Here in the UK we have just had the last bank holiday until Boxing Day. When you are working, bank holidays are an extra bonus that are very welcome but when you're retired you are apt to become rather indifferent to them. I must confess that Pam and I are both wrinklies and as a result bank holidays don't do a great deal for either of us.

About 75% of bank holidays (winter ones excepted) we visit the local car boot sale. This is an open air market where people sell the rubbish they don't want, to people who think it might be useful but then, probably, pass it on to a charity shop.  This year we even gave the car boot sale a miss.

Instead I climbed out onto the roof of the extension to pick up the moss that had fallen from the main house roof and to clean the top of the conservatory. It surprises me how much you can see from that roof. Reminded me of a song by George Formby -- "When I'm cleaning windows". There; that's given you a clue to my age but don't say you've never heard of George Formby.....here he is, just in case!!



It's best not to go on Lincolnshire roads on a bank holiday. At Cadwell Park, just outside of Lincolnshire town of Louth, there is a motorcycle nirvana called Superbike Cadwell Park. It is on the motor bike circuit for the national championship and this year it attracted a crowd of 40,000 -- yes 40,000 and I checked that three times.Can you imagine what the roads would have been like at turnout time? Probably not 40,000 motorbikes but at least 25,000 would-be champions all speeding along Lincolnshire's narrow roads making their ways home.



The other place we wrinklies are apt to avoid on bank holidays is the Lincolnshire seaside resort of Skegness. Our elder daughter, Mary, was with us a few years ago for an August bank holiday. By the way, if Mary ever invites you to a picnic then take your raincoat with you! To be true to her, though, the picnic she arranged for one of Pam's birthdays was the only hot and sunny day we had in the whole of that August. That visit to Skegness was an extremely fortunate one. We went in the afternoon and managed to find a roadside parking space quite quickly. The bonus here was that we actually found parking space on a bank holiday and it didn't cost us anything. Then whilst walking on the beach Mary found a £5 note. It must have been quite a few years ago because that £5 note bought tea for all of us !!!!!!

Skegness beach by EDD07

By EDD07

Hope you had a good bank holiday. Skegness on Boxing Day is very bracing. If you live nearby why not try it?

Skegness Clock Tower by mush2274

Pam and I had one of those days last Wednesday. Instead of taking a week's holiday away - we couldn't find any suitable place in north Norfolk that wasn't already booked - we decided to go out for day trips and spend the nights sleeping at home.

I had first visited Doncaster about 55 years ago. I had to change trains there on my way to college and one day I decided to spend a few hours there rather than go straight onto academia. In those days Doncaster was a large railway town and junction but today much of that railway base has disappeared.


A few years ago, we took Pam's sister, Ann, and her husband, Alan, to Doncaster on one of their visits here from Canada. We carefully chose a market day because this gives the visitor more to see. Even its most ardent supporters would hesitate to classify Doncaster as picturesque, however, the market is outstanding and it was to this that we took Ann and Alan. We had lunch, on that occasion, in a pub close to the market. The meals turned out to be  enormous, even though the prices were ridiculously low. Alan was so impressed by this that he took photographs of the meals. Some 18 months later Pam and I returned to Doncaster and sought out this pub but discovered that it had then closed down: more than likely due to the generous meals they were serving so cheaply.



We go back to Doncaster from time to time and always seem to go on market day. Earlier in the week I had checked on the Internet to find out what was the main market day. I was told that it was Wednesday so when Wednesday came we went down to our railway station nice and early to catch the fast train to Doncaster. The weather that day was perfect and we were hoping for another full and interesting time there.


However, things didn't quite turn out as we anticipated. The market was there and all the stores we would expect to see in the open market were present, but many of the stalls in the indoor markets were closed with only about 10% open. Pam looks forward to visiting the card making stalls at the market, but was most disappointed to find these were also closed.  It's been about 35 years since Wednesday stopped being a shopping half day in this country with stores closing for the afternoon,  but obviously Doncaster has not caught on because not only were many of the market stalls closed but quite a few of the individual shops were closed as well. I even found some charity shops were closed for the day. Oh well, we decided we'd just have to lump it and like it.


But then came lunch..... which we decided to have in one of the national departmental stores. Mistake! Pam's "all day breakfast" looked and tasted as though it had been on the hotplate "all day". My panini, when heated, resembled in both texture and taste an oblong piece of concrete. I must confess, though, in fairness to the unnamed national store that I am not an expert when it comes to the taste of concrete - at least I wasn't before this visit. Even the coffee offered a remarkable resemblance to washing-up water - in both taste and appearance.


We wandered around the many closed shops in town until the time to catch the train back to Lincoln. The train we were after was the equivalent of a fast connection that brought us from Lincoln to Doncaster in 50 minutes. We went to the correct platform and there was a train with "Lincoln Central" written on the front as its destination. Unfortunately, for us, the particular train that we caught was not the fast version express from Doncaster to Lincoln but a slow train  went via Sheffield and took the best part of 2 1/2 hours to arrive at our destination. We saw the train we should have caught as we were pulling out of the station and all we could do was wave to it and go on our way to the steel city. The train wasn't even comfortable. Northern Railway carriages resemble the old-fashioned type of double-decker bus seating, which wasn't renown for comfort. So by the time we arrived at Lincoln our "bums were numb".


There wasn't much we could do about the day except to determine that the next time we go to Doncaster it will not be on a Wednesday.


To cheer up the post - I include some photos from the Pinchbeck flower festival that I have worked on. Hope you like them.

BY GUEST BLOGGER PETE

You, dear reader of this blog, may well know all about "FLICKR" and may have been using it for years.  However, there might be just one reader who has no idea what "FLICKR" is.


Ruth introduced me to FLICKR about 18 months ago and until that point, although I had heard of it, I didn't even realise that the spelling was "FLICKR" and not "FLICKER".  How backward can you become?


Basically, FLICKR is a site for showing off your photographs.  However, once you get started on it you'll find yourself picking up all sorts of photographic tips and improvement ideas.  The membership forums usually have someone who will answer your questions and be able to help you undertake all manner of adaptions to your photos.


You also make FLICKR contacts or friends quite easily.  FLICKR has, quite literally, thousands of groups open for you to join - each group offering a specific aspect of photography.  For example, I am interested in kaleidoscopes and there are a number of groups with large memberships who share my interest.  There are also groups for photos of cities, towns, villages, hamlets etc, all over the world.


I started and administer a group under the heading of "Cathedral and Church Flower Festivals".  It's one of the smaller groups - minute compared to most - but it has plenty of members' photos in its pool.


Opening a FLICKR account is straight forward.  It costs absolutely nothing and provides you with a limited amount of free storage for your photos on the internet but no restrictions on the number of groups you can join or other folks' photos that you can view.


For a small annual subscription you become, in rather pretentious FLICKR language, a "PRO".  Now you can upload as many photos as you wish as often as you wish.


There is also the possibility that some of your photos will be published.  A number of mine have been been.  The latest - last month - you will find on www.stepupfinance.com/down-town.  My photo is the rather weird one at the beginning.


You're also quite welcome to visit my FLICKR site - Peter 2010


and Ruth's FLICKR - Birdland Creations site as well.


Give FLICKR a go if you haven't already.  Basically its not going to cost you a penny or a cent!.

BY GUEST BLOGGER PETE

I've never really been convinced when people in this area tell me that San Francisco is prone to cold and foggy weather.  Every time I've been there it has been bright and sunny.  Closely followed by New York, I would say that San Francisco is my favourite from the various US cities I've visited.


The trip we made to San Francisco just before our return to the UK looked as though we were about to lose our "good weather everytime we visit San Francisco" record.  We set off from Glen Ellen in overcast and foggy conditions and made the trip to Larkspur in just under the hour.


We'd taken a ferry to Angel Island before but never to the big city.  So the four of us boarded the "Mendocino" and set sail for the 35 minute trip.  As we pulled alongside the ferry terminal in San Francisco, the fog cleared and the sun broke through.  Phew!  For a while there, I thought we'd lost our record!


The ferry building and the Farmers' market outside were as colorful and interesting to satisfy any photographer and I was in my element.


We armed ourselves for the fray by having one of the strongest cups of coffee I have ever been fortified with! If you fancy strong - I really do mean STRONG - coffee, then go to the west end of the Ferry Building to Blue Bottle Coffee.  There you'll see a queue outside the coffee stall.  Pull your hat down tight and prepare yourself!!!


All the stallholder outside the building didn't object to photos being taken of their stalls.  When I get home, Photoshop will be working overtime; but then there's nothing new about that!


After lunch at a restaurant with seats outside, I set off along Market Street towards Union Square.  This Square is one of my favourite spots in the city. Why?  Because:
1. There is a very good Borders bookshop there
2. The square itself is open, clean and welcoming
3. It's a great spot to do some people watching.  In fact I think I'd make it number 1 on my people watching locations.


The four of us met up back at the Ferry Building to pick up the return ferry to Larkspur.  Pam had an advance kip on the ship but the rest of us waited until we arrived home for our little nap!  A great day out!

BY GUEST BLOGGER PETE

For my Fathers' Day present, Ruth had booked a photography excursion for us both in a nearby vineyard.  It was a good day out, but unfortunately, although much larger than Ruth and John's the vineyard was no where near as attractive.

There were 5 of us in the group - led by Dave from Rohnert Park, who had been a wine maker.  It was a bit disappointing that he spent so much of his time telling us about grapes and wine-tasting and very little about the art of photography.  That could have been because 2 of the 5 participants weren't photographers and came to accompany their photographer daughter. 


Ruth and I enjoyed the day and found some great shots to take.  I overdid the bunches of grapes photos but with a digital camera that's not at all important.


