Being Cared For

Last weekend we had rather a lovely day in Bridlington. It isn't a place I often rush to but following our experience, I now yearn for a return visit. I think, like a lot of people, when I consider this resort upper most in my mind is a small area of Bridlington that, how shall we say - lacks panache. But bear with me and you too may reconsider and give the place a chance when you understand all that it has to offer.

We started by parking up in the old town in a free car park behind High Street. We had coffee and cream scones at The Georgian Tea Rooms and it was very good indeed. The cafe is a bit of a mixed bag but full of charm with very efficient service. Upstairs is a kind of antiques come bric-a-brac centre where much rummaging can be done in search of hidden treasure. Which we didn't happen to find that particular day. Maybe next time.

Then we headed off to deal with the main purpose of the trip. There is an old fashioned shoe shop that sells real quality mens shoes. My husband bought some Trickers 20 years ago in Pickering and for the last 3 years he's been in search of a shoe shop that stocks said brand, in the hope that he can replace them with a similar tan brogue to last him until 2032. I only recently discovered that Marshalls on High street sell Trickers and also Barkers - both of them made in England. Suffice to say, mission was accomplished and he was chuffed to bits.

Thereafter, we wandered up and down High street in complete awe of the well preserved Georgian architecture. One of the finest in England apparently. There's no wonder it has been used for films and television dramas given it's condition. In particular, I am drawn to the beautiful bow windows and fan lights that for me, just scream Dickens.

As well as art galleries, restaurants, cafes, shoe shops and a second hand book shop, there is even a Singer sewing machine repairer, and on a practical level, a butcher, a baker, a florist and a green grocer. Before I forget, I must point out that the second hand book shop is well worth a look. It is in an old apothecary and the interior is still in tact as you can see from the picture below. I was practically drooling as I asked the proprietor if I could take a photo. 

By now, it was lunch time and we came across rather an old fashioned looking little restaurant with bow windows and heavy lace curtains. I think it was called Ellie Maes. In the window there was a newspaper article that gave the place a glowing review and emphasised that therein awaits the most cheerful waitress you may ever meet. Well that was enough for us and in we went. Sure enough, we were greeted in such a warm manner by a lady who was clearly the one referred to in the window article and as she showed us to a table she asked if we'd like some refreshing iced water for our table as we perused the menu. I felt all of a glow as it is so long since I had witnessed this level of welcome and care in a catering environment. 

We sipped wine as we chose from the menu and enjoyed a delicious roast lamb dinner with perfectly cooked vegetables. Yes, I repeat, perfectly cooked vegetables and, with a jug of gravy. The other half had apple and blackberry crumble with cream and we both had a cup of quality coffee. Pinch me I was in heaven. We left all of a glow and I thanked this wonderful lady for making us feel so cosseted and cared for. 

Then we headed up to the south side for a long walk along the prom to the harbour and back, calling in to see the Spa complex now that it has all been upgraded. I say, it is so impressive. Job well done.

As we strolled back I took the above snap on my mobile phone by pointing it towards the sun in the hope that it may yield an interesting result. I think it's quite atmospheric

One final chapter before I end this report. We had been told of a shop on the north side prom called Whiteleys that remains unchanged for decades and I just had to have a look. It was so quaint and as I stepped over the threshold I swear I was back to 1971. My friend has been searching for some cotton lace half-nets for the house and hey presto I do believe I've found them. And to finish on a complete kitsch high I bought the little chap at the bottom who had been knitted by a local lady. Seventies or what I say ? So just go, enjoy and return home all of a warm glow as we did

Sheeps (sic)

You may think that a strange title but I can assure you it is intentional - hence the 'sic' 

'so or thus: inserted in brackets in a written or printed text to indicate that an odd or questionable reading is what was actually written or printed' according to the Collins Dictionary

You see, my mum and I have this thing about mis-pronouncing various words for added effect. Why? Well, suppose 'cos we can! I think it's just part of our eccentric nature and it gives us a little pleasure and a little fun. So as another example, we may be out in the country one day when we happen upon Mr Goose and all of the other Geeses (sic) or perhaps we may be watching Draklia (sic) on TV being taken away in an ambliance (sic) and so it goes on.

Fear not, we wouldn't expose ourselves as complete idiots by talking loudly in public in this quirky manner. It's our little joke and inwardly makes us smile.

So, these sheeps that you see below. They were hanging around on the lane outside our holiday cottage waiting for a bus. Heading into town for a few beers I expect. In fact it was Friday so maybe the intention was to have more than a few beers, get well and truly tanked up and end the night with a brawl and a session in the gutter. Breaking a few hearts along the way.

