Underneath the arches, again

 

Underneath the arches, again

We have a winding path with three arches in our back garden. The original metal arches were replaced a few years ago. Two years ago, the third arch, furthest from the house, collapsed under the weight of evergreen climbers. We, or rather, Barry, replaced it.

Yesterday, there was an ominous crack as Barry attempted to straighten the sagging arch nearest the house and it slumped even further sideways. It hadn’t damaged the fence round the pond, fortunately, but it was beyond repair, so this morning it was removed. This wasn’t a task quickly accomplished, as the arch was supporting, or rather being supported by, a long-established rose, a vigorous evergreen honeysuckle and jasmine. The plants had to be stripped out first. They have been reduced to ground level and if they grow again, and they probably will, we shall keep them as shrubs if we can, which will be easier to control.

There was a robin singing extravagantly loudly as we worked, which was a delight. In the course of the work, we came across an empty bird’s nest. Any birds planning to use it again this spring will be sadly disappointed.

There is now a huge pile of branches waiting to be graunched into mulch. Over the years, our ground level has risen considerably, as we have added layers of mulch around the trees and shrubs.

Suddenly, the garden looks much bigger. Maybe we will reconsider the remaining arches and whether they, too, should be demolished. It would make garden maintenance easier and more straightforward, though possibly less interesting to the eye.

A note from Jellicoe

 

A note from Jellicoe

Hello everyone. Thank you so much for all your good wishes - you’re truly kind. I feel as though I’ve got friends all over the world.

I have had an interesting couple of weeks. I’ve met some really nice vets and nurses who made a great fuss of me, even though they shaved off so much of my fur and sliced lumps out of me.

I spent a few nights away from home, which was strange, and quite lonely, because I’m used to cuddling up with the dogs and The THINKER and The MAID. I wasn’t feeling very well, though, so it was as well that I was sleeping on my own in a nice secure kennel. I even had to spend some time in an oxygen tent because I was having difficulty breathing, and everyone was worried about me.

Soon, I was well enough to go home, but I couldn’t see out of my eye- the one below where the lump and the lymph node were taken out – as it was very swollen. I really looked a terrible mess. The THINKER and the MAID took photographs of me, but they haven’t shown them to anyone because they’re not nice. 

I had a tube in my neck, which seemed odd. I had to have that because the nice vets had taken some tissue from my mouth to build up my eye-lid, so my mouth was sore. I was wearing a soft collar round my neck to keep the tube in place, and a collar of shame to stop me scratching and licking where I shouldn’t. The THINKER and the MAID had to feed me through the tube, and it took forever, especially the first time.

After a few days, I went back to the hospital to have the tube removed. The nice vets and nurses were very pleased with me. It was so good to be able to eat properly again. I had lost quite a lot of weight, so I had to and see Selene-the-Vet. She was rather shocked when she saw me as I wasn’t my usual handsome self. My glucose curve had to be checked and now I’m back to my normal insulin dose.

I still don’t look very lovely, but the swellings are all going down and I can see out of my eye now. I look more like a cat than a battered old football, and my fur is growing back quickly. Next week I have to go back to have my stitches out.

The MAID and The THINKER discussed whether they had done the right thing in letting me have an operation, but agreed that the alternative, of letting the cancer take its course, would have been far worse. They took the advice of Selene-the-Vet first of all, and then the recommendation of the nice vets at the hospital.

I’m just glad to be home, where I belong.

(The MAID speaks: you can learn more about why we’re called The MAID and The THINKER in this blog post.)

AWOL

 

AWOL

Acronyms are sometimes misleading, but often amusing.

I’m not really AWOL, that is, ‘absent without leave,’ because AFAIK (as far as I know) I don’t need any BYL (by your leave) to post on my own blog.

IMHO (in my humble opinion) it’s usually advisable to follow the advice to KISS (keep it simple, stupid) and not release TMI (too much information)

 IDK (I don’t know) how many people are subject to FOMO (fear of missing out) and TBH (to be honest), FYI (for your information) it’s NOMB (none of my business)

 LMK (let me know) if you have any favourite acronyms or if you regard them as a waste of time and effort (WOTAE)

Making up my own, now (MUMO) so it’s time to go (TTG)

TTFN (ta-ta for now)

Groceries

 

Groceries

The groceries arrived this morning in good time, with no substitutions.