Almost unbelievably, it was a cloudy day.  This was fine because the lack of sunlight made the taking of photographs a lot easier than in conditions of bright sunlight and dark shade.


About three quarters of the way through the tour, Dave reminded us to look out for snakes, adding the rider that they wouldn't be out in the overcast conditions anyway.

Some of the most interesting shots were the rows of vines leading the eye up to a feature in the hills beyond.


The vineyard - B. R. Cohn - is situated just out of Sonoma.  Bruce Cohn, the founder and owner, had at one time been the manager of a group of musicians - The Doobie Brothers. The group had broken up and Bruce had then bought the acreage for the vineyard.  A few years later he arranged a charity music festival and his old group reformed for the occasion in order to take part in the concert.



That night was so successful that the group have stayed together and the one off concert is now an annual event.  The vineyard is a perfect setting in which to enjoy music.


When we returned to the visitor center a huge lunch was given to us. I'm sure that my lunch along would have fed all 5 of us!


After lunch, Ruth and I took some floral photographs and also four unusual and attractive fun sculptures by an artist living nearby in Sebastopol - Patrick Amiot.  If you are ever in that California town - hunt out Florence Street where the sculptor lives. Almost every house on that street has a piece of his work on display in their gardens.


A good, enjoyable, fun and even unusual day. And the sun broke through the fog at lunch time.

I can't remember whether or not we've ever visited Tiverton before.  If we have then it must have been years ago because neither of us could remember anything at all about the town, which we visited last weekend.  One thing I did notice is that it must be one of the few Devon towns where cream teas are not being sold in every other shop - not that Pam and I were interested in the least about cream teas!



The reason for the visit was to join with our nephew, Peter, and his wife, Anne, in the celebrations for their 40th wedding anniversary - Ruby Anniversary.  It was a very successful and enjoyable celebration, even though the weather up to the day and the weather after the day was so much better than the weather on the day.  But that didn't dampen folks' spirits.  Peter and Anne have a large garden - I reckon as Peter gets older that large will become immense - and so they were able to erect a good sized marquee for all the guests to meet in.  Conversation flowed as acquaintances were renewed and introductions made between folk who had never met before.  A jazz band - made up of septuagenarians - played some great music and there was even a dance floor laid out in the marquee,  The first time I've ever danced UPHILL and then DOWN HILL!  I bet they don't have to contend with that in "Strictly Come Dancing"!!!!


A hog roast, complete with etceteras, was served to feed the hungry 80 or so guests.  I don't know if it was "nearly 80" or "nearly 90" but you'll get the drift, I'm sure.

Pam and I travelled down and back from Tiverton by coach.  The journey down took 10 hours - due to congestion from Bank holiday weekend traffic - and the return one 9 hours.


When we arrived in Tiverton it struck me that the ten hours it took us to get there was the same amount of time it takes for us to fly from Heathrow to San Francisco when we go over to see Ruth and John.  There were, however, 2 main differences:
          i)  We were able to leave the coach four times in order to stretch our legs.  Something even first class air travellers can't do on a flight!
         ii)  There was no jet lag.

Keep travelling and why not leave the molbile phone at home?

By guest blogger Pete.


As I get older I find that my forgetfulness increases.  Just before Pam and I left our elder daughter, after a recent visit to her, my younger grandson gave me a list of "T.T."s for me to use in this blog.  When I arrived home I put that list in a safe place.  MISTAKE - BIGBIGBIGMISTAKE.  I can't find it now because I've forgotten where that "safe location" is. Sorry, Peter.  If you will email me another list of "T.T."s then I'll be able to use it next week.  In the meantime; "T.T."means..............  Well, I'll tell you next week.


Some of you have probably come to realise that I am a photography nut. (John knew this years ago).  A couple of years ago I spent a day in London and roamed around the old city area surrounding St Paul's Cathedral.  I managed to get some great shots of interiors from some of the very old churches there.  A few weeks ago, whilst on that visit to Mary, I decided to investigate some of the churches in the city of Westminster.


As one does - why do folk never say "As two do"? - I googled "City of Westminster churches" and this produced a whole list of places for me.  Thus it was that I came across one of the most beautiful churches that I've ever visited.  It's not on any tourist map and it's a few miles away from the city centre.  You could well say that this is one of London's hidden treasures.


The church I am referring to is St Augustine, Kilburn.  It is an easy church to find if you approach it from the London Underground.  Kilburn has two underground stations - the one I used was Kilburn Park.  As you leave the station you can see the tower of the church quite clearly - terra cotta red in colour - and it is about 5 minutes walk away.


The interior of the church is a Biblical art treasure.  There are wonderful wall paintings, mosaics, tiling, colour, stained glass - you name it this place has got it.  St Augustine's Church is an Anglo-Catholic COE Church built, I think, in early Victorian times. 


The whole of the interior - wall space and floor space - is a continuous work of art.  I haven't finished the photos that I took when I visited  but I'll post some with this blog to give you an idea of what the interior of the building is like.


The Vicar, a really helpful and friendly man, dare not leave the church open and unattended.  The last time he did this two very valuable paintings were stolen.  The building stands in a deprived area of the city and its exterior is showing signs of vandalism and damage.  The Vicar is willing to arrange access to the church at mutually convenient times (the Vicarage is in the Church grounds).  If you're a tourist visiting London or someone who likes photographing churches then contact me through the "comments" section of this blog and I'll let you have his name and contact number.


Have a great Easter.  This is the most triumphant festival of the Christian year so "ENJOY"!

By guest blogger Pete.

I mentioned previously in this blog that Pam and I were going to London for an elongated weekend with our daughter, Mary, and her family.  We had a great time there but both felt rather tired by the time we arrived home after a torturous journey home!

We were traveling by train and after signal failures in various places, delays, missing connections, slow taxi rides to get to other connections which we still missed.......it was not one of those travel experiences you want to remember! 


We were so exhausted by the time we got home, we didn't even have the energy to cook dinner!  


Whilst in London our two grandsons brought us up to date with the latest in "T. T.".  Come on now!  Work it out!  As my elder grandson said to me recently, " Do try and keep up, Grandad!".  I'll let you into some of the secrets of "T. T." next week  and tell you more about the good parts of our trip!

Keep on thinking about what "T. T." can possibly mean.  It will probably drive you bonkers but the brain exercise will be good for you.

See the sidebar for Jennifer's etsy store or click here: http://www.etsy.com/shop/jenniferwhitmer

On St. Valentine's Day I read Ruth's post about National Nest Box Week, a yearly event, sponsored by  the British Trust for Ornithology (BTO). For a week beginning on Valentine's Day nest boxes are placed in gardens all over the UK.  I was galvanized to get a nest box in our garden! The birds in North America, as  well as in the UK, have lost many of their natural nesting sites and their populations have been dwindling. The birds could use our help.



I clicked onto Ruth's link for the BTO where there are simple instructions for building your own nest box.  I printed out the instructions and gave them to my Valentine who is very clever with a cop saw, hammer and nails. In no time at all, as you can see, he made 2 lovely nest boxes from scrap wood found out in the garden. We hung one box on the grape arbor and the second in the apple tree (not too close together - birds like their space) and are hoping the song sparrows will be tempted by these comfortable lodgings.


The BTO began National Nest Box Week in 1997 and over the years there are believed to now be 5 - 6 million boxes in gardens all across the UK. They have significantly increased their bird population one box at a time! This makes my heart glad.



On February 14, my Valentine presented me with two  abandoned bird's nests that he found while pruning: a song bird's pensile nest (not shown) in the lemon tree, and a jay's cup nest (shown) found buried in the front hedge. I meant to take a picture of them for you (they were side by side) since they were unusual Valentine's Day gifts but someone (a bird!) has made off with the pensile nest! Thief! To be fair, how could any bird resist a pile of ready nesting materials? Now I'm curious to see if the robins or jays will start robbing twigs from the cup nest. It's always exciting out here in nature.

By guest blogger Pete.

No.  I wouldn't have thought it possible.  I wouldn't have believed it if I hadn't witnessed it myself and seen it with my own eyes.  What is this miracle of the second decade of the 21st Century?  Well, yesterday the 19th day of February in the year 2010, Pam went into the garden and worked there for approximately  half an hour!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
 


I just couldn't believe it.  Now, don't get me wrong.  The unbelievable part isn't the fact that Pam went out to work in the garden.  Far from it.  In fact, she, rather enjoys a bit of gardening.  I must confess to enjoying it more in the warmer months than in the colder ones.  The unbelievable aspect is that since our marriage - "??" years ago -  there has been an unwritten rule (also an unbroken rule) that the earliest we'll get out into the garden is late March or early April.  Yet here was Pam cutting back the passion flowers as if it was mid-summer's day!  I couldn't believe it.

I also find it difficult to believe the weather we've had this week.  We have had the inevitable rain, a smattering of snow, heavy frosts, black ice and two days of sunshine for yesterday and today.  So in a week we've experienced something I wouldn't have thought possible.  AND there are 12+ hours remaining for a tornado to turn up.

Perhaps cutting back the Passion Flowers was a wee bit early - could be that a heavy frost or two will come along and those passion flowers will move to that glass house in the sky.  Not a disaster, though, if that does happen but I will be surprised if it does.  The flowers have been in their present location for over ten years and a non passion flower plant might make a nice change when we go to the garage.  Ruth and John had a passion flower when they lived near Hereford.  They rashly asked me how they should look after it.  I recommended cutting it back March or early April.  Their passion flower died.  I couldn't believe it and they've never forgotten it.
 


Do you know how the passion flower got its name?  A little work for you to do then.  Look at a picture of a passion flower and find the following:
     a)  Crown  of thorns.
     B)  Multitude.
     c}  Disciples.  (You may not find more than ten.  Judas Iscariot is missing and, from time to time, one of the other disciples slips out for a cup of coffee)!  Bet you didn't know that.  It's impossible to believe .
     d)  Marks of the nails.
     e)  Father, Son and Holy Spirit.

