A Tight Situation

Last autumn, my friend Wendy gave me a challenge - could I make her some "tidy bags" for her tights. She wanted to separate the navy from the black ones, as it is sometimes a challenge to work out what colour your tights are, first thing on a winter's morning. I made her a set of three bags

At the time, I thought I should make some for myself. It has taken me a year to get round to it!

But when I did my summer/winter clothes sort the other week, I realised the tights were all a bit jumbled up. I tipped them out onto the bed in a tousled heap

I found some more fabric samples in the Stash, and chose three which went well together. I chose three buttons - black, blue, and brown, and made my bags,.

Then I sorted the tights, darning small holes in some of them, discarding others which were beyond repair. And all is neat and tidy now! Blacks, blues and 'others' segregated and packed away

What's Thirty Minutes?

 

People round me are still discussing their experiences of flu and covid jabs. Venues seem to fall into two categories- the in-and-out  ones, and the standing-in-a-queue-for-ages places. A member of one such conversation stated she was in&out, but she couldn't see why other people were unhappy with queuing.
"What is thirty minutes out of someone's life. It means nothing!" she declared. I mumbled it was tough if you were 90 and struggling to stand for all that time. 
I have thought a lot about the remark since. There was a woman ahead of me in the queue who had brought her husband for his jab. He had severe Alzheimer's, they'd travelled in on the bus from their village for his timed appointment. The delay meant he was getting agitated, they'd probably missed the bus back and would have a further hour to wait. 
In other situations a 30 minutes delay can be really significant - a delayed train may mean you miss your connection for the rest of your journey. A 30 minute traffic jam can make you late for an important appointment.

30 minutes in someone's life can be very special - the time you sit with a child reading a storybook, or snuggled on the sofa watching an episode of their special tv programme. Half an hour travelling in the car, or walking home with a family member, having time to talk properly without other distractions.

Thirty minutes spent writing/reading a letter, having a long phone conversation, or chatting on WhatsApp, can help make loved ones feel closer, more in touch. Half an hour spent writing a blogpost, preparing a meal, planting out seedlings,darning a sock, knitting baby bootees, creating a greetings card - these are all practical half hour tasks which give me joy, and I hope will bless others.

Half an hour by someone's bedside, in the hospital or Hospice, - giving them your full attention, listening to what they need to say, and responding to them. For someone who is unwell, or one who knows their time is limited, those thirty minutes are truly precious, those conversations matter.

For anxious Mums and Dads, that time slot at the parents' evening can help clear up problems, improve communication with the school, and benefit the children.

So please don't tell me thirty minutes out of someone's life is nothing and doesn't matter. More to the point, it is not my place to decide what matters for someone else. And it is not my place to waste someone else's precious time, if I can possibly help it.  We each have a responsibility to live wisely and well. And to consider the impact of our actions on others. Time is not there to be wasted
I am not saying that Kipling was right in urging men to "fill the unforgiving minute with sixty seconds worth of distance run"  - it is appropriate to walk sometimes, to stop and appreciate the beauty around us, to notice the needs of others, just to find rest for our souls, simply to be.
The Psalmist says "Teach us to number our days, that we may gain wisdom" [Psalm 90v12] and I am inclined to agree

I Hadn't Expected Two Fruit Trees!

We went off to Milton Keynes on Thursday, for the Christian Resources Exhibition. We've attended CREXsince it began in the 1980s, at various venues. Mostly at Sandown Racetrack. But this was our first trip since the Pandemic, and this was a new venue. We left at 7am and the journey was slow

We hadn't realised there would be so many roadworks, including the resurfacing of the A421 which was completely flooded recently. The venue was the Marshall Arena, between the MK Don's Stadium, and a large Asda! 

There were fewer exhibitors this year. Lots of insurance companies. One lady invited me to look at her products for church and personal insurance. "and enter the prize draw to win £500 for your church". Well that would be useful for our little chapel... Except as I filled in the form, I realised that only Church of England churches were eligible. I put down the name of our village parish church instead. But I thought it was a bit odd. The Salvation Army Insurance guy gave me a keyring with a built in spirit level. "thank you, this is useful" I said. And he gave me another keyring "for bleeding' radiators" he said, and grinned at me. 