However, as the bags were handed to me, I noticed milk swirling around in a couple of them. I commented on it to the delivery driver and he explained that milk had leaked from someone else’s order.

Before putting the items away, I had to wipe away the milk. In a couple of cases, it had found its way inside containers so that the fruit or vegetables in them had to be washed immediately. That was not a big problem, or even a little one, but it was annoying. 

Milk is not a contaminant, so I’m not concerned about ill effects.

All in all, I’ll write it off to experience. Accidents happen.

I’m all right, Jack

 

I’m all right, Jack

            Royal Coat of Arms over the Main Gate of Chatham Dockyard

    Image courtesy Wikimedia Commons

Kent is the Garden of England (and Chatham is the dustbin in it!)

 I was brought up in the Medway Towns (now known as Medway) in Kent at a time when the Army and Royal Navy, including the Royal Navy Dockyard, were significant employers in the local community.

Chatham, often pronounced Cha’am (glottal stops are common in Medway) was a colourful society, stuffed with public houses after the end of the Second World War, because of the great density of workmen. There were between 200 and 280 pubs in the Chatham area.

It was, and still is, home to the Corps of Royal Engineers, and was an important Naval port. Therefore, many of the expressions familiar to me stem from that background, many military, and many more Naval.

Some phrases were blunt to the point of obscenity, but had usually acquired a semblance of gentility by the time they were adopted by the wider populace. Thus, ‘I’m all right, Jack,’ originating from the Royal Navy in the nineteenth century, was usually prefaced with a profanity, which was lost with time and usage.

It’s believed to stem from matelots (Royal Navy sailors) when the last person climbing the ladder up the side of a ship would say, on reaching the deck, ‘Pull up the ladder, Jack, I’m all right.’ In time, this was reversed to become, ‘I’m all right, Jack,’ sometimes followed by ‘Pull up the ladder.’

Out of context, it came to signify a selfish, smug attitude, with scant regard for the well-being of others.

I have only heard it used in jest.

 It was also the title of a 1959 comedy, about industrial life and strife in the 1950s, starring Peter Sellers, Terry-Thomas, Ian Carmichael, Irene Handl, and others.

Live and learn

 

Live and learn

The spike fiddle rested on the knee to be played.

 Image courtesy Wikimedia Commons

More words gleaned along the way – some will be instantly forgotten, I’m sure.

Erhu: the erhu is a two-stringed musical instrument from China, known as a spike or Chinese fiddle. There is more information here.

 Image courtesy Wikimedia Commons

'Not very long ago,

When we started for a show, 

We jumped aboard a street car, 

My! but it was slow.'

Jitney: Jitney is slang for a nickel, a five cent coin. A jitney is a low fare bus or car service, originating in the early twentieth century in the USA.

                                    Mahwa leaves and fruit

Image courtesy Wikimedia Commons

Mahwa: Mahwa or Madhuca longifolia is a fast-growing tropical tree found in India, Bangladesh, Nepal, Myanmar, and Sri Lanka. 

The leaves are eaten by a moth which produces wild silk, its flowers are used to make alcoholic drinks, and the bark has medicinal qualities. 

The seeds which follow the flowers provide oil which is used for skin care, detergent, soap, and vegetable butter. 

One of its popular names is Butter Tree.

It is a valuable, all-purpose tree.

Henry or Harry?

 

Henry or Harry?

Cry 'God for Harry, England, and Saint George!' (King Henry V, Act 5, Scene 2)

 Miniature of Henry V, 1412. 

Image courtesy Wikimedia Commons

 It is traditional for someone named Henry to be called Harry. I had an uncle Harry and so did my husband, but both of those men had officially been named Henry.

In the Middle Ages, the Norman French name Henri became popular after the Norman Conquest of 1066 to 1071. The English, unable to pronounce it correctly, adapted it to Herry or Harry, and it has become customary for it to be a diminutive or affectionate form of Henry. It was popular as a Royal name in Germany, France, and England, and was adopted by other European countries, such as Poland, which claimed Henry as Henryk, or Lithuania which had Herkus. In Wales, it became Perry, and in Ireland it was Annraoi.

