Blue Witch

Air rage

I have an idea.
Another of The BW Party type.

Aeroplanes which ban children.

Either completely, on particular designated 'adult-only' flights.

Or ones which have hermetically sealed, sound-proofed child containing compartments so the rest of us don't have to put up with crying, screaming, whinging and running up and down.

Or ones with a NNEB trained stewardess/child-tamer, unafraid to control brats when their parents either couldn't or wouldn't.

Even just keeping all the people with kids together in certain specified rows would be a start...

I know there would be a demand.

Paying extra to travel Premium Economy or Business doesn't preclude one's flight being ruined by small people... the babies are usually put in the front (bulkhead) rows of Economy, which on many planes is right behind these inflated-priced quarters.

I am just tired, tired, tired of people who have no respect for the rights of other travellers and seem to think their kids misbehaving is quite acceptable.

Of course it's not only in planes that many parents turn a blind eye to the inappropriate behaviour of their offspring, but in other places one can at least walk away.

Result!

At last, my spell has worked :)

I've been trying to convince any new blogpersonparent that I'd be a good Remote Witchy Godmother (they're much better than Fairy Godmothers, but then I would say that, wouldn't I?). Until now, very sensibly unfortunately no-one has been too enthusiastic :(

But now, Depthmarker Rob and Ann, deep in the heart of Texas have said yes :)

I am now the official Remote Witchy Godmother to Sean, born on Sunday (28th). And what's more, their grandson glowed blue in approval (and Rob assures me he didn't PhotoShop the picture)!

So now I have a blog dog and a blog baby, excellent :)

Rob's photo is much higher resolution than mine - pop over and see it and say hi and congratulations to them all.

Thought for the day

If it turns out that there is a God, I don't think that he's evil. But the worst that you can say about him is that basically he's an underachiever.

- Woody Allen

Thought for the day

Art, like morality, consists of drawing the line somewhere.

- G K Chesterton

At last, some summer

Most surprising, considering that it was a Bank Holiday weekend.
And we've been as busy as the little friend on the sunflower (which is one of many, all in autumnal hues, in the little grass garden under the D'OveCote).

Spot the caterpillar

While out collecting caterpillars to make pâté last night, I found this creature.

I'm not very good at identifying moths and butterflies from their larval stages. Even having consulted this page I still don't know what it is.

Can anyone help?

Countdown

With the untimely demise of Richard Whiteley back in June, the show's producers have now narrowed his succession down to either Des Lynham (62 year old sports presenter) or Paul Merton (48 year old comedian).

Given that the audience of Countdown (a TV words and numbers game, broadcast in the afternoon, for the foreign amongst you) is largely retired people and students, I reckon it could go either way at the auditions next week. I'm trying to decide who Carol would prefer working with.

Anyway - over to you:

Yes, it's really a picture of us

Now then, I could write about our visit to Framlingham Castle on Monday (the place with the twirly chimneys pictured below), or about the sta1ned gla55 workshop we did on Tuesday, or my trip to a wonderful wool shop (to get some more wool to fe1t) and to the William Morris Gallery on Wednesday, or about session 2 of my orienta1 pa1nt1ng course yesterday.

Or, inspired by the prospect of seeing The Stranglers in December, I could post a picture of The BWs do punk.

No contest is there?

And, in case you're worried, we've had some plastic surgery since these pics were taken, so our faces look a bit more normal these days ;)

Sadly I don't have any photos of the first time around (although I believe that some do exist, and I've been promised copies for years, but, even in this digital age, they've not yet materialised).

These were taken nearly 5 years ago, at a friend's 1970s Significant Birthday Party.

And a most excellent night it was too.

My hair was blue (although it hasn't come out well on the photo), I had my authentic 1978 trademark blue tears on my right cheek, tons of eye-liner, black nails and bright red lipstick, and Mr BW's t-shirt had 'DESTROY' written across the front in blood. Well, OK, perhaps not in real blood. And people really thought that we'd stuck safety pins through our faces and ears. Which we hadn't.

Thought for the day

What people don't understand is when punk started it was so innocent and not aware of being looked at or being a phenomenon and that's what everyone gets wrong. You can't consciously create something that's important, it's a combination of chemistry, conditions, the environment, everything.

- Siouxsie Sioux

Witchy is a punk rocker

Finally managed to get tickets to see The Stranglers at The Shepherd's Bush Empire in early December a bit earlier (thought I'd missed them after they seemed to sell out almost instantly when they went on sale last Friday). Now I'm happy :)

Them was the days.

May even wear my black bin liner, eye liner, and a few safety pins. And my trademark blue tears.

See you there?

Thought for the day

Wealth is the number of things one can do without.

- Feodor Dostoyevsky

Sunset

It had been pouring with rain since lunchtime. I got soaked picking veg for dinner. The Coven Weather Station was saying it was '93% wet' (nearly as accurate as the Met Office then) and 15.9 degrees. "What has to happen for it to say 100% wet when it's pissing down?" I asked Mr BW. "You probably need to submerse the sensor," he replied.

