Blue Witch

Monday night

And finally the balls were finished and installed (see below). Along with lots of planting, another 2 Baby D'Oves hatching (that's three broods - 6 D'Oves - already this year, which now brings us back to where we were last summer before Disaster Struck), and 2.5 litres of Pimm's. Albeit 2 litres of lemonade and only half a bottle of Pimm's. We've run out of cucumber and orange, so we had sliced apple and lemon balm in it instead (Mr BW was so tired after planting tubs, making pencils and balls all weekend that he failed to differentiate foliage correctly in The Herb Garden). It was actually rather refreshingly different.

The Long Border looks absolutely beautiful at the moment. Sadly I can't get a single photo to do it justice, it's just one of those uniquely experiential things, and my pencils (see below) just couldn't have drawn it better.

I am artisitic, but not in a conventional sense. I can group things and put displays together, I can put colours together, but it doesn't all come together (to my satisfaction, at least) on paper because I am too much of a perfectionist and want any piece of artwork to resemble a photo. I've always said that my garden is my canvas, because it cannot be controlled, or rushed, so I can cope with the discrepancy between plan and reality.

The new Giant Pencils (see pictures below) are my symbolic representation of that. And the colours are the colours of The Coven Long Border - blues, lilacs, pinks, whites. Now all I've got to do is get them to stand vertical and parallel. And make a rubber to go with them...

The Project Progresses

(Continued from below)

Is anyone any the wiser now? Round fencing posts have always reminded me of these, every since I was a Small Witch. And now, we've made some. But they're not quite finished.

Careful Obsessive readers may be able to tell me the relevance of these to The Coven Grounds. Possibly.

Thought for the day

Why do we always wake up with the alarm on weekdays, but before the alarm would have gone off, even though it isn't set, on weekends and bank holidays?

Tomorrow's project

Involves these (4 fencing posts - apologies for the poor picture quality).

Any ideas what it is to be?

"New Balls"

Always ahead of our time with garden design (although I find it annoying when what we lovingly constructed from carefully sourced bits and bobs about 5 years ago in The Coven Grounds appears in ready-made easy-to-install format in shops and garden centres because it makes us look like we are sheep rather than trend-setters) I've just had an idea.

Watch this space. I've got to go and make it...

And, much later...

Explanation:

The built-into-the-new-Citrus-Grove base of the cantilever parasol had sticky outy bits that Mr BW had covered with grease so that the nuts would still screw at the end of the season. I was concerned that someone (ie me) would (a) trip over them, or (b) get covered in grease.

I had some ping-pong balls left over from silly games at some Nice Ladies' Party (don't ask ;)).

Mr BW always likes playing with his thing. So, with the help of his trusty Dremmel, he bored a hole in each ball (narrowly avoiding his own I might add).

In The Coven Workshop there were some 19 year old tins of Humbrol Enamel model paint, left over from when I made a number-line snake for a maths project when I did my PGCE. Mr BW stirred each pot and, a quick spell later, they had all come back to life.

Mr BW painted the balls, and put them on green sticks, held in the vice, to dry.

Tomorrow we will fit them over the parasol protruding screws.

There, Diarmuid Gavin inspired screw ball covers.

Now you know :)

That project took 30 minutes from start to finish.
The rest of the day we have been planting.
I ache.
Lots.

Unusually, BW does TV

Just been catching up on this week's Chelsea Flower Show coverage on videotape. Noted that Germaine Greer not only has D'Oves, but also lives within 20 miles of The Coven. Great minds and all that garbage :)

And then there's Big Brother. Still trying to decide whether I'm going to run with an idea I've had for following Ahmed, Dan, Emma, Jason, Kitten, Marco, Michelle, Nadia, Michelle, Stuart, Vanessa and Victor for the next 10 weeks... (could you all stand it?)

But, for now, my only observation is, how interesting it is that only 2 of 11 were able to instantly decide who least deserved their suitcase, having spent 24 hours in the company of the others. Thong-Man Jason might have redeemed himself, at least in my eyes, tonight as well.

And, is there a need for the BW Church of Blog to be opened for confession again tomorrow? ;) I heard on the BBC News this morning that the other cyber-church has had to close its message boards due to, well, let's just say cyber-sex.

The 53rd Make Blue Witch Laugh Award

This week there are 3 contenders. But, given the weather forecast (which, for once, I believe as the planes from Stansted have been flying over since 6.30am, and they only do that on about a dozen days per year, always just before the weather changes from good to bad), I'm off to do some urgent outdoor jobs first.

5.45pm: Sorry, bit of a delay today. It hasn't rained (yet), so we had to stay out in The Coven Grounds until we were too tired to do any more. So, we've played with our virgin queens, pulled the old pansies, and washed my balls (really, we have). Oh, and laid out the new Citrus Grove. And coaxed about half the plants we've been growing in the greenhouse into tubs, and cleaned out the hens. Now for the contenders...

Contender 1: Terreus who posted about a way to keep foxes away from hens in cities, "apparently one method of putting off predators is for the man of the house to pee around the garden.” He went on to suggest that it might work for cats too. But then had to clarify with a comment:

Several people have mentioned this today via messenger so I think I need to clarify a point.

The idea is not to 'piss on the cat', the thought of me chasing a cat around the garden with my todger out trying to piss on it in the dark may appeal to you, but not to me.

The idea is that you're marking your territory, the same as they do.

I hope that has cleared things up.

Contenders 2 & 3: Steve and Elsie for pure comic value over the past few days in what I shall henceforth euphemistically refer to as "The Bare Christinas Episode". Lots of intertwined issues, all of a, let's say, broadly attention seeking nature;) Sometimes humour is the best way of exposing, and coping, in such situations...

I care not to pit my spells against people's perception of higher powers, so go find your own links :) (NB I'd suggest that you only go looking if you're not easily offended. If it helps, you won't find them at Elsie's, and you need look no further back than Wednesday... you will eventually need to cross the Great Divide and head West too. But, you're definitely getting no more clues for the latter because I would not give such a fictionally constructed (IMHO), bigoted, group of hypocrites the direct traffic).

Joking aside, one thing that always annoys me is people, like them, who take from others' blogs, and comment negatively on it on their own, without having the courtesy to even comment, or link to fuller comment on their own blog, at source.

So, today's winner... Steve and Elsie. Can't split the double act, so, 2 points and a trophy apiece.

Big Brother 5

Well, well well, what have we got here?

A gay, lesbian, bisexual, transgender, extravaganza. Don't get me wrong, I have no problem with any of that. At least it'll guarantee some sex this series ;)

Contrary to popular belief, I don't feature.

Shame. We could have done with an older powerful woman in with those kids... :)

Please note the number of my performance indicators that featured... Nice shades Mr Producers. Shame about the sound quality, good in parts, but room for improvement...

Balls up

Ooops, I'm Googling a bit too high up in the Chelsea Prize stakes. Sorry to the Irish man concerned. I didn't mean it, really :)

There's a song going round in my mind. From a 70s musical. I've rewritten the words while getting the washing in. I can't tell you why.

Interview tests

In my time I've had great fun devising various interview challenges for senior education department, and schools', staff.

In the late Eighties I got bored with setting up the usual paper-based in-tray-sort task prioritisation exercises, and devised one for headteacher selection that not only involved papers, but had an accompanying cassette tape. The tape started playing at the same time as the in-tray exercise, and was mostly silent, but, there were regular interruptions of the sort found in schools. Parent angry that their child had lost their cardigan, child with cut knee, social worker needing urgent info on a potential child abuse situation, teacher with dead class hamster, mid-day supervisor upset because her pay was 25p short... that sort of thing. All based on real-life situations I'd seen while teaching and then visiting schools.

