The new 'Brexit' war

There was an article in the Times* about the new 'Brexit' argument i.e. the nation is divided again. This time it's between walkers and joggers/cyclists.

I think I mentioned before my frustration with people (joggers/cyclists) not keeping their distance on our daily walks but today I have come up with a revolutionary new design to prevent and protect.

I've done the hard work designing it; all I need now is an engineer to work out the weight balance aspects and to build it and we could be millionaires by the end of this lockdown.

(Also by the end of this lockdown I could be licking Marmite directly from the jar. I started spreading it thinly on my crispbread; two weeks later I'm dolloping it on.)

I had to pick up prescriptions yesterday. as I was driving out of the surgery car park another car was pulling it. I dutifully pulled over to allow the required 2 metres. Better safe than sorry.

Then I had to join the queue outside the chemist. I was number fifteen in the queue. I hadn't anticipated such a long wait so to pass the time I did calf raises and a merry little heel toe jig. These proved to be doubly useful: they kept me warm and encouraged others to step away from me.

Zine Day

Daughter and her children have been making 8-page zines out of one sheet of paper. I was intrigued so had to have a go.

This is what I do when I've done my exercising, walking, recording, and I'm wondering what to do next.

Or sometimes I bake.

Welshcakes, small flat fruity cakes baked on a griddle. Weight gain is definitely going to be an unavoidable by-product of self-isolation.

But this afternoon I took myself to the kitchen not to bake but to try bowls on my head. Can you guess why?

Books again

The Bermondsey Bookshop
by Mary Gibson
3 *
I thought this was going to be a bookshoppy type book but was more of a family sage, in this case and East End family. 

Kate lives with her aunt and family after her mother died and her father disappeared to make his fortune. She is treated cruelly and lives with the dream that her father will one day return and take her away from all this. 

Conditions in the smelting works where she gets her first job are vividly described but it's when she takes on an extra job cleaning a bookshop that her life begins to change.

Fans of family sagas may well give this book four stars; I'm giving it ***. Perfectly readable just not to my taste particularly.

The Confessions of Frannie Langton
by Sara Collins
4*

His novel begins in the Old Bailey court rooms in 1826. Frannie Langton, a Mulatto slave, is on trial for the murder of her employer and his wife. The book tells us Frannie's story in her own words.

It took me a while to get into it. It begins on the plantation in Jamaica and I found it difficult to follow exactly what was happening. Frannie is taught to read and write and helps her master, John Langton, with his scientific research on what difference colour makes to a person's intelligence. Then her master takes her to London and gives her to his old friend/rival, George Benham.

The rest of the story is largely taken up with Frannie's developing relationship with her mistress, Margueritte, and finally, the court room trial. Now it is totally gripping. Will she be found guilty of murder?

****

And so it begins ...

Okay, so Boris has spoken. No more trips out for us for a while. 

Even though it's illogical. The actions of the few has made it impossible for the rest of us.

So many people visited places and parks at the weekend without following social distancing rules that new bans have had to come in. Most of our big parks have now closed. Thank goodness we have the tip, the woods and the sea front within a few hundred metres.

Our walks with George will be boring but I won't feel guilty, and as if I'm breaking rules and putting others at risk. And in the meantime I'll post old photos of our beautiful Gower Peninsula.

Fairies in the garden

Last year, or possibly the year before, I decided to turn an over-grown corner of the garden into a secret path for children.  

Yesterday I worked on refreshing it. I chopped away lots of branches - mainly so I could get through without being attacked - and then, having cleared them, decided I didn't like the placing of the steps so moved a couple. I am impressed with myself. I can now add step-making to my CV.

After all that I finally found a use for the pretty stones I've been collecting for the last twenty years as well as some shells Nuora brought back from her travels.

And today I collected a few more stones to decorate and add.

Fairy door.

Hedgehog house.

Keep your distance Day

We practised social distancing today.

 Clear to the right.

Clear to the left. You may proceed but remember

The beach at Crawley Woods was pretty clear of plastic although I did collect a few bits. I was impressed ... until I realised it had all been washed or blown behind the dunes.

Today is Arthur's Day!

The news that the Welsh government is thinking about restricting access to the countryside - not sure how exactly - in response to huge crowds on Snowdon and other mountain peaks is a little worrying. 

We had planned to go to Rhossilli today but decided it would be way too crowded so instead went to the top of Gower, to walk across Cefn Bryn (Back of the Hill) to Arthur's Stone.

Even though we were there by 11.00 am there were about a dozen cars in the small parking area but once out of the car there was enough space for everyone to get lost, and certainly keep the 2 metres apart required.

And the first people we saw were ... Daughter and family! Complete coincidence! They were just finishing their walk and, when she saw me, GrandDaughter2, in spite of the yells from her parents,  came rushing to me so I had to run away. I tried to make it funny - if you've seen me running you'll know that's not difficult - but it was HORRID!

But after that it was just us and nature. Skylarks singing their little hearts out provided the only sound. Apart from Husband burping.

You can just see Oxwich Point in the background.

'You looking at me?'

George, a big stone, Burry estuary, and space.

Legend has it that King Arthur had a stone in his boot. He removed it and threw it - from Cornwall/Carmarthenshire (depending on the legend) to Gower - where on landing it grew to be this huge stone.