Then around 7.15pm, it began to clear on the western horizon, and the sun appeared, dropping rapidly, despite there being black clouds and rain overhead. The sky then did weird things with light for the next hour. In ten years here I don't think we've ever seen it quite like it was tonight. Must be an omen...


(I've done nothing to the pics other than crop them a bit and considerably reduce them in size)

Talk just got cheaper

Ain't no smoke without fire

Thought for the day

Every time you spend money, you're casting a vote for the kind of world you want.

- Anna Lappe

I saw two bees go sailing by...

We made them we did.

Today.

And soon we're going to make 3 new panels for our front door, because we've run out of sensible projects for The Coven, so we're starting on arty ones.

Mr BW says I've got to get you to guess who made witch which.

The first picture is the pattern and the cut glass shapes. The second shows the glass pieces after they have been bound with copper foil in preparation for soldering.

Going up

I saw diesel at 99.9 pence per litre yesterday.

The government are doing jolly well out of all the extra tax revenue, aren't they? If we had any realistic choice out here but to use car transport, we would...

Thought for the day

From the moment I picked up your book until I laid it down, I was convulsed with laughter. Some day I intend reading it.

- Groucho Marx

Paint and Talk Duck

Well, Mr BW has been learning Duck for the past academic year, so I decided to have a go at painting in an eastern fashion. The idea being that, come The Red World, he'll be able to communicate verbally with them, and I'll do the non-verbal bit and enthrall them with my understanding of their art.

It's a two sessions of 5 hours course, run very cheaply by a local community association. It's the same series of summer schools as the fe1t making I did a couple of weeks ago (btw, I hope you're all saving your pet hair for me to fe1t) - or, as Cleaner BW calls the days, "playschemes for adults".

Anyway, last Thursday we learnt four of the basic forms of 0rienta1 Bru5hw0rk. This is 'bamboo'. I'm not going to go into it here because I don't want Google exposing me to the other class members (several of whom are keen internet users) before the second session this Thursday, but there's a few more details here, for anyone who is interested.

The brushes, inks, and techniques are very different to Western art. Each mark has to be completed in one stroke, and exact replication of the works of great masters appears to be what beginning artists aspire to. Quite unlike the individuality and experimentation I am used to.

We used black ink only (this has to be prepared, while meditating, by rubbing a solid ink5stick, about the size of a pack of chewing gum, with water, on a special ink5stone), and the paper is A2 size.

Anyway, to go with the bamboo, Mr BW has provided a Beginner's Guide to Duck:

How to Speak Duck in 5 minutes
(apparently it needs to be read aloud, although I managed without - I wouldn't advise the former if you're at work ;))

1) That's not right - Sum Ting Wong

2) Are you harbouring a fugitive - Hu Yu Hai Ding

3) See me ASAP - Kum Hia

4) Stupid Man - Dum Fuk

5) Small Horse - Tai Ni Po Ni

6) Did you go to the beach - Wai Yu So Tan

7) I bumped the coffee table - Ai Bang Mai Fa Kin Ni

8) I think you need a face lift - Chin Tu Fat

9) It's Very dark in here - Wai So Dim

10) I Thought you were on a diet - Wai Yu Mun Ching

11) This is a tow away zone - No Pah King

12) Our meeting is scheduled for next week - Wai Yu Kum Nao

13) Staying out of sight - Lei Ying Lo

14) He's cleaning his automobile - Wa Shing Ka

15)Your body odor is offensive - Yu Stin Ki Pu

16) Great - Fa Kin Su Pah

And I'm sure you can think of some others...

Weekending

I went up the garden for some beans and came back with this lot. I love this time of year. There is just nothing that can beat the taste experience of home-grown fruit and veg. 10 seconds from ground/plant to plate. Only forget the plate.

Busy weekend, dealing with all the produce (picking it, preserving it, trying out new things - pickled runner beans anyone?), and extracting 480lbs of h0ney. Sticky business. Still, at least we found some willing helpers. If anyone wants to go on the waiting list for next year's slavery, let me know.

All nicely interspersed with a trip to Planarchy Towers to sample NiC's smuggled French cheese (me) - which was fabulous - and engage in a profiterole eating competition (Mr BW). However, Mr BW turned out to be a lightweight compared to Mrs Planarchy's brother, but then Brother Mrs Planarchy did have an advantage. And Mr BW was most upset to discover that NiC's banana is much bigger than his ;) A great evening, thanks to all the Planarchists. Including the guinea pigs.

We worked out that there hasn't been a sunny Saturday since the middle of July. 34 degrees on Wednesday, but below 20 again ever since. What is the planet coming to?

Tales from the Green Valley

Wonderful new programme on BBC2 last night at 7.30pm (first of 12 weekly parts).

