What’s the Story in Dalamory

Guess who rolled in geese poo and needed a path?

Clue: it wasn’t me or the cat!

It was a beautiful day today here in Dalamory. Temperature of 12C in the sunshine, so I had a walk round the garden to survey the damage done by the deer and the extraordinarily cold winter. The plants have been hit badly. The deer have eaten anything remotely edible, including ivy and prickly holly. Some of the bushes – lilac, pieris etc – are showing signs of buds swelling, others look decimated. Just as well a special offer leaflet has arrived from a local plant centre – 10% off – though to be honest it will probably be the end of next month before we can even think of planting anything.

This is my birthday month. Now what treats can be scheduled?  Detailed planning is required.

The cat comes back from the cattery today. I wonder what Misty’s reaction will be. She sniffed his scent on the basket yesterday and peered all around, obviously looking for him. The cat, himself, is usually a bit huffy once he gets home, though he is happier and safer in the comfort of the cattery. I try to tell him it is a holiday, but he only looks suspicious.

Safely back home after ten days of helping out with grandchildren. Highlights included: laughing a lot; watching children play with the dog in the snow; bedtime stories; shared meals; building memories; a special “church” service devised by the youngsters and a fabulous trip home in alpine weather with gorgeous scenery. Now I am not fit for much, having spent the morning dealing with paperclog and paying bills.

All very satisfying. Oh – and it is great to be home in Dalamory.

One good thing about internet problems is the opportunity to read more. Hardly any TV this week either, so three good books have filled the gaps very nicely. Adrian Mole: The Prostrate Years by Sue Townsend  – a book full of humour and pathos that has left me longing for another in the series. The next was by a favourite author, Jodi Picoult – My Sister’s Keeper. This is a gripping story woven around the ethics of genetic engineering of one sibling so as to be a match for her older sister, thus providing cord blood to halt a rare type of leukaemia. In her usual style, Picoult successfully uses the voices of different characters and in doing so, makes us question our own prejudices and judgements. After that I went back to humour with A Spot of Bother by Mark Haddon. This is funny, sad and page-turning, a fitting second novel from the author of The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night.

An excellent week!

Having problems with internet accessiblity – back online in a week or so.

It has been one of those days – and all over technology. Well how was I supposed to know that my iphone could, at the touch of the screen, become a giant display? Of course I discovered that it only required another spaced tap to reduce the size. I had searched the net and couldn’t find anyone with the same problem. No wonder – it isn’t a problem but a stupid user.

As for the BT phone line. It seems that arbitrarily BT have disabled the phone line, though not the broadband. Honestly – I pay by monthly direct debit! Anyway, I got this information from the website. So far, so good. However, when I tried to find out when it would be restored it was a whole different matter. Firstly, I tried phoning them from a broadband phone, only to discover that they wanted to disable the broadband to check it – Duh! (Never thought I would use that kind of slang, but I feel like using a whole lot worse.) Sending an email to ask for info was not any easier, the form is definitely not user friendly. But in the end I managed to send an email off. Not even an acknowledgement in 2hrs. Pah!

And I am supposed to be a techno-savvy OAP! Still, the rant makes me feel marginally better.

“Hugger mugger” is your phrase of the day.

And no prizes for guessing I am reading of 19th century navy exploits by Patrick O’Brien.

I was very taken with a passage written by Doris Grumbach (American Writer) on growing old with grace. She encapsulated something wonderful about God and faith too.

Growing old with grace must mean that somehow our resentments, selfishness, ambitions, and grudges diminish. Compassion, understanding and sympathy take their place…….We sense the spiritual in our friends. We suspect God is in them and in us. Growing old with grace is surrendering vanity and the strident will, for the heart. As the Greek proverb says, “The heart that loves is always young.”

A beautiful thought for a Sunday morning.