Thankyou, everyone, for your kind words about Rusty.

=^^=

And now, moving on to other things… ( I wonder if there is a word [a syndrome, perhaps?] for people who go a bit silly with ellipses?)…

“What Did You Do In The War, Mummy?”

Most of my readers are much too young to remember the war. See? Even I am so old I still say “the war” without defining it. We currently have so many wars on the go one needs to keep one of those planner charts to keep up with the state of play.

But the war I’m talking about here is The Second World War. WW II, as we used to write it in the old days, in order to save ink and time.

Europe had been tearing itself apart for some four years and a lot of people could see no end in sight, despite stirring speeches from Mr. Churchill (on one side of the Channel) and Mr. Hitler (on the other side.)

England was re-smelting park railings to keep the RAF flying. Housewives were doing innovative things with dandelion roots and hay boxes. When drapers ran out of black cloth people improvised with all sorts of plant dyes. Small boys couldn’t make catapults  ’cos their mothers had no spare knicker elastic.

And social evenings were held to boost morale. Even in far-off outposts of Empire.

And so it was that two friends, in a city a long way from the bombs of the Luftwaffe (but a wee bit scarily close to the torpedoes of Japan), decided to go to a “cheer the soldiers” dance, billed as  vice-versa.

Katherine was a whizz with the sewing machine and she made a pair of culottes with one full, silky, flowing leg and one plain serge leg. She topped this with a 50-50 shirt – one half plain white, the other half cut from a chintz curtain in a flowery red and pink pattern.

And her friend…

…was refused entry to the ladies’ powder room!

&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&

…or probably not! But it’s a good story so read on:

I’ve mentioned (once or twice) that I swim, during warmer weather, at an outdoor pool. Lashings of 30+ sunscreen, of course.

This pool is just off the highway and on a busy city road so yes, we get the odd whiff of diesel as big trucks grind down or up through their gears. We also get more than a whiff from the kitchens of at least two burger bars. Early in the morning, when the coffee is fresh-brewed, it’s not too bad. But the burger smells? Let’s just say that this would make a good way to convert the carnivores!

Anyway, once into the stroke/breath rhythm I can usually block the oily pong.

I was trying to improve my backstroke (I have a terrible tendency to go sideways!) when I noticed a pretty blue bird perched on an overhead flag line. Blue? Not a wren. A swallow? what the…swallows are not blue. Well, not that bright turquoise. Not around here.

I stopped at the end of the lane and looked again. Sure enough, they were swallows, flitting across the water, sometimes skimming the surface, and perching on the flag lines. And they were BLUE!

Visions of Audubon accolades! Learned dissertation forming in my mind! Acceptance speeches!

But a good field researcher never leaps to conclusions, right? So I finished my 2 kms, went shopping , had coffee with a friend. And when I got home I grabbed all the bird books and looked for swallows. That narrowed it down a bit since most of our bird books are on raptors, but I did find some swallow entries. And none of them this distinctive blue!

Did I send faxes and emails to universities? No, I did not. And a good thing, too, as I had a closer look at the swallows next day.

Did I mention that the pool is blue? The big shade cover is a deep turquoise? The tiled coping is, yes, blue.  And the Barn Swallow’s breast is a pale creamy shade. And the sunshine very bright!

So no Hirundo rustica dinahii . But you might like to check this link. Just in case I’m wrong. I’ll credit you in my paper!

Barn Swallow, Hirundo rustica (possibly the sub-species, H.r.rustica)

And this is moi, demonstrating the correct method of holding a raptor without injury to either party. It’s a very old photo, but I think that’s a juvenile kestrel.

Moving on now from birds (well, clearly, I’m not an expert, so I think I should move on!) to the felines Chez Dinahmow.

I’m sad to report that Rusty is nearing the end of his road. A long and eventful road, it must be said.

He has been with us only a few years, but it seems so much longer. Long-time readers might remember that Josh was still here when Rusty arrived. There was, naturally, a little squaring-off and the odd contre-temps, but they settled  matters amicably and were good friends.

Early in his life, Rusty made the mistake of tackling a whip snake. This cost him some time at the vet’s and his then family a rather large bill. But, despite the odd scratch and the general wear-and-tear of many years, he’s managed to keep his looks.

“You called?”

Right now, the old boy’s in a sunny patch in the garden, but I’ll bring him indoors soon as I have to go out and he’d be too vulnerable on his own.

Some things take a little time…some things seem to take forever!

I’ve been off-line due to a landline fault. Apparently. All seems well again, but, of course, there is a backlog of stuff. Not to mention 143 items in the reader!

But…drum roll…I have three names from my comments . Just drawn at random- no dumb questions. Naturally, the draw was conducted under scrup scroupu very ethical conditions.

Rusty and Sporran making the first draw.

Of course, they insisted that being roused from a nap to hook bits of paper from a hat would cost a “little something.” However, bribed with a few crunchies, they drew:

First…Pearl, from Feline Fine.

(Although I suspect Pearl’s person will claim the print!)

Rusty drew Hilke.