A team of historians and archaelogists are trying to work a 17th century Welsh farm, as if, for a whole year. That is, as if the HSE hadn't been invented, because they are forbidden by today's regulations from living there. So, presumably, they live 1620s by day and consume 2005 by night.

Nevertheless, as I was half-watching while cooking, Mr BW was calling out to me:

"Ah! So an acre is the amount a man and an ox could plough in a day!"

"Ah! So bakeries developed from communal bread ovens, which, over time, became minded by one person, who became known as the baker."

I heard the plough-man saying "walk on" to his ox. Several times.

"Ah!" I said, "so that's the origin of the Liverpool FC song then? He'll never walk alone with his ox!"

"Erm, no BW, I don't think so..."

I must be ill. I just mentioned f**tball, didn't I?... and the other day I was making christmas baubles...

Don't close the post office

As mike says, JonnyB's musical plea to the powers that be just got better. The video has been released (can anyone tell me - did JonnyB ever manage to get Jeremy Vine to notice it as he was hoping when he first released the song?).

True brilliance :)

I helped my local Post Office stay open today. I bought a tax disc and 20 one pence stamps.

Update: and here are the new Royal Mail price prosposals. It seems that size does matter after all ;)

Tis very clever (not least because all bar one of the original selection it made for me were blue).
Well done to the creator.

Make your own here. (via)

The cost of money

It amuses me that the Royal Mint is apparently so poor that it's asking the good old public of this country to redesign the flip-side of our six lower-value coins rather than employ real designers (although, to be fair, this isn't a new state of affairs, as their website states: "For the greater part of the last 100 years United Kingdom coin designs have been obtained by competition, generally restricted to freelance artists and Royal Mint engravers, but occasionally thrown open to the general public").

The announcement of the competition to update our coins (that haven't had a face-lift since they were introduced in the Februray 1971 decimalisation of our currency) has, of course, prompted speculation that the Treasury has decided not to take Britain into the Euro, as the invitation to redesign had to be approved by chancellor Gordon Brown, as will the new coins themselves. Good, good, that's a step in the right direction. There may be a trial minting of the coins so people can see them, and introduction is planned by 2008.

The official Royal Mint site states:

The design brief gives would-be designers a ‘free hand’ but as heraldry has been an important element in the design of British coins for centuries, entrants may want to look at interpreting heraldry in an ‘imaginative and creative way’ for a modern coinage. Alternatively, the brief suggests that they might like to consider themes to represent Britain, such as flora or fauna, geographic features, social, political or cultural achievements or British institutions

Some of the ideas suggested by readers of The Times are:

• the London Underground,
• Concorde
• a D'Ove of peace
• a fish and chip supper
• the Christian cross
• the Islamic crescent moon and star (don't blame me, I'm only reporting what was suggeted ;))
• a couple of yobs dancing on a car bonnet
• an inscription for the 50p coin: “My other 50p was spent by Gordon.”

I'll go with the return to traditional designs, like Britannia, which was on the back of the old pennies I remember from when I was a Small Witch. Pennies were huge then, and the possession of even one, pressed into my Small Witchy Hand by my Grandpa as he bade us a fond farewell after a visit, made me feel rich.

I remember hours of fun, counting those old pennies, stacking them, sorting them by date, doing wax-crayon rubbings of them, playing tiddlywinks with them, polishing them with brasso... I'm utterly convinced that a lot of the reason that children today have no concept of money or its value is because they don't play with coins, and many of them aren't taught to save and budget through the medium of pocket money.

What would you like to see on the back of our new coins?

Thought for the day

When the oak is felled the whole forest echoes with its fall, but a hundred acorns are sown in silence by an unnoticed breeze.

- Thomas Carlyle

Down Memory Lane

Fascinating day yesterday re-visiting childhood Witchy haunts while Mr BW was busy allocating tasks to people at his new sub-office a mile away.

Nothing much had changed, except that all the trees everywhere had grown very much bigger. If ever there was a reason not to plant conifers in gardens, I saw it yesterday.

Several very strange co-incidences too. While re-exploring the woods behind the Original Coven, I met a lady walking her dog who turned out to have been one of the dinner ladies at my primary school. She was also the mum of one of Brother BW's little girlfriends, and I was just pointing out a house down the lane to her, saying, "That was my friend Wendy's house," when a woman came out and she said, "And that's Wendy's Mum!". The village post-office looked remarkably similar inside (and outside, come to that, which shows how tatty the facade now is), and the postmaster was the same man. He even remembered me from the three (maybe four) years that I delivered post at christmas when I was a student. Well... he called me Turquoise Witch at first, but he got Blue Witch on the second attempt. Not bad for twenty-odd years on I thought!

I took loads of pictures. This one isn't a great work of art, but it is a very significant place. Middle of picture, just off-centre right.

6pm Update: I'm shocked and horrifed at your dirty minds people (and even those of you who didn't put it, thought it, didn't you, eh?) ;) The true story about the significance of this place is now in the comments.

