... 10 Countries searching for 'genius on the web.
South Africa
United Kingdom
United States
Australia
China
Germany
Sweden
France
Russia
Brazil
... 7 Smartest Dogs.
Border collie
Poodle
German shepherd
Golden retriever
Doberman pincher
Shetland sheepdog
Labrador
29 May 2009
28 May 2009
Genius.
HISTORY OF THE IQ TEST.
A genius was once described as someone with an IQ of over 130, which is also, give or take a point or two, the cut-off point for getting into MENSA. Only 1 in 50 will qualify.
The INTELLIGENCE QUOTIENT was 'invented' in 1908 by Alfred Binet, a French psychologist. With Theodore Simon, he published the first intelligence test which graded a child's intelligence by the ratio between his mental and actual ages. Thus a child of 10 who thought as well as a 13 year old would have an IQ of 13 divided by 10 multiplied by the 'average' IQ of 100, hence 130. This test obviously wouldn't work for adults. It was David Wwchsler, an American psychologist, who came up with a way of applying the same principles in 1939. Under his test, the scores of participants are compared with each other to determine IQ. An average or mean score will still gain an IQ of 100.
HOW TO BECOME A GENIUS.
Wisdom may come with old age. Genius, alas, does not. Yet, science says that we may improve our brainpower, so here's how.
Get eight hours sleep. (That's me sorted then, I can do at least 10) We solve problems in our sleep. Dimitri Mendeleev worked out the periodic table in a dream. Paul McCartney dreamt 'Yesterday'.
Eat breakfast. Vital. For lunch, have an omelette and salad followed by a yoghurt for protein and tyrosine. For your dinner, it's fish and omega 3. Repeat for the rest of your life. (Sound sooo boring)
Practice short-term memory. Tests show students can go from memorising a maximum of 16 numbers on one reading to 102 numbers. This is fun at parties. (What sort of parties do these people go to?)
Exercise. It not only improves concentration, but helps you grow new brain cells. (Have they ever tried getting a class of 6 year olds to concentrate after they've been exercising? I don't think so.)
Join a Nunnery. (Do you think they'd have me?) An unusually large number of nuns at the School Sisters Of Notre Dame in minnesota are centenarians free of dementia. Scientists have ruled out God and put the findings down to stimulating hobbies such as knitting. (Knitting, stimulating?)
Thanks to a good friend for allowing me to publish this, part of an assignment she did for her psychology O' level course and published on her personal blog. By the way the comments in RED are mine, the responsibility of no-one else.
A genius was once described as someone with an IQ of over 130, which is also, give or take a point or two, the cut-off point for getting into MENSA. Only 1 in 50 will qualify.
The INTELLIGENCE QUOTIENT was 'invented' in 1908 by Alfred Binet, a French psychologist. With Theodore Simon, he published the first intelligence test which graded a child's intelligence by the ratio between his mental and actual ages. Thus a child of 10 who thought as well as a 13 year old would have an IQ of 13 divided by 10 multiplied by the 'average' IQ of 100, hence 130. This test obviously wouldn't work for adults. It was David Wwchsler, an American psychologist, who came up with a way of applying the same principles in 1939. Under his test, the scores of participants are compared with each other to determine IQ. An average or mean score will still gain an IQ of 100.
HOW TO BECOME A GENIUS.
Wisdom may come with old age. Genius, alas, does not. Yet, science says that we may improve our brainpower, so here's how.
Get eight hours sleep. (That's me sorted then, I can do at least 10) We solve problems in our sleep. Dimitri Mendeleev worked out the periodic table in a dream. Paul McCartney dreamt 'Yesterday'.
Eat breakfast. Vital. For lunch, have an omelette and salad followed by a yoghurt for protein and tyrosine. For your dinner, it's fish and omega 3. Repeat for the rest of your life. (Sound sooo boring)
Practice short-term memory. Tests show students can go from memorising a maximum of 16 numbers on one reading to 102 numbers. This is fun at parties. (What sort of parties do these people go to?)
Exercise. It not only improves concentration, but helps you grow new brain cells. (Have they ever tried getting a class of 6 year olds to concentrate after they've been exercising? I don't think so.)
Join a Nunnery. (Do you think they'd have me?) An unusually large number of nuns at the School Sisters Of Notre Dame in minnesota are centenarians free of dementia. Scientists have ruled out God and put the findings down to stimulating hobbies such as knitting. (Knitting, stimulating?)
Thanks to a good friend for allowing me to publish this, part of an assignment she did for her psychology O' level course and published on her personal blog. By the way the comments in RED are mine, the responsibility of no-one else.
26 May 2009
'Pets Portrait' Explained.
The slide show is of our beloved 'babies' who, sadly, are no longer with us.
The black and white cat is Dotty who came to us, with her brother, Zar (brown and white), aged about eighteen months. They originally lived with a friend of ours who had to re -home some of her cats (she had about six, including Dotty and Zar's mother, named Cat, at one point) after it was discovered her partner was allergic. Sadly Zar was only with us for a short time before he became ill and died.
Phog, grey and white (of course), came to us from a pet shop, costing £2.00, as a kitten as Dotty, used to living with many cats and missing Zar, was lonely. I shall always remember the first time I saw her- a ball of grey and white fluff, she was sitting on Hubby's desk at his work place, drinking from a saucer of milk.
Peg, our only dog, came to live with us next. We hadn't planned on having a dog (Hubby worked full time and I was at college) but Hubby saved her from a watery grave when he came upon a 'man' trying to drown her. We had planned to keep her for the evening and take her to a charity who re- homed abandoned cats and dogs the next morning but having had her overnight, that was it, we were in love.
Last, but by no means last, 'my little man' Puck (brindle in colour) originally named Tara, came to us from my sister who found herself unable to cope with both a toddler and a 'mischievous' kitten. Thinking we had a third queen, I was upset to discover ,what I thought was, a 'lump'. "That's not a lump," said Hubby, "That's a testicle!" Yep, 'she' was in fact a 'he'. Thankfully by this time we had already changed the name - I didn't like the name Tara and Puck, like the mischievous sprite in 'A Midsummers Nights Dream', seemed so much more appropriate.
The black and white cat is Dotty who came to us, with her brother, Zar (brown and white), aged about eighteen months. They originally lived with a friend of ours who had to re -home some of her cats (she had about six, including Dotty and Zar's mother, named Cat, at one point) after it was discovered her partner was allergic. Sadly Zar was only with us for a short time before he became ill and died.
Phog, grey and white (of course), came to us from a pet shop, costing £2.00, as a kitten as Dotty, used to living with many cats and missing Zar, was lonely. I shall always remember the first time I saw her- a ball of grey and white fluff, she was sitting on Hubby's desk at his work place, drinking from a saucer of milk.
Peg, our only dog, came to live with us next. We hadn't planned on having a dog (Hubby worked full time and I was at college) but Hubby saved her from a watery grave when he came upon a 'man' trying to drown her. We had planned to keep her for the evening and take her to a charity who re- homed abandoned cats and dogs the next morning but having had her overnight, that was it, we were in love.
Last, but by no means last, 'my little man' Puck (brindle in colour) originally named Tara, came to us from my sister who found herself unable to cope with both a toddler and a 'mischievous' kitten. Thinking we had a third queen, I was upset to discover ,what I thought was, a 'lump'. "That's not a lump," said Hubby, "That's a testicle!" Yep, 'she' was in fact a 'he'. Thankfully by this time we had already changed the name - I didn't like the name Tara and Puck, like the mischievous sprite in 'A Midsummers Nights Dream', seemed so much more appropriate.
25 May 2009
Dating an elephant.
A policeman stopped a man who was walking along with an elephant and ordered him to take it to the zoo at once.
The next day the policeman saw the same man, still with the elephant.
" I thought I told you to take that elephant to the zoo," he said.
" I did," said the man, "and now I'm taking him shopping."
The next day the policeman saw the same man, still with the elephant.
" I thought I told you to take that elephant to the zoo," he said.
" I did," said the man, "and now I'm taking him shopping."
It's no good.
I'm sorry but I can't bring myself to read another sentence, let alone another page, of the Marilyn Manson autobiography. I give in. Instead I'm going to read the new Victoria Hislop book. Did anyone read her last novel, which was also incidentally her first , 'The Island'? I highly recommend it, it's a wonderful story.
The Chocolate War and Beyond ......
The Chocolate War and Beyond The Chocolate War By Robert Cromier.
