Wealth .

 

Down the motorway and onto the lane . 

That's Ilford lane which is actually a busy main road .

The saxophonist is used to driving in London . Which is just as well as no rules is the rule . Speed and a loud horn usually sort it out .

Once parked we make our way to Chopra's who sell kitchen equipment at very fair prices . I wanted more metal bowls and some new spatulas . 

On the way past the butchers shops and sari shops was a shop with jewelled saris and opulent jewellery in the window . I could not resist .

The bulk of the shop was jewellery . Beautiful earrings covered one entire wall and the opposite wall was all bangles .

The bangles were in jewel colours and exquisite .The old man in the turban responded to my gestures and racked each choice up on a long metal pole he held between his hands . When I had what I wanted he pulled them off in groups and expertly wrapped them in celophane .He put the bangles into a smart box and sealed the lid and then put the box into a little bag . I paid ,  he gave me his card and shook hands with the saxophonist . It was a lovely experience . It has only cost me ten pounds .

Then on to Chopras the hospitable kitchen equipment shop . Then the grocers . 

I bought three big bunches of coriander for £1.17 , three bunches of spinach for £1.47 , two cucumbers you could have knocked nails in with for £1.38 . 

There was also curry leaves , ginger , paneer and other things .

I could not find the Panch Puran and a stranger stopped me and asked what I was looking for and found it for me . 

Then to the snack shop for samosas and bhajiyas to enjoy tonight . Four huge samosas and four fat bhajiyas for £6.00 .

When I got home I found little pots of sauce that had been added for nothing .

We were the only white faces in those shops . What people miss !

The quality of the goods , the excellent prices . Much more is the kindness and warmth given to white people who come with respect and enthusiasm .

I have left the box of bangles on the table and twice I have been back just to open the box and look at the lovely colours and thought of the man who boxed the bangles up  .

Later we shall eat the samosas and bhajiyas .

I feel very rich tonight .

Cause and effect .

 

Had this theory about the front garden .

 It went "the front garden has gone a bit wild this year given the extreme heat and mucho rain . So better to let the lot go over , die down and thus be easily got ready for winter and then the snowdrops etc ,"

( Snowdrops start the cavalcade of the years returning treats : snowdrops , crocuses , scillas , daffodils , tulips and so on and on ...... ) 

Did you see what I did there ?   Gloss over the fact that I have spent most of my time post lockdown by ocean , by estuary ,  beside myself with glee . 

Anyway chicken in oven , saxophonist on pruning , me to do the rest .

Theory rubbish , work exhausting and time consuming only compensated by fantasy of having a gun full of liquid manure and Monty Don in my sights . 

The holly was the worst .

Back indoors new Nigel Slater lemon chicken recipe on table .Extra fat lemons to squeeze atop the juicy joys .

Facts : holly pricks your hands and forearms .An enthusiast with a fat lemon will find this out as the lemon juice hits the holly leaf punctures on her forearms . This causes an effect and quite a dramatic one at that .

Observation : Perhaps reassess gardening schedule for next year .

Sausage and shingle .

 

Bought Autumn / Winter wardrobe editions on Friday . Two shift dresses in a thrilling blue Two denim pinafore dresses .

Blue dresses still thrilling . Two pinafore dresses a sodding disaster . The cut was entirely wrong . ( " I don't need to try these on , they are fine ". )

I looked like an over stuffed sausage - one that had been stuffed with vengeance in the heart .

Two places could do one pinafore but not two in the size I wanted to make them loose , boxy and nineteen twenties .

Inspiration struck and I found a supplier near a shingle beach .

Tried on two lovely designs and came away with one of each .

Fish and chips and then ice cream gazing out to sea . Satisfaction on the shingle .

Red velvet .

 

A trip to stock up on wine takes us past two sources of second hand books . Such is the location of both that the " top ten "paperbacks are sought after . The rest changes regularly and is largely untouched except by the happy few . 

Today biographies of Katherine Mansfield and William Morris . A book of Ardizone sketches plus some poetry : Plath , Hughes , Larkin and Wendy Cope . I think I like the Larkin and the illustrations best but the biographies will sit and wait for the right moment .

A fat slice of red velvet cake and a steaming pint mug of strong tea each when we returned .

Small satisfactions .

 

It's good to go shopping across country (petrol situation much improved and plenty for all ).