I had endless amusement, and I suspect the tasks are still in use in odd corners of the three counties where I introduced them.

In the post this morning I've received notification that things have moved on with the sorting exercises. There is now a modern-day version:

A distinguishing feature of the Inbox Collection is its ability to stimulate a modern and technology based working environment. Instead of working with an in-tray of paper-based memos, the participant uses either a PC or laptop to work through an on-screen Inbox, designed to replicate a typical email application. The participant must deal with each email item in an appropriate manner, spotting links, making decisions and prioritising items where necessary.

Scoring is automatic: "Assessors can determine how long a participant has spent working on each item, how often each item is viewed and the order in which each item is prioritised. This information facilitates better judgements about participant performance."

I think I'll just email them and offer to soup-up the test for the real world, like I did with those headteacher selection tests.

You know, add in a few 'essential' modern-day office tasks as part of the exercise... write a couple of blogs, quick flick through BBC News headlines, order a couple of CDs from Amazon CDWow!, send and read a couple of personal e-mails... :)

What've I missed out?

Life and times at The Coven

Presumably in exchange for the nice application of Frontline administered to the Ginger Familiar late last night, I have this morning found a shrew in the laundry basket. Not what one needs when one has an armful of wet washing. At least this time it has a head.

*picks shrew up by tail*
*lobs it over hedge into nasty farmer's field*
*shudders*

A long time ago, when I was still a classroom teacher, I was doing a local history project with my 9 year olds. (Aside - *counts on fingers* - gosh, they must be 27 or 28 now. I feel old.) Anyway, a wonderfully inspiring elderly museum curator took us all on a walk around the small Somerset town where we all lived. Rather than look at street level, he encouraged us all to look at the roofs, the chimneys, the building join lines, as they show so much more about the development of an area.

Since that time I've always looked up, rather than down, when outside.

It's also something that is frequently mentioned to depressed people, in an effort to extend their horizons.

I suppose that's why I'm missing my 3 fireblight-affected-sacrificed-on-Wednesday-night-for-the-sake-of-all-nearby-apple-pear-and-hawthorn-trees. They were the last of the original trees at The Coven. Yes they were old, yes fruit trees don't live forever (actually, one of them was dead anyway, and another very unhealthy), and yes we have replanted more than we have had to take out, but their mature canopy added height to The Grounds. It will be a number of years before that dark green imposing overhead structure returns. And I hate killing trees. And I can't bear to look at the pile of grey ash that is all that remains of them. It's still warm and the pungent, cloying, smell of incinerated tree still fills the air, 36 hours on.

Thought for the day

Example is not the main thing in influencing others, it is the only thing.

- Albert Schweitzer

Clematis at The Coven Today

Oh no, I can't write about the tree felling epiosde now because I am so devastated by the news that Edward is in hospital. Have to nip off to do get well spells. Or something...

Last night's escapade

A 20 foot ladder, a broken chainsaw, a kind friend, an unkind farmer, a ditch, 4 foot high nettles, a 10 foot high funeral pyre for 3 trees (2 green wood) in the pitch black, a twisted ankle, some rats, and 30 litres of diesel go into this devastating story. Which may appear later. Or make up your own version...

Thought for the day

I am not young enough to know everything.

- Oscar Wilde

Snacks

My 3 favourite snacks are olives, macadamia nuts (why can't you buy these over here as readily as you can in the US or Oz?) and cashew nuts (preferably unsalted).

I'm not a very sweet Witch. If I crave something sweet it's usually dried apricots or dried cranberries.

I guess that makes me a Fruit and Nut Witch. Put together with Mr BW's chocolate obsession, we have a complete bar.

But I don't eat many snacks.

What are your favourites?

Garden News

Loving the Chelsea Flower Show coverage on BBC1 and BBC2 (finally, revenge on the sport obsessed!). Surprised that only 4 of the 21 Show Gardens won gold medals though. Pleased to see that Smug Diarmuid only got a silver-gilt for his Camelot-sponsored balls-up creation, A Colourful Suburban Eden.

The Long Border at The Coven is looking delightful. Peonies, aquilegias, snowball tree, lupins, delphiniums all in glorious shades of pinks, whites, blues and mauves.

But, tinged with sadness. At the weekend we noted that the very old crab apple tree in the hedge that backs the Long Border had set more fruit than ever before (the bees had obviously been working overtime). At dusk last night I noted with horror that all the fruit clusters and surrounding leaves had turned brown. A quick look in my fruit books and gardening encyclopaedias confirmed my worst suspicions. Fireblight. There is no cure except destruction. It's not many years since Fireblight was a disease that had to be notified to the Ministry of Agriculture (now DEFRA). Tonight the tree gets severely pruned back and the cuttings burned. Fireblight also affects hawthorn, particularly when in blossom. Our 10 foot high surrounding hedge is in blossom, and the thought of losing that is just unbearable.

Last year honey fungus, this year fireblight. Someone's trying to tell us something...

Thought for the day

First they ignore you, then they laugh at you, then they fight you, then you win.

- Mahatma Gandhi

Chain Blogging: Adverts

What's this? See here for details.

Driving around one afternoon last week, I half-heard something on the radio about the number of adverts that we are bombarded with every day. The average is, apparently, 2000. I wouldn't like to hazard a guess at how 'they' worked that out. However, let's take it at face value, even though it's clearly nonsense.

Way back in the depths of my early blogging I wrote a post about Acorn profiles. This is a classification system whereby your postcode places you into one of 54 'types' which are intended to illustrate likely consumer preferences and purchasing behaviour.

I've always been totally delighted that part of our Acorn profile says, "They rarely notice advertisements in newspapers and magazines and have a low level of interest in new brands."

Actually, I rarely notice adverts anywhere. Because I'm just not interested. What I don't know about I can't want, can I? And what I need I'll find. I just don't buy into blatant consumerism. And that is the sole purpose of advertising. I am not an easy person to influence. A few pretty pictures and carefully-constructed sentences will never manage it.

Living in a relatively isolated area no doubt helps, as there are no billboards in our narrow lanes. As there is also no public transport, when I go out I have to ride, drive (or fly :)) and, it's safer to watch the road than read adverts.

The only magazines I read are those that get delivered, on subscription (Country Living, Country Smallholder, Radio Times), I rarely buy newspapers (why pay for what you can get free online?), I have a pop-up killer, and I refuse to subscribe to online services such as Kinja and any of the Hotmail/Yahoo/Gmail webmail facilities, because I don't want to be bombarded by their incorporated adverts.

We're registered with the Mailing Preference Service so don't get junk mail, door-to-door leaflet distributors don't visit (too far for them to walk between houses), we never watch adverts on television (programmes on commercial stations get videod and Mr BW fast forwards through the breaks). We rarely go to the cinema, because I can't stay awake for long enough in the dark.

In fact, if anyone asked me to list memorable advertisements, I'd seriously struggle. I'd come up with things from the 1970s - Cadbury's Dairy Milk (wonderful slogan who else remembers it?), Hovis, Ready Brek, the B&H and Silk Cut advert series... and that's about it. And none of those have influenced my buying patterns.

Being this immune to advertising definitely saves me money. I rarely buy branded products, as I object to the proportion of the cost that is spent on advertising. Much better Value can be obtained by judiciously selecting unbranded products, where more of the purchase price goes on quality materials.

So, theoretically, I may be exposed to 2000 adverts a day. But I don't see any of them.

