Eccentric Amblings and Ramblings From Gnat Bottomed Towers

Ah-ha I thought to myself one morning earlier this week- as Mr GBT was showering [I know, I know, tmi but I am a big beaked old bird!] I thought I shall have 5 minutes with the crossword before I have to perform my ablutions. Well that's what I thought.....the furry varmit had different ideas. Look at her the picture of innocence... Well don't believe it! As was to be expected she had other plans - those of us in servitude to felines will know that firstly, the one thing cats hate is to be ignored when they want attention and secondly, they know themselves to be experts in all things and that includes crosswords. Ho hum- every time I picked up the pencil to fill in a clue she felt she knew better, so to stop me from completing them incorrectly, she pushed my hand away vigorously with one of her well aimed furry head butts. By this time she and I really had had a cross word and my window of opportunity had passed. Making myself clean and nice to know had become a priority so

Such marvellous things books- as often as not when reading it brings me into contact with a whole host of new information or sends me off at a tangent to find out what an unfamiliar word or phrase means. Such was the case in point with this borrowed book that I'd read through quickly yesterday. The Underground Railroad was first set up in the 1800s and was a network of safehouses and trusted individuals who helped to free slaves from their incarceration in the South and escape to safety in Canada where they could not be brought back. It became known as the Underground Railroad in 1831 because of the similarities to the railroad network- the slaves followed routes, the safehouses were known as stations and the leader was called the conductor and the runaways were passengers. The underground is derived from its secretive nature upon which it depended for its success so that the slaves could avoid recapture by the slaveholders or officials who were pursuing them. Slavery

If my memory serves me rightly I learnt to play this on the recorder at school. Sadly since then not only have I misplaced the instrument but also the ability to play it! And another track from Mr Scott Joplin -  Maple Leaf Rag. Two hearty, toe tapping little numbers to hopefully start your week off right! Arilx

This is a smorgasbord post of basically all my wonderings and wanderings that can't be persuaded to fit neatly anywhere else! Firstly my new awen pendant made of yew [my favourite tree] and made for me by one of my dearest chums as a marvellous surprise on Friday at our little Lammas rite [there are only 3 of us who come together to celebrate so it really is small scale!]. I wore it for my dancing yesterday. A most lovely sweetie display spotted in a shop window as we hurtled past in Eastbourne- fortunately it was closed. Arils like sweeties and having broken the Guinness world record for demolishing a big bag of liquorice allsorts on Friday, I thought I should leave others the chance at the other sweetie eating records. I'm not known as the Snackette Queen for nothing you know! It takes a great deal of time and dedication to the cause to reach such heights! Witchy potions espied in another shop window- you never know when you might need a top up of the old eye of ne

Incredible experience and I danced everything pretty much okish huzzah!! I'll put up some other non dancing photos in another post shortly, but for now I shall inflict a few Morrisy ones to give you a flavour of some of the sides we were dancing with- it's organised so that you and the other sides dance a couple each before processing [call that nattering and ambling- too hot to for any extra dancing yesterday in full tatters thank ye!] to the next stand. The procession was led by John Barleycorn Firstly the extraordinary Pentacle Drummers- if you like tribal drumming do google them they are just incredible. There are loads of them there- these are just the three who lead it [I think] Next Hunter's Moon, like the Pentacle Drummers, another brilliant local side. They always wear black and silver and blacken their faces. This traditionally [there are many theories as to how Border morris originated] comes from the time when the poor who worked the land would deman

I am exceedingly overthrilled about this coming Saturday for it promises many new adventures- having lived in Sussex for the most part of my life I am being wildly rash and crossing the county border from West to East in order to pay my first ever visit to Eastbourne. I have already dug out my tartan rug and flask in anticipation of needing to find a roadside stretch of tarmac upon which to place my deckchair in order to enjoy my picnic to the full! A bit of light drizzle so that I can reach for my cagoule would just be the icing on the cake. And why this sudden impulse to travel one might ask....I am incredibly lucky to be waving my big stick [it will be sunny- I am steadfastly discounting any naff weather reports that dare to suggest otherwise] at the Eastbourne Lammas Fest. It's an event that as a Druid, I have longed to go to for as long as it's been held, but we have always been away on our hols but not this year chaps. Hooray!! Other than the odd shopping trip