The Chocolate War - New boy Jerry Renault refuses to sell chocolates for Trinity School's annual fundraiser. This small act of defiance starts a chain reaction, exposing the corruption running through the school and starting an all out war with the Vigils, the school's secret society. there is only one solution, but who will survive?
Beyond The chocolate War - In the terrifying aftermath of The Chocolate War, the Vigils are now more powerful than ever. But the cruelty of their leader, Archie,has made him enemies and now they seek their revenge.
A double dose of 'chocolate' in one book, what could be better?
Though this edition contains the two books, both are deeply interwoven with the events portrayed in The Chocolate War being integral to the story that is Beyond The Chocolate War, I would strongly suggest that the reader treat it as one. However, for the sake of this review I will tackle each book as an individual piece.
THE CHOCOLATE WARS, though set in an all boys Catholic school and involving the selling of twenty thousand boxes of out of date Mother's Day chocolates ("Beautiful boxes, beautiful chocolates and in perfect condition. They've been stored under the best of conditions since last spring. All we have to do is remove the purple ribbons that say ' mother' and we're in business.") at two dollars each, this novel somehow reminded me of 'Lord Of The Flies'.
At only 209 pages long and aimed largely at a much younger audience of older teenagers , I read this novel in record time and though I can't say I exactly enjoyed it, I did find it extremely interesting.
Aimed, in my opinion, to appeal more to boys, I couldn't really identify with any of the characters though, sadly, I did 'recognise' one or two. What was interesting to me was how certain characters within the school community were portrayed as going from having subtle feelings of indifference, resentment and hostility through to carrying out acts of intimidation, verbal abuse and, finally, actual physical violence. All in all quite brutal.
BEYOND THE CHOCOLATE WAR, like it's predecessor, is both dark and full of often unspoken malice though, with the inclusion of a major female character (there were none of note in the first book), events take an even more sinister turn. Much more intense, this novel is more psychological, full of teenage angst and seething anger.
With the desire for revenge so great, the climax, which begins with a simple act of deception, when it comes is both shocking, surprising and nothing short of chilling. a much better read then 'The Chocolate War', this has a real twist in it's tail which will leave you pondering on the actions of the characters, their values and morals.
The Chocolate War - New boy Jerry Renault refuses to sell chocolates for Trinity School's annual fundraiser. This small act of defiance starts a chain reaction, exposing the corruption running through the school and starting an all out war with the Vigils, the school's secret society. there is only one solution, but who will survive?
Beyond The chocolate War - In the terrifying aftermath of The Chocolate War, the Vigils are now more powerful than ever. But the cruelty of their leader, Archie,has made him enemies and now they seek their revenge.
A double dose of 'chocolate' in one book, what could be better?
Though this edition contains the two books, both are deeply interwoven with the events portrayed in The Chocolate War being integral to the story that is Beyond The Chocolate War, I would strongly suggest that the reader treat it as one. However, for the sake of this review I will tackle each book as an individual piece.
THE CHOCOLATE WARS, though set in an all boys Catholic school and involving the selling of twenty thousand boxes of out of date Mother's Day chocolates ("Beautiful boxes, beautiful chocolates and in perfect condition. They've been stored under the best of conditions since last spring. All we have to do is remove the purple ribbons that say ' mother' and we're in business.") at two dollars each, this novel somehow reminded me of 'Lord Of The Flies'.
At only 209 pages long and aimed largely at a much younger audience of older teenagers , I read this novel in record time and though I can't say I exactly enjoyed it, I did find it extremely interesting.
Aimed, in my opinion, to appeal more to boys, I couldn't really identify with any of the characters though, sadly, I did 'recognise' one or two. What was interesting to me was how certain characters within the school community were portrayed as going from having subtle feelings of indifference, resentment and hostility through to carrying out acts of intimidation, verbal abuse and, finally, actual physical violence. All in all quite brutal.
BEYOND THE CHOCOLATE WAR, like it's predecessor, is both dark and full of often unspoken malice though, with the inclusion of a major female character (there were none of note in the first book), events take an even more sinister turn. Much more intense, this novel is more psychological, full of teenage angst and seething anger.
With the desire for revenge so great, the climax, which begins with a simple act of deception, when it comes is both shocking, surprising and nothing short of chilling. a much better read then 'The Chocolate War', this has a real twist in it's tail which will leave you pondering on the actions of the characters, their values and morals.
24 May 2009
The brown paper cowboy.
A brown paper cowboy rode into town on a brown paper horse wearing a brown paper hat, brown paper trousers and a brown paper jacket. Strapped to his waist was a brown paper gun.
The town sheriff shouted, "I'm arresting you."
"What for?" asked the brown paper cowboy.
"Rustling."
The town sheriff shouted, "I'm arresting you."
"What for?" asked the brown paper cowboy.
"Rustling."
Talk about coincidence.
Hubby had just finished introducing me in the wonders of the site known as FaceBook, when we stopped for a break to watch two of our favourite comedies - "My Name Is Earl" and ,the even more brilliant ,"The Big Bang Theory" (Sheldon is rapidly becoming a hero to Hubby).
Anyway, in "My name is ....", Joy was similarly being introduced to 'BuddyBook', where on learning her husband, Darnel, had 300+ friends she was heard to comment :
"Who needs that many friends? Everybody knows you only need two, a poor one to make you feel rich and a fat one to make you feel thin."
Needless to say, with views like that, she quickly discovered that no one actually wanted to claim her as a 'friend' but then true love prevailed and Darnel spent the whole night creating hundreds of fictional friends for his wife. Aah.
Anyway, in "My name is ....", Joy was similarly being introduced to 'BuddyBook', where on learning her husband, Darnel, had 300+ friends she was heard to comment :
"Who needs that many friends? Everybody knows you only need two, a poor one to make you feel rich and a fat one to make you feel thin."
Needless to say, with views like that, she quickly discovered that no one actually wanted to claim her as a 'friend' but then true love prevailed and Darnel spent the whole night creating hundreds of fictional friends for his wife. Aah.
"The thrill of young love really can last a lifetime."
As reported in the Daily Telegraph , 23rd of May 2009.
The euphoria of young love can last for decades, a scientific study has indicated.
People married for more than 20 years experienced the same brain activity as young lovers when shown pictures of their partners.
In both groups, the photograph stimulated the part of the brain associated with euphoria, researchers found. The ventral tegmental area is also activated when people take cocaine. However, some differences between the early and late-stage lovers emerged in MRI scans. People in long-term relationships showed higher levels of activity in a part of the brain associated with calmness and pain suppression.
Those in the throes of a new romance were more stimulated in a region connected with obsession and anxiety, according to researchers at Rutgers University in New Jersey.
The euphoria of young love can last for decades, a scientific study has indicated.
People married for more than 20 years experienced the same brain activity as young lovers when shown pictures of their partners.
In both groups, the photograph stimulated the part of the brain associated with euphoria, researchers found. The ventral tegmental area is also activated when people take cocaine. However, some differences between the early and late-stage lovers emerged in MRI scans. People in long-term relationships showed higher levels of activity in a part of the brain associated with calmness and pain suppression.
Those in the throes of a new romance were more stimulated in a region connected with obsession and anxiety, according to researchers at Rutgers University in New Jersey.
23 May 2009
Modern day SNOBBERY AND PREJUDICE.
I'm so incensed about an item on last nights BBC1 programme "The One Show" that it's taken me until now to compose myself enough to write. What offended me so much?
The article was all about the residents on a newly built housing estate in Dudley who claim the housing company who built their houses had guaranteed that they would remain the domain of private residents only. However, due largely to the current economic climate, the housing company were unable to sell all of the houses and so leased them to a housing association for use as social housing. Now the original residents are outraged and are threatening to sue as they claim sharing THEIR estate with people who do not own but rent properties will bring down the value of THEIR homes.
I couldn't help but think back to the days when home owners claimed property values would decrease because a Black/Asian/One parent family had moved into the area. Surely this is modern day snobbery and prejudice at it's very worst.
The article was all about the residents on a newly built housing estate in Dudley who claim the housing company who built their houses had guaranteed that they would remain the domain of private residents only. However, due largely to the current economic climate, the housing company were unable to sell all of the houses and so leased them to a housing association for use as social housing. Now the original residents are outraged and are threatening to sue as they claim sharing THEIR estate with people who do not own but rent properties will bring down the value of THEIR homes.
I couldn't help but think back to the days when home owners claimed property values would decrease because a Black/Asian/One parent family had moved into the area. Surely this is modern day snobbery and prejudice at it's very worst.
