Coincidences!

Yesterday I read Arctic Fox's blog post about his win on premium bonds, the government-issued savings scheme. I commented saying I'd had some but had never won anything.

This morning Husband, while going through drawers looking for any euros we might have lying around ready for our Italian trip, came across a plastic folder that contained - you've guessed it: premium bonds. Coincidence 1.

This morning the BBC website had an article about the government sitting on £100m of unclaimed premium bond prize money. Coincidence 2.

Husband checked ours: we still haven't won anything. That's where the coincidences stop.

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Back in May I ordered a belated birthday present for Nuora (daughter-in-law in Italian), a sewing kit from Wattle and Loop, an Australian company. I'd ordered from them before and they were very good and fast, as they were this time. The problem arose when the package landed in Italy. 

All trace of it seemed to disappear and when I contacted the company we eventually gave up and agreed on a refund rather than trying again. Australia to Italy was perhaps a bit optimistic!

Yesterday Nuora received the parcel! Plus a £3 customs charge.

I contacted the company to tell them it had turned up and offered to repay them, thinking they'd say, "No, it's fine." They didn't. They said, "Thank you for offering, you can pay here."

* * * * *

May your today be as chilled as this meerkat - and no, he's not dead even though others kept running over him. He's just enjoying his relaxation.

Charlie's dead

Boud, God's Squad is a Christian motorbiker club, founded in Australia by John Smith. 

* * * * *

I've just finished reading Homecoming by Kate Morton. I almost gave up initially as it was a bit slow but I'm so glad I didn't as it built to a fascinating ending. A mother and three children are found dead - "as if they were sleeping" - by a waterhole in south Australia on Christmas Eve 1959. A fourth child, a young baby, is missing, assumed stolen away by wild dogs. Investigations conclude that the mother committed suicide/murder.

In 1918 a young journalist is called home from London as her grandmother in Australia has fallen and is in hospital. From there we eventually find out the true story behind the strange deaths. One aspect is well-signposted but the other details left me gasping. 

* * * * *

The knickers I am wearing today have lace around the top - except they're old and it's coming away. So I told myself I would definitely throw them away when I've worn them. But then my head said, "You can't throw away dirty knickers!"

But if I wash them I know I'll end up putting them back in my drawer and wearing them again. 

I have just put a pair of (dirty) holey socks in the bin but that's different.

* * * * *

According to Duolingo, "Does dim pannas yn uffern," meaning, "There are no parsnips in hell. 

* * * * *

In the church kitchen on Sunday - I'd offered to help make teas and coffees - I noticed my fellow helper's slip was showing. I waved my finger and said, "What am I supposed to say? It's something about Charlie."

My friend looked at me, bemused. 

This morning I remembered the phrase I was looking for: Charlie's dead!

Does anyone else remember the phrase? Does anyone else still wear a petticoat?

According to t'internet it's been in use since at least the 1950s, although one explanation goes back a bit further in time. When King Charles 1 was executed Royalist supporting women were not able to go openly into mourning so they would let their petticoat show beneath their skirt as a token gesture. And, again according to t'internet, in Derby they would say, "Your father loves you better than your mother." Which is even less explicable.

* * * * *

Last night and this morning I've been thinking that there are lots of places I 'belong' but I never feel fully belonging. I wonder if this sense of not quite included is because I always had a feeling of not quite belonging as a child growing up in an extended family.

Cakes and more cakes

A busy week culminating in a street party at Zac's to commemorate the 30th anniversary of God's Squad UK chapter, and, more particularly, Sean's 30 year commitment. 

Bikers from many different clubs - including veterans and Hells Angels - attended and God Squadders came from Australia, New Zealand, and Ireland - as well as England.

Guests from Ireland and England

Jayne, Sean's wife, with a posy of flowers from Daughter's garden

The God Squad UK chapter gave Sean a special gift: a crook made by Matt. In his role in God Squad Sean has pastored and shepherded many so it was an appropriate choice. Matt deliberately made a simple crook with a horn handle, much as the shepherd boy, David, would have had..

I seem to have spent the last week either baking for or cleaning in Zac's so I'm planning a nice relaxing week ahead.

The creature from the brown lagoon

A cooler, cloudy morning so I decided to attack the bamboo again. Merrily digging I came across this root.

