IT'S A SMALL WORLD AFTER ALL

I was visiting a friend's website today.  She is a middleman (woman) for people selling homeschooling supplies and curriculum.  I found ABeka Fifth Grade Language and ordered it.  Come to find out, the seller is my husband's boss in Florida!  Our world just keeps getting smaller and smaller.

Aunt Sally and The Rising Price of Stamps

I recently came across some photographs of my Aunt Sally.Here she is, in my old kitchen.


Each year the village of Tetney would hold a Scarecrow Festival. It attracted huge crowds of people and was a great fund-raising event which brought together the various factions of the village. As ever, there were a few who wouldn't join in, but we didn't miss them.

There would be a Flower Festival at the church, Cream Teas in the Village Hall, events on the Village Green and the Playing Field, Horse Rides, Open Gardens, Tug Of War, Tombolas, Raffles, Craft Stalls, etc, etc.

As with most villages there were the Village Hall people, the Mother's Union, the Church people, the Women's Institute, and somewhere in the middle were the village people. We all worked together,

but there were undercurrents...Midsummer Murder scenarios were never far away!

The idea was for every household to make a scarecrow or two and display them in their gardens. Then the public would walk around and view them before being asked to vote on the 'Best in Show' ... and to spend their money on the many other attractions we had provided to empty their pockets, purses and wallets.

We had decided to do good old Aunt Sally and Worzel Gummidge. I think we were rather more successful with our attempt at Aunt Sally than with poor Worzel. This is how they should have looked...

This is how Aunt Sally and Worzel appeared in the TV programme

...but this is how poor Worzel ended up

..unfortunately I don't have a photograph of Aunt Sally in all her finery. The scarecrows were left out for the rest of the week and gradually the village returned to normal. Coffers had been filled, squabbles and resentments would fester ready for the next fundraiser.
I also came across a huge pile of old letters. I'll do a post about the letters another time, but it is the price on the stamps which fascinated me today, especially given the enormous price rise which is about to hit us.These letters date from the late 1960's when the cost of sending a letter was 4d.That is four old pence, as it was pre-decimalisation!
The cost of a first class stamp is set to rise to 60p - that is 12 shillings, pre decimalisation - 144 old pence.I wish I could get out of the habit of converting back to £ s d!

Return to Burringbar Tunnel

The reasons why we do things aren't always clear. A couple of weeks ago I decided to join Martin and his friend Haggis on a return to Burringbar Tunnel. I had only just recovered from the scrapes from the last time, and shaken off a persistent cold, but with the Rajneeshee off the road for the weekend anyway, I couldn't really think of anything better to do. We all set off at the slightly later time of 6.30am, but made reasonable time down through Urliup, Murwillumbah and Stokers Siding, despite Martin getting an early flat tyre.


We were soon riding along the old railway line again. This time I wasn't as nervous as previously, although I suspect that's because I still had some of the effects of the cold and was probably too tired to get nervous. Either way, we made much better time on this stretch to the tunnel than previously. It was actually quite a warm day by this stage, and I was relieved to get into the tunnel itself and get a temporary reprieve from the heat that was blazing down from above. In that respect, it reminded me of some of the tunnels I rode through in Japan a couple of years back. This one, however, had glowworms, clinging to the roof, looking almost like stars above our heads.

Someone had hacked a narrow path through the scrub that covered the line south of the tunnel. I could almost actually see where I was going, and Haggis thoughtfully made the decision to charge ahead of everyone else, and pick up all the scrapes from the lantana. After this, it was time for a quick lunch, then the scenic ride home through the Mooball National Park, and the final stretch over Tomewin. This part of the ride is very pretty, largely because this is an area of virtually virgin bushland, with different types of forest all along the length of the dirt road. After the bumps of the railway track, a dirt road was a relatively pleasant diversion.

That only left the final climb of Tomewin. We were all doing it tough in the heat, and I don't think any of us got up there in super quick time -- I certainly didn't. It was, however, much cooler and greener at the top. It just left us with a simple ride home after the descent, to ponder why we had done it all again -- and whether we'd be silly enough for No. 3.

Last Leg

We lost our last White Leghorn yesterday. At just over three years old, she was our longest-lived chicken, and the last hen from the original flock. She never came back to roost at night, and was presumably a meal for a predator with babies to feed.
I looked up every synonym for sad, but couldn't find a word to explain the feeling I had when I opened an egg carton and saw her white eggs still in there.

Catbox stuffing, in better days.

Walking to Heel...

The last ten days or so have been spent very quietly. I have much to learn about Toby Too and he has a great deal to learn about what I expect of him. So we have walked.

At first he was spooked by some of the more unusual sights,like this giant boot lives in the Enchanted Forest,opposite the old watermill.
We have trudged many miles along the pathwaysand through farmland and beautiful countryside.The weather has been wonderful.Toby has sniffed and explored to his heart's content -

on an extendable lead.

He has seen sheep, horses, cattle,pheasants, rabbits, dogs and cats.

At some point in his short past someone has taught him to sit, to shake pawsand also to sit and wait for his lead to be put on him.
He has manners.
It is just that he forgets everythingwhen he gets excited.

He gets excited when he sees, rabbits, cats, dogs,

sheep, cattle, pheasants...

Luckily, I know a woman who can help me.She is a dog trainer, of 20 years experience, and she lives just down the road.

As soon as it can be organised this handsome dog and I will be taking lessons.I have no doubt that I have more to learn than the dog,so it could take some time.

As you can see, Harry and Toby-Too work well together.

Icy Canopy

Ice-encrusted trees bend over and touch the ground, unable to bear the weight of ice that has accumulated from the freezing spray of Lake Superior. Taken at Tettegouche State Park near Silver Bay, MN.