Thought for the day

When you hold resentment toward another, you are bound to that person or condition by an emotional link that is stronger than steel. Forgiveness is the only way to dissolve that link and get free.

- Catherine Ponder

Glut-tons

We're inundated. Totally inundated.

Courgettes, marrows (over-swollen courgettes that hid under leaves last time we were culling so that they could get big and serve us right (for what, I'm unsure, but I know that's why they did it)), cucumbers.

I stuffed one for tea tonight, and there'll be marrow and ginger jam at the weekend, but it's all terribly out of control. And that's before the squashes and pumpkins are ready.

I do wonder which spell went wrong... ;)

And then there are beans, about 12 different varieties, runner and French, climbing and dwarf, ranging from yellow to purple to green. It's taking 10 minutes every day just to pick them.

Not to mention (except that I'm going to) umpteen varieties of tomatoes, and lettuce and radishes and rocket and carrots and plums (3 different sorts) and apples and blackcurrants and raspberries, loganberries and tayberries, and blackberries and the odd late strawberry, and potatoes (nice ones, the sort that cost a pound a pound because it's not worth growing standard ones) and cabbages. And there are undoubtedly other things I've forgotten too.

Currently we can do breakfast, lunch and tea from the garden. Scrumdiddlyumptious.

Today's challenge (scroll down)

It's my two-thirds birthday today. Where are my presents?

I'm enjoying membership of the Witanagemot Club. It's widened my blog circle a bit (it's oh so easy to get blog-stale isn't it?). And I see that Mr D and Cyberevolution have joined us too. Don't mention it though dears, will you, everyone may want to run and join; and after all, you know what Groucho Marx said... ;)

When I read things like this, I get to thinking that I may have to re-start the MBWLA: I like Blue Witch's blog, makes me laugh ... don't know if I'm supposed to. Oh wonko. You'll work it out, eventually ;) (actually, come some time in September, I'm going to have a summer MBWLA round-up, as I do have a small file of funnies).

Well, I spent yesterday in a forest, and I'm spending today on the motorways. Yesterday I failed to be artistic as I couldn't manage to make 3D into 2D into 3D (the artists amongst you may know what I mean) and today I'm spending the day in a car as Mr BW has to go and visit his company's latest acquisition in order to indoctrinate them discuss ways in which they will be assimilated how the two companies can work together, and, as the company is based just a mile away from my childhood home, I shall be tagging along to spend the day down memory lane. Never go back, they say. Oh well. I also have a Witchy feeling that there is a stronger connection, but I'm not sure what it is, yet...

So, as discussed in the comments last night, the challenge for today is to work out which words my commenting system doesn't allow. I'll give you a hint: if it's not allowed, it will stop you from posting with the words "denied for questionable content". I've never programed it - it's learnt as it's gone along (ie as it's been subjected to spam attacks). Your starter for 10 - it doesn't allow c-a-s-i-n-o (but it will allow you to post it like that, rather than as 'casino'). So, try it out, and if you get "denied for questionable content", you'll know to re-post it with a hyphen between each leter as one of the words not allowed. And I don't know which words it's blocking, so I'm relying on you for the definitive list.

Thought for the day

I believe in getting into hot water; it keeps you clean.

- G K Chesterton

Throwaway communication

I was shocked, shocked, shocked, last week when someone I know told me that her friend's husband had left her, after 23 years of marriage, and had told her by text message.

I'm told by youngsters of my acquaintance that most dates are now made electronically (saves embarrassment apparently) and most relationships are ended with a simple "you're dumped" sent to their ex's phone (or is that "ur dmt"?)

Whilst many love instant messaging, I can't see the point. It sucks time. It can lead to confusion and misunderstanding. It's so much quicker, cheaper (if you use the right provider) and more intimate to use the phone to talk to someone.

Electronic communication is all too easy, isn't it? There's almost no effort involved, and, in the realm of personal relationships, it's very easy to walk away from something that might have been worth working at, had the depersonalised electronic option of removing the heart from the matter not been taken. Where's the courtesy and respect?

One of those "You know you're addicted to the internet when..." thingys that always amuses me is: "...you don't know the gender of your 3 best friends." When communicating electronically, it's easy to think you have some kind of meaningful relationship with someone that, if you met in person, you wouldn't have.

It seems to me that inter-personal relationships have become as disposable as the consumable items in our society. I don't think it's a good thing, and I don't see it changing any time soon.

Thought for the day

Do what you feel in your heart to be right - for you'll be criticised anyway. You'll be damned if you do, and damned if you don't.

- Eleanor Roosevelt

An Image of "Englishness"?

(for explanation, see below)

Come on England!

Why has England lost its identity?

Why has England lost its way?

What can you name that is uniquely and quintessentially English?

Why don't the majority of individual English people proclaim (or indeed, want to proclaim) their nationality with the same pride as people from other countries (including Scotland, Wales and Ireland)?

