Tag Archives: Monday memories

How it was….

You know how it is, you’re having a conversation with someone, the topic changes and you’re left behind.  That’s when you need a back up memory aka someone to remind you of the things you’ve forgotten 

One minute I’m chatting to my next sister about what life in India must have been like during the late 1800s for our Gt Grandparents – John Joseph Patrick Doyle and Jane Muir.

John and Jane Doyle abt 1876

Even with the ‘perks’ a soldier of his rank (colour sgt) would have had,  the climate and environment would have been something neither would have encountered before.  Likewise for many of the ordinary rank soldiers who would have been going on patrol up country.

Then a short while later we are talking about hop picking.  For a few years during the late 1940s/ early 1950s we lived in Cosham Hampshire – Dad had been posted away and Mum was always looking for ways to earn some extra pennies.  I could remember during the summer school holidays travelling on an old bus along with what seemed like every local woman and crying baby up Wymering Lane and over the nearby Portsdown Hill to huge fields full of enormous poles with vines hanging down. Then having to carry bags full of ‘stuff’ my mother deemed we needed for the day.  Next sister sent me this old photo to remind me of the look and feel of the hop fields.

She remembers so many different things to me, mothers singing in the bus, primus stoves and enamel tea pots, green coloured flasks with corks in the top, door stop sandwiches (no sliced bread).  Being allowed to get dirty, running amok amongst the tall hop poles barefooted or in the previous years gutties with the toes cut out…..because our feet had grown and there was no spare cash to buy new ones.
You can tell from those memories who was the younger one with less responsibilities!

Lots of laughter because when she mentioned gutties – I thought she said putties and had returned to soldiers in India😊

No, she said, those canvas shoes we wore during the summer.
They made your feet sweat and we had to clean them outside with some pastey white stuff.
Blanco I told her, made the laces go stiff and the white stuff used to come off, floating in the air like a fine dust

But weren’t they called Sand Shoes? Gym Shoes? Plimsolls?.
No, Dad called them Gutties, something else I’d forgotten.
That’s what they’re called in Northern Ireland

I showed her the photo of me in my white shoes and seeing the dress she had on she remarked (once again) how she’d never forgotten how she had to wear my old clothes. So I had to remind her about no extra cash and everything being passed on.  There don’t seem to be any photos to prove otherwise but we think our little sister also wore the same dress one summer a few years later. Sadly she is no longer with us to say yay or nay🙁

Not the shoes tho’ – they’d had the toes cut out so we could get another summer’s ’round the house or playing in the street’ wear out of them

You know, all these years later I still wear some form of those white canvas shoes during the summer.
Perfect for round the house or down the beach.

No need for all that messy white stuff these days – I just chuck them in the washing machine and hang them on the line to dry  and if the toes wear through, no worries, they’ll be right for gardening the next year

What memories have you relived recently.
~ ~ ~ ~
I see no wrong in admitting you’ve forgotten something – to me being reminded in some circumstances makes the memory fresh again

#keeplifesimple

Visitors of the native kind

(Tigger and Ms F were talking about visitors to their garden which reminded me of these two from a few years ago)

October 2011 – Far eastern suburbs of Melbourne
Foothills of the Dandenong Ranges

Look what was on the front grass when I got home one afternoon
And yes, there are times of the year when our grass is an unintentional special mix of dandelions, daisies and various other bits and pieces😊
But that’s not what I want to show you lol

There they are
A pair of Crimson Rosellas looking for something tasty to eat

Crimson Rosella
Scientific Name:
Platycercus elegans
Featured bird groups:
Parrots

Not too concerned about the car to begin with
More interested in the nice dandelion clocks full of seeds – right there in front of them

Almost like statues – looking straight ahead
showing off their beautiful red heads and blue speckled wings and back

Uh Oh Looks like I’ve been sprung – mid mouthful as well

The one on the left was intent on lunch and was ready to dive straight in
The one closest to the car carried on moving about and munching
but still wasn’t sure if he saw anything or not

Still plenty to eat there but they left soon after

Don’t Forget – if you want to see it best……Click/ tap or finger slide to enlarge

Linking to  Wednesday’s Words & Pics hosted by Denyse …..  Denyse Whelan Blogs

Off and running…..

