A Breath too Far.

So CPR now is breathless again, compressing the chest to the beat of Staying Alive is in and the kiss of life is out!

Now back in the 60’s when I went to St. John’s Ambulance we were taught to resuscitate people by pushing down on the lungs and raising the arms. This was done whilst the “victim” was lying face down with head to the side and hands under face, elbows out to the side, pretty much a standard sun-bathing pose!

 

Things change all the time as our knowledge and beliefs move, sometimes for the better and sometimes not. We have superseded pounds and ounces, yards, feet and inches although in my memory the inch was still the measurement back in the 50’s and early 60’s. Of course for me it still is the measurement of choice.

So I was startled to hear one of the characters in “Meet the Midwife” measuring in centimetres!!!!

I am Legend

Just a quick note to be clear I am not that ego-centric, my beloved, who is even less adept on the old interweb than me, upon reading my blog thought it a good idea to be a follower and managed to sign me up as a follower of myself !!!!

Words are wind.

Beatle and The Shrimp.

Due to the wondrous invention of Television, aka Goggle Box, (because we sit and stare at it) or Mad Relation (because it carries on chatting away whether you are taking notice of it or not) and it’s marriage to the web, you can now watch what you want pretty much when you want. So this week I have caught up with a bit of nostalgia.

When I was young, and on the occasions when we had a T.V in the house, my parents would love to watch a half hour programme called “All our Yesterdays”, it was about the old days and the war, as a child I found it excruciatingly boring, if my parents were alive today I’m sure they would love the fact that there is now a whole channel filled with such programmes.

However, now I am older, I find myself increasingly drawn to the programmes about the 60’s and thus it was this week that I saw the programme about the Beatles and their first trip to the States and the drama production about David Bailey and Jean Shrimpton. The Beatles film was original footage so the clothes, fixtures and fittings, equipment was authentic and the film was a real reminder of just how good they were back in the day when it was just mics and amps.

The Bailey/Shrimpton programme was a modern production but very well done, I thought, and extremely evocative of the time. Now that we have instant digital photography, so that you can see immediately if a shot has worked or not, a plethora of computer programmes to improve enhance and re-work the picture, it was a reminder of how things were back in the day. I’m not saying photography is no longer an art form but it is different now and especially the vision in those days because until the negs were developed and the rough prints made you never knew for sure how it would turn out.

My Dad was an amateur photographer most of his life and I remember the excitement as a child of helping bring the pictures to life. Our bathroom became his darkroom, with blackout curtains at the windows a long wooden shelf covering the whole bath and a special reddish light that wouldn’t damage the photos. It was totally claustrophobic and the air heavy with chemicals, health and safety wasn’t in it, and my Mum would ration how long I could be in there, but Dad would conspire with me for just a bit longer, just a few more prints. As the door couldn’t be opened until the process was complete and the photographs set we had to tell Mum, just a bit longer can’t let the light in yet!

Thinking back on it probably my favourite bit was watching the photos appear as if by magic but I enjoyed doing all of it. As far as I can remember once the room was sealed up the film was removed from the camera and wound into a large cylindrical piece of equipment to develop the negative, I don’t remember how long it took but I remember turning the handle on the drum. Once we had the negatives they would go into the projector a rather big bulbous affair that would make the picture appear on the base. The magic of this bit was that you blow up the picture to make it big or keep it small, a lot depended on what photographic paper my Dad had been able to get and what he wanted to print up. Once the picture was exposed onto the paper it was time for the magic chemical, mustn’t touch except with tongs, as the paper soaked in the shallow tray the picture would gradually appear as if by magic and then it would be rinsed and hung up to dry. A truly captivating experience as well as learning a bit of hands on science from my Dad.

Oh and tonight it’s “Meet the Midwife” another bit of history!!!

The Time of the Screw.

Sorry that I haven’t been in touch for a few days, I have a couple of friends the Ayetease brothers, now Arthur is pretty much a constant companion, especially in winter, but his brother Cynus is fortunately a rarer visitor but has made his presence felt with a force this week, even preventing my attendance at work, luckily he is taking his leave now and hopefully will not return for a long while!

Today, I wanna tell you a story, who remembers Max Bygraves?

Anyway, as you know there is a new arrival imminent, so I was assisting proceedings by helping to prepare the Moses Basket. Now the hood of said basket is attached with plastic screws one of which snapped as the hood was being reattached. Oh bother! I said, or something very similar, and the hunt was on for a replacement.

Now some people say I am a hoarder, some people say if you haven’t used something for a couple of years you never will and that I should throw things away!

