The Simple Woman's Daybook - July

I'm going to pretend I've deliberately put this at the end of the month,

instead of at the beginning, like it normally is! 

Outside my window:  Lots of plants are going to seed.  I am a bad gardener.  Actually I am a very good gardener, but I've had to let Mr O find out for himself!  I'll probably take on a bit more next year, but to be honest, with horses, chickens etc to see to, plus housework and the odd bit of cardmaking, I've got enough to do without taking on an ever expanding garden as well!

I am thinking: back to my lesson on Tuesday, which was fabulous.  Nicky hardly said anything, except at the end, when she said, "Try not to fall back into any bad habits."  Praise indeed.  I don't know why I've suddenly sussed it, but I'm extremely pleased.  Only two more lessons before 'The Big Show'.

I am learning: how to use my new Aquamarkers.  They are amazing.  I knew they would be.  There's nothing nicer than spending an hour lost in the wonder of painting. 

I am wearing: navy blue jods.  I have a terrible habit of wiping my hands on my trousers when I'm working.  I also dropped an ink pad, face down, on my favourite jeans yesterday.  Scruffy trousers it is, then!

I am reading: 'Rough Ride' by John Francome.  I love his books.  They are all connected to racing in some way.  I found it in a second hand shop, along with another book by Philippa Gregory, so that'll be next.

I am hoping/praying: for my friend Priscilla who is opening a new chiropractic clinic but having terrible problems with the planning department.  I'm sure it'll come right in the end.

On my mind: I had to go to the doctor's on Wednesday, with a rash all over my back.  It turns out it's a histamine reaction to the prawns I ate on Tuesday night.  I've had this once before, but about ten years ago.  The doctor prescribed  some tablets, which have stopped the itching/stinging.  I felt as if all my nerve endings were on fire.  Better than having shingles I guess.

From the kitchen:  I have eaten blueberries in a trifle last night and some on my breakfast this morning.  I thought they'd be really sour, like redcurrants or something, but they were gorgeous.  I do love blueberry muffins, though, so I suppose I shouldn't really be surprised.  They'll be on the menu regularly from now on...

I am creating: cards using some cross stitch pictures I made last year.  Really pleased with the first one.  Time for a little more cross stitch, I think.

I am hearing:  Radio 2.  Very interesting, as usual.

Noticing that: there are so many flies here at the moment.  I don't think there should be this many.  I've hardly seen any wasps or bees, but swarms of flies coming in the kitchen, and flying around the manege.  Missis has given me a fly mask and I put it on Barnaby yesterday.  Once he realised it kept the flies off his face, he decided he really liked it.  Last time we tried it, a few years ago, he got it off and buried it in the haylage pile, hoping to never see it again!  An indication of how bad the flies are, I think.

Around the house: Blatant peace and quiet as Pongo and Missis are on holiday.  No dogs barking, no children running around.  Bliss.  Feeding the fish is a small price to pay.

One of my favourite things:  Missis brought me back some coffee from Canada that's flavoured with maple syrup.  It has the most gorgeous smell.  I am trying to cut back on coffee, but it's not going to happen with something like that around, is it?

A scripture thought:  'The joy of the Lord is your strength.'  I had this scripture while making a card for a friend recently.  A week later I was at her house and noticed she had it on a little plaque on the wall.  Result!

A few plans for the rest of the week:  Taking Ebony's (granddaughter) birthday card and present to her on Saturday (you can see why I didn't want to have shingles!) and... on Sunday I am going to our old yard to take part in a fancy dress treasure hunt (on horseback, obviously!)  I think I mentioned that I have to dress up as Where's Wally?  We ride round in teams of four and have to work out the clues to find certain objects.  I may put photos on here next week, it depends how incriminating they are (bright blue spandex leggings!!)  I am so looking forward to this, and I'm sure Barnaby won't let me down. 

A picture thought: 

Tigger's house.  He's very happy here...

Have a great weekend, everyone,
Mrs O.

Pet Names

I was wondering today, why all my pets have more than one name.


This is Purdy, also known as Perdita (it's Greek for 'the lost one').



But she is also known as Purdy Bird, Purdy Kitten, Peebles and PB. We had a little black and white kitten just before her, but she died of gastroenteritis. I was devastated. Lisa was working in a nursing home at the time and rang one day in some distress as a cat had abandoned its kitten on her doorstep and the RSPCA were coming to take it away, unless we gave it a home, and would dad have it? As I was the one who would be feeding it and emptying the litter tray, I felt her concern was floating in the wrong direction, but still, I said yes.
So this is what popped it's tiny head out of the box, and I burst into tears. It was love at first sight.




A few days later, she went into 'failure-to-thrive mode' and began to fade away before my very eyes. I couldn't bear to lose another one so soon. I got hold of her by the scruff of the neck, looked her in the eye and shouted, "You will NOT die!" She looked at me with a startled expression and decided to live, there and then. She was nine at Christmas. She is my stalker. She sits on my shoulder and licks my neck (yuk!) She is a stunted cat, and has always been tiny. But she has a big personality, and has held her own with the three farm cats here.


This is Tigger:




aka 'Tigger Angel', 'Tig-Pog', 'Tiggings'. He comes to any of these names. He is full of gingerness. He was a feral cat, caught in a net in a field at Gringley-on-the-Hill. We got him at 14 weeks old, as a birthday present for Abby. On his first night in our house, he leapt out of his cardboard box and ran into the corner, under the coffee table. It was pure instinct, but I picked him up, and put him on my lap. He ran back to his safe place under the coffee table. I picked him up. He ran off. I picked him up, laid down on the sofa, and he crawled up to me and laid down with his back under my chin and went to sleep. He stayed there all night, and has been 'my cat' ever since. He is frightened of everybody else, except Mr O. He comes into the stables each morning and says, "Hello!" in a loud, clear voice. He is nine, too.


And finally, as you know, this is Tessa:


I bought her for me. When she was six months old, she woke up one morning and decided she loved Daddy best, and has never wavered. Her faithfulness is an example to us all.
One day Mr O coined the title 'Tessington Bear' for her, and it stuck. (We live quite near a place called The Tissington Trail now, and are much amused.)
She is now mostly known as Bear, or Mrs Brown, and also comes when you call her, using any of these names. In the old days, we used to do Agility and Flyball, but she prefers the quiet life now. She is very good friends with Tigger and Purdy and is far too well mannered to chase the chickens. She is also nine. It must have been a year for obtaining pets.


Do your animals have multiple aliases?