I hope this suits your new studio wall, Hilke!

Geiger had disappeared so Sporran scrabbled in the hat, found one more crunchie and drew…Ziggi!

Perhaps not as exciting as a brisk canter on the  Fredster, but I hope you like it, Zig.

So, ladies, if you’d email me     diane.patmore@gmail.com     and let me know your postal addresses, I’ll lasso a snail and send the prints on their way.

And thankyou, all of you, for sticking with me, even when I don’t have much to say.

I suppose I should go through that reader list…one hundred and HOW MANY!

Back again soon…

Well, look at me! Posting again. So soon!

No, I’m not trying to set records. I’ve just been sent some beautiful owl pictures. Actually, I was a bit hesitant to open the file, given its title.In some quarters  the definition of hooters can get you into no end of trouble!

But it came from a friend who knows The Man and I have a fondness for these birds so I opened the file.

Beautiful shots! See if you agree…

That’s all for now…I have work to do. (I was going to say I’m a working girl, but, along with the hooters…all sorts of cyber creeps might turn up!)

Well,I don’t know why, but I can’t seem to fix this.

It works for me, but that may simply be because it’s on my hard drive as a Google document.

But they really are beautiful owls.If anyone is desperately keen to see them, email me. diane dot patmore at gmail dot com

Hey! My blog – my rules!

Hilke (a fantastic bookbinder; click on her name [beuchertiger] in the comments to see some of the things she makes.) is a newcomer so that last question about popular posts is probably a little unfair.

So…I’ve decided that the winner of this fabulous giveaway will be drawn simply from comments. Forget the questions! Seriously, who would NOT have known the All Blacks?

And my completely trustworthy, utterly unbiased random selectors will make not one, but three-yes! THREE draws. (That’s one each.;-) )

And, no, I’m not saying what else is up for grabs. Oh, come on people! You’ve all been spoon-fed by governments for for too long! Where’s your sense of adventure?  It costs you nowt; don’t be such skinflints!

Leave a comment and on the anniversary day my assistants will draw 3 names.

Now…having been messed around all day (ALL BLOODY DAY!) by Google, I have some catching-up to do.

What was wrong? Well, I have never selected Deutsch as my preferred language, so when everything  suddenly showed up in German…well, I was a little annoyed. Mainly because my Deutsch is now limited to jokes with a Swiss friend and yelling for beer at Oktoberfest.

Ah, well…at least I am still able to laugh!

And, Kaz…when so many brothers show up it’s not funny!

…We must never lose sight of the truly marvellous talents of some “mere mortals.”

I wandered in  with my 5am coffee to check for emails I was expecting (I need confirmation and information before I can finally push the button on a piece of work.) and found this…

I’ve just selected a couple of pieces, but I found the website link for this “paper engineer.” Sculptor? How about “genius”? Allen Eckman, I dips me lid!

http://www.eckmanfineart.com/works.html

I’m going to pour another cup of coffee and have a wallow…

…in art of a (slightly) different kind. Does anyone else out there follow Urban Sketchers? Yes? Then you already know this! But some readers may not be aware of the visual treats so many artists share on this site.

Well, today they’ve posted this link to a show in Portugal.

http://www.urbansketchers.com/2009/10/diarios-graficos-exhibit-in-portugal.html

Too bad Australia’s so far, far away…

Long-time followers might remember this fellow.

Web picture from the State Govt. of koels (him an’ her)

But just in case you don’t remember, or if you’re a newish reader… this is the sound I hear day in, day out.

http://www.pentaxing.com/sounds/298-01-01_Eudynamys-scolopacea_Common-Koel-(Male)_2005-10-25.mp3

And I’d better pose question #3  …  any idea which post was the most popular?

Ooh! I see pewter-coloured clouds over the ocean. Dare I hope?

What a crazy, wound-up world this is! I did manage to complete some of my tasks, but had to forgo my 2kms swim.

Right! Thinking caps on. Pay attention. (and for the benefit of non-Catalonians, this will be conducted entirely in English!)

Qestion #2 in my little contest: by what name is my country’s Rugby Union team known?  Answers in yesterday’s comments column, please.

At one point I thought of asking you to identify my new banner. But that would be a little unfair. Would you like to know, anyway? Oh, alright, you’ve twisted my arm. It’s a native of New Zealand, Vitex lucens. Its seeds are greedily devoured by pigeons and its timber highly prized for its beautiful straight grain.

I’ll be back tomorrow with another question. Mind you, there doesn’t seem to be much of a rush. Perhaps that print doesn’t appeal? Maybe I should offer something else? Hmm…

I does a lart o’ la’eral thinkin’…tha’s to say I thinks lyin’ down.

And one of the lightweight little thoughts that fluttered by was: is erratic, occasional posting like the half glass? Is it worth imbibing or simply a waste of our time since we don’t experience the full, rounded flavour and all the subtle nuances of the beverage?

And it was not a giant leap from this thought to parody (hey! in my thinking position, nothing’s a giant leap!)