I wouldn't have believed it possible if I hadn't heard it with my own ears.  G. B. has won a gold - spelt G - O - L - D  - medal at the Winter Olympics.  Amy Williams was our successful candidate and I can't believe that she doesn't come from Lincolnshire!   It's our first gold - spelt G - O - L - D  -medal from the Winter Olympics for 30 years.  Hard to believe that.  Especially as this year we've had more snow in Lincolnshire than they've had at Whistler!!!!

Go on looking.  You may be surprised by the things you see.  You may even say, "I can't believe it!"

By guest blogger Pete.

Yes, you have read that correctly. Lincoln sets the pace for the rest of the country to follow - often takes them a bit of time (like 2012) but they get there eventually!

Our Olympics weren't affected at all by the weather. We're tough folk here and snow or frost, gales and floods don't put us off. Everyone was present for the opening ceremony first event and everyone stayed to enjoy the rich triumphant closing celebrations. We even had medals! Who has ever heard of an Olympics where there weren't medals? We do things properly in this part of the world.


Our Olympics were the Christmas celebrations of the CAMEO Club. I've mentioned this Club before but in case you've forgotten (not, coming from Lincoln and all that) CAMEO stands for "Come and Meet Each Other". In our events 80+ years olds competed with teenagers and some won gold medals. The events we had were things like the "200 yard Puff". Teams are given a balloon and without using their hands they have to blow it between the legs of a chair - there is only ONE chair so the fun starts when they all arrive at the chair at the same time. High Jump is a spelling contest, with a word added to each spelling requirement per round (i.e. 5 letters, then 6 then 7, etc.).. An 84 year old lady won this so walked away with a gold medal. The Javelin was an even where straws were thrown; the hammer was throwing a opened paper handkerchief; the Marathon was equated with bouncing a tennis ball and there were various other events to test people's talents. I first used this idea when teaching English to 13 year olds, where events were equated with English language skills. If you want further details then please contact me through the "COMMENTS" link on this blog.


On a more serious note, the really good news that greeted Lincoln folk and which made the ending of 2009 so joyful was the release of a Lincoln man, Peter Moore. Peter was an I.T. financial consultant working in Iraq and had been held hostage for 946 days. As you can imagine, he was under tremendous pressure during that captivity and that continued right up to his actual release. He commented that as he was taken to be released he was convinced that, in actual fact, he was about to be assassinated.


A candle has been burning 24 hours every day of Peter's captivity. The Bishop of Lincoln, in a broadcast this morning, said it would be kept alight so that when Peter returned to Lincoln he could extinguish it. The only but very real sadness connected to the event was that Peter's four bodyguards were all executed.


It's New Year's Eve as I write this blog. The photos are from a recent visit to Kew Gardens - I know - not the most seasonal...but maybe they'll get you thinking of spring, just around the corner.....

I wish you all a blessed and very happy New Year. Keep on hoping, as Peter, his parents and so many folk in Lincoln and Lincolnshire, did.

By guest blogger Pete.

In last week's blog I wrote to you about our adventures with the real Christmas tree that I had been entrusted to obtain. However, last week's episode wasn't the complete picture because, as everyone knows, Christmas trees, real or artificial, need decorations and lights. We do have some but these have been used for years to beautify the artificial tree we erect in the lounge. It must be something like ten years since we last bought those lights for the artificial tree (and a very realistic artificial one it is) and no mean achievement that they're still lighting on demand.


The best place to buy Christmas tree lights in Lincoln is from a large D.I.Y. store on the outskirts of the city. Thus it was to this D.I.Y. Nirvana that Pam and I set off. Upon arrival we were met by an astonishing array of tree lights for outdoor use, indoor use and for both outdoor and indoor use. Now this visit took place some 3 weeks of so before Christmas so imagine our surprise when we found that the store has sold out of a large proportion of their lights, even some of those on display, Talk about "whetting the appetite"! However, the good news was that the remaining lights had been reduced by 50% so, consoling ourselves with this information, we bought two sets of lights from the real tree.


Christmas decorations and ornaments of the non lighting up variety were in abundance in this store. I soon had all the Fr Christmases "ho, ho, hoing", the reindeer rocking to jazzed up Christmas carols and assorted other animals doing various things. Well, there was a little sticker on them inviting me to "press here"! Every one of these ornaments had the common feature of a Christmas carol but here they were all different and playing at differing times so by the time we had some dancing Santas doing their stuff on the store floor we'd gathered quite an appreciative audience around us. The staff at "B & Q" - the D.I.Y. store in question - were most understanding about the eccentric behaviour of this elderly customer and even seemed to enjoy the fun.


The school children came to church, just before the end of their term, for the annual Christingle Service. For those unfamiliar with the Christingle idea, the children collect money for "The Children's Society" and, in return, they're given a Christingle. Now a Christingle is an orange with a candle stuck into the top. There is a red band around the middle of the orange and wooden tooth picks with sultanas, raisins and sweets on them, stuck into that orange. The orange represents the world and the candle the light that Christ brings into that world. The red band is for the blood of Christ shed for us and the goodies on the tooth picks are for the fruits of the earth given to us by God. The usual (dangerous sometimes) custom is that the candles are lit but with such young children it was thought best to light only the candles for the 6th year children, which a teacher, with a lot of puff, blew out after each child had walked about ten yards to where she was standing. Every child, however, was given a Christingle. It was a very happy occasion for everyone there.


The photos this week are of computer paintings. Hope you enjoy them.


Remember the Christmas season goes on until January 6th so keep on celebrating Christ's birth.

By guest blogger Pete.

We are being told that this October is well on the way towards breaking records for mildness. I must confess that I am not really surprised by that news. I can't remember an October as mild as this one and I've lived through quite a few Octobers. Reading this morning's paper I was reminded that this time last year we had a covering of snow. I can vaguely remember that. We only need about 1cm of snow in this country for schools to close, local radio stations to run hot lines on the adverse weather conditions and advising folk to have flu jabs, Supermarkets to run out of bread and sugar and lorries to jack knife into folk's gardens. It's just as well that we don't get the sort of winters that other European countries endure.

The leaves are beginning to drop now but without much rain even they are looking attractive as they lay like a carpet on the lawns and pavements. My magnolia tree still hasn't caught on to the fact that this is the time for shedding leaves. There were ten leaves last week and I would estimate that this has grown to fifteen this week. That's still a lot of leaves to fall. Perhaps my magnolia is going to be the first evergreen magnolia. Fame and fortune could come even at this late date.

Quite a few moons ago - once again I've seen quite a few moons come and go - Ruth lived in rural Herefordshire at a rather attractive and not over large market town. That town is Ledbury and it was here that she met John. On our first visit to Ledbury to see her she took us on a tour of the surrounding countryside, during which we stopped off at one of Gloucestershire's vineyards. The grapes were quite tasty but I'll not make any comment about the wine except to say that I've walked with a limp ever since!. Oh dear!!!!! ------------ there goes the one Gloucestershire reader of this blog. Bye.

From that vineyard we mover on to an orchard specialising in Victoria plums. Now they are a delight on any palette. A little taste of bliss. I can remember buying a tray of them to take home with us - not to waste on jam making but rather to make a pig of myself just by eating them.

Soon after returning home we bought a Victoria Plum tree. By the third year we had plums everywhere and our popularity with the neighbours has never been higher as they became recipients of our plum bounty. The next year wasn't too good so the popularity stakes fell dramatically. The following year was a complete failure so I put on my check lumberjack shirt and that was the end of that Victoria Plum tree.

A suitable length of time has elapsed since the demise of that tree - long enough to make sure that the baddies who invaded it have moved off to invade other folks' trees. Five days ago we went off to the local Garden Centre and bought another Victoria Plum tree. The deceased tree grew to about 50 foot and it was a matter of risking life and limb to get to all the fruit. We were assured that this one would not exceed the three metre mark. I do wish people would give measurements in English - but that's another story. It's best to plant plum trees during October or November - that is the time they grow the most. Mind you, I've had this one for five days and there's still no sign of any fruit.

The painting is finished and the next one begun. Two photos to keep you up to date with progress and a few more photos of no particular relevance to this blog.

Keep eating the plums or else there will be a dearth of them.

By guest blogger Pete.

A couple of weeks ago we paid a visit to our elder daughter, Mary,and her family. We spent some five days with them on that trip. Mary, Fin and the two boys live in a large house with a fair sized garden. They inherited this garden some 6 or 7 years ago and it was obviously one that lacked love from the previous householder. Mary and Fin have worked to keep the garden up to scratch and this year they have had the back garden terraced. One of our trips out whilst at Croxley was to buy plants for the new piece of garden. Pam took some photos so these first two pictures are her's.



On one of the days during our visit, we went to Hatfield House. It doesn't possess what you would call an impressive facade but T.V. and filming crew vehicles covered most of the frontage and even improved it quite a bit!! They were shooting an episode of "Miss Marples" when we were there but they must have been working indoors because we saw very few signs of activity outside. I think it was Henry VIII who deposited his children at Hatfield; at least Elizabeth I spent much of her childhood there.


Fin, like me, is a photography nut. Pam and Mary are into making cards and the two boys into rugby and football ("Why not cricket? I ask.). Thus on the Saturday Pam and Mary went to "Ally Pally" (Alexandra Palace) for a craft event and Fin and I sped off to Kew Gardens. If you've never been to Kew then I'm afraid you've missed a real treat. You must go! It's a wee bit expensive to get in but well worth it. Even though there was not the usual amount of colour that other seasons of the year provide there was still enough to keep Fin and me happy. Many of the trees were glorious and the orchid house was a real splash of vibrant colour.


