Well it is a windy night!
Football on tv and lots of large paper things blowing around the pitch - frustrating that I can't see precisely what these objects are. But not that solid or players would be tripping up and falling over, more often.
We are getting to that stage in the Christmas and New Year holiday when I find each day merging into the next. Only the leftovers in the fridge serve as a clue to the number of elapsed days since Christmas. And the lack of snack food suggests it's not quite Hogmany yet.
Venturing out to the sales today, I met or saw more people I know than at an average party I might attend, or even host myself. What is it about the 'January' sales that propels us sheep-like to the stores to buy or browse? I managed just over an hour of, quite successful if frantic, shopping. Managed to spend nearly all the gift card my husband gave me, and despite the closure of changing rooms 'to prevent queues building up', everything fits and won't need to be returned. Whoopee!
What on earth are Markies thinking of closing the changing rooms? Surely that just means that there will be more lines of frustrated shoppers returning goods in the coming weeks. Or will they all be as successful as me?
Anyway, that's about as exciting as it gets for me just now. Sales shopping for an hour. And a visit to the vet with the elderly cat.
That and flicking through the latest Trailfinders brochure which came through the door today. Salivating over the sumptuous holidays on offer, I thought about circling all the holidays I want to go on before my inevitable demise. Rather too few possible years of major global travel left really....and rather too many places left that I want to visit. And the husband and I don't always agree entirely on destinations either. Plus I don't have a bottomless supply of dosh to hand to pay for said ambitious travel.
First and Business class travel from only.....£megabucks...oh well, I can but dream.
And continue to spend my hand earned cash in the January Sales.
Wednesday, 28 December 2011
Sunday, 10 July 2011
Another wet Sunday
I have seriously done nothing today....
Well, I got up, attempted to hang out washing as the rain started. Abandoned said hanging and retreated inside.
I started peeking at Facebook, Twitter and the like. And time was eaten away. If ever there was a time wasting activity designed to remove hours of your life in a flash - is must be hovering on social networks.
So then I decided to make a movie from old clips and images of the cats....another thieving activity, stealing hours of my life away and producing - a one minute naff clip of cats.
In between times I did make a full Sunday roast which rendered everyone totally helpless for the remainder of the day.
A contrasting day to last evening when we had two police cars and an ambulance in Woodcroft Gardens. Transpires that the lad next door's pal decided to drink too much and threaten to kill his step father. Not the kind of behaviour you expect in Woodcroft Gardens which is more Wisteria Lane than Coronation Street. Mind you, even drape tugging Wisteria Lane has had its fair share of action over the years. Although I have to say I detect a decline into the absurd which seems to happen to every great drama series to come out of the US eventually. But no sign of alien invasion yet.
Which reminds me, when is the 5th series of Mad Men going to happen? I really hope it does enjoy a similar run to Desperate Housewives, although I suppose just stopping when on a high is a good thing.
But please don't. It is on the verge of the 70s, my very own decade of misspent youth, and although I found the 60s episodes fantastic viewing, I was in NYC in the 70s - so I would dearly love to re-live those days via the marvellously recreated authenticity that is Mad Men.
Oh, it appears that blogging has now wasted a few more minutes of my life that will never return.
Unlike the rain. Battering on the conservatory roof again.....
Well, I got up, attempted to hang out washing as the rain started. Abandoned said hanging and retreated inside.
I started peeking at Facebook, Twitter and the like. And time was eaten away. If ever there was a time wasting activity designed to remove hours of your life in a flash - is must be hovering on social networks.
So then I decided to make a movie from old clips and images of the cats....another thieving activity, stealing hours of my life away and producing - a one minute naff clip of cats.
In between times I did make a full Sunday roast which rendered everyone totally helpless for the remainder of the day.
A contrasting day to last evening when we had two police cars and an ambulance in Woodcroft Gardens. Transpires that the lad next door's pal decided to drink too much and threaten to kill his step father. Not the kind of behaviour you expect in Woodcroft Gardens which is more Wisteria Lane than Coronation Street. Mind you, even drape tugging Wisteria Lane has had its fair share of action over the years. Although I have to say I detect a decline into the absurd which seems to happen to every great drama series to come out of the US eventually. But no sign of alien invasion yet.
