When people pass by our front window, they are often tempted to look in, well that's what I thought they were doing, but I know think, because of the reflection, they are treating our front window as you would a shop window, to check on their own reflection.
Anyway, that has nothing to do with why I have have put all my teddybears and friends in the window. They are there to bring a smile - and they have. The notices are cards sent to me by our neighbour's little girl (sweet) to say stay safe.
From left to right: Barnsleyted, (he's the biggest bear I have, given to me by my granddaughter's quite a few years ago), Gatapus (the cat) came from Crete, he must wonder where he's landed, next is Luckyted, he's a little grey bear bought from a couple of kids who were having a garden sale to raise a bit of money. Squirrel is just poking out behind Luckyted, and next is Huggleted (he's the nursey bear that I hung on to when I was in hospital a couple of year's ago). Miss Prim with the pink ribbons was given to me by a good friend who knows I just love poodle type doggies. Behind Miss Prim, in the dark, is Dumbleted, the wizardywitch bear who enjoys halloween. Next to Miss Prim is Hector, he belongs to David really (I'm not the only crazy one in this house) and lastly Hazzo, who is a dumpling of a softy dog rescued from a cardboard box destined for the rubbish. Lastley, hanging in the centre of the window are miniature Pooh Bear and friends who were the delight of our grandson, Jack, and I couldn't possibly part with them.
The bears: Barnsleyted, Luckyted, Huggleted and Dumbleted have one other friend, Susan, she is the doll which was given to me when I was about seven years old, and who I have treasured all my life. Susan is a little reclusive and refused to sit in the window.
Like I said, my window display has brought many a smile from passers by, and that is just what I wanted to see, a smile on the faces of otherwise very serious people in the street. On that one trip out of the house for exercise or to walk to the shop, people can look at my bears and smile.
And look who passed by today, you see, bears attract bears. This bear and his partner were handing out sweeties on behalf of Chatterbox. They made me smile, what a lovely gesture, thanks you two.
I'm not really going mad in this lockdown, but I must say a few hidden eccentricities are surfacing. I have taken to walking to the bottom of the garden and back 50 times a day (just over half an hour) which in itself may look very odd to the neighbours, but I can assure you it is well worth the effort to help keep body and soul together, and I have started knitting fingerless gloves with the odds and sods of wool that were left over from past projects.
No matter how much I talk about teddybears, the real world is out there, and there is no escaping the reality of the moment. The news that the Prime Minister was taken into hospital on Sunday really upset me, and yesterday he was put into intensive care. News is that he is stable and not in need of a ventilator, so all we can do is send him good wishes for a speedy recovery, and of course, offer up a prayer to that end. Dear God give Boris Johnson the strength to fight this virus. And God, please help all those who are suffering, and all those who are working to help alleviate the suffering.
The whole world is in a right pickle at the moment, please stay inside your home as much as you can, dear reader, and stay safe.
Love and hugs,
Jane x
The Life and Times of Jane Sharp, Poet, Musician, and Unbelievably Bad Cook. I don't know who programmed my mind, but you sure had a sense of humour!
Tuesday, April 7, 2020
Tuesday, March 31, 2020
HUNKERED DOWN IN BIRDWELL
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| Got to keep fit |
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| David's little greenhouses |
I have also penned a short poem, but in the main I have not wanted to put pen to paper, preferring the more mundane tasks, cooking, cleaning, and of course the knitting needles are out again. General concentration has gone out of the window, but I am trying to keep some semblance of sanity. The magnanimity of this crisis tends to come over me in waves, one day I'm OK, the next I'm on the verge of tears, but generally David and I are coping well with isolation.
As I write the number of deaths in the UK stands at 1,789 that is up 381 from yesterday. Most of these deaths are in London, but there have been a few (3) in Barnsley.
It is hard to look on the bright side, but my neighbours little girl popped a card through the letterbox which she had made to say, stay safe, and today a picture of a rainbow arrived to put in the window. And not only that, my daughter-in-law left strawberries and a small bottle of prosecco on the doorstep. That brought a smile.
