poshbirdy

Wit, Wisdom and Winnie the Pooh

I am flattered to have been nominated for the quote challenge again, this time by Osyth of Half Baked in Paradise, whose posts I always look forward to. She used wonderful quotes in her own blog, quotes which express the beauty and depth of love and life. I have, as she did, also invented my own ‘rules’ to work with here. Please do take a look at Osyth’s post

https://osyth.wordpress.com/2016/02/12/saving-the-trouble-of-thinking-for-oneself/

The last time I took this challenge I realised what an abundance of witty and insightful quotes we can call upon, and all without paying royalties! I had trouble whittling down the quotes for the three day format, and eventually I chose a few which resonated and had just enough in common to mesh together. So excuse me if I over-indulge again today

Last time’s efforts were:

https://poshbirdyblog.wordpress.com/2015/11/13/like-a-rabbit-in-the-headlights-winstonisms/

https://poshbirdyblog.wordpress.com/2015/11/14/3-days-3-quotes-how-not-to-be-a-quitter/

https://poshbirdyblog.wordpress.com/2015/11/15/one-mans-humour-is-another-mans-squirming-discomfort/

An additional quote on Osyth’s post was from A.A. Milne’s ‘A Record Lie’, an essay I had never read, but which I immediately typed into Google. I would suggest that anyone reading this post does the same. It holds a real truth and it decided for me the quotes I would include here:

“The world is a dangerous place, not because of those who do evil, but because of those who look on and do nothing” – Albert Einstein, all-round genius

“The welfare of the people in particular has always been the alibi of tyrants” – Albert Camus, French Philosopher

and perhaps the most poignant right now….

“Change will not come if we wait for some other person or some other time. We are the ones we’ve been waiting for. We are the change that we seek” – Barack Obama, President of the US

………………………………………………………………………..

Of course, one could look at the above quotes and think this a rather grave post so let me provide an antidote in the form of three further quotes, courtesy of A.A. Milne’s Winnie the Pooh and perfect for an upcoming St Valentine’s Day:

“Sometimes,’ said Pooh, ‘the smallest things take up the most room in your heart”

“Promise me you’ll never forget me because if I thought you would, I’d never leave”

“How do you spell ‘love’?” – Piglet “You don’t spell it…you feel it.” – Pooh

Through no fault of their own, I nominate the following bloggers for this challenge:

Coteetcampagne https://coteetcampagne.wordpress.com

who, like me, loves all things old and troubled and beautiful

Colin Bisset http://colinbisset.wordpress.com

great thoughts on architecture, and I want to know more

Just Midlife https://justmidlife.wordpress.com

who I have only just started following, and who has already made me smile (P.S. Oops, how embarrassing as I realise that Suzy took this challenge just over a week ago, so please ignore this!)

All are well worth a visit

The ultimate romantic gesture

I have allowed my face to be moulded and ‘splodged’ in latex, come face to face with myself made out of plaster of Paris (a very strange experience) and been photographed throughout as C did weird stuff to me towards her Art GCSE. But I long for the time and space to do my own projects and I fear the time slipping past

When my ‘big’ birthday arrived in September there were generous gifts of chocolates, money and booze – many and varied booze(s), in fact – and an extravagant evening out. So imagine my delight when Baz, the love of my life, presented me with his gift

A gas-fuelled soldering iron/ blow torch

Jason at work compared this to the time when his dad gave his mum a set of saucepans one Christmas (apparently she was livid – imagine!). But for me this little beauty is just what I will need to repair my Jugendstil chandelier, and to experiment with countless other glass and metal projects I have in mind

Ah, the fun I will have…

But more than that, I believe this gift is Baz’s way of saying ‘It doesn’t bother me that you fill our lives with unco-ordinated tat that needs mending. It’s OK that you never want nice modern things like other people.’

It’s obviously his full acceptance of my obsession with old crap and therefore a licence for me to continue to attempt to resurrect dying things, and perhaps even finish a project one day

At least that is what I get from it. Am I wrong?

New York’s Ground Zero

Charlotte and I enjoyed a trip to New York in April 2015. Skimming through the pictures, I was reminded of how peaceful and beautiful the memorial is at Ground Zero, and how impressed we were by itThe expanses of glass on the main building create fascinating reflections The waterfalls are mesmerising and the light plays in them as you watch. The names of the lost are engraved around the top of the pools with touching tributes left along the wayThere is a real feeling of peace contrasting with dynamism. I had been sceptical about visiting this memorial to so many people but was utterly moved

The Savoy Still Sparkles

Baz picked up a ‘Groupon’ for Kaspars Grill at the Savoy. Even more than the food, I was aching to visit such an art deco icon. We tubed it to Green Park and took a walk first, past the Ritz and down through St James (we’re such tourists!)