22 May 2009
My (Naughty?) Little Sister.
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Today my little sis reaches another milestone in her life, it's her birthday - HAPPY BIRTHDAY - and though we have kind of agreed that we wouldn't discuss just what birthday it is, between you and me, it's a so -called 'big' birthday, after 30 but before 50 and it rhymes with naughty.
Now me and sis haven't always seen eye to eye and, to be totally honest, we would never have been friends if we weren't sisters (every one who knows us comments on how they have never known two sisters who are so unalike) but we love each other because , well, we are sisters.
As children, we had our fair share of arguments (I still haven't really forgiven her for snapping my Sindy doll in half) nearly all of which were caused, I'm sure she'll agree, by her. You see, she had an awful knack of pushing me and pushing me until I snapped, one of her favourites was repeating everything I said, how I HATED that, and when I snapped - boy, did I snap! However woe betide anyone who called her names and vice versa for we were always there for each other in that respect.
As young adults it got slightly better though we still had our moments, I'm sure she will remember how we argued over her bridesmaid dress, she wanted pink but I wasn't having it. It can't have been all one-sided though, I must have been the one to cause some of the arguments - just can't think of when . All of that is in the past now and, though we still don't agree on everything ,we remain close as sisters.
Now me and sis haven't always seen eye to eye and, to be totally honest, we would never have been friends if we weren't sisters (every one who knows us comments on how they have never known two sisters who are so unalike) but we love each other because , well, we are sisters.
As children, we had our fair share of arguments (I still haven't really forgiven her for snapping my Sindy doll in half) nearly all of which were caused, I'm sure she'll agree, by her. You see, she had an awful knack of pushing me and pushing me until I snapped, one of her favourites was repeating everything I said, how I HATED that, and when I snapped - boy, did I snap! However woe betide anyone who called her names and vice versa for we were always there for each other in that respect.
As young adults it got slightly better though we still had our moments, I'm sure she will remember how we argued over her bridesmaid dress, she wanted pink but I wasn't having it. It can't have been all one-sided though, I must have been the one to cause some of the arguments - just can't think of when . All of that is in the past now and, though we still don't agree on everything ,we remain close as sisters.
21 May 2009
Killing time.
I'm sitting here awaiting the return of Hubby who has been away in Birmingham since Monday - he's due back in about three quarters of an hour, train service willing. After all these years (nearly 23) I still don't sleep too well when he's away and always count the days/hours until his return. This time, though, I don't know who/what he will be more pleased to see, me or the computer? It's the first time I've been left home alone since I started blogging and he was quite anxious that the computer remained in working order - oh, he of little faith. Anyway as the Marilyn Manson book isn't going down too well, I'm having to force myself and I'm yet to finish chapter one, I thought I'd kill time by posting a few jokes.
Alas, train service was more then willing, I've just received a frantic text message asking "Can I come in?" (he didn't have his keys with him), so Hubby is home a full twenty five minutes early which saves you from any more of my jokes - until tomorrow.
Alas, train service was more then willing, I've just received a frantic text message asking "Can I come in?" (he didn't have his keys with him), so Hubby is home a full twenty five minutes early which saves you from any more of my jokes - until tomorrow.
Challenged.
At the Innisfree quiz last Sunday the topic of books came up. "What do you like reading?" being the main thread. I, on hindsight, should have remained silent but regrettably found myself saying I'd have a go at reading most things, though like most people I have my favourite authors and types of book etc.
Now one of our fellow quiz team members who is a huge rock fan (he was absolutly horrified to realise he knew the answer to the question " In the early days,what was the name of Elvis Presley's backing singers?)*, into the likes of the German group Ramstein and Marilyn Manson amongst others, lay down the gauntlet that I, rather foolishly, took up. The challenge being that I read Marilyn Manson's autobiography "The Long Hard Road Out Of Hell, " Well, challenge accepted, though I must confess I should have been quicker off the mark and challenged him to read a Mills & Boon novel in return. I couldn't be that cruel though! (Could I?)
* Yes, you know who you are.
Now one of our fellow quiz team members who is a huge rock fan (he was absolutly horrified to realise he knew the answer to the question " In the early days,what was the name of Elvis Presley's backing singers?)*, into the likes of the German group Ramstein and Marilyn Manson amongst others, lay down the gauntlet that I, rather foolishly, took up. The challenge being that I read Marilyn Manson's autobiography "The Long Hard Road Out Of Hell, " Well, challenge accepted, though I must confess I should have been quicker off the mark and challenged him to read a Mills & Boon novel in return. I couldn't be that cruel though! (Could I?)
* Yes, you know who you are.
Brick Lane.
Brick Lane By Monica Ali.
At the tender age of eighteen, Nazneen's life is turned upside down. After an arranged marriage to a man twenty years her elder she exchanges her Bangladeshi village for a block of flats in London's East End. In this new world, where poor people can be fat and even dogs go on diets, she struggles to make sense of her existence - and to do her duty to her husband. A man of inflated ideas (and stomach) he sorely tests her compliance.
But Nazneen submits, as she must to Fate and devotes her life to raising her family and slapping down her demons of discontent. Until she becomes aware of a young radical, Karim.
Against a background of escalating racial and gang conflict, they embark on an affair that finally forces Nazneen to take control of her life....
A first novel from Monica Ali, Brick Lane follows the story of Nazneen from her birth in 1967 up until 2002 when, with the help of her daughters ,Shahana and Bibi ,and family friend ,Razia, she gets both her independence and to fulfil a long held dream. It also follows the story, through a series of written correspondences, of Nazneen's sister, Hasina, who remained in Bangladesh. Ultimately though it is the story of different generations, cultures and beliefs, all quite intricately woven.
The writing is wonderful ,both funny ("Killed by falling cows. He was only alone a few moments and when they went back in he was underneath the cows. Seventeen frozen cows"), descriptive("The teenager- as flaccid in his chair as a virgin balloon ...") and thought provoking ( "I'm thinking as long as they're on the scag, they stay away from religion. And the government - it's more scared of Islam than heroin.") and, yet at the same time, as is certainly the case of the correspondence from Hasina , can be hard going.
The characters whilst undeniably interesting, for me, lacked something - perhaps a certain warmth? The women characters, though not always likable, were on the whole, better written, stronger and more challenging, whilst the male characters were weaker, somewhat one dimensional and lacking in numbers - compared to some eight or so major female characters there were only four or so noteworthy male, only two of whom, Nazneen's husband Chanu and her lover, Karim, played any real part.
All in all, a good read, though perhaps slightly too long. Personally I think the author could have spent slightly longer exploring certain issues and the impact these had on the community but then that would have made it a totally different novel.
At the tender age of eighteen, Nazneen's life is turned upside down. After an arranged marriage to a man twenty years her elder she exchanges her Bangladeshi village for a block of flats in London's East End. In this new world, where poor people can be fat and even dogs go on diets, she struggles to make sense of her existence - and to do her duty to her husband. A man of inflated ideas (and stomach) he sorely tests her compliance.
But Nazneen submits, as she must to Fate and devotes her life to raising her family and slapping down her demons of discontent. Until she becomes aware of a young radical, Karim.
Against a background of escalating racial and gang conflict, they embark on an affair that finally forces Nazneen to take control of her life....
A first novel from Monica Ali, Brick Lane follows the story of Nazneen from her birth in 1967 up until 2002 when, with the help of her daughters ,Shahana and Bibi ,and family friend ,Razia, she gets both her independence and to fulfil a long held dream. It also follows the story, through a series of written correspondences, of Nazneen's sister, Hasina, who remained in Bangladesh. Ultimately though it is the story of different generations, cultures and beliefs, all quite intricately woven.
The writing is wonderful ,both funny ("Killed by falling cows. He was only alone a few moments and when they went back in he was underneath the cows. Seventeen frozen cows"), descriptive("The teenager- as flaccid in his chair as a virgin balloon ...") and thought provoking ( "I'm thinking as long as they're on the scag, they stay away from religion. And the government - it's more scared of Islam than heroin.") and, yet at the same time, as is certainly the case of the correspondence from Hasina , can be hard going.
The characters whilst undeniably interesting, for me, lacked something - perhaps a certain warmth? The women characters, though not always likable, were on the whole, better written, stronger and more challenging, whilst the male characters were weaker, somewhat one dimensional and lacking in numbers - compared to some eight or so major female characters there were only four or so noteworthy male, only two of whom, Nazneen's husband Chanu and her lover, Karim, played any real part.