Which reminds me, when is the 5th series of Mad Men going to happen? I really hope it does enjoy a similar run to Desperate Housewives, although I suppose just stopping when on a high is a good thing.
But please don't. It is on the verge of the 70s, my very own decade of misspent youth, and although I found the 60s episodes fantastic viewing, I was in NYC in the 70s - so I would dearly love to re-live those days via the marvellously recreated authenticity that is Mad Men.
Oh, it appears that blogging has now wasted a few more minutes of my life that will never return.
Unlike the rain. Battering on the conservatory roof again.....
Wednesday, 22 June 2011
Far far away....
I remember singing this in primary school so, sometime in the 1960s. Loved it and have wanted to go to Dubrovnik ever since...or at least the Adriatic.
I nearly got to the then Yugoslavia in 1973 when onInter Rail* before one of the 4 girls travelling fell off the train at Trieste. We spent the day trying to 'spring' her from the Italian hospital she had been imprisoned in - only to have to miss out our day trip beyond the 'Iron Curtain'. We couldn't go to stay as one of the 4 didn't have insurance for an 'Iron Curtain' country. The remaining 3 of us did. What was the problem? What was going to happen to us in an 'Iron Curtain' country that meant that we'd have to claim insurance anyway...???
So nearly 40 years on - I'm getting to draw back the Iron Curtain (which is no longer there) and visit. In September this year I will at long last see the pearly Adriatic.
Far far away is my pearly Adriatic
Far far away, my pretty island home
Far far away is my lovely Isabella
Far far away from her I must roam
For I'm a sailor
Sailing right across the ocean
Tossed by the billows
Tossed by the foam
Chirry chirry birry I'm a sailor
Chirry chirry birry I'm a sailor
Chirry chirry birry I'm a sailor
Sailing away from home
(Ok it is cheesy and completely wrong that small girls dressed in kilts sang this.....but it was 1960-something)
*Inter Rail: Unlimited travel by train for a month for £39 in 1973. We all did it that summer. We got so blase about meeting people we knew unexpectedly in locations across Europe that we actually ignored a love rival of my best friend's outside Venice Youth Hostel - we couldn't talk to her...oh no! Pal Jill had literally stolen her boyfriend on the 3 legged pub crawl that year. But that's an entirely different story! And when we passed two incredulous Aberdeen lads (ex-boyfriends actually) in Florence station while hurrying to catch our train, we just waved and went 'hi'. Their jaws dropped as they raced after us with 'amazing', 'wow - what a coincidence' 'gee' (but beginning with 'f') we just said 'yeah, whatever, can't stop got a train to catch. See ya'.
I nearly got to the then Yugoslavia in 1973 when on
So nearly 40 years on - I'm getting to draw back the Iron Curtain (which is no longer there) and visit. In September this year I will at long last see the pearly Adriatic.
Far far away is my pearly Adriatic
Far far away, my pretty island home
Far far away is my lovely Isabella
Far far away from her I must roam
For I'm a sailor
Tossed by the billows
Tossed by the foam
Chirry chirry birry I'm a sailor
Chirry chirry birry I'm a sailor
Chirry chirry birry I'm a sailor
Sailing away from home
(Ok it is cheesy and completely wrong that small girls dressed in kilts sang this.....but it was 1960-something)
Sunday, 5 June 2011
Time to dream
I had a vivid dream last night.
That means I must have slept pretty well - something I don't seem to get much of these days.
I was at Disneyland or Disneyworld, however in true dream fashion it wasn't really Disney...
While waiting in line to get in - the queue stretching down a town high street and the entrance being much like a small cinema - customers could get on the free roller coaster ride over the whole park. I really felt like I was on a roller coaster. It was exhilarating but so scary I had to keep my eyes closed most of the time. Well, they were closed since I was, in reality, asleep. I seemed to know this in my dream. Then I realised I didn't have the safety belt on. That's a pest, I thought. I might fall out.
I can't really remember the rest. Dreams are like that and very annoying for it. At the time, you have very real experiences which seem to make some sort of sense. Then when you wake up, you barely remember and can only grasp at small snatches of feelings and memories. They are odd.
I have often thought that dreaming is like database maintenance. Databases get a bit out of synch from time to time if they are not routinely 'cleansed' of some of the messy bits that get in the way of normal functioning. Sleep seems to have the same effect on the brain. The oddness of dreams mirrors the messy entries in a database that hasn't been through database maintenance routines. When we are sleeping we re-order some of the experiences and memories we have and sort them in to neater virtual piles, ready to recall when required. But this happens at a completely unconscious level.