So my dad was born near Portadown NI in a little place called Corcullentragh Beg – try saying that when you’ve had a few drinks ( or fitting it onto an official form😊

Yes its begun again – its been happening every four years since 1930.
World Cup Fever is alive and well – lots of history to be seen here.
The Socceroos have one more game to win to qualify for a place in the competition

Kicking that round ball is sort of a passion for some of the males in my family – my Dad and my brother were/are former players and great fans, one of my Irish cousins had a chequered career as NI international playing for Manchester United/Swindon Town in the 1970’s, after training with Sheffield United followed by a sports degree (Culver Stockton) a nephew (bro’s son) is now associated with a Sports Academy here in Melbourne plus our eldest son is a huge fan of Ipswich (TFC).  He was over 11 when we migrated to Australia from England so by then the soccer/football bug was well and truly entrenched into his mindset.

The Golfer isn’t as fanatical these days as he has been.  I clearly remember 1966 – we were living  in Singapore at the time – and their TV broadcasts were mainly in Chinese but we just ‘had’ to hire one so he could watch as many of that years world cup games as possible!!

… … … …

My sister Bobby is the keeper of all Mum and Dad’s bits and pieces – and recently unearthed an old photo of Dad (bottom right) during his soccer (football) playing days in Belfast. After getting some online help we discovered that Windsor Star (a Linfield youth team) were second division champions April 1938 – hence the shield and whopping great silver cup! Dad would have turned 20 in June that year and joined the RAF in the August – staying on in service after the war ended, never returning to live in Belfast, just as a visitor.

I think my dislike of the game started when I was quite young – Dad did ‘the pools’ each week, putting a cross in some of the boxes and paying his money to the man who came round door to door on a Thursday.

(A football pool, often collectively referred to as “the pools”, is a betting pool based on predicting the outcome of top-level association football matches set to take place in the coming week) source

Come 5pm on a Saturday afternoon during the season the radio would go on and BBC Sports Report would start and then the Classified Football Results would be broadcast.

I can still remember hearing the man who read out those results going on and on – from League Division One all the way through the minor leagues and Scottish leagues as well.  Weird and wonderful team names, places you’d never heard of but if they had a football team of note the score from their game for that week got a mention.   

To make sure he heard all the results and was able to mark them off correctly in the chart printed in the paper and then check his pools to see if we were going to become millionaires Dad needed complete silence in the room – Ha Ha – not going to happen when Catherine is around lol

I even loathed the music that was played at the beginning and each Saturday when I heard it I promised myself I would not speak but failed miserably each time and boy, did my Dad have a temper.  As Bobby said recently, his ”shut ya bake” and the sheer volume it was yelled at, snapped us to attention and silence followed by the scurrying of feet out of the room

Football is a winter sport and winter in England can be cold and back in the 1950’s we only had a coal fire in the living room of our house – bedrooms were not heated and I was sent to that freezing bedroom more times than I like to remember 😟

Its only recently when some friends were talking about associating music with feelings that I thought about trying to locate that music on the Internet.  It seems that the cause of all my worries is a march called ‘Out of the Blue’ composed by Hubert Bath.

… … … …

Early Monday morning, cup of tea in hand and I’m testing myself by playing this version – listening to it has me wondering how a lively march like that could bring back such bad feelings.

I have no idea – but even hearing it again now makes me feel sick inside.
Excuse me – I must leave the room

Do any of you have such reactions to musical tunes…or is it just me?
… … … …

Corinne is back with Monday Musings – come see what she is talking about this week

Take time for all things….

I’ve always been of the opinion we must open our eyes and ears to everything
‘Read mark listen and learn’ was drummed into me from a young age

And where sport and the arts were concerned it was – “Open your eyes”
“Just because you don’t like it doesn’t mean there’s no merit to it”

So back in the 1970s my oldest children were the ones who introduced me to Queen. I/me a lover of ‘50s rock and roll plus many other forms of music, was well into my 30s when Bohemian Rhapsody was released. I loved it….and many others that followed!