I, however, take the view that you never know when something will come in useful, so off to the garage I went in search of the spare plastic screw that I remembered keeping from my son’s highchair about 25 years ago.

It fitted perfectly and was still as good as new!!!!!

You know nothing Jon Snow.

See You Tonight Satellite!

The new Stargazing series with Brian Cox reminded me of my first real memory of the fascination with the night sky. As a young child it was always exciting to be out at night time when it was dark, principally of course because it usually meant that you were either up past your proscribed bed time or that at the very least the evening routine was, if not totally abandoned, then significantly altered to make it an event to be remembered.

When I was 7 the Russian’s launched the first artificial satellite, Sputnik 1, into Earth’s orbit, now I don’t really remember what all my real scientific understanding of space was at that time except that I knew that stars were really large but a long, long, way away, I definitely knew that it was really big out there and that there were other planets and other people and that one day we would travel in space ships to the stars and that I really wanted to go.

The reason for my enthusiasm was of course my Dad who was himself very much a science fiction fan, and sci-fi books, mostly from the library, as we certainly couldn’t afford to buy books, would be around the house as well as things like “Amazing Stories”, “Astounding Stories” which my Dad was given  by a friend. Naturally the colour and appearance of these was attractive to me and by 7 I was already an avid reader of pretty much anything I could get hold of. My Mum and I would take a trip to the Library very regularly and unlike today I never needed to renew my books and would sometimes be hard pushed to find something new to read.

Anyway, on the night that Sputnik was due to pass overhead my Dad took me outside and we watched the sky together and whether my memory, of seeing it move across the sky, is real or a young child wish fulfilment doesn’t really matter. What does matter was that what my Dad gave me that night was an understanding of the historical significance of what was going on in the sky above us and the joy of sharing something so very special with him.

Thanks Dad!

Gran’ma’s Star Lights, episode V The Baby Strikes Back

I’s a little pudding, pudding, pooh,

And I ain’t been born very long.

I remember seeing a big round moon,

I remember hearing one sweet song.

When they took me down to the seaside fields,

Where I rolled and tumbled in the sun.

While me Daddy did the working,

Mummy watched me grow

And this is the song she sang.

Go to sleep my little pudding, pudding,

Mummy’s going to shush you if you don’t,

Slumber on the bosom of your darling Mummy J.C.,

Mummy’s going to shush you if you don’t.

Lu la lu, lu la lu la laddie,

Underneath the silver summer moon,

Hush-a-bye, don’t you cry,

Mummy’s little baby,

Mummy’s little pudding, pudding, pooh

The original version of this that I was taught would not be publicly acceptable now, when it was first introduced to me the first line was “I’s a little alla balla coo” the song went on to mention Daddy picking cotton. The person who taught it to me had had the song passed down through generations where some of the words had obviously got blurred with the passage of time and by being passed via the oral tradition rather than being written down. A bit like Chinese whispers, it never stays exactly how it starts.

I suspect that the original version was perhaps a song from Alabama and the coo a shortened version of an offensive word for someone of Black heritage.

That said it is a pretty little tune and this more appropriate reworking of the words hopefully will give it life for another generation.

The Mild Geese.

From where I live there are two possible routes to my Son and Daughter-in-Law’s house and ,depending on traffic flow, there is not a lot in it time wise. One route means urban driving for about half the time to get onto a 70mph road, the other is mostly dual carriageways either 40 or 50 mph with a short bit of urban driving at the other end, I tend to favour the second of these.

I was happily driving along the 50mph stretch of the route, just slowed as I approached a roundabout, when I saw traffic stationary at the exit I was taking, the road ahead of the stopped cars was clear, so I was a bit bemused (yes it doesn’t take a lot I know!) surely two cars could not have broken down simultaneously blocking both lanes.

No, it was not driver or car causing the delay, as I edged closer I could see the cause of the traffic hold up, there were five geese slowly walking across the carriageway in single file, heads held high and clearly in no hurry at all.

They definately had no concern about being in any imminent danger and I would have said they were oblivious to the traffic, except that I caught the eye of the last goose as the traffic began to move again and I swear he smirked at me!

Is this then wild goose jam!!

Gran’ma’s Star Lights, episode IV, A New Dream

Go to sleep my baby,

Close your pretty eyes.

Angels are above you,

Looking at you, darling, from the skies.

Great big moon is shining,

Stars begin to peep.

Now it’s time for Baby Pudding

To go to sleep.

May the Force be with you!

The Absent Minded Depressor.