Next week we're off to the Cotswolds for seven days. When you retire you can get around a bit more than you could when working. This trip will be the last bit of gallivanting for us this year. Mary, Fin and the boys are coming to us for Christmas so we're both looking forward in anticipation to that.

Keep on with the gardening! If you don't do it then someone in the future will have bad thoughts about you!!!!!!

By guest blogger Pete.

Things are settling down again and the normality of everyday living has returned. It's September. The children have returned to school so it's possible to visit the city and not have to walk sideways through the crowds. First timers at their new schools, shaking in their shoes (and this refers to new teachers as well!) have taken the step over the threshold that might well be the start of something great - i.e. becoming Prime Minister or a position of some similar ilk. Poor little devils! Clubs of various sorts are reopening again all over the city and Adult Education class are in full swing. (For "adult" read someone who needs an academic qualification. At one time you could learn French for fun but our city fathers have decreed that you cannot enjoy education because you must take an exam at the end of the course).


But if September marks a return to normality what does it say about August? Is August an abnormal month? My father died during the war and my childhood Augusts were spent with my brother (15 years my senior) and his wife in the smallish Yorkshire market town of Stokesley. If you're in that area keep on the bypass! During those August months I managed to purloin his father-in-law's bike and cycled for miles around the district. One of my favourite places was 2 or 3 miles from Stokesley, a village called Great Ayton. This place has a very attractive village green with a "beck" running through the middle of it. The ideal place to go to avoid having to run errands in Stokesley and, on a hot summer's day, a great location to lay in the grass and read a "Biggles" adventure of the "Just William" book borrowed from the Stokesley library on my brother's ticket.


Tuesday evening's were special during those Augusts. Then my brother and I would make the 12 mile or so journey into Middlesborough and visit the local speedway. I used to be enthralled by the noise of those bikes and the general atmosphere around the track. I was impressed by the bravery of the riders as they went into skidding turns around the bends, sometimes secretly enjoying the odd accident especially if it involved one of the visiting riders. If WE'D beaten the opposition I'd go back to Stokesley "on top of the moon".


Back in Southampton, where I lived, my sister, 10 years older than me, arranged for a friend of hers to take me to the Southampton Speedway on a Thursday evening. Here I found the same magic that I had first encountered at Middlesborough. I can picture that track now but can remember the name of only one of those dare devil riders. That name is Jim Bason. Why I should remember it I don't know. He wasn't anywhere near an idol of mine and his skills never did impress me.


Speedway as a sport was copied my many of my teenage peers in the Southampton area. Any waste piece of ground was quickly adapted into a cycle speedway track, complete with dusty bends so that the riders, with the help of brakes, could go into breath taking slides (even though such skidding slowed them down considerably). Cycle speedway teams grew up all around the city. 'Silly girls' weren't allowed to ride but on occasions when a match had been arranged with another team they could come and cheer us on. If they wanted any of us to speak to them during the following week then it was imperative for them to come and support us. Intense rivalry grew up between the teams but I can recall no occasion when fisticuffs resulted. That intense rivalry was all part of the sport and everyone enjoyed it. It could give you "boasting" rights until the return match had been arranged. If you lost a match then there was always a more than plausible excuse; your best rider's parents had decided, at short notice, to emigrate to Siberia and he had had to go with them.


August an abnormal month? Not really! It was just a different month.

By guest blogger Pete.

A week ago last Thursday, Pam and I set out to visit a friend of a good few years, who now lives in Chesterfield. Chesterfield was our home in the late 1960s and early 1970s and we have many fond memories of it.


To the east of the town lay the Derbyshire coal mines - gone now!! The picturesque mining villages remain - picturesque in appearance but not even utilitarian to live in. Quite a few from the mining community lived in Chesterfield and the Markham Pit Disaster in the 1970s hit the town very badly. On that occasion the pit cage dropped from the top of the mine shaft right to the bottom, killing all who were in it. All that almost immediately after the annual 2 week holiday period when most of the important maintenance work would have been undertaken.


To the north of the town - now unseparated from it by any green belt area - lies Sheffield. At one time this was the steel making centre of the U.K. but I'm not sure what it is the centre of these days. When we lived in Chesterfield the skyline from the city centre was a mass of flats. It's a long time since we were last there but I think they've all gone now.


Derby, the county capital, lies to the south and this is well and truly separated from Chesterfield by green belt areas and smallish villages and towns. Derby and trains used to be synonymous but I think that link has gone also.


Chesterfield is the gateway to the National Peak District (lying east and south of the town), which is one of the most beautiful parts of the UK. Here you can see Derbyshire at its very best with views to take your breathe away. There are hills and valleys where ever you care to look and some of the most attractive villages in the country. Eyam, one of the villages in the Park, was also one of the plague villages centuries ago and was the place referred to in the nursery rhyme "Ring a ring of roses".


Ask most people in the UK what they know about Chesterfield and the answer would be that the Parish Church has a crooked spire. You really have to see this spire to believe it. If it was built today the "'elf and safety" people would soon have had it pulled down. How it came to be so crooked and twisted can only be surmised. Popular opinion says that they used green timber to build it and when the timber dried out so the spire twisted.


Chesterfield used to have plenty of heavy industry to employ its citizens but all that has gone now. In the area we lived such major factories as "Chesterfield Tubes" and "Brian Donkins" flourished. Now these factories have been replaced by rows of guppy style flats and employment is not so plentiful.

Chesterfield can still boast of what, I consider, to be the best open air market in the country. Different days bring different types of market. Thursday is flea market day when most of the stalls sell a wide assortment of 2nd hand collectibles and rubbish. You have to be there to see it. You don't have to buy anything to really enjoy an interesting morning wandering around the various stalls.

When we first arrived we had a cup of coffee sitting out in the shopping arcade. We hadn't been there for more that a few minutes or so when we were accosted by two people. It's over forty years now since I married them. Good place for reunions, Chesterfield.

If you're ever in the Peak District then do give Chesterfield a visit.

By guest blogger Pete

Yes!. It's an emergency. The orchids are definitely on the decline and, although obviously stressed out, look as though there is no chance of a recovery. (Readers of last week's blog will remember that the givers of the orchids told my wife that they flourish best under stress). I'm afraid that I've not had the heart to shout at then again; but I did remark that they've got two days to go and that remark was made yesterday. If you're an orchid miracle worker then it's now too late. Why didn't you answer my plea of last week?


Every true blooded, right minded, upstanding, conscientious, humble, intelligent, etc, etc, English man (like me - i.e. one who supports and follows the noble game of cricket) is now rejoicing with a joy not experienced since 2005. We beat the Australians in the final test match and regained the Ashes by two games to one. With a football team that would struggle to beat the Orkney Islands, true blooded Englishmen can walk with heads held high once again. It might not be the winning that counts but it is the Australians who are now mourning. There's something really special about beating the arch cricketing rivals from Australia.









With the art group starting again soon, I've been doing some preliminary work on my next project. One of the scary things about painting is that you are never sure what the finished product will look like - at least "I'm never sure" although I expect for people like Monet it was probably a forgone conclusion. I've included a scan with this blog of my work so far. It's a ink sketch of Lincoln Cathedral based on a photo I took during the recent photo walk in the city. The group doesn't start until next month but I'll update the scan as I go and keep you in touch with developments unless............................................


I've always thought that the colour black has had a bad press for decades. It may well be a dominant colour that can easily swallow up other colours and details in one gulp but it's also a colour with such a contrast that it can be used to emphasise other colours and achieve an effect that you won't find elsewhere. I hope the other photos in this blog illustrate that. Any comments welcome.


A thought for the end of this blog. Why don't the Americans learn to play a game that demands skill like .....................? I'd better leave it there or else the "blog boss" will be making more remarks about my addiction to a certain game. "OWZAT"

By guest blogger Pete

For a number of years now, Napp (National Association of Photoshop Professionals) has organised an international photo walk. Why the title has the word "professional" in it I don't know. Members number both professional and amateurs. I was a member until some 2 years ago but left because the members area became swamped with Adobe Lightroom rather than Adobe Photoshop. But if you are interested in photography (and haven't yet done so) you can have a look at what sort of things they get up to by logging onto photoshopusertv.com. But I deviate from my first sentence and must return to that.

The photo walk involves that, on a certain day, people from cities, town, villages and hamlets throughout the world go for a walk and take photos. Easy as that! The best photo from each participating group is then sent off to NAPP and the winners of the competition are awarded with some really good prizes.


I belong to a group called "Lincoln Photo Nomads". Membership is open to all and activities are arranged very competently by Richard, who founded what he refers to as "the most unorganised group of photographers ever". However, Lincoln Photo Nomads ended up as the Lincoln representatives for this competition and last Sunday some 40 or so members met together at the "Wig and Mitre" pub before setting out on the walk. The Wig and Mitre" serve a very good and reasonably priced cup of coffee - the pub is situated at the top of Steep Hill (next to Brown's Pie Shop), if you're ever in uphill Lincoln and fancy a coffee.


Anyway, after an initial briefing, we all separate and go our own ways for the photo walk. If we went as a group we fear that all the photographs would be dominated by studies of photographers taking photos of photographers taking photos of photographers taking photos, etc.

It's not easy to be original in your own city. In Lincoln we have many historical and attractive buildings but they've all been photographed by so many folk that's it's difficult to find an angle that hasn't been used before.


This year I made my way to Lincoln Castle. CCs have a reduced entrance fee so an investment of £2.70 seems potentially to be good value. "CCs", by the way, stands for Crabby Crinklies - not that I'm at all crabby and I haven't got a wrinkle or even a "crinkle". It was one of those days when the weather couldn't make up its mind - bright one minute an overcast the next.