Whether you liked the band, the man, his music and his lifestyle – or not

Take 5 minutes to listen – and maybe sing along


‘Different voices’ were optional – but I know you all gave it a try😊

Linking to Denyse’s ~ Life’s Stories. She is telling an revealing one today

Do you record….

It always seemed a very pretentious thing to do.
Photograph your handiwork
I would knit and sew – then gift without another thought about what I’d given.
Just a hope the person would like it.

Then this photo was forwarded to me.
Taken at a friend’s granddaughter’s christening tea.
Me – baby Tamika – and the embroidered wool blanket – my gift to the newborn.
The thank you card mentioned having a pictorial record of the love I’d put into making something.
So from then on that’s what I’ve done.

Kept a ‘pictorial record’ of my doings….as well as notes and little sketches.
lol I must have bored you silly over the years bombarding you with pictures of all my charity knits – – Case in point being the workings out for little red cardigan from a year ago – https://cranethie.com/2020/12/06/ive-made-it/….and then the photo when it was finished – https://cranethie.com/2021/03/08/theres-always-one-2/

I can assure you there’s lots more plus the notes I’ve kept about the type of wool used, colour, brand and how much it weighed when finished. It’s handy to have if you’ve got odd balls lying around…..gives you some idea on what to do with the stash – the one conveniently ’tucked away’ in various places inside as well as outside the house 😊

Apart from The Golfer’s sampler (still in progress – it didn’t get finished for Christmas) I’ve given up on cross stitch. These two nearly cost me my sanity!

Letter B and Letter B revisited

Wedding sampler1 and Wedding sampler2

Which brings me to this – a ’seemed like a good idea at the time’ embroidered wool blanket – as the intended baby turned out to be a boy another gift had to be given – so it’s been in hiding for a few years now.

When finished I could gift it to a friend’s expected great granddaughter – or I could gift it unfinished, along with the instructions and materials to the same friend’s granddaughter……the expectant mother…a very ‘crafty’ young woman….who has shown interest in the project and would willingly finish it. Somehow I think the second option is what will happen – I’m happy looking back at this photo knowing I sewed a lot of love into my part of it ❤️❤️

How about you? I know many of us keep notes on books read but do you keep them on gifts given…..handmade or otherwise?

Did we ever find the answer??

I’m not sure what the question was or even if there was an answer

These turned up in a box out in the garage

I remember them as interesting reads at a time when I needed a bit of encouragement

Thinking back, I wasn’t a sheep, following along with everyone else, but strangely was ambitious yet didn’t want to be ’the big boss’ – what I was really interested in was what ’the big boss’ thought and how they might have gone about things.

At that time the words ’self improvement’ never entered my mind – what these books (and more) gave me (because they were always being mentioned in the staff room) was a small insight into how and why some of my colleagues and ’superiors’ thought (and acted) in those days.

I’m still cross we lent the ever popular Think and Grow Rich to a ’friend’ never to see it again yet still remember Hill’s first principle of success being Desire.

Anyway that was a long time ago now and guess what……Of all the advice I gleaned at the time …Dress Well and Be Nice …is what I remember the most 😊

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

I had a week off from the blog, not writing or reading or answering comments……because ’The Back’ ‘flared up’ and has been a problem again I’ve been indulging in a self pity party – not wanting to talk to anyone, feeling angry (it’s not fair!) knowing tears don’t solve anything yet wallowing in misery. Which has got to stop!

I feel another quiet week coming up I think. A warm sunny one I hope
It’ll soon be breakfast time – time for another cup of tea…..will it be cereal, toast and marmalade this morning or porridge with cinnamon sugar and a handful of sultanas?
Then afterwards maybe I’ll dip into those books again and refresh my memory on how to Think Big – Win Friends – Look Good – Read Body Language – and Communicate Well With Everyone 😊

Curious to know if anyone else read these or any similar books and did you find them useful at the time? As some of them are still in print people must think the ideas haven’t dated and are still be relevant to life in the 21st century.

Nine months….