Across country then , a deer in the middle of the road starred us out on the way over and mackerel skin skies on the way back .

Inbetween a ferocious curry, reduced Leuchtturm note books which saved me a fortune ( well £124.51 anyway ), groceries of course and some men's tee shirts in kingfisher blue .I bought XL size so I could cut a chunk off the bottom of each and have a boxy customised shape . The bottom where cut obligingly curls up slightly ( allowed for that ) so the style looks very meant . 

Small satisfactions .

There is nothing phoney about a coney .

 

Came back by the country roads today . Light fading and rain dripping on the leaves and the land . Every so often the rain had had flowed from the sloping fields onto the road making them silver and making that nice swishing sound as we drove through . 

The sky looked like a part of paradise . Pale pink , pale blue , pale grey , shining white and silver with bursts of gold where the setting sun flowed across the sky through a chink .

I was not looking forward to Autumn . Last year's with the circumscribed circumstances and the prospects clear to all made that difficult .

It's different though . 

I relish collecting some more conkers ( do you bake or vinegar ? )

I have plans to go to a favourite market town to see a good butcher about a bunny. 

I'm looking forward to lingering and greedily gulping down some good art in a nice warm gallery . 

I've had my hair cut very short - I'm all about the cheek bones at the moment . It's a good style to take some of my semi precious earrings . Today long thins strands of lilac ( Lolite ) and later with a dark green dress some fiery Garnets - as big as hips and the same colour as haws .

I've ordered the new Nigel Slater to cook into the winter with and have the latest Rachel Roddy on my desk to compliment it  .

I've finally got into the Elena Ferrante quartet ( the Neopolitan novels ) and have some eye wateringly expensive wool gradually knitting up into a wrap to take me into late Autumn with a swish . I can sit in a quiet corner , with either , and some fifties New York jazz and good coffee making good even better .

Its to easy to look at the world and see only bleak . I heard someone talking the other day about it being " futile to hope " .

Hope is never futile .  

Maybe Lolites and Italian novels are not for you but we all have our rabbit pie so to speak ,  don't we .

You can keep your hat on .

 

Two beings have seen me through the worst of these times . A young barn owl that fluttered in the gloom and a magnificent stag that stared me out . Their beauty and sheer indifference to the virus helped . 

Those days of gun metal skies and numbing cold. In that persisting gloomy light and ice all you could make out was hope running into the distance with his arse on fire .

The wild things helped - that and any song or piece of music that could make me cry . It was like blood letting .

Today was different.

 The alert level has been taken down by the medics . The demise of the virus has been more speedy and significant than they expected .

Under a very blue sky I have seen snowdrops , primroses , catkins and pussy willow . 

I have had enough of augury and omens , none of them good .

 Instead I look at small green buds and I have to tell you that this years are particularly fine . 

Note to self .

Buy lamb for Easter feasting .

Put date in diary to purchase frilly knickers and a new straw hat .

Plan to wear the two for breakfast and then leave one on .

Further note to self .

Buy hat pin .

A call to action ?

 

One of our regular routes takes us past an unassuming semi with a driveway . The driveway has pots of all shapes and sizes with a surprising array of plants in them . A leisurely browse will generally yield several gems . 

The owner is short and well rounded with her hair in a white bun . She is strangely elusive . She will exchange a few remarks with you and when you turn round to reply she has vanished . Scuttled away like a hedgehog . More than once I have not seen her go towards the road or behind a bush and certainly she has not passed me for her side gate or her front door . She has simply , inexplicably disappeared . 

Today we stopped in the wet and dark and I walked gingerly through the pots to the front door . 

I rang the bell prepared to have made a gesture and left . 

After a minute or two the front door opened a crack and two piercing pale blue eyes appeared . The eyes were an unusually pale blue ( mine are bright blue but not as piercing or that shade of ice blue ).

I explained I had bought various plants across the year and paid through the letterbox . I said that I wanted her to know that my garden was flourishing because of her . I wished her a happy Christmas and held out a rather nice jar of jam .

The door opened on a lit hall and she stepped forward . 

"Do you have rosemary " she said . I said I didn't ( which was not true as I have planted a whole hedge from rosemary and lavender cuttings )

She looked at me very intently and I felt she could see everything I had ever done .

"Wait here " she said shortly and scuttled away . I waited . She scurried back .

" I did not grow this rosemary tree  " she said . "my friend did , she planted it with love and tended it until it grew into a tree , with  love ". 