Now I know everybody has a little giggle about the odd senior moment, but I have to say my friend Al does seem to be visiting me rather a lot lately! Mr Zymer called around again this morning when I was searching for a particular flannel in the airing cupboard. So let me tell you what happened.

I had dried a pile of washing in the tumbler yesterday, did you read about my new tumbler? I’m very pleased with it, OK yes, I know I’m a bit sad, but wait ‘til you hear the rest of this story!

Anyway back to the plot, the washing just needed a little more airing so a few bits I hung on the airer, and some other bits including the towel and flannel I put in the airing cupboard to finish off.

Fast forward to this morning, when I went to take the stuff from the airing cupboard, I folded the towel up but could not find the flannel and, as the airing cupboard was not its usual tidy self, I became convinced the flannel had got hidden in there, well it is a bit Narnia.

So, out the entire contents of the airing cupboard came, a quick clean, well might as well as it was empty, and after checking and refolding every towel in there and yes, I did know that some people think it is a problem that every towel has to be folded in the same way and stacked roll side outwards, for me however it has order and symmetry. Anyway I realised by this time that the said flannel was not to be found, mystery!

Still the cupboard looks great now, top shelf some airing space, hand towels and flannels, but not the missing one, middle shelf bath sheets, bottom shelf bath and pedestal mats, lovely.

So by this time I was fully convinced that the flannel had been abducted by aliens in the night, that being a better answer than that I was really losing the plot (well more than usual) and that Al Zymer was actually moving in with me.

Trying to be grown up, I resigned myself to the fact that the flannel would eventually turn up and moved on, well I may have gone back and stared blankly and appealingly at the airing cupboard a couple more times first.

Later as I was folding up the washing on the airer guess what I found?

Yep, the flannel was never in the airing cupboard, I had put it on the airer!

Still, I have the added benefit of a clean and tidy airing cupboard and my other friend O’Seedy is very pleased.

Dragon’s Tale

The latest instalment in the great epic is The Dance with Dragons and I couldn’t wait for my turn with the book so had to go and get it out of the Library.

It is the biggest and heaviest of all the books and I am so addicted that every spare minute is taken up with trying to get another chapter read. It is still twisting and turning and you just don’t know who is going to survive and who will form allegiances with whom!

If you haven’t already discovered it and you have a few months to spare start at the beginning with Game of Thrones (I started with it last summer) and then work your way through the whole saga.

And if nothing else lifting these mighty tomes certainly builds your biceps.

Gran’ma’s Nile Watch

She sailed away,

On a sunny, sunny day,

On the back of a crocodile.

You see, said she,

He’s as tame, as tame can be,

I’ll float him down the Nile.

The croc winked his eye,

As she waved bye, bye,

Wearing a great big smile.

At the end of the ride,

The lady was inside,

And the smile on the crocodile.

My Beautiful Laundry Pet.

This is the continuing story of White Goods World and the people who struggle to get a tumble drier back into their small provincial lives. O come on, somebody must remember Peyton Place, it was the first soap I ever watched, back in days of tiny black and white T.V. and before Dorothy Malone passed her conical underwear on to Madonna!

And talking of soap, soap powder, washing and drying and yes here we are back with the saga of the tumbler, today I give you “Tumble Down All Our Days” the season finale.

So the vouchers did not arrive, surprise, surprise, so on Friday I get on the phone to the complaints department, explain the whole sad story, my call may be recorded and will probably cost me £1 a minute, Oh joy!

Nice man explains that actually they have no way of knowing when the voucher was posted and in fact if it has been, as it doesn’t show on the system, all he can say is that the tumbler was condemned and vouchers assigned and he can verbally give me the codes over the phone so I can just go the store. Thank you, I won’t ask why the person could not have given out that information 3 days ago because I am paying premium rate for this call!

So off to the shop and finally a helpful man and lady sort it all out with the voucher code numbers and we can pick our new machine to take home, remember a tumbler should be for the life of it’s warranty not just for Christmas!

And bright and early this morning the new addition was delivered, well wrapped and packed, but I’m not counting my tumblers until it has done a full load successfully!!!

Oh and guess what came in the post at lunchtime, yes the vouchers, dated over a week ago!!

May your towels always be fluffy and your sheets static free.

Gran’ma’s Grand Design.