Are we really just mega-computers that someone else invented? Are our brains just a mix of data and software, which was programmed thousands of years ago and which became self perpetuating? With the 'internet of things' taking our use of the internet to a new level it seems that practically anything is possible. Even true psychic behaviour. Are mediums just tuned into a pre-historic internet via their own personal wifi network?
Hmm. Perhaps.
That means I must have slept pretty well - something I don't seem to get much of these days.
I was at Disneyland or Disneyworld, however in true dream fashion it wasn't really Disney...
While waiting in line to get in - the queue stretching down a town high street and the entrance being much like a small cinema - customers could get on the free roller coaster ride over the whole park. I really felt like I was on a roller coaster. It was exhilarating but so scary I had to keep my eyes closed most of the time. Well, they were closed since I was, in reality, asleep. I seemed to know this in my dream. Then I realised I didn't have the safety belt on. That's a pest, I thought. I might fall out.
I can't really remember the rest. Dreams are like that and very annoying for it. At the time, you have very real experiences which seem to make some sort of sense. Then when you wake up, you barely remember and can only grasp at small snatches of feelings and memories. They are odd.
I have often thought that dreaming is like database maintenance. Databases get a bit out of synch from time to time if they are not routinely 'cleansed' of some of the messy bits that get in the way of normal functioning. Sleep seems to have the same effect on the brain. The oddness of dreams mirrors the messy entries in a database that hasn't been through database maintenance routines. When we are sleeping we re-order some of the experiences and memories we have and sort them in to neater virtual piles, ready to recall when required. But this happens at a completely unconscious level.
Are we really just mega-computers that someone else invented? Are our brains just a mix of data and software, which was programmed thousands of years ago and which became self perpetuating? With the 'internet of things' taking our use of the internet to a new level it seems that practically anything is possible. Even true psychic behaviour. Are mediums just tuned into a pre-historic internet via their own personal wifi network?
Hmm. Perhaps.
Sunday, 29 May 2011
Rankin Reunion
Well, we had a lovely day on 28th May 2011!
Over 60 members of the Rankin family, all direct descendants of Harry and Elizabeth Rankin and their various partners and others gathered in the Royal George Hotel in Perth for a sit down lunch, some face painting and crafts for the children and lots of chat for the adults.
We started a little chaotically - the hotel had set tables for 8, Joyce had seating plans for 9 per table so after a bit of jiggery pokery we got the seating sorted out. The family filed into the dining room and started milling around, looking for their seats and checking out the old photos on display which kept everyone amused while we waited for the latecomers.
Once we were all in place, the lunch was served! And I have to compliment the hotel on a really excellent meal and very good value at that.
Car parking was a challenge and so some of us had to nip out between courses to move the cars and feed the meters. I got back just in time for my sticky toffee pudding!
The major challenge of the afternoon was the photo call, and I ended up just shouting to get everyone in place. The location was not ideal but we got a couple of decent shots finally.
After much chat and catching up, we headed home. I was exhausted but thankful for such a large and entertaining family. We are an interesting bunch the descendants of Harry and Elizabeth Rankin - they would have approved of the gathering and would have enjoyed being there. Papa would no doubt have made a wee speech too.
We can hope they were there in spirit watching over us all.
Over 60 members of the Rankin family, all direct descendants of Harry and Elizabeth Rankin and their various partners and others gathered in the Royal George Hotel in Perth for a sit down lunch, some face painting and crafts for the children and lots of chat for the adults.
We started a little chaotically - the hotel had set tables for 8, Joyce had seating plans for 9 per table so after a bit of jiggery pokery we got the seating sorted out. The family filed into the dining room and started milling around, looking for their seats and checking out the old photos on display which kept everyone amused while we waited for the latecomers.
Once we were all in place, the lunch was served! And I have to compliment the hotel on a really excellent meal and very good value at that.
Car parking was a challenge and so some of us had to nip out between courses to move the cars and feed the meters. I got back just in time for my sticky toffee pudding!
The major challenge of the afternoon was the photo call, and I ended up just shouting to get everyone in place. The location was not ideal but we got a couple of decent shots finally.