"She gave me five of these and told me to give them to the right people ". " I cannot charge you for this because it has love in it - do you understand me ? "

I said that I did and took the tree from her . We regarded one another squarely . 

This was not at all what I had intended or expected to happen . She stepped back , I thanked her and turned . The door shut .

I said to the saxophonist " do I look needy ? " He said i was probably one of the least needy people he knew . 

I will never know who the other four " right " people are and I am still thinking through something which feels like much more than a sum of its parts .

Agreed ?

 

I have gathered sea holly from the wilder parts of the estuary . Just enough to mix with the traditional holly from the garden . The sea holly is blue grey and has no berries . The garden holly has lots of red berries . The two sit oddly well together . 

The sea holly has sharper points and they come off invisibly . I climbed shoe - less on furniture to put the two hollies over picture frames . I need not , I am sure , go into detail of what ensued . 

The butcher in the village nearby does the very best herb sausage meat to compliment a bird . The ride home goes into the wilds and just after the goose farm four firs sit on a bank . 

A cry went up "back up ! " , "back up !".

The thick branch I choose was , the saxophonist said  , too  thick to come off clean . I looked disappointed and it came off clean .

I went to the recycling centre for a new tea pot and some paperbacks .There , amongst the bric a brac was a gold and opaque glass sphere . Flat bottomed and open necked . 

They never slaughter the geese at the goose farm. They are a constant feature  of the landscape ,  year round  .

I am writing this by the " tree " in the sphere nursing " sea holly feet " . A pile of paperbacks sit enticingly nearby and a large brown tea pot sits on the draining board . 

Life can be water and dry bread . Or it can be a mug of good strong tea and thickly buttered crunchy toast .I believe you can choose and probably a lot more than you suppose .

The geese have no reason to disagree .

Comment verification nonsense !

 

Blogger had put on comment verification I gather . Assume this is standard on " new blogger ".

I have taken it off .

Gammon and Larkin .

 

Larkin , in his poem " An Arundel tomb " makes the point that

" They would not guess how early in
Their supine stationary voyage
The air would turn to soundless damage ,
How soon succeeding eyes begin
to look not read . "

When the monuments went up ,  the person it commemorates and the person who paid for it were known to the viewer .
Now , we don't read it like that , we concentrate more often on the skill of the maker , the boggling amount of children on the plinth or the beauty of it and what it unexpectedly reveals says Larkin , or something like it .

These lovely things can be a record , a form of respect , vanity , resultant of a promise kept .

A rewriting of the history of a man who was less than he might have been in some areas of his life .

A humorous or political point made and now lost or partially obscure now .

The monument to Sir Anthony Rowley sits in a church I sometimes visit in Suffolk . The poem " a frog he would a wooing go "is about him . 

"A frog he would a wooing go

Hey ho says rowley

Whether his mother would like it or no

With a rowley , powley , gammon and spinach

hey ho says anthony rowley .

There are local families called Rowley , Powley , Gammon and ( unusual ) Spinach .

On Sir Anthony's statue he wears an earring . It is of a frog .

The full significance of the poem and the frog earring are not known .

The Larkin poem is ( of course ) very good  - if you don't know it , have a look .

Serenity .

  

As the light fades the sky is overcast with peach and dark blue clouds . Here and there the sunlight and sky blue of the day show through . On the dull blue water sea gulls sit swaying on the tide . 

When the sunlight breaks through it rests on the white backs of the gulls . It makes them golden and lit up .

In the fading light they look like so many fireflies . 

The way the sun sits .

 

The way the sun sits this evening gilds the birds . There are silver seagulls on the wing . Their gleam will only be extinguished by the night . 

Meanwhile I wait for Friday when , they say , the heat will abate . 

Till then I languish . A melting ice lolly . languorous . lazy . Letting the book on my lap fall shut . 

By the end of the week I should be able to watch the rain wash the dust from the blackberries and elderberries . For now though the preserving pan and my attendant plans can wait . 

There is silence and a slight breeze to keep me occupied .

Swan or shorn ...........

Such is the nature of the fields around the estuary that what , from a distance , looks like a field of sheep is sometimes a large flock of grazing swans . 

I love to look at the white origami of the shapes in the distance and as we draw near take further clues . 

It can be a puzzle ,  like one of those photographs of a familiar object taken from an odd angle .