There is nothing so much I love as a bit of unpretentious rude poetry to make me titter. I share with you a couple of my favourites which amuse me in a Les Dawson meets Beryl Cook type way! Firstly the one off Roald Dahl A Hand In The Bird  I am a maiden who is forty, And a maiden I shall stay. There are some who call me haughty, But I care not what they say. I was running the tombola At our church bazaar today, And doing it with gusto In my usual jolly way When suddenly, I knew not why, There came a funny feeling Of something crawling up my thigh! I nearly hit the ceiling! A mouse! I thought. How foul! How mean! How exquisitely tickly! Quite soon I know I'm going to scream. I've got to catch it quickly. I made a grab. I caught the mouse, Now right inside my knickers. A mouse my foot! It was a HAND! Great Scott! It was the vicar's! And a short one which I encountered when doing my 'A' Level English back in the 18th century. Groupie-

We've all made it to the end of the school year- huzzah no packed lunches for me to make for 6 weeks. The small person is on sandwich duty until September- at the moment he's too young for a paid job but he starts a voluntary job at the local library helping out with the national summer reading scheme for 4-11 year olds this week [I gave him the initial paperwork but left it to him to decide whether he wanted to pursue it or not]. I remember what a godsend a free activity like that was for us that first summer following Mr GBT's redundancy. Between that, a couple of holidays and meeting up with his mates for tennis, cycling etc he should be kept fairly busy aswell as the obligatory two weeks spent twonking about on Facebook! Anyway it's a mighty fine cliche but I have to leave you with the uber cool Mr Alice Cooper. I am swooning over the 1970s stage glad rags the chaps are wearing - the term itself originated in the 19th century and was a term for seamen who went ash

I am extremely good at not just jumping but positively leaping or even triple jumping to conclusions when I am not in possession of all the facts. It's a bad habit and one which has occasionally got me into trouble...I am slowly getting better but I do still from time to time open my big trap to change feet. Sometimes I read something that reminds me about waiting before I reach judgements. This is one such instance..... "At times in life, it's not other people or events beyond your control that hold you back or get in your way. Your own attitude can be just as big a problem. At school in Ghana, Africa, I was one of a group of boys who sat on the floor of our professor's office for a weekly lesson in 'Spoken English'. One day the professor put a large sheet of white paper on the wall. The paper had a little black dot on the right-hand corner. When the professor asked "Boys, what do you see?" we all shouted together "A black dot!". The p

Dear Naughty Torties and Honorary Naughty Torties, Welcome to the summer mewsletter of mayhem, mischief and fun. Firstly, I have been hearing rather worrying whisperings that some newer members may have been vacating their seats to members of staff when asked. Please can I remind you that in this hot weather you may sit wherever you fancy- it is after all your home that you share with your staff not the other way round. They don't have a fur coat to contend with and it is far too hot for them to provide a lap sitting service. I find my particular problem is that she has developed a tendency to sit on the chair in front of that dratted computer thingy [you know that box with the most inanimate boring mouse in the world- I could sort her out with a real one in exchange for some smoked salmon] first thing in the morning which is where I wish to catch my first rays. My solution is simple- announce your arrival with the mithering miaow and then stretch up on your back legs and ancho

I can't help but channel my inner TOWIE girl [I am the real deal and from said county so can be as rude about Essex girls as I like...I hasten to add that there are bits of Essex I love and hold special memories for me] when I hear certain tracks so it's on with the Louboutins [£4.99 carboot sale] and sling the Louis Vuitton bag [£4.99 local market] on the floor so I can dance around it....or my version of it flat shoes and a greenman bag! So I've just heaved my carcase off the chair and am off to strut my wobbly funky stuff. Anyone care to join me...... Arilx

I leave you unashamedly with a clip of our side dancing my favourite Thor's Hammer- this clip wasn't from yesterday but it was included in one of the sets. I am marvellous at it on practice night but don't yet dance it out in public- everytime I try to do it I show them an alternative version to the one I've been taught!! Be warned- this is a dance for rain and flooding!  Arilx

