The Mantle Shelf

It’s been a busy week with not much coming up in Facebook Archives.

5 August 2020

The anniversary bouquet Ferretfingers gave us needed sorting out (the lilies had dropped all their petals) and I remembered the elephant toby jug I'd had on top of the dresser for years.

(It cost me £2.50 in Pinocchio's sale in Monument Mall.)

I realised the little mantle shelf is the perfect home for all those smaller elephants that have been almost invisible on top of the dresser for such a long time

By the way, I have enough elephants. 

It's a thing between me and Henffrind since we left school. 

Similarly penguins is a thing between me and Squireen since the Falklands Crisis.   

And lambs/sheep from my siblings (due to mother calling me her Little Pet Lamb for far too long).

Unless in medium of chocolate, which I can eat, or soap, which I can put in my drawers or shower with.

I only pointing this out because Fester's eyes lit up when he saw them and he said 

"Oh, I'm sure Ferretfingers and I can find some in charity shops" 

and I had to be quite firm.   

We've had to have Delft racks put up since he learnt I like blue & white china.

Mrs Leftfoot you would be proud!

 

The Journey

The Coven 2014

In my second year at university I moved into 16E Richardson Road and formed friendships which last to this day.

Ten years ago we, and other chaplaincy friends decided to get together twice a year in different towns around the country and, except in the time of pestilence, have done so.  

When we met in Newcastle Mr Jeremy dubbed us The Coven.

Sadly we lost Paula in 2019.

From Facebook Archives

5 August 2019 at 20:24 ·

Tomorrow I'm off on a big adventure. 

Driving to Kew on my own.   

It will be bittersweet as I'll be meeting Paula's brother at her flat to collect the things she's left for me and DrD.   

Thing is I've never driven in/through London before.  

I mentioned this to Middle Sister in the weekly phone-call on Sunday and she said 

"Oh you'll be fine…You've driven all over the place…And on your own too." 

I had to smile because she's never learnt to drive and, although she's an intelligent and capable woman, has low self-confidence and suffers from anxiety.  But she's full of confidence about my ability.  

I've printed out maps, road numbers and directions so I should be ok. 

I've used my Nectar points to buy the petrol, and an 8p per litre off voucher.   

Only it wouldn't scan, and typing the code off didn't work either.

"None of these vouchers work" said the fed-up woman in the kiosk "Tell you what, I'll give you 10p off as that's easier to work out."

Who am I to argue with that?

Bess Cavalier Good luck, just take it steady and stop frequently. Which way are you planning to go?

Bentonbag  M1, North Circular, Chiswick High Road, Kew Road, then via Lionsgate Gardens to Lower Mortlake Road.  Fortunately I've wandered around there on foot with Paula, so I've a vague idea of where I'm heading.

Bess Cavalier  I'd stop for a break at Scratchwood services - think they may be called London Gateway now - at the bottom of the M1 before hitting the North Circular.  

If the traffic is bad it could take you some time to get round to Kew.  When Mrs Eft, 

Mrs Fitz and I came home that way last September it took us at least an hour to get back to the M1 from Paula's.

The Niece Well done, remembering the roads is the hardest bit so you'll be fine 👏

Kippa Visit the gardens and relax. On the sunny side of the Pagoda. If the sun is too hot just wander round to the other side.

Mrs Quilt I hadn’t realised that your journey had come round so soon. Your usual good sense will carry you through.  If you do go to the gardens try to visit the Marianne North Pavilion for the paintings. It is gloriously OTT.safe. journey there and back

Mrs Mobilephone Have you got a sat nav? X

Ms Allottment  I have a spare Sat nav I could drop off for you if you would find it helpful. It's not easy to read print outs when you are driving, and there may be road works or other unexpected stuff. Just let me know

DrE  Be prepared for people to sound their horns at you lots!!!  If you find any bondage ribbon the coven may like it if no-one else wants it.  Fond memories.

Two days later

Bentonbag I only got one toot!  Thank you everyone - I managed it!  There were really only 4 road numbers to remember M1, A406 (North Circular Road heading west), A205 Chiswick High Road/Kew Road, A307 Kew Road and once I was at Kew Gardens I knew the way.  Doing it backwards coming home was a bit more of a challenge but I was up and out before 7.30 so traffic was light.  Directional signs and road markings were excellent.

DrE

With the jam-pan, aka cauldron

, sadly the bondage ribbons have gone - unless they're in DrD's box - shall I have a look?

