From Birdwell to Vrahassi - Adventure 2016

From Birdwell to Vrahassi - 'The Mission' to bring back my lovely Yamaha Piano.

The account of our trip to Crete, is best shown in photographs. We certainly covered some miles, but our old car was a superhero. We named her Matilda, and she performed regally. The main object of our trip, was to retrieve personal possessions from our house in Crete, load them into Matilda, and transport them safely back to the Birdwell. We also wanted to make sure the house was still saleable, i.e. waterproof, and sound, and, of course, we had to pay our taxes.  And so it was, on a sunny morning in October, we set off on our long journey south.

Our itinerary was to travel south to Dover, take the ferry to Calais, travel through France down to Reims, then on to Lyon, through the Frejus Tunnel to Italy, on through Italy toward Bologna and finally Ancona. From Ancona take the Minoan Lines ferry to Patras (mainland Greece) drive to Athens, and take the ferry from Piraeus to Crete. It all went like a dream. There was no sight seeing, no stopping for meals (we had a supply of food in the car) and we stayed in budget hotels on the way.

To cut a very long story short - the mission was a complete success, we returned home with a carload of stuff, including two big cans of olive oil, and the piano.

About to leave Birdwell Oct 21 2016

Goodbye England, France here we come

On the road through France, and Italy, motorway all the way

Travelling East - Ancona to Patras

The last leg - Piraeus (Athens) to Crete

And on the seventh day we came to rest in Vrahassi

And rest we did, in the house that David built

 We found the house just as we left it, except for a year's accumulation of dust. That was very soon swept away. We cleaned the place through and tried to have a little holiday. Once we had got all the official business out of the way we enjoyed a few walks in the olive groves. Vrahassi had not changed one bit.

Vrahassi had not changed one bit

 The Frejus Tunnel was not as scary as I remembered it from our last trip 15 years ago. It was very expensive to go through, however, about £40

Through the Frejus Tunnel from Italy to France

 The journey back was not quite as enjoyable as the journey there, as I was taken quite ill, by the time I got home I had lost almost a stone in weight, and was not myself at all. But that is all in the past, and now I am feeling much better. So, it is onwards and upwards.

A pit stop in the French Alps

And 'hey presto' we are back in Birdwell

So, there you have it, our adventure 2016. I'm not in a hurry to repeat the journey, but give me a few months and we might be off again. Both our children gave me a lecture on not taking on such a long trip in the future, but I can't see me sitting in the house with my knitting for too long. Once this jumper is finished we might just be dreaming up a 2017 adventure.

And now to write a bit of poetry, I haven't done that for weeks, but methinks the muse has settled upon me. Watch this space.

Bye for now dear reader, enjoy your Christmas shopping, the bright lights are dazzling in Barnsley!

Jane x

Sharp Art

I might have been quiet over the past weeks, but I have not been idle. I've taken to painting, and set up a studio in my kitchen. It has good south facing light, and a good work surface. The table is covered in paints, brushes, jam jars, masking tape, pens, pencils, PVA, Polyfiller and the odd tube of glitter. And tomorrow is my first public airing of some of my work. I am going to the Cock Inn Music cum Beer Festival, Birdwell, where I have a stall for the day.

David has made me a stand to hang a few painting on, and we are hoping for a jolly day. Please let the rain pass over during the night!

Here is a taster of my work, It's a bit crazy, but it's mine.

 Top left is my portrait of Ian McMillan (Poet),  the pink squiggly one is called 'Ejaculation', I really enjoyed making the collage one using an old music score and one of my poems, and of course the little pug picture.

Pugsie Alone!

 He is so cute!

And this is my interpretation of an olive grove.












So, fingers crossed for a lovely fine afternoon and plenty of laughs. Birdwell is going to be buzzing with tweets I'm sure, especially when people see the painting of Barnsley FC supporter's crowd, complete with ferret. I'm really quite excited. I will let you know how things go, of course.

Have a wonderful Bank Holiday, wherever you may be, and whatever you may be doing. Talk again soon.

Love Jane xx

Act Your Age - Not Likely!

So, it is over, weeks and weeks of learning words, songs, dance steps. Weeks and weeks of not acting my age, just for the sheer hell of it. I finally got my act together for the last night of a 3 night run at the Academy Theatre, last night. Yes, it was hard work, but I enjoyed every minute. Would I do it again? Not this side of Christmas. Here are a few pictures:

 Grumpy old women. Act Your Age the Musical.

And Glamour 

There is always a nurse!

And football supporters

Not acting our age!

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Sharing a changing room

And Cheeky Men too!
Whatever will I do next? I've got a list of things so I'm not going to be bored. Watch this space.

It is Fathers' Day today, so to celebrate, here is a poem I have written about my Daddy. We are a close family and I loved my Daddy so much. He worked on the railway.

Daddy

I don’t like your whiskers, rough on my cheek,

or the smell of your breath, that sometimes reeks

of smoke, or beer, or, on occasion kippers,

and, I hate the stink of your old brown slippers.

I loathe the stench of your coat even more,

it reminds me of festering garden manure,

it whiffs of paraffin, old painting rags,

that diesel-oil waft of your stop-go flags.

and greasy brill cream in your hair, what’s that?

A sticky slick on the rim of your hat:

flat streaky strands on a shiny smooth dome,

stains on the pillow, globules in your comb.

Your hands look like you’ve been digging holes

In the garden, fingers dirty as moles.

But when your shift is over, and you’re back

like Daddy-bear black with grime from the track,

and you slip your work-bag onto the floor,

hang your coat on the hook behind the door,

sit at the table, rummage in your pocket,

bring out a bar of Cadbury’s milk chocolate,

something changes, your  fragrance turns sweet,

there are roses, red roses at your feet,

and I smile, you’re no longer a baddy,

all I can smell is my lovely Daddy.

And now I am going to make something hot for tea, the weather is quite cold today, and I need internal warmth.

I will leave this blog with just one more comment. The terrible news of the murder of Jo Cox has really shocked me. A young mother of two, a brilliant politician, and a caring person. The world has lost a very bright spark. RIP Jo Cox.

Talk soon,

Love to all,

Jane x