All in all, a good read, though perhaps slightly too long. Personally I think the author could have spent slightly longer exploring certain issues and the impact these had on the community but then that would have made it a totally different novel.
20 May 2009
Funny what you hear in the fridge!!!
I heard a noise coming from my fridge, sounded like singing.
Opening the door, I heard the Bee Gees song "Staying Alive" coming from the salad drawer.
Turns out it was only "chive talking".
Opening the door, I heard the Bee Gees song "Staying Alive" coming from the salad drawer.
Turns out it was only "chive talking".
Drunken Hogs.
"Two hedgehogs drank a discarded bottle of Advocaat and were reported to be recovering in a German animal shelter where they were nicknamed Egg and Nog."
-Many thanks to our friends in Germany for this piece of Hedgehoggy news. (I can't quite make up my mind if this is a serious piece of journalism or a joke!)
-Many thanks to our friends in Germany for this piece of Hedgehoggy news. (I can't quite make up my mind if this is a serious piece of journalism or a joke!)
Random Funerals.
I love that well known British soap opera Coronation Street. I was brought up watching the antics of Elsie Tanner, Mrs. Walker and, perhaps my favourite character of all times, the roller wearing Hilda Ogden. Set in a fictional suburb just outside Manchester, it is the story of "everyday working folk". I love it for it's strong women characters, I love it for it's sense of community but, most of all, I love it for it's humour. Tonight's episode was a classic example of that humour and how I laughed.
Several of the regular characters plus a newcomer to the street were sitting in The Rovers (shortened name for The Rovers Return- the local pub) discussing that days events which had included the sudden death of a regulars father when the following conversation took place.
BLANCHE (Elderly widow, lives with daughter Deirdre and son-in-law Ken): "I've been to more funerals this year then you've had hot dinners."
RAMSAY (A newcomer, long lost brother of Norris): "Oh, I'm sorry to hear that."
DEIRDRE (Blanche's middle aged, chain smoking daughter, currently not speaking to her mother): "Don't be. She didn't know them, she just likes going to random funerals."
BLANCHE: "So now your criticising my hobbies."
As I say you had to laugh, or is that just me?
Several of the regular characters plus a newcomer to the street were sitting in The Rovers (shortened name for The Rovers Return- the local pub) discussing that days events which had included the sudden death of a regulars father when the following conversation took place.
BLANCHE (Elderly widow, lives with daughter Deirdre and son-in-law Ken): "I've been to more funerals this year then you've had hot dinners."
RAMSAY (A newcomer, long lost brother of Norris): "Oh, I'm sorry to hear that."
DEIRDRE (Blanche's middle aged, chain smoking daughter, currently not speaking to her mother): "Don't be. She didn't know them, she just likes going to random funerals."
BLANCHE: "So now your criticising my hobbies."
As I say you had to laugh, or is that just me?
Differences.
Apart from the wonderful Dr. Seuss books, I'm not a huge fan of poetry but Hubby bought me this little book a few years ago and I must say it's delightful. Entitled The Best Recitations For Ladies - Collected And Arranged By S.C. Johnson M.A. it is only a short book, of what age I'm not sure as there are no actual dates given apart from an inscription on the front cover which reads "To Joyce, July 1944."
DIFFERENCES.
The king can drink the best of wine -
So can I;
And has enough when he would dine -
So have I;
And cannot order rain or shine -
Nor can I.
Then where's the difference - let me see -
Betwixt my lord the king and me?
Do trusty friends surround his throne
Night and day?
Or make his interests their own?
No, not they.
Mine love me for myself alone -
Bless'd be they!
And that's the difference which I see
Betwixt the lord my king and me.
Do knaves around me lie in wait
To deceive?
Or fawn and flatter when they hate,
And would grieve?
Or cruel pomps oppress my state
By my leave?
No, Heaven be thanked! And here you see
More differences 'twixt the king and me.
He has his fools , with jests and quips,
When he'd play;
He has his armies and his ships -
Great are they;
But not a child to kiss his lips;
Well -a-day!
And that's the difference sad to see
Betwixt the lord my king and me.
I wear the cap and he the crown -
What of that?
I sleep on straw and he on down -
What of that?
And he's the king and I'm the clown -
What of that?
If happy I , and wretched he,
Perhaps the king would change with me.
Charles Mackay.
DIFFERENCES.
The king can drink the best of wine -
So can I;
And has enough when he would dine -
So have I;
And cannot order rain or shine -
Nor can I.
Then where's the difference - let me see -
Betwixt my lord the king and me?
Do trusty friends surround his throne
Night and day?
Or make his interests their own?
No, not they.
Mine love me for myself alone -
Bless'd be they!
And that's the difference which I see
Betwixt the lord my king and me.
Do knaves around me lie in wait
To deceive?
Or fawn and flatter when they hate,
And would grieve?
Or cruel pomps oppress my state
By my leave?
No, Heaven be thanked! And here you see
More differences 'twixt the king and me.
He has his fools , with jests and quips,
When he'd play;
He has his armies and his ships -
Great are they;
But not a child to kiss his lips;
Well -a-day!
And that's the difference sad to see
Betwixt the lord my king and me.
I wear the cap and he the crown -
What of that?
I sleep on straw and he on down -
What of that?
And he's the king and I'm the clown -
What of that?
If happy I , and wretched he,
Perhaps the king would change with me.
Charles Mackay.
18 May 2009
One before bedtime.
It's way past my bedtime for, as Hubby would tell you, I'm no night owl (unfortunately I'm no lark either which only leaves midday when I'm fairly human) but tonight I simply can't sleep , probably something to do with Hubby being away for a few days, and whilst I'd normally pick up a book or just lie there, staring at the ceiling, now I have a new toy -the computer and a new past time - blogging. Yes!!! Anyway here's one for the road or I really will be like the proverbial bear with a sore head all day tomorrow.
CUSTOMER: " Do you have any dogs going cheap? "
PET SHOP OWNER: " I'm afraid not Sir, all our dogs go woof "
So, as I always say to Nephew C and Niece N when they sleep over (yes ,I know they are now 16 and almost 20 but I've always said it ) :
"Night, night.
Sleep tight
and don't let the bed bugs bite
but if they do"
To which they reply
"blast them with dynamite."
And on that note, it's goodnight from me.
CUSTOMER: " Do you have any dogs going cheap? "
PET SHOP OWNER: " I'm afraid not Sir, all our dogs go woof "
So, as I always say to Nephew C and Niece N when they sleep over (yes ,I know they are now 16 and almost 20 but I've always said it ) :
"Night, night.
Sleep tight
and don't let the bed bugs bite
but if they do"
To which they reply
"blast them with dynamite."
And on that note, it's goodnight from me.
Hedgehogs V Cars.
W from Wales, a pen pal of mine who also happens to be a huge hedgehog fan, sent me a copy of this poem that was written for her by her aunt who sadly died earlier this year.
I am very found of hedgehogs
which makes me want to say
that I am struck with wonder
how there's any left today.
For each morning as I travel,
and no short distance that,
all I see are hedgehogs,
squashed and dead and flat.
Now hedgehogs are not that clever,
no, hedgehogs are quite dim
and when he see your headlamps,
well, it don't occur to him
that the only wise thing to do
is to up and run away.
No, he curls up in a prickly ball
and no doubt starts to pray.
Well motor cars can travel
at a most alarming rate
and by the time you see him
it is always way too late
and so he gets a-squasho'd,
unnoticed but for me
with me pen and paper
sitting by a tree.
It is universally proven
in both chapter and in verse
that in a car versus hedgehog fight,
the hedgehog comes off worse.
So when whistling down your prop shaft
and bouncing along the cliff,
his coat of nice brown prickles
is not effect-iff.
A hedgehog cannot make you laugh,
nor whistle, dance or sing
and he ain't much to look at,
and he can' t make anything
and in amongst his prickles
there's fleas and bugs and that
but that ain't no need to leave him
squashed and dead and flat.
Oh spare a thought for hedgehogs,
as well as one for me.
Spare a thought for hedgehogs
as you drink a cup of tea.
Spare a thought for hedgehogs,
hoverin' on the brink't.
Spare a thought for hedgehogs
lest they become extinct.
I am very found of hedgehogs
which makes me want to say
that I am struck with wonder
how there's any left today.
For each morning as I travel,
and no short distance that,
all I see are hedgehogs,
squashed and dead and flat.
