...and immediately thought of my beloved
"Odd Job Bob" is such a wonderful title. If I were rich, I'd buy MY Bob a little van like this to transport all his stuff about. Although I'd have to modify the description a little.
How about
Apparently Bob is currently doing some sort of caption thing on his Facebook page [I am not into Facebook so cannot verify this]
...they were all together in one place. Suddenly a sound like the blowing of a violent wind came from heaven and filled the whole house where they were sitting. They saw what seemed to be tongues of fire that separated and came to rest on each of them. All of them were filled with the Holy Spirit...
...the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control. Against such things there is no law.
Those who belong to Christ Jesus have crucified the sinful nature with its passions and desires.
Since we live by the Spirit, let us keep in step with the Spirit.
Science in the afternoon- dandelions
The children were fascinated that the name comes from dent-de-lion [lion's tooth] because of the jagged edge of the leaves.
Apparently the name has been around in England for centuries, since the Normans. What I haven't worked out is when or why the French started calling in pissenlit for it's diuretic properties. Decided against telling the children that - but when someone asked a related question, I said "Well, in some countries they call it wet-the-bed"
When I got home from school on Friday, I took Bob over to the garage where his car was in for repair, then left him and drove to Cornerstones. Arrived at 7.30, had a cup of tea, then cut the grass till about 9pm. Went to bed with a book.
Saturday - up at 8, in the garden by 8.30am, more grass cutting...
The garden has a very healthy crop of dandelions. We know all about dandelions now, don't we children? How they have very long taproots which make them hard to shift!! And brilliant seedheads which disperse the seeds to make hundreds of new plants...
After six weeks without a mower the grass was really long.
The first cut is the deepest, as they say
As it was so early, some flowers had not opened...
I love the fact that the name daisy comes from day's eye because they open and shut with the sunlight. Next door's lilac tree was looking stunning.
Everything looked much better trimmed, and I did lots of weeding at the front too. I worked for nearly three hours!
The sun was getting hot, and I am not a gardener.
I have arranged with a neighbour that he is going to cut the grass for us from now on!
I had to stop eventually because the bin was full
It always feels strange being at Cornerstones on my own. I had decided that driving all that way simply to cut grass was a little uninspiring, so arranged to meet up with Chris for lunch.
As I left the village, I saw this sign
So parked and went in and got a dozen - from the very trusting people at the farm who leave eggs and money box out for customers to help themselves. [dozen - another non-metric measure!]
We enjoyed a lovely Carvery at the Hill House [thanks, Chris!] Then she and I pottered around the Market Place, where the Dereham Festival was in progress. Chris says the churches are doing a Songs Of Praise - I hope the weather is as good for them tomorrow as it has been today.
Clowns
Morris Men People
Music
Then I drove home, getting back at 4.45
Bob cooked sausages and mushrooms and garlic bread on the barbecue, and with a salad it made a lovely meal, eaten outside in the garden. I love summer time, and the sounds of the neighbours' children laughing and playing .
But all that driving and gardening has left me with aching muscles, in places I never knew I had muscles!
I confess I would much rather be one of the Ladies Who Lunch...
...than the Ladies Who Mulch!!
Over at French Village Life, ElizabethD recently posted about writing, and described herself as "A Scribbler at Heart"
It set me thinking about the way we write things down and how it has changed over the years.
A thousand different ways to write your message.
I have a whole pot of assorted writing implements on the desk in front of me as I type this.
But there is something lovely about writing the first words on a fresh sheet of paper, the first page of a pristine notebook, the new diary entry for January 1st.
I loathe the current trend for 'whiteboards and dry-wipe markers' in school. The children put down their answer, wave the board at me, then rub it off almost immediately [usually with their sleeve, or a grubby finger!] There is no sense of permanence for them, no compulsion to do it neatly.
For Marriage Certificates, Bob is required by law to use a fountain pen and Stephens Blue Black Ink - sadly the signatures often last longer than the marriages.
I love real handwriting. Like ElizabethD, I am a scribbler. But I have preferred tools for different tasks.
Crosswords - biro, Killer Sudoku - pencil, naming things - Sharpie markers, correspondence - rollerball or fountain pen.
And I am fond of random scribblings
But I don't write messages on my hand, or deface library books, or use marker pens to put graffiti on other people's property.
Writing is a precious gift and we should never take it for granted.
In the beginning was The Word...
...and they will probably metricate it!