A length of time usually associated with birth, smiles and laughter

Nine months ago today my darling little sister died, a day filled with tears and sadness

When I thought of her today it was as if I’d turned a corner

There were no tears – just lots of smiles

I spent the day remembering the good times we’d shared that were filled with laughter

Clarborough July 2006
Paphos September 2014

Or nursing late night headaches 😎

Paphos September 2014

How did you….

I can’t actually remember when I learnt to knit, I know it was well before I turned 10 because I have memories of knitted scarves my class in primary school made ‘for the poor’….as for who taught me, well even though I wrote about it HERE it’s still a mystery.
Growing up after the war I don’t remember there being much shop bought clothing in our house, Mum sewed most of our clothes and we knit. I was about 15 when this was taken and both my little brother’s jumper and the striped one I’m wearing kept me busy the summer before.

The other day Tiggers Honey aka F remarked about even knitting (something I don’t often give much thought to ) – I usually just go through the motions and piece together the end result 😊

Actually I’m of the opinion that the tension and final appearance have a lot to do with the wool/yarn that’s used. I’ve two little cardigans on the go at the moment, both using acrylic but one is a more expensive line which is firmer but maybe not as soft as the other. They are slightly different designs, both have the same pattern (k5 – p1) yet I have to say I prefer the look of the green knitting but definitely like the feel of the pink more than the other

Anyway back to my ‘when did you learn, who taught you, how were you taught’…… all those thoughts came to mind when a little meme was forwarded to me last week. I’ve never heard the process of making a stitch referred to in this supposedly humorous way – has anyone else?

Call me old fashioned but somehow I think my words of encouragement
(the same ones used by my Dad)
~ needle in – wool round- pull through- slip off ~
sound a lot nicer 😊.
Which leads me to – how was the process of knitting explained to you?

One early covert – another slightly older

Pussy cat Pussy cat where have you been……

We had cold and wet and gale force wind in copious quantities last week in Melbourne, we also had days with no power after a ‘ginormous’ storm went through but just before all that happened I did a bit of indoor ‘ techie type’ clutter clearing’…… this time it was sorting out old photo folders (again)
I had a little smile when I came across these two …..I’d read somewhere about taking photos as reminders of items/objects you’ve enjoyed but no longer want/need
So during a previous ‘clearing out’ blitz, that’s just what I did.
Took photos of these two very large almost brand new mugs that had spent a lot of unused time in the cupboard….. just before I passed them onto someone else 😊

I’ll keep the photos a while longer – not to remember the mugs – but as a memory of the recently departed friend who gave them to me.

In the cold of the very early morning I’m enjoying my first cup of tea and thinking of my ‘darling B’ ……she who lived such a gentle life, and left this world in a gentle sort of way. Settling down for the night, not waking in the morning – just as she would have liked. Quietly peacefully at ease.

She talked continuously about ‘ feeding the heart to nourish the soul ‘, introduced me to the concept of loving kindness and all it involved, lived a lifestyle practising what she preached many years before it became trendy. Gifting to me gave her as much joy as it gave me.

She had many friends who appreciated the quiet peaceful life she led, her ‘going away party’ was small and simple, limited by restrictions…..
but there’s another ‘friends as well as family’ gathering being planned for later….where she’ll be the centre of attention as we celebrate her life 😊❤️

Denyse is the host of Life this week  – do pop over
because you never know who you’ll see there.
Linking to Senior Salon – hosted by Esme
As the old advertising slogan goes:- You’ll never never know If you never never go!

ps – B even suggested the people I could pass the mugs on to.
pps – I live in the foothills of The Dandenongs. This is what went through

https://www.9news.com.au/national/weather-news-victoria-thousands-without-power-as-destructive-storms-lash-state/c36b2a57-3eb9-4178-90f4-f9eb9a455e9c

Cats Cats and more to be seen….

Did you know March 28 is Respect Your Cat Day?

