We have all grown used to the fact that there is some sort of big brother watching us, listening in to our conversations, peeking at our emails. But why is Facebook sending me loads of stuff about quilting? Yes, I have bought packs of fabric scraps for a dinosaur appliqué project I have ongoing but I’ve paid cash for those so there’s no link via my bank cards. The only possibility I can think of is a search I did to find out about a company called Blue Frog Embroidery. A nodding acquaintance and I chatted about it when we saw their van parked near my house and, intrigued by the name , wondered here they are based. Somewhere in Yorkshire is the answer. We chatted and discovered we both do “crafty” stuff like knitting and sewing and embroidery.
I ran into her and her ancient dog again this morning and we swopped notes on our investigation into Blue Frog. She expressed her disappointment that the company might say they do embroidery but in fact produce denim jackets and other such garments or bags with machine-embroidered designs on them. “Not really embroidery!”, she harrumphed. But we still liked the company name: Blue Frog.
I do like creative names for businesses. As a rule it’s hairdressers who come up with the best; “Curling me softly” is my favourite. Chippies do quite well too; one of our local mobile chippies is Elvis-themed and calls itself “Cod in Trap”. Another van we see parked around here is Woolyknit, belonging to a company - selling, yes, yarn and other bits of haberdashery - based in nearby Diggle in what used to be a woollen mill, appropriately enough.
The other thing I want to know about social media is why I am getting Snoopy and Peanuts cartoons in Italian. It’s quite entertaining and is probably good for Italian but it’s a bit of a surprise. Again, I suspect that Big Brother is keeping an eye on my activity and knows I have Italian friends and correspond with them in Italian as well as English.
Thinking of things Italian, I read this morning that the bear I wrote about recently who killed a jogger in northern Italy has been captured and taken to an enclosure in a wildlife park. Some people are insisting she should be put down but animal rights activists have demonstrated against it. After all she was only doing what bears might well be expected to do.
Since Christmas we have been trying to get various bits of the family together for lunch. Every date suggested has been inconvenient for one person or another. The last time we got together, some time on December while my niece who works in Dubai was visiting, Granddaughter Number Two protested because she was unable to go as she was away university. So we wanted to meet up while she was home from university for the Easter break. Finally, on Sunday we managed it but still the two young male cousins, my Grandson Number One and my sister’s grandson, opted out and decided to stay home in bed and then play computer games. But a good time was had by all who went, despite my sister’s complaints about the food. Her Granddaughter Number One confided in me: “Grandma always complains about the food wherever we go!” It may well be true but the pub/restaurant we went to did have a lot of items unavailable and service was slow. However, when we went to a nearby cafe for coffee (the pub’s coffee machine was broken down - that says it all really!) she did complain about the coffee; much too strong she said! I could have guessed that as it seemed perfectly good “proper” coffee to me.
My sister is a great stickler to tradition and a bit sentimental. Consequently, not having seen us at Christmas, she produced Christmas cards, each containing a £10 note for all my grandchildren, provoking slight transitory guilt on my part as I had not done the same for hers. But then, I did pay for lunch!
Grandson Number Two, now three and a half, set out to charm everyone with his chat dinosaurs and volcanoes. Just occasionally he gets his language confused. He has been known to tell his mother he is proud of her, echoing things people say to him. And then he has been heard to tell his father he is angry OF him for not cooperating in a game just as he child would like. He also forms past tenses in grammatically correct forms according to the rules, but incorrect according to usage: we comed in the car; he gived me a present; I runned very fast.
I love the way small children assimilate language. Here’s an example from a friend on social media:
“Having been told it’s rude to call dinner “gross”, our four year old is finding increasingly creative ways to express himself,
“This tastes ….. unlucky to me”.
This sends my mouth into outer space (that’s bad)”.
“Cauliflower is … (pinches fingers together) … this much delicious”.
Our little fellow has been known to tell us he “loves” some item of food, just because he wants to try it, only to declare after that first taste, “I don’t love it”. He’s good at polite refusals though, telling us, “I’m not a big fan of …”. He is a big fan of butter icing or whipped cream on the top of cakes though!
Life goes on. Stay safe and well, everyone!
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