Today is World Metrology Day. According to the Website
"During World Metrology Day more than eighty States celebrate the impact of measurement on our daily life, no part of which is untouched by this essential, and largely hidden, aspect of modern society. Previous themes have included topics such as measurements in sport, the environment, medicine, and trade. The 2010 theme concentrates on how measurement influences science and stimulates innovation. As the world strives to move on from its recent financial problems, and as Governments work to regenerate economies, we shall find that science and technology are the engines of economic growth and prosperity. These, in turn, rely on being able to measure correctly and to refer measurements to the same international reference standards. A world without accurate measurement is a world where science, technology, trade and society can’t communicate and where error and uncertainty would reign supreme."
I freely admit to being an utter Luddite about measurements- to the despair of my physicist spouse!
I love the poetry of the names of the old Imperial measurements - all those deci/milli/centi units just cannot compare with
the ell, the fathom, the cubit, the pennyweight, the bushel
not to mention rod, pole and perch, as well as carats and grains
Can you imagine John Wayne putting on a 37.85 litre hat
Or the Proclaimers declaring they would "Walk 804.7 km"
Let's hear Doris Day singing a song from Guys and Dolls
I love you 25 kg and 8810 cc -
25 kg and 8810 cc -
and a hug around ...the knee?
[OK, maybe for a short wife with a tall husband that is feasible]
The biblical instructions for the Ark and the Temple were all in cubits
... and Jesus said
Give, and it shall be given unto you; good measure, pressed down, and shaken together, and running over, shall men give you For with the same measure that ye mete withal it shall be measured to you again
...that doesn't sound much like SI Units to me!
This is from this weeks "Innocent News" [ see here]
bobs...
This week’s Bob of the Week is Liz’s dad. To his parishioners, he is Pastor Bob, but in leather clad outlaw circles, he’s known as Biker Bob. Here he is, wondering where to hang the weekly shop.
What a responsibility, being married to such a famous chap! Well done, Liz, for successfully nominating your father. We are all very proud of him.
Live Simply
Love Generously
Care Deeply
Speak Kindly
Leave the rest to God.
As far as I can ascertain, this quote is attributed to President Ronald Reagan. It reminds me of Micah 6:8.
The picture is " Girl reading in the Orangerie" by Charles Perugini, on display in the Manchester Art Gallery. Don't you just love her pensive expression as she ponders on her book?
According to recent reports in the news, sales of cauliflowers have slumped by 35% in the last decade. 5% in the last year alone. The Brassica Growers Association is worried, and have launched the "Love Your Greens" campaign
I hardly ate broccoli at all as a child, but now it is everywhere.
Cabbage on the other hand...I ate platefuls of the stuff, having been told it would make me grow taller [note to elderly relatives - all those crusts didn't make my hair curl either]
Oh! poor sensitive little thing - and now it is feeling ignored at the greengrocers too!
But you can buy teeshirts
[see here]
**Back in the last century, I remember BMS Summer School Coach Trips where we would sing this to the tune of Frere Jacques
Life is butter, life is but a
Melancholy flower, melancholy flower
Life is but a melon, life is but a melon
Cauliflower, cauliflower
I shall be humming that all day now!
Last Thursday was Ascension Day, which meant the start of well-Dressing Week in Tissington, Derbyshire. Three different people told me over the weekend that they had been and it was superb - so this morning as the sun was shining, we had an early breakfast then climbed on the bike and set off.
A lovely ride, up through the villages, avoiding the M1. i began to get a little edgy somewhere near Ashbourne, with loads of signs saying "Think Bike" and "To Die For" and "Five bikers have been killed or injured near this spot" and then"Eighteen bikers have been killed near this spot". Then it started raining! Bob was riding extremely carefully around 10am we got to Tissington. Large signs informed us we needed to use the carpark on the edge of the village [cars £1, coaches £2]
Nervous readers omit these next two paragraph.
"Can I pay when we have parked?" I asked. "Oh yes, pay John" Then Bob said "Is there hard standing where we can park safely?" "Oh yes, near John at the bottom of the field, he is waving his flag. Go between the tapes" [we saw chap with huge flag of St George signalling to us] Bob rode gingerly across the large sloping grass field. I felt like Steve McQueen at the end of Great Escape. I don't do off road biking!