My ‘Rivoli Bar’ shot

We passed Rowleys with its sumptuous tiling. Then we stopped for a pint at the Admiralty on Trafalgar Square to start the evening

We’re told this is the only right hand drive road in the UK

The Savoy is of course a landmark. Inside it is a grand space, but the intimate seating areas and changes of floor level and finish, make it feel cosy as you pass through. It was tempting to sit and try every grouping, every corner

Over a glass of champagne, we ordered scallops, ceviche, chargrilled halibut and a cod loin served with poached egg, followed by heavenly desserts. Despite the voucher it really wasn’t a cheap night out!

Perhaps what really grabbed me was the use of glass. There were mirrors, glass sculptures and lighting everywhere. It was glamorous and opulent, as it should be

Our cameras sat upon our table, and a waiter was surprised to see that I have a Canon while Baz has a Nikon. Oddly enough, it was Baz who always had Canons until he bought this camera., whereas I bought my first Nikon at 18 years old and remained loyal until I tried a Canon at a photographic event in Yellowstone Park and found it very user-friendly. They are both entry-level cameras and our first digital SLRs . The results we get are often very different, mainly because of our approaches. The top photos illustrate this quite well

We wandered past the stately Simpsons as we left, and felt the fairly hostile night-time atmosphere of the Strand as we headed to Charing Cross for the journey home

Baz snapped a deli on the Strand. The staff were still at work and the interior looked cosy and inviting. Both of us felt this was our favourite shot of the night

I borrowed this atmospheric deli shot from Baz

the cowboy photo

Cowboy Picture doctored — Excuse the dreadful editing!

This is one of those photos that always makes me smile. We were obliged to attend an industry ‘do’ over ten years ago. We didn’t know anyone. It was a barn dance. For us it sounded like a disastrous night and we were absolutely dreading it

We arrived dutifully dressed in denim, suede and appropriate hats, but the room was full of rather stiff people, none of whom had made any attempt to dress up. They were not feeling it. We were definitely not feeling it. The room had no atmosphere and the first half an hour was excruciating. It looked like being a very long and very quiet night

Then a guy burst in to the room, dressed as a cowboy and firing his toy guns overhead. With him was a pantomime horse (two men, fully committed to the role and the costume) which reared its head and loudly clacked its teeth. Baz and I were in stitches by then, but the rest of the room barely even acknowledged the newcomers and joylessly lined up at the buffet. It felt as if the other guests were almost offended that someone had decided to have some fun with the theme, and did not appreciate ‘that sort of behaviour’

Needless to say, the man and his horse came and sat with us. For much of the evening both top and bottom halves of the horse wore their costumes, though it must have been stifling inside the head, particularly. Our table was impossibly loud and raucous. As the evening wore on someone pointed out that all the people at the surrounding tables had moved away and were either perched on windowsills or had crowded onto other tables. We had a blast despite – or perhaps because of – the disapproving looks from all around us, and were nearly persuaded to go out clubbing with the gunfighter and his steed, but we chose to retire after a very heavy night’s drinking, dancing and laughter

It was one of our better decisions. The next morning we saw them after breakfast. They looked even worse than we did, having gate-crashed a wedding party at the same hotel, staying until they were ejected at 4am

Normally I hate photos at events like this, but we became friends that night and, let’s face it, it’s not often that you get to have your photo taken with a pantomime horse, so we went for it. The picture tends to resurface regularly when I feel slightly under-par, and it reminds me of a hilariously bad night out with great company

Plumber (smiley face) Me (sad face)

Hubby has told me to remove this, so have done so

(haven’t mastered WordPress yet!)

