A few days ago, I showed you our top food tip for this time of year – wild garlic. The local sheep disagree. For them, nothing beats a mangelwurzel, and this sheep here is jealously guarding her pile of them. This time, I have no recipes to share, top or otherwise. Sorry.
The other day we got this postcard in the post. It’s from a friend, deciding against constant Social Media communication in favour of something a little more personal. It’s a lovely idea which I plan on copying. There’s just one problem. We can’t read the signature, and we don’t recognise the handwriting – who does any more in these days of emails?
Who is our Mystery Friend?*
* Clue. We don’t think it’s Jonah. Or the whale.
Scarecrows are appearing all over our village. Not to scare any crows, but to say ‘Thank you’. Thank you to all NHS and care workers, to shopkeepers and assistants, to delivery drivers … to everyone in the front line, helping us, and helping patients. Here’s one, chosen because it’s atop the fence, making sure that all of us who pass by take notice, and are grateful.
Could the Top Conker in next autumn’s playground conker fights be growing, deep within these tightly furled buds? Maybe. We shall never know.
It’s time for Jude’s 2020 Photo Challenge again, and this week, she’s asking us to focus on the vertical. It’s not surprising that I’m heading for cityscapes on the whole: though not entirely. I wanted to have something for #15 Squaretops too – so look out for a topsy-turvy image at the bottom of the post.
Here are two riverside skyscrapers: quite similar. But I like the way that in one – in Seville, on the Guadalquivir – the upward sweeping lines are emphasised by its reflection rippling on the waters beneath: and in the other – in London, on the Thames – it’s the contrast with the blocky cranes that does the job.
Then I chose a couple from Cádiz. Palm trees. In one the tall palms lead your eyes to the – rather small – moon, and in the other, two wayward palms making an impromptu arch contrast with the properly upright trees they’re next to.
Back in London, Greenwich actually, the standing figures echo the massed skyscrapers of modern 21st century London.
And I liked this shot from Warsaw. The vertical lines aren’t all that pronounced, but still lead you up to those precariously perched window cleaners.
Finally, an image (square of course) taken on the Leeds-Liverpool Canal near Gargrave. Have you noticed it’s upside down? Topsy turvy? That’s the water up above, and the trees and sky down below.
An extra post today. Those of you who’ve followed me for a while know about my daughter Ellie: about her husband Phil who died from cancer, four years ago tomorrow, and about her twin boys, then aged 10. About her own cancer diagnosis and treatment more or less immediately after. I re-blogged several of her posts, and you followed her story through her own treatment, surgery and recovery. Now she has something to say about living in this strange new world where coronavirus and the fear of it dominates our lives. Please read it.
When my husband was dying, one of the things that bothered him the most was that people stopped bothering him. We were always the last to find out about our friends’ separations, pain in the arse teenagers, or warring families. And when we did find out, we’d always get the same response:
“But our problems are nothing compared to yours.”
To which my husband would reply:
“And my problems don’t suddenly make yours go away.”
He was right. Yes, perspective is a wonderful thing, but it usually grows from trauma. I’m a better person now than I’ve ever been before, simply because I value all the things I used to take for granted. Like being alive. Or having a cuddle with the man I love. Or owning a full set of tits. So, it felt completely wrong to find myself struggling with the impending fourth anniversary of my husband’s…
View original post 1,265 more words
If you were a venerable wooden post along a country track, wouldn’t you feel quite the top banana to be sporting a topknot like this?
… and Happy Easter, or whatever hard-boiled pirates and cabin boys say to each other on Easter morning.
Since we can’t see William and Zoë today, we’ve given their decorated eggs to the little boys next door. They’re going to the top of a hill later, to roll the eggs down, in time-honoured Easter fashion.
From Pyrenees to Pennines 
You must be logged in to post a comment.