But then Mr Farmer came along and before we could say Lancashire Hotpot he'd moved them on to the next lane and spoiled everyone's fun in the process. Pah. Who'd be a farmer huh?

By the way, the one with the black face is called Harold

Musings of a Transient Tweeter

Well, before too long I will be celebrating the anniversary of my first tentative tweet. You fellow tweeters will recall it's the one where you don't fully understand what the hell you are doing and you are darn sure no-one will read it on account of you having no followers. Zilch, zero, zip, naught, knack-all. But you gotta start somewhere - right? 

The early days were unusual, but encouraging. My first follower was a local talented chef who had served up many a tasty treat for us and before long I had purloined some of his tweeting group from our neighbourhood. I was particularly delighted to find that my ex piano tutor was one of them. Since I had given up the ivorys, I had missed sharing the time with John as we often had a giggle - usually at my expense as I amused both of us with my alternative style of play. Think Miss Marple meets Marty Feldman.

Then there was a lovely lady from an art gallery close to my parents roots in West Yorkshire whose website inspired me to order from them. There was the 'mad busy florist' and the local beef producers who I noticed have now been following this blog - high five and thanks to you both, I am touched. Along came an Irish guy whose claim to fame was making the worlds best Shepherd pie and I have to take his word for this. Oh and A & A bringing up the rear from their gorgeous 'little shop around the corner' - gee welcome back from the windy city folks.

I take a great deal of interest in Sue and Alison - the former a talented and eloquent award winning gardener and the latter a very amusing, energetic epic smiler who is determined to keep going despite many set backs and disappointments. And as for Sparklie, what can I say. Such a way with words that often has me chuckling out loud, and oh how I miss her contributions if she is laid low for a day. But I understand.

There was a memorable moment last month when I mentioned having an ear worm that involved a very complex rapper's hit going around in my head. Within a couple of minutes, Phiona, talented artist who was exhibiting not long ago in Paris (for real, mais oui) reported back that she once memorised all of the words to 'Rapper's Delight'. Whoa respect to that woman! Then on a dull day in Britain I only have to dwell on the tweets from our friends in Tuscany to conjure up a little virtual sunshine and warmth. Or to inspire myself, I head down to the wildlife artist's site for inspiration and gaze in wonderment at his beautiful pictures which are painted just a few miles from where I live. 

Another of my favoured tweeters is V who lives in one of the most beautiful parts of the North East where we have often stayed. The walking is just out of this world and V and her family run a lovely cafe, serving great coffee and the freshest sandwiches we have ever tasted on this planet! Not that I have yet sampled moon sandwiches as a comparison but It's on my retirement list for 2030. Earth to Tuss00 ....

Susie baked a cake, posted a picture and invited me over to share it; Mrs S, just down the road, boy when she gets angry she makes me smile - language Timothy! Finally, a mention to the one that I miss who isn't around at the moment .... come back soon, please. It's not the same without you

Request Granted

I know what you're thinking. "wow, she's been to Buck Palace and had the Corgis away'. But actually, if you look really closely you will see that these aren't real dogs at all. They are knitted using wool! Honestly, I am not kidding. My little joke ;-)

A few months ago I read an article in The Guardian which included instructions to knit your own Corgi. They looked so cute that I pondered upon how I might obtain one. There was absolutely no way on this God given earth that I would knit one myself on account of my not being able to sit still for long enough.  As a youngster, under guidance of the family matriarchy I did once manage to knit one glove and that was enough for me. I was outta there looking for more excitement than a pair of needles and a ball of wool could provide for me. Sagittarians are soon bored by routine and repetition. 

So I emailed several friends and family and appealed that someone might take the trouble to knit one of the critters for me. I expected to hear no more on the subject and tucked the idea away in the back of my mind. Well, within about 5 weeks I had 3 of the little beauties presented to me. To say I was touched is an understatement. The big lad at the back was from my mum and the pair of pups in the foreground, from one of my oldest friends, Sue. The red ribbon with the jingle bell is from a Lindt chocolate bunny that fell into my mouth one day as I walked past the kitchen cupboard. It just happened.

So there lies the story of 3 Corgis which I treasure very much. Oh and if you want to know the relevance of the yellow mustard pot then leave a comment with your email address and I'll tell you ...

