula for success (or failure for that matter) to marriage - 75% of it is luck, 20% of it is good judgement and the last five percent is down to the unknown factors such as intuition and turning left instead of right, making the call instead of prevarication and having that little bit of courage when needed to face your fears together. It's also about individual partners being tough enough to make bold decisions when needed for both of you and the other accepting in good grace and often, I suspect with great relief.

That's not scientific at all - just gut feeling - that word 'feeling' again and perhaps that's the answer. Love is a personal feeling that the individual gets that affects us all very differently, and where does that come from? Goodness knows, but thank God for it - quite a creation.

So, here's to the next thirty years (at least). Cheers!

Today's story has a marital theme. A young couple who were having a rocky time went to see a counsellor. The male counsellor listened to the wife first who was complaining about her husband neglecting her. She moaned, "We've only been married two years, but he never takes me anywhere, he never shows affection or shows any interest in me, it's as if he was bored with me already."

The husband simply shrugged his shoulders and said nothing. The counsellor went over to the wife and kissed her passionately. As the wife slumped back into her chair amazed and in shock the counsellor said to the husband, "Your wife needs that at least twice a week."

The husband replied, "Well, I can get her here Tuesdays and Thursdays."

Chat soon

Ta-ra!