Well two pints of it to be precise...... Plus a hearty sup of this This is one of the perks of being a morris dancer and in my case, it brings a whole host of loves together in one package- dancing [not awfully good at yet], live folk music and best of all real ale [very good at!] We were invited to dance at a local microbrewery called Welton's yesterday. They have several regular cask ales but they also launch regular monthly lines...at the moment they have one called King or Queen as it's awaiting the imminent arrival of the new baby before they can finally announce its name. Although, I wasn't in charge of the metal box with a wheel at each corner yesterday, I did taste their latest brew called Top Dog- it's only 1% but is a super tasting beer and I think you would think it a much higher alcohol content from that alone. For many years our town had its own brewery and chain of pubs, but sadly it was disbanded a while ago and the operation was moved down to D

To me the glorious sight of a field full of poppies signifies late summer and the harvest. The first photo was taken earlier in the week on the edge of a neighbour's lawn. By the next day the strong breeze had blown away all the petals and the moment of transient beauty was gone. These yellow and orange Welsh poppies were taken in my garden last year but the orange ones have put on another impressive show this year. The yellow one stubbornly refuses to self seed despite my best attempts and so I have just the one still! This pink one I saw on my recent visit to Manor Farm Finally I have included this one that I saw in Devon some while ago because I was just so taken with a spotty poppy and I have never seen one since! Arilx

These days I am more than happy to admit I am a round peg in a square hole. For a long time outwardly I tried my hardest to be a square peg in a square hole, but my efforts failed spectacularly and caused me some considerable distress along the way. I have had several little epiphanies over time and now try to plough my own furrow. However, old habits die hard so I am thankful to the CBT I received in the latter part of last year as this has helped me to identify some of my old behaviours that hold me back. As the saying goes, knowledge is power, so now I am able to make gradual changes so I can continue to move forward. It has also given me the confidence to try new things this year despite the possible risk of failure which is why I am now blogging and trying my hand at morris dancing! I am still a work in progress but moving steadily in the right direction.  I have always always had a sneaking admiration those who are just themselves no matter how eccentric others might think that i

And that's just the poor teachers. I think everyone is just treading water now waiting for the end of term including my own small person.... I should point out he's a little bigger than this these days- he starts year 11 in September and has just had his final sports day ever...sob! I meanwhile have a permanent crick in my neck where I have to lean my head back to look up at him when I am scolding him :-) Anyway for all of us who have had contact with tiny fidgety kinderlings here's a reminder to bring back all those memories with the wonderful Joyce Grenfell. Arilx

There has been talk in the media of late of the outrageous prices being asked for some beach huts- one went on the market for a mere asking price of £245,000 in Devon this year [although to be fair it had got some rather impressive modcons] but I could buy my modest 3 bed mud hut for that and I live in West Sussex which is not not renown for being cheap and cheerful! Each to their own..... I have always had a soft spot for beach huts. As a youngster my Nana had one and I can remember going to the beach and spending afternoons there sometimes. I recall it as being tremendous fun but not erm exactly glamorous- in my day it did pretty much what it said on the tin ie a hut on the beach with no pretencions of it being a bijou home. Ours was a simple affair- a place to store buckets and spades, wind breaks and deckchairs aswell as a place to shelter in when getting changed after going winkling and cockling.One of the mysteries of my childhood was how did I manage to secrete half a tonne of

Remember... I saw this on a card at the weekend and it made me smile. Or in the words of dear old Ken Bruce "Life is dangerous- eat pudding first!" So go on indulge your inner imp and reach for the spoon! Arilx

Jolly hot and yes I, plus Mr GBT and chum, have been gallivanting around some local woods- not quite as mad as it may sound as we were being walked by a rather lovely collie labrador cross called Bonnie at the time. Said chum was dogsitting for her parents. The woods were wonderfully cool- not many flowers to be seen at this time of year apart from this Musk Mallow [I think but please do correct me if I am wrong] but H said she'd seen her first ever Angel Orchid there earlier in the season- up until then I'd never even heard of one! Lots of lovely butterflies to be seen- sadly they were not playing ball and simply refused to stop long enough for Mr GBT to take a photo of them. They were just getting on with the business of being butterflies fluttering back and forth in the dappled shade. For that reason I have had to "borrow" a couple of online photos on this occasion instead. Firstly the rather splendid Silverwashed Fritillery And secondly the White