The name lent itself to surnames, too, like Harrison, Henson, Heinz, and Henriques.

It was common to create female forms of the name, like Henrietta, or Enrica, or Heike, while Harry gave rise to Harriet, or diminutives like Hatty, or Hetty, Hena, or Jetta.

The meaning of the name Henry or Harry is ‘home ruler’ and the same applies to the female form.

Jackspeak or Naval slang

 

Jackspeak or Naval slang

Image courtesy Wikimedia Commons

All true Brits, we’re led to believe, have salt water running through our veins. UK is known as a Naval nation, and so it is to be expected that many expressions reflect that.

There is no place in the UK further than seventy miles (110 kms) from the coast. Church Flatts Farm, just south-east of the village of Coton in the Elms, (population 896 at the 2011 census) in Derbyshire, has been calculated by Ordnance Survey to be furthest from the sea at low tide.

Are you taken aback at that fact? In nautical terms, a ship was taken aback when its sails billowed in reverse, either through poor seamanship or a shift in the wind’s direction. In today’s parlance, it indicates that someone has been surprised, or received a shock.

Rigging on HMS Victory, Portsmouth

Image courtesy Wikimedia Commons

A boy joining a ship’s company in the era of sail would have to learn about rigging and canvas, so an older hand would show him the ropes, literally. The lad might at first find himself confused, or all at sea.

If he were joining a ship in Bristol, a port since Roman times, a seaman would soon learn the necessity of keeping everything in good order. Bristol had one of the highest tidal ranges in the world, so when the tide went out, ships would go aground and tip to one side because of their keels. This meant that everything had to be stowed neatly and efficiently to prevent damage. Thus arose the expression, ship-shape and Bristol fashion, now used, if at all, to mean organised and tidy.

Do you sometimes need a spot of Dutch courage before attempting an onerous task? This originates from the series of wars between the English and the Dutch in the seventeenth century, most of which took place at sea. British sailors unfairly accused the Dutch of being so fearful before engaging in battle that they needed to have a shot of schnapps to boost their morale. This became known as Dutch courage.

Still within the realms of battle, we find long shot and loose cannon. A long shot is any attempt that is doomed to failure, and derives from shots fired more in hope than expectation, when the range is exceeded.

A loose cannon occurred when a ship’s gun would work free of its securing ropes and carriage when firing and fly back across the deck, the resultant shot missing its target and causing mayhem. Today’s loose cannon is any person considered erratic, even unhinged, whose thoughts, words, and deeds are unpredictable.

After the fatigue of skirmish was done, the ship’s company might settle to eat. Frequently, provisions were expected to last for months and would be heavily salted or preserved in brine. This made them tough, requiring a great deal of chewing to break them down sufficiently to swallow. Chewing the fat took a long time, and sailors would chat, and possibly grumble, as they chewed. The expression has developed to mean having a long, perhaps rambling, debate or conversation.

         

New guidelines

 

New guidelines

The UK Government, in its infinite wisdom, has advised potential employers to remove ‘stereotypically masculine’ language from advertisements, in order that female applicants are not deterred from applying for jobs. It, or rather, the ‘Office for Equality and Opportunity’ claims that the aim of the advice is to remove ‘invisible barriers’ and ‘ensure women can thrive at work.’

The offensive words include ‘ambitious,’ ‘competitive,’ and ‘entrepreneurial.’ Ye gods and little fishes!

 This is not a joke, but it is patronising and insulting. I wonder how long it will be before the ‘advice’ is adapted or withdrawn in the face of disbelief and outrage from working women.

It will just be yet another U-turn in a growing list of about turns.

Orange Fizz

 

Orange Fizz

'Orange Fizz'

Scented leaf pelargoniums have their origins in South Africa. The leaves, with their distinctive scents, can be used in cooking, pot pourri, or aromatic oils. They are often effective in dissuading pests from plants.

We have several in the conservatory. The flowers are less flamboyant than those of the garden pelargoniums or geraniums, but are pretty and detailed. They bloom at various times and the one presently flowering is ‘Orange Fizz.’ It has an intense orange smell.

Scented leaf pelargoniums can spend the summer outside, but, in common with geraniums, will not withstand frost and must be brought back indoors as temperatures cool.