Now I don’t normally do ‘picture posts’ two days in a row
But that’s the best excuse ever to ‘replay’ and enjoy some photos from 2014 trip 😊

Where we saw many families enjoying the fresh air.
Going about their business as normal

As well as those relaxing and enjoying grassy areas in ‘parks and gardens’


There were quiet solitary onlookers content to watch the world go by







As well as those who stood on guard

Or waited patiently


Or who had found comfort in being ‘close to you’

But the ones I liked best were the ones who looked you right in the eye
and said “we own this place – respect us and it”
The ancient city of Ephesus

So many cats with no obvious home – catch, desex and release was often spoken about but we sometimes wondered if it actually did happen.
This little one can tell you it does

(These are just a few – we saw many many more during that overseas trip)
All photos will enlarge with a click.

Sharing with #Sunday Stills – Respect Your Cat

Do flowers remind you of people

Are there flowers in your life that are reminders of others
 People you have known during your life or have heard stories about

My mother grew Sweet Peas
No matter where we lived she would always find a place to grow them
My sister (who lived close to her) told me she was still growing them the summer she had her first stroke
BUT
Try as I may and have often done so I cannot get them to grow
No idea why, but they shrivel up and die
Autumn sowing or Spring planting doesn’t matter which
They just do not thrive

My Dad had a favourite that he grew in most of our gardens.
His gardening was usually confined to veggies but there was one small plant he always had growing somewhere in the garden
Said it reminded him of his Mum – our Granny
Over the years both my sisters have grown it as well.
It’s a real sentimental favourite with us.

That bank that runs alongside our front drive is a difficult spot and I’ve lost count of the number of plants been tried there
 The Golfer cleared more dead and dying out a few years ago and I stuck some Erigeron – Seaside Daisy – around about here and there.
Cuttings of Arctosis and Trailing Lantana (not a weed here in Victoria) thrived there as well as a ground cover Geranium (Cranesbill)

2009

Tucked away in one little corner where none of those others seemed to grow
is where I put a small pot of Dad’s favourite

The smallest flowering plant in my garden and one of the most loved
Snow in Summer – Cerastium tomentosum.
Over the next few summers it took over over that corner

I loved it – that little plant with soft grey foliage and tiny white flowers


Then my back took control of my life.
As well as me that little front garden really suffered
Because I couldn’t get down to keep things in order (trim/ cut back/weed) it really got out of hand so for the time being the slope has been returned to grass

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

I’m just finishing off my first early morning cup of tea and thinking that as ‘the back’ is behaving itself quite well at the moment maybe I’ll have a go at redoing that slope.
Once Victoria has had its usual bucket load of Winter rains there’s no telling what might come about in Spring
It’s possible I’ll learn the secrets to growing Sweet Peas
But somehow I think that where that’s concerned, working this (discovered in the garage in a box of ‘might do one day’ things) cross stitch kit will be a better bet

Pop over to Denyse’s blog to see the latest edition of Life this week
Linking to #MondayMusings  hosted by Corrine at Everyday Gyaan

There’s always one…..

A long time ago (like back in the 1970/80s ) we’d gather the children together towards the end of November to take what we called our end of year breakup photo. It was a way of knowing there was at least one record of them all together each year…..copies were made and one went into each of the grandparents Christmas cards so they could see how much they’d grown during the year. (We were here in Melbourne- they were up there in the cold and often snowy UK). Anyway as is the norm someone would try to be funny….rabbit ears, tongues out, strange faces….


We did the same when grandchildren came along and as usual there’d be one who made a fuss. Or tried the tricks their parents did like little ‘bug eyed boy’

I was beginning to think it was a rerun of those days the other week trying to get a photograph of some cardigans before closing the ‘charity box’. The office had reopened so spent time checking seams (and buttons) getting things ready to send off. Strange I know but I do like to have a record of how most turn out, especially those engineered with pencil & paper (plus a few terse words) using a design from one pattern and sizing from another.
There’s the red one with the pockets finally finished, the grey cable has been done before, the royal blue is simply stocking stitch with a purl row on the right side every six rows (hard to see in that light) while the denim blue on the end was a definite pen/paper add /subtract job.

And just like with the children once you get them together they decided to have fun. Twisting this way and that, clothing disheveled, not looking at the camera, one even turned it’s back on me – lol I can assure you the rib band on the denim doesn’t droop and hang down like that but lies flat and even.

And for your…..’ ahhh aren’t they sweet’ moment…….here are some for the baby 12 month packs. Simple raglan mix and match – white always goes well with another soft colour which is good because it’s a great way to use up some half balls. And look….. the green/white striped one came good in the end.