I bought Advent Calendars for the grandchildren but nothing else. Unlike the early years, there were very few freebies, although Bob got a folding stojo cup and a small video camera. One Innovative church heating company were giving away tiny fruit trees explaining "we didn't want to give out plastic things". Bob got a pear, I had an apple. I hope they will survive.

This is Roary the Lion. He was from a group which trains people about safeguarding, and how to protect vulnerable children and adults. I had a lovely chat with the rep - who commented that she felt that Baptists already had an excellent safeguarding programme in place, which was good to hear. I took a card anyway, to pass on to Bex, who does a great job at chapel sorting out our DBS checks etc. 

Here's Bob at the Tools With A Mission 

TWAM. I've mentioned them before. Bob wanted to talk more about how The Shed can work with them in their tool refurbishing projects. 

They do so much across the world - I learned that forty five people every day are able to find a livelihood using tools and training fro  TWAM. I commented on the big photo of the woman with her sewing machine. TWAM is involved with many projects round the globe helping women get educated, and learn sewing skills. As well as hammers, screwdrivers and drills, TWAM can use donated sewing and knitting paraphernalia. 

We left the Arena and walked across the Asda car park, to the adjacent IKEA. Meatballs for lunch, and a good mooch round. No, I didn't buy tealights - but I did get mustard sauce, crackers, and cinnamon rolls. 

We got home 12 hours after we left. A lovely day together. 

Posh Paints

I know that you get what you pay for, when it comes to decorating - and if you buy your housepaint in a discount store at rock bottom prices, it may not have the coverage of a better quality paint. And the range of colours may not be quite what you want. Our go-to mid-range paints for years have been Homebase [well, a huge bucket of blue, bought in a sale which we used in Leicester and here] and Wilko [sage green in the lounge, grey in the Futility Room, twine beige in the atrium, deep blue in the kitchen...]  and we have been very happy with the results.

But posh paints, that's a different matter. In Dorset, Farrow and Ball were situated close by on the Ferndown Industrial Estate. Labels saying Stiffkey Blue, Elephant Breath, String and other hi-faluting names were stuck on the elegant cans.

This week I was with Bob as he bought some varnish. I picked up the guide to Morris&Co paints. The guide has no prices in it - although, somewhat bizarrely it has a nice recipe for squash and feta salad, and a guide to making candles in their empty glass tester pots! Inky Fingers, Fired Biscuit, Ernest White...£45 a can

In a bucket by the door were sample rolls of Morris wallpaper labelled FREE. I don't need telling twice! I got a an 8' length of "Snakeshead' pattern, and 6' of "Marigold". I checked online. Full rolls cost between £118 and £139. So my bits were together equivalent to £55 ! Bob pointed out there was not enough to do even a feature wall. I said they would wrap some very classy presents, or make elegant dust jackets for books.

Then my National Trust magazine arrived.

I flicked through the pages after lunch "I've entered the free online competition in the National Trust magazine" I told Bob. "What do you win?" he asked. "Well first, you get an hour's consultation with a Little Greene man..." "What ?!?" he expostulated. I explained that it was the paint manufacturers and you were given advice, then got money off the L G products.

Bob was greatly relieved, he thought I'd said 'little green man'. I know the National Trust prides itself on its inclusivity. But this would be carrying things a bit far. Mind you, the paint colours would probably be "out of this world"

Death And Taxes

It is 235 years since Ben Franklin made this statement - most people only know the last seven words. It is not my place to comment on the US Constitution [but I can continue to pray for the upcoming elections] I have been seriously downsizing for 10 years since we left Leicester, and generally decluttering on and off for even longer.
Not quite ready for "Swedish Death Cleaning" yet! But taxes?
Having only worked part-time as a Supply Teacher for most of my career, averaging 2 days a week, there were hardly any years when I paid income tax. And I only get a small teaching pension. And due to a missing year of NI contributions, I don't quite get a full state pension. But it's just enough to tip me over the tax threshold. But it is all dealt with at source so that's fine, I don't do a self assessment.

But now I have my own  online shop.  I closed my Etsy shop - I was unhappy with their charges, and with the fact that many of their sellers now seem to be selling on stuff that they have clearly bought in, rather than made themselves.

