love those cupcakes

It's all geek to me

(Webcomic from www.xkcd.com)

The Husband nipped out the other day to buy a tube of Araldite to fix a broken bird bath.   It made me think of my mum who could have given Mrs Malaprop a run for her money.  My dad was always mending stuff and she once asked him if he was using Aphrodite. 

Ups and downs

After admiring these photographs over at Pebbledash, I resolved to start looking up.

So I did.

This afternoon.

In the garden.

But someone nearly fell off.

So I looked down.

Huff, puff, puff.

Three o'clock on the dandelion clock.

Time for a cuppa.

Plot well and truly lost

Did anyone watch the series finale of Lost?  The Boy here has been a fan since the very first episode which is the only one I'd seen.  I caught the last bit of the final episode when he watched it a second time earlier today and, would you believe it, I cried.  Like a baby.   I didn't have a clue what was going on or who was who but I think the music got to me.  Oh, and the dog. 

I'm sure it's an ageing thing and that I'm not the only one who's reduced to tears all too easily.  The Boy reminded me that I cried when Carol Vorderman left Countdown.  And I can't stand the woman.  Barmy or what?

No picnic for this bear

Poor Cubby.

Early yesterday he had to experience a warm wash and spin dry in the washing machine and suffer the indignity of being pegged on the washing line after the littlest kitty here forgot her manners.

As if that wasn't enough, this is what met me when I returned from a trip to the supermarket later in the day.

Life is certainly no picnic for a teddy bear in this house.

Cubby is just relieved it wasn't November 5th.

The twentieth of May

On this day many, many years ago, a Girl with a cigarette

was asked out by a Young Man with long hair.

 

They're still together.

The Woman-who-used-to-be-the Girl reminded the Man-who-used-to-be-the-Young-Man of the significance of the date.

The Man remarked that they looked a lot different to how they'd looked all those years ago.

The Woman jokingly said she thought she looked much the same now as she did then.

"There's just a lot more of you" replied the Man.

Something for the weekend

A cake.

A coffee and walnut cake.

For a change.

Made this morning.

 

Unfortunately, not to everyone's liking here.

So now I have to bake an alternative.

******.

1,2,3,4,5......10

Coming to find you, ready or not.

Bits of Sunday

Bit of breakfast (which I often used to not bother with but am now relishing every day)

 

(Muesli, berries and bananas)

Bit of planting (herbs, strawbs, beans and courgettes which I really haven't a clue about and will just hope for the best)

(Strawberries)

Bit of baking (an old favourite which stuck to the bottom of the loaf tin but tasted OK) 

 

(Lemon drizzle cake)

Bit of reading (which was a very little bit at bedtime if I'm honest)

(Alice Munro, The Beggar Maid)

Bit of researching (on what to do with the stairs which are definitely going to be carpet-less and painted.  Any tips?)

Another blast from the past

Listen to this in its entirety and at full volume. 

Bet you get goosebumps.

Seaside rock

The highlight of our week away had to be the time spent on Gibraltar, that rocky British territory attached to the Spanish mainland which dominates the entrance to the Mediterranean.   

Expectations during the 6 hour drive to where we were staying in Andalucia (with views on the motorway of the snow covered Sierra Nevada) were far from high.  I'd read so much about the general tattiness of the place.  There were accounts of Barbary apes, overdosed on crisps and other remnants of packed lunches, biting tourists. There were complaints of a Rock strewn with litter and with all of the appeal of a jaded English seaside resort. 

 

 

 

But we were very keen to visit this place where my dad had spent a couple of years in his army career, his first posting (his first venture ever) overseas, the place where he learned to speak Spanish and which he talked fondly of over the subsequent years.  (My brother had been similarly inspired by those reminiscences to spend a couple of weeks on Gibraltar during Franco's time when the border with Spain was closed). 

 

But you know what?  We were pleasantly surprised. 

 

 

 

Initially it was the size of the Rock that impressed.  I'd imagined something much less imposing but it's actually 1398 feet at its highest point.  Parking in the Spanish town of La Linea de la Concepcion, we walked to the frontier, went through passport control, waited whilst a plane landed (the main road into Gibraltar actually intersects the runway which is only 500 metres from the city centre) and found ourselves in England (complete with bobbies in familiar uniforms, old postboxes, red telephone kiosks and the British pound).  

 

The Rock is full of history, much of it military, and fascinating buildings.  The fire station is straight out of the nineteen thirties.....

 

 

  .... along with the famous Rock Hotel.

 

Taking the cable car to the top of the Rock we encountered the Barbary apes (macaques) who were surprisingly well behaved, though always ready to look into tourists' backpacks or to help themselves to what might prove to be a tasty tidbit.

 

 

 

The views from the top are spectacular and on a clear day (it remained hazy whilst we were there)  it's possible to glimpse Morocco in the distance.

All in all it was a highly enjoyable visit. Gibraltar is busy, even outside of high summer, and with the presence of M&S, Morrisons, Boots and other high street names, it's very popular with ex pats who crave a taste of home.  It wasn't in the least seedy and the only evidence of rubbish at the top of the Rock was that left by inconsiderate visitors.  (We witnessed one member of a bus tour party unashamedly giving one of the apes the remains of her packed lunch, complete with plastic carrier bag).  

We walked to the cave, now an auditorium, which had housed the underground military hospital where my dad's regiment, the Royal Army Medical Corps, had worked during the Second World War.   I could imagine my dad walking to and from there on a daily basis and it really felt as though I was treading in his footsteps.

Of course, I cried.