Daughter phoned this morning. She said, "You were an excellent holiday companion. You weren't annoying at all!"
Um, thank you. I would say the same thing about her. She is excited to visit bookshops. She wants to visit bookshops. She doesn't stand around in bookshops looking bored. And we both like cake, and, even though she didn't have one, she encouraged me to have an ice cream in Iceland.
We've travelled to Bristol airport on several occasions and it seems to be that Ms Satnav chooses a different route for us to navigate each time. Or possibly Bristol and its environs are like Hogwarts with its moving staircases.
One route takes us into a toll area. Not a stop and pay at the booth toll, but a 'payline online before you travel' toll, which is fine if you know it's there, less good if it catches you unawares. But this time we were ready and we told Ms Satnav to avoid toll roads. Unfortunately it didn't register with her and we found ourselves scrabbling to change directions just as I'm approaching a roundabout. Daughter pressed all the right buttons and we sailed past must-be-avoided road and carried on until Ms Satnav said, "Turn right in 100 yards."
"Seriously? are you sure? That looks awfully narrow."
She was sure. So I did.
It was west Wales all over again.
A one-car-wide lane with grass growing down the middle.
But it got us there without tolls and with the wonderful benefit of watching a beautiful pheasant stroll across in front of us. Yes, it had time to stroll; it wasn't the sort of lane you could do more than 15 mph, at the most. And it really was the most glorious colours.
So, to get to my Icelandic tale proper. Daughter and I travelled on Thursday and returned yesterday, Sunday. We were travelling with Easyjet and Daughter had booked us in with just one small bag each, which was fine apart from the fact we had to wear half our clothes to travel in to save space. Imagine, if you will, squeezing into an airplane seat wearing thermal leggings and vest, a polo neck jumper, a big woolly jumper, jeans and furry boots. Not to mention my specially-bought 'keeps you super warm' coat. (You'll see photos of it later.)
But the flight was good, on time, smooth, and even arriving a little early in Iceland.
From there Daughter had arranged transport for us with the hotel. Looking forward to seeing a man holding up her name in the arrivals lounge she was a little disappointed to be greeted by every name but hers.
Gradually all the other transporters' passengers arrived and left, leaving us standing there wondering how long we'd have to wait. Eventually Daughter phoned the hotel and was told the driver had been sick for the last two days but they'd get on to him. She and I looked at each other and at the bus booking desk. Daughter called the hotel back, told them not to worry as we'd go on the bus. The idea of travelling in a confined space with a not-very-well driver did not appeal.
But after that, everything went wonderfully, and even those hiccups - lane detour and sick driver - were all part of the adventure.
On the drive to Reykjavik the bus driver explained that, because the days were so dark in January and February, householders and the council tended to keep their Christmas lights up for longer.
Daughter went to a charity shop, saw this, and had to buy it.
The Date Flapjack Surprise went down a storm. Everyone loved them. Personally I thought they needed more filling but at least I know now.
So there we are.
The roofers arrived at 7.30 this morning. Then Husband skedaddled off to the gym before I had showered. I am irrationally cross with him for that.
As a result all that was needed was the Mission Impossible music to accompany me.
Nothing makes me feel my age more than sitting under bright lights in front of a mirror in the hairdresser's. Between my eye bags and my fat face I could hardly see my eyes.
Fortunately on my walk back I met a regular from our Zac's breakfasts. A young African man, he fist-bumped me! I felt young again!
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Still no roofers and wet weather forecast to be with us for another couple of weeks. That said, it is bright and sunny today. Windy too, even in our garden, so I have hung out my washing.
I am thinking tentatively of pruning the roses. It should have been done in autumn but it wasn't.
Later
It rained so I brought in the washing.
It stopped so I did some pruning. Filled three bags full. I started off carefully, looking for potential side buds before cutting. Then it got personal and I began a vendetta. "You prick me; you're finished."
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Am horrified to discover they eat puffins in Iceland. Whale and horse, not for me but okay, but puffins?!
I dithered over whether to bake for Zac's or not. Decided I would and opted for a ginger cake for a change. Discovered I didn't have any black treacle, so went for chocolate cake instead. Realised I didn't have any eggs so forced to make date flapjacks.
Had started mixing the flapjack when I found out I didn't have any dates. Panicked Kept calm and softened some apple slices instead. It was while I was adding a little sweetener to those that I noticed I was using honey. The same as I'd used in the flapjack - but it should have been golden syrup.
They look alright. I shall report back after tasting one.
A good bit of haggling it was not.
But they've gone.
As have the two wheelchairs, two walking aids, and two crutches, that I brought home from RE. They've just been collected by volunteers from Wheels to Heal. They kept in touch and arrived when they said they would, and already had a large van nearly full of wheelchairs and other aids to go overseas. So pleased that the wheelchairs didn't have to go to landfill, which would have been their fate otherwise as no UK charity shops will take them.
* * * * *
I've started sorting what I need to take to Iceland. I am restricted to a cabin bag so Daughter tells me I will have to wear most of my clothes to travel in. It's a four-day trip so I think eight pairs of knickers should be okay. No, don't be silly; that's excessive. Okay, six pairs plus the ones I'll wear to travel there . . .
* * * * *
I get irrationally annoyed when doing word puzzles and the clue is 'want' and the answer 'need', or vice versa. Want and need are not the same things!
"I should warn you that the car is full of wheelchairs but it's only until Saturday."
It's a mark of Husband's tolerance that he simply raises his eyebrows and shrugs when I announce this on my return from Rough Edges yesterday.
Another good clear-out day although Sean turned up with the van to take metal for recycling and he is another with the tendency to say, "Oh this must be useful/could be upcycled/will sell."
I wasn't in Zac's breakfast this time as I've come off the rota, staying on only as emergency back-up for any shift. I am sad to do it because I enjoyed the interaction with the guys who come in but it was necessary for a number of reasons mainly prioritising my time and energy.
* * * * *
I would love to have been one of those academic type people who spend their lives researching the history of forks - or something equally esoteric. There was a programme on the radio as I drove home from RE yesterday afternoon. Forks came very late into the cutlery department, introduced into Europe by a Byzantine princess who was married to some king, and then they were regarded as slightly infra dig.
* * * * *
No roofers this week having chosen the worst week in January to begin. We do, however, have not one but two skips!
* * * * *
Husband returned form the dentist this morning, tapped me across the shoulder, and said, "I nearly ruptured myself getting into that car!"
Ah, yes, the walker squeezed in behind the driving seat, which is fine for me as I have the seat as far forward as it will go but less fine for Husband.
* * * * *
I thought today was going to be a quiet day for me but I've spent all day catching up on doing stuff. Ooh, distracted by picture of a little pie in the search box below. Seems today is National Pie Day. Wish I'd known; I'd have baked a pie.
Here is one I baked previously!
I had an emergency dentist appointment yesterday. My gum and tooth had been hurting for a while, and, although the pain has lessened, it felt sensible to check before we go to Iceland.
It's in the area where I'm due to have a filling so I thought they might do that but she just checked to make sure there wasn't any infection and them put some sludge that looked like sticky brown tar on my tooth. It tasted vile - to be fair she did warn me. In fact, tar might have tasted better.
Anyway, we'll see how it goes. I was impressed: I phoned in the morning and got an immediate appointment.
* * * * *
Remember - you probably don't and I don't blame you - that I was given a lone cabbage plant last summer? It was very eaten by snails, but I checked up on it on Sunday and it's still surviving. It's even producing babies.
Is this where sprouts come from?
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| That 'head' is about 1" across. |
This is the view from our bedroom window at the moment.
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| LI generated |