Heck, as a nation, we don't even celebrate our saint's day (I'll bet that 90+% of the population don't even know that St George's Day is the 23rd April), regularly sport our national emblem, or have an identifiable English national dress or English national anthem! Actually... come to think of it, why do we have a saint who wasn't actually English and who never lived here (is that where the problem started?)?!

Why are the English in England so afraid to proclaim their Englishness and stick up for their rights?

Why has the English flag (the red cross of St George) become synonymous with the 'chav' concept, or identified predominantly with football or extremists such as the BNP? (unlike any other nation I can think of)

Why do the Government (sic) and the authorites of this country continually pander to every minority whim? (eg Nottinghamshire police have just spent £2,000 so that all 4,000 of their officers can sport green ribbons in support of the Muslim community who apparently feel stigmatised. God help us all.)

Why am I not allowed to write 'English' on forms, and why if I use the term 'English-British' if/when the officially talked-about (or rapidly un-talked about depending on the source you read) double-barrelled 'British' terms are introduced am I likely to be considered racist?

Why can a person from an ethnic minority say any derogatory thing they like to me, but if I reply in kind they have the full force of the law on their side, whereas I have no redress?

Maybe its something to do with Empire. Guilt for the past. Or maybe English people are scared that to proclaim their unique Englishness will be perceived as racist or as politically incorrect. I don't know. It's all I can think of.

Anyway, I'm uniting with the small but growing number of bloggers who are tired of being second class citizens on our own island (although some of them don't actually live here anyway I note with interest... ;)). Most of them seem to be more radical than me, and more inclined to make their dissatisfaction with things as they are in this country the subject of their blogs. I'm sure we have many differences in views. But we have one uniting belief - England should have its own Parliament.

Amongst the people I regularly meet in person, I'm almost the most moderate nationalist I know. Amongst the people in this little corner of blogland, I perceive that I am the most radical. It's nice to know that there are others around blogland who feel as I do. I'm all for equality and respect, but it's got to be balanced. It's got to work both ways. Which, IMHO, it patently isn't in these present times.

If you want to join, go here and email Toque who's co-ordinating it.

Just desserts

"BW, much as I love your blog, I have noticed that there have been rather a lot of dead things pictured just recently. Is there any reason for this?"

Dear Reader, thank you for your email. The simple answer is, I think, that things die, so I take photos of them. My camera is my diary. Things die in my life, so I take pcitures of them. And I think they're quite educational, so sometimes I post them. I take photos at funerals too. Because most people don't. Best Friend BW says that one of her most cherished pictures is a photo I took at her first husband's funeral. Without it, she says, she would have no recollection of the day at all.

I don't understand why some people find dead things so horrific and why it's so taboo to take photos at funerals. After all, death is the only certainty in life.

But, responding to the point made, as my reader appears not to like my pictures of dead D'Oves, dead chick foetuses, dead sparrows, dead rabbits etc etc (I could go and and I could provide links, but I won't), here instead is a picture of a dessert. And a recipe.

Only the recipe isn't the recipe for the dessert pictured, because only over my dead body will the secret Witchy recipe for chocolate meringue gateau ever be divulged. So the recipe is for lime chesecake . Very quick and easy to make, very Value, and very unfull of additives. Unlike the stuff you buy in cardboard packages. And it uses lime juice to turn the cream into home-made cheese, in an old-fashioned way.

Thought for the day

Truth disappears with the telling of it.

- Lawrence Durrell

When invariably isn't

Oldest Friend Mr BW and his family are coming round later. For a BBQ. We always leave it until the middle of August to have our half of the twice-yearly get-together as the weather is invariably good, and it's nice to sit outside, drinking Pimms, putting the world to rights, and watching the sun set.

This year it's 17 degrees, icily windy, and cloudy. Mr BW is still telling me that he fully intends to carry on with the original plan. That being the case, I'm going to be donning my thermals and serving hot chocolate (Green & Black's, of course) rather than Pimms, and I'm going to be steaming the cabbage and carrots rather than serving them as coleslaw.

Oldest Friend Mr BW now heads up one of the country's most exclusive banks. I have been forbidden from asking if they do 0% credit cards and, if so, whether I can have one with a £40K credit limit, at 0%, for the next 5 years (which would more-than see the mortgage paid off). It would save me a hell of a lot of stoozing applications and juggling :)

Tomorrow I'll have to have another rant about the state of the country because I seem to have signed up to the new Witanagemot Club. That'll be fun. I look forward to seeing how many readers I can lose this time ;)

Once upon a time there were 8 eggs

Harriet Hen sat patiently on them for 10 days. One broke. Then there were 7.

She continued to sit on them. 21 days came and went. They still didn't hatch.

On day 25 (today) we had an autopsy. If you can call digging a hole in the orchard, chopping the eggs open with a spade, and unscrabbling the packed-in contents, an autopsy...

The 3 La Fleche eggs weren't fertile. 3 of the 4 silkie eggs were. I don't know why they stopped developing a few days before they were due to hatch.