Now hedgehogs are not that clever,
no, hedgehogs are quite dim
and when he see your headlamps,
well, it don't occur to him
that the only wise thing to do
is to up and run away.
No, he curls up in a prickly ball
and no doubt starts to pray.
Well motor cars can travel
at a most alarming rate
and by the time you see him
it is always way too late
and so he gets a-squasho'd,
unnoticed but for me
with me pen and paper
sitting by a tree.
It is universally proven
in both chapter and in verse
that in a car versus hedgehog fight,
the hedgehog comes off worse.
So when whistling down your prop shaft
and bouncing along the cliff,
his coat of nice brown prickles
is not effect-iff.
A hedgehog cannot make you laugh,
nor whistle, dance or sing
and he ain't much to look at,
and he can' t make anything
and in amongst his prickles
there's fleas and bugs and that
but that ain't no need to leave him
squashed and dead and flat.
Oh spare a thought for hedgehogs,
as well as one for me.
Spare a thought for hedgehogs
as you drink a cup of tea.
Spare a thought for hedgehogs,
hoverin' on the brink't.
Spare a thought for hedgehogs
lest they become extinct.
Remember Space Cadets?
Way back in April 2009, when I was a novice blogger (ooh, hark at me), I posted an entry entitled My Week -end Part 1 in which I mentioned that Hubby and I had had the rather dubious pleasure of seeing a comedy act, I use the term in it's broadest sense, called Space Cadets who were advertised as "Space Cadets - as seen on Britains Got Talent". Well, every week we dutifully watched, would tonight be the night? Saturday, it turned out, was the night and what a let down it was.
Having seen them live we were pretty sure Simon Cowell et al would not think much of Space Cadets, it was even rumored that bets were being taken amongst the Innisfree regulars as to how long the act would last before being given the 3 X X X 's that saw the end of the audition, not very long I suspected and boy was I right! If ever there was a case of false advertising, surely this was it, blink and you would have missed the whole thing. "Space Cadets - as seen on Britains Got Talent" Baah Humbug!
Footnote. Hello Hubby, if you are reading this, So far, so good - your computer lives to see another blog. Just off to watch Neighbours and Home & Away. xx
Having seen them live we were pretty sure Simon Cowell et al would not think much of Space Cadets, it was even rumored that bets were being taken amongst the Innisfree regulars as to how long the act would last before being given the 3 X X X 's that saw the end of the audition, not very long I suspected and boy was I right! If ever there was a case of false advertising, surely this was it, blink and you would have missed the whole thing. "Space Cadets - as seen on Britains Got Talent" Baah Humbug!
Footnote. Hello Hubby, if you are reading this, So far, so good - your computer lives to see another blog. Just off to watch Neighbours and Home & Away. xx
17 May 2009
Eurovision 2009.
I have a confession to make - "I'm a Eurovision fan", okay I said " I'm a EUROVISION fan", not a huge fan, I couldn't name every winning country and their entry since time began, but I do enjoy watching and "playing along" for it is traditional in this household for everyone present to give each act a score out of 10.
This year the competition was held in Russia as they won last year, I couldn't name the song or singer but I do know they scored 272 points with Niece N and I giving them 11 out of 20,and what a show it was. The stadium was huge, seating 2500 people (but don't quote me on that) and was quite spectacular As a finale they had a stage above the heads of the audience which was covered with some kind of plastic sheeting, for want of a better description, in which dancers appeared to be "swimming". The stage was then slowly lowered so that it was only centimetres above the heads of the audience, it must have felt like being in a river. As I say, spectacular, and to think we very nearly didn't watch it.
There are always complaints of block (countries voting for other countries who just happen to share a border) or political voting but this, on the whole, didn't seem to occur nearly as much this year - perhaps due to a slightly different voting system. However, last year saw Terry Wogan quit as the UK's commentator to be replaced, this year, by Graham Norton and lots of viewers seemed to be none too happy with this, perhaps due to loyalty to Wogan or the fact that he was known and loved for having such a dry sense of humour or maybes because they just don't like Norton who, by the way, did an ok job.
Anyway, out of 25 acts, the United Kingdom (Hubby and I awarded 14 out of 20)came fifth this year with 173 points, which was fairly impressive when you consider we came joint bottom last year, and whilst Norway won with ,the biggest score ever recorded, 387 points( we awarded 13 out of 20), our personal preferences were for myself - Germany, who came 20th with a total of just 35 points though we awarded 16 out of 20 and for Hubby - Ukraine who, though we awarded 15 out of 20, came 12th with a slightly more respectable score of 76. There really is no accounting for taste and , if these scores are anything to go by, Hubby and I obviously have little in the way of taste - musically speaking ,of course!
This year the competition was held in Russia as they won last year, I couldn't name the song or singer but I do know they scored 272 points with Niece N and I giving them 11 out of 20,and what a show it was. The stadium was huge, seating 2500 people (but don't quote me on that) and was quite spectacular As a finale they had a stage above the heads of the audience which was covered with some kind of plastic sheeting, for want of a better description, in which dancers appeared to be "swimming". The stage was then slowly lowered so that it was only centimetres above the heads of the audience, it must have felt like being in a river. As I say, spectacular, and to think we very nearly didn't watch it.
There are always complaints of block (countries voting for other countries who just happen to share a border) or political voting but this, on the whole, didn't seem to occur nearly as much this year - perhaps due to a slightly different voting system. However, last year saw Terry Wogan quit as the UK's commentator to be replaced, this year, by Graham Norton and lots of viewers seemed to be none too happy with this, perhaps due to loyalty to Wogan or the fact that he was known and loved for having such a dry sense of humour or maybes because they just don't like Norton who, by the way, did an ok job.
Anyway, out of 25 acts, the United Kingdom (Hubby and I awarded 14 out of 20)came fifth this year with 173 points, which was fairly impressive when you consider we came joint bottom last year, and whilst Norway won with ,the biggest score ever recorded, 387 points( we awarded 13 out of 20), our personal preferences were for myself - Germany, who came 20th with a total of just 35 points though we awarded 16 out of 20 and for Hubby - Ukraine who, though we awarded 15 out of 20, came 12th with a slightly more respectable score of 76. There really is no accounting for taste and , if these scores are anything to go by, Hubby and I obviously have little in the way of taste - musically speaking ,of course!
Skool Jokes!
Once upon a time, there was an inflatable boy who went to an inflatable school and was taught by an inflatable teacher.
One day, the boy brought a pin to school. The teacher said,
"You've let the school down, You've let me down, but most of all, You've let yourself down!"
How do you spot a cannibal kid in the school cafeteria?
He asks for the cook!
TEACHER: I want you to give me a sentence using the word fascinate.
PUPIL: I have a coat with nine buttons but I can only fascinate.
One day, the boy brought a pin to school. The teacher said,
"You've let the school down, You've let me down, but most of all, You've let yourself down!"
How do you spot a cannibal kid in the school cafeteria?
He asks for the cook!
TEACHER: I want you to give me a sentence using the word fascinate.
PUPIL: I have a coat with nine buttons but I can only fascinate.
15 May 2009
Revelation.
Revelation By C. J. Sansom
Spring 1543.
King Henry VIII is wooing Lady Catherine Parr, whom he wants for his sixth wife. But this time the object of his affection is resisting. Archbishop Cranmer and the embattled Protestant faction at court are watching keenly, for Lady Catherine is known to share their reformist sympathies.
Matthew Shardlake, meanwhile, is working on the case of a teenage boy, a religious maniac who has been placed by the King's council in the Bedlam hospital for the insane. Should he be released as his parents want, when his terrifying actions could lead to him being burned as a heretic?
When an old friend is horrifically murdered, Shardlake promises his widow, for whom he has long had complicated feelings, to bring his killer to justice. His search leads him to connections not only with the boy in Bedlam but with Cranmer and Catherine Parr- and with the dark prophecies of the book of Revelation.
As London's Bishop Bonner prepares a purge of Protestants, Shardlake, together with his assistant Jack Barak and his friend Guy Malton, follows the trail of a series of horrific murders that shake them all to the core, and which are already igniting frenzied talk of witchcraft and demonic possession.
For what else would the Tudor mind make of a serial killer....?
Spring 1543.
King Henry VIII is wooing Lady Catherine Parr, whom he wants for his sixth wife. But this time the object of his affection is resisting. Archbishop Cranmer and the embattled Protestant faction at court are watching keenly, for Lady Catherine is known to share their reformist sympathies.
