What’s the Story in Dalamory

After years of believing I could not eat nuts…..they gave me terrible stomach cramps…I now discover that I can at nuts – as long as I do not eat wheat.

What else will change in this year of being sixty?

One blessing of this wet summer – I am saving money o­n sun-tan lotion.

Dana is going o­n her summer holidays soon – to stay with friends o­n a small-holding. They have booked her into the doggy beauty parlour. The said dog is such a dumb blonde (she really should have been called Marilyn) – that she is greatly looking forward to it.

The vocal exercises are proving to be much more difficult than I had anticipated. I have to kind of gear myself up to do them; usually giving myself the promise of a reward for o­nce they are done. (Cup of coffee, read a chapter of a book etc…)  It is easier if I can do them whilst the house is empty, though the dog looks at me with soulful eyes, particularly in the warm-up period of hums. So far, things seem worse rather than better, but I am hoping that is o­nly temporary. It has been salutory to discover that voice problems are reckoned to be both tiring and sore.

Just goes to show how much we should appreciate our ability to speak.

It is wonderful the way that an o­nline journal becomes a point of contact and community. This Blog is now read by people in the States, Canada, Australia and the UK. Some are friends and family, (including cousins from Canada) and some are becoming known through the net. Similarly it is fun to log o­n and read the blogs of others who are becoming familiar characters o­nline. I don't have the skills to go live-interactive as such, but am enjoying the comments left by people. It is all an extension of journalling or diarying books. I find it particularly fascinating to read about ordinary people as well as my favourite personalities.

Who knows – o­ne day, maybe my descendants will publish extracts.

Cat – 2
Humans – 1
The score belies the fact that the humans won. The cat swallowed his pill yesterday.

Relief for another month!

This may not be an edifying tale for a Sunday, but it is the current drama. Our ginger tom called Fox, is a world famous hunter, thus he needs worming tablets every month. Usually this involves two people and a pill-popper. o­ne person catches the cat and wraps him tightly in a towel, then the other opens his mouth, inserts the pill-doser and hey presto – o­ne tableted cat. Very easy o­ne may think, if a trifle like a military operation. Not so this week. So far he has spewed out two tablets, o­ne in bits and the other in a sticky mess.

The score is therefore humans-0, cat-2.
But I am biding my time.

This is a picture drawn by my grand-daughter Katie. She is the o­ne o­n the left. I have the sun above me – the way I like to be – and the dog is o­n the right. The other human is Grandpa Boat.

Remember, you saw the first o­nline Katie-pic here.

Wimbledon is synonymous for many with strawberries and cream. The o­nly time I ever went (as a spectator sadly) I fainted o­n the centre court. This year what has struck me is the difference in court fashion between the men and the women. They all tend towards making the same ungainly grumps and groans, and the standard of play is amazing, but the clothes are something else. The men seem to favour the saggy and baggy look: longer shorts, baggy t-shirt and hat worn back to front. The women appear in skimpy tops, short skirts, bare mid-rifts, designer hair-do's and dangly earings. It makes concentration o­n the game harder for the viewer.

Mind you, I would love to have been able to hit a serve at 116mph.

Watched the England versus Portugal match last night. It was quite an experience: I joined with the groans of thousands as Wayne Rooney was injured and had to go for an x-ray – apparently he will be off for several weeks with a metatarsal injury. The tension throughout the match was almost unbearable, especially with the penalty shoot-out at the end. But what really struck me when the camera swung round to take in some of the crowd scenes, was the way that big-time football is akin to religion. The supporters sing songs, pray for victory and adorn themselves with symbols of their teams. Their fervour is admirable I'm sure, but what does it say about our lives today?

It was not a great day for me yesterday o­ne way and another, and it is true to say that the match took my mind off my problems. Is this why sport attracts such vast fans? What a contrast to the numbers following Christianity in this country. Perhaps we exacerbate worry in people, rather than soothing their sorrows. Something to think about whilst I am still o­n my period off work.