Wednesday, September 20, 2017

September 20th

Off to Toome this morning fror a wee dander up the canal with two young friends. On the way, I passed the Moneyglass Estate where a good bit of location work for Game of Thrones was shot. There was something going on but I couldn't quite make it out. Always important to keep one's eye on the road when one is driving. But that's where the internet comes in handy. When I got home I checked this site out. Seems like Winterfell is going to be an important filming location for GOT Season 8 and perhaps there will be some extra work for this guy.

Which guy? Martha and Evie's dad. He's the good looking one with the beard.

Tuesday, September 19, 2017

September 19th

The 19th September - the anniversary of Miss Martha's birth and the sad, sad anniversary of Shirley's death. That photograph was taken more than eleven years ago when Shirley would have been in her very early twenties. If she were alive today she'd be in her mid-thirties, still young.

A while ago whilst searching on-line for Susan McKay, for I'd just read her book, Northern Protestants: an Unsettled People, I came across this article. It's a bit sketchy on Shirley's life in Ballymena but otherwise an accurate enough account of some of the events that lead to her death.

And I'll only speak for myself when I say she was let down. She became a lost soul and easy prey for the predator who ended her life. Susan McKay should have concentrated more on Ballymena for it's Ballymena that knows what happened to wee Shirley.

Monday, September 18, 2017

September 18th

Martha chose the menu for this evening's meal. She chose chilli - a new favourite and chocolate birthday cake for afters. Her birthday's not until tomorrow but traditionally (been doing it for a couple of years now) I always make a birthday cake on the Monday closest to a person's birthday.

I went to a lot of trouble with the cake. None of that bunging it all into the food processor and whizzing it up like Nigella recommends. Oh no! I'm out with the Kenwood, proper caster sugar, softened butter creamed to whiteness. Then add the (sifted) flour and beaten eggs bit by bit. Lovely stuff. Then into the tins, into the oven and I'm off for a wee break on the worldwide web to check up on the Emmys. Twenty-five minutes later Bert interrupts me.

That timer thing on the oven is chirping. I nearly didn't hear it because of the radio dinnling away.

Oh dear. I didn't hear it at all for I'm occupied looking at the fancy dresses on some women that I've never even heard of.

The cake was, of course, burned. Only slightly but enough to depress me. I shaved the burnt bits off but it still wasn't right. I decided to go again. This time I bunged everything into the processor. No caster sugar as I'd run out so used ordinary and a bit of Demerara. Bunged it into the tins, the oven and kept a very tight eye on it. Came out perfect. Then I decorated it as instructed. Chocolate glace icing, ugly orange dog, eight pink candles and green smarties to represent the grass that the dog was supposed to be sitting on. I added some pink smarties and a glittery candle in the shape of an 'eight'. It was a horror show. Martha loved it. Even though the dog had slipped back and was teetering at the edge of the cake.

Meanwhile, Bert, Hannah, the girls and six dogs had disappeared into the woods to look for fungi and fairy rings. There was some sort of tale about stepping into fairy rings and disappearing and however they managed to create this illusion, Bert was completely taken in by it. Apparently. They were full of stories about it.

It was yet another amazingly successful birthday dinner at Nellybert's. I really love being a Granny and I know Bert feels the same about being a Granda. If the weather holds we'll take them out in the camper van at the weekend. Just the two dogs though. Fingers crossed.

Sunday, September 17, 2017

September 17th

The first day in weeks that it did not rain and I was feeling fragile. I have no recollection of writing yesterday's post so have no idea what I was on about. I do not like 'going out' and intend to do much less of it in future.

All the guest dogs have gone home and the regular dogs are feeling very happy about that.

Tomorrow I have to make a chocolate cake and have already eaten all the chocolate.

I need to catch myself on.

That is all.

Saturday, September 16, 2017

September 16th

Well. Apart from what would have been my father's  98th birthday, this turned out to be a very interesting night out.  Cannot bear to wait the extra hour until the taxi home is due.  What happens next? I'll tell you tomorrow.

Friday, September 15, 2017

September 15th

Bert sent Evil Edna and her boy calf to market. Eight years she has lived here so it was a wrench. Never mind, that every chance she got she was ornery. If Bert wanted the cattle to go left Edna went right. She was a complete pain-in-the-ass cow. And always the difficulty with the calf. They never took to sucking and always gave Bert a big headache. Despite this all he was sad, very sad to see her go and had to spend an hour playing sad melodies on his clarinet to console himself.

I tried to console him myself.

It was all for the best. You just need the one obstreperous old cow in your life, eating you out of house and home. The one you married.

Thursday, September 14, 2017

September 14th

At last! Bert is working on a tune that I actually enjoy listening to. He says I will be fed up with it before he is finished but I don't think so. It's not Jazzer you call me. She is the one who cut her husband's banjo strings after listening to him play his part in Duelling Banjos once too often.

Bert's melody?  Si Tu Vois Ma Mère.

Today was child day and I was frogmarched to the craft and hobbies store to buy decorations for Martha's birthday cake. She chose an orange dog even homelier than Scooby Doo and neon pink candles. I will have to include multi-coloured Smarties to pull the whole thing together. Pictures are promised.

And speaking of photographs. Before we picked Martha up Evie and I shopped at the Polish store where we bought....

I loved the picture on the cocoa packet. Pasta is always good and Bert likes nothing better than some tinned crap. Although maybe not so fond of the sos tomat.