After much chat and catching up, we headed home. I was exhausted but thankful for such a large and entertaining family. We are an interesting bunch the descendants of Harry and Elizabeth Rankin - they would have approved of the gathering and would have enjoyed being there. Papa would no doubt have made a wee speech too.
We can hope they were there in spirit watching over us all.
 | |
| All of us finally in place We think the final tally of attendees was as follows:
|
Sunday, 15 May 2011
Extreme music
Well some might say I have an eclectic musical taste. I do like music and there are some phrases and riffs and passages of music that really do make the hairs on my arms stand up!
And then there is Eurovision...
What a load of mind-numbingly banal music that was - but I still watched it, even cheered on Jedward, Blue and Sweden (lovely looking boys) which I drew in the sweepstake at work. In the end it was a close call and Sweden were pipped from their 2nd place by the last vote, moving them into third and me into £5 position. Oh well, at least I came out better off with my £1 stake.
Husband meantime was in Glasgow at the SECC seeing Rush in their Time Machine tour. A great gig by all accounts - and I would have probably quite liked it - but somehow Rush passed me by - think I was just too old when they were in their heyday - although according to the husband they are all as ancient (or more so) than me.
Last week I envied those who were at the O2 on Thursday...David Gilmour and Nick Mason joined Roger Waters for a special guest appearance during his Wall tour. And it's likely the only appearance they will do, more's the pity. I have seen 2 clips of the gig - both Comfortably Numb and although the professional one is undoubtedly best in terms of musical quality, the amateur one taken on someone's phone captures the incredulity and disbelief of the frenzied crowd at the moment Gilmour appeared on top of the Wall. Wonderful!
Well tonight we have another gig - this time PF tribute band BritFloyd who, by all accounts, do a very good attempt at the real thing. We won't see them all again - ever now - since Richard Wright is no longer with us - but a tribute band who really do pay tribute well will be a good enough second best.
Of course nothing will ever beat that night in June 1973 when I saw the real deal in Roosevelt Stadium in New Jersey. Dark Side of the Moon - heard for the first time in a bit of a haze from the cocktail of alcohol and other substances which prevailed at the time. Not a lot - but enough to make the memory a bit woozy. My only clear memory is of lying on the field - we had plenty room, and these young men were not that far away on the stage. All had long hair then. The light show was the best of its kind back then and the music as sweet and as fresh as any truly great music heard for the very first time. We were a motley assortment of me (Scottish) and Italian, American and I think a French student too. On the way back to NYC on the train I remember us all just sitting looking at each other and replaying the concert in our heads - hardly a word passed our lips. How I got back to Mamaroneck goodness knows - I think it was really late - possibly 6 in the morning. I was just in when Dad Bondy came down to get something out of the fridge. "Your pupils are very large..." he said. I guess he knew I'd had a good time!
Well - actually - that remains the best gig of my life.
And then there is Eurovision...
What a load of mind-numbingly banal music that was - but I still watched it, even cheered on Jedward, Blue and Sweden (lovely looking boys) which I drew in the sweepstake at work. In the end it was a close call and Sweden were pipped from their 2nd place by the last vote, moving them into third and me into £5 position. Oh well, at least I came out better off with my £1 stake.
Husband meantime was in Glasgow at the SECC seeing Rush in their Time Machine tour. A great gig by all accounts - and I would have probably quite liked it - but somehow Rush passed me by - think I was just too old when they were in their heyday - although according to the husband they are all as ancient (or more so) than me.
Last week I envied those who were at the O2 on Thursday...David Gilmour and Nick Mason joined Roger Waters for a special guest appearance during his Wall tour. And it's likely the only appearance they will do, more's the pity. I have seen 2 clips of the gig - both Comfortably Numb and although the professional one is undoubtedly best in terms of musical quality, the amateur one taken on someone's phone captures the incredulity and disbelief of the frenzied crowd at the moment Gilmour appeared on top of the Wall. Wonderful!
Well tonight we have another gig - this time PF tribute band BritFloyd who, by all accounts, do a very good attempt at the real thing. We won't see them all again - ever now - since Richard Wright is no longer with us - but a tribute band who really do pay tribute well will be a good enough second best.