Confident that the guy with St George flag was probably English and not a Nazi, we rode towards him. The grass at the bottom of the field was very wet, and when Bob braked [despite incredible care and attention] the bike went over. In this situation, I usually just hang on and wait to hit the ground! Bob was OK, the bike lost a chunk of the mirror housing, and I bashed my elbow hard. But nothing serious. Flag Man kept saying "Just lay there Madam, do not try and stand up. Stay there please!" He and Bob lifted up the bike and moved it onto the path. I started to move. "Just lay there Madam, do not try and stand up. Stay there please!" he repeated. [but the grass is cold and wet, and I want to stand up!] "Bob!" I called. "No, wait till Bob gets here and we will lift you up together" said Flag Man. [Is there something they aren't telling me? has my leg dropped off? is there blood running down my face?] Bob came over and yanked me unceremoniously to my feet [relief! I must be OK then!] The [horrified] Flag Man muttered into his walkie-talkie, and then suggested we could park carefully within the village. so we did.
We parked mear the Village Hall and after a reviving cup of tea and the biggest Danish Pastry I have ever eaten we wandered round looking at the wells. They are amazingly detailed - this tradition has been going in this village since the drought of 1615 [when thousands of cattle perished in the country - but the wells of Tissington never dried up] Since then, the villagers have had an annual Thanksgiving Service and decorated their wells.
The frames are made of wood and soaked in the village pond. They are laid flat, and then coated with damp clay [dug locally] the pattern is traced out, and then the outlines marked out with alder cones or coffee beans. Then the designs are filled in, with leaves, seeds, lentils and overlapping petals [again from local flowers] Then the frames are raised upright and placed round the wells in the village.
Most of the wells have a biblical theme
It is the centenary of this lady's death this year
The village schoolchildren did this one
You can see the coffee beans edging Noah's robe.
The colours were amazing.
This is called the Coffin well because of the shape of the well below it.
One young lady made her own petalled plaque to display against the garden gate
How's this for a butcher's van!
Creative use for worn out boots
The Joiner's House
And the House Next Door!
Tissington Hall, home of the FitzHerbert family for over 500 years. The Estate owns the village and has a policy of offering property at reasonable rents to local people in order to maintain a sense of community. There was definitely a sense of local pride, and commitment to this Annual Event.
We stopped to sit down in the Methodist Chapel where the Open Air Mission were showing a DVD about "The Making and The Message Of Well- Dressing"
I was very amused by the Car Parking Sign for the Disabled Car Park. Some how the spelling error made it seem very Jane -Austenesque!
We were back on the road soon after 11.30 and rode into Ashbourne for a snack lunch at Spencers The Bakers.
Two bikers sitting outside recommended the Biker's Breakfast, so Bob chose that. It was...substantial.
We came home via the Denby Visitor Centre [website here] as I have always wanted to go there. We just looked round the shops, didn't do the Pottery Tour this time.
There were lots of bargains to be had - but I resisted them.
The last bargain we bought was a yellow trug, and look where that got me!
Home by 3pm for a cup of tea.
The well dressing in Tissington lasts till Wednesday 19th - but throughout the county there are events till September [calendar here]
This year, Christian Aid week has been focusing on clean water for Africa and we thought about that in church yesterday. It is too easy for us to take for granted the fact that in this country we have had inexpensive healthy water supplies for hundreds of years. Today was a good reminder of that.
Just noticed my elbow is going purple. I shall go and rub some of ElizabethD's Arnigel on it.
Not my usual Sunday afternoon activity, but I think this comes under the category of "Ox Fallen Into A Pit And Other Crises" [see Luke 14:5]
A young friend at church unexpectedly needed a costume [genie pants] so on getting home from church, I went up into the loft with a purple trug and collected some bits from the Great Stash
The pattern, from 1970, cost 6/- [that's 30p to you young 'uns!]
I ironed my fabric, and carefully made a 1½" pleat down the middle, [ie folding 3" out of the way] and pinned it, before I put the pattern piece on top.
2 - the picture below is from the Internet, as I only discovered when I had finished that my picture of the pattern piece had not come out!
Lay your pattern on the doubled fabric, and cut 
Sew the front and back seams, then the inner leg seam. Sew A casing along the waist and others round the ankles. Thread with elastic. I used a piece 24" long and two pieces 8" long. Sew a couple of bits of tape or ribbon at the waist for hanging purposes.
I also wrote "front" and "back" inside the waistband - with pants this baggy it isn't always obvious.
That's it! Because they are baggy, fit isn't too crucial, and extra length will be accommodated by the elasticated ankle. If they prove extremely too long at the fitting, I shall just shorten them with a quick pleat all round at ankle level.
One hour from stash to blog - that's not bad going!! and Bob is still watching the Grand Prix [Jensen Button's car has overheated!]