It was sad.

Hot Question

Is it me getting old or do the summers get worse in this country every year?

I don't remember it ever raining or being cloudy in the summer holidays when I was a Small Witch. The average daytime temperature here this week has been about 20 degrees... and it's been damn cold in the mornings and evenings.

That's not what I call August.

Value Tip

Did you know that you are now legally entitled to compensation if your flight is delayed?

The new law relating to compensation for delayed air travel.

Print it out and keep it with your passport and E111 (you did know that European reciprocal health-care forms issued before the beginning of this year are no longer valid, didn't you? New ones are available from major Post Offices - using this form - and there will be a credit-card style replacement from next year - which they will send out automatically if you tick the right box on the form).

However... as 'strikes' appear to be one of the get-out-of-paying-up clauses, this legistlation appears to be about as effective as most of the others regulations that ensue from the EU...

Name that lyric (no Googling!)

But BEA's on strike, there's no planes flying.
I can rent a motorbike, at least I'm trying.
We could go on the hovercraft accross the wat-er.
They'll think I'm your dad and you're my daugh-ter.

What a pathetic shower BA are.

Unofficial strikes and the management run and hide.
A colleague of Mr BW's was meant to be flying to the US yesterday afternoon. In the morning he got an email saying there'd be no catering. When he checked in, he was given £30 in airport food vouchers and told to buy his own refreshments for the flight.

An American woman interviewed by BBC Breakfast this morning explained how she'd spent 4 hours checking in, then sat on a plane for 6 hours, before being told to get off, then queuing some more, with no information, and eventually finding a hotel for the night. The interviewer asked whether she was satisfied with the way things were being handled by BA and she said, "I'm keeping an open mind, it's a difficult situation." Some people have the patience of saints and no concept of what constitutes an acceptable level of customer service.

And, I note that, yet again, many of the info line numbers are 0870- 10p a minute numbers (with 2p of that going to the line owner). Companies deliberately profiteering out of difficult situations. Again. *sighs*

Got that lyric yet? (no Googling or there will be spells!)

Thought for the day

Nothing worse could happen to one than to be completely understood.

- Carl Jung

Premature festivities

I am reliably informed that Harrods opened their christmas Department last Monday, so, in an attempt to keep up with overtake the Smythe-Jones's, I've been off making my own baubles today.

Ha! Bet you never thought you'd see this here. I don't think I've had a knock on the head recently either.

I've decided to sell them. I made 3 in 5 hours, so I think £100 each sounds reasonable. They are extremely well made (even better made than the tutor's example ones everyone said), and I'll even throw in a certificate of authenticity, "Made by Witchy Hand". Very talon-ted I am they all said. Don't all rush at once ;)

Winter is a-coming in

It's definitely feeling very autumnal in the late evenings and early mornings here at The Coven. The light's moved into its 'end of summer' hues and tones too.

The chicks still haven't hatched, and any that might have been about to are now suffering from SCS (Shaken Chick Syndrome) after Mr BW examined the eggs last night. He's got money on them hatching today. I've got money on making another trip to get some more tomorrow, as Harriet Hen shows no sign of giving up on her dream of motherhood that easily.

As if in response to the onset of winter, I've been singing Little Donkey for the past few days, and today I'm going on a christmas bauble making course. It seemed a good idea when I signed up for it a couple of months ago. Maybe I could use the unhatched eggs as the centres?

Thought for the day

I like long walks, especially when they are taken by people who annoy me.

- Noel Coward

Most adverts are boring.

These are slightly different.

The way of the web

Lots of things I could write about today, but I haven't the time or inclination. It's a lovely day outside and I've been a Good Witch and got all my work done, so I'm off to make the most of it :)

I'll just leave you with the thought that Tim Berners-Lee, inventor of the WWW, considers blogging to be more of what he had in mind when he started it than the other stuff. (via)

(I love the way TBL construes sifting the good from the bad - about half way down that link - and I suspect he doesn't buy the concept of blogging 'A listers', other such self-aggrandisement, and attempts by some to mould and constrain its emergent form (through artifical categorisation) any more than I do)

Just call me angel of the morning

Thought for the day

Don't cross the stream to find water.

- Norwegian Proverb

A decade of habitation

Ooops, nearly forgot, having been remembering it for weeks, today is our 10th anniversary of moving to The Coven!

It seems incredible that we have been here this long.

And that it is now worth 3.5 times what we originally paid for it.

Granted, we have done a lot of work on it, mostly ourselves (as there is no other way in the world that we could ever afford to have done what we have to it), and we have both developed a lot of very useful skills along the way, but it is also very sobering to consider that, had we not over-stretched ourselves and given up lots of luxuries (that some people would consider 'essentials') for several years, in order to reach for our dream, 10 years ago, we certainly wouldn't ever be able to afford it now. Even if I went back to working full-time.

And that last ridiculously long and unnecessarily complex sentence is brought to you without the benefit/excuse of the champagne we are about to drink ;)

PS No sign of cracks in the eggs yet.

