I'm Real ! Blogger Agrees At Last

A bird's nest, washed out of Smitonius's hedge during a huge rainstorm this week, eggs and all. She was amused to see , woven into the nest, a pink ribbon pinched from a little bag she'd been going to put a jewellery order in.

 I've spent idiotic amounts of time trying to sign into my Blogger account for the last couple of weeks and had virtually given up, almost convinced that I didn't actually exist . An impression re-enforced at the hospital this week, when the young nurse tried to take a blood sample from my arm and failed three times. She rushed off to enlist the help of a colleague and I was left, wondering whether I was empty... Luckily her more experienced colleague managed to get enough to prove that I wasn't.

 Anyway… now I've been graciously reinstated , I can't immediately think of anything at all.   Perhaps binge-watching Nailed It ! on Netflix hasn't helped. Perhaps it was the heatwave that has been driving all western Europe to gay abandon  and to cavort in fountains … except that we here on Holland's north coast haven't been any hotter than normal, the heatwave missing us altogether.

 Never mind, it's pleasantly warm today and I've finally made myself a watermelon smoothie and a tortilla de patatas to celebrate. So now all that remains to do is to watch the boats on the river, read yet another whodunnit and admire my growing collection of lavender and its clouds of bumble bees.  I'll see if tomorrow my brain can dredge up anything slightly more interesting to post...

Breaking Out ...

It took me all week not to do that jigsaw … exhausting! It's firmly back in its box and will be going back to the recycling center next time I go. Still, it did force me out of the door and onto a train for which I'm grateful. Just a dash to Groningen, since I'd left it to mid-morning,  but I had enough time for lunch and a wander. I found a rather fine poster for a vintage shop and must go back some time  when it's open.
                                                                                       

 

By the market, my favourite climbing rose was having a good day … had I left it a couple of days later it would have been reduced to a couple of twigs; one storm after another this week has battered everything flat.

As always I dropped into the North African shop on the way back to the train and was fascinated to overhear a discussion between the owner and a possible buyer. Purchaser was wondering if he could redesign the front to make more sales room; 'modernise it all a bit'. He was told that the shop front's protected , "because it's been like this for the last twenty years." Considering the church round the back is at least a couple of hundred year old, the man looked a trifle puzzled but , of course, the street just used to be an alleyway.  Anyway, I realised then just how long I've lived here; I watched the facade being done. When we first came it was the only place to buy olives, proper tomatoes, good lentils and feta and, home-sick as I was, it was a lifeline. It's funny to look back and think that the only way to get chorizo was to go to Amsterdam! And Manchego cheese is still really only to be found at Christmas.

It's impossible to think of life  now without these things. I settled down the end but have always enjoyed trips to Groningen … in fact, I've just talked myself into another tomorrow. Lots of birthdays next week and presents to be found….

Still Shoeless, of Course

But I have got another Pyrex dish, seven more secondhand detective books and two jigsaws. In my defence I should say that I had taken five cookery books and a raincoat to  the charity shop when I went... as Kondo-ish as I'm likely to get.

 One of the puzzles is guaranteed to send me boss-eyed; by Tuesday I'll be seeing little red triangles on everything. Charity shop jigsaws only come in two kinds..."Views" like German Castles, Greek Temples or Shakespeare's Birthplace … or "Busy" like Biscuits, Fish Scales or Ferns. Well, this one is a Mayan mother with her baby, wrapped in a blanket, mostly blanket. Endless stripes and a straw hat. I think it's supposed to be soothing … we'll see. Anyway, I've got a big jar of olives and a chicken roasting in the oven. So happy me.

Boats chugging up and down the river. A large, lurid pink Geranium called Marjorie, a big bag of Minneolas and Summer's beginning.

Now the Keep fit group has shrunk for the Summer, the local paper is the source of all gossip again. It's funny how much has changed in the last few years. These days the mayor seems to attend endless 100th Birthday parties and Golden Wedding Anniversaries but a couple of weeks ago he outdid himself. A local couple celebrated their Platinum Anniversary and her 108 year-old father was there to raise his glass to them, too. My youngest aunt, who's going to be 80 next week, seems positively frisky in comparison … mind you, she and her husband still go on hiking holidays.  Don't think I've ever hiked …..

The Rain's An Hour Late...

Ten past five and it suddenly pours with rain for six minutes … Sitting comfortably on the sofa with some coffee, I'm not unduly bothered but do wonder if it's a sign of things to come.  I check the online edition of the Guardian again and it quite definitely says that it was going to rain here at four. Where will it end? And then it dawns on me... I'm not going ga-ga. I've been taken prisoner by the web.