I wasn't terribly thrilled with any of my photos so I decided that rather than send them in their original form I would doctor them up a little and see what results. I'll let you know when I'll be off to the States to collect all my prizes!


Lincoln is in chaos at the present moment.It's the height of the tourist season so the city fathers have decided that it's the ideal time to have the main arterial road into the city dug up. What is this essential work that JUST has to be done? Replace pedestrian road crossing lights and add some 25 yards of beige colouring on the asphalt. It took ten days to complete the first one an now we're well into the second. For anyone intending to visit Lincoln then let it be known that the High Street SHOULD be clear and open again by the end of November unless.....................


Keep on trying to get into Lincoln -- surprisingly, it is worth the struggle."

Editor's Note:
Hot off the Press.........Pete just found out that his photo - the first one shown here of Lincoln Cathedral, won the Photo Nomads competition and his photo now goes through to the final in the US! You can see it announced on the Photo Nomads blog here. Well done dad!

By guest blogger Pete

On Friday of this week - and for you, dear reader, LAST Friday - I am due to take the annual school leavers service for the pupils at St Peter at Gowts School. These leavers will not be finishing their education then but moving on from Primary School to the "Bigggggggg school". We have a lot of Eastern European children at St Peter's and this makes communication quite difficult at times, both with the pupils and also with their parents. Children do pick up English but whilst doing so there is a real danger of them falling behind in other subjects. St Peter's School serves a more deprived area of Lincoln and many of the pupils receive free school lunches and also free breakfasts. But before the move to the big school there is a 6 week summer holiday and no free meals available to any pupil.


As a youngster I lived in Southampton and each school holiday, my mother and I took the long trek from there up to northern Yorkshire to spend this holiday with my brother and his wife in the small market town of Stokesley.
Me and my brother Bill

Now Stokesley had - and still HAS - very little to offer anyone of any age. As a boy I can remember a dark little cinema - rather a flea pit - that showed old films about twice a week, Middlesbrough was about 12 miles away and occasionally there were visits to Ayresome Park to see Middlesbrough Football Club and its star players Wilf Mannion, Geoff Hardstaff (or it could be Hardcastle!) and their Italian goalkeeper, who rejoiced in the unusual name of Ugolini. More frequently, my brother - 15 years older than me - took me to see the Middlesbrough Speedway team in action.

Gradually I acquired "summer friends" at Stokesley and, when we'd saved sufficient pocket money, we'd beg a packed lunch and catch the bus to the seaside. Redcar and Saltburn were to two choices of destination we could head for.

Redcar was a rather run down resort - maybe it still is but I haven't been there for decades so can't say - and not our favourite. It could best be described as "Kiss me quick" hats and candy floss. I remember once going there with the family and my brother's mother-in-law expressed a before hidden delight in paying to be a passenger on a 20 minute rowing boat (quite large "rowing boat") ride from the shore and back again. Fortunately we didn't have to row for this was done by four or more burly fishermen. But then the final demand came out - the weather had to be bad and the water rough. It was both that day and, in my innocence, I was the only one in the group who said I'd go with her. I ended up having to travel the 1 hour bus journey back to Stokesley dripping wet. My cheerful mother told me that she wouldn't be at all surprised if the bus driver refused to take me, Take about Job's wife!!!!!!!


Saltburn was more upmarket. The town stands at the top of a tall cliff and so hasn't interfered with the sandy beach down below. It's a lovely beach there and, despite the fact that it was 1 1/2 hours by bus from Stokesley and therefore more expensive to get to, it was our favourite. Here we could play games and indulge in other beach activities, find an ice cream (if we were rich enough) and, providing we got the times of the tide right, could walk along the beach to nearby Marske and then back along the cliff top to Saltburn.


Despite all this, it was good to get back to Southampton, even if that meant a return to the drudgery of school.
Bill

Keep taking the sea air - if nothing else it helps the hair to grow.

By guest blogger Pete.

Well, to be more precise, "It was sweltering!" The week before our holiday to Suffolk the weather was great. Based on our experiences of how weather locally can quickly change we began to wonder whether or not we had chosen the wrong week for our East Anglian Expedition. Would we be snowed in or would the floods sweep away the cottage we had rented - and us? Would we see Lincoln again if we ventured out to our proposed destination? Well, the week we chose turned out to be absolutely sweltering. It was too hot to eat much but at least the local trade in cold drinks did well. The day we got home the weather broke and, on top of that, an hour after we got home a water pipe burst and we hadn't turned the water off whilst we were away. I think we were rather lucky there!!!!!!!!

One of our reasons for choosing Suffolk as the destination for our holiday was that it has a large portion of "Constable Country" within its borders. For those readers from other shores, Constable ranks high in the list of English artists. He was a Suffolk man and many of his paintings were set in that area around southern Suffolk and northern Essex. That area remains pretty well undisturbed by modern development, although some of the old houses have been taken over and converted into rather expensive and not always particularly good restaurants.


We started off our visit by calling into East Berghof - Constable's birthplace. In actual fact the house in which he was born has long gone but the church in which he worshipped remains unchanged except for the introduction of electricity. It appears that Constable's forefathers had difficult building a bell tower for their peal of bells. Perhaps the bells were too large and heavy - the present ones looked it - and the tower fell down . The decided on a temporary solution to this disaster and it was a temporary solution still in existence today. They built what I would describe as an open sided low barn and put the bells in that. The building is still in use, the bells still rung on a Sunday and the bell tower absolutely useless but rather decorative. I'll enclose a photo to show you what I mean.



Flatford Mill is the sight of a number of Constable's landscape paintings. Ignoring the not too many commercial signs, the area is pretty much as Constable would have known it. The house featured in, what is probably his most famous painting, "The Haywain" is still there and now privately owned. The River Stow at this point is much deeper that it appears in the painting and would suggest that only artistic license would allow a horse and cart to cross at the point it is doing in the painting.

The last place we visited had the unfortunate name of Dedham. Housed in the church here is one of only three non landscapes painted by Constable. This original Constable is on loan to the church and, although displayed above human reach, it is easy to see.


If you like ice cream and go to Dedham then walk down the road opposite the church. Just a little way down and you'll find a place that sells the largest ice cream cone I've ever come across and all for £1.40. If nothing else, one of those ice creams makes Dedham well worth visiting.

Keep on eating the ice cream - its wonderful stuff to be addicted to.

By guest blogger Pete.

I can only hope that none of the thousands of readers of this blog will be able to identify me through shared citizenship of Lincoln. The reason for this is because I'm going to talk about York in the same breath as Lincoln and that is something that the good citizens of Lincoln are not encouraged to do. Lincoln folk think that our city is far better than York (true) and York citizens mistakenly believe the opposite.


I must confess that we don't visit York too often - it's one of those places that is just too far for a comfortable one day visit and, knowing the area quite well, it's not the location for a longer break. If you visit both cities, though, you'll realise that York is by far the busier place with far more folk milling around making both the streets and the shops very crowded, decent street entertainment and a lovely river to have a boat trip on. One if the reasons for this tourist popularity is that York is tourist conscious whereas Lincoln appears to be quite slack (maybe not even "appears") about getting visitors into the city. I mentioned in one of my earlier blogs that we're about to close our two tourist offices. That has changed a little through, I think, private intervention to keep the Tourist Information Office near the Cathedral open. Parking within York is pretty awful - it's a little better in Lincoln (especially on a rainy day!!!). But York have overcome their parking problems by a number of Park and Ride locations around the outskirts of the city offering free parking and a bus trip into the centre of the city. Lincoln have been thinking about Park and Ride for the past 20 years or so but we still wait and the tourists drive round and round looking for somewhere.


Lincoln has a Cathedral and York a Minster. Both are magnificent buildings but here I come out strongly in favour of Lincoln. We visited York last year and I must confess that the Minster there looked tired, drab and somewhat grubby. There wasn't a great deal of colour there and colour is one of the things that you are immediately conscious of when entering Lincoln Cathedral. Also the sighting of Lincoln Cathedral atop a hill makes it dominate the city. It's more impressive than the setting of York even though that Minster is surrounded by the old city walls.


If you go to York, other than visit the Minster, walk along the Shambles and enjoy the many museums there. There's also a beautiful river to take a trip on. If you should come across a reasonable place for lunch - i.e. reasonable price and reasonable menu - then please let me know. All the years we've been going there we've never found any place decent for lunch. The photos this week are of York Minster - some of the better parts of that building!


If you come to Lincoln - well, there's the Cathedral, medieval houses, a Roman port, Romans walls, Roman city gates, parks, boat rides, good eating houses -- oh yes, and lousy parking.

Keep on visiting those interesting places.

By guest blogger Pete.

To visit Lincoln today you would find it hard to believe that, at one time, it was one of the heavy industrial centres of the U.K.. It was a Lincoln factory that produced the first tank for World War 1 and even aircraft production has taken place here. Today, though, all that is gone and the city has just one remaining heavy industry, named Siemens. Ownership of that group has changed hands fairly often over the past few years but it does appear to be stable at the moment with management talking of moving their city centre factory to the outskirts at North Hykeham.


Near by Grantham, where we once lived, has also suffered the same sort of loss with, amongst others, the closure of Coles Cranes and Avling Barfoot - the latter produced heavy industrial plant. This week a large dairy in the city was forced to close with the loss of 126 jobs. The other four diaries at various locations in the UK - all farmers' cooperatives - have followed the same fate and local farmers have received no income for May's production. Lincoln, at one time, as known as "Bicycle City"; today it's known as "Retirement City".


This recession is also having a say about when folk can retire. Private pension funds have been badly affected by the recession; many of those due to retire have felt fortunate if they've been able to carry on working rather than exist, as many retirees do, on a reduced pension.