*eggcited*

Yesterday I asked Mr BW to pick up some more food for the assorted feathered familiars.

"I'd like some chick crumbs, please," he said.

"How old are they?" asked the assistant in the feed mill.
"Erm, they're eggs," he admitted.

There's nothing like being prepared.
You see, today is Hatching Day.
Or it might be tomorrow.
We're not sure.
It depends whether it's 'after 21 days' (tomorrow), or 'on day 21' (today).

Before Mr BW flew off to work this morning we went to check on them. He threw Harriet Hen off her nest and carefully picked up a couple of the 7 remaining eggs (remember, one broke after 10 days when Harriet sat down too heavily) and held them to his ear.

"What are you doing?" I enquired.
"I'm listening for scratching noises, to see if they're trying to get out," he replied.
The thing is... I think he was serious...

We've not hatched chicks before. In fact, the youngest hens we've had were 12 week olds. When I was at primary school, we hatched chicks in an incubator, but that was, like, eons ago, and I have no real recollection of anything other than them being fluffy and cute.

I could look it up on t'inter, but I'll just wait and see. Much more fun.

I just hope I don't go to check on them just as one hatches as it might imprint on me and follow me around forever, thinking I'm its mum.

I suspect we're in for a sharp learning curve...

Thought for the day

Many are destined to reason wrongly; others, not to reason at all; and others, to persecute those who do reason.

- François-Marie Arouet de Voltaire

It's no good...

... the rocks are calling me.

Need. To. Go. Back.

Thinking damages your health

It doesn’t kill you. It’s probably not physically dangerous. But it’s still very bad for you. It’s pointless, and torments you on a daily basis.

Binge thinking. Over-analysis. Morbid meditation.

Excellent post by Croila.
Go and read it.

And I'd extrapolate her penultimate paragraph about the reasons behind 'binge-thinking' to binge-anything.

Thought for the day

Just because the message may never be received does not mean it is not worth sending.

- Segaki

Overstock situation

But what can we do?

I know!

*does spell*

*waits patiently*

Here's one I made yesterday

This isn't actually a very good picture, but I'm a Busy Witch, so it will have to be good enough. The finished fabric is a 19" fe1t square that I'm going to make into a cushion cover for the summerhouse, which is furnished in the sort-of dark green background colour (except that it's really darker green than this suggests - the flash seems to have changed the colour somehow, which it doesn't normally, if that makes sense, or it may have been the contrast with the bright green old towel it's sitting on).

So, this project started with raw, dyed, wool like this, which was carefully teased out and laid in overlapping handfuls, on a large sheet of bubble wrap, placed on an old towel. How I got through the day without popping all (indeed, any of) the bubbles I still don't know.

When one layer of tufts had been put down (picture below), another layer was built on top, but this time with the tufts laying in the opposite direction. A piece of fine net (think ballet tutu material) was then placed over the top, and the whole lot had 3 large spongefuls of water squeezed onto it and gently massaged in. Next, some olive oil soap was rubbed on, and the whole lot was massaged some more.

Finally, the net was carefully peeled off, and the matted wool bed was carefully rolled up in the bubble wrap (think ready-rolled puff pastry) and pounded, turned and squeezed for about half an hour.

Actually, this design was a bit more complicated as it was done in two stages (unlike the fishy below that was all built up in one go), with the multi-coloured felt for the rectangles being made first, up to the 'remove the net' stage, then I cut the rectangles out, and put them onto another bed of dark green tufts, before re-netting and re-fe1ting the lot again.

I was absolutely fascinated by how easy it is to turn wool into fe1t. Simply put, fe1t is matted wool. Wool becomes fe1t when it is subjected to moisture, heat, and pressure. Fe1ting is a very ancient craft, and pre-dates spinning and weaving, something I'd never really thought about before yesterday.

I hope that's clearer than mud, but as no doubt no-one will wanting to try this at home, it doesn't matter, does it? I enjoyed myself anyway :)

And I'm eyeing up the Ginger Familiar as a good source of future raw material...

Thought for the day

Kill one man, and you are a murderer. Kill millions of men, and you are a conqueror. Kill them all, and you are a god.

- Jean Rostand

I made fuzzy felt

See, I wasn't joking :)

I made a few bits of old dyed sheep into this 10" square piece of fabric. And there's a better one too (more abstract and more tasteful colours), only that has to wait until tomorrow.

It's a fuzzy felt day today!

Thought for the day

I didn't negotiate, I didn't do a deal. If you want progress, you ain't going to get it if you don't have talks.

- Mo Mowlam

Is this the way to do it?

I was in my favourite Value supermarket earlier (I'm not going to name it because you all know which it is by now, and Google doesn't need to know), and, just as the cashier was starting to scan my goods, two uniformed policewomen, and a plain clothes female officer came out of the staff-side door, with one of the long-standing cashiers who I know to say hello to.