 

Collective

Rather than reply individually to your very kind comments, for which I thank you all very much, I thought I’d give you a generalised update on Jellicoe’s Jolly Japes.

Last Thursday, he had an operation to remove a tumour above his left eye. At the same time, an associated lymph node was removed. Tissue was taken from his mouth to reconstruct his eyelid. (In humans, a graft would be taken from any suitable part of the body since we’re not generally covered in fur/hair.)

After four nights away, he came home on Monday. He was very pleased to be back in his old stamping ground and was enthusiastically sniffed by his house mates (not the human ones!) Gilbert is rather worried by the blue cone that moves about the house but is coming to terms with it being a temporary addition to his friend, Jellicoe.

As he could not eat normally, an oesophageal tube was placed in his neck, and it is through this that all food and medication is delivered via syringe.

Not being experts, we worry at every little twitch or hiccough, but he seems to be surviving, despite our attentions. We are less ham-fisted as time and feedings pass, and should be proficient by the end of the week, when, hopefully, the feeding tube will be removed, and our new expertise will no longer be required. He’s sleeping a lot, which is to be expected, since he’s been coshed with drugs, but is interested in food, though he’s not allowed to attempt to eat at the moment. He is more alert, when not asleep (!) and every small improvement is welcomed.

At present, he looks as though he’s been involved in a bar brawl and has definitely come off worst. To be honest, he looks a mess, but will improve as the swellings reduce. We still keep telling him he’s a beautiful boy, but he really isn’t, apart from temperamentally.

To think that some humans put themselves through surgery to improve what Nature bestowed on them! It’s just not worth it. 

 

Jellicoe comes home

Jellicoe is home after a few days in the Aura animal hospital in Guildford.

         He has to have five feeds a day, taking half an hour each, plus medication.                                                            

It’s a good thing we haven’t anything else to do in the next few days!                          

  

The Keeper

The Keeper

Roe deer

Image courtesy Wikimedia Commons

 This is an English folk song. It sounds very jolly, but is an account of a hunt to kill a deer.

I am unable to embed it, but it can be found here.

Jack is a diminutive of John, and Jackie is an adaptation of Jack.

It is a call and response song. The responses are shown in parentheses.

  The keeper did a hunting go
And under his cloak he carried a bow
All for to shoot a merry little doe
Among the leaves so green, O.

(Chorus)

Jackie boy! (Master!) Sing ye well! (Very well!)
Hey down (Ho down) Derry derry down
Among the leaves so green, O
To my hey down down (To my ho down down)
Hey down (Ho down) Derry derry down
Among the leaves so green, O

The first doe he shot at he missed;
The second doe he trimmed he kissed;
The third doe went where nobody wist
Among the leaves so green, O.

The fourth doe she did cross the plain,
The keeper fetched her back again.
Where she is now, she may remain,
Among the leaves so green, O.

The fifth doe she did cross the brook;
The keeper fetched her back with his crook;
Where she is now you may go and look
Among the leaves so green, O.

The sixth doe she ran over the plain;
But he with his hounds did turn her again,
And it's there he did hunt in a merry, merry vein
Among the leaves so green, 0.

Jack Tar

 

Jack Tar

The True British Tar, 1785

Image courtesy Wikimedia Commons

John was the most popular name for a boy from around 1150 to 1470 and its pet name or diminutive was Jack, which became widespread from the late fourteenth century onwards. It denoted an ordinary or low-class man, or peasant, and was applied to any low-born or common male.

It gave rise to expressions like, ‘Every man Jack,’ meaning every man in a group, with no exemptions.

 ‘Jack of all trades (master of none)’ indicated a person who could turn his hand to any task, while ‘Jack the lad’ described a youth who was self-assured and maybe roguish. These idioms are still used today.

In the seventeenth century, someone trying to improve his social standing, to ‘rise above his station in life,’ would be described as ‘Jack would be a gentleman.’

