Tea and yarns

 I went to my favourite tea room in Brigg today, Shipley's Curiositeas.  It's vaguely World War II themed but whatever the decor, the food and drink is delicious and home cooked.

There was a glorious hanging basket outside.  

There was a poster advertising the yarn bombing in the window but Curiositeas has itself been yarn bombed.  

And a knitted afternoon tea inside!

The (Indoor) tree in March

 It was still a bit parky at the beginning of February so I left the woolly hats from January on the tree.  We've recently had several lovely days here and, whilst I don't think winter is over, I am happy to redecorate the tree.

March is, for me, St Patrick's month, as his day is 17th March, so I have gone for a Irish theme. 

St Patrick famously used a shamrock to explain the Trinity so shamrock became his emblem.  Somehow, though, the shamrock has morphed into a four leaf clover!  It was quite hard to find trefoils to decorate my tree.  Anyway, I found some proper shamrock (not this aberration!) mixed in with leprechaun hats and pots of gold at the end of rainbows.  

Happy Birthday!

 

It's Jack's birthday.  He has come to visit me as he knows he will get one of his favourite breakfasts (bacon butties) if he comes here.

That might look like some sort of chocolate cake to you, but Jack had said he didn't want a cake.  Instead I made a batch of ducks and put birthday candles in them.  He was quite happy with that.

I also knitted him a new hat so he can proclaim himself to be a supporter of Lincoln City.  And that book he's holding is the history of Lincoln City Football Club.  They are doing rather well this season.

Happy Birthday, Jack.

(He's 83.  I was probably not supposed to tell you that.  Tee hee.)

Brigg's been yarn bombed again!

 Yesterday afternoon was the loveliest afternoon since last summer so I decided to run a few errands.  Including going to Brigg.  What a lovely surprise!

Royal Mail has taken on a Dalek to collect the post.

The pub is offering woolly hospitality.  (Non Brits: "Walkers" is a leading brand of crisps/chips.)

The snake seems to be thirsty too.

All season hanging baskets.

The last one is my favourite.  It might not look much to you but four elderly gentlemen sit on this bench each morning, sipping coffee and watching the world go by.  They are a bit of a local landmark.  Somebody has captured them perfectly in crochet.  

Alzheimer's disease

When I went to the COWs lunch yesterday I sat next to a lady who has Alzheimer's disease.  She is a wonderful woman: she has been a headteacher and a magistrate but that dreadful disease is robbing her of her dignity.    Another friend fetches her from home and we sit either side of her, making sure H doesn't wander off or purloin the cutlery.   The other ladies are glad she can still come but are also glad that someone else will sit next to her and take care of her.

Today I am going out to lunch with another friend who also has Alzheimer's.  J isn't as far advanced with the disease as is H but the conversation may become a little bizarre.

I have other friends whom I would like to visit but I just send cards or letters or make phone calls.  I wish I could do more, but the bottom line is that the person's for whose health I have most responsibility, is me.  

Please don't think I spend all my life as a ministering angel, but I have also been a carer myself for someone with dementia and I remember the gratitude and relief I felt when someone else visited and gave me a little time for myself.  It's just that two such meetings occurred on consecutive days and they have left me thinking.  I know my friend is slipping away and I want us to make the most of each other for as long as we can.  

I have to admit there is quite a bit of selfishness in this: I hope that if the time comes when I am housebound, others will remember and care about me.  

COWS

 No, not that sort of cows! Companions On the Wolds, if you please.  

This group has been running for several years and started as a social group for widows.    Although I am not a widow, I tag along as a chaplain.  Not much pastoring is needed from me as these lovely ladies take the newly bereaved under their wings and do mutual caring, but still, I think I am useful to have around.  

They meet monthly.  A meal is often part of the programme but sometimes they do crafts or go on visits.  Pottery painting and a garden visit are on the agenda in the next few months but today we just went to the local golf club for lunch.  

There's a Knit and Natter group as an off shoot as well.  The K & N group also includes quite a few ladies who aren't widows.  I don't often go to their meetings but I do knit for them.  They send items to various charities.  My particular interest is the Salvation Army in their work with homeless people.  I knit scarves for them, bu others knit blankets, teddies, and anything else we are asked for.

Something gained and retained

It was five years ago, in February 2021, that the pandemic started to finish for me.  I went to Louth and had my first vaccination against Covid 19.  It was quite a while before I ventured out very much but it became possible to do far more things.

But as I moved into the new era I wondered what would have been gained and what would have been lost as a result of that dreadful disease.  So many lives had been lost and many of us had well over a year of relative isolation.

During that time we learned new skills.  I learned to do far more on line.  We had on line classes, we had to get used to on line banking and shopping and we learned to "visit" one another on line.  I still lead a weekly worship on line.

But I had to learn to use Zoom and Facetime and the like to communicate with family and friends.  My knitting group (none of our members is in the first flush of youth) held fortnightly sessions to knit and natter.

And I think that is something I have gained and retained.  This morning I will be having a face-to-face (on line) meet up with a friend in Leicester.  For many years we just met up twice a year, and we still do that, but now we have a monthly catch up with each of sitting in our favourite chairs at home.  

And last night I chatted with a friend who is on a cruise ship off the coast of Brazil.

Maulifuffing check-in

It's nearly six weeks since I mentioned maulifuffing but I'm sure many of you have been doing your best for the great sisterhood.  (New readers may not know that maulifuff is an old Scottish word for a woman devoid of energy, who would happily do nothing for hours on end or a woman who appears to keep herself busy but achieves nothing.  The masculine equivalent is maulibum.)  

Even longer ago I said one of my hibernaculum projects would be to sort the dining room.  In the proud tradition of maulifuffs the intention was good but the activity was zilch.  Or rather, there was a lot of activity in dumping more and more stuff in there.

So, for the next seven Mondays, I shall do a maulifuff report of how little I have achieved.  On present showing, it will be very little.  But I may raise a few rueful smiles.