I never did tell, you, did I, the amazing story of Louisiana, brother to our old brindled cat Mississippi who died in May last year. Remind me to one day. Meanwhile, enough to say that the owners of Louisiana (now also passed away) who live not far away have bought a superb little basset pup.
Called "Odie", and only 11 weeks old, this little fella is, as you can imagine, still growing into his skin. His face already has that jowly, saggy-eyed look, his feet are far far too big for him and his ears, at about 6-7 inches are long enough that he keeps tripping over them.
We met them tonight (Odie and Mum, not his ears per se) on our way back from the Rec. Little Odie was a reluctant walker and making as slow progress westwards as we (with Megan) were making eastwards. Dad crossed the road with all of us to say hello, and poor Odie sat down, quite overcome by being approached and then quietly sniffed by all three of us at various points along his length. We are harmless though, so he soon got used to it and cheered up (although he still looked very doleful but that's bassets for you.
Welcome to our patch Odie - I expect we'll see quite a lot of each other in the Rec
Deefski
Monday, 10 August 2009
Sunday, 9 August 2009
Masterchef
We now have the narrow boating holiday pics rolling round ina 200+ picture slide-show on one of those digital picture frames. A couple there reminded me of how little M (3) loves his cookery, and it's a great way to entertain the little chap when he's bored.
Mrs Silverwood has, anyway, discovered that Asda do self-decorate kits for things like gingerbread men, and kiddies "Thomas the Tank Engine" cake mixtures. The gingerbread men are already baked, and come with edible glue, toothpaste tubes of icing and smarties / hundreds-and-thousands (sprinkles?) and the children just assemble the lot using smarties for buttons and eyes and drawing on mouths with the icing.
The cake mixes they just need a bit of supervision measuring and stirring the mix, then spooning it into cake cups. The cooked and cooled down cakes are then decorated with icing and topped with little Thomas characters printed onto rice-paper.
M's fascination with cookery though, goes way beyond that and he's a regular and useful helper for Mrs S around the kitchen. he even amazes Mrs S by knowing the ingredients you need for some of the regular dishes. If Mrs S says they are doing bolognese, he's off and running, diving into the kitchen cupboards for the mince, tinned tomatoes, spices and herbs etc without needing telling.
On the boat it was Mum who did the cooking, and he was always there "I'll do it that one!" He'd say.... "I can do it!". Mum had him making up salad dressings, preparing salads, weighing and measuring, counting out the spoonfuls of various bits. We even have a photo of him proudly showing off 2 bowls of green salad - how many 3 year old boys are even interested in green salad?
Ah well, today it's too hot really to do anything, and after our 6-miler yesterday nobody's hassling Dad for a good walk, and he's not complaining.
Deefer
Mrs Silverwood has, anyway, discovered that Asda do self-decorate kits for things like gingerbread men, and kiddies "Thomas the Tank Engine" cake mixtures. The gingerbread men are already baked, and come with edible glue, toothpaste tubes of icing and smarties / hundreds-and-thousands (sprinkles?) and the children just assemble the lot using smarties for buttons and eyes and drawing on mouths with the icing.
The cake mixes they just need a bit of supervision measuring and stirring the mix, then spooning it into cake cups. The cooked and cooled down cakes are then decorated with icing and topped with little Thomas characters printed onto rice-paper.
M's fascination with cookery though, goes way beyond that and he's a regular and useful helper for Mrs S around the kitchen. he even amazes Mrs S by knowing the ingredients you need for some of the regular dishes. If Mrs S says they are doing bolognese, he's off and running, diving into the kitchen cupboards for the mince, tinned tomatoes, spices and herbs etc without needing telling.
On the boat it was Mum who did the cooking, and he was always there "I'll do it that one!" He'd say.... "I can do it!". Mum had him making up salad dressings, preparing salads, weighing and measuring, counting out the spoonfuls of various bits. We even have a photo of him proudly showing off 2 bowls of green salad - how many 3 year old boys are even interested in green salad?
Ah well, today it's too hot really to do anything, and after our 6-miler yesterday nobody's hassling Dad for a good walk, and he's not complaining.
Deefer
Saturday, 8 August 2009
Idiots in 4 by 4's
A real treat today - Haggis and I get to accompany Dad on the Challock Forest 6-mile walk he leads for the Friends of Kings Wood. Before we depart, all three dogs get a quick walk to the Rec to make sure Meggie does her stuff, and then we sneak off while she's sleeping that one off.