"We'll be in touch then," said one of the WPCs, "and do take good note of what we've said." They strode off importantly.

I was rather confused, and at first wondered what they'd done with the shoplifter. The cashier I know then came over to the till where I was, shaking her head and looking very worried. The other cashier gave her a knowing look.

"Bad day?" I enquired. She glanced at me, recognised me, and exhaled sharply. "How old do you think that girl was?" she asked. "Girl?" I echoed, puzzled. "Yes, the one with the policewomen." "Girl?" I repeated again. "I only saw three of them, I didn't see a girl." "No, not the two in uniform, the other one." "Their boss?" I suggested. The cashiers looked at me, paused for a long second, then glanced at each other. "So, how old was she?" the one serving me asked. I thought hard. She'd been slightly taller than me, so around five foot ten or eleven, and well built, without being obviously fat - maybe 13 or 14 stone. And she had presence, I'd noticed that, from twenty feet away. "Ummm... 25 - maybe a bit older," I concluded.

"She was 17, and I've just been done for selling a bottle of sparkling wine to a minor," I was informed.

It seems the police in my county are stooping to the very lowest levels to tackle the problem of under-age drinking. They are running sneaky undercover operations, in the sort of shops where you rarely see teenagers, let alone teenagers doing shopping, to make it look, from the statistics, as if they are actively doing something about a serious problem.

I am appalled, and I am wondering what I am going to do about it.

That about sums it up

I was feeling rather disillusioned about a few things sort-of blog-related last night, when, clicking around, I discovered this quiz:

Your Blogging Type is Logical and Principled

You like to voice your well thought out opinions on your blog. And if someone doesn't like what you write, you really don't care! Serious and blunt, sometimes people take your blog the wrong way. But you're a true and loyal friend to those who truly get you.

Thought for the day

When a thing is funny, search it carefully for a hidden truth.

- George Bernard Shaw

Getting Value from BT

As regular readers will know, I have big issues with BT's pricing structures. Not least because, in this area, we have no choice but to pay them for line rental, and that went up - £12 a year for each line - recently when they manipulated their packages to exploit those of us who use cheaper carriers for making calls (eg 18866 - just 2p per call to a geographic landline, at any time, no matter how long you are on the phone).

I've long had a phone capable of displaying the number of the person calling, but was not prepared to pay BT £1.75 a month for each line (£42 a year in total) to get Caller Display as a BT Select Service.

The new(ish) BT Privacy At Home Service now allows you to get free caller display, and it will automatically register you with the telephone preference service (something I've long-promoted on here to stop unwanted sales calls).

Go on, register now (you just need your phone number and the account number from your bill), get your money's worth...

I know that at least one of my readers has Caller Display - I wonder if BT has told him that it's now available for free? I doubt it...

(Thanks to Brian for that tip)

We plough the fields

While the majority of people in this country seem to be caught up in the rat race and pursuing the latest trapping of consumeristic materialism, here at The Coven, we thank our lucky stars for the perspective and balance that is right outside our window 365 days a year.

Nature is a great reminder that, at the end of the day, it's all ashes to ashes and dust to dust, and one can make one's journey through to that eventual end as easy, or tortuous, as one chooses.

If you're out of touch with nature, you're undoubtedly out of touch with yourself.

Thought for the day

The power of accurate observation is commonly called cynicism by those who have not got it.

- George Bernard Shaw

Something to think about

Well, TV tonight, the second of the three part New Al'Qaeda programme (9pm BBC2), and the second part of Supermarket Secrets (9pm, C4).

I'm going to chop wood.
Not with an axe though.

Hard to believe, but true

We were at a Golden Wedding celebration over the weekend.
With encouragement from me, the happy couple brought out their wedding album. One lady, who'd known them for many years, piped up with, "Lovely pictures, but tell me, what year was it that you got married?" There was general laughter. Another retired lady said, "I could work it out... except that don't know what sum to do." "Try 05 take away 50," I said, helpfully. "No, that still doesn't help," came the reply. And I'm always hearing people of that generation bemoaning the standards of numeracy in schools today.

Hairdresser BW and her boyfriend have just come back from a week's coach holiday to Germany. I tried very hard not to shudder and exclaim as she told me that earlier. But, each to his/her own :) As might be expected, the majority of the 45 people on the holiday were OAPs, but there were 3 non-British passport holding younger people (two Israelis and one Turk), and an old dear who had forgotten her passport, but didn't realise until the coach was almost at Dover (and was told to, 'Be quiet and you'll probably get away with it!' by the courier). Are you as surprised as Hairdreser BW was (and I am) that neither when leaving nor when re-entering the country did a passport officer get onto the coach and inspect passports individually? Hairdresser BW said they just took one look at the coach, saw a load of white, older, people and waved them through. Unbelievable at any time, but particularly in the current climate.

Thought for the day

Be not so bigoted to any custom as to worship it at the expense of truth.

- Johann Georg von Zimmermann