I will build a little house, with two chimneys tall.        I I

A big sloping roof       /\         and a garden wall.     ==  ==

Two big doors that will open wide        IIII IIII               >I I

And two tiny little windows we can peep inside.            O O

I will build a little table, big enough for two.                T

Two cosy armchairs, one for me and one for you.           h

Knock on the door      I>Ip     and walk right in      /\>/\>/\>/\

‘Cos my little house is shining like a bright new pin.    I I> II > I I     

·         I I                            hold hands up straight

·         /\                     make inverted V with hands

·         ==  ==              hold hands horizontal with middle fingers touching

·         IIII IIII  >I I    hold hands up straight but palms towards you, then gradually open

·         O O              make circles with thumb and forefinger and look through

·         T                      make T shape with hands

·         h                      hold left hand up straight, make right hand into fist and press to left palm

·         I>Ip                 hold left hand up straight, make right hand into fist and knock on left palm

·         /\>/\>/\>/\   make walking motion with forefinger and middle finger

·         I I> II > I I      make brushing/clapping motion with hands

Plastic Food.

Had a very nice evening with some close friends last night, we went to a fairly local restaurant that we had been to before, where the food is usually good and the place has a warm and comfortable if somewhat quirky ambience. It also serves a pleasant strawberry beer, not to everyone’s taste it is true, but to which I am quite partial!!!

So after our usual muck up over the time we were supposed to be there, we “meeted and greeted” each other and settled down for a few hours of gossip and laughter.

I never have any serious problems selecting what to drink, food however is another matter and despite the fact that a large portion of any menu tends to be instantly out of the running due to the fact I don’t eat anything with four legs, I am still always the last to choose my food.

Okay, so the real reason is that I am partial to nearly everything else that is on the menu and oscillate all the time between old favourites and trying something new that sounds interesting. Friends, however, know this failing well and wait ‘til I settle on one thing and quickly call the waitress before I can swing back to another of my multiple selections for the evening, otherwise I would still be choosing when it’s time to go home!

Anyhow, we are well settled into our chatting and hearty laughter and the food arrives, now this slows the conversation a bit and we have the usual giggles and pauses over people having their mouths crammed with food at the point at which they need to be dishing the dirt!

So, pretty much all running just like it always does, when one of my friends finds a small piece of plastic in her tortellini, now the restaurant were good about it and did not charge for the meal and offered apologies and it will not stop us from going there again. But it did put a bit of a dampener on us for a while and it certainly got me thinking, yeah that does happen occasionally!

Now clearly it was part of the packaging that the tortellini came from, I buy packages from the supermarket that look just like it, 2 packs for £2.50, and I have to say taste pretty much the same. So what leaves a bitter taste in my mouth is that it really reminded me that the cost of restaurant dining has little relationship to food, cost price of food probably much less than £2, menu price £10!!!

However I am not suggesting I will stop eating out, the restaurant industry provides a huge amount of people with a livelihood and we all have a duty to help support the economy, besides I have already arranged to go out for a meal Monday night!

Gran’ma’s Weather Report

        The wind is in the chimney,

        Blowing round the house,

        It ROARS like a lion

And squeaks like a mouse.

Keep dry and warm!

Damp all our Days.

I just may have mentioned, a couple of times before, the trials and tribulations of the tumble drier or lack thereof!

Well there is at last a possibility that our dripping, dank and damp days may soon decline, desist and depart.

After much chasing up it has been confirmed, by the man on the phone at Tumble Drier Headquarters, that the paperwork for the replacement tumbler is in the post, of course this could mean several different things:-

a)  that it is actually posted

b)  that it will be posted now they have been reminded

c)   that it will now be processed for posting

d)  that it is at least on the system

You may use any of your lifelines, ask the audience, 50-50, or phone a friend!

Knees Bend, Arms Stretch, Ahhh, Ahhh, Ouch.

Just a quick question today, does anyone know why it is that, as soon as you have a bad back and can’t bend down, you become Little Miss Fumblefingers and just drop absolutely every blinkin thing that you touch??

Answers on a postcard please!

Light up the World.

The old back having “gone” again New Year’s Eve night was spent at home, rather than at the usual party, watching the countdown and the Pyrotechnics on the TV. They were amazing to see, even on the small screen and I watched enthralled by the well-structured and paced show, this year focusing around Big Ben and the Wheel.

This morning’s news featured the New Year being rung in with celebrations around the globe, a lot of very, very expensive fireworks and then one huge candlelit vigil.

And as much as I enjoyed the show and as much as I get that these joyous, expansive displays, for events, cement, for a short time, the unity of people and lifts their spirits.

But, and it is a huge but, I just can’t let go of the thought that the amount of wealth expended around the world, that quite literally went up in smoke last night, could have fed the starving of the world!

At the end of the day the most powerful image that I am left with is that of the candlelit vigil, which costs little and, you’ll know if you have ever taken part in one, can lift your heart and really bring home to you the connection of all humanity.