This is part of a chain of posts linked together by word association. The previous link in the chain was here. If you want to write another link here's what to do: Find a word, phrase or theme from this post to inspire your own and go and write it. It's that simple. Try not to write something that's similar to this post. That way the subject of the posts along the chain will vary. E.g. if I write about going to the doctor's, then don't talk about the last time you were ill, instead describe how you used to play Doctors and Nurses with the girl next door. Get the idea? Your post can be in any style you want. Copy this paragraph and tack it onto the end of your post, updating the link to point here, then leave a comment here that points to your new post.

Now get working on the chain, gang :)

No Comment

I've just dicovered that Enetation comments are now coming up on Google searches.

Drat and double drat. I'm going to have to decide whether to remove the Enetation code from my template (in my first year of using Blogger to post, I did, from time to time, put things in the comments that I wanted to protect from searches).

I know that there are other people around who do similar, so just thought I'd pass it on.

Thought for the day

Keep away from people who try to belittle your ambitions. Small people always do that, but the really great ones make you feel that you too, can become great.

- Mark Twain

Chain blogging

I was just thinking earlier on that things seem a little uninspired round and about at the moment. I tried to think up another blog stunt but failed. Probably because I'm in the middle of re-writing about 10 sheets of someone else's crappy English for a project I didn't want to be involved with in the first place. So I did a spell instead :)

Now Dave has come up with an excellent solution.
Starting tomorrow lunchtime, here.

On the Wings of a D'Ove

The Ginger Familiar

The 2 new Baby D'Oves are flying with Daddy D'Ove and Baby 1 and Baby 2 this morning, for the first time (Blanche - Mummy D'Ove - is at home hatching the next Babies).

I went out to try to capture some pictures. I trod on a shrew that someone (pictured above) left on the back door mat. Trod on with my bare foot.

She never brings her unwanted kills inside.
Except today.

She never decapitates shrews.
Except today.

That feel of squidge/spurt against bare foot is going to stay with me all day.

Thought for the day

Don't judge each day by the harvest you reap, but by the seeds you plant.

- Robert Louis Stevenson

Coven Project 3

Look here Cat Face, Mr BW said, "No walking on the brickwork." That means you too.

The base for the new Citrus Grove is finished. We had 9 bricks over. That's what you call a good estimate (and it was a genuine guess, the first number that popped into my head was 300, so that's what we ordered) :) Tomorrow evening, when it's fully set, Mr BW will fill up the gaps between the bricks with sloppy mortar. Then I can arrange the Citrus Grove (ie the pots that are hanging about in the background, and those still in the Summer House) on it.

The 'spike' is the (removable) base for a huge navy blue cantilever parasol. It's one of those that needs a paving slab and guy ropes to hold it down (about 10 feet across). We've positioned it so that it can be tilted around to face south or west and cast shade into the Mediterranean Garden.

It occurred to me this afternoon that if we worked every minute of every day all summer long there'd still be things in The Coven Grounds that we wouldn't get done. I just can't imagine ever living in a town again and needing to go out for 'entertainment'. I said this to Mr BW. He said, "Well, we can get a gardener if you like." Erm, no thanks, I rather like pottering around with a glass of wine in one hand and a watering can in the other as the sun slowing sinks towards the horizon. Although, sometimes I do wish I could be a bit more like Gertrude Jekyll and manage to garden genteelly in tweeds and pearls rather than a baggy tee-shirt and joggers.

And I watched the Chelsea Flower Show intro programme earlier. Why didn't I remember to send off my application form for tickets? Still, 2 programmes per day all week can't be bad. And will Dairmuid Gavin get that garden finished before Queenie arrives tomorrow? All through that series I've been desperate to get my hands on him. Purely to organise him you understand.

Coven Project 2

Left photo: Area dug out and parasol spike embedded.

Right photo: Witch's Hat brickwork pattern takes shape.

We're going to run out of bricks...

Brickwork patterns

Help!
I need some pretty patterns for laying bricks to make a nice design for the Coven Citrus Grove (under construction, see below).
I can find a 49 page pdf document of mathematical formulae, a few on Google images, but no whole page of pretty pics...

The 52nd Make Blue Witch Laugh Award

There are 2 contenders this week.

Contender 1: The return of Pob (complete with soft-change pages). I couldn't read his colour scheme, so he did me a special edition... . Let's see, how many more times will I be giving points for that one? :)
(Update - and the BW version now seems to be a permanent fixture in the sidebar. I love it when people respond to their audience's spells needs :))

Contender 2: I'm convinced that Alan just waits for opportunities to take honey from Witches ;) Yesterday afternoon I asked what we were planning to do with some building materials. He replied:

Building a street-side shrine for passers-by. They can leave small donations of food, flowers, or bird seed there for you, rather than having to disturb you and potentially face your wrath. It will contain an Action Man boy-doll dressed as a witch. And the cost is £8, haggled down from £8,000.

Winner coming later.
Got to go and play with those building materials first...

Oh yes... I was meant to be looking for brickwork patterns on Google, not putting up the MBWLA. Ooops.

Later: I have to give this week's Trophy and 2 points to Alan. Because I can't give it to Pob for copying Alan's idea from last week, now can I? I'll just have to hope that the BW Edition of The Uncertainty Principle doesn't disappear now. Perhaps 1 point, to go with his other 5, will console him? :)

Coven Project 1

This weekend's building project then (as no-one managed to guess it)...

A base for the new Coven Citrus Grove (some of which can be seen in pots in the middle background).

It's the corner of The Coven Lawn where the hen ark sits from February to May every year, while they are fertilising and demossifying it. Every year we end up patching the grass where their spiky feet have worn it away. The Citrus Grove has now expanded so that it can't fit into The Mediterranean Garden. So - Witchy brainwave, pave the odd-shaped corner, then the citruses can live on it in the summer and the hens in the winter.

5 big barrowloads of soil already shifted from that hole, and the pile of bricks is half of them. The yellow snake is a 'design hosepipe', the blue blob is part of my blue bottle collection and the orangey lump in the centre is the Ginger Familiar.

Watch this space for updates...

Friday afternoon puzzle

I've just taken delivery of 300 bricks, a tonne of sharp sand, 6 bags of cement and an 18" square concrete slab.

Why?

And how much did this little mini-building-site cost?

(and the lovely delivery man, who now has a PhD in geology - although he was an undergrad when he first started delivering to The Coven - was most disappointed that I didn't want it craned over the 10 foot tall hedge like I usually do. Said he'd been looking forward to the latest Witch Challenge all day.)

Yesterday

I was asked if I'd caretake a £1.5 million business for the next five weeks. Just be "your normal presence that commands respect from children, staff and parents alike." All I had to do was be around and hold the reins until the owners could find someone to take over. Proved my theory that some letters after one's name have magic properties. Higher order spelling skills.

I said no.
Immediately.
I didn't even to stop to think.
But now that I have, I am flattered, very flattered.
But the answer is still no.

Then a 'computer expert' turned up to unlock the previous incumbent's computer to extract any incriminating personal data.
(Aside: if you walked out of your job and weren't allowed back on the premises, what's on your PC that would incriminate you? Witchy tip: Remove it now, while you're thinking about it, because you just never know.)

He'd just got around the password when the previous incumbent's PA suggested that I might like to take said 'computer expert' for a cup of tea, as I was headed in that direction. And she whispered in my ear, "Make it take 10 minutes at least."

I'm not very good at small talk. Particularly with monosyllabic 'computer experts'. But I understood what I'd been asked to do, and I liked the previous incumbent. And I knew what personal data was likely to be on her PC that the company owners were desperately trying to access.

I thought about asking, "Do you come here often?" but decided it was a bit of a cliche.