I absolutely adore this set of pins- it brings out my inner Beryl Cook. Sadly, I have never been able to get my own photo of them as I am always on the park and ride bus when I see them. They are to be found gracing the roof balcony on the Duke of York cinema in Brighton. They came to the city in 1991 following the closure of the Not The Moulin Rouge in Oxford. It quite brings a lump to my throat to inform you that my can can dancing days were over before they really started....I have had the honour of owning my very own pair of frou frou undercarriage garments. Indeed mine were so divine that they looked like someone had stitched an enormous white doily onto my rump...however, if I tell you that at the time of wearing my parents affectionately referred to me as the Michelin baby due to my rather chunky little legs looking like tyres [some things don't change- I am still the proud owner of little chunky legs!] you will understand that I am of the 1960s generation that wore th

I suspect that it will come as no surprise to you that I keep a notebook of favourite quotes [and other books of jottings on other topics besides!], but this one that I came across several years ago, remains my favourite and one I return to when things are perhaps a little rocky. I find great peace in the timelessness of the wisdom and the recognition that ,although what troubles us may change, the emotions we experience remain the same from generation to generation. It was written by Dame Julian [canonised in 1980] who was born in 1343. Little is known of her life but she became a mystic and latterly an anchoress living in a cell in the south wall of the St Julian church in Norwich which is now maintained as a shrine to her. "All shall be well, and all shall be well. And all manner of things shall be well." Arilx

I have my chum C to thank for furnishing me with this snippet- she originally hails from Bristol. "Paying on the nail"- a common phrase used in everyday parlance meaning to pay promptly in cash and seal a business deal. The origins of the phrase are disputed, but it existed in Anglo Norman times as "payer sur le ungle", ungle being derived from the Latin"ungula" meaning claw or nail. The phrase is also in use abroad- in America it is known as "cash on the barrel or barrelhead".  As in Liverpool and Limerick, there are four permanent bronze pillars in front of the Bristol Exchange known as nails and certainly transactions were carried out on these. They may well have been modelled on the mobile tables which were taken to medieval trade fairs for the same purpose. The oldest nail in Bristol in probably Elizabethan, one was given by Robert Kitchen [d1594] and the others are dated 1625 and 1631 respectively. Originally they were located in Tolzey

There are many advantages to Mr GBT having a new camera and lens- one being that I can now appreciate the detail of things at a distance, often at height, that I simply can't get close enough to to satisfy my sticky beakedness. The first two grotesques which are on our local parish church are a case in point. He has also been able to take much clearer photos for me than previously of the manic grinning faces that are on the same building. Like greenmen, grotesques and gargoyles is another area which fascinates me- I only wish I could talk to some of the stonemasons who carved them. I know that some of their carvings were designed as warnings again various deviant, immoral behaviours but some are quite unfathomable to the modern mind. Whilst some I think were designed with no more than a visual jokey appeal I strongly suspect some masons had a decidedly maverick streak which showed itself in their work- you may not have wanted to cross swords with particular individuals for fear t

Every once in a while I go utterly mad and finish one of my carefully stored UFOs [UnFinished Objects] of which there might erm just be one or two lurking. I regret that you won't see a plethora of high standard craft projects. Firstly I am terminally slow and have the attention span of a gnat and secondly my crafting ability is what could be politely termed somewhat rustic. My primary job in the craft domain is to admire the work of others. At the moment I am not allowed to start anything new- I have been knitting a rainbow blanket for months and am now on the last strip but until my tatters jacket is finished everything else is out of bounds. Otherwise if I don't stop twonking about the newest member of the morris side is going to get her jacket finished before me! I made these runes a couple of years ago after a jolly good chum showed me how to do them. Having sawed a hazel branch into the appropriate number of discs for the runes I then sanded them before drawing each run

Rainbow Eucalyptus- I think I need say no more.... Arilx

Oh go on please do- help yourself.... at only fifty calories per hundred grammes of strawberries you can afford to go completely and utterly wild! I hear the glad tidings that this year is meant to be a bumper year for strawberries. I am thrilled at this news as we have both cultivated and wild self seeded ones growing in our postage stamp sized garden. I leave the latter for the birds, but we do net the former so that we can start to enjoy the odd bowl full as our crop increases. This is the first year so it really is a few per day, but it's a cracking start and I am most hearty about the state of affairs. That got me thinking- beyond a few culinary ideas about this humble little berry we all take for granted at this time of year I know next to nothing about it. As ever I aim to address that just a little here. The earliest mention of the strawberry appears in ancient Rome in 200BC. The Romans believed they could alleviate the symptoms of melancholy, fainting, all inflamma