DrE  Leave it and perhaps DrD will have a surprise!! Paula’s mum's jam pan has been well used this summer

Bentonbag  I have Bigg Bear (16E's 21st birthday gift to her) and just made the mistake of breathing in just above his head.  The scent of her flat lingers on him. Tears.

 

Forty Years Ago Today

From Facebook Archives

8 August 2023 at 09.20

4 August 1983 Uncle Walter died.

The next summer I arranged to go to Mass with Auntie Edna on his anniversary.

4 August 1984 the phone rang very early for a Saturday (8.30ish).

It was Mum.   

Dad had had a serious heart attack, was in the High Dependancy Unit of Glangwili Hospital and I should come home in case the worst happened.

The next hour or so was a whirl of phoning and packing.

First the hardest: Aunty Ed to say I couldn't go to mass with her as her much loved brother-in-law was gravely ill.

Then someone I worked with to let them know I wouldn't be in on Monday, and I didn't know when I would be.

My flatmate (the Squireen) saying "You'd better take your wellies, you may need to go for a long walk down the river."

Onto the No1 bus down to Central Station.

This was before privatisation when you didn't have to take out a mortgage for a walk-on long distance train journey.

Middlesister lives in Chesterfield.  She got the same call and caught the first available train.  It was packed.  She boarded and had the choice to turn left down the train or right. She turned right and the first person she saw was me.

The lady sitting opposite me realised we were sisters and that there was something amiss so kindly gave up her seat so we could sit together.

Then half way through the journey an announcement.

"A lady's ring has been found in the toilet ... so if any lady has lost her ring..."

And Middlesister and I catching each other’s eye and laughing at the rudery (as Mother would say).

Finally getting there.

Thinking they'd shaved Dad's moustache and realising, with fear, that I couldn't see it because his skin was the same pale grey colour.

Dad, thank God, survived and lived another twenty seven years.

Should have written this last Friday.

 

A Yarn Yarn

Once you tell people you volunteer at a knit’n’natter group they offer you yarn.

As one of mother’s sayings was “Refuse nothing but blows”, I find it hard not to accept.

But, between me and other kind donors there was, until recently, so much yarn in LDNorthEast’s attic that it was a fire hazard (although if a fire got up there the building would be pretty much done for, but that’s an argument for another day).

And, to be truthful, there was far more than our group of seven ladies and three volunteers could ever use.   

There was a lot in thicknesses and colours that they’d never use.  There were also some really weird chunky, shaggy and nobbly stuff that is really hard to work with.

I put a call out to some friends who I knew might be able to take some, and four replied in the affirmative.

This Tuesday morning I took Ferretfingers up into the loft and he helped bring down the equivalent of four Ikea big blue bags full.  On Wednesday morning Thunderthighs came and carried down several boxes, two big bags and a sack of stuffing (there’s a surplus of that too).

We brought them home and the yarn has been sorted into:-

A pillowcase full of bright coloured double knit for Mrs Leftfoot’s mum, who is in a care home and occupies her time knitting scarves.

A bin-bag of chunky, aran and double knit in darker colours for a WI friend who knits blankets for 

The People’s Kitchen.

A super large heavyweight carrier bag of the weird and thin stuff for the Birdfood lady who knits items to sell and raise funds for a school in Africa.

A bin-bag of variously coloured double knit, both full balls and oddments for Kentishlady who is helping set up a knit’n’natter group in Byker (she’s also taking the stuffing as they're talking about cuddly toys)

Small bags of yellow, white and pink which I will sneak back in as the ladies will use them for Easter chicks, bunnies, snowmen and babies’ hats.

I took the opportunity to clear some stuff I’ll never use out of my yarn stash and replace it with stuff that I know I will.  Fester’s mother was also a needlewoman and I inherited her yarn stash, some of which I still have.  I almost always have a project or three in mind, and sometimes even get around to doing them if nothing else gets in the way.

At bed time I commented “I’ve spent almost all of today sorting yarn.”

“Don’t you mean wool?”

“No, it isn’t all wool, there’s acrylic, cotton … all wool is yarn but not all yarn is wool.”

“Me mother had 2 ply, 3 ply, 4ply and double knit.”

“Still do … mind you double knit these days is more like 4 ply in my mum’s day … what they call aran is just a bit thicker than the old double knit … Oh Lord!  Listen to me.  Don’t I sound old?”

“No” he said reassuringly “you just sound as if you’ve been around a while.”