So, I tried the, "I use voice recognition software as I got RSI from typing too much," to which I received the reply, "Right." I don't think it was meant as a pun either as his language skills weren't up to that level of subtlety. I asked, "Are many people you work for using it?" "No." I gave up and tried, "Do you know anything about cordless optical mice?" to which he replied, "Put the receiver on the tower under the desk and it will work better" (interesting, I thought, but useless, as I don't have one as I sent it back a year ago as it didn't work well enough for my liking).

Having made his tea, he started moving in the direction of the door. We'd been maybe 3 minutes.

Drastic action was called for. But what?

Inspiration arrived.

I 'dropped' my cup of tea on the floor, giving it a little launch in his direction. Success. He ended up covered in tea, and I ended up with just a splash on my leg. He grabbed a cloth and started cleaning up, including my leg (I must have had a Witchy premonition as, luckily, I'd given it the once over with Mr BW's electric razor while we were eating breakfast).

Anyway, it took nearly 20 minutes altogether.
Incriminating personal e-mails all successfully deleted by the PA in our absence.

None of that was anything to do with anything I'd gone to that place to do, but, all in a day's work for a Witch :)

Thought for the day

The binge drinking culture is the fault of the drinks industry.
Consumer debt is the fault of the banks.

What does the nanny state expect?
So say the media.

Oh please.

The tracks of my tears

Given that there are collections of just about every genre of music, theme of music and decade of music, why has no-one ever produced a commercial CD of 'music to be depressed to'?

So, today, let's have a think about what might be included...

What song(s) is (are) guaranteed to flatten your mood, and/or really allow you to wallow in destructive self-pity?

Thought for the day

The way I see it, if you want the rainbow, you gotta put up with the rain.

- Dolly Parton

Do as I say, not as I do...

The Green Party have just delivered a 'European Election Communication' to The Coven.

The woman arrived in an E-class Mercedes rather than on a pushbike.

Why do Green Party people always look so frumpy?

*looks in mirror*

*sighs*

When did that happen?

FA? FO!

Phone: ring ring, ring ring, ring ring
Me: Good afternoon, Blue Witch speaking
Male Voice: Erm hello, is that erm, erm... Miss Blue Witch?
Me: Mrs Blue Witch, but yes. How can I help you?
Male Voice: I'm ringing from Perfect Day Financial Services to...
Me: (interrupts) Are you trying to sell me something?
Male Voice: No, I'm ringing to offer you a completely free financial review
Me: Forgive me, but I suspect that my finances are in better order than yours! And you shouldn't be calling me because I'm registered with the TPS.
Male Voice: That doesn't matter...
Me: Thank you for calling and wasting my time (ends call)

10 seconds later

Phone: ring ring, ring ring, ring ring
Me: Good afternoon, Blue Witch speaking
Male Voice: Erm hello, er, erm... I've already spoken to you haven't I? Are you sure we can't meet so I can tell you all about the ways I can help you save money?
Me: Fuck off (ends call)

Who was he kidding?
Trying to sell financial services to Blue Witch??
From a company called Perfect Day Financial Services???
And breaking the TPS code????

You know the world is too small when...

On Monday morning there was a funny in my in-box. It came from an acquaintance in America. For once it was funny. Well, I thought so. I rewrote it into 'English' (altered some of the spelling, phraseology, products and punctuation), and posted it here.

I have just received another version of the original email.

The scary thing is, it's my rewritten version. There is no way that anyone could have made exactly the same alterations to it that I did.

48 hours and my own posts come back to haunt me...
From the forwards it's been through 2 multinational companies too.

Still waiting for someone to work out the mini-roundabout priorities thingy below...

Thought for the day

Why doesn't anyone know the right of way rules at mini roundabouts?

Mini roundabouts

Who can tell me the rule for who goes first?

When I was a Young Witch

This is what we had for entertainment.

And this.

Now I'm resorting to posting about Etch-a-Sketch and Boggle because I am hopelessly busy... (but, they are goodies those modern-day equivalents).

In fact, I think I want a real old-fashioned Etch-a-Sketch for christmas now. I wonder, can you still buy them?

Thought for the day

Men are taught to apologise for their weaknesses, women their strength.

- Lois Wyse

From the in-box

A shepherd was herding his flock in a remote pasture when suddenly a brand-new BMW advanced out of a dust cloud toward him.

The driver, a young man in a Brioni suit, Gucci shoes, Ray Ban sunglasses, and YSL tie, leans out the window and asks the shepherd: "If I tell you exactly how many sheep you have in your flock, will you give me one?" The shepherd looks at the man, obviously a yuppie, then looks at his peacefully grazing flock and calmly answers, "Sure. Why not?"

The yuppie parks his car, whips out his Dell notebook computer, connects it to his B&O mobile phone, surfs to a NASA page from which he calls up a GPS satellite navigation system to get an exact fix on his location, which he then feeds to another NASA satellite that scans the area in an ultra-high-resolution photo. Then the young man opens the digital photo in Adobe Photoshop and exports it to an image processing facility in Hamburg, Germany. Within seconds, he receives an e-mail on his Palm Pilot that the image has been processed and the data stored. He then accesses a MS-SQL database through an ODBC connected Excel spreadsheet with hundreds of complex formulas. He uploads all of this data via an email on his Blackberry and, after a few minutes, receives a response. Finally, he prints out a full-colour, 150 page report on his hi-tech miniaturized HP LaserJet printer and finally turns to the shepherd and says: "You have exactly 1586 sheep."

"That's right. Well, I guess you can take one of my sheep," says the shepherd.

He watches the young man select one of the animals and looks on amused as the young man stuffs it into the back of his car. Then the shepherd says to the young man: "Hey, if I can tell you exactly what your business is, will you give me back my sheep?"

The young man thinks about it for a second and then says, "Okay, why not?"

"You're a consultant," says the shepherd.

"Wow! That's correct," says the yuppie, "but how did you guess that?"

"No guessing required," answered the shepherd. "You showed up here even though nobody called you; you want to get paid for an answer I already knew; to a question I never asked; and you know fuck all about my business... Now give me back my dog."

Thought for the day

Angels can fly because they take themselves lightly.

- G.K. Chesterton

Sunday at The Coven

Lowest temperature of the week at The Coven: 3 degrees C
Highest temperature of the week at The Coven: 28 degrees C (today).

Hens safely moved back to The Coven Orchard (their summer abode) from The Coven Lawn (their winter abode). Lawn mown and nicely verdant, moss and weed free, thanks to the hens.

Baby D'Ove 1 and 2 appear to be at it even though Mummy and Daddy D'Ove are attempting to stop them at every opportunity. Baby D'Ove 3 made its maiden flight tonight, Baby D'Ove 4 is scared of heights and just squeaks, like me on the top diving board. Baby D'Ove 5 and 6 are due to hatch in 14 days.

Lots of gardening done. Melanin last seen in Australia appears to be resurfacing.

Tell me on a Sunday

On Tuesday the Church of England appointed its first web pastor to oversee a new parish that will exist only on the net. On the same day, the Church of Fools (?!!) was launched by the Methodist Church. This is a virtual church / online-game (?!!) that worshippers are able to attend online.

Maybe there is a need for such a blogland church?

In case there is, I hereby volunteer to preside over confessions.

Someone else can do the hims hymns, arrange the flowers, get the wine and crackers, count the collection, take the photos, or preach the sermons (ah, that's me, the rest of the week then? :)).

