Ok, so today has been Tuesday. All day, or so I am led to believe.
In my efforts to get back to normal, I got up this morning and ran. Too late to meet old Jack and his dog Rosie, however. As I approached the cricket club, I could see his car just setting off. Clearly he had already walked the dog, or dogs, and was off home for a cup of coffee and hot buttered crumpets, his usual post dog-walking breakfast. If I want to catch up with him, I must not snooze my alarm when it rings but leap out of bed immediately, don my running gear and set off. But the bed is so inviting first thing in the morning! Must try harder!
On the positive side, I did manage to run once again. That's three days now. Getting back to normal!
Late in the morning I caught the bus to Manchester, without any untoward incidents. No weirdos on either bus or tram today. In the Italian class we have been listening to songs from the time of Mussolini. Would-be anthems and marching songs, full of martial language and with a good rhythm to get you parading down the road. Our teacher told us of her horror as a child when she finally realised what was meant by the songs she had been chanting away merrily, with garbled lyrics, as a smaller child. One of my companions commented afterwards that perhaps our teacher has chosen to have us study popular music from Italy's past so that she could lay a few ghosts of her own. Maybe so!
After the class I did not go straight home, as I usually do, but indulged myself with a buttered scone and a cup of coffee in Waterstone's cafe before going to Stalybridge for the monthly poetry group meeting. It still feels odd having a cafe in a bookshop but I thoroughly approve of the idea. What could be more civilised than looking at a book you are thinking of purchasing and having refreshments of some kind at the same time? It's a lovely place to meet friends as well.
A bit of spare time killed in a pleasant manner, I caught the train to Stalybridge and met up with the poets of the Stanza group. We were supposed to be anonymously criticising each others' poems. These had all been submitted to the organiser and sent in an email to all who sent a poem. Mine had been accidentally missed off the list. Apologies from the organiser. So it goes. We had an interesting evening anyway.
So that's Tuesday over with. We are crossing our fingers that the promised snow does not arrive tomorrow, especially as I plan once again to go to the market in the morning. Mind you my American friend has been posting photos on Facebook of the mounds of snow, at least 15 inches deep, in her garden.
How can I whinge about the weather after that?
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Hello Anthea,
ReplyDeleteA little stream of consciousness today. Catching up on yesterday's post, I have to remark that whilst I did not have the benefit of "domestic science " during my school days, I was expected to watch and learn at the elbows of my parents in all kinds of things. Thus, hours were spent standing around handing tools to my father as he build furniture &/orgarden walls etc. & preparing the ingredients for meals with my mother. Pretty much the way children learned for centuries.Like many of my generation, I can/could turn my hand to most things. It was a can so attitude.
A couple of generations ago, political correctness frowned on such activities & parents were deemed not to be the primary educators of their children. As a consequence, we have had 50 years of mothers & fathers who are unable to look after themselves, let alone their sprogs.
Ready prepared meals are all they know. Cooking beef brisket until it melts in the mouth, creating Afelia, a traditional Cypriot dish of pork braised in red wine & bursting in flavour, making liver & bacon Pâté, these delicacies are beyond the abilities of so many who are second & third generation unemployed.
My three sons have been brought up to be good at keeping the house clean, tidy & operationally maintained. Every challenge is an opportunity to learn. Being practical is essential, yet just about the only items deemed newsworthy by the dysgenic scribblers in the Daily Mail are the antics of Z list "celebs".
I dread to think how bored I would have been without the Internet. All my interests are catered for.
http://jstarboat.blogspot.co.uk/2015/01/port-hand-side-plank-starting-to-go.html?showComment=1422466344059#c1570200365592381179
http://www.isengard.co.uk/
http://wattsupwiththat.com/
http://phenomena.nationalgeographic.com/blog/the-loom/
https://stevengoddard.wordpress.com/
http://bishophill.squarespace.com/
http://iceagenow.info/
http://diogenes-honest-politician.blogspot.co.uk/
http://www.disused-stations.org.uk/sites.shtml
You name it. I'll look at it.
All the best,
Perry
I wish there were an edit function. Too many mistakes today.
ReplyDeletePerry
Sorry. However, i only picked up on two when i edited it just now. I am English and so spell words like realise and recognise with ise not ize!
ReplyDelete