A Tree, some sweet peas and a cake book...

I was overcome with Springtime joy this morning so I drove to Hockley.

There really is something in the air right now, well there is around me at least. So bonkers am I with just about everything that I'm even leaning against railings talking to men on phones..More on that later...

Two charity shops and Four Acres garden centre was on my Hit List today so off I sped, window down hence frenzied hair. Loved it.

In my first shop I chatted to lady-on-till the caravan owning 65 year old Pauline, she's the one who wears leather waistcoats and has her mum in a 'home'. Anyway as she bagged two books, 'CAKES' by Barbara Mather and 'GROWING SOFT FRUIT' by the Women's Institute I looked out of the shop window wishing I could bottle how I felt. Right then, right there. My little grey head was stuffed full of good and excellent things like the weekend when I'll be doing not much with anything or anyone, Easter when cakes will be baked and guests will be kissed. So much to look forward to. And so that is why Pauline had to ask twice for the money, the 75p.
"Oooops in a far away world " I beamed
"Hahaha" noised white haired Pauline as she dropped my cash into her till.

I left feeling a million bucks.

And so as I passed the Homeopathic centre, and boutique of a thousand bad bags I wondered if today could get any better.
You betcha.

Next stop the other charity shop, the one rubbing shoulders with the Co-Op, which I hate.
I entered, nay, galloped inside wherein I drifted from books to bric-a-brac to...bags where I halted transfixed..by a tan tooled leather shoulder bag, shape not dissimilar to a barrel with a plain sturdy zip and no interior pocket for mobile phone. The bag was THAT old.
It was instant love, instant satisfaction I knew I had to have it. And as my fingers stroked the beautifully soft leather I thought I would faint.
'How can' I thought, 'a little secondhand bag do so much for me?'
Quite simple really I fancied it and it was within my power to have it, mmmm what a feeling.
And then as I approached the 200 year old woman manning the till thoughts of outside activities crept into my mind...
More on that later too...


In the shop run by a coven of overly made up ladies I also found a watering can, rather pretty in eau de nil with pencil like sketches of flowers stamped on thereabouts. Immediately imagined me in straw hat watering roses.
Anyway I bought that too, along with a stunning small crystal jug, just made for cream...
I paid the lady, mumbled something about the weather and left.
So an excellent hour was spent with very little monetary outlay...

Talking of money...Before all that I saw an ad in a shop window, a local 'professional' couple needs a Domestic, so, like I said up top, I leaned against the railings outside the building society and phoned Eddie. Answerphone. Bugger. Message left...

On the way home I didn't want to come home so I did a detour and once again strolled like a lady poet around Four Acres, stopping frequently to talk to Tinkerbell the dog. After stroking her and chatting to the man who runs the place about fat pets I dreamily wandered between overladen tables.
And then, over in the corner, past the baby conifers, lavender and hydrangeas I spotted something a bit familiar.

And as I approached the willowy green thing my heart suddenly boom boomed. It was, the label said, a MAGNOLIA. A MAGNOLIA! And the picture on its label had me quivering almost doing a jig. I've seen many MAGNOLIAS on my trips to the post office only I didn't, and you have to forgive my gardening ignorance here, I didn't know they were MAGNOLIA TREES. But now infront of me stood one, well several actually but the one I wanted I already had my hands on.
Didn't want much else (apart from Alpine Arabis White, some Sweet Peas Spencer Mixed and Lupin Russell, The Pages) anyway I hugged the tree walked round the many tables and laid it ever so lovingly on the proprietor's desk.

And so after talking to Tinkerbelle, I paid up and the very kindly owner, with the hands of a nurturer placed my tree in my car.

The End.

* By the way Eddie phoned. The position has been taken. Blast. But knowing a thing or two about women workers and how fickle and ill they can be I decided to sell myself well, blah blah Henry, blah blah, WRVS blah...I finished by telling him not to forget me and that if it all gets too much for the other bird, then he's to give me a call:)
He laughed.

The End.

Really.

De-Composition in Green

Mr Horsehound knows the way to my heart... a 220 ltr compost bin. Who said romance was dead?

I'm Blue but only in the eyeshadow department.

Another smashing day weatherwise.
So went mad in Sainsbury's buying oranges, Alpen, leeks and white cabbage. The cabbage is for Coleslaw, the oranges for munchkin cakes and the leeks for soup. Alpen for brekkie and flapjacks.
Decent enough price wise so was well pleased,

On the way home I thought about Easter.
I like Easter.
I wish I was more original but, like everyone else, I'll be making Hot Cross Buns, have a feeling though I'll be doing something with orange peel.