So, on Sundays, you are hereby encouraged to drop by the Church of BW and confess your sins. The congregation can then come up with a suitable penance ;)

But, please note, in the interests of peace and goodwill, only your own sins can be atoned for :)

The 51st Make Blue Witch Laugh Award

The world's gone mad. Well, the honey world anyway. The hayfever season has started and I cannot fill up the honey box outside the door as quickly as people are buying it, hoping for a quick cure (desensitization to the local pollens by eating honey does work, but not quickly, they should have started with a teaspoon a day back in February). That's not funny, because we don't sell honey to make a profit. Although it's nice that it covers the costs of our hobby, when you're constantly being interrupted, it's annoying.

Anyway, there are 3 contenders this week.

But, firstly the bonus points from yesterday's BW Friday Challenge. All the entrants (dave, Dave, Mr D and Alan) made me laugh, so one point to each of them. An extra point to Dave and two extra points to dave and Alan. I think that dave probably discouraged some who might have had a go with a priceless early entry. As someone said to me, it was more BW than BW! Thanks to all of you, a lot of fun. And wouldn't it be funny if Alan got trapped inside my template? (just spotted, and edited, risque word usage there ;)) It's happened before in blogland you know...

Now, the contenders:

Contender 1: Elsie posted about the joys of shopping when a mortgage was in prospect. But, give or take the odd pair of shoes (nah, that's got to be wrong, Elsie wouldn't be seen dead in odd shoes, would she? :)), and a few old bags, she claimed to be generally, 'low maintenance.' Mark remembered a competition he ran, and commented:

Low Maintenance??? May I remind you of this post?
Mark | Email | Homepage | 05.12.04 - 9:12 am | #

Your winning answer was:-
"I need a £5 voucher for No7 cosmetics and skincare, Ruby & Millie and FCUK vanity products because I'm high maintenance."
Mark | Email | Homepage | 05.12.04 - 9:13 am | #

Elsie replied:

Mark, you've just learnt an important lesson. Women lie to get stuff :)
Elsie | Email | Homepage | 05.12.04 - 9:20 am | #

Contender 2: Pewari's called her new baby boy: L'il Bhaji. Can you imagine what will happen when he goes to school? :)

Contender 3: billy birthday boy today:

...jobs that my father or mother would review every saturday morning when my brother and I would stand in front of them, hands held out, waiting for our pocket money...

of course, once my parents had introduced the idea that chores=monetary reward we never again did anything around the house unless it was for financial gain.

..empty the bin = 10p...empty the dish washer = 10p...kiss grandpa = 20p...eat my mother's cooking = 50p...

One point each so far...
Winner coming later - but, what a dilemma!
Who to give the trophy for this week, and the extra point, to?
New mum, birthday boy, or the woman who has now deprived us of comments?

Later: What is the world coming to? Outside there's an incestuous D'Ove orgy going on in the D'Ovecote, hot air balloons are sailing by, bees and hang-gliders are buzzing around. While inside, in comments, there's Timothy suggesting that Blue Alan is looking nice and tidy tucked up in my bed, while down below e is feeling for Pewari's perineum....

Oh, while I remember... this week's trophy to birthday billy. 50p pocket money to eat his mum's cooking indeed :)

Friday challenge

Following on from comments conversations at e's yesterday, I've been doing a spell all night to stop her going brown. It's gone disastrously wrong. She is still purple, which is good, but dave has changed from blue to brown. Ooops. As soon as the D'Oves come out of the washing machine (see below), I'll have clean white feathers for another spell.

From the same comment thread comes the inspiration for today's Friday BW Challenge.

Daisy is currently inviting people to write a blog post as if they were a famous person/fictional character.

I'm taking it one step further / probably setting myself up....

You are cordially invited to write a sentence, a paragraph or a whole post in the style of BW.

Extra MBWLA points may be made available...

Go on, this could be your only chance ever to spoof me (aka legitimately take the piss.... ) :)

Update: dave's started us off:
(hard act to follow, mind... bloody brilliant, one of the funniest things I've seen for ages, I'm still laughing - it's actually funnier than he could possibly know, although there are a couple of deliberate errors I see, and I had to do a bit of capitalisation :))

14p for two litres of diet cola at Tesco is awfully good value. So I bought a case and have invited the Nice Ladies round this weekend to help me sup it (the Bacardi was £4 for a litre and the plastic beakers were free after I complained to the manager of Costco last week that their 2-ply loo rolls were actually 1.5-ply and that my finger had 'gone through').

That box of old wooden legs that we bought at the pirates retirement home garage sale last month will come in handy when Mr BW fires up the bbq.

We 'accidently' knocked down a sheep in the lane yesterday so lamb kebabs cooked on knitting needles will be served as grub (Mr BW is currently locked in the shed spinning and dying the wool from the sheep in readiness for knitting a nice blue poncho and hat set tonight).

Mummy BW popped round yesterday but I hid behind the sofa till she'd gone. When I was sure she had left I ventured into the garden and was shocked to see her stuck half in and half out of the hen house. Stealing eggs from me was the last straw so I sprinkled hen food on her protruding behind and let the hungry hens do their worst (I checked on her before bed last night and her tweed skirt was very tattered).

Mr BW has cleaned the blood from the swanky chainsaw that I got him for christmas. It's ideal for running up a couple of hundred kebabs in half an hour and last weekend made short shrift of two stray Jehovas on the doorstep. He got the brains and blood cleaned up minutes before the village bobby called. Mr BW gave him a bag of home grown skunk and some old Rustler and Fiesta mags and he seemed happy enough.

Anyway, I've got to dash now. I'm helping some of the local children build a wicker man for next weekend's midnight ritual. The little dears have managed to bag themselves one of those townies from London to burn/offer (you know the ones, buying our country homes and sticking an old plough on the gravel drive for 'decoration'). She's chained up in the graveyard at the moment and is bound to be scared/thirsty so I might take some of that 14p cola down to her. Laters.

Updated Update: Dave has morphed into Clear Blue Wizard. Start here and read up. Hilarious.

Updated Updated Update: and now we have competition from Aprosexic Blue Warlord.

Updated Updated Updated Update: get ye over to Blue Oddverse, quick before he changes it back. And be sure to read right down the sidebar to the very, erm, bottom ;) And I've just noticed, he's even changed the bit that appears in the toolbar.... :))

Wash-Day Blues

Up early because one of my teddies has gone to Rotterdam for the day and the other one is currently revolving in the washing machine (complete with straw so he can breathe).

Everything seems to be going in the washing machine at present. I think I'm in one of those obsessive compulsive "nothing's clean enough" phases that I have every now and then.

Yesterday it was the lacy/net curtains from the front of the house (I discovered that that they are actually cream, not beige).

In fact, I'm currently eyeing up the D'Oves as my next potential load. Far from being white, they are currently a filthy grey / black. Not at all pretty. I don't know what crop they're growing in the field behind us this year (not the usual corn, and nothing that I recognise), but there is a 20 yard bare earth headland all round it, in which the D'Oves are delighting in feeding, particularly when it is raining.

What detergent should I use for D'Oves?

Thought for the day

If we do not change our direction, we are likely to end up where we are headed.

- Chinese Proverb

The worst website

This one will take some beating... :)

Value Witch

I've known about this one for a while, but have just been reminded of it by Martin the Money Saving Expert (you may have seen his excellent new book, "The Money Diet", in the shops - it details just about every BW Value Principle, and is highly recommended :))

When MOT time comes round, use a council-run MOT centre, who only do MOT testing. As they have no vested interest, roadworthy vehicles are passed without the requirement for dubious / unnecessary work to be carried out.

There's a full list of centres here.

Council-run centres often charge less than the standard rate for an MOT (currently £40.75 for a car) too. Although they primarily exist to test county council and public service vehicles, all of them will test private vehicles by appointment.