It isn’t only ‘big kids’ who get to climb trees

So now that all of those cardigans plus quite a few more newborn size have finally made their way to Knit one Give one aka KOGO the time has come to concentrate on finishing some of the children’s jumpers on the go. And after that…..well take a look at this delightful photo of my (sadly late) blond curly haired little sister Patsy (aged about 3) forwarded to me a couple of weeks ago…….maybe just maybe, there might be some woolies coming up featuring little bunny rabbits 💕

It’s time for another cup of tea and a think about it.
My ‘word of the year’ is consider so I’ll have to think carefully about this one. Cardigans or Jumpers (sweaters). Size….can’t be too small or it will be dwarfed by the motif. Colour……practical for children in unknown circumstances or ‘soft and pretty’ because that’s what she was. I know there are graphs somewhere in amongst my patterns so guess what I’ll be doing today 😊😉

I’ve just had an (awful) thought…each of those children is now in their 50s and each of those grandchildren is in their 20s……so what does that make me???

Joining Denyse for the latest edition of Life this week – pop over and see how others fared.
Linking to #MondayMusings hosted by Corrine at Everyday Gyaan




Explore:- Travel, Investigate, Research,

Earlier in the year I read a book that definitely took my fancy.

The House between Tides…..Sarah Maine.
Her debut novel and one I’d definitely recommend.
Set in Scotland’s Outer Hebrides it’s centred around an old family home, a ‘crumbling mansion’ on an island that is only reached during low tides. Two timelines a century apart, two stories about the earlier inhabitants and the ‘last in the line’ who has come to explore the possibility of renovating and restoring the house to its earlier state only to discover it’s not as easy as she thought. Tucked into the storyline of an artist and his young wife, house parties, wildlife colonies, forbidden love, belligerent crofters, property rights plus a mysterious dead body are descriptions of sights and sounds of the island which catch you by surprise
The sand steamed slightly as the re-emergent sun turned the shallow pools into ripples of quicksilver”
so much so that they have you turning back the page to reread and savour again
BUT it was the access to the house at low tide that interested me.

Now most of you know that whenever possible we ‘winter in Queensland’ – Far North Queensland…… at a place called Bowen. Just offshore from Bowen, well within sight of the town is a small island, an island with a lighthouse – one of Queensland’s oldest!

A couple of times during winter the day time tides are low enough for a very special event – Bowen’s Walk to the Lighthouse. Read all about it HERE. It has become a well organised community event, a yearly fixture on the town’s calendar enjoyed by locals as well as many of the seasonal visitors.

The start is always at Dalrymple Point – where you can wander down and begin the trek across the sandbar or just stand around, explore the foreshore and watch the others enjoying the experience. Whichever you choose don’t forget the coral can be rough on feet so shoes of some sort are needed….not your best Sunday ones because your feet are going to get wet at some point .

What do they do once the walkers have reached the island – wander round the base of the hill, scramble up the hill to enjoy the view, take in their surroundings and
explore the lighthouse!

Turning around to come back to the mainland you meet up with streams of walkers young and old all coming the other way.
The walk takes about 2 hrs – a bit more if you stop along the way
You never know who you might meet and what you might see

These giant Red Starfish are a favourite find for those who look around and explore the shallows. But then they are not hard to find as they are there for all to see
when the sea level drops

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Some years we’d try to visit other parts of Queensland
spend time in places we’d normally just pass by on our 4 day drive north from home
or plan an actual road trip to places unseen before …off the beaten track
where you never know what’s round the corner

Places you decide ‘you must go to’
ones to get to – to explore – to appreciate- before it’s too late
Like the trip we took in 2012

Exploring the Undara Lava Tubes

I know this isn’t my usual ‘words only’ Monday Musings post but for me it fits in
perfectly with the suggested topic for Life this Week.
EXPLORE.
In some ways this pandemic is reminding us of roads previously travelled and places previously explored – I think it’s nearly time to start thinking about finding new ones.
Given the chance what are you up for next?

