Mr Hairy Suit goofing as always.

We had a fab time on Saturday. The food was as excellent as usual, the surroundings pleasantly green and one couldn't wish for better companions. The camera-shy Mr Horsehound and Mrs Hairy Suit obliged us big-heads by being camera people for the day. I'll try to gain access to Mrs Hairy's camera phone and bag a few more pics.
I truly had a wonderful day and after a sumptuous lunch of grilled haloumi followed by liver and bacon followed excitedly by chocolate brioche ravioli and cream we tootled home only to lounge around drinking tea swearing we'll never overdo it again.
We didn't drink though. Well only one of us did. Moi. And that was a little Pimm's and lemonade. The other people supped softies.
Mother was fine about us going out. And even though she'd promised to come I didn't get in a fight with her. I knew she must have felt awful about letting me down on my birthday.

I had lots of cards and presents and enjoyed being with my mates. And that's what it's all about.



Today we've spent most of the day picking up mother...

As I type Andy Murray is playing a big Aussie. I'm no Murray Maniac but I want him to win because I relish getting settled down with some nice sweet tea watching him get beat up by Djokovic in a few days time....


Talking of beating...On Thursday afternoon in the cardiac centre my bradycardia will be discussed.
So no nasty shocks Andy. Please!

A Pint of Wallop or a glass of sherry

Being t- total I'll plump for a bottle of  J2O. I won't though mind if Mr Horsehound and Mr and Mrs Hairy Suit get squiffy. I would though be very surprised.

I'm going out for lunch to a fine hostelry called The Royal Oak with the very fine aforementioned folk, who are as excited as I am at the prospect of dressing up then indulging in fine dining. Put simply every plate of food I've had at The Royal Oak has been fabulous.

Mum though won't be joining us. She's a little tender at the moment so feels it best if she stays in and watches the tennis. (Nadal being on Centre Court at 13:00 hrs followed by Sharipova then Federer)
I was stumped for a reply this morning when, after showing mum the gifts Mr Horsehound had given me for my birthday, she looked blank saying she didn't know it was my birthday.
I laughed.
I had to.

After having two more cups of tea I did what needed doing and we chatted away like theold birds we are, mostly yacking about the caravan Hairy Suit and I are buying. It's sited by the River Crouch. See picture below taken by Mr Horsehound.

River Crouch

A Happy Day

Early this morning after re-arranging mum's furniture Hairy Suit and myself tootled off to see Hairy's ma and pa. It is ma's birthday
A little lady and a big big man. That was ma and pa not me and Hairy.
Whilst we chatted away like a squall of old parrots my old mum was watching Andrew Neil hosting The Daily Politics show on BBC2. Must be where I get my interest in the grubby business from.
Mr Horsehound meanwhile was steering youngsters new to the tv business in every right direction. A born teacher.

I digress.

'Twas a most pleasing couple of hours with Viola and Trevor, and as they enthused about their wild back garden I felt more than a passing twang of sadness. Sadness on account of my mum not being able to share it. Not that mum has green fingers but she does like looking into other people's houses.
Viola was the perfect hostess offering tea and biscuits using beautiful bone china and a ravishing array of delicious biscuits. Real old school and I loved it.
As the four of us surveyed the undulating landscape of the back garden I was struck by how stunningly simple everything was. Simple borders, haphazard planting of fruits and veggies, a miniature railway painstakingly lovingly constructed running around the edge of the wild lawn and, down towards the station hut, a galaxy of golden fish swimming happily and fat in Trevor's homemade pond. Amazing.
Just the type of garden I would like one day. The kind of horticultural haven that would have to bring out the poet......
It was imperfect.
There was, amongst the weeds and lillies, rusting buckets and old yellow hoses, split bags of sand and old plump pear trees, and, by the loganberries a rusting bird feeding station, warped wonky but packed with sunflower hearts and mealworms.
Viola's smile caught on. There we sat in her conservatory which only another hoarder and collector of ceramic birds could love talking merrily and earnestly about rhubarb and life's big decisions.


She liked the gift I'd given her, oriental lillies in a purple pot and the card with hand drawn pictures of non-descript flowers. I think in the future Viola and I will be share many a happy hour.