The government has recently announced it is going to clamp down* on 'small traders' who might be omitting to pay their taxes. So I went online, The HMRC website is very helpful, with a simple questionnaire to fill in. As my turnover is well under the £1000 threshold, I neither need to register my business nor do a self assessment form. 
I thought it was worth mentioning this in a post because I know that quite a few of my blogfriends are crafters and make and sell their wares - and I would hate for any of you to get caught out with a fine.*They are apparently checking ads on social media etc. to see if there are people out there clearly doing a roaring trade but not acknowledging it.
My main issue at the moment is publicising 31:13 more effectively - because it isn't part of Etsy, it won't come up in searches. I need to get a review page set up on the site, and also explore other methods of publicity. 

If you have ever purchased from the site, and you blog or use Facebook, please can you give me a mention sometime? 

I will be very grateful [as will all the mice sitting patiently in the spare bedroom]

Thank you. 

Fall

 

So said Anne of Green Gables, adding "It would be terrible if we just skipped from September to November, wouldn't it?"
I think she makes a good point - September is the start of term, for many it is the beginning of a new year, or even new life as they move on in their studies.Full of hope and expectation. 
November combines the solemnity of remembrance, with the preparations for the festive season. The leaves have all fallen, and winter is well on its way.
October bridges the two - the harvests have been gathered, it is the middle of the autumn. Earth's bounty can be enjoyed.

I am not so sure about George Eliot's point of view. I think the turning of the seasons is wonderful, and to only celebrate one is rather limiting - Summer and Winter, Springtime and Harvest are all signs of God's faithfulness.

I do like this graphic which a friend posted on Facebook. I'm ok with nature walks, but not barefoot.  And I like nourishing drinks, but not 'yolky'
But most of the ideas on here I can go along with wholeheartedly.
Let us keep warm and keep well as winter approaches.

Round And Round With Rainbows...

 ...and Brownies. The challenge was to help nearly 30 girls aged 5- 10 to gain their sewing badge. Only 5 of them said they had done sewing before. 

To start with, I needed a fabric they could work with using plastic safety needles. I found some blue floral open weave  curtain fabric in my stash which was pure white on the back. 

Then I didn't want to be constantly rethreading needles with different colours, so I used a ball of bright multicolour dyed yarn which I've had years!

I cut out matching circles of red felt then used nappy liners to make teabags  lavender bags with my sewing machine. Pinking shears gave a opretty edeg and prevented fraying.

Their task was to do simple stitches on the white fabric - either at random, or running stitches, cross stitches, or some sort of pattern, entirely their choice!

I knotted one end of the wool, threaded the needle and knotted that  too, so nothing came adrift.The Rainbows produced somewhat haphazard designs.

The work of the older girls was a little more structured, with lines, circles and crosses.

The teenage helpers working with them were absolutely brilliant

They all had name tags which were tied on to their white circles. I brought them home and tacked them together with the red felt, popping a lavender bag inside, and attaching a ribbon for hanging.

The girls then used regular metal needles to sew round the edge and finish off the lavender sachets.

They will be able to hang them on their Christmas tree, or give them to Mum or Gran for a gift. They were quite amused when I said that when I was a little girl, everybody's gran kept a lavender sachet in her knicker drawer!

Next week they have a Special Event - so I am not back until 21st - when I have a one-off session and need to come up with a quick and easy idea. 

I think they have tried really hard with this, especially ones who have never wielded a needle before. "Miss, the thread has come out of my stick" "I can sew with proper fabric, but not with this stuff" "The way the stitches are all different colours. it's like magic!"

These sessions are rewarding,but utterly exhausting. I really admire the leaders and teenagers who give up every Monday night to work with them in the Village Hall.