Thought for the day

Within any permanent relationship that has the power to last, there is not an account of 'I did this for him/her' and 's/he did this for me' kept. Each person contributes/takes what they can/need at any time. The minute either party starts adding up and keeping tabs, it's time to move on...

- BW, 10 05 04
(so, why shouldn't I recycle my comments? I recycle almost everything else :))

Violence begets violence

I am heartily sick of all the hoo ha about military indiscipline, abuse, torture and death of prisoners in Iraq.

Why is anyone surprised it has happened?

It is all on the same continuum as war.

All violence is wrong.
End of story.

If Daddy's Boy Bush hadn't felt the need to go to war and pulled Puppet Blair along with him, none of it would have happened.
End of story.

And there would have been a hell of a lot more of my, and your, money paid in taxes available for things that are important in civilised societies.

And aren't they all conveniently forgotting those 300 people, at least, still ensconced at Bush's pleasure, without charge or access to legal representation, or indeed, respect being given to their basic human rights, in Guantanamo Bay, Cuba? I wonder why?

Yeah, I'm a Simplistic Witch...

Photographic con

DG is extolling the virtues of digital photography.

Me, I'm not so sure.

Having a visual memory in the bottom 2% of the population (I barely recognise Mr BW when I see him somewhere that I'm not expecting), and no stamina or inclination for keeping a written diary, I rely on my photos to chronicle my life.

A shelf in the Inner Coven Library contains about 10 feet of photo albums of the time that we've been together. As long as I've got a picture, I can usually remember exactly what happened there. Without a picture, I've got no ''peg' from which to hang the words, and can rarely recall the specifics of any particular place or event.

I used to send my films to Directfoto for processing and printing as they are extremely quick, good value (£4.34 for a 36 film, including postage both ways and a replacement Kodak film), and the colours on the paper stand the test of time (well, the 9 years of my experiment, so far).

But, since the beginning of the year, we've been mostly using the digital camera.

As a consequence, I've had nothing printed out since we came back from Australia in mid-February (home printing is extremely expensive, time-consuming, and the colours are not robust).

So, I now have 3 months of digital images on my PC, not all of which I've got round to transferring to CD (does quick prayer to the God of Hard Drives), largely because I want to play with the colour/light balance on some of them first, even though I know in my heart of hearts that I will never get round to it. Plus, digital images on-screen (even on my high-quality monitor) are totally different to those that appear when they are printed out. And I have a sort-of Time Lordish* objection to altering images of the past anyway.

So, my essential pictorial memories are fast becoming out-of-control.

But, have you seen the price of having photos printed from digital media?

Directfoto, who I've loved for years, charge 20p for 6" x 4" prints from memory cards or photo CDs (and they won't reduce this unless you spend over £100, in which case they offer a paltry 10% off, and only if you ring and ask in advance). By contrast, the price from them for the 39 images one gets from a 36 film works out at 11.1p per print. Jessop's charge 15p per print from digital media, but I 'negotiated' this down to 9p per print when I had over 1400 printed we came back from Australia (actually, the poor assistant's arm is probably still hurting from the half-Nelson I was forced to use:)).

Why, then, does it cost double as much to have prints made from digital media, where the processing company don't have to process the film before they start printing it? It's a con. Time that someone like Which? looked at it methinks.

* While looking for that Time Lord link, I found a source suggesting that The Master in the 1980s Doctor Whos, Anthony Ainley, died yesterday, at the age of 72.

Many congratulations...

...to Pewari, Akra and Akra Jr whose new addition finally arrived yesterday at 12.41. Baby boy, 7lb 5.5oz.

This is the first blog-baby I've had the privilege of following from bump to real life (well, real-blog-life) - and it's been quite a saga, poor Pewari. All's well that ends well though, and I'm absolutely sure she thinks it's all worth it now :)

Pop over and add your bit.

And, Pewari, I've now added a new one to the "You know you're addicted to blogging when..." thingy :)

Daft tunes

Thanks to Random Mike for inspiring this one.

Radio 2 listeners recently voted that infamous Warren Zevon lyric, "Saw a werewolf with a Chinese menu in his hand, walking through the streets of Soho in the rain, he was looking for a place called Lee Ho Fook's, going to get a big dish of beef chow mein" as the greatest opening song line ever. I loved that when it first came out. Actually, I still do. Other contenders are here.

I was thinking the other day about wacky song lyrics in general.

My favourite is still Birdhouse in Your Soul by TMBG. More on that soon. Clue: it has something to do with D'Oves :)

Another that springs to mind is John Cooper Clarke's "I married a monster from outer space" (in the BW collection on orange triangular vinyl) (and what a truly fuckin' brilliant live performer - well, he was 21 years ago when I last saw him).

The milky way she walks around
All feet firmly off the ground
Two worlds collide, two worlds collide
Here comes the future bride
Gimme a lift to the lunar base
I wanna marry a monster from outer space

I fell in love with an alien being
whose skin was jelly - whose teeth were green
she had the big bug eyes and the death-ray glare
feet like water wings - purple hair
I was over the moon - I asked her back to my place
then I married the monster - from outer space

The days were numbered - the nights were spent
in a rent free furnished oxygen tent
when a cyborg chef served up moon beams
done super rapid on a laser beam
I needed nutrition to keep up the pace
when I married the monster from outer space

We walked out - tentacle in hand
you could sense that the earthlings would not understand
they'd go.. nudge nudge ...when we got off the bus
saying it's extra-terrestial - not like us
and it's bad enough with another race
but fuck me... a monster ...from outer space

In a cybernetic fit of rage
she pissed off to another age
she lives in 1999
with her new boyfriend - a blob of slime
each time I see her translucent face
I remember the monster from outer space

What other weird lyrics are there?

Thought for the day

You spend your life killing time...then in the end, time kills you.

- Anon

Blue Bottles

No, not the sort that I have been known to rescue from recycling banks for decorative purposes in The Coven Grounds... the nasty nasty large fly sort.

In the middle of last week I was walking in the field behind us and, just the other side of our hedge, I found a dead hedgehog, crawling with maggots.

When I had finished feeling sorry for the hedgehog (from the expression on its decomposing face it looked like it had died in agony), I briefly considered moving it somewhere, but decided it would make no difference.

In retrospect I should have buried it.

Because, in the warmth today, the maggots have all hatched.

It's the stuff that films / nightmares are made of...

The Witch Review of New Re-Vamped Blogger

Now, remind me, when is it that Google floats on the stock market?

Blessed are the cynical for they are rarely disappointed.

The new inbuilt comment system is worse than Typepad's by the way - and the comments you make don't appear instantly. And they appear not to let you use HTML. And there appears to be no way to ban IPs, as there is with all other commenting systems. Anyone want to stop me commenting on their blog - just change to Blogger commenting ;)

I have tried to log back into my old Blogger account (that previously denied me access). I can now get in again, but it took 14 seconds to log me in, and 9 seconds to bring up a post that I clicked on to re-edit.

Since I've been using Movable Type, I have only once lost a post, and have had no downtime that I am aware of. Thank heaven for Alans.

Only a group of men...

... could have named the new Ford Fiesta XR2 replacement, due out in the UK in late summer, the 'Fiesta ST'.

As was said on Top Gear last night, presumably if they do a diesel version, it will be called the 'Fiesta STD'.

Mind you, thinking about the numb-skull boy-racers who will buy and drive them, the latter is probably very appropriate :)

Thought for the day

Life is 10% what happens to you and 90% how you respond to it.

- Anon

I am not going to turn my PC on again today. Probably.

