Armstrong Siddley

That's me and my mother in the photo on the blog-header, with Dad's car, back in 1963 or thereabouts. Dad  brought home the lovely old 'jalopy' one evening right out of the blue, I remember my mum wasn't too pleased and she refused to  ride in it for a couple of days.  I don't even recall how he came by it...it just arrived, in spite of us being impoverished at the time, hence mum's disapproval.  My brother and I went out with him that evening for a drive and I nearly wet myself laughing because not yet being used-to the clutch and gears Dad did 'kangaroo petrol' down the road.   He was embarrassed I think, because he shouted and looked stern which only made me want to laugh more, you know how it is?  Like when you're in the library right beneath the sign that says, 'Silence' and your mate cracks a joke about the librarians stuffiness.

I think I'm about fourteen in this photo...get a load of those jeans!!  You can just about see a little of the lovely old car.  Winding windows and a real wooden steering-wheel, no winking indicators either, they were the original little pointy-amber-hands clunking out like ears from the side behind the rear doors.  I loved that old car.  We felt 'posh' whenever we went out in it, in spite of a few mishaps we had in it.  Like the front wheel bowling off down the road on it's own, leaving Mum and Dad unharmed, though she never got over having to come home on the bus in her fluffy house-slippers!  She'd gone out quickly without a coat and hadn't changed into outdoor shoes.  Then the exhaust fell off completely on a trip to Yorkshire when were carrying an esteemed visitor from France and we had to drive home with the car sounding like a World War Two tank that certainly made an impression we didn't wish to repeat!

Okay.........

If you're wondering what to buy your best friend, your mum your sister, your granny, your daughter,

your grand-daughter, your neighbour, your collegue,your old school friend,your girl-friend,

your wife,your partner, your secret Santa, that nice lady

at the Post-office who is the only one with a smile, the mother of your son/daughter's

friend at school, the girl who serves your cappacino at Starbucks,

in fact absolutely everyone.  I guarantee they will be

enchanted by this book.  It is crammed with delightful paintings, little

sketches of everyday travels and touches of brilliance, they will not be disappointed

it's entrancing........

enchanting........

a lovely jewel of a book.

Totally original and as one reader describes....

'a one-of-a-kind experience'!

Go on....buy it ....you know you want to!!

'Wow,

a year.  A long time, but only in retrospect.

It's short while your're living it,

when you don't know if it ends

today or tomorrow or next month.'

-What Remains-  Carole Radziwill  

A page from last year's journal at Christmas time.  This is the first year ever that I'm organised!  Welcome 

sunshine on waking this morning.  So welcome after all the torrential rain we have all been experiencing

recently.  Cor! it doesn't half brighten your feelings.  Trouble is it sneaks around the corners of rooms you haven't dusted for months and glints amongst the tumble-weeds of fluff! 

Sitting with a black coffee this morning, from the corner of my eye I saw a flash of grey amongst the dying, rain soaked leaves.  Like a grey ghost a squirrel moved sinuously. Silently.  Weaving like silver mist in and out amongst the hydrangea bushes, pausing for seconds to test the air.  I clearly saw his small black glinting eyes, his gossamer tail arched and his tiny, sniffing nose.  He moved like a breath, barely stirring the grasses.  Beside me, the tabby cat also saw him.  She crouched low, mesmerized, perfectly still, watching him move towards the dark heart of the garden.  Then in one sleek movement she left through the cat-flap and seconds later she disappeared into the long grasses and the rain soaked autumn leaves.

'The bad news is time flies,

The good news is, you're the pilot.

-Michael Althsuler-

Something about polka-dots...

seems to go in through the eyes and then whizz around.  I can't pin down exactly just why, it jogs something somewhere way back in the long ago.

Most of the shadows of this life

are caused by our standing

in our own sunshine.

-Ralph Waldo Emerson-

'Be kind to your shadow.'

-Rebecca Lawley-

 

And today Armistice Day

Ninety one years ago today the First World War ended, the guns fell silent, and at the eleventh hour, on the eleventh day, in the eleventh month we remember the sacrifice of all those who died, not only in the first World war but in all the wars since across the world.

'Sleep well:  for I can follow you to bless

And lull your distant beauty where you roam;

And with wild songs of hoarded loveliness

Recall you to these arms that were your home.'

Siegfried Sassoon