Of course nothing will ever beat that night in June 1973 when I saw the real deal in Roosevelt Stadium in New Jersey. Dark Side of the Moon - heard for the first time in a bit of a haze from the cocktail of alcohol and other substances which prevailed at the time. Not a lot - but enough to make the memory a bit woozy. My only clear memory is of lying on the field - we had plenty room, and these young men were not that far away on the stage. All had long hair then. The light show was the best of its kind back then and the music as sweet and as fresh as any truly great music heard for the very first time. We were a motley assortment of me (Scottish) and Italian, American and I think a French student too. On the way back to NYC on the train I remember us all just sitting looking at each other and replaying the concert in our heads - hardly a word passed our lips. How I got back to Mamaroneck goodness knows - I think it was really late - possibly 6 in the morning. I was just in when Dad Bondy came down to get something out of the fridge. "Your pupils are very large..." he said. I guess he knew I'd had a good time!
Well - actually - that remains the best gig of my life.
The clip from someone's mobile phone!
Sunday, 8 May 2011
Raining again
Well it's Sunday and it's raining. Cue for a lazy day and that's just what I have had.
The list of things I should be doing goes like this:
Lazy Sunday? Aye, right!
The list of things I should be doing goes like this:
- Shopping - yuk I hate food shopping when I'm not hungry - and I can't be bothered getting wet and getting lots of bags out of the car and unpacking them.
- Ironing - the ironing will probably get done - it's the putting things away I hate. I wish someone would invent something that could just hold the ready ironed clothes intact and magic them into a wardrobe or drawer somewhere.
- Unpacking the unsold car boot sale junk from the back of the car - well, it's raining. So I can't do that can I?
- Watering the plants - thankfully the rain is doing that for me - but actually I do have to water the tomato plants in the greenhouse, so I'll probably do that.
- Hoovering - or more precisely Dysoning - need to do that as the stairs are a mess. There's no carpet on them just now but the carpet comes to get laid this week so I'd better make sure it doesn't get laid on a layer of fluff, grit and grime.
Lazy Sunday? Aye, right!
Sunday, 27 March 2011
Wow
Finally finished watching The Social Network and am still reeling from wonder at the superlative intellect of the guy - and the sheer madness of what he did.
Amazing. And so I have had an evening of social networking - Facebook, twitter, now blogging. I have surfed and browsed and found some really cool stuff. I had my smile traced by my web cam and it will go down the line to some guy (or girl) at MIT to be analysed. The result of the smile test- I smile apparently.
I gave my husband an iPad (old one) for his birthday and he's already addicted. All night the two of us have been on our respective machines doing whatever.
This is becoming the world we live in - not the real world. What will happen and where will it all end? I'm having a Matrix moment....
What can the next 'big thing' possibly be? Connected tv is supposed to be - but that's been coming for years so it's not exactly a new thought.
When I spoke to some students the other day, I joked that the next big thing was reality - really meeting people, really talking to people and really living.
Is that a possibility or just a pipe dream?
BTW why is it that people who tweet and blog in particular have to describe themselves as something really pretentious? Usually involving words like zeitgeist - what's that all about? Pretentious? Moi? Mais non!
Amazing. And so I have had an evening of social networking - Facebook, twitter, now blogging. I have surfed and browsed and found some really cool stuff. I had my smile traced by my web cam and it will go down the line to some guy (or girl) at MIT to be analysed. The result of the smile test- I smile apparently.
I gave my husband an iPad (old one) for his birthday and he's already addicted. All night the two of us have been on our respective machines doing whatever.
This is becoming the world we live in - not the real world. What will happen and where will it all end? I'm having a Matrix moment....
What can the next 'big thing' possibly be? Connected tv is supposed to be - but that's been coming for years so it's not exactly a new thought.
When I spoke to some students the other day, I joked that the next big thing was reality - really meeting people, really talking to people and really living.
Is that a possibility or just a pipe dream?
BTW why is it that people who tweet and blog in particular have to describe themselves as something really pretentious? Usually involving words like zeitgeist - what's that all about? Pretentious? Moi? Mais non!
Tuesday, 22 March 2011
Muddled words
Today I confused two perfectly innocent words: 'novellist' and 'novice'. They are similar. They even share 5 of their letters. And they do sound quite similar.
However their meanings are quite different. Quite dissimilar in fact. They are really not to be confused at all.