Matthew Shardlake, meanwhile, is working on the case of a teenage boy, a religious maniac who has been placed by the King's council in the Bedlam hospital for the insane. Should he be released as his parents want, when his terrifying actions could lead to him being burned as a heretic?
When an old friend is horrifically murdered, Shardlake promises his widow, for whom he has long had complicated feelings, to bring his killer to justice. His search leads him to connections not only with the boy in Bedlam but with Cranmer and Catherine Parr- and with the dark prophecies of the book of Revelation.
As London's Bishop Bonner prepares a purge of Protestants, Shardlake, together with his assistant Jack Barak and his friend Guy Malton, follows the trail of a series of horrific murders that shake them all to the core, and which are already igniting frenzied talk of witchcraft and demonic possession.
For what else would the Tudor mind make of a serial killer....?
The fourth instalment in the Matthew Shardlake series and every bit as impressive as the first three, for me perhaps even more so as this book sees the reintroduction of Guy Malton who was only briefly mentioned in the last. It is through Guy, now a physician but once a Benedictine monk, originally from Spain and with Muslim forebears (he is often referred to as the Old Moor), that we get to explore the advances, or otherwise, of medicine as practiced at the time - fascinating but often quite gory stuff. The passages involving the teeth-puller certainly made me grateful for modern dentistry.
Set in the 1500's, when "To live in London since the monasteries were dissolved was to be inured of pitiful scenes everywhere. Most people simply looked away, made the sufferers invisible. Many beggars were former monastic servants, others poor folks who had come in from the countryside where much land was being enclosed to pasture sheep, their villages demolished, and the sick who had once been able to find at least temporary shelter at the monastic hospitals now lay in the streets and often died there", Revelation is a real page" turner" of a novel ,with so many plot twists , it had me riveted from start to finish.
So much more then just a historical whodunit, we get to explore so many issues in a time when many changes were occurring, Revelation is also, amongst many other things, a study of relationships - friendship, unrequited love, love gone wrong, the unconditional love of parents for their son are all looked at as, of course, are other more negative relationships that are largely based on the fear, prejudice and ignorance of the times. In a word - Brilliant, I can hardly wait for the next instalment.
Bush Babies & Hedgehogs.
Did you know:
Biologists at the University Of Texas have found that bush babies, the small African primates, share DNA with a diverse range of creatures including hedgehogs! They believe the genetic material could have been inserted into the DNA after being carried by a virus. They suggest the transfer happened between 15 and 45 million years ago!
Biologists at the University Of Texas have found that bush babies, the small African primates, share DNA with a diverse range of creatures including hedgehogs! They believe the genetic material could have been inserted into the DNA after being carried by a virus. They suggest the transfer happened between 15 and 45 million years ago!
14 May 2009
Like peeping at .........
I thought I was finished with my daily dose of blogging (Hubby has certainly unleashed something by suggesting I start) but, being particularly bored today, decided to further test out my new found skills. I know, I thought to myself, I'll look back at Hubby's earlier blog entries. Well this, I must confess, felt a bit naughty, almost like peeping at another persons diary but hey-ho I suppose this information is there for the world and it's wife to view if it so desires.
What I found brought back so many memories and had me both laughing and crying. I was particularly taken with his recall of (A) The day we met -How I hated him, I went home in floods of tears vowing to never go back to work.Thank goodness I did. (B) The day of the non proposal - yes Hubby I'm still waiting and, finally, (C) The day I came home to find him dressed in black stockings, french knickers (red ones at that) and a nuns habit. If it wasn't for him continually complaining that the suspender belt kept "twanging" up his leg and, of course, it being in aid of charity I'd have worried he was enjoying the experience a little too much. How I wish he hadn't already posted those particular photographs - I'll have to dig out some more now.
In any case without getting all nostalgic, and boring people to death in the process, I'd just like to say how glad I am to have entered the world of blogging which proves to hold a lifetime of personal memories along with the opportunity to take a peep, no matter how brief, into the lives of others. That said, can you imagine what will happen when future generations /visitors from other planets (delete as applicable) get their hands on this "living history"? Goodness only knows what they will make of it all - I know I'm still having difficulties.
What I found brought back so many memories and had me both laughing and crying. I was particularly taken with his recall of (A) The day we met -How I hated him, I went home in floods of tears vowing to never go back to work.Thank goodness I did. (B) The day of the non proposal - yes Hubby I'm still waiting and, finally, (C) The day I came home to find him dressed in black stockings, french knickers (red ones at that) and a nuns habit. If it wasn't for him continually complaining that the suspender belt kept "twanging" up his leg and, of course, it being in aid of charity I'd have worried he was enjoying the experience a little too much. How I wish he hadn't already posted those particular photographs - I'll have to dig out some more now.
In any case without getting all nostalgic, and boring people to death in the process, I'd just like to say how glad I am to have entered the world of blogging which proves to hold a lifetime of personal memories along with the opportunity to take a peep, no matter how brief, into the lives of others. That said, can you imagine what will happen when future generations /visitors from other planets (delete as applicable) get their hands on this "living history"? Goodness only knows what they will make of it all - I know I'm still having difficulties.
Lament For A Drunken Son.
O where hae ye been, my son, my son?
O where hae ye been, ma bonny young Will?
Aa've been te the club, Aa cud de wi' a sub
For Aa'm bad wi the beor and Aa've had me fill.
where gat ye yor beor, my son , my son?
Where gat ye yor beor, ma bonny young will?
Aah gorrit at Carters, its rotted me garters
And Aa've boozed me way up and doon Westgate Hill.
What gat ye for beor, my son, my son?
What gat ye for beor, hast been on the broon?
Aa've had broon, Aa had ambers in the back at Balmbras,
Aa'm weary o' boozin and fain would lie doon.
What became o' your money, my son, my son?
What became o' your money, my bonny bit gem?
Aa spent it on lasses and glasses o' Basses,
Aa'm weary of boozin and Aa think Aa'll stay hyem.
As sent to me by an old friend from London who wanted to know " What does this translate to in English, please?"
O where hae ye been, ma bonny young Will?
Aa've been te the club, Aa cud de wi' a sub
For Aa'm bad wi the beor and Aa've had me fill.
where gat ye yor beor, my son , my son?
Where gat ye yor beor, ma bonny young will?
Aah gorrit at Carters, its rotted me garters
And Aa've boozed me way up and doon Westgate Hill.
What gat ye for beor, my son, my son?
What gat ye for beor, hast been on the broon?
Aa've had broon, Aa had ambers in the back at Balmbras,
Aa'm weary o' boozin and fain would lie doon.
What became o' your money, my son, my son?
What became o' your money, my bonny bit gem?
Aa spent it on lasses and glasses o' Basses,
Aa'm weary of boozin and Aa think Aa'll stay hyem.
As sent to me by an old friend from London who wanted to know " What does this translate to in English, please?"
13 May 2009
Helping Hedgehogs.
Around this time of year hoglets are being born. The usual time for the first births of the year is May, though this can be earlier if the weather has been mild.
To give mum and babies the best chance of survival it is essential that the nest is not disturbed. We know how tempting it is to "have a peek" or show others the nest, but it could easily scare mum into moving nests, or even attacking her young, so please be patient. Offering meat based pet foods or chopped unsalted peanuts along with fresh water near to the nest site (though far enough away to ensure potential predators aren't alerted to nests) will help keep mum well fed. It means she won't have to travel so far to get the food she needs and therefore reduces the risk of her running into trouble and not making it back to the nest. It will also supplement the babies food, helping them reach a healthy weight for when they wander off on their own when food may not be so plentiful for a while.
Please take care when gardening, hedgehog nests are likely to be in long grasses, hedges, compost heaps and bonfire piles. It is vital that any area is thoroughly checked before garden machinery is used. Every year carers see so many horrific injuries caused by strimmers and mowers that could so easily have been avoided. Compost heaps should be checked before digging in the fork, and bonfires moved or at least checked immediately prior to lighting.
Ponds are great for wildlife, and hedgehogs will drink from them. However, they sometimes fall in but are great swimmers; the problem comes when they cannot escape because of steep slippery sides. Keep pond and pool levels topped up so the sides aren't so high. A sloping edge is ideal, but half submerged rocks could offer a lifeline to a tired hedgehog. Some members suggest putting a piece of hessian or plastic coated wire over the edge just into the water so the hedgehogs can use it to climb out. If possible check ponds and pools every morning after hedgehogs have been out and about overnight.