‘Vibrant’ – the Weekly Photo Challenge

There’s a vase of yellow roses in the living room. I love the abstracts that flowers give and they are a wonderful colour, so I thought I’d try the ‘Vibrant’ Photo Challenge for the first time. Here goes…

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/photo-challenges/vibrant/

Gerty’s Gorgeous Green Gifts

After a five month sabbatical, Gertrude has decided to lay again. This is a real joy as her eggs are not only very delicious, but very beautiful too. They have a colour which defies green and a texture that makes eggshell sound way too ordinary. An egg from Gerty is something to touch and to hold, a photo waiting to be taken

The closest colour I can find is Farrow and Ball’s French Gray. Though they are slightly paler, they have exactly the same balance of colours

Once, due to the girls taking meds we were not allowed to eat her eggs for 28 days. At that time she was laying every day so I stockpiled the eggs. They looked amazing as a group, but eventually I threw them out for fear of someone dropping the bowl!

They make a lovely half dozen, don’t they?

Watching and Waiting/ the French Fear

There’s something about the front bedroom on our second floor, known for good reason as the bedroom with the head in a bag. I have noticed that people are inevitably drawn to throw open the right-hand window and shutter when they go in there, even though this room is every bit as derelict as the rest of the house. Actually, I realise as I write this, it’s probably because there is no electricity in there and so no light. Aha! Now it all makes sense …

Except the head, which wasn’t a head at all in the end, but was and is still in a paper bag

Despite the impressive three-storey ~~leak~~ indoor water feature over our stairway we keep the house as secure and weatherproof as possible. So, when a friend texted me in December that this window was left open and the curtain was billowing – the builders had been in to measure up – another friend kindly went to the rescue and closed it for me

In the loft there are the signs and smells of a vast previous pigeon infestation. When I originally viewed the house I only saw one pigeon up there, but there were eggs too, and so I assumed the worst. I love birds but we could not co-habit. Yet when I returned in August the same eggs were still there and there was something resembling a very dead bird, sort of squished on the floor. The problem was thereby unintentionally solved, and we remain to date a pigeon-free zone

When the builder came to meet me he predictably threw open the window and shutter in question (again), and the sound of pigeons was immediately audible. There were three, lined up on the window ledge directly opposite and peering intently at us, just waiting for someone to make a mistake and provide access to their well-appointed former abode

Some days later as I waited outside for my lift to the airport, I looked up and three of them were again lurking and watching from the loft windowsill, in a pigeon two-fingered salute

There is a fear called ‘Anatidaephobia’, described by M. Google as ‘a pervasive, irrational fear that one is being watched by a duck’ . Disappointingly I now understand that this is an invented condition, though C still claims she has it. It is completely separate from ‘Ornithophobia’, a fear of birds in general, which no-one in our household – not even Mlle C – suffers from (it would make chicken-keeping a challenge)

There is no shortage of pigeons or of semi-derelict properties, particularly in France. Perhaps it’s just me, but I feel there must be a recognised fear of pigeons waiting for you to screw up and leave a window open so that they can get back into your house

The Mighty Quinn – my first ‘pet’ spider?

The only water tap at the house is over a massive stone laundry sink in the furthest part of the garage, and the installation of this tap was greatly anticipated because we had no water source at all when we arrived at the house in August

Quinnsite — I was too scared to include my finger in the pic for scale

Arriving at midnight for my first solo visit in October, I was none too happy (terrified, actually) to discover that an enormous spider lives on the windowsill above this tap. On the first morning when I went to get water he marched right out of his web and across the sill to take a look at me. I dropped the empty bottle I was holding, and backed off in a cold sweat

waterbottlessite — All empty – time to say ‘Rebonjour’ to Quinn

I calmed down when he returned to the entrance to his web, where he remained for the rest of that week, observing me

With no way of getting around the water situation – I needed to fill bottles with at least 25 litres a day for flushing the loo, cleaning myself and the house and for making camomile tea – I could not avoid at least one visit a day to the sink of terror. So I reminded myself that he was here first, and to curb my extreme fear I named him ‘Quinn’. Through the week greeted him each morning and evening as my fellow resident, nattering away to him in French as I leaned over the tap

As a coping mechanism the friendly approach worked. I am not crazy enough to imagine that it was social interaction for ‘Quinn’ and for the whole week I didn’t take my eyes off this huge ancient spider faded to a shade of dark blond (did I actually just make a spider sound like Brad Pitt?), but I was no longer so scared and was at times actually glad of the company

Charlotte was horrified to hear about my regular chats with him, until she saw his photo – it’s hard not to be impressed by him. When I returned from my January visit she was as disappointed as I was that there had been no sign of him at the entrance to his web. I hope he’s OK and hasn’t decided to move on from his comfy domain. I have tried to be a good housemate

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