Which is better to discover sheep or swan ?

Along the way some fields have been cut and the  stubble ploughed in . The soil is a rich brown and could only be improved, you feel , by some custard and double cream .

Before lock down I had my hair cut by a " ladies hairdresser " and not a " good cutter " . A " good cutter"  is more often to be found in the city whilst a " ladies hairdresser"  would only be there for the  Ideal home exhibition .......

So , bad cut , dye growing out, split ends and hair generally indicative of much sea . salt and beach time spent post lock down .

Then , last Saturday ,  on one of those impulses , I dashed through the rain to a " good cutter "  . 

I took a chance never having been there before . 

I mentioned Annie Lennox , he nodded and cut . He cut and razored down the lengths until they were all gone and there was my natural brown hair minus the "stubble " of the split ends , dye etc .

Which is better swan or shorn ?

I smiled into the mirror, paid him a fortune and sashayed out into the rain .

Do I look hot ?

Yes .

Sand .

Little boys run up and down the beach like sand pipers .

The vivid green of the sea holly is that of pea pods .A small dog with a red collar raises his head and sniffs the salt in the air .

I collect a bag of bladderwrack . I love the smell of seaweed as the best of smells . 

I shall hang it by the back door tomorrow . 

It is not , as some would , hung as a weather barometer . for any fool knows that if the seaweed is wet it is raining ! 

No , it hangs there so that when I open the door on a damp morning I smell the shore again and mentally cancel what can wait . 

It is always good to listen to what the waves have to say .

Sometimes a bit of lonely is nice .

As lockdown has eased its been baguettes on the beach . 

( we are in the car or away from it on a wide lonely beach - sometimes a bit of lonely is nice .) 

Sand between my toes and a sunny breeze on my lockdown hair .

We went again on my birthday . Well , there's no gallery or museum so that was what I chose .

  Good choice - it was that soft rainy day and everything was so green and blue in the landscape .

Down the back roads with red legged partridges trying to race the car and hawks riding the soft air currents . Out along the estuary to a philosophical ocean which takes 2020 as par for the course for humans and gets on with slapping the quay .

Today , though , I stayed at home . The saxophonist went to the allotment . Planting in the poly tunnel I interrupted him him asking him to bring back some broad beans .He held me up going on about his erection . 

I know and he insisted on telling me ,  in depth  , about the runner bean frame he was about to erect . 

He isn't normally one for the double entendre  and I have already told him to use the hair clippers he bought to make him attractive again .

 So your guess is as good as mine . At least I'll get some runner beans out of it . They are my favourite - perhaps that was it .

So I got him off the line and got on with my own gardening .I'd bought some unusual poppies from road side stands so they went in the front garden . It's a blaze of cottagy English garden just now .

The back garden is all greens . You go through an old Victorian passage and out among beds of ferns and herbs  . A green jungle .

( The space that isn't beds is carpeted with oyster shells we collected over a winter with strange tides  . They came in  , hundreds and hundreds of them .  I usually collect sea glass but this was a winters project . )

There is a recycled table with a toughened glass top and half a dozen heavy fold up wooden chairs .

There's a bench at the bottom in the shade of an old Victorian wall . 

I've recently acquired a large statue of a naked boy . The statue has carved drape fabric so that his buttocks are on show and his " construction for runner beans " is veiled .

Anyway , then to all the new plants for the back garden and fresh herb seeds in the cold frame .

Round the naked boy I've put nasturtiums and morning glory . In due time he will have some snakes head fritillary as a companion and later he can gaze on jasmine .

So when I had done that lot and watered it all in I made some good coffee .

I sat at the table with the coffee and a cigarette .

 Under a blue , blue sky I and naked boy enjoyed the slight breeze and time to think our own thoughts at leisure . 

I thought how good this feels - the quiet . the coffee , the cigarette and the green , green garden .

I have no idea what naked boy thought . Experience earlier in the day made me incline to the view that it is sometimes better not to know what the male species wants to tell you .

After all I was hot , muddy and tired and not a bit concerned about why naked boy was showing off his arse - lets not forget that sometimes a bit of lonely is nice . 

Bear witness

 

My fellow blogger and friend has put up a post for Thursday 4th of June .

She is on blogger and her blog is called 37 paddington .

I know I have many visitors who prefer not to comment ( and some who do ) .

Can I ask you to go over to the post .

I want people to know what she has written .