And yet I confused them. I didn't actually confuse them in print or while talking to someone. I was just trying to use 'novice' and I couldn't for the life of me recall the word - 'novellist' was stuck in my brain and no amount of shoving could move it.
I had to ask for help and it was immediately to hand - thankfully - so I didn't have to puzzle over something I knew that I knew - but yet didn't know, or at least not for long.
This whole episode got me worrying and wondering. Worrying that I might be going senile and wondering about the linkages in my brain that seemingly do still work perfectly well, to a greater degree.
Senility does scare me. I have nursed the senile demented while working at Cornhill Hospital and, in the lowly position I occupied, the indignity and horror of losing one's mind was all too unpleasantly apparent. I loved working there. But it was not rewarding in the sense of making a difference. The basic work that I did, as the lowest level on the Nursing rung, kept the patients clean and fed and that's about it. Interaction was minimal, attempted though it was. The horror for me now, remembering those days, is in the sheer number of people afflicted and so disabled. The mind is not just the body's soul but the body's engine too. By losing it you lose who and what you are.
Research into this frightful disease is finding new causes and treatments all the time and there is hope for the near miss baby boomers like me. In another decade or two there might be real progress, just in the nick of time for yours truly.
Meantime, I'll have to practice my words. Maybe I should do some homework on a number of words a night - like they do (or did) in primary school to broaden vocabulary, or in my case, to attempt to preserve it.
I do hope I am not going senile. Although really to be pragmatic - I probably will. Meantime I'll keep taking the Ginko Biloba and Omega 3 and hope to keep it at bay until they discover how to prevent it for good!
However their meanings are quite different. Quite dissimilar in fact. They are really not to be confused at all.
And yet I confused them. I didn't actually confuse them in print or while talking to someone. I was just trying to use 'novice' and I couldn't for the life of me recall the word - 'novellist' was stuck in my brain and no amount of shoving could move it.
I had to ask for help and it was immediately to hand - thankfully - so I didn't have to puzzle over something I knew that I knew - but yet didn't know, or at least not for long.
This whole episode got me worrying and wondering. Worrying that I might be going senile and wondering about the linkages in my brain that seemingly do still work perfectly well, to a greater degree.
Senility does scare me. I have nursed the senile demented while working at Cornhill Hospital and, in the lowly position I occupied, the indignity and horror of losing one's mind was all too unpleasantly apparent. I loved working there. But it was not rewarding in the sense of making a difference. The basic work that I did, as the lowest level on the Nursing rung, kept the patients clean and fed and that's about it. Interaction was minimal, attempted though it was. The horror for me now, remembering those days, is in the sheer number of people afflicted and so disabled. The mind is not just the body's soul but the body's engine too. By losing it you lose who and what you are.
Research into this frightful disease is finding new causes and treatments all the time and there is hope for the near miss baby boomers like me. In another decade or two there might be real progress, just in the nick of time for yours truly.
Meantime, I'll have to practice my words. Maybe I should do some homework on a number of words a night - like they do (or did) in primary school to broaden vocabulary, or in my case, to attempt to preserve it.
I do hope I am not going senile. Although really to be pragmatic - I probably will. Meantime I'll keep taking the Ginko Biloba and Omega 3 and hope to keep it at bay until they discover how to prevent it for good!
Sunday, 20 March 2011
The cats are happy
The cats are happy because the sun is out and when the sun is out I go out too and when I go out they come with me and that makes them happy!
I have been pottering in the garden with two of the boys for company. The third is on the bed cuddled up in the cushions in the sun. Barney is bonkers. He seems to have had a surge of hormones lately - a 14 year-old cat with a bit of a mission....but no anatomy with which to perform the deed. What's that all about?
Clouseau is a human in a cat's body, I'm convinced. His meows and purrs are so expressive and he is so chatty, I think his conversations are pretty grown up for a two year old. I have lovely long chats with him and he seems to agree with everything I say, just about.
Kato is the gentle one, silent and cuddly with soft and fluffy fur. You would hardly know he was there.
I should really go back out to tidy up and take in the washing. The husband (MLC or mid life crisis) is off out on his motor bike.
I don't get motor bikes really....I think it is a man thing - although there are plenty biker chicks out there. I don't even think I would have been bothered 30 years ago. But I am happy that he has a hobby - expensive and life threatening though it is!