Retirement is not looked forward to by some folk. But if you can afford it then it is definitely something to recommend. I wouldn't advocate a "couch potato" approach to it but then if that's want a person wants then who is to deny them that? There is, in most cases, no need to give up activities when you retire even though, at some stage, this may be unavoidable. It's rather a time for doing what you want to do when you want to do it. One of my neighbours - an old boy of 94 - advised me when I first retired to get all the chores done in the morning and have the rest of the day for yourself. He's still doing his own garden and house work - even goes for a walk every morning to collect his newspaper and the ingredients for his lunch.


I find that retirement is a time for indulging in hobbies. For me that mainly involves photography and the manipulation of photographs. I hope this week's photos show some of that despite their size. It's great fun. The first photo was the original one I took; the second some of the detail was removed to give an overall impression; the third I used high definition rendering; and the fourth was simplified but with colour exaggeration!


Answers to previous weeks' questions:
1) "TWTWTW" = That was the week that was.
2) "Where in SFIT" = Where in San Francisco is this?

By the way, the dvd/video sage is over. Got the machine back before Christmas after all!!

Go on looking forward and not backwards.

By guest blogger Pete

Where in "S. F. I. T?"

A little conundrum for readers across the pond from the U.K.. The letters should be connected to the photo of the cafeteria below and photos of some birds in a blog of a few weeks ago.

I must confess that it is a bit easier than the "T. W. T. W. T. W." of last week - but a "bit easier" only for those living across that rather large pond. For the U. K. readers - no one guessed the "TWTWTW" so two clues for you to ponder.
CLUE ONE : A well known and very popular Saturday evening BBC TV show of a few decades ago.
CLUE TWO : The first "T. W." stand for "That was".

My son-in-law, Fin, sent me the photos he had taken of my 50th anniversary of ordination celebrations. I am enclosing three of them with this week's Sunday Blog. The "people" one consists of my elder daughter, Mary, plus my two grandsons, Matthew and Peter, with my wife, Pam. They are standing at the entrance to our local church.


The "rogues gallery" are priests with links stretching back, in some cases, over 40 years. The man of the left, dressed differently from the others, is an Orthodox priest, who was one of my ordinands.

The 3rd photo is of the cake that a friend made and my multi-talented wife iced.


Yesterday I paid another visit to the local school to lead an assembly. This is always great fun. St Peter's School is not a large ones so I can easily recognise the pupils from previous visits. Senior years (or OLD AGE) has made me dreadful about remembering names - I can hear my family comment that I've always been dreadful with remembering names! At home we are surrounded with friends and neighbours who boast the names Joan, Jane, Jean. Joyce and probably others beginning with "J", whom I have forgotten. Many years ago in Chesterfield a very shy young girl came to the choir club that my wife and I ran. She was so shy that she wouldn't tell me her name so I christened her "Fred"! She happily answered to "Fred" from them on and soon the nickname stuck. Very few people called her by her real name of "Heather" but to the vast majority, even her elder sister, she remained "Fred". Sorry, Heather. Now I must resist the temptation to call any of the pupils at St Peter's School by the name "Fred". I think I might try "Cedric"! Do you think any of them would object?

If you're in the U. K. then keep on hoping for the sun and if you're in the U. S. then don't give up that desire for rain!

By guest blogger Pete

Well! Last week's busy week is over but what a great week it was. The preparations for the 50th anniversary of my Ordination went off far smoother that either Pam or I anticipated. Fin, my other son-in-law- downloaded the hymns that Ruth and some of the members of San Francisco Grace Cathedral Choir had recorded for my service. The local Church organist took time off work to play them during the service on the internal sound system. Very useful to have relatives who know something about computers! That, plus the vineyard wine from John and Ruth at the meal afterwards , made her presence at the celebration unique and almost real. After the service we all retired to the Church Hall, where we ate too much and chatted continuously. Friday was the actual day of the anniversary and to this event came old collages, ordinands from the past, other clergy, family and close friends from a number of years ago.

The following Sunday was the Parish celebration and the main surprise here for both Pam and me was the unexpected arrival of Pam's sister. For a number of years she has lived in Sidmouth but last year moved up into the Midlands. Neither Pam nor I had seen her for something like 13 years. After a small reception in the hall after the service she and her husband plus three other close friends from 40 years back came back to our home for a picnic lunch. The weather during the whole time was absolutely wonderful.

Little competition for you - just for fun. What does "T. W. T. W. T. W."stand for?

Now for a continuation of the DVD/Video Player/Recorder saga. It's now two weeks since we last saw our machine. The firm I bought it from assured me that the maker's policy was that of replacing a faulty machine with a new one. Now it transpires that the maker has suddenly changed policies and they're to do a repair job (not the future tense!). We're hoping to get it back for Christmas. I hadn't better tell you the name of the maker involved nor the name of the shop I bought it from but I've learnt my lesson and this was the last time I abandoned Sony for a cheaper Japanese job. It would happen when all the cricket is on and I can't record any of it for future enjoyment.

Keep working on the conundrum! It's probably easier for UK readers than others.

By guest blogger Pete

This next week looks like being a busy week for Pam and me so I thought it would be a good idea to set to and write this blog before that week even began . The reason why, in all likelihood, that it is going to be so busy, is that Friday 29th May marks the 50th anniversary of my ordination in Winchester Cathedral. On Friday various close friends of ours are coming to Lincoln to help us celebrate the event at our local church Unfortunately, Ruth can't be there but she has persuaded some of the adults in her cathedral choir to record the hymns for that service so that we can play them for others to join in with. That will give us a link with our younger daughter and her a link with us.


After the service Pam is arranging a meal together, which will give plenty of time to renew old friendships. I have worked in quite a few places beginning on a 30,000 population new housing estate in Southampton, moving from there to Tilbury and then to Walvis Bay, in what was then known as South West Africa but is, today, called Namibia. When we returned to the UK we moved to Chesterfield, from there to Grantham and next onto Warminster. North Hykeham was our final working destination before retirement took us 2 miles down to road to where we now live.


I have managed to wash the car down after the MUDDY journey to the sticky pastures of Belvoir Castle last week. Unfortunately, I have not - as yet - managed to get the mud off my trainers. Pam is to blame for that! I was going to do it yesterday but she said, "Leave it until a bit later!" Now, I am a very obedient husband and would not go against my boss' instructions. The Boy Scouts used to have a great money raising idea called "Bob a Job". For any non UK readers (and maybe for a few of those as well!) a "bob" was the nickname given to our old one shilling (now worth 5p). I don't, for a moment, think I could get a scout to clean my muddy trainers for 5p but I'd be more than willing to negotiate a new rate. Please contact me via the "comments" on this blog site.......

I write this post waiting for the TV man to come and replace or repair our broken DVD/Video player. He was supposed to be here for his first call of the day at 10 a.m.. It's now 11.30 a.m. and a recent telephone call revealed that he had forgotten to add the booking in the workshop diary to the shop diary but that he is on his way. I had a look out of the window to see if there was any sign of him and the iris flowers in our front garden caught my eye. This year must have been an exceptionally good one for irises (or is it "irisi"?) so I thought a photo or two for the blog would be in order. For the past two years we've been away at the time the irisi or irises were at their best. This year we've really enjoyed them every time we've been out of the house. A bit overcast when I took the photos but hope you like them.


Keep on planting - you never know what you're going to get!"

By guest blogger Pete.

Well, we managed to get to Belvoir Castle (though they didn't invite us in for a meal) and the Steam and Traction Engine Fair that took place there last Sunday. The only minus was the weather. As we drove out of Lincoln the heavens opened and dumped torrential rain on us. The weather forecast that morning had promised sun with very occasion showers but this was no shower. I do wish the weather would listen to the morning forecast from Radio Lincoln. I was in two minds whether or not to continue but my optimistic wife suggested that we carry on and see what the weather was like at Belvoir. True to form, the rain stopped about half way to Belvoir and although you wouldn't have wanted to sit out in the garden at that point it was much better.

"Ah...St Bruno... I recognize that anywhere":

We duly found the site, joined a long queue of traffic, paid a not inconsiderable entrance fee, parked the car and made our way to the well known "TEA TENT" (which also served coffee), where we were to meet other members of the Photo-Nomads group. Then the heavens opened up once more with a monsoon type rain this time. Fortunately we had found a seat at a table - where we thought that if we'd arrived 15 minutes later we wouldn't have paid that not inconsiderable entrance fee but rather would have returned to the dry home we have in Lincoln. Have you ever made one cup of coffee last for one hour? We managed it, chatting animatedly with two other strangers who happened to be sharing the table with us.

"Anyone seen my twin brother?":

Eventually the rain did stop so we left that infamous TEA ROOM and ventured forth into the muddy pasture where the Fair was being held. My trainers took on a completely new shade of brown from their original colour and are, as I write this on the Monday, sitting in the garage drying out. That Fair, though, was far more than just a steam and traction engine affair. The army were there showing off a few tanks and spraying watchers with lovely brown sticky mud as they illustrated what the afore mentioned vehicles could do. We saw some beautiful vintage cars and farm vehicles - even saw specimens of a few of the cars I have owned, which, I hope, doesn't make me "vintage". There was also a fairground, which we studiously avoided; a wild west show (U.S wild west rather than the U.K. variety); a number of excellent models of circuses and other similar events and innumerable stalls selling greasy burgers, the origin of whose meat I would hesitate to investigate in case I happened to know the animal.

"I didn't know they gave you a telly in one of these":
We spent about two hours there until hunger got the better of us and we returned to our car for a late picnic lunch. Whilst having that lunch the monsoon made a return visit so we made our way home rather than returning to the mud rink. Good day, though!

"Oh no! I've burnt the toast again!":
Keep sploding around in that mud - it's supposed to be good for you. We've even had a bath in it at (California).