There are 12 walkers in the end and Dad takes them round what used to be the 6 mile waymarked trail (dismantled by the Forestry Commission about 10 years ago) but with an added loop down into the bit called "Cutler's Valley" to see the newest pond created by (well, paid for by) the Friends. Created, of course by proper land scape contractors.
That's the 4th pond. Also on the visit we go to look at one near the "Reptile Valley" which has apparently been damaged by some muppets in a Land Rover. These ponds are created on fairly dry chalk and thin soil by digging the bowl with a big excavator, and then puddling in 15 lorry loads of local clay to make a 2 foot thick smear over the chalk. The ponds then fill naturally and we allow them to colonise with plants by the slow process of natural succession.
This one had been a great success, being blessed with a better catchment than the others, and we'd helped that along on a Friends "volunteer day" by cutting gulleys from the nearby forest tracks, which happened to converged there from the local hillsides. It was alive with dragon flies and other water insects, newts and was used frequently by the fallow deer to drink.
Till that is, some bloomin' idiot with a Land Rover decided it would be fun to drive through. Now Dad's as big a "Landie" fan as the next man - grew up with posters on the bedroom wall, was always going to own one and eventually did, used to go "green laning" (responsibly), joined the All-Wheel-Drive-Club, suscribed to LR Owner magazine, eventually sold the beast in an attack of pragmatism (noise, thirst, slowness etc).
So we sympathise with the muppets' desire to get out into the country and get it muddy. Not for us the "Sloane tractor" shininess, where the nearest to off road you got was mounting the kerb. But these tarts have driven it into our pond and then effectively sliced down through the 2 feet of clay spinning the wheels to get out
http://www.friendsofkingswood.org/Gallery/tabid/253/Default.aspx
Either they have, or the tractor they engaged to pull them out has. The pond has now leaked away all it's water and sits there, a dry bowl with cracked African "river bed" floor. The Friends are left looking at the cost of restoring the pond, bringing in more clay, re-engaging the excavator to puddle it in.
Thanks lads. I hope the damage was worth the laugh.
Muppets
Deefski
There are 12 walkers in the end and Dad takes them round what used to be the 6 mile waymarked trail (dismantled by the Forestry Commission about 10 years ago) but with an added loop down into the bit called "Cutler's Valley" to see the newest pond created by (well, paid for by) the Friends. Created, of course by proper land scape contractors.
That's the 4th pond. Also on the visit we go to look at one near the "Reptile Valley" which has apparently been damaged by some muppets in a Land Rover. These ponds are created on fairly dry chalk and thin soil by digging the bowl with a big excavator, and then puddling in 15 lorry loads of local clay to make a 2 foot thick smear over the chalk. The ponds then fill naturally and we allow them to colonise with plants by the slow process of natural succession.
This one had been a great success, being blessed with a better catchment than the others, and we'd helped that along on a Friends "volunteer day" by cutting gulleys from the nearby forest tracks, which happened to converged there from the local hillsides. It was alive with dragon flies and other water insects, newts and was used frequently by the fallow deer to drink.
Till that is, some bloomin' idiot with a Land Rover decided it would be fun to drive through. Now Dad's as big a "Landie" fan as the next man - grew up with posters on the bedroom wall, was always going to own one and eventually did, used to go "green laning" (responsibly), joined the All-Wheel-Drive-Club, suscribed to LR Owner magazine, eventually sold the beast in an attack of pragmatism (noise, thirst, slowness etc).
So we sympathise with the muppets' desire to get out into the country and get it muddy. Not for us the "Sloane tractor" shininess, where the nearest to off road you got was mounting the kerb. But these tarts have driven it into our pond and then effectively sliced down through the 2 feet of clay spinning the wheels to get out
http://www.friendsofkingswood.org/Gallery/tabid/253/Default.aspx
Either they have, or the tractor they engaged to pull them out has. The pond has now leaked away all it's water and sits there, a dry bowl with cracked African "river bed" floor. The Friends are left looking at the cost of restoring the pond, bringing in more clay, re-engaging the excavator to puddle it in.
Thanks lads. I hope the damage was worth the laugh.
Muppets
Deefski
Friday, 7 August 2009
Haggis, Ultra-sound and an Oasis
First up, Happy 12th Birthday to the H! Haggis, still a pup at heart hits 12 today and tomorrow is still well up for one of Dad's Challock Forest 6-mile walks. Me too, but we'll have to leave the Megster behind. She'd be about 6 months getting round, and that's if Dad carried her for the last 5 and a half! Birthday, so raw pork ribs all round. Yay Haggis!