In the meantime perhaps you’d like to dip into some of those days.
https://cranethie.com/2012/09/12/so-where-do-we-begin/
https://cranethie.com/2012/10/03/light-at-the-end-of-the-tunnel/
https://cranethie.com/2012/10/10/butterflies-flowers-volcanoes-and-kangaroos/
https://cranethie.com/2012/11/28/who-got-a-surprise-at-mt-surprise/

You should find the photos will open/enlarge with a tap/click

Oh and pop over to Denyse Blogs to see how others are exploring

Monday Memories….

A few little photo memories just for Alien Resort

Burmese kittens are shorthaired and come in solid colours – Balinese (Longhaired Siamese)  are white with coloured ‘points’

Anna (Pennylane Bali Dancer) was a bluepoint Balinese, a lovely gentle soul.  Sitting here quietly surrounded  by some of her kittens and also some Burmese ones she seems to have a puzzled look on her face seemingly saying :-
Some of these are the wrong colour – wheres their Mother?

Belle (Brookwood Manet’s Delight) was a typical brown Burmese.  Soft and cuddly, devoted to me ( not interested in The Golfer) to the point of following me around even sitting outside the toilet door (or inside if she was fast enough).  Once she ‘got the hang of it’ she was a wonderful mother cat – although I think she was a bit overwhelmed by her first litter.

Her kittens only ever had two speeds – fast and hectic or zonked out and asleep.  They kept her (and me) on the go and as a protective ‘first time mum’ she often seemed to have a questioning look on her face as if asking me:-
Is it always like this?

Then there were other days with other litters when these fit and healthy, housetrained, fully vaccinated, fun loving pets would all sit together and pose like pros 😊

Boisterous – yes….. A handful- never!

Linking to Aww Mondays hosted by Sandee at Comedy Plus

Home alone on a Monday……

Yes, I’ve been home alone for the long weekend, the weekend of various Grand Final Football matches as well as various international matches. and the weekend the clocks do their annual ‘fall forward’ routine.  The Golfer is interstate for a volunteer comittment and I have been enjoying the freedom of being able to do what I like when I like with no questions asked lol

Mostly it’s been time spent outside enjoying some great Spring weather but also thinking and wondering about things.  Like how to get up and change the time on the wall clock and that mystery of mystery, how to change the time on the microwave – or how to cut off a tree branch that’s been bothering me and needs someone with a bit more muscle to do it – or how do I finish (without going to the shops) a small knitted cardigan with only one needle of the only set I had in that size (having sat on and broken the other plastic one) 😦

Wondering why we don’t wear our comfy well worn rubber thongs/flip flops to the shops – I always think of them as ‘house/garden/beach shoes’ and that’s where they should stay

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Wondering why this Australian King Parrot who turned up early one recent morning chose to spend time on the roof beam instead of the nearby trees

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More Monday Musings and Monday Memories
Also wondering why I can’t get the words to a song out of my mind.

There Must Be A Way sung by Joni James 1959
Words and Music by ~ Sammy Gallop, David Saxon and Robert Cook

Back in 1959 when it was re-released in the UK (Joni James version) I was a heartbroken 16yr old because I’d been ‘dumped’ by a really nice boy and I ‘related’ to every word of the lyrics. That memory popped into my mind recently when listening to a radio discussion on ‘young people and their love lives’ and reappeared the other day when I was wandering about telling myself ‘ there must be a way’ to do that branch 🙂

Enjoy and reminisce over those teenage years with me

There must be a way to help me forget that we’re through
There must be a way to stop me from dreamin’ of you
There must be a star in the skies that isn’t reflecting your eyes
I just don’t know how to disguise how much I miss you

There must be a song that doesn’t remind me of you
There must be a kiss that’ll thrill me like yours used to do
I look for a way to be happy, happy with somebody new
Oh, there must be a way but I can’t find a way without you

There must be a way to help me forget that we’re through
There must be song that doesn’t remind me of you
I look for a way to be happy, happy with somebody new
Oh there must be a way but I can’t find the way without you

How’s your Monday going?  Hope it’s a good one for you when it arrives.
I also hope to do some ‘visiting’ this week, see you soon.