As it's my birthday tomorrow I need to get to bed right now on account of having a smashing lunch party tomorrow with Hairy, his wife Mrs Hairy, my Mr Horsehound and hopefully, mother.
She hasn't been tip top today but I'm hoping that after a few hours sleep in a pain free night she'll be able to come with us.

Goodnight All

E

.........Embark
without fail
take off without fear
your heart needs to travel
.......Embrace
without embarrassment
open eyed so as to see
your love transparent
........ Enjoy
without hindrance
loving

Big Ball or Small Ball

There's some great tennis at Wimbledon today with the likes of Federer and Sharapova hitting Centre and Number One Court.
I'm hoping to both of them.
However over on ITV1 at 4 pm a footie programme showing England v Costa Rice. Kick-off 5pm.
If super hitter Federer is still on court or indeed the fabulously talented Sharapova what will I do?
Probably tune in to watch England drop out. A sad day for English football.

Ex- footballer Ray Samson was talking on the radio this morning saying a lot of England players in the past haven't taken playing for the National side as seriously as when playing for their clubs. Get away! Always thought that Ray. Always. I'm hoping the current team will be shamed into upping their game when it comes to internationals. All ears and eyes will now be on Euro 2016...I'll be 18 days away from my 60th birthday when the competition kicks off on the 10th June and I'll be hoping and expecting a damn fine show from Roy's boys...





About to try and get Mother out for a morning's shopping in the sunshine. I've done her make-up and hair and she's feasted on porridge so she should be feeling a lot better than yesterday so I'm hoping for no more tantrums.


Yes today should be ok. Tennis, Football, Cod and chips for our tea and tinned blackberries and cream for sweet.

Updated

Wimbledon is here and with it the usual speculation regarding the weather. Also pondered is whether Mr Andy Murray will retain his crown.
Nope. Just my opinion of course. I'm sure there are people who think he will bag another title. But from what I saw at Roland Garros and Queens the likes of Nada and Djokovic have little to worry about. But then what do I know..
I thought the England football team would reach the last 16 but no. On Saturday they're playing Costa Rica hoping they will at least be boarding the plane home with a crumb of dignity in their hand luggage.
Shocking, really shocking.
Talking of shocking.......... myself and Mr Horsehound were up at half past early ( 3:30) dealing with Mother and as sleep failed to return we decided to stay up and, sitting in the kitchen, in the kitchen looked up at a blue and white sky which was a dead ringer for the opening credits of The Simpsons. It made us laugh.

After taking Mr H to the station I crept in so as not to wake mama seeking to gain an hour or two of oneness with nature.
And at 6 am as I glanced out of the window a black and white slimline puss sloped around the back garden gliding effortlessly between my shrubs. His sparkling pink rhinestone collar looking out of place in an English garden.
Our eyes met then he scarpered like the beast he is.


If I can get mum in the car we'll go to the shops this morning, but, if like yesterday she cannot even stand, then we'll do something else.


Wimbledon starts on BBC2 at 11:30.

 Mum was too weak to get to her feet so I went shopping with Hairy Suit. We weren't out long, but long enough to buy a couple of recipe books.

Free..UPDATED

Mr Horsehound and I went out.
First stop Primark for t-shirts and lippy then into two art exhibitions run by Southend Arts. Decent enough works on display. But I'm no critic. With its bland magnolia interior, eclectic mix of creative efforts and goth girl on security it was cool haven in the heart of the Royals shopping centre.
I felt right at home.

Afterwards we visited the Heart Foundation charity shop just opposite wherein old beady eyes here saw a vision of loveliness..NO I WASN'T LOOKING IN A MIRROR..I clocked a simple gorgeous tan leather Laurick shoulder bag. No I haven't heard of them either. But it is beautifully made and elegant. And with a price tag of 3:99 I considered myself very lucky.

Then after realizing we'd been out for nearly two hours we came home.

After Italy failed to do us a good turn by beating Costa Rica we will soon be heading back to Blighty. It'd do us good though to leave Brazil feeling that although we're out we managed to salvage some honour by beating Costa Rica.....
WE WILL BEAT THEM....

won't we?


Wimbledon begins Monday......


Argentina are playing Iran. Fair game, fair game. Tonight's match I won't be seeing on account of needing a movie fix. Probably plump for guns. Probably Eastwood in one of his best. GRAN TORINO. He's 84 you know.

Hey Glo, I know what you're thinking is this my second blog post or is it my first to tell the truth I've kinda lost count.