Dad returns yesterday bubbling over with a new experience, that of being ultra-sound and Doppler scanned like a pregnant lady. Some unknown problem had caused swelling in one of his legs, and the docs wanted to rule out deep-vein thrombosis. So he was packed off to hospital to be poked and prodded, ending up with him being sent for an ultra-sound scan. many readers will have either had one, or be married to someone and watched one, but it was all new exciting technology to Dad (he loves all that stuff!).
For a DVT, he says, it's gel up the leg from ankle to groin, and then a case of inching down the leg's length looking for the rougly-round vein on the screen. Pressure on the leg with the probe crushes the vein (assuming there's no clot). Then in around the knee where it all gets a bit complicated with cartilege, tendons and other jointy bits (yum slurp... oops, sorry) they go over to Doppler mode, where a squeeze of the leg makes the screen flare with yellows, oranges and reds (but again, only if the flow above the squeeze is not impeded by a clot. Then back to probe-presses for the calf.
You'll be pleased to know that Dad's leg is not pregnant, and is also bright with flaring Doppler-effects and the vein eminently collapsable, guaranteed DVT-free.
Off next to Medway where Dad's wildlife-garden judging skills are to be deployed in the unlikely urban jungle of the Chatham Tower Blocks. He drives in somewhat trepidatiously. Both Mum and Dad used to live in Chatham (all be it separately in those days), and the blocks were no-where you'd go by mistake. Also no where you'd expect to find any kind of garden, never mind a wildlife garden.
Never mind - gulp hard and press the flat number and "call" on the big heavy security door. Get let in and follow the lady-speakers instructions climb the dodgy looking stairs to come out onto a kind of concrete mezzanine floor. Turn left and be greeted by......
..an absolute splash of riotous verdant growth and colour. A tiny space, just the ground floor equivalent of the balcony but absolutely crammed with pots, planters, baskets, planted up coffee mugs, drink bottles and off cuts of rain-gutter. Even cracks between slabs had been planted - some decent sized sunflowers tower from a half inch crack between path and the main building.
The whole is adorned with a completely mad eccentric but joyous mixture of plastic teddies, mermaids, dragon flies, lanterns and candle holders, coloured glass and stones. The flowers are all insect friendly - nasturtiums, lavender, marigolds and various climbers we didn't recognise, a-buzz with bees and hover flies. There's even a tiny bird feeder.
Amazingly the local "hoodies" seem to leave the old girl alone, and nothing gets vandalised or touched, even though it's well within reach of sticky fingers. On the contrary, this lovely crazy old girl's efforts seem to have spawned a local enthusiasm for adopting the grim civic planters, painting them up beautiful colours and planting them. More gardens are starting to appear on balconies and outside other flats in the area.
It's a real oasis in the middle of urban utilitarianism. Fair play to this lady, and more power to her elbow. Dad says this kind of thing makes the whole thing more worthwhile, somehow. Easy to be a wildlife gardener in Acacia Avenue, middle class leafy suburbs well protected from the madding crowd. Not so easy exposed like that to the whims of some of the local Herberts.
Ah well, Happy Birthday Haggis. Mum will be home soon from visiting Diamond (our thoughts are with you Di - we know it's a bit rough just now. Hang in there.
Deefski
Dad returns yesterday bubbling over with a new experience, that of being ultra-sound and Doppler scanned like a pregnant lady. Some unknown problem had caused swelling in one of his legs, and the docs wanted to rule out deep-vein thrombosis. So he was packed off to hospital to be poked and prodded, ending up with him being sent for an ultra-sound scan. many readers will have either had one, or be married to someone and watched one, but it was all new exciting technology to Dad (he loves all that stuff!).
For a DVT, he says, it's gel up the leg from ankle to groin, and then a case of inching down the leg's length looking for the rougly-round vein on the screen. Pressure on the leg with the probe crushes the vein (assuming there's no clot). Then in around the knee where it all gets a bit complicated with cartilege, tendons and other jointy bits (yum slurp... oops, sorry) they go over to Doppler mode, where a squeeze of the leg makes the screen flare with yellows, oranges and reds (but again, only if the flow above the squeeze is not impeded by a clot. Then back to probe-presses for the calf.
You'll be pleased to know that Dad's leg is not pregnant, and is also bright with flaring Doppler-effects and the vein eminently collapsable, guaranteed DVT-free.
Off next to Medway where Dad's wildlife-garden judging skills are to be deployed in the unlikely urban jungle of the Chatham Tower Blocks. He drives in somewhat trepidatiously. Both Mum and Dad used to live in Chatham (all be it separately in those days), and the blocks were no-where you'd go by mistake. Also no where you'd expect to find any kind of garden, never mind a wildlife garden.