Jabberwocky

Saturday was an interesting day. In the morning I had my covid jab, in the afternoon we both had flu jabs. I cannot believe how utterly different the two appointments were. 
Bob dropped me off at 9.55 outside the clinic in Dereham - he went off to do something else and we agreed to meet up in the library afterwards, just a little further down the High Street. I went inside, gave my name to the receptionist and stood waiting with all the other 'jabbees' - the 'jabber' was on the other side of the room behind movable screens. The jabbees were all very friendly and chatty. Which was probably a good thing, partly because the jabber had quite a loud voice, so her discussions were not exactly confidential - and partly because everything was running horribly late. 
My appointment was at 10, there were two others in the queue also booked for10. And another pair booked for 9.45! I WhatsApped Bob to warn Bob I'd be late. The room had insufficient chairs, and a bizarre slope in the floor. It made me feel quite queasy queuing along the wall. [nifty alliteration there!] and my heavy bag [containing library books, CS bag and my raincoat for the dry cleaners] had to go 2 feet in front of me, as it wouldn't balance on the slope. 

People kept arriving, and a chap with a stick asked if there were any more chairs. The receptionist found 2 more. Everybody seemed my age or older. "No! Esther Williams,"came a loud voice from behind the screen "like the swimmer!" The jabber had asked the jabbee to repeat her name. But the jabber was a young woman who had clearly never heard of this filmstar of the 1940s.[Why would she?] The conversation behind the screen continued. "She's very chatty" said the woman standing next to me.[it was now 10.15, the time for her appointment] I promised not to engage in any conversation other than answering basic questions, in the hope I would be in and out quickly. 

Bob WhatsApped me"I'm in the library waiting for you"At 10.25 I was called. "Why do you qualify for the flu jab?" she asked. I said I thought it was my age, I am 69. Then she asked for my date of birth, and other questions about my health. I nearly said "If you had asked for my dob first, you'd have realised I am old" but I didn't. She was concerned I had only had one previous jab. I said I contracted covid before lockdown, and since then have had every jab offered to me. She looked at my notes again and agreed I had. But that last time I had Pfizer and this time I was having Moderna. So she said that after my jab, I must stay in the waiting area for 5 minutes in case I have a reaction. She injected me [left arm] , thrust a leaflet* in my hand and called the next person in. I hung about for 3 minutes - it was gone 10.30 - then went off to drop off the drycleaning and CS bag en route to the Library. We came home, stopping to visit my brother en route, and enjoyed a cuppa. 

After lunch we walked together round to our village surgery arriving 5 minutes early. My appointment was 15.01pm. We checked in, and joined the queue of jabbees [loads of seats available if needed] My name was called almost immediately, I went to the front, got jabbed [right arm] and I walked home. Back by 15.04pm, Bob a few minutes later. So much more efficient. 

I was OK till 10pm when I went to bed. My left arm [covid] started aching like I'd been kicked by a horse. I felt nauseous, and alternately sweaty and shivery. Did not sleep at all. I've not reacted this badly before. I stayed in bed Sunday morning, Bob went to church via Zoom. Fortunately I felt much better by Sunday evening

Have you had flu or covid jabs - was it efficient , and are you ok? Keep well, everybody!
* I was confused, the leaflet was all about possible reactions to "SpikeVax" - the jabber never explained that was the name for the Moderna Vaccine which she'd given me. 

Beauty For Brokenness

Recently I met Mark Taylor, a hospital Chaplain. He told us he does a lot of work with teenagers who are in the psychiatric ward. On his days off, he likes to walk along the Norfolk beaches and pick up pieces of sea glass, which he keeps in a jar on his desk at work.

He told us he tips out these pebbles onto the desk, and invites these fragile young people to talk about them - the colour, shape, feel...He explains that these were once bottles, which got smashed, then were rolled about in the stones and sand by the waves as the tide comes and goes. It takes around 10 years for a broken shard of glass to become a frosted pebble. He says
IMAGINE what it feels like to have been valued and whole
IMAGINE what it feels like to have been thrown away, bashed about by the waves and storms of life
IMAGINE what it feels like to be lost on a beach, or in the depths of the oceans
AND THEN...ONE DAY...somebody finds you, picks you up, sees beauty in your brokenness - and treasures you for what you have become, not for what you once were.

He invites the young men and women to choose a pebble to take away with them after their conversation. Mark has written this powerful poem. I pray that these teenagers may be helped by his gentle words of affirmation.

