A week gone already

And I've not blogged. I'd like to say it's because I lead such an exciting life but in truth nothing exciting's happened.

Let's think. Monday work. On the plus side I didn't get locked out, find ants in my tea-pot or break anything. And I didn't die during one of the hardest circuits we've endured for a long time, not helped by the fact that there were only three of us so it was practically personal training. When I first started going along we'd do an exercise for maybe 40 seconds - actually I think it was 30 in the very beginning - followed by a breather of 15 seconds; now we do 1.5 minutes with no breather.

Tuesday, great start, discovering I'd lost 2.5 lb. I'd had a good week and am trying to get my weight - or more particularly my eating - under control again. Exercise, after weigh-in and the motivational chat, was almost as hard-going as the previous night, made worse by the heat and the speed and the fact that I was already aching.

Leading the study in Zac's so went home after slimming and made a Black Forest gateau (a birthday cake for Nigel) and finished preparing the study. (Yes, I do prepare, unbelievable as that may seem to people who attend.)

For once it was a quiet and small group, and the study went well. It was an easier topic - what sort of fruit are we producing?- than we've been dealing with recently (love your enemies and not being judgemental) and I wanted it to be very affirming, which I think it was - until ... there always has to be an until in Zac's.

One gentleman - no, man - decided it would be appropriate to give something that should have remained private a public airing. I couldn't make myself heard over the resulting rumpus to bring it to a halt until Kay yelled at everyone to shut up. He scuttled off at the end and, apparently, still seems to think that he did us a service. Afterwards it was a shame that discussion of the rumpus replaced what should have been more encouragement and affirmation leaving a slightly sour taste. Even the deliciousness of the cake didn't altogether wipe out the memory.

Wednesday and Thursday in Devon looking after grandchildren. Thursday morning GrandDaughter goes to pre-school so we take Grandson2 to singing at the library. Nowhere is the difference between boys and girls - at least in our family - more noticeable. GrandDaughter would sit, join in the action songs, look at books; GrandSon2 wanders around, stares at people, escapes while looking at me with a naughty smile on his face. 'Look what I'm doing! Are you going to chase me?'

Then it was swimming in the afternoon. I don't know how well the children slept that night but Husband and I were out for the count.

Work on Friday then today a start on all the cleaning I put off while the sun shone with just a short break to listen to the Lions rugby game. Oh and blog. 

See? Busy, fun, enjoyable, but not exciting. In fact the most exciting thing was when I thought George had eaten the chopped chillies I'd left out in the kitchen. Sadly - because it might have taught him a lesson - he left those and instead ate the mound of grated raw courgette I'd prepared for my crab and courgette linguine. I despair of my dog.

We've been in Devon for the weekend

It was Daughter's birthday last Monday so we went down to stay with her and her husband for the weekend. Of course the real reason they wanted us down there was to do some digging on their allotment!! That's me hard at work. Seen through the snow-damaged fruit cage.

After the game (separate post!) we enjoyed a delicious leek and squash risotto Daughter cooked for us. It was yummy! She is a very good cook.

A jigsaw scene at Bickleigh.

Then today we took them for lunch at Michael Caines' (not Michael Caine's) restaurant in Exeter where we sat in in the window and people-watched while we ate (food that wasn't as good as Daughter's).

Crocuses in the cathedral garden.
The sun setting behind the steelworks (at 70 mph!).

Hey ho, it's off to work with we go

I'm not doing Photohunt this weekend (or next come to think of it). Next weekend we're off to a wedding and tonight we're going down to Devon to visit Daughter and Son-in-law and Holly Dog. I say we're going to visit but actually we've been invited to work. Daughter and S-i-l have recently taken on an allotment, a large and very overgrown allotment. So mum and dad have been roped in to dig.

I don't mind: it's the sort of gardening I do best, killing things.
xx

It's not the Angel of the North

But rather the Tin Man of the South. He stands just alongside the M5 (hence the blurry photo), somewhere between Exeter and Bristol. I don't know who made him or why but his head is very small. And his arms fade away into nothingness. Perhaps they got to his shoulders and were running out of metal. Or maybe it's Art. * * * * * * * * * *

And I'll just say, 'Way-ales!' Hallelujah, we beat Argentina 27-20. It was better than the last result but we still have a lot of work to do and not much time to do it in (the World Cup competition starts in three weeks or so). I'll be at the Millennium Stadium next Sunday to see Wales take on France (who yesterday beat England for the second time in two weeks) in a friendly. Photos of the Stadium, which is a fabulous venue, will follow.
xx

An unexpected weekend

It was going to be a quiet weekend.

Younger Son was going to Devon to dogsit for Daughter and Son-in-law, but on Friday, pulling in to the side of a narrow lane to make way for a tractor, he damaged his car making it unsafe to drive. That evening it was panic stations with Daughter already in Brighton and Holly dog alone in Devon. The cavalry had to come to the rescue.

It was a lovely weekend, mostly sunny and breezy; just the sort of weekend to stay in a cottage in Devon. Our - no, sorry - my weekend was made complete when Wales, after losing four games in the Six Nations championship, beat England. (I'm not going to mention that again.)

Saturday morning we took Holly to Budleigh Salterton and walked the length of the beach. It's a shingle beach and the pebbles are all so wonderfully smooth, I get quite excited about their beauty.

We came home with a car loaded with driftwood and a few stones (I'm whispering that as there is a sign on the beach saying, 'Do not remove shingle or stones,' although I think they mean that in a big way. I hope.)

At the west end of the beach, Devonian red sandstone cliffs rise up sharply from the limestone-pebbled bay. The cliff is gradually being eroded away and fantastic shapes and holes are created in it.

It's a puzzle as to why the beach isn't red sand though.

This section of the bay is intended for naturists but there weren't any out yesterday, and Husband didn't think it was compulsory for us to undress.

I don't know what this rose was doing on the beach, but I do know what Holly was doing!
Now I've going to have beans on toast for my Mother's Day tea.

xxxx

A weekend in Devon

Just returned from a visit to Silverton, Devon. We took Holly and Charlie back home to Daughter and Son-in-law (who'd enjoyed their visit to Venice).


As a one-day belated birthday treat, we all - well, all the humans - ate out at Jack in the Green last night. It's our fourth visit there since Daughter has lived in Devon and it's probably about our favourite place to eat. We've never been disappointed.


Last night for starters I had Seared Sesame Tuna with Chive Crushed Potato, Black Olive and Cabernet Sauvignon Vinaigrette . Now I've never had fresh tuna before so I didn't know what to expect. What arrived was three small triangular slices of - well, Husband and Son-in-law who've both eaten tuna before assured me was - tuna. I was convinced they'd brought me the wrong thing. It tasted like ... no, not chicken ... duck or lamb maybe. Certainly it bore nor resemblance to tinned tuna, which I always consider to be a dry fish, which is why I've never chosen to have it before. Anyway it was delicious. Whatever it was.











Killerton House is a National trust property, close to Silverton.

The 'new' Severn Bridge is a very beautiful structure.