Where is that leak coming from ?:

I think I mentioned it last week or the week before but it is a few years now since I taught in a school. That will teach me to tempt fate! Monday saw me taking the assembly at the local primary school. The school is attached to the church we worship in - St Peter at Gowts. I bet you don't know what a "gowt" is? I'll show off and tell you. "Gowt" means "drain". St Peter's history goes back to the 10th century and a Roman Road ran through its churchyard. We have a flood drain about 50 yards from the church but I don't think that was the original drain - more likely a Victorian introduction. Lincoln was very susceptible to flooding in the 19th century and being a large industrial town (the first tanks of World War 1 were built here) I suspect that the Victorians changed the lay out of the original drain to it's present position.


But I digress. The school I took the assembly at is not a very big one but it has some smashing kids there. Pam, my wife, on major festivals takes some of the children into Church to decorate the Childrens' Corner window sill. She'll have to train a new bunch of pupils at the beginning of next term because her present group will all have moved up to "the big school". I'm also about to become a governor at St Peter's School next term so you might be getting a bit more news about the children from time to time.


I've joined a new photography group in our area. This group is known as "Photo Nomads". We have no fixed meeting dates but when an interesting event comes up we meet there and, together, go around (i.e. "nomadic) looking for some good photos. The more experienced help the newly addicted.

On Sunday we are off to Belvoir Castle - about 30 miles or so from Lincoln - for a traction engine rally. "WOW!", I can hear you say - and you, Ruth! I bet you all wish you could be here to join us on Sunday. This is one of the largest such rallies in the Midlands and, unless the heavens open up and the rain pelts down, there will be plenty of people there. Just a little note for my daughter after her recent remarks about "tea". We will be meeting in the "TEA TENT", which, I'm reliably told, is very easy to find.


We went to our annual quiz last night - although why we should, each year, inflict such a punishment upon ourselves is beyond my comprehension. We had a table of what we call "anoraks" there but ours' was, by far, the nosiest and most useless table because we didn't get much of a score by the end even though we had more laughs than anyone else. In the first half we scored 18 points out of a possible 35 and in the 2nd half it was 22 of our 35. However, we came 2nd to the "Anoraks". Much to our utter amazement, confusion, delight, amusement and surprise we were praised for scoring 58 points. Actually we managed only 40 and were probably last but we did manage to shut up the "goody goody" in our team and stopped her from spilling the beans. Even the "anoraks" said "good night" to us! What more praise can you expect? Can you work out how we were awarded 58 points instead of 40? The only prize offered to any winners is an invitation to join us next year for this wonderful quiz.


Go on - keep quiet when things are going your way!

By guest blogger Pete.

Here in the U.K., last weekend was a bank holiday. In the southern part of the county of Lincolnshire - an area known as "South Holland" for reasons that will soon become clear - the landscape is hill-less and the soil fertile. It's one of the main areas for vegetable production in the country but it's also an area well know for the production of daffodil and tulip bulbs. It's a wonderful sight to see whole fields of daffodils and tulips in full bloom. Alas, it's a long time since I've seen fields of tulips in bloom but we did see some fields of daffodils in bloom three weeks or so ago.


For a number of years now the May Bank Holiday weekend has been the date for the well know Spalding Flower Parade, when various floats are drawn through the streets and end up at the large tulip gardens in town. The main ingredient for all the floats has been the petals from tulips. Just lately, however, the production of tulips has fallen off and it was thought that this year's parade would have to be cancelled. Fortunately an alternative source of tulip flower heads was found in the neighbouring county of Norfolk and more cash came from the County Council and other donors so the parade, although somewhat different from previous years, took place. I'm told the weather was typical for bank holidays but this didn't deter the crowds from turning up to witness the event.

For me, a more interesting feature that coincides with the May Bank Holiday and the Spalding parade is the churches flower festivals. A large number of village and town churches in the South Holland region hold their annual flower festivals at the same time as the Parade.


Pam and I paid our annual visit this year, taking with us Bill and Jane, two friends, for whom this was a first visit. They'd never seen such floral displays before. Each church visited is, literally, a mass of colour - the colour of the flowers - and the scent is indescribable. These church displays are done by experts - local folk who have been doing them for years.


Most churches adopt a different theme from each other so every church visited has something different to marvel at. So many and varied are the displays that it took us the whole day to visit just four of the many churches offering festivals. The photos for this blog are the first ones I've worked on - only a few so far - and were taken in the church at Pinchbeck. Try finding that village on a map. We also visited the villages of Donington, Surfleet and Gosberton. It's impossible to say which one was the best - they were all so very, very good.

Keep on smelling the flowers!

By guest blogger Pete

If ever you're anywhere near the north east coast of Yorkshire then there are, at least, four places that it would be a crime not to visit.

The first of these - the best known of them all - is Whitby. There can't be many people who visit the North East coast who haven't been to Whitby. It's a fairly large fishing port and, generally speaking, one that has escaped the modern improvements inflicted upon some of our most attractive towns. For those who love their food, Whitby boasts the best fish and chip cafe in the U.K. - at least I think it is the best. I can't remember it's name now but it is on the north shore and I've never been there when you didn't have to queue to get in. Having had your fill of this delicacy you'll then be able to tackle the hill ( all four of my locations have hills that you'd weep for if you were a hill lover) that leads to the Abbey ruins and the non ruined boxed pewed church near bye. I've enclosed a copy of one of my paintings of Whitby.


If you've got to be fit to tackle Whitby's hill then you have to be super fit to tackle the slopes down to the sea that feature on visits to the other three. No transport for tourists here - not even a bike. These three beauties, known as Robin Hood's Bay (don't ask me why), Staithes and Runswick Bay are all within easy driving distance from Whitby and each other. You'll be relieved to know that I can't find my painting of Runswick Bay, the smallest of the four. I am an artist who is absolutely sure that recognition of my talents will come some 20 years or so after my demise. In the meantime, just occasionally, I share my future good fortune by inflicting some of my future masterpieces onto troublesome relatives of ex friends. (Only joking here, troublesome relatives and ex friends)!!!!!

These three ports earned their fame not just from fishing but also from smuggling. They are a maze of alleyways, lanes and jitties. In my dialect a jitty is a very narrow passage way down which only the slimest of bodies can pass. Obviously the customs' men were more rotund than the smugglers. There is a very narrow jitty in Staithes - I think it's Staithes - down by the church - or it could be the chapel. ( It's my age!). I once enjoyed ambitions of painting a picture of one of the customs' men stuck there and trying to get out. I guess I must be a very charitable person not to have fulfilled that ambition - or it could be that the last time I went down that jitty I only JUST avoided getting stuck myself.


Happy Smuggling."

By guest blogger Pete

I mentioned last week that Lincoln is a very beautiful and historic city. I think it more than matches the likes of York or Canterbury and I am far from alone with that opinion. But Lincoln, like the county of Lincolnshire, remains a secret and the number of visitors we get is far, far lower than that achieved by the other two cities I've mentioned.

Next year matters will be even worse. The city fathers - the city council - faced with the present financial crisis have decided to close the two tourist information offices at the end of this year. They reckon that without their closure the Victorian tradition - and extremely large and successful - Christmas four day Market cannot continue. Many of the people in the city are extremely annoyed by the impending closure of the tourist information offices and see this as a serious blow to our tourist image. There is so much to be seen in Lincoln - so much that the average visitor would not be able to discover if left to his or her own resources.

Something NO-ONE who visits Lincoln can ever miss is our wonderful Cathedral. It stands on the summit of a hill and can be seen from anywhere in the city and from quite a few places in the surrounding countryside as well. A stone's throw from the Cathedral is the ancient castle. The square that separates the two has featured in many historical period BBS productions. It was in this square that, many centuries ago, King Stephen stood each morning to shout insults at Catherine, besieged in the castle. King Stephen spent most of his reign fighting usurpers and Catherine was the powerful mother of the main usurper.

Also within easy reach of the city are numerous Roman remains because Lincoln has been in existence for many centuries. I think I mentioned some time ago that a steep hill - known as Steep Hill - separates the two parts of the city. The hill hosts many of the most beautiful dwelling medieval houses in the country. Amongst them is one of the earliest synagogues still in existence. Most of the ancient gateways into the old city still exist along with the remains of the old Roman road and much, much, more.


If you're in the area then don't miss Lincoln. If the city fathers want to make it a secret place then help make it an open secret.

Bye for now.

By guest blogger Pete.

It must be nearly 30 years now since I was teaching in Warminster. Other teachers who read this may either be jealous or angry but being employed in a public school, my summer holiday was approximately nine weeks. That is TOO long. To help me relax my wife taught me how to do cross stitch and embroidery. Very soon I became addicted to this. It doesn't take me very long to become addicted to things, as you may have gathered from this bog.

Shortly after we moved to Lincoln my wife took over a needlecraft shop in the centre of the city. This was the beginning of that period when needlecraft really took off and was so popular with the ladies whilst the gents preferred tapestry. Now Lincoln is a very historic city but there were no cross stitch (or tapestry) designs of the many beautiful historic buildings to be found here. Thus I determined to have a go at designing a cross stitch version of our most important building, the famous Lincoln Cathedral. The design I produced is the photo of the close up view of the front of the cathedral.


During the first Iraq war the American forces took over a disused RAF hospital, in the nearby village of Nocton, and turned it into an emergency receiving area for casualties from that war. Fortunately no casualties arrived but this did mean that the medical staff were bored out of their minds. There's only so much preparation you can do. This boredom lead to a big demand - mainly from the nurses - for the Lincoln Cathedral design. Other citizens in Lincoln as well as tourists discovered it and sales took off. So much so that I, FOOLISHLY, decided to try and make designs for all the cathedrals in England. Now that was TOO ambitious. If any of those Nocton nurses read this blog I'd love to hear from them again.