SEA GLASS

I once was part of a vessel that was beautiful or useful

Yet I’ve been broken, dashed against the rocks,
        and tossed about by the waves

My brokenness, cracks and rough edges are worn smooth

Now I’m small and fragile,

        found by your searching eyes upon the shore

Once again I am a thing of beauty

        still fragile and vulnerable

Hold me in the safety of your hand,

        and see my beauty again

[Pastor Mark Taylor]

 

Chard Remains.

There is still a row of swiss chard plants growing happily in the raised bed. I usually serve them steamed with butter - but as we work towards the end of this year's harvest, I was looking for a different way of cooking with them. Kirsten's gift of a cookbook last week provided the answer. Thanks K

Nigel Slater's "Tender"  is a doorstop of a book, combining his love of growing vegetables with his skill in cooking them. More than 30 different veg, listed alphabetically. Each chapter has an introduction, a section on 'in the garden' [growing hints, and suggested varieties] and another 'in the kitchen' [notes on cooking, seasonings and accompaniments] followed by some recipes. All written in his glorious mouth watering prose, with lovely photographs.  

It came out in 2009 [long before I was bitten by the gardening bug] so you may find it going cheap on ebay, or on the bottom shelf in a CS somewhere.

There were 6 chard recipes - and I chose the soup. It was suitably filling for a cold day.

It was filling and 'earthy' but we both enjoyed it. Bob suggested a little more salt [I usually put in too little, and mutter that he adds too much!] and also some smoked paprika [a good idea imho]

I'd picked up some Morrisons Savers Cooking Bacon for £1 this week and it is good value, and a fair quality. I had no lemon or fresh mint to hand, and also used 'easy garlic' from the jar in the fridge. I used my own homemade stock. So it was all stuff I had on hand. 

Here's the recipe...

A SOUP OF LENTILS, CHARD AND BACON

Ingredients [serves 4]

·         1 large onion finely chopped

·         olive oil

·         4 cloves garlic thinly sliced

·         100 gr bacon/ pancetta diced

·         small bunch parsley roughly chopped

·         250 gr lentils [I used green ones]

·         1 litre stock vegetable or chicken, water also works

·         Large bunch of chard

·         Salt & pepper

·         1 lemon 

·         small bunch fresh mint 

Instructions – use a large pot

1.       Soften the onion in the oil over a low heat, add the garlic and chopped bacon. Stir in the parsley

2.       Wash the chard thoroughly, set aside 4 beautiful stalks and leaves. Chop stalks thoroughly, set leaves aside. Add stalks to onions and bacon, continue cooking

3.       Wash the lentils and stir them into the onions. Pour over the stock, bring to the boil. Add a bay leaf or two if you like. Turn the heat down, so the lentils simmer merrily, and almost cover with a lid. Leave till they are tender but far from collapse- about 30 mins depending on your lentils

4.       Tear the reserved leave up a bit, tip them into the soup. Steam the whole leaves till tender.

5.       Season with salt and pepper, lemon juice and mint leaves – tasting as you go. Serve in warmed bowls, add the steamed chard, and serve with more lemon and mint for those who want it.

Notes

I had no mint or fresh lemon – I added a teaspoon of mint sauce from the jar in the fridge, and a small finely chopped preserved lemon.It worked ok!

Bob suggested that when we eat the second half [it keeps up to 3 days in the fridge] I should add some smoked paprika to give it an extra flavour.

A Little More Decluttering

The final tally for the September declutter is rather haphazard

• As usual I located 1 bag to hold CS donations
• 2 pieces of open weave curtain fabric which I will never use because the pattern is dire, have been repurposed for the Brownies Sewing Badge [I am working with three dozen of them on Monday evenings] 
  
• there were 3 bits of a ballpoint pen in the bottom of my bag, but not all the bits needed to reassemble it. That was discarded 
• 4 cereal boxes I had been keeping 'just in case' have been cut up for the Toddler Group Craft Activity I am doing next week
• Looking for something in the Futility Room Cupboards, I found a box with 6 more jam jars [recycled]
• I did the summer/winter wardrobe sort- 7 garments really worn out, and binned, 8 have some life but don't fit, and have gone into the Charity Shop bag. The wardrobe is efficiently organised and I look forward to choosing co-ordinated autumn outfits
  
• More 'virtual decluttering' I tidied up my blogroll - and unfollowed than 20 blogs where nothing has been written since lockdown
• I tidied my email inbox too, and deleted around 50 messages which I really do not need to keep
• I unsubscribed from another 10 mailings
• I have contacted 4 charities who keep sending me literature [and raffle tickets I do not want to buy] and asked them to remove me from their mailing list

That's over 100 things - added to the previous 110 I have got rid of 200 plus real/virtual items

I am also trying to be more efficient about post - all those unwanted flyers go straight into the recycling bin without have a day or two languishing on the sideboard first.