Never mind - gulp hard and press the flat number and "call" on the big heavy security door. Get let in and follow the lady-speakers instructions climb the dodgy looking stairs to come out onto a kind of concrete mezzanine floor. Turn left and be greeted by......
..an absolute splash of riotous verdant growth and colour. A tiny space, just the ground floor equivalent of the balcony but absolutely crammed with pots, planters, baskets, planted up coffee mugs, drink bottles and off cuts of rain-gutter. Even cracks between slabs had been planted - some decent sized sunflowers tower from a half inch crack between path and the main building.
The whole is adorned with a completely mad eccentric but joyous mixture of plastic teddies, mermaids, dragon flies, lanterns and candle holders, coloured glass and stones. The flowers are all insect friendly - nasturtiums, lavender, marigolds and various climbers we didn't recognise, a-buzz with bees and hover flies. There's even a tiny bird feeder.
Amazingly the local "hoodies" seem to leave the old girl alone, and nothing gets vandalised or touched, even though it's well within reach of sticky fingers. On the contrary, this lovely crazy old girl's efforts seem to have spawned a local enthusiasm for adopting the grim civic planters, painting them up beautiful colours and planting them. More gardens are starting to appear on balconies and outside other flats in the area.
It's a real oasis in the middle of urban utilitarianism. Fair play to this lady, and more power to her elbow. Dad says this kind of thing makes the whole thing more worthwhile, somehow. Easy to be a wildlife gardener in Acacia Avenue, middle class leafy suburbs well protected from the madding crowd. Not so easy exposed like that to the whims of some of the local Herberts.
Ah well, Happy Birthday Haggis. Mum will be home soon from visiting Diamond (our thoughts are with you Di - we know it's a bit rough just now. Hang in there.
Deefski
Monday, 3 August 2009
One of us will kill her...
Mum returns with an amusing story from Hospital. She's booked in this afternoon for an appointment but there's been a hold up and the waiting room is backed up 1 and a half hours (not too many people - these are quite long appointments). Everyone is quite philosophical about this - these things happen and it had been 2 hours but the staff and Receptionist had worked through their lunch hour to help catch up.
Everyone is quite philosophical (sitting, reading etc) EXCEPT that is for one tulip from Margate who decides the way to deal with it is to start shouting her dissatisfaction at the Receptionist from across the room (staying in her seat). Everyone feels a bit awkward and embarrassed. Mum also feels hungry because she's missed her own lunch and has been sitting there a while.
Eventually one of the staff comes out and explains patiently to the lady about the hold up but says the current "victim" will 15 more minutes, then there's just (Mum) and it'll be her turn. Mum spots the opportunity to nip for a bite of lunch and visit Diamond (who's in the same hospital), while at the same time helping the harrassed Receptionist and maybe shutting up the large, loud, Mrs "Margit".
She has a quick chat with the Staffer, and then clears it with the Receptionist, that she swap places with Mrs Margit and nips out. "That's very sweet of you", says R, "but why would you do that?" Mum (in a whisper) says that "otherwise that woman will shout at us all for the hour and one of us will have to kill her".
She smiles as the R tries not to giggle, and as Mum slinks out she hears the R start up... "That very nice lady who has just left has generously volunteered to let you have her appointment time.... etc". Unfortunately Mum was out by then but we all hope the loud one has sufficient shame to be crawling with embarrassment.
Go Mum!
Deefer
Everyone is quite philosophical (sitting, reading etc) EXCEPT that is for one tulip from Margate who decides the way to deal with it is to start shouting her dissatisfaction at the Receptionist from across the room (staying in her seat). Everyone feels a bit awkward and embarrassed. Mum also feels hungry because she's missed her own lunch and has been sitting there a while.
Eventually one of the staff comes out and explains patiently to the lady about the hold up but says the current "victim" will 15 more minutes, then there's just (Mum) and it'll be her turn. Mum spots the opportunity to nip for a bite of lunch and visit Diamond (who's in the same hospital), while at the same time helping the harrassed Receptionist and maybe shutting up the large, loud, Mrs "Margit".
She has a quick chat with the Staffer, and then clears it with the Receptionist, that she swap places with Mrs Margit and nips out. "That's very sweet of you", says R, "but why would you do that?" Mum (in a whisper) says that "otherwise that woman will shout at us all for the hour and one of us will have to kill her".
She smiles as the R tries not to giggle, and as Mum slinks out she hears the R start up... "That very nice lady who has just left has generously volunteered to let you have her appointment time.... etc". Unfortunately Mum was out by then but we all hope the loud one has sufficient shame to be crawling with embarrassment.