Four metres long and two metres wide .

The shed we inherited at the plot turned out , in actuality , to be a tool store . It is not tall enough for me to stand in .
I had visions of sitting contented in the door way on a rainy day with a steaming mug of tea .
To be truthful that was half the idea .Leisured cosiness out of the rain and all that implies .

Word came to us that a fellow plotter had bought his daughter a poly tunnel . She then announced she was moving and did not want it .

Sooo .... two hundred quid's  worth of poly tunnel ours for fifty quid .

Today we cleared the area where we will erect it .

I ache all over and that's after a long soak in the bath and one of my steak and onion pies .
My hands , arms , legs , belly and upper lip all have deep ugly bramble scratches .

Was it worth it I hear you ask ?

I reply  : OH yessy , yes , yes .

I am going to brew tea in there . I'm going to read a paperback in a chair in there . I'm going to think about everything and nothing in there . Heck , I may even plant seeds in there .

What I really want to do in there is a secret ....... however, if you should pass and there is loud unladylike snoring coming from the poly tunnel you will know my wish has come true .

Doves and fennel seeds .

A blogging friend sits , she says , and in the other room her husband is making cooing noises .
There is a Mourning dove that comes to the window sill of their locked down New York apartment . He and the dove chat in their language then both go back to their respective lives .

I was walking along and a surly looking man appeared in the opposite direction . I crossed over and we came closer , each in separate " lanes ".
He glared at me .
I glared at him .
Then on impulse I grinned and gave him a thumbs up His face split into a broad grin and he gave me a very vigorous wave . We grinned until we passed each other .


In the supermarket I stood by the herbs and spices . An asian man stood at the other end .
This  time they had curry leaves .
" Aah " I said delightedly as my hand shot out to claim the little jar ."
" Oh ",  said the asian man " you got what you wanted ".
"What did you want ?" I said .
 "Fennel seeds " he said sadly .
I looked  along the racks at my end " They're here "I said and pointed to a couple of jars that were left . His face lit up and I left him to claim his prize .


On MiSoul radio ( a digital station specializing in soul music ) one of my favourite DJ's says he will play his favourite down load  that we have all fallen for .

Across Twitter and Facebook people announce to him their intention to dance in their kitchens .

Wailing raunchy sax ensues and there we are all singing with Norma Jean Bell " I'm the biggest bitch in the room ".
We all felt better for that .


There isn't enough ham for two so I open a small tin of salmon for the saxophonist's baguette .
Mayo , cucumber and lettuce are introduced and I hope he won't moan about the substitute .
" I did enjoy that " he says  .

Inconsequential specks of satisfaction but enough to keep the traction going .

That wonderful blue .

I imply no naivety no element of hysteria or delusion .
What I wrote about was how adversity can leave you bereft or enriched . I do feel that we can be energized or surprised by life and that stoicism mistimed can be stodge .
 There is a deeper wisdom for those with sharp vision and an open mind .
I think this chimed with some readers and not so much with others .
I have quoted Phillip Pullman before who said that you can't pick up a piece of wood with a magnate . Anyway to other matters ...

We , who don't get our deliveries queue at a distance and are exasperated or tickled by others stance on how to shop .
I have made a remark to a queue jumper and I have been exasperated by people dithering at the shelves .
I had to smile at myself though .
An expected ingredient was missing so I made a quick mental calculation about a reasonable substitute and put it in the trolley . I turned and saw someone patiently waiting for their turn at the shelf .

I thanked them and thought  ,  don't use the term ditherer if  you may be deliberating about your choice ,  what is the difference between the perceived ditherer   (see what I did there )   and your good self .
The answer is of course is bugger all .
We are all human and that made me smile too .  Are there people who think they are not ? Well that makes me smile as well .

So we drove away and I said " can you stop please ".
The saxophonist pulled in at the side of an empty country road and we opened the doors to solitary fresh air and silence .

Little by little though , a cacophony arose .
 I looked up and in the hedge and tree above it fluttering , singing and shouting were a flock of newly fledged blue tits .
Their  heads were that wonderful blue and their tiny chests were part yellow already . They were not afraid . They hopped , shouted and sung about  white clouds  , green leaves , their beauty , my beauty .....  oh and your beauty too .

Celebrate what remains .
 Savour all the small pleasures and satisfactions .

Oh and remember the baby blue tits think you're beautiful .