I'm typing this at my pc and just looked at the chaotic pinboard on the wall in front of me.  That definitely needs to be attacked, as does the overflowing filing tray on my left. 

🎵"Don't stop me now, cos I'm having a good time, and I don't wanna stop at all"🎵

Winter Drawers On...

That's not a typo - every Autumn Grandad would say "It's turning cold" and Nana would reply "Winter drawers on!" then they'd have a daft discussion about underwear. Being born at the end of the Victorian era, Nana always referred to her knickers as "drawers"

In the 1800s a woman would wear two separate 'legs' which had a casing at the top and a tape to draw them together at the waist. Hence a pair of drawers. 

To this day, even though we wear just the one garment, we still refer to a pair of... [pants/knickers/briefs etc] *

The other mystery of 'old lady underwear' in my childhood were the adverts at the back of Woman's Weekly for Directoire Knickers - which I thought were directory knickers. 

 A single garment, usually pink, cream or peach coloured with legs elasticated just above the knee. After the Victorians, the Edwardians wore slimmer more fitted garments, not voluminous crinolines. Women wanted underwear which fitted closer to the body - especially when the "roaring twenties" came along. The name comes from the "directoire" - a neo-classical style popular in France [1795 to 1799] between the elaborate ornate style of Louis XVI and before the "Empire Style".

This style persisted through the war years, issued as part of the uniform for women in the forces. although the legs did get a bit shorter. By the early 60s many of us had to wear "PE knickers" which had elasticated legs [mine were hideous bottle green and itchy] and grannies still wore the peachy bloomers. My friend Jean always referred to them as "Harvest Festival Knickers" - because she said "All is safely gathered in"

But now so many styles abound, with different names...M&S offers full briefs, high cut, thongs, bikini briefs, Brazilian, no VPL, midi, Miami, shapewear, shorts, period knickers...My decluttering got a bit haphazard last week, but I did sort my knicker drawer. 

Mum and Auntie Peggy always insisted on decent pants

"In case you get knocked down by a bus". Cousin Gill and I suspected their mother had drummed this into them. We said that if we were unfortunate enough to be in such an accident, we did not want the medical team distracted by our attractive underwear! By the the children came along, and finances were tight, I kept my old white Sloggis till they were were repaired, and rather grey. And then one day sorting laundry, LIz lectured me about their parlous state. "Nobody sees me in them except your father  "Just because you have got your man, that does not excuse you wearing shabby underwear. Mum!" I really took that to heart, and have tried to wear better ones ever since. I have regularly bought new pants, and put them in the drawer, leaving the shabby ones underneath 'in case of an emergency'. What emergency is that? And I do not need twenty five pairs!  I have been ruthless - down to 18 pairs now, and those with weak elastic, holes and ladders, and uncomfortable gussets have gone in the bin. And I suspect others may follow. 
I did check the internet - it seems the average UK woman owns 25 pairs, and many sites recommend at least 14 so you have a clean pair daily for a fortnight. I appreciate sportswomen will wear more than one pair a day - after a run, or game of football, they'd want fresh undies. But I am more sedentary, less sweaty!

Worst ever pants - [1] the pack of seven 'days of the week' ones when I was 5. I got them in the wrong order, and realised one day I was wearing 'Wednesday' on 'Thursday' I was sure everyone in my class knew. [2] the paper disposable ones, in a pack of 3, bought from Etam in the early 70s. I pulled them up too fast and the elastic waistband completely came away!

Do you have any BRIEF comments?

*in Tudor times, upper garments were often two-piece, front and back, tied at the sides, and called 'a pair of bodies' - but that turned into the term 'bodice'

Harvest Mouse!