Go Mum!
Deefer
Sunday, 2 August 2009
Boxers, Beers and Birds
We meet Skiboo again on the rec - a fine handsome Westie from out towards the village of Graveney. He's a real stocky show-dog shape with a handsome face (like Haggis's). See also my May 2nd post.
The title? No, we've not gone all male-chauvinist here. One of Dad's 2CV chums (actually an exponent of the 2CV kit-car conversion called a "Lomax") holds a garden party each year at around his birthday. 2CV engines, "as any fool no", are 2 cylinder horizontally opposed units, known by the nickname of "boxers". Beers are easy to explain (this being a bloke-ish party, although there are plenty of other-halfs there too).
Birds? Each year the food is a real treat - a range of salads, but then a choice of meat around a theme. The first year "bangers" (all sorts of exotic and weird sausages including wursts and chorizo type stuff). The 2nd year "Burgers", again - all sorts from venison burgers to good ol' USA style hamburgers. This year the "birds" refers to all sorts of poutry products (duck spring rolls, spicy chicken wings, lemon chicken, chicken kievs etc.
We wonder where the host can go from here, fast running out of B-words to go with his boxers and beers. Baking maybe?
It's a lovely sunny day, so it's roof-down 2CV motoring, Dad resurrecting the straw hat for the first time since the "Sussex" Saga Sunshine.
Deefski
The title? No, we've not gone all male-chauvinist here. One of Dad's 2CV chums (actually an exponent of the 2CV kit-car conversion called a "Lomax") holds a garden party each year at around his birthday. 2CV engines, "as any fool no", are 2 cylinder horizontally opposed units, known by the nickname of "boxers". Beers are easy to explain (this being a bloke-ish party, although there are plenty of other-halfs there too).
Birds? Each year the food is a real treat - a range of salads, but then a choice of meat around a theme. The first year "bangers" (all sorts of exotic and weird sausages including wursts and chorizo type stuff). The 2nd year "Burgers", again - all sorts from venison burgers to good ol' USA style hamburgers. This year the "birds" refers to all sorts of poutry products (duck spring rolls, spicy chicken wings, lemon chicken, chicken kievs etc.
We wonder where the host can go from here, fast running out of B-words to go with his boxers and beers. Baking maybe?
It's a lovely sunny day, so it's roof-down 2CV motoring, Dad resurrecting the straw hat for the first time since the "Sussex" Saga Sunshine.
Deefski
Saturday, 1 August 2009
Back in the old Routine
It's a normal Saturday, and we get a standard walk to the Rec. We meet old frineds Barney (westie) and Smudge (long haired Jack Russell who chases a ball endlessly till his over heated and tired state shows up in the redness of the insides of his ears). We also meet new kid on the block, 5-year old (maybe) rescue westie Jessie. She's only been in town a couple of weeks with her new owners, so it's good that she's discovered the Rec, hub of dog-social activity that it is.
Dad is off up to the allotment which is now in full flow of productivity. He returns with some last broad beans, but also French and runner beans, chard with massive leaves, cherry tomatoes, courgettes, baby beetroot, a small Summer Cabbage, Grannies and Discovery apples, and some first new potatoes.
The gang head off to visit Diamond, still languishing in hospital and undergoing treatment (so Rags is still on his "hols"). She is OK -ish, but feeling weary and aching, and also a bit fed up with some of her family members. She will be apparently allowed home soon, for a rest between the various episodes of treatment, and is looking forward to being able to relax in her own, proper bath.
Look after yourself, Diamond, and get well soon.
Mr S writes (Thanks, old chum). We have now managed to copy our photo's of the hols onto the memory card of one of those digital frames, so it's rolling round in the living room. Have you got the CD yet Mr S ?
Have a good weekend
Deefer
Dad is off up to the allotment which is now in full flow of productivity. He returns with some last broad beans, but also French and runner beans, chard with massive leaves, cherry tomatoes, courgettes, baby beetroot, a small Summer Cabbage, Grannies and Discovery apples, and some first new potatoes.
The gang head off to visit Diamond, still languishing in hospital and undergoing treatment (so Rags is still on his "hols"). She is OK -ish, but feeling weary and aching, and also a bit fed up with some of her family members. She will be apparently allowed home soon, for a rest between the various episodes of treatment, and is looking forward to being able to relax in her own, proper bath.
Look after yourself, Diamond, and get well soon.
Mr S writes (Thanks, old chum). We have now managed to copy our photo's of the hols onto the memory card of one of those digital frames, so it's rolling round in the living room. Have you got the CD yet Mr S ?
Have a good weekend
Deefer
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