Next week will be pretty busy at work - lots to do and less people to do it. I'm just grateful that I do have a job right now. Soon time for a holiday and a bit of r and r in Miami.
I've booked gig tickets for a couple of concerts coming up - British Pink Floyd tour in May and Greg Alman in July. Made me think of gigs I have been to in my life. I don't think I could even remember them all. One in particular that is annoying the hell out of me is a trip to Max's Kansas City in 'the village' in NYC in either 72 or 73 - more likely 73. I remember being there, but can't for the life of me remember who I went to see. It might have been someone really famous - but nope, not a memory.
Ah well, that's the 70s for you.
 |
| Kato and Clouseau |
 |
| Kato and Clouseau |
 |
| Barney |
Kato is the gentle one, silent and cuddly with soft and fluffy fur. You would hardly know he was there.
 |
| All three boys! |
I don't get motor bikes really....I think it is a man thing - although there are plenty biker chicks out there. I don't even think I would have been bothered 30 years ago. But I am happy that he has a hobby - expensive and life threatening though it is!
Next week will be pretty busy at work - lots to do and less people to do it. I'm just grateful that I do have a job right now. Soon time for a holiday and a bit of r and r in Miami.
I've booked gig tickets for a couple of concerts coming up - British Pink Floyd tour in May and Greg Alman in July. Made me think of gigs I have been to in my life. I don't think I could even remember them all. One in particular that is annoying the hell out of me is a trip to Max's Kansas City in 'the village' in NYC in either 72 or 73 - more likely 73. I remember being there, but can't for the life of me remember who I went to see. It might have been someone really famous - but nope, not a memory.
Ah well, that's the 70s for you.
Sunday, 30 January 2011
Tennis on a Sunday
More than 2 years since last posting - I'm not very good at this blogging lark but I'll try to be more regular....
It's sunny out side but very very cold. It's still January after all.
The day will only be punctuated by housework and food. Which will come first? Probably the former. There's the washing to do and the shopping before we can think of food.
I've been remembering old times today - what seems like another life. The days before computers, digital tv and online shopping. The Sunday love songs played some really old stuff
| From Old Pictures |
which took me back to Sundays when I was a child. Some sort of family favourites radio programme which occasionally had modern stuff on it would play in the background. The overpowering smell of roast beef cooking. The sun streaming through the kitchen window. I don't ever remember feeling cold in the house, although in Cornhill Road we had no central heating. We just dressed appropriately and kept moving, I guess. We were outside playing practically all the time anyway. The kitchen had an aga so I think it was pretty warm in there.
Nothing much happened in our house but it was buzzing with 6 kids in and out of each others lives all the time. In Cornhill Road the biggest dramas were over us wee ones tidying our room. We played, and ate, and had a bath every so often. Dad would take us to work with him on a Sunday morning occasionally. Probably to get us out from under Mum's feet while she got the lunch ready. There were toys in the Medical School for us to play with. A sit-on truck that we could ride down the long smooth corridors - everything there was completely silent apart from the squeak of shoes against lino floor.
If we went to Cornhill with him, we played outside. I remember jumping into huge piles of leaves under the trees. But I guess we were more supervised there. I don't imagine we got the run of a psychiatric hospital as small children.
I remember taking the bus back from school. Dad would give us a lift there. That was an ordeal. All 6 of us in the car - mind you - that was only for a year. It was a sort of minibus thing. Then Liz left school, then Dave so there was more room to move and Dad downsized the car to something more sensible.
I guess at this time Mum and Dad were much younger than I am now - which is strange to imagine. Your parents always seem old - but it's relative.
The bus journey was 2 buses from school with 2 others to watch out for. I was only about 7 or 8 at the time. Nowadays no parent would allow their 7 year old to take 2 buses all the way across town on their own. I think the bus fare was 2d as I seem to remember a 'tuppenny half' being asked for.
The biggest thing to happen to me as a child in Cornhill Road was getting chicken pox and measles one after the other, and being off school for what seemed like ages at the same time as Sheila.
Holidays came and went. We always stopped to look at standing stones wherever we were. We would climb hills, take walks and go to the beach. Dad would be providing a running commentary of the places we visited, keeping us interested in wherever it was. He seemed to know everything about everywhere.
Then the next biggest thing to happen was moving to Old Aberdeen. That was a big deal and a big upheaval.
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