Being kept warm in the oven is a nice piece of Cod Roe for mum and a nice piece of Cod for Mr H. I'll slum it with eggs.

Being cooked later and definitely not in the slumming league will be a blooming decent Fish Pie (er what more fish, ooops!) Mental Note No Fish Twice.


Pud probably lemon.

On a more selfish level... exiting Sainsbury's a pair of blue enamel earrings caught my eye. Small square with curly whirly squiggles.
Gone bonkers on Blue.
As I flounced into the drawing room this morning bearing mother's cuppa I wore a striking shiny Bhs satin nightie.
"Oh Ang, that looks lovely, you should wear more blue....."
Shut up ma I told her or I'll kick your ankles.
Loved it really:)

So with blue in mind I sorted through a cosmetics dumpbin in Sainsbury's hunting for anything blue. I found a Rimmel Azure eyeshadow half the literal price. Yippee thought me and hid it under a bag of onions... Didn't want Mr H seeing:(

Now fish eggs and tea. Cheerio!

Automatic Writings.. old late night friends

.....A long shallow cool wall with funky dips and football grazes
is home to infestations
scabbed and gnarled the beaten wall sucks them in
nameless ignorant grey black creatures
them all

***********************
FYI
As a matter of fact
whether mountains dissolve
or
rain ignites
there'll never be another you

*****************************

Edith Nose
late of this dreadful parish
consumed by wrathed love
bit off the head of the man she loved
it was, she told me, after we'd sunk lemon tea
the only way to
keep him

safe

***********************************

Bee
maniac
well you act like one
headbutting cold blooms
as they hold their ground in someone's chilly garden
Bee
behave
you're the King of Flying Insects
don't nut petals
be nice

****************************

Your eyes
your
eyes
breaking the sentence
makes it whole

**********************

Stood a loyal man
in a cage of his own construction
would he could he stoop low enough
to instigate his own escape
if the bird on the outside
is pretty enough
sure
Yes she's enough
so loyal man digs
and digs
till a day comes when all he hears is
the sigh of healing bones and bird song
"a robin redbreast in a cage puts all of heaven in a rage"
our man sings!

*******************************

Alright enough of the writings by others hands, I'm going to bed now, hopefully to dream in colour.......... about rainbows.

Outrageous!

A piece of 'Normal' cake

I removed my stockings in the street.

I had to.

One of them was heading downwards anyway. So being fabulously practical I thought I'd do the sensible thing and do the pair, darling.

So...after slipping off one sandal I quickly brought down the offending piece of nylon, then, with another quick flick and drag the other sandal and stocking were off.
It was so funny...
What to do now I said to my mate....Being incredibly resourceful I dropped the pair of rather disappointing stockings into my handbag where they would remain till after I'd been to the Co-Op.

The weather though was gorgeous, all blue brilliance and bird song. I felt like running. But I kept calm and proceeded along the highway in a ladylike manner.

(The Co-Op was cool wherein I purchased mags and papers and skimmed milk, dreadfully dear though.)

Next stop the charity shop where the tall-as-Blackpool-Tower lad was holding the fort. Lovely young lad he is, don't know his name, but his mum works there and he always under charges me, not because he fancies me (I'm old enough to be his nan) but because he can't be bothered about whether the nightie is knee length or maxi. Knee length £1. Max £2:50. (The old dears who volunteer know the exact price of every blooming thing, no short cuts or guessing for them. RIGHT!

More stuff bought: A small made in Cornwall pottery milk churn with a Lucky Piskey on front."Descended from an Ancient race of Celtic Imps, the tiny and mischievous Cornish Piskey will bring good fortune to those lucky enough to set eyes upon him".
50p.

A square blue gingham tablecloth. Makes me feel clean. 75p
A matching Napkin. Will use it as small teacloth for drying delicates like china egg cups.
2 vibrant green square cushions. On one side 'tis writ....Mare and Foal Sanctuary...Kindness. Care & Knowledge. And, inside a neat oval, a black mare and white foal.
I see myself one day riding away. Long silver hair streaming behind me, firm buttocks caressing good leather and my mobile phone chucked:)

oh yes the wild calls.....Geddit?