The 50th Make Blue Witch Laugh Award

Only one contender today as no one seems to have been very funny this week. It's a bit complicated, and will take some sorting out, and I'm a bit busy right now finishing something off, so, what I'm trying to say is, that it will be coming later. (Much later - scroll down....)

5pm
*deletes swear words*
(Yes, the VRS knows how to spell them ;))

I've just managed to somehow completely delete or otherwise misplace the .rtf file where I had the necessary bits and pieces stored. No searching or magic seems to be able to reappear it, so you'll have to wait a bit longer as I'm still doing what it is that I'm busy doing and haven't got time to completely redo it at the moment.

In the meantime, go and help finish off yesterday's quiz from DG, particularly if you are of a textual nature. (Come on, still one left...)

11.59pm It's no good, you know, don't you? For the first time ever, I failed to post the 'later' bit by the end of the same day. It's the Golden Anniversary of the MBWLA though , so, don't be too hard on me, OK? I worked my socks off getting paperwork completed yesterday (9 hours sat at this PC) so that I could have a whole day gardening today. I just hadn't any energy left by the time I'd finished.

So, finally the Award. Bit of a cheat this, and an opportunity to have a whinge (the warning's in the sidebar as I always say :)) by posting a comment, rather than write a separate post about it, as I keep meaning to.

CBS Dave wrote an excellent piece about revolutions. Worth reading in full. But, here's an excerpt:

The Energy Revolution

Commercially viable oil production has a limited amount of time left. The most pessimistic people say that, in as little as ten years, oil prices could be forced through the roof as the production becomes more difficult. More realistic estimates put it more like thirty years away. That's still not very long.

If we do nothing, the world as we know it will grind to a halt. Most of us, I'm sure, aren't aware of how much oil affects our lives at the moment. There are some very obvious ways; fuel for transport and power stations; but there are also other, much more subtle uses for black gold. Such as plastics, synthetic clothing & upholstery, fertilisers and medicines. Can you imagine what the world would be like if it suddenly couldn't generate as much electricity as before? If we couldn't drive our cars any more? If we couldn't grow food so efficiently? If we couldn't manufacture the synthetic materials that so pervade our every day lives? It would be chaos.

We have a golden opportunity, right now, to start looking for alternative sources for all of these things and making the decisions that will stave off any problems.

There are still big obstacles in the way, though. The first is the power of the oil companies, especially in the US, and their reluctance to really commit to finding viable, limitless alternatives. The second, more dangerous obstacle is in our own minds. It's all very well hoping that governments will get up off their arses and make real commitments to finding solutions to problems that may not yet occur for decades, but if we remain largely apathetic to the potential issues then those governments will take any excuse they can not to bother.

We need a revolution in the minds of the public. And we need it soon.

I posted a comment:

Probably 30% of people round here, where we have kerbside collections for paper, cardboard, plastics, tins, textiles, can't be bothered to sort their refuse in this way. On 'proper' dustbin day one has only to drive along the road to see all these items showing through their refuse sacks. Those with children appear to be the worst offenders.

If those who have children can't be bothered to even think about recycling to benefit future generations, then I'm not convinced that they could be bothered to think about things like solar power, wind power or electric cars either.

By the way, good to hear that 2 Jags was told to get an electric car the other day...

We were just powering up for a good debate when Mr D came along and took the wind right out of our sails:

Smirnoff Blue is the fuel for tomorrow. Possibly even tonight, if I'm home before the Offy closes

2 points and the Trophy for the week to Mr D. As it's the 50th you can even put a gold border round it, if you like :)

Question

What does the expression 'NBD' mean to you (if anything)?

Cutting edge

"The Swiss Army Knife has taken a leap into cyberspace with the latest addition to its ever-expanding range of tools.

One of the knife’s two makers has released a version with a memory key that plugs into computers."

(Link purloined from Pat)

My much-treasured high-spec Swiss Army knife, bought in Chamonix back in 1990, accompanied me on many travels by plane pre- September 11th (note avoidance of the term "9/11" :)). I used to carry it in one of the outside pockets of the bag I always take onto planes as hand luggage (note avoidance of the term "carry on" :)) and I must have done somewhere between 30 and 40 flights with it, and not once was it picked up during security checks.

I didn't ever really think about it then. But, I haven't risked testing the system recently as I prefer to keep it.

Thinking about some of the places my knife has been, and some of the uses it has been put to, there is no way that a flash memory stick would have survived intact.

Another designer toy for gadget boys methinks.
Would appeal to the 4x4 London/Home Counties set I'd imagine.

What's the most used tool on my knife?
Why, the corkscrew, of course :)

Thought for the day

Consistency is the last refuge of the unimaginative.

- Oscar Wilde

Going up

The UK base rate's just gone up another 0.25% to 4.25% (that's £2.50 per £10,000 of borrowing).

And, forward predictions are now that the base rate will be 4.75% by the end of this year, climbing to 5% in 2005 and 5.25% in 2006 (bear in mind that the standard variable mortgage rate is up to around 2% above the base rate figure).

This article gives a simple account of why this rise is necessary. But, basically it's because the current annual house-price rises of nearly 20% are not sustainable and 'we' borrowed a record £117 billion in the twelve months to March 2004 in order to fund 'our' need for more and more consumer goods.

*Sighs and runs off to find another new credit card with a 0% balance transfer option to stick straight in the offset mortgage account to make up for this*

Language

I went to one of those progressive Sixties primary schools where they believed in learning through practical experience (which was largely caring for the farm/zoo full of animals on the premises and digging new ponds in a big orchard for the 22 species of ducks). For each of these activities we were encouraged to make our own book (from sugar paper, cardboard, carpet tape and wallpaper paste), and allowed to put whatever we chose within it. It didn't have to be writing. It could be a piece of art work, a feather from one of the birds, a sheep's footprint, or indeed anything else we chose. But, it did have to be beautifully mounted. I suppose that's where I learnt the art of precise triple or quadruple mounting that has come in so useful for displays ever since.

At this school, Maths and English were taught as asides.

Maths using the Maths At Work scheme (10 pale blue covered workbooks with a large sunflower head illustration on the cover), and English comprehension using SRA (still in the American version in those days, but with lovely unusually coloured colouring pencils in colours that matched the stages - aqua, tan, gold, olive, to colour in the progress card).

We were encouraged to mark our own work by referring to the answer books that were always readily available. If you got stuck, you could ask the teacher, but they were more usually occupied helping other children weigh the latest chicks to emerge from the incubator, or helping the grounds maintenance group calculate how many chlorine tablets should be put in the swimming pool that week. I rarely got stuck, but when I did, a quick peek in the answer book enabled me to work backwards. I'd usually finished the formal maths and English work for the school year by Christmas, so when I got bored of digging ponds or filling home-made project books, I was enlisted to assist my less-able classmates with their work. I got very good at colouring squares on others' progress charts with those unusually coloured pencils.

So it was that, having passed the 12+, I found myself at a Grammar School knowing absolutely nothing about grammar. Which would have been fine, had it not been the fact that Latin was the first lesson on the timetable. Nouns? Verbs? Adjectives? Adverbs? What?

I struggled through the year, and, due solely to having no basics in formal English grammar (Well, OK, and very little interest in Romulus and Remus either), came the closest to failing an exam that I ever have - obtaining 46% where the pass mark was 45%. However, as it turned out, this was a stroke of luck as anyone obtaining above 60% was forced to carry on with Latin into the third year, those obtaining between the pass mark and 59% did German, and those failing did Spanish. I wanted to do German. I was happy.

Everyone did French all the way through, but, again, it took me several years to reach my potential in this subject, because of my lack of grammatical grounding.

