R's rue

Slog

Life

The battlefield

That requires

Multiple sets

Of batteries

Amp up courage

Dial up patience

Success is

A slog

That demands

Everything you have

Even on

Off days

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Pastry

Mr Pastry advertising "Guinness" in 1956

In its infancy and in my opinion, television output was pretty poor. Look how far it has come in seven decades. For some reason, a British TV character called Mr Pastry appeared in my mind today. I remember him vaguely from the last years of the fifties into the sixties. Played by Richard Hearne, Mr Pastry was a clownish figure whose act harked back to the antics of other clownish characters who appeared in silent films between the wars.

Mr Pastry was more about what he did than what he said. He was very popular and even appeared on "The Ed Sullivan Show" in America. It is claimed that Hearne was once offered the role of Dr Who but that offer was withdrawn when he insisted that he would play the famous Time Lord like bumbling Mr Pastry. Richard Hearne was born in Norwich in 1908 and died in Bearsted, Kent in 1979. He also appeared in seventeen full length films. I guess the number of people who can recall his famous television show is dwindling with each passing year.

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Obese Camel et al….

While my sisters threw and painted their own creations at pottery , I got on with painting my old creations before glazing.

The finished articles will look rather different but I’ve gone pastel for my hilly letter rack and desert coloured for my obese camel .

Janet, is a true talent , this is her beach hut

Next week I start my chess set

I’m back on the diet and am trying just a veg Korean detox.

I’ll start again tomorrow

Sister Ann brought me a lamb casserole tonight

So today’s T shirt is a lie

Tee hee

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Monday

Fight

Never surrender

You’ve come too far

To let it all fall

Rise up

On the anchor

On which

Faith rests

Now and forever

He doesn’t forsake

He doesn’t leave

That’s reason enough

To not retreat

And give

The enemy

Your victory

Remember the strength

Of your ancestors

Slava Ukraini

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A Bobble Hat As Tall As A Bishop’s Mitre

It was just after four I think when the tolling Church bell woke me up

I felt disorientated for a while and lay there thinking of why it was doing so.

It took me a while to remember it was the Church’s last day as a functioning Church and that the last service was perhaps coinciding with the bell ringing of St Paul’s and other Churches across the country in support of Ukraine.

The congregation was small given that the Bishop was officiating , but I wasn’t surprised given the fact that he had not supported that the Church be given Pilgrim Status as we had requested.

A lot of the those supporters had kept away.

I only know this because I checked St Michael’s page of Facebook

Mrs Trellis was there though , her bobble hat erect as always.

It was almost as tall as the Bishop’s Mitre

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Grandparenting

Phoebe at Lodge Moor children's play area this afternoon

We looked after Little Phoebe for the last three days. Her mama and papa were down in Devon in the south west of England to attend an old school friend's wedding.

Caring for our little granddaughter was not an onerous task. In fact, it was quite delightful - she is such a sweet child and she brings us much joy. I put her to bed both nights and she soon settled. After all, she was tired. I read her a book called "The Green Sheep" and helped her to imbibe a beaker full of cow's milk. After a little restlessness, she was soon settled and went off to slumberland like a yachtswoman sailing out of a sunlit harbour.

This weekend she laughed and clapped when she managed to walk without assistance between the two of us. Just three or four steps at a time. You see Phoebe - there's no need to hang on to us like a limpet - you can do it yourself girl!

And we read her books, bathed her, fed her, changed her nappy and wiped her mouth. That's something she hates with a vengeance, protesting madly whenever Shirley brings the warm flannel to bear upon her mucky chops. It's really quite funny.

When her mother and father returned at about 5pm on Sunday, the reunion was not as happy as we had expected. She had just woken up from a nap and was a little confused. "Who are these people Grandpa?" It took a little while to touch base once more and there were untypical tears but soon she was as right as rain and after Sunday dinner went home very happily.

"Hello, hello. What's your name?

My name is Phoebe.

My name is Grandpa.

Nice to meet you!"