(By the way bought Good Housekeeping)

My favourite purchase of all? A silver plated teaspoon with a small bird heading the handle. It's been well used on account of the fadedness and lack of shine on the little chirpy chap. But I'll love it anyways:)
Cost? A stomping great £1. That's a lot for that shop.

I think that's about it.

So with bare legs and heart full I danced home. Stopping momentarily to exchange views with a friend about Giant Bonsai ?



Little things matter a great deal. And are priceless too...
And so it was that I discovered, by way of a pal of mine, another name for Victoria Sponges and other plain cakes...

'Normal Cakes'.

If I sat here for a hundred years I'd never come up with something so apt and original.
Out of the mouths of babes... or feisty 11 year olds:)
Thanks M.

X

Gloho believes Yoho soso...

Me.
Not on the way to the post office.
Vintage handbag. Scarf around waist. Say no more.

Make the mosto of what you've got o.

*Yoho...You're Only Here Once

Alright so I'm a little loco but as far as I/you know the only hours and years we have are these hours and these years. So do 'em. Grip tightly good days. Go swimming. Wear your best frock to Rock and or pick up the pension.

Don't know what comes next, if anything, but after Sea Bass and Amaretti Ice Cream I don't give a hoot. (No Digger, it wasn't a fishy cream fusion) I intend to do whatever I want. With Mother's consent.

Where was I?
Oh yes. Making hay etc...Well this morning I did that. I said hello to an incredibly old woman with butter yellow hair, she was dragging a white dog with a limp."Lovely day again" said me "Ooooh yes" said yellow hair "Hope it stays all day"
Her face crinkled with years of gardening, lines etched deep but a fun friendly face, bit comical with its big eyes and thick red lips. Whose mouths have you kissed my dear? Love to know.

I smiled and left her to her own secret doggy devices.

In the shop there was an English queue.
It consisted of three stout ladies and one Cool Tanned Dude. The ladies exchanged views about you know what, meanwhile the Dude clung to his milk bottle.
Dude? In an village newsagents?
Tall, obvious owner of rowing machine, dark glossy hair, shades and............ cigarette being squeezed between his cruel thin lips. Er...I was surprised by Mr Janggaramingers silence.Health and Safety etc. Oh well unlikely to set anything on fire much.

Anywayyyyyyy
I watched as they all paid up and left then I paid up and left too. The ladies in the direction of the post office and church hall,the Dude back to his home of a thousand mirrors I expect...and how the lad walked, nay, paraded past Vicky's Cute Card shop swinging carelessly his bottle of semi-skimmed.

I blame TOWIE.*

Must say cheerio now. I have things to do, mouths to feed, dreams to dream:)

Being cooked today.
Bread.





*The Only Way Is Essex. A television programme about Essex young:(

Pheasant

Almshouses

I was in a friend's car when I saw it.
His mickey mouse legs carrying his beautifully curved bod dashed along the grey pavement oblivious to traffic then like the quick braveheart he was darted mad-cap into a perfectly laundered front garden.
"Oh Look" said me
"A Pheasant" said me mate with the air and confidence of someone used to the outdoors.
Giggle. I did. Never seeing one this close up before.
But before I could say 'roast' the cheery kind-of-out-of-place fella had disappeared into a bush and we, that's me and me mate, were doing thirty on our way to the countryside.

It's funny you know, how appreciative I am of little things, of small pleasures, because for the next hour or so I was scanning the side of roads looking for other interesting animals.
Didn't see any living ones:(


I do love cruising the countryside of Essex, especially the north, glorious green undulations with massive trees, medium cows and tiny Inns. So utterly English.
Greystoned churches built ages ago to thatched cottages with names like 'Elizabeth' and 'Yew Tree' stood dotted roundabout like pretty coloured pieces on a fantasy chess board.
How many laughs, tears and tulips had they seen?

Later on I had a full on close up look at a church, don't know its name I was too dumbstruck to find out, but this home of Christianity was so cool it was almost cold. Bitty rock and stones pitted and worn with years of weather and wars stood fine with a perfect sky making a good backdrop. I saw four gargoyles too, standing, which I thought was strange, standing on a tower, their lacklustre interest made for comical viewing.
I imagined...."How long have we been here?" said one "A few lifetimes, I expect" said another and THAT is what fascinates me about old stuff. The amount of life, death and bird droppings they have watched and suffered.
I wouldn't want to be a gargoyle I'd much rather be the pheasant... taking my chances...

I hope he got home safe...

Okey dokey back to reality.

Corned Beef.

:)