Remembrance, trees and edits

Lord H and I were organised enough to attend the Remembrance Service at St Mary's today. I took two extra poppies in case there was a disaster, but the original two held firm and all was well. I shall have to add them to the growing poppy mountain in the drawer after tonight. God but I'm anal. Anyway, the service was very good, and the sermon particularly moving. Jenny (the vicar - or one of them) mentioned one of the verses of the old hymn, "Oh Valiant Hearts", and made the point that, after the crucifixion, God linked himself to all suffering of all people, for all time. Certainly an interesting point - one I've heard before, but well worth the retelling. I also enjoyed the fact that after the service, we walked outside to the War Memorial in Shackleford and had the actual Remembrance Service there. Sometimes it's good for the traffic to be held up for a while, I think. Another good thing - which I haven't experienced before - was the fact that they handed out small crosses with the names on of all the people from Shackleford who'd died in the two world wars and, as each name was read out, the person holding the particular named cross walked up and planted it in the soil near the memorial. Highly appropriate indeed.

The only negative thing about the occasion was the fact that, after it was over, I heard the middle-aged tosser next to me say to the young man playing the bugle that it didn't sound as good as if it had been a real military bugle. I was all for turning round and stuffing the said instrument up the complainer's bottom, but Lord H thought that might not be wise with the traffic police around. But really! I thought the bugler was fab and did an ace job! Some people should just keep their ruddy mouths shut!

After church, we wandered around Winkworth Arboretum for a while, admiring the trees and the new lake walkway. All very nice indeed. The colours weren't, I suspect, quite as stunning as before this week's bad weather, but still well worth the viewing. We managed also to catch the glorious sight of a family of long-tailed tits flitting from tree to tree, as well as our first white-fronted goose. Hurrah! And bizzarely, we spotted a flowering daffodil and a foxglove. Has global warming gone mad?

At home, I have washed the car (Goodness me! I think I might hire that ace trumpeter from today to play me a triumphant march!) for the first time in way too long to remember, and made a sort-of pear crumble for lunch. Sort-of, in the sense that we couldn't find any crumble topping (whaddya mean: make your own?? Are you mad?!?) at the shop yesterday, so I had to buy pudding & suet mix instead. And sort-of in the sense that the pears we had were all rotten, so I had to use tinned pears and some eating apples in their place. Ah well. I was trying so hard for Wife Points too. Foiled again, Carruthers ... Still, nobly and with utter sacrifice, Lord H has eaten the ungodly mix that resulted and is still smiling. Even though I'm not sure that my failsafe cookery salvation method of drowning it with custard entirely worked ...

Meanwhile, back at the Goldenford edit, I am now on Chapter 26 and roaring with all cylinders towards the end. Still sobbing like a baby at times, and also sighing with happiness at the budding romance, hurrah - Jackie as ever knows how to tug at the heart. Ah, if only I had one, eh ...

Tonight, I will be glued to the "Strictly Come Dancing" results. Surely it's time for Kate to go? Or empty-headed Kelly. Who surely must be prime contender in the Woman with the Most Irritating Laugh contest. Or the Woman with No Brain contest. She's hot to trot in either, really. And, if we get rid of Kelly (even though her dance was fab), it would save all that effort of turning the sound down whenever she comes on the screen. Ah, I wish, I wish.

Oh, and here's a poem:

Golfer’s autumn pause

I am flummoxed by leaves,
knee-deep in mulch,
searching for that mythical
golf-ball – small, white, lost –
which never lands
precisely where I want it.

Birds flutter, people call out
and somewhere in the distance
a dog yelps.

The wind breathes deep
and all the world moves on.

Only I am still.


And not forgetting this week's haiku, inspired by yesterday's shopping trip (the one with no crumble topping):

Sliced ham and roses
adorn your shopping trolley:
one hell of a soup.


Today's nice things:

1. Remembrance Service
2. Winkworth
3. Writing poetry.

Anne Brooke
Anne's website