Royal Navy Boatswain (Bosun) 1820
Image courtesy Wikimedia Commons

There are a few suggestions for how the name Jack Tar came to be applied to sailors. In the seventeenth to nineteenth centuries, when wooden sailing vessels relied on wind for power and propulsion, the rigging for the sails was hemp rope. Being permanently in a damp atmosphere, they were prone to rot, so were covered in tar, which had to be replaced frequently. Tar was also used on the deck planking, and the ship’s hull, to make everything waterproof. Sailors were therefore often liberally coated in tar. Tarpaulins, canvas material coated in tar, were used to cover objects on deck, and sailors’ clothing was made of tarpaulin. It was but a short jump from the name of the material to the name for the man.

There is a belief, unsubstantiated, that sailors tarred their hair, which they wore in a long plait, to prevent it being caught in the rigging. This led to another plausible legend, that the purpose of the square collar of a sailor’s uniform was to protect his uniform being stained by tar from his queue or plait.

Coopers were skilled craftsmen in the nineteenth century whose job was to assemble or maintain casks on board. When a barrel of wine or spirits was emptied, it would be filled with boiling water and rolled about. The drink thus produced was known as grog and the coopers became known as Jolly Jack Tars or groggers.

The invention of grog is ascribed to Admiral Edward ‘Old Grog’ Vernon. His nickname came from his habit of wearing coats of grogram (grosgrain) In 1740, he sought to counteract and reduce inebriation among his crew, by adding water to the rum. With the addition of lime juice, to combat scurvy (and the reason Englishmen are called ‘limeys’) and sugar to sweeten the taste, grog became a staple drink.

Natives of Swansea, in South Wales, are known as Jacks, or ‘Swansea Jacks.’ Swansea men had a reputation for being skilled seamen and, as such, their services were greatly desired by the navy.

Nelson’s Blood

 

Nelson’s Blood

                                    Image courtesy Wikimedia Commons

Nelson’s Blood is Jackspeak for rum. Jackspeak is the slang that has developed over more than four hundred years in the Royal Navy and Royal Marines. ‘Jack’ derives from Jack Tar, one of the nicknames for RN sailors.

So, why is rum called Nelson’s Blood? It has long been recounted that when Admiral Lord Nelson died at the Battle of Trafalgar, his body was preserved in a barrel of spirits, mixed with camphor and myrrh. In this way it was returned to England on HMS Victory, to lie in state in Greenwich before being incarcerated in St Paul’s Cathedral crypt.

The preserving spirit was brandy, not rum, but rum was the spirit introduced to the Royal Navy in 1655 as an alternative to beer, and water. Rum was unlikely to deteriorate and grow algae on long voyages. The daily rum ration, or tot, was distributed around midday, at ‘Up Spirits,’ to which a common response from the sailors was, ‘Stand fast the Holy Ghost.’

Though often referred to as Nelson’s Blood, rum is frequently called Pusser’s Rum. A pusser is naval slang for a purser, the crew member responsible for a ship’s logistics, and therefore the person accountable for supplying the daily tot. ‘Pusser’ implies exemplary service.

The legend of Nelson’s Blood is that sailors drilled holes in the barrel of spirits containing his body and drained off the liquid to drink!

In December 1969, just over three hundred years after the daily tot was instituted, the Admiralty became increasingly concerned that imbibing strong spirits at lunchtime was making it dangerous when sailors were operating complex onboard systems. The daily rum ration was about to become history. The final tot to the fleet was poured a few months later, on ‘Black Tot Day.’ Any remaining rum rations were auctioned off.

Nine years later, the Admiralty agreed to rum being created from the original Royal Navy recipe. It was called Pusser’s Rum. As part of the agreement, the Royal Navy Sailors’ Fund, now the Royal Navy and Royal Marines Charity (RNRMC), receives a donation from each sale.

Church spires

 

Church spires

Salisbury Cathedral, from the Bishop's Grounds, 1823, painted by John Constable  (1776-1837)

Image courtesy Wikimedia Commons

We were discussing church spires recently. They were once prominent landmarks but now are frequently overshadowed by taller constructions.

They point the way to heaven and often house bells, whose clamour calls the faithful to worship.

The spire of Salisbury Cathedral has been the tallest in the United Kingdom since 1561, after the collapse of St Paul’s spire after a fire. In 2018, it gained attention in the press through being visited by two Russians, apparently on a sightseeing tour and wishing to see it for themselves. It transpired that they were military intelligence agents, intent on using Novichok to murder Sergei Skripal, a Russian double agent spying for Britain.

