I came across this poem recently which Esther wrote for my birthday a few years ago. With its stern, but timely, moral, I thought I should share it with as many people as I can. You’ll be glad to know that it was just the nudge I needed to mend my ways in time before financial ruin was upon us.
Just time to post this before my poker cronies arrive… Continue reading A Morality Tale
A new garden – and the gardening spark has been rekindled! There was I thinking that I’d been there, dug that and worn out the T-shirt. Even sent all my gardening books to the charity shop. And now, faced with a new terrain, I am back in thrall to my trowel, heaps of manure and – my imagination, which, sadly, seems rather more fertile than our stony ground looks. Still, Continue reading Playing in the garden
The saga of the three weeks preceding our relocation to Kent has been shared with many of you, but you’ll forgive me if I revisit it briefly to set the scene for our further adventures.
Two bike incidents on one Sunday resulted in an ankle ligament injury for me and a broken right wrist for Archie. With a week to go before our farewell charity concert, don’t you think it reasonable that when Archie phoned to tell me his news from the hospital, my first query was ‘Will you be able to play in the concert?’ Continue reading Of Family, Friends and Felines
There are good things and bad things about having a dog.
For years now, we have seen how the children who visit our house for lessons can only see the good things – while their parents only see…! Right now, as it’s time for one of Sanday’s bi-annual moults (each of which lasts about six months), I am currently living out one of the bad things. But as I yet again hoover up what seems to be enough Sanday-hair to make a second dog, I reflect on one of the best things about having a dog. No, it’s not that wicked, whipping tail Continue reading Farewell to Ha’penny Bridge
Do you ever find that when you’re extra busy, you feel the need to take up some all-consuming activity that has no connection at all to the matters that are crowding on your life and uses up the time that you have allotted to these urgent tasks?
I could blame my daughter-in-law who tentatively told me that the baby, my granddaughter, had grown out of all her cardigans. I could blame the family who house-and-animal-sat for us while they were between houses and we were away from home – they gave me a voucher to spend in an exotic wool shop. Continue reading A good yarn
- Butter (slightly salted) – 100gms
- Milk – 250ml
- Condensed milk (sweetened) – 1 tin (397gms)
- Golden syrup – 20gms
- White granulated sugar – 1 kg (cane sugar rather than beet though both work excellent tablet)
- Vanilla extract or essence – 10ml (2 teaspoons)
I have made tablet all my life, although I have to concede that my mother (I should say ‘our’; there were a lot of us!) helped me at least until I started school.
Some tablet recipes are ultra-simple. Something like this: Combine the ingredients and bring to the boil. Continue boiling till the mixture looks medium brown. Remove from the heat, beat for a few minutes, and pour into a greased tray. And, in a sense, that’s all there is to it. But if you look at some of the comments on YouTube or cookery websites, brief instructions like that sometimes produce inedible results. But so do longer, more detailed instructions!
Continue reading Tablet – a Scottish recipe
My mother told me that, when she was twelve years old, she took part in a school show. By then she had grown to her full height of 4 foot 11½ inches and, for a brief time, was almost as round as she was tall. Having a fine singing voice, it was obvious that she should be given a solo part. Sadly the powers-that-were decided that she sounded very much better than she looked. She was cast as ‘The Moon’ and made to sing behind a screen.
In my school, it was also the custom for the Primary Seven classes to prepare a show for the delight of their parents and the rest of the school. It was performed in the drill-hall, half of which became the stage. The rest of the school watched the performance sitting cross-legged on the floor.
Continue reading A bit of a sing-along