It doesn't look like a bamboo root. On the other hand it doesn't look like a rose root either. For a start, this rose is only a couple of years old; it seems unlikely that it would have grown such a huge root in that time. Digging down, the root appears to go underneath the rose so I think rather than try to find its beginning or end, and disturb the rose, I'll just cut it off near the base.

And hope it isn't a creature from the depths of the earth that was planning on taking over the world. I wouldn't want to enrage something like that.

It's getting bad

Fed off of trying to get phone and computer to talk to each other I went into the garden planning to relax and read. Instead I began gardening! Pruning to be accurate. 

I saw a clip on Facebook about pruning salvias so I set to. The only problem is that I only vaguely remember what the clip said. Something about cutting some short and some longer. So that's what I did. And I thought if it could be applied to salvias it could be applied to geranium and lavender as well.

I saw another FB clip about taking a hydrangea cutting. Couldn't quite remember that either but took a cutting anyway.

* * * * *

The fitness class I attend on Tuesday mornings had extra funding and has employed a proper professional trainer to do four sessions over summer. I went last night. He began with a warm-up. It was just like this but with arms outstretched holding a 3kg weight.

I was ready to go home after this. But actually nothing else was as bad.

* * * * *

This year is the 30th anniversary of the UK chapter of God Squad. Sean, who leads Zac's, was one of the founding members - and is now International President - so on Sunday there's a big biker celebration happening at Zac's.

How can that be, you say, when Zac's is still being refurbished? Well, the building work is done and much of the painting, however, this was the sight that greeted me when I turned up this morning.

I confess to giving a little shriek of horror. Because of holidays I've not been in for a while so had assumed it was much further on. Stu assures me that it is all superficial. Just needs putting away. And cleaning.

So this morning I took on the job of cleaning the counter and behind, the walls, window, and underneath.

While perched on a ladder cleaning this memorial to Baz a bit of it fell off. I closed my eyes, convinced I'd look down and see bits of Baz all over the floor. Fortunately it was just the little wooden frame bit from the other end of the bullet that had fallen.

I also offered to make a celebration cake. I was a bit late doing it as I hadn't thought about it until someone mentioned how expensive it was from a cake shop. So it's missed out on the regular dousing with brandy, which is probably just as well as there could be some alcoholics in remission attending. It hasn't actually got brandy in it either; I only had whisky and Baileys so had to make do with that. I figured that small amount would be okay as there wouldn't be much alcohol left after baking.

Waiting to be iced

What does a woodchuck chuck?

Husband wakes in the middle of the night. He thinks about natural population control and tries to remember the equation involving food, bunnies, and foxes. Something about as one increases the other increases until something happens and all decrease again. Or something like that.*

I wake in the night and try to remember what a woodchuck would chuck if it could chuck it. And how many. 

We have an almost hidden hydrangea bush in the garden that's been there longer than we have I think. For the first time yesterday I picked some of the glorious blooms for the house.

* Lotka-Volterra equation

p' = k1*p - c*p*q

q' = -k2*q + d*p*q

Unlimited food = bunny pop grows = more meetings between bunnies and foxes = foxes eat bunnies = fox pop grows = eat more bunnies = bunny numbers decrease = fox numbers decrease.

Sketching, Japanese, and graves

In quiet moments GrandDaughter2 and I took to sketching. These sketches may be bad but they're not as bad as my snooker-playing.

I found the sea urchin skeleton on my way out to the sea with Louie. It took me three-quarters of my walk there and back to remember what it was called. It was also bigger when I found it.

Spotted the caterpillar and snail on a strand of marram grass.

* * * * *

One day we visited The Japanese Garden. On entering I was a bit unimpressed as it didn't look very spectacular or colourful - and the lady on the gate was grumpy - but it had a very calming and peaceful atmosphere. Another day, without children, I could have sat and pondered and I'm not one for sitting and pondering as a rule. It just felt like that.

We followed that up with a cream tea and then popped into the local churchyard, as you do.

Nine men (and a dog maybe?) froze to death at sea.

Here lye the Body of Margery the Wife of Henry Cayzer of this Parish, Yeoman: who was Buried Janry the 5th Anno Dom. 1748. Aged 71

Mourn not for me,

my Children Dear. I am not 

dead but sleeping here.

my Debt is paid,

my Grave you see

prepare your selves 

to follow me.

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And finally, a bit of Cornish to end on.

Just to prove it

In the sea pool at Trevone.

Reliving my youth.