  Salisbury is one of only three cathedrals in the country that does not have a ring of bells.

There is more information here about the building, including the modern font of 2008 designed by William Pye.

Authors inspired by Salisbury Cathedral include Thomas Hardy, William Golding, and Ken Follett, among others. The great gothic building has also inspired artists including John Constable, J.M.W. Turner, Henry Moore, and Antony Gormley.

 

A spring-like day

Brimstone butterfly (Gonepteryx rhamni)

Image courtesy Wikimedia Commons

Meteorological spring begins officially on Sunday 1^st March. As if to herald that auspicious day, Wednesday was sunny and mild. We opened the patio doors to our sitting room to listen to frenetic birds singing loudly, claiming their territory, challenging their peers.

Squirrels cavorted in the trees, chasing madly up and down the tree trunks, leaping from pathway to pathway along the naked oak tree branches.

The first butterflies were flitting about the shrubs. A bright flash and flittering of lemon yellow, the Brimstone butterflies (Gonepteryx rhamni) had emerged from their winter hibernation in the ivy or holly or brambles. It is the males that are so gaily decked out. The mates they hope to impress are more soberly dressed in greenish-white. They are long-lived, these harbingers of spring, enjoying a full twelve-month of life. They survive almost freezing temperatures with glycerin, a natural ‘anti-freeze,’ and by controlling the water in their bodies. While the warmth of a February sun tempts them from their lairs, a sudden drop in temperature can send them back to shelter.

 

In the uncertain days of early spring, Brimstones rely on nectar from early flowering shrubs and flowers, like pussy willow, primroses, or dandelions, though there are none of these producing anything at present for their sustenance in our garden.

Image courtesy Wikimedia Commons

It’s good to be alive!        

Live and learn

 

Live and learn

This is the first in an occasional series demonstrating new vocabulary, sourced through my daily playing of Polygon. When I have exhausted my personal dictionary, all too often woefully quickly, I turn to the solution.

Recently, I discovered ‘joual,’ which may be familiar to the Canadians among us, as it is a patois, a popular form of Canadian or Quebec French. Joual derives from the rural pronunciation of ‘cheval’ (horse) There is more information here.

In the same polygon, I came across ‘rucola,’ which some may already know as rocket or arugula. It is pungent and bursting with vitamin C and iron. I always assumed that common or salad rocket and wild rocket were the same animal, just grown in different ways. I discovered that they are quite distinct. 

Salad rocket (Eruca sativa) is an annual plant with a milder flavour. The flowers are white.

Image courtesy Wikimedia Commons

Wild rocket (Diplotaxis tenuifolia) is a perennial with a more intense piquancy. The leaves are narrower than common rocket and deeply serrated. The flowers are yellow.

Image courtesy Wikimedia Commons

Finally, I found turaco, which ornithologists will know is a bird found among the trees of sub-Saharan Africa. Their diet consists mainly of fruit, and, though they are weak flyers, they are adept at running and leaping, with unique semi-zygodactyl feet. This means that the fourth toe can move forwards or backwards, according to need, to enable them to maintain a firm grip on branches.

Image courtesy Wikimedia Commons

Apart from their beautiful colouring and intriguing calls, they are one of the few birds which have truly green feathers. The feathers contain a green pigment called turacoverdin.

Whether I retain any of this newly-acquired knowledge remains to be seen!

Hedgehogs

 

Hedgehogs

Gareth's hedgehog, left, was intended to be a money box. Susannah's, right, wasn't!

I don’t know whether clay modelling is still something that children do at school. I came across these dusty hedgehogs that my children made when they were about eight years old. I suspect they had the same class teacher, two years apart, and perhaps the study of hedgehogs or other small mammals was part of the curriculum. It was definitely before the advent of the Great Education Reform Bill of 1988, always called Gerbil, but officially labelled the Education Reform Act.

Gareth's hedgehog had a very prominent nose. Perhaps his teacher made much of the hedgehog's predation on insects, snails, frogs, mushrooms and other delicacies.

Susannah's hedgehog is altogether smoother and more streamlined.

