Rh I love to eat rhubarb now, but when I was little I didn’t, especially stewed into a gluey pink mess and served for breakfast. Disguised as pie, however, with strawberries added and mother’s melt-in–your mouth pie crust, it was not the same vegetable at all. It seemed miraculous to me that such a sour… Continue reading More Rhubarb
Rhubarb
Well, that’s it. Symptoms of advancing years popping up, or maybe creakily- becoming- vertical, with each passing day. I walk down to Collins’, the green-grocer in the square to – What else? buy veggies and fruit. This walk in itself is a Good Thing, as it not only conserves gas, but helps keep my… Continue reading Rhubarb
Rugby
The Six Nations Rugby matches have begun, an annual competition between Ireland, Wales, England, Scotland, France, and Italy. For my US friends, Rugby is something like American football except that: You can’t pass the ball forward, you can only run forward with it; the scrimmage is called the scrummage, no protective pads, and they never stop except for an injury or penalty, which means they don’t get to rest much.
I like watching it, but found myself rooting for Wales, which my English husband wasn’t too happy about, but then, I am an inveterate cheerer for the underdog, as well as being unable to stop playing devil’s advocate. England won, but only after a very tense game.
Whichever team wins the most points in the whole series wins, so of course even if a team loses one game, they can still win. Today, Ireland beat Italy (poor old underdog), and the Irish are playing the French in Paris.
It means several days of continuous rugby in our house; in France we used to have rugby parties, like people do on Superbowl Sunday, and everyone seemed to root for a different team. No fisticuffs though, even between the Brits and the French.
(Sandy, can’t help thinking of you. You would love it. )
DML_Yuba_Rocks_Water-9.jpg | David Lovere
DML_Yuba_Rocks_Water-9.jpg | David Lovere. Exquisite, original photos by David —
We are into a cold snap, 2010, But —-
Reprinted from The Times: Weather The winter of ’47: I’ve borrowed a balaclava helmet from Fred to wear in bed! This winter seems bad but the freeze of 1947, the worst in living memory, tested the resolve of war-weary Britons to the limit, The big freeze: Derbyshire bus stuck in a snow drift Photo: Hulton-Deutsch Collection… Continue reading We are into a cold snap, 2010, But —-
The Anchoress of Shere, Christine Carpenter
We had our very own Anchoress back in the 14th century. She lived in Ash and Willow cottages down by the Tillingbourne , the river which runs through the village, and her father was a carpenter by the name of William. Her name was Christine; the cottages are still there, lived in by generations of… Continue reading The Anchoress of Shere, Christine Carpenter
The Bridge over Upper Street –
The village of Shere is several hundred years old. The church dates from the 11th century and several houses date from Tudor times. Ours is new-ish, built in 1635 or so, newer than the first settlements in the New World. One family has ruled over Shere for about 500 years; a Bray was granted the… Continue reading The Bridge over Upper Street –
The Frost is on the Pumpkin —
Actually, it isn’t. Not yet, anyway. After a relatively balmy September and early October, the temperatures have plummeted from daytime low 70’s F to low 60’s, and night times approach, but don’t attain, freezing. The days are “drawing in”. Long, 18 hour summer days have gradually decreased to 10, and by Christmas it will be… Continue reading The Frost is on the Pumpkin —
Battle of Britain
It is the 70th anniversary of Britain’s entry into war against Germany, and the battle of Britain took place. In honor of the brave young pilots who fought so valiantly and brilliantly, a Hurricane and a Spitfire landed at one of the airports used as an airfield back then. It isn’t too far from us;… Continue reading Battle of Britain
Tempus Fugit – or, is it breakfast time again?
The days seem very short now that I am in my 8th decade. (Can that possibly be true?) Even though it is August, with the autumn equinox yet to come, I keep feeling that I am getting nowhere fast, days whizzing by before I can grasp them, slipping through my fingers like sand. Bernadino and… Continue reading Tempus Fugit – or, is it breakfast time again?