We restricted the sale of the design to my wife's shop and, although she no longer owns that shop, it is still restricted to sale there and continues to do well.

The second - side on view - design of the cathedral was carried out much later and the chart I designed for that was purposely destroyed so that this picture became truly unique. Others of my designs went on to sell nationally and, sometime, I'll show you some of those.

My burning interest in needlework fell off whilst I was awaiting a cataract operation and never returned with my renewed sight. It must be ten years now since I last did any serious needlework. Perhaps one day !!!!!!!!!!!!"

By guest blogger Pete

I can never understand why the majority of people in the world drive on the WRONG side of the road! What's wrong with them? Surely they realise that the English way of driving is the best? Now, I'm a wrinkly - a BALD wrinkly too - and although I've driven in the States - I would guess, in all, about 35 miles - it is not my favourite occupation.

When Ruth and John lived on Sanibel Island my wife and I took up cycling. I won't say which one of us fell off because that wouldn't be fair to her. We regularly used to pass one of those road signs that told you how fast you are going and, being delinquent daredevils, we used to speed up and flash by the sign at something approaching 10 mph. No speed cop ever caught us!

It was whilst on Sanibel that Ruth and John arranged for me to meet a character called Dick Shepherd. He had a photography business somewhere in that vast hot expanse that goes under the name of Fort Myers. Now the 35 miles I've driven in the States didn't include Sanibel to Fort Myers. Ruth took me on this occasion and arranged to meet me at a coffee shop called Borders; I think they sold books as well as coffee! However, this meeting place involved crossing a multi-lane highway - at the time it seemed as though there were 50 lanes at the particular spot I decided to cross on. I waited for the traffic lights to favour pedestrians and set off at a good sprint for a 60 something year old. I must have been about 2/3rds of the way across when the lights decided to favour the movement of vast amounts of traffic. That was an experience that did wonders for my prayer life. It is, also, the only time I've argued with a 50 ton truck!

Dick was very much into photographic kaleidoscopes and much of his keeness rubbed off onto me. Kaleidoscopes feed my love of detail. When I got back to that special land favoured by all people with good taste I tried it out for myself using as much of Dick's basic method as I could remember. They were a bit too basic but over time I developed my own method that gave me more detailed kaleidoscopes.

From this:

to this:
The main weakness with my method was that everything had to be done "by hand". Recently Ruth introduced me to a programme (sorry "program") known as "Kaleidoscope Kreator".

It took this photo from this:


To this:
Now this programme offers speed and detail with some amazing results. If you're into digital photography then why not try it out.

(Editor's note: I actually won my copy of the program from the Metal Clay Store - and it can be used to create photopolymer plates for metal clay - but only on a PC, not mac!).

By guest blogger Pete

Being retired is something that I can definitely recommend. It doesn't mean that you stop doing things but it does mean that you can do more of what you want, when you want and how you want to do it. Hobbies come into their own when you retire.

Just occasionally, however, life continues to get a bit hectic. I'm retired and, from time to time, a lot of things get booked for a short period of time. When I was working this seemed to be the norm but now I'm retired it is the exception. If nothing else the experience will give my few remaining brain cells a little exercise - and, probably, make me appreciate retirement even more.

Two more of my retirement hobby pastels this week. I must have been in a thunderous mood when I drew the landscape below BUT if you look carefully I hope that my scanner has caught the touch of yellow in the picture to represent the sun (trying to get through or trying not to be squeezed out?). Mind you, even on a sunny day I don't think I'd fancy living in that cottage. I don't suppose the inhabitant(s) enjoy many modern day appliances. At least they wouldn't complain about noisy neighbours, though.

I had trouble sharpening the other drawing below. It is a photo of a drawing but that original drawing has now been framed and the non reflective glass doesn't favour photography. This is a drawing I made last year of my younger grandson, who showed considerable talent and intelligence right from birth by starting off life with the same Christian name as mine.

Is it Spring where you are yet? Some foolish - nay, extremely foolish - man once said that young men's fancies turn when Spring arrives. We're beginning to get the early signs of Spring here in Lincoln but this morning the local radio station forecast that tomorrow (Wednesday) would being a heavy frost and sleet showers. I'm glad I'm not a daffodil bulb!!!!!!

By guest blogger Pete.

It's come. It's gone. It's come. It's finished.

At long last the white stuff, which came about 2 weeks ago, has gone. The World War II liberation of Paris could not have attracted greater press and TV coverage than the last two weeks and the glorious "Monday February 16th 2009". The prophets of doom are now saying that this was nothing like the winter of 1963/4, which lasted three months. Pretty useless remark, really, for I thought that all winters lasted three months! A bit like saying, "I love the countryside, it is so rural."! Yesterday we basked in the heat of 10 degrees Celsius - not quite warm enough for shorts and t shirt but still an improvement. I ventured forth to my art group and promptly froze in a church hall where the temperature was 5 degrees Celsius!

Anyway, as I sat 'sweltering' in the Church Hall I managed to finish the Las Vegas version of Venice. To be perfectly honest with you I wasn't sorry to see the back of the quarrelsome gondoliers. The strike still hasn't been settled. The knobbly kneed shorts wearers refuse to give in to the boss's demands that they wear long trousers to hide those unsightly appendages. If you can think of a solution to this strike then, for the sake of restoration of peace in Las Vegas, please let me know. In the meantime, here is the finished finished picture showing the wrangling still in progress. By the way, the water really IS that colour in Las Vegas' canals!


Help! Last spring my wife and I joined up with Ruth and John for a week's touring of Washington and Oregon States. One of the places we visited was Whidby Island. On that island there is an experimental Azalea centre (or center, depending on whether or not you were properly educated!!!)(Editors note : Meerkerk Rhododendron Gardens - must see!). With digital camera at the ready I took a few photographs - but I cannot lie; it must have been something in the region of a hundred or so. Despite all the beauty of the massed Azaleas I captured the attached photograph. I eventually got around to "Photoshop"ing it and then the quest began. It doesn't look too rare but what is it called? Cosmos has been suggested but I though cosmos was a member of the daisy family and this chap isn't a daisy. How about "Aquilegia" (Granny Bonnet)? Somehow it doesn't quite look like it. Any help with identification would be appreciated.


Bye for now.

By guest blogger Pete.

"The snow that cameth last week cometh again this week as well." On Sunday last we were all hoping that we had seen the last of it but by evening if had returned with a vengeance. My mother in law had sayings for most things and she used to reckon that whilst there was the faintest amount of snow left we would get some more to clear it away. She was partly right! The newspapers and the radio were in their respective elements as harbingers of bad tidings and informed us that whereas last week was the worse weather we had had for 18 year this week's was the worse we had had for 20 years. I don't know if such information is supposed to be a comfort -- if it is then it certainly failed dismally. Once again I did without the mediocre hall temperature and conga dancing priest of the past few weeks and painted at home rather than go to the art group.
You were right with your 2nd guess, Florcita. This version of Venice has its origins in Las Vegas. I purposedly refrained from beginning to paint the water until this week. You could get that colour only in Las Vegas and certainly NOT in Venice. I MAY get the painting finished by next week - only reflections, etc, on the water and the gondolas to complete.

The snow painting shown below was completed in 2002. It's taken from the corner of Lincoln Cathedral grounds and just outside one of the old Roman entrances to the city, Eastgate. The folk who live there regard the district as Lincoln's "Nob Hill". I don't live in that area so think they are talking rubbish. I think the age of the house depicted does match its appearance. It's so easy to get weathered plastic beams and a pot of glue these days that you need to examine to be anything like sure. It's obvious that this was one of my earlier watercolour efforts. I was once told to keep earlier efforts so that you could see if I was making progress. Sometimes that maxim is all right but at other times it can be embarrassing!


Have a good week. Perhaps this coming seven days will see the beginning of that heat wave. Who was it that reckoned I was a pessimist?

"Baby, it's cold outside". That is the opening line of a song from a FEW years ago. It's the only line of that song that I can remember now, although I seem to recall that somewhere in the song we're given the added information that it's dreadfully cold out there! I can't even remember who put that song into the "Top Twenty" of it's day - (probably about the time of Noah!). I'm pretty sure that it was before the days of "record players". My old gramaphone played 75s and was a wind up job. Would, probably, be worth a small fortune now but after years of devoted service I dumped it! Oh, those care free days of youth!

It's been cold outside, dreadfully cold outside, here just lately. When the days haven't begun with a hard frost - "white all over" - there's been, what my mother used to call, "a lazy rain". Are you now wondering what a "lazy rain" is? If you aren't then move on straight to the next paragraph but if you want to add to your knowledge of useless trivia then a lazy rain is a rain too lazy to go around you so it goes through you.

Yesterday at my Art Group it was cold INSIDE as well as outside. We meet in a church hall on a housing estate on the outskirts of Lincoln, called Birchwood. The hall has suffered so much damage from the escapades of the local intelligentsia that it now looks more like I would imagine Fort Knox to be than a social gathering place. Just to add to the fun, the church building itself is next door to the Hall and, for some reason I've never been able to fathom , every time someone enters the Church the burglar alarm goes off in the hall. (The wonder of our technological society!). I think the local priest and his congregation were dancing the conga for the most of yesterday afternoon. Not only was the hall heating system lacking in its most important ingredient but we were constantly entertained but the dulcet tones of the alarm.

For these reasons I was rather pleased that the painting I was working on is set in ???????????????????????? I could imagine myself back there dressed in t shirt, shorts and sandals (etc) wondering where the nearest airconditioning could be found. Anyway in the warmth and silence of my imagination I made further progress with the painting. I add it to this blog to show you how much more has been achieved since last week. Any idea of the location, yet?