Before the National Curriculum was established, teachers were freer to follow their own pursuits and interests, to go off at a tangent. This worked well for those who still felt that children should be ’well grounded’ in the basics, the well-known Three Rs, but were able to interest their classes in other things. I well remember one seven-year-old excitedly telling her mother, ‘Mrs Cooke made fog!’

Anyway, the little hedgehogs my son and daughter made were brought home proudly to be displayed. My son’s work of art was intended to be a money box, with a slot in the top. Whether that was his idea or the whole class was encouraged to make money boxes, I don’t know. When his younger sister made hers, it did not benefit from a slot.

We used to see hedgehogs in the garden from time to time, but I haven’t seen one for an exceptionally long time. Our Jack Russell, Daisy, used to find one occasionally and come in covered in fleas. That was almost forty years ago. Fortunately, hedgehog fleas don’t survive on anything other than hedgehogs.

I’ve just found out that there are seventeen species of hedgehogs, though there are none in Australia and none now living in the Americas. New Zealand hedgehogs are an introduced species, as they are in the Outer Hebridean islands of Benbecula and North Uist.

They are distantly related to the much smaller shrews. Although their prickly spines are usually brown, the hedgehogs of Alderney, in the Channel Islands, are blonde.

In Britain, the population of rural hedgehogs has declined rapidly since 2000.

Substitutions

 

Substitutions

My grocery order has just been delivered, and it had some substitutions, which were quite acceptable. The young man helpfully holding up the crate so that I could transfer the contents to a bag – I always regard it as a weight-training exercise, which gets easier as the items are removed – told me that most of the substitutions are usually quite reasonable. Sometimes, though, they beggar belief, and bear little or no relation to the requested item. For example, one customer had ordered bread, but it wasn’t available and it had been replaced with tomato ketchup. What was the thought sequence there? Bread for sandwiches for cheese for pickle for ketchup . . .

Questions then arise about the state of mind of the employee whose job it is to select items for a customer’s list. These staff members are variously called Online Pickers, Online Assistants, Retail Assistants, or Personal Shoppers.

Everyone has off-days or lapses in concentration and I can well imagine how strange or unusual substitutions can be made occasionally. Lemon bleach for lemons?

It’s raining . . .

 

It’s raining . . .

It’s raining, it’s pouring,
The old man is snoring;
He went to bed
And he banged his head.
Ane he couldn’t get up
In the morning.

(Rain, rain, go away,
Come again another day.)

This nursery rhyme is American in origin and was first published in 1912. One suggestion is that the first line is a metaphor for a liberal outpouring of alcohol.The ‘old man’ bumping his head is a consequence of inebriation. 

The second  couplet in brackets is something I've always added when singing with children. 

Robert Louis Stevenson’s poem, ‘Rain,’ is sweet and simple and was included in ‘A Child’s Garden of Verses,’ first published in 1885.

The rain is raining all around,
It falls on field and tree,
It rains on the umbrellas here,
And on the ships at sea.

Robert Louis Stevenson (1850-1894)

        `
                                               

Dusting

 

Dust if you must

Image courtesy Wikimedia Commons

Dust if you must, but wouldn’t it be better
To paint a picture, or write a letter,
Bake a cake, or plant a seed;
Ponder the difference between want and need? 

Dust if you must, but there’s not much time,
With rivers to swim, and mountains to climb;
Music to hear, and books to read:
Friends to cherish, and life to lead.

Dust if you must, but the world’s out there
With sun in your eyes, and the wind in your hair;
A flutter of snow, a shower of rain,
This day will not come around again.

Dust if you must, but bear in mind,

Old age will come and it’s not kind.

And when you go (and go you must)

You, yourself, will make more dust.

Rose Milligan (first published in September 1998 in ‘The Lady.’)

Rose Milligan was born in Yorkshire, but later moved to Lancaster, Lancashire, where she indulged her love of fell-walking. She died in 1994, leaving behind friends and a loving family, including great-great-grandchildren.

For those who are driven to dust – that is, the act of dusting, AI says:

Yes, regular dusting is essential for health and home maintenance. It removes allergens like dust mites, pet dander, and pollen that cause respiratory issues, while also preventing the buildup of harmful indoor chemical contaminants. Dusting improves indoor air quality, protects furniture from damage, and stops dust from attracting more dust.