During dry spells hedgehogs have trouble finding enough natural food and drink so it's especially important to offer help if you can to prevent them becoming dehydrated and starving.*
It is fairly widely reported that hedgehogs are in decline; these are all very simple things we can do to ensure any hedgehogs visiting our gardens are as safe as possible.
As taken from newsletter issue 52 (spring 2009) of The British Hedgehog Preservation Society.
* Petty Witter says " Remember, it is a myth - hedgehogs should never be offered milk or bread."
To give mum and babies the best chance of survival it is essential that the nest is not disturbed. We know how tempting it is to "have a peek" or show others the nest, but it could easily scare mum into moving nests, or even attacking her young, so please be patient. Offering meat based pet foods or chopped unsalted peanuts along with fresh water near to the nest site (though far enough away to ensure potential predators aren't alerted to nests) will help keep mum well fed. It means she won't have to travel so far to get the food she needs and therefore reduces the risk of her running into trouble and not making it back to the nest. It will also supplement the babies food, helping them reach a healthy weight for when they wander off on their own when food may not be so plentiful for a while.
Please take care when gardening, hedgehog nests are likely to be in long grasses, hedges, compost heaps and bonfire piles. It is vital that any area is thoroughly checked before garden machinery is used. Every year carers see so many horrific injuries caused by strimmers and mowers that could so easily have been avoided. Compost heaps should be checked before digging in the fork, and bonfires moved or at least checked immediately prior to lighting.
Ponds are great for wildlife, and hedgehogs will drink from them. However, they sometimes fall in but are great swimmers; the problem comes when they cannot escape because of steep slippery sides. Keep pond and pool levels topped up so the sides aren't so high. A sloping edge is ideal, but half submerged rocks could offer a lifeline to a tired hedgehog. Some members suggest putting a piece of hessian or plastic coated wire over the edge just into the water so the hedgehogs can use it to climb out. If possible check ponds and pools every morning after hedgehogs have been out and about overnight.
During dry spells hedgehogs have trouble finding enough natural food and drink so it's especially important to offer help if you can to prevent them becoming dehydrated and starving.*
It is fairly widely reported that hedgehogs are in decline; these are all very simple things we can do to ensure any hedgehogs visiting our gardens are as safe as possible.
As taken from newsletter issue 52 (spring 2009) of The British Hedgehog Preservation Society.
* Petty Witter says " Remember, it is a myth - hedgehogs should never be offered milk or bread."
12 May 2009
For Grandmere, another of Hubby's favourite jokes.
A pet HAMSTER, after a long and happy life, dies. It's distraught owner, after much thought and many tears, decides to bury it in the garden under her strawberry plants.
The next year the strawberries grow in abundance, there are far too many to eat, so the woman decides her only option is - JAM. Once made, the woman, sick of muesli, dreams of strawberry jam on toast. But the jam is inedible, not nearly sweet enough, so the woman uses it as fertilizer (as you would) and digs it into her flower bed.
The next year the flowers , TULIPS, grow in abundance, the woman doesn't have nearly enough vases to display them, and being a kind soul, gives them to her next visitor. "
"Ooh, What lovely flowers, such bright colours. Wherever did you get them?" asks the grateful neighbour.
"Well." replies the woman, "To be totally honest, they are in fact, TULIPS from HAMSTER JAM."
The next year the strawberries grow in abundance, there are far too many to eat, so the woman decides her only option is - JAM. Once made, the woman, sick of muesli, dreams of strawberry jam on toast. But the jam is inedible, not nearly sweet enough, so the woman uses it as fertilizer (as you would) and digs it into her flower bed.
The next year the flowers , TULIPS, grow in abundance, the woman doesn't have nearly enough vases to display them, and being a kind soul, gives them to her next visitor. "
"Ooh, What lovely flowers, such bright colours. Wherever did you get them?" asks the grateful neighbour.
"Well." replies the woman, "To be totally honest, they are in fact, TULIPS from HAMSTER JAM."
11 May 2009
Personal Responsibility.
Having just finished with the Sunday newspapers, two articles, sadly similar, caught my eye - neither of them good, both, quite honestly, worrying.
The first involved a young woman of 19 who was sitting outside a pub with friends at 3.15 in the morning when they were allegedly approached by a man who began talking to them. The woman then left her friends and claims she was attacked in an alleyway yards away.
The second story involves a young woman, separated from her friends, who allegedly accepted a lift home from a complete stranger after an evening out at a nightclub and was seriously assaulted.
Now in no way do I belong to the brigade who believe that young women "ask" for this sort of thing to happen if they are "out at all hours", drunk or "half naked" - in other words not conforming to how society believes "good" girls should behave BUT I do believe we must all take some responsibility for our own safety. For goodness sake didn't these women have any comprehension of the potential danger they were putting themselves in? And where were their "friends"? I now I'm no longer a spring chicken (nor was I ever into nightclubbing, I left all that to my younger sister) but it was always a golden rule amongst us girls that, no matter what, we stuck together and made sure we all got home safely.
Such a sad, scary age we are living in. For goodness sake it should be safe for these youngsters to wander the streets, leave their drinks unattended without fear of someone drugging them, whilst dressed as would have horrified our parents but it isn't, so they must take some steps towards keeping themselves safe and I'm afraid that generally means not talking to strangers and never getting into a car with one - you know taking heed of the advice you were given as children.
The first involved a young woman of 19 who was sitting outside a pub with friends at 3.15 in the morning when they were allegedly approached by a man who began talking to them. The woman then left her friends and claims she was attacked in an alleyway yards away.
The second story involves a young woman, separated from her friends, who allegedly accepted a lift home from a complete stranger after an evening out at a nightclub and was seriously assaulted.
Now in no way do I belong to the brigade who believe that young women "ask" for this sort of thing to happen if they are "out at all hours", drunk or "half naked" - in other words not conforming to how society believes "good" girls should behave BUT I do believe we must all take some responsibility for our own safety. For goodness sake didn't these women have any comprehension of the potential danger they were putting themselves in? And where were their "friends"? I now I'm no longer a spring chicken (nor was I ever into nightclubbing, I left all that to my younger sister) but it was always a golden rule amongst us girls that, no matter what, we stuck together and made sure we all got home safely.
Such a sad, scary age we are living in. For goodness sake it should be safe for these youngsters to wander the streets, leave their drinks unattended without fear of someone drugging them, whilst dressed as would have horrified our parents but it isn't, so they must take some steps towards keeping themselves safe and I'm afraid that generally means not talking to strangers and never getting into a car with one - you know taking heed of the advice you were given as children.
10 May 2009
Dog 'n' Doc
Man: Doctor, Doctor, you have to help me.Doctor: Why sir, whatever is the matter?
Man: Well, for a while now I think I've been turning into a dog.
Doctor: I see. If you hop up onto the couch, I'll have a look then.
Man: No, I can't do that! I'm not allowed on the furniture.
9 May 2009
A Green Prayer.
Save me a clean stream, flowing
to unpolluted seas;
lend me the bare earth, growing,
untamed flowers and trees.
May I share safe skies
when I wake, every day
with birds and butterflies?
Grant me a space where I can play
with water, rocks, trees and sand;
lend me forests, rivers, hills and sea.
Keep me a place in this old land,
somewhere to grow, somewhere to be.
Jane Whittle.
From the New Oxford Treasury of Childrens Poems.
to unpolluted seas;
lend me the bare earth, growing,
untamed flowers and trees.
May I share safe skies
when I wake, every day
with birds and butterflies?
Grant me a space where I can play
with water, rocks, trees and sand;
lend me forests, rivers, hills and sea.
Keep me a place in this old land,
somewhere to grow, somewhere to be.
Jane Whittle.
From the New Oxford Treasury of Childrens Poems.
8 May 2009
Helpless.
Helpless By Barbara Gowdy.
Celia is the struggling single mother of an exceptionally beautiful child: nine year old Rachel. Aware of the precarious balance of the life she has built for them, when Rachel disappears one hot summer night during a blackout, Celia is stricken with guilt and terror.
The media coverage of the abduction is tremendous and closely monitoring events is Ron, an appliance repairman who lives nearby. Though Rachel is a stranger to him, he convinces himself that she is his responsibility. His feelings for her are at once tender, misguided and chillingly possessive.
Helpless is a haunting, provocative story of heart-stopping suspense that offers extraordinary insight into the complexities of love.