In fact it's a Neolithic burial tomb, dating back 4500 years. It's been suggested that rather than the stone being placed above the tomb - a mighty feat - the tomb was dug underneath the stone. And, I've just discovered, it was listed in the sixteenth century as one of the three great achievements of the Isle of Britain, the others being Stonehenge and Silbury Hill. 

You'll find lots more fact and legend about it here. For us this morning though it was just a wonderful place to breathe.

An old people fallacy

So supermarkets are offering elderly and vulnerable customers the chance to shop away from others by allocating an hour every day, or few days. So kind. 

Sainsburys, for example, is opening from 8.00 am - 9.00 am every Monday, Wednesday and Friday solely for the at risk groups and health workers - I'll come back to that in a minute.

I haven't even had my breakfast by 9.00 am. This idea that the 'old folk' get up early is a fallacy!

Which brings me to health workers. As the front line they are surely more at risk than anyone, meaning they're likely to be carrying it - and passing it on to the old people shopping at the same time!

I love health workers; they are vital, work hard, and deserve pay rises and shorter hours. And a separate time to go shopping.

Rant over.

Took George out this morning and then spent hours - which in fact turned out to be probably one hour but felt like more - clearing out the courtyard. 

When we've bought a new little table and chairs, and Husband has brought in some geranium pots, it will look even better. For now I am just glad to be rid of all the stuff that had accumulated over the winter.

Incidentally if you're in the woods it's amazing the fun you can have with a stick. And the fun is doubled with two. Sword-fighting, waving your wand, juggling an imaginary ball, playing the drums, sending signals with your flags/sticks, and trying to balance them one on the other.

I can't understand why Husband and George walked some distance behind me.

What is going on in the world?

So on our walk today, where incidentally I saw my first and solitary violet of the year,

Husband said to me, 'Have you booked an online shopping delivery yet?'
'No, I'm not that organised.'
'Now is the time you need to be. You probably won't get one for the next few days so try for Monday.'

You're there before me, aren't you?

I duly sat down at my computer and, once I'd gone through the resetting password thing because it had been so long since I'd used it, logged on. But it seems, unless I've lost my click ability, there are no delivery slots for the next three weeks.

Undaunted I thought I'd use Click and Collect, which seems like a decent halfway house. But alas it seems I would have to travel forty miles to Cardiff to collect. Be a bit of day out I suppose. I might be grateful for such trips in the near future.

I've emailed Sainsburys to ask if there's a closer store offering the service but, really? Is there some kind of crisis in the world?

How to spend your time

When you spend more than £20 on M&S food you get a free seedling pack. Now this is my sort of gardening.

Put soil pellet in a saucer and pour 50 ml water over. Watch in amazement as soil GROWS! 

Mush it up with your hand then nearly fill biodegradable tub with it. Add sheet of seeds and cover with rest of soil.

Keep on windowsill and water when dry. In 14-21 days seedlings may sprout. Or probably not in my case - touch of death. 

But it brightened my day. As did joining in with the lunchtime doodle session with Mo Willems, famous creator of Pigeon.

Here's a question for you

I'm not going to be seeing my grandbabies for some time - I refuse to contemplate how long it could be - so I decided this was an opportunity to temporarily rid the lounge of the stack of toys that have been a feature of the room almost permanently for the last last nine years or so.

Which was fine until I got to the fire station. If I am to move it I need somewhere to store it and if I am to store it I need to put it in its storage bag. Here's the question: how the bally boop do I get something that size into a bag that size? 

It came out of the bag but this is as far as I can get compressing it.

It seems that unless I bend the metal framework there is no way it will go in. And I don't think that's a good idea.

I have plenty of time but not bother enough to waste on it so I've tied it with string and it will stay that way unless you, my wonderful blogging friends, can come up with the answer.

My clean, empty, very sad lounge.

Excuse the heavy breathing

I have resolved to - maybe let's say - try to start each day of isolation with a short exercise session. Very short but as you can probably hear over the ether enough to get me panting.

It's a combination of the two classes I do normally. Hopefully as I get into it I will develop it further but for now, today, it takes this form:
cardio involving lots of bouncing and jogging and kicking to George Ezra's Shotgun;
one minute of abdominal crunches;
one minute of ski squats;
one minute of press-ups;
same cardio routine to Shotgun.

In actual fact I did more than one minute of each of the floor exercises because I set the timer on my watch but haven't yet worked out how to make it beep at the end. Tomorrow I will put on my glasses and make sure I've got it right before I begin. Saying that reminds me that I get quite a lot of exercise each day simply looking for the right pair of glasses.

If I don't do some exercise when we finally return to classes it will be hell.

Also I was shocked, shocked to the core I tell you, in Slimming World last night: I had put on two and a half pounds! I never put on that much in a week, even over Christmas or holidays, and I'd had a good week, feeling revitalised and ready to go for it again. I was so stunned I made him restart the machine and weigh me again. With the same result of course.

I always at home first thing on Tuesday mornings as well so I was keen to see what my scales say. I had indeed put on weight but only half a pound. I am beginning to think that good weeks aren't good for me but that ice cream weeks are. So it's a shame that we can't go to Verdi's. 

The children are nagging us like mad to isolate. I am going out today - to the library to stock up again and to buy some fresh food - but I have said I won't after that. This is going to be so peculiar.