Being bright, and having a mother who was a teacher (not that I ever took any notice of anything she ever tried to teach me, mind), I caught up eventually, but I wonder how many of my contemporaries from that progressive Sixties primary school have never mastered a second, let alone a third, language, due solely to the educational ethos of our initial schooling?

Anyway, all that was an aside from what I really wanted to say.

Which was, that my favourite words in foreign languages are:

Kugelshreiber (German for ball-point pen), and pamplemousse (French for grapefruit).

They sound lovely and feel nice in your mouth as you say them.

I think we might not get into the story about a New Year's Eve in a German Irish bar when, having been force-fed (or force-drunk?) umpteen peach schnapps and lagers, I was pogoing around shouting out, "Ich bin ein Kugelshreiber!" Best forgotten that one :)

What are your favourite words from another language?

Country Life

Here at The Coven we have mini golden orfes and goldfish in the pond, mini narcissi (picture below - they are about as long as a pencil, stems thick as chives and heads the size of a fingertip), baby D'Oves (some new ones, the earlier brood are now quite adult-looking, and even more coming in 3 weeks, I'd say, given the cooing and grooming going on between Mummy D'Ove and Daddy D'Ove last night while we were having pre-dinner wine and snacks in the summer house), thousands of baby bees, and thousands of vegetable seedlings just beginning to poke their heads through the soil.

Some robins have babies somewhere, judging by the food they are collecting, but I haven't yet worked out where. There are several hundred yards of hawthorn hedge around The Coven, and probably all sorts of nests, if I had the inclination to look, but I work on the principle that they don't disturb me, so I respect their privacy too. Birds are fascinating. When they trust you, if they want you to come and see something, they fly up and down to attract your attention, then lead you to whatever it is.

The torrential rain yesterday has wrecked the first flush of tulips, but, luckily, I plan my planting for a long season and the later ones are about to open up. They're my favourites, parrot ones. They have frilly edges to their petals.

Everywhere is greener than I think I've ever seen it.

And I have developed a new obsession for tropical plants. There's nothing quite so nice as home-grown lemon in a G&T (the one in the picture will be getting the chop soon). Except, perhaps, home-grown lime, but I've only just bought the lime, to go with the rest of the citrus grove bought last year (well, OK, slight exaggeration there, the lemon and the orange trees). I've also bought a pineapple tree, complete with baby pineapple, a bird of paradise plant, another smaller tree fern (to go with the big one I bought last year), a fishbone tree fern, and a couple of other palms and other things that weren't named but look jungly. Luckily, as ever, I have my Value Sources, because had I bought that lot in a garden centre it would have been well over £300. Now, all we have to do is redesign part of the garden to fit them all in.

Wordsworth

Rough

My parents kept me from children who were rough
Who threw words like stones and who worn torn clothes.
Their thighs showed through rags. They ran in the street
And climbed cliffs and stripped by the country streams.

I feared more than tigers their muscles like iron
Their jerking hands and their knees tight on my arms.
I feared the salt coarse pointing of those boys
Who copied my lisp behind me on the road.

They were lithe, they sprang out behind hedges
Like dogs to bark at my world. They threw mud
While I looked the other way, pretending to smile.
I longed to forgive them, but they never smiled.

Stephen Spender (1909-1995)

I remember winning a poetry reading competition at secondary school reading this. Probably because I never understood how some people feel the need to bully others because they are "different", and feel passionately, and so can speak passionately, about things.

It's appropriate at the moment.
Some people will know to what I refer.

I don't really feel like writing anything else.

Thought for the day

I do not want the peace which passeth understanding, I want the understanding which bringeth peace.

- Helen Keller

Thought for the day

The only way I will miss what I don't have is to know that I don't have it.

That's the power of advertising, isn't it? What would life be like if we started with what we need - not what's out there creating needs?

The rather late 49th Make Blue Witch Laugh Award

I didn't post a MBWLA yesterday, because I only had one contender, and I wasn't totally sure that it would be taken in the spirit in which it was meant...

However, a recent discovery convinces me that it might be OK after all, so, here goes...

mike's been chronicling his every move this week (well, on and off, in between being horrendously ill). If you've not been reading, pop off and read this first (or you won't understand what made me laugh).

So, a certain position was apparent in "Window Into My World: The Troubled Diva Pointlessly Detailed Journal Theme Week."

Alan wickedly took it one step further:

Seven o'clock... Spend an hour tapping away on the laptop, chronicling minutae of existence. K vainly tries to distract me with text messages. "Nkd bloke in street doing push-ups. Snail not dead yet.", but I tap on undeterred. The sun is setting, a glorious blood-orange glow is cast on the wall behind me, dappled through the gently waving leaves of the ancient ash tree that stands guarding the back wall of the garden. Surely there can be no greater bliss than this - a man, a laptop, and somewhere, a boyfriend torturing snails in an effort to get attention...

I guess anyone with a non-blogging partner might identify with that one :)

Now, just now, I was reading mike's latest entry, and what should I spy in the comments under it, but a plea for him to get off-line from his partner, K, who'd (presumably) read Alan's rewrite, but was now vying for attention with the blog, for real:

TD call home!

I'm stuck in Nottingham and have tried every other means of making contact. You are clearly on line, so you might pick this up. If so, please call.

And no readers, this is not an alternative to torturing snails, I just want to get back to the village.

K

So, 2 points to Alan, and 1 point to K, for creative problem-solving. And I hope K's got back OK.

Is your love in vain?

"I know what you like doing in bed!" announced Mr BW this morning as he snuggled closer while I was pretending to be asleep, hoping to get away with another half hour or so of zzzzzs before being put to work in the garden. "Oh good," thought I, "so the last 11 years, 4 months and 5 days haven't been in vain then?"

"I do!" he repeated, obviously aware that I wasn't as totally comatose as I was hoping he'd think I was. "Do you know what it is?" I sighed inwardly and thought, "No, and I'm really not in the mood, you know how tired I am at the moment."

"Well, I'll tell you - it's overheating!" he proclaimed triumphantly.

Tis true, I'm a Hot Witch in bed. Nothing I like more than being warm and cosy under a 2-layered 15 tog quilt.

I don't fit the criteria for this search that found me overnight though:
"40 plus fat blonde brown eyes woman lady."
Well, I fit two of the criteria (the first and last). And, although I may now be 20 pounds heavier than when I got married 10 years ago, I did lose 19 pounds in the 4 months before we got married, so by my reckoning, I've put on 1 pound in the last 10 years. Which probably isn't too bad, all things considered.

Plain language

From yesterday's Plain English Campaign weekly bulletin:

We have often written about our admiration and sympathy for the translators working for the various organisations in the European Union. Documents produced by a political and administrative system are often far from clear, and trying to convey the same meaning in another language is surely a challenge. In fact the European Commission's translators have their own informal campaign, 'Fight the Fog', which urges writers and speakers to be as clear as possible in the original language and avoid using too many similes and metaphors. We don't know how true the story is, but apparently a German commissioner's suggestion that a meeting was progressing at the pace of a hedgehog was once translated as "This meeting is slow, ponderous and full of pricks."

The difficulties are about to become even greater.

With the expansion of the European Union tomorrow (1 May), the list of official languages used by politicians and civil servants will rise from 11 to 20. This takes the number of potential combinations of languages to 190. In practice, the translators use a relay system to cover all possibilities. A speech in English may be dealt with first by a translator who speaks English and German, and then passed on by a second translator who speaks German and Swedish. The expansion led to one of the least-expected sentences ever to appear in the Guardian:

"If you know anybody who can translate from Maltese to Finnish," says [translation] head Karl-Johann Loennroth, "please let us know."