And I wondered if…

…   Now that I’m busy, struggling to post

Maybe once a week

Will you still be coming here, looking for laffs?

(Maybe you’re just coming here, looking for gaffs!)

If I gave up and deleted the blog

Would you howl for more?

Will you still need me…

Will you still read me…

When I’m sixty four?

And if I offered a “little something” as a thankyou, would anyone be interested?  Depends what’s on offer, I hear you all chorus! Depends what we have to do for it, I hear others mutter.

Okay, here is what I’m offering…

It’s a lino print and, being too big for my scanner I’ve had to crop a rather mediocre photo. It measures 47×19cm or 18 1/2 x 7and a half inches.*

And all you have to do is answer some simple questions. Then leave your answers in the comments section of this blog post. On the blog’s third anniversary I’ll count up all the correct answers and one of my able assistants will draw a winner from a hat. Or perhaps I’ll get all technical and use one of those random generator wotsits. Like ERNIE. (Is ERNIE still going? The bugger has never picked me so I don’t think he’s very efficient!)

Question #1. How did I introduce myself when I started blogging?

This page will self-destruct in -oh! no , that was “Mission Impossible.” This is much easier.

Question #2 will be in tomorrow’s post.

Not part of the game, but here’s a question:

*Why did Mr. Gates and his little elves not put simple fractions on the keyboard? Who can be bothered scrabbling around in the symbols chart for 1/2 expressed as 1 above, as opposed to beside, 2?

Again!

Must be something in the air, but I’ve had occasion to reflect on old times, old friends, dead friends.

Oh, don’t worry…I’m not going all maudlin.

I read in a press release from a London hospital that a woman named Lucy Vodden had died recently. If you’re very young the name may mean nothing to you. But oh boy! her death has re-ignited the old debate on a Beatles song. I really didn’t care, back then, if it was “code” for the most popular drug of the day and I certainly don’t give a damn now.

beatles.com image

Then, quite by chance, I heard the song yesterday. Made me smile.

Perhaps there was something crackling in the ether…I had an email from an old friend who’d dropped off my radar. Lovely to be back in touch.

I used to keep a diary. Well, more of a things-I-did and things-to-do scribble, really. Phone numbers, addresses, that sort of thing. And, this being a time when I and most of my friends were “on the road” a lot, the diary had a lot of crossings out. I didn’t see any need to hang on to that sort of rubbish and usually didn’t keep it much more than a year.

So I was surprised to find a notebook tucked away inside a box. Ye gods! People I’d not thought of in decades! Some, of course, whose memories stay close to the surface. Like Vincent Price.  vincent price.org

We swapped recipes and truly horrible puns. He was a very  enthusiastic (and good) cook.

So was someone else, whose real name I never did know.

Stranded one night when a blizzard closed the rail line, I found myself, with half a dozen others, in a really grotty little cafe. Well, a sandwich bar, really. The man who slapped butter and ham onto bread for  daily commuters was about to close, but grudgingly let us in. Shivering and looking like snowmen, we huddled around the counter, sniffing. And …something wonderful was teasing our frozen noses. Sniff, sniff…

Sandwich Man disappeared through one of those plastic strip curtains and we could hear voices. Sniff, sniff… A woman of “ample proportions” appeared through the curtain, nodded at us, evidently counting heads, disappeared  again and we could hear pans and crockery rattling. Sniff, sniff…

And then these two wonderful people reappeared, bearing a big pot of Paprikash and enough bowls  and spoons for us all. God! That was a meal to remember. The man spoke little English, but his wife (?) managed to convey that they’d left a thriving cafe in a small town in Hungary in ‘56. Lost all their possessions, some of their family and almost died before stumbling across the Austrian border.

I think of them often when I hear people who have never known such hardship say “we can’t take any more refugees.”

Oh, you’re salivating for  a taste, yes? You could probably find any number of receipts  on the web, but I’ll give you a link to a blogger who, only hours ago, posted her recipe.

Now, I must go and put on my thinking cap and decide how best to celebrate 3 years of blogging. Hmmm…it’s a tricky one. Got any ideas?

This has been doing the rounds for a while, but just in case you missed it…And I bet Anthony Quinn would have loved it. Hell! He’d have joined in, I’m sure.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=O-MucVWo-Pw

Incidentally, you can see these dancers (also on Youtube) performing at the NSW Art Gallery, but I think the dancin’ in the shed is tops.

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Murraya koenegii

Called the “curry plant,” the leaves are used to flavour  -wait for it -curries! I planted this one in a few years ago and it suffered near-terminal damage when a foxtail shed a frond. But here it is, back again.Or perhaps this is a seedling? Great for that authentic curry  flavour, but I have to say, the green leaves stink!

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I might have mentioned, in passing, that I like  handmade books. So when I saw this my jaw dropped. Gob-smacked and flabbergasted don’t cover it. Kudos to you, Ronnie – my patience would have run out long before the thread did!

Well, that ghastly dust seems to have gone (apparently, across the Tasman, and just as well it was  at the latter end of the ski season!) so now I have no excuse for not cleaning  windows.