I'm at a bit of a loss as to what to write about this novel. Being a book club read it wasn't necessarily a book I would have chosen for myself but once started I found it difficult to put down but why this was I don't quite know.
Due to the subject matter of the book it was, at times, a difficult, even distressing, read and I must confess that I felt quite guilty on finding myself having a degree of empathy with the obviously damaged Ron but of all the characters, I found his to be the best written and certainly, along with Nancy, the most believable.
"Helpless" I found strangely compelling though not very well written, with, on the whole, weakly drawn disappointing characters, and an ending that was, well, "nice" but somehow too convenient. It was, however, thought provoking and certainly had me thinking about love and all it's many guises which made it the novel it was.
Celia is the struggling single mother of an exceptionally beautiful child: nine year old Rachel. Aware of the precarious balance of the life she has built for them, when Rachel disappears one hot summer night during a blackout, Celia is stricken with guilt and terror.
The media coverage of the abduction is tremendous and closely monitoring events is Ron, an appliance repairman who lives nearby. Though Rachel is a stranger to him, he convinces himself that she is his responsibility. His feelings for her are at once tender, misguided and chillingly possessive.
Helpless is a haunting, provocative story of heart-stopping suspense that offers extraordinary insight into the complexities of love.
I'm at a bit of a loss as to what to write about this novel. Being a book club read it wasn't necessarily a book I would have chosen for myself but once started I found it difficult to put down but why this was I don't quite know.
Due to the subject matter of the book it was, at times, a difficult, even distressing, read and I must confess that I felt quite guilty on finding myself having a degree of empathy with the obviously damaged Ron but of all the characters, I found his to be the best written and certainly, along with Nancy, the most believable.
"Helpless" I found strangely compelling though not very well written, with, on the whole, weakly drawn disappointing characters, and an ending that was, well, "nice" but somehow too convenient. It was, however, thought provoking and certainly had me thinking about love and all it's many guises which made it the novel it was.
7 May 2009
Horse Play
Did you hear about the jockey who was thrown from his horse and badly injured?
He was taken to hospital where it was confirmed he was in a stable condition.
He was taken to hospital where it was confirmed he was in a stable condition.
6 May 2009
The 2½ Pillars Of Wisdom.
THE 2½ Pillars of Wisdom By Alexander McCall Smith.
Welcome to the extraordinary world of Professor Dr Moritz-Maria von Igelfeld, an unnaturally tall and memorable character whose sublime insouciance is a blend of the cultivated pomposity of Frasier Crane and Inspector Clouseau's haples gaucherie.
Von Igelfeld inhabits the rarefied world of the Institute of Romance Philology at Regensburg, which he shares with his equally tall and equally ridiculous colleagues, Professors Florianus Prinzel and Detlev Amadeus Unterholzer.
We follow von Igelfeld from his student days, through his search for ancient Irish obscenities to an aching infatuation with a dentist fatale and a Venetian sojourn. Among the Ozark mountains of Arkansas, von Igelfeld is dogged by dachshunds, and aboard a Mediterranean cruise ship he quickly finds himself the star attraction.
Having read another book by this author, who is perhaps best known for his "The No. 1 Ladies' Detective Agency" novels as recently televised on the BBC, and finding it rather bland and very predictable, I was surprised to find myself reading this one but then it had come highly recommended by another member of my book club.
I was straight away taken by this novel, a trilogy incorporating "Portuguese Irregular Verbs", "The Finer Points Of Sausage Dogs" and "At The Villa Of Reduced Circumstances", such was the simplicity of its front cover and besides which, with my love of hedgehogs, how could I fail to enjoy a book with a main character called von Igelfeld? Igelfeld, of course, translating from German as Hedgehog Field.
As a whole it was cleverly written, very well observed (Especially the cultural differences. An example of this perhaps being as von Igelfeld pointed out " The English were very difficult to read; half the things they said were not meant to be taken seriously, but it was impossible, if you were German, to detect which half") and extremely witty with a twist in every tale though perhaps slightly less so in the third instalment. I very rarely laugh out loud reading any book but found myself doing just that on several occasions. The passage involving von Igelfeld's visit to Goa and the subsequent incident which sees Professor J.G.K.L. Singh's train fall off a railway bridge and into a river where "Our dear colleague was spared drowning, but was sadly inconvenienced by a crocodile" still has me giggling days later.
An entertaining read from start to finish, which just goes to prove that even if you don't enjoy one book by an author it is sometimes well worth at least considering reading another, I shall certainly be buying a copy for our home library.
Welcome to the extraordinary world of Professor Dr Moritz-Maria von Igelfeld, an unnaturally tall and memorable character whose sublime insouciance is a blend of the cultivated pomposity of Frasier Crane and Inspector Clouseau's haples gaucherie.
Von Igelfeld inhabits the rarefied world of the Institute of Romance Philology at Regensburg, which he shares with his equally tall and equally ridiculous colleagues, Professors Florianus Prinzel and Detlev Amadeus Unterholzer.
We follow von Igelfeld from his student days, through his search for ancient Irish obscenities to an aching infatuation with a dentist fatale and a Venetian sojourn. Among the Ozark mountains of Arkansas, von Igelfeld is dogged by dachshunds, and aboard a Mediterranean cruise ship he quickly finds himself the star attraction.
Having read another book by this author, who is perhaps best known for his "The No. 1 Ladies' Detective Agency" novels as recently televised on the BBC, and finding it rather bland and very predictable, I was surprised to find myself reading this one but then it had come highly recommended by another member of my book club.
I was straight away taken by this novel, a trilogy incorporating "Portuguese Irregular Verbs", "The Finer Points Of Sausage Dogs" and "At The Villa Of Reduced Circumstances", such was the simplicity of its front cover and besides which, with my love of hedgehogs, how could I fail to enjoy a book with a main character called von Igelfeld? Igelfeld, of course, translating from German as Hedgehog Field.
As a whole it was cleverly written, very well observed (Especially the cultural differences. An example of this perhaps being as von Igelfeld pointed out " The English were very difficult to read; half the things they said were not meant to be taken seriously, but it was impossible, if you were German, to detect which half") and extremely witty with a twist in every tale though perhaps slightly less so in the third instalment. I very rarely laugh out loud reading any book but found myself doing just that on several occasions. The passage involving von Igelfeld's visit to Goa and the subsequent incident which sees Professor J.G.K.L. Singh's train fall off a railway bridge and into a river where "Our dear colleague was spared drowning, but was sadly inconvenienced by a crocodile" still has me giggling days later.
An entertaining read from start to finish, which just goes to prove that even if you don't enjoy one book by an author it is sometimes well worth at least considering reading another, I shall certainly be buying a copy for our home library.
5 May 2009
For Becky Boo
If you look at this blog, Becky Boo, this joke is especially for you.
What do you call a fly without any wings?
A walk.
What do you call a fly without any wings?
A walk.
Gutted.
Hubby and I had a good Bank holiday week-end almost spoilt by an article in this weeks Radio Times, I wouldn't care but it was tucked away where I can only presume many would have missed it. The article that had upset us so? And I quote....
" sky1 has bought the rights to the new (fifth) series of HOUSE and will premiere it this summer. It will be repeated on Hallmark and will thus not be shown on Five or any other Freeview channel. "
All very well but what happens to those of us without Sky or indeed cable t.v. of any sort? It's getting to the stage where Hubby and I will think twice before starting to watch any of the major new American blockbusters. I, for one, can't help but think that The Mentalist could be the next to go the same way as House or indeed Lost which was, excuse the pun, lost to Freeview viewers after series one.
At this rate Hubby and I will have to put principles aside and subscribe to Sky or much more likely the House box sets will appear on our shopping list. Anyway, I am sorry if this is news to any House watching, non Sky subscribing, Pettywitter followers out there- I may have just ruined your day.
" sky1 has bought the rights to the new (fifth) series of HOUSE and will premiere it this summer. It will be repeated on Hallmark and will thus not be shown on Five or any other Freeview channel. "
All very well but what happens to those of us without Sky or indeed cable t.v. of any sort? It's getting to the stage where Hubby and I will think twice before starting to watch any of the major new American blockbusters. I, for one, can't help but think that The Mentalist could be the next to go the same way as House or indeed Lost which was, excuse the pun, lost to Freeview viewers after series one.
At this rate Hubby and I will have to put principles aside and subscribe to Sky or much more likely the House box sets will appear on our shopping list. Anyway, I am sorry if this is news to any House watching, non Sky subscribing, Pettywitter followers out there- I may have just ruined your day.
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