Our Wonderful Winter Common Pasture Land

Today is Monday and yesterday was Sunday and I wish it was yesterday again. Like many other areas of England we awoke to a heavy covering of snow and this, to the child-like side of my character, equated to our very own fairy tale winter wonderland. It had the added advantage of being fresh and clean too. Oh what joy! I simply had to get out there to experience this rare opportunity before it all disappeared for another year. You'll probably have realised by now that I had temporarily suspended my usual reaction to heavy snow as I didn't need to use my car. It was almost as if I was in a convenient bubble of hedonism and had blocked out the existence of another world that I just didn't want to think about for 24 hours. So off we went on the short walk to the Westwood breathing the clean fresh air into the far corners of our gills. Boy it felt good.

And before long we came across the people and the dogs. All ages and all shapes and sizes. And for me as a dog lover it was as much about the dogs as it was about the people. Have you ever noticed how much dogs just love being around people at play? They are in heaven.

Now below is a lovely hound who, shall we say, was a little on the voluptuous side. Hadn't quite retained the figure of her youth. I digress. I first spotted her as she was trying to squeeze under the nearby bench  failing miserably. So she gave up and decided instead to chew playfully on a lump of snow as she eyed me suspiciously. This same dog was soon to be seen scampering about like a crazy kid making friends with people and other animals in the area and generally enjoying the freedom that her kind guardian had allowed her on this special day. You may spot her in another photo later on as she scampers and plays.

 Then we have the grown-ups at play. Good on you who ever you are. 

 Oh and the colours - such a great photographic opportunity

This hound was called Holly. A pretty brindle cross staffy with a liking for all things 'snow'. Here she waits, alert, ready for the snowball to be launched. I have no idea who most of these people are but I often find that we communicate through our dogs and before long we know their names

 Little and large. I have seen these beauties around town and they always draw admiring glances. How beautiful they are ... one day I will know their names too. 

 And after a couple of idyllic hours we started to head home. It was a perfect morning and I reflected later upon what a wonderful, spontaneous, community gathering we had witnessed and been part of. There were hundreds of people and dogs enjoying our special area of common land and we all got along so well. It's times like this that my faith in humankind is restored. It was all free, it was all healthy and the biggest surprise of all? I cannot remember hearing or seeing one piece of electronic equipment anywhere! Pinch me - I think I must have been dreaming

I Baked a Cake

There's not a lot to say about this picture. I mean why spoil your viewing experience and interrupt the flow of digestive juices with a lot of irrelevant words. It's a cake. A big over the top chocolate cake that makes peoples eyes grow large and interested. I baked it for a friends birthday. End of ... enjoy :-)

Exquisite!

 

Here's something worth sharing with you all. You may not appreciate when first glancing at the above picture that the whole thing is carved out of wood. Yes, honestly, it really is. The close up below goes part way to demonstrating this. When I first came across this clever man and his amazing skill at a local country fayre I couldn't quite believe what I was seeing. I stood and stared in awe as did many other people as they wandered by. The detail is just exquisite. 

The final picture shows further proof of his art. All I could think was that his family would have some wonderful heirlooms to pass on to future generations. Enjoy ...

 The clever man is on the right

Cultural Identity

My heart was all warm and aglow this evening when I happened upon a feature on TV about a elderly man and his allotment. It has been his life-long passion - albeit with intermittent hiatus of wife and children - and continues to be the thing that makes him tick, smile and warm with contentment.

It started me off thinking about that wonderful old tradition of allotment keeping that stretches back decades and brings so much pleasure to an awful lot of people for a variety of reasons. Every time I see an allotment I also get a glow of contentment as a warm river of nostalgia washes over me. That rich tapestry of nature and manufacture that combine to produce what almost appears to be a work of art - especially if viewed from above.  

I was reminded of one or two allotment keeper's associations that maintain the annual event of showing their prized possessions - the fruits of their labours. All kinds of weird and wonderful monstrosities and quirks of nature that have the viewing public 'ooohing' and 'aghing' in aghast at what lies before them. oh the photo opportunites are endless

Once upon a time we happened to be in Durham and came across a particularly handsome and dramatic show of produce the like of which I have not yet seen equalled. The onions, the cabbages and the marrows to name but a few were enough to make me exclaim out loud in socially unacceptable expletives that I wouldn't normally resort to but it just seemed appropriate at the time. 

    The Picture above was taken about 4 months ago. We'd been to Caistor and on the way back took a diversion through Kirton in Lyndsey. There in the little town hall was a show of produce that had a charm all of it's own. No need for words, the picture says it all. I just love it .....