On Monday last, Bob and I were guests of our friends from Cowper Chapel at their Harvest Lunch. After some delicious fish and chips, there was a choice of gateau and ice cream, then tea and coffee. A simple meal, requiring minimal effort on the part of the group, with plenty of opportunity to sit and chat. Many of those present live alone, and appreciated enjoying food with good company, which they had not needed to prepare. I was providing the after-dinner entertainment, so I showed them one of my mice, and recited a favourite poem by John Betjeman. One which combines themes of Church, Harvest and mice. It was very well received. 

Not IHOP But IDOP

I know about IHOP [International House of Pancakes] Not yet international in the sense of having an outlet in the UK. That's probably a good thing for our nation's health...What's IDOP??It is International Day Of Older Persons. An initiative of the United Nations.

Here's an interesting 'infographic' about those of us who are 65+

One in six people globally are over 65 - and by 2041, that will be about 1 in 4. 

In 2018, the global population passed the historic milestone of 'more people over 65 than children under 5'

This year the theme is "Ageing with Dignity: The importance of strengthening care and support systems globally for those over 65"
Obviously this is an issue which is pretty important for me these days - and I know many of you reading this are also aged 60+. I'm also aware too  that many of my blogfriends who are yet to enter 'the third age' show care and concern of older members of their family or friendship circles. Thank you!

I am encouraged to read that one in four seniors is involved in some sort of volunteering [unpaid] activity to help others. Maybe formal stuff like Parish Councillors, Brownie-Guide Leaders, Hospital Visitors, etc - or more informal, caring for grandchildren, shopping for housebound neighbours, dogwalking etc. 

Know that while you have breath you can be useful. Auntie Peggy said [often] after Gill's death "I don't know why I am still here, I can't do very much. But I can pray for people as I sit here in my chair". She also telephoned people to encourage them, to remind them that she cared, to ask after their well-being. In her late nineties she was still a force for good.

Maybe we are a little slower than we used to be, and our eyesight, hearing and mobility are less than perfect. But we can all have the opportunity to share our experiences, and show love.

Today I shall try to visit someone even older than I am, and celebrate with them.

And maybe Grandad Bob will cook me pancakes for tea

The Plimsoll Line

What do you call them in your neck of the woods then? Plimsolls, gym shoes, daps, pumps, tennis shoes, rubbers, sandshoes, sneakers, trainers, tackies...  A lightweight canvas sports shoe with a rubber sole

My first plimsolls were black, with an elasticated gusset, so we could easily slip them on for PE at school [having first removed outer clothes, and were just in our vest and pants]
In the mid 19th C they were called sandshoes, but the coloured horizontal band joining the sole to the upper got them the nickname "Plimsoll" after the Load Line round a ship which had just been introduced 

If you got water above that line on your shoes, your feet would get wet!

At secondary school we had to have white plimsolls for tennis. Mine came from a bloke on Romford Market I think. Other people [with more money!] had 'proper' Dunlop Green Flash shoes. Worn at Wimbledon since 1929 [Fred Perry, three times champion wore them and won, three years in a row, 1934-1936] The ad on the left is 25 years old!

White plimsolls were back in fashion in 2021, and I treated myself to a pair from Muji. How bright and white they were when I got them. I have worn them a lot during the last three summers, with jeans, and with skirts. They are cool and comfortable. 

But now it is almost October, and they'll go away with my summer clothes till next Easter. They looked so grey and grubby last week. I have scrubbed them well with a mixture of Washing Powder and Vanish, and soaked the laces in more of the WP&V solution.

 I rinsed them and pegged them on the airer to dry.
I did not risk putting them through the washing machine in case they disintegrated! Clothes and shoes put into winter storage should be put away clean. Though I doubt these will ever regain their virgin purity!

Perhaps I should treat myself to a bottle of Cherry Blossom Sports Whitener. I remember Grandad watching some cricketers and muttering about their dirty shoes. In his day, every man kept his sports footwear [and parts of his army uniform too] pristine white with an application of Blanco...

How times have changed! My grandchildren wear shoes with velcro straps, and trainers you can run under the tap or put through the washing machine!!