Fortunately, after a couple of weeks of feeling like death after a bad reaction to some pills, I'm feeling almost human again and can put the laptop down and join the real world again. Perhaps plan a day out. An hour or two on the train, a good lunch and buying some new shoes will be quite exciting enough to start with … and I'll throw caution to the winds, not checking the weather before I go.

Everything...

Yesterday had everything …

An elephant dressed in Kevlar and lace, a quickstep with a terrier, a lead, his owner and her rollator ( it became rather macrame-like till we could all realign ourselves ), coffee with Shakespeare's Wife on the train, the chance to play with a four year-old and a silver foot ball and to top it all, a magic cookery book…

Or maybe, had the sun not been shining, I would just have written that the Groninger Museum had decided to stage an exhibition of everything animal-related hidden in their vaults, including the life-size elephant, a dragon and a conveyor belt. That the terrier had wound himself so successfully round the rollator's wheels that his owner was stranded between me and the bus and it seemed rude to shove her aside rather than help. That Germaine Greer's book, grabbed from the pile by my bed, was entertaining with breakfast on the train. Or that waiting in a draughty bus station, the little boy was having a wonderful time shooting penalties with a tiny football made by his big brother out of rolled-up silver paper from a few chocolate bars.

And the cookbook? My favourite secondhand bookshop had it in their 50 cent box, obviously unaware of the magic recipe inside … Above a yellowing early '60s illustration of something orange-ish, it promised everyone's warming favourite, Tomato Soup.  The list of ingredients is economical in the extreme: 1 litre of cold water, 5 tomatoes, 2 cloves. And the method? Boil for 35 minutes. Season if necessary.  Yum!

Plumper

When you're asked what you did at the weekend and you have to admit to going to a lecture on how to wean your pet onto a vegetarian diet, you'll get funny looks.When you do, just smile in return and change the subject. Don't tell them that you'd only been siezing the chance to sit down for a few minutes.

 In fact the whole thing was rather accidental. I had a free train ticket to use up … it hasn't been the weather to go anywhere recently … and somehow Veggie World, a vegan and vegetarian festival seemed to offer an interesting afternoon out and the chance of endless, interesting nibbles.

 I tried everything from non-dairy grated "Parmesan" non-cheese ( really non-nice!) to nuggets made from beans, quinoa and an alarming amount of chili ( not for children, then ), lactose free yoghurt, a gluten-free vegan lasagne (disappointing) and mountains of hummus and vegan mayonnaise, even an everything-but-sugar-free Caesar salad dressing which rather oddly seemed to glow in the dark.

 All the cakes, biscuits and pies were very nice as were all the juices and soups. All the teeshirts, posters and cookery books were beautifully designed and everyone was cheerful and obviously well fed.

I'm slightly reassured that Small Grandson who, at seven, seems to have already decided not to eat meat won't expire but, though I've cut down on the amount of meat I eat, I'm not ready to join him. When someone makes some really convincing bacon, I might think again. But I can certainly recommend it as an afternoon out.

Thought For Today:

      "Life is a near-death experience. Stumble around in giddy gratitude while you still can''  

This quote from Jen Sincero popped up in a book by Lisa Genova today and I thought I'd share it with you. I usually avoid all these homilies like the plague and don't have embroidered cushions exhorting my guests to count their blessings dotted about but this appealed because it describes this week perfectly.

 The sun shone, the birds sang and all the early bulbs are flowering. Sitting outside Starbuck's in the sun, hearing about Friend's homework and her teaching practice with young teens, I gave thanks for being old enough to retire.

There are things about retirement I don't much like. It can be very quiet at times and you miss the mid-morning gossip, but I don't miss the endless meetings about whether we should insist on every child only bringing fruit for snacks or allowing bread and butter as well or just  not having any rules at all and running the risk of biscuits or croissants. The political correctness got a bit wearing and, in fact, the one boy who I saw helping his mother last Christmas in the supermarket had invariably had an iced bun in his snack box when he was three. Rules per se  don't bring out the best in people and the average pre-schooler's morning doesn't normally revolve round having a banana or carrot sticks. I expect this lad was carrying four shopping bags and herding his mum to the bus stop out of affection.

But retirement does have its advantages … I find I quite like life on the wild side. I like being free to do what I please a lot of the time. I might well go in for some giddy gratitude tomorrow ...