So, as ever, my message to you is the same - Stay Safe! I'll be back next week with an update, meanwhile here is my poem, it's serious, but then so is this worldwide crisis.
Covid 19
The weeks go by and people die,
death has become a game of tag,
don’t let it touch you; dodge its hand,
outrun its pace, do what you can;
don’t let death be the catcher-man:
the catcher-man, the catcher-man,
he’s out to get you if he can.
Refuse to play death’s ugly game,
retire, retreat, re-map and plan,
don’t let death have the upper hand,
turn on the foe, make fast your stand;
don’t let death be the catcher-man:
the catcher-man, the catcher-man,
he’s out to get you if he can.
Outstep death’s shadow; slip its grip,
be clever, use your well honed wit,
don’t let death decimate our land,
humanity must make a stand;
don’t let death be the catcher-man:
the catcher-man, the catcher-man,
he’s out to get you if he can.
Be full of hope, the world is strong,
each person must now play a part,
don’t let death make undue demands,
heed every government command,
stay safe! Let's beat the catcher-man.
Tuesday, March 24, 2020
AUNT MARTHA GOES LIVE!
It's been a strange week for everyone. As you can see from the above video, I indulged myself in a little entertainment to while away an hour or so. Aunt Martha is definitely out of the closet. And to cap it all she got an airing on BBC Radio Sheffield's Upload programme last Thursday night in the form of Aunt Martha's Lenten Quest.
Aunt Martha’s Lenten Quest
Aunt Martha listened to Reverend Jon,
His sermon was all about Lent,
How you should give up something or other,
She thought she knew just what he meant.
She decided a just deprivation,
Would be bread, cakes, biscuits and scones,
And the money sh’d save in the process,
She’d donate towards the church funds.
That Sunday Aunt Martha invited us
Round - Aunt Polly, my mum and me -
To discuss what sacrifice we could make.
And of course, stay for Sunday tea.
I liked having tea at Aunt Martha’s house,
She always put on a fare spread,
So imagine the face I had on me,
To be given boiled ham but no bread!
I’d have brought you a loaf, said Aunt Polly,
If you’d let me know you were short,
‘I’m not short,’ said Aunt Martha, ‘abstaining,’
‘cos we’ve got a church to support.
She rattled a tin and put it beside
The ham, ‘there, that’s a start,’ she said,
That’s money I would’ve spent on a loaf,
Now it’s going to t’ church instead.
The next forty days proved disastrous,
As we gave up all we liked best,
Even mum got a little bit thinner,
In aide of Aunt Martha’s quest.
Aunt Polly saw Uncle Stanley in town,
He was outside Jo’s Caf. in Brook street,
‘Our Martha’s carrying this thing too far,
Half rations, it’s not flippin’ reet.
A man could starve wi’out biscuits and cakes,
She’s taken all t’ joy out o’ living,
All she does is rattle her blessed tin,
She insists, ‘All the joy’s in the givin’.’
‘There’s nowt in me packing but fruit,’ he moaned,
‘My tum’s getting thinner and thinner,
I’d love some roast beef and Yorkshire pud.,
I’m off into Jo’s for my dinner.’
After a week he was moping about,
He could hardly keep up his head,
‘Martha, I’m feeling reet hungry,’ he begged,
‘Please, gi’ us a slice o’ bread.’
Aunt Martha was shocked, but quite resolute,
Uncle Stanley’s request was ignored,
‘No,’ she said firmly, ‘it’s LENT, do wi’out,
And put all your faith in the Lord.’
The days went by, Uncle Stanley fell ill,
He took to his bed, moribund,
‘Tha ’s purged me soul lass, I’m off to my grave,
Here’s two and six for the fund.’
Well of course, Uncle Stanley didn’t die,
Easter Sunday brought out the best;
Aunt Martha was over the moon with joy
At her successful Lenten quest:
She took the money to Mr McGoo,
Who entered it into accruals,
Uncle Stanley had suffered for twenty-two pounds,
It went for repairs and renewals.
I suppose it's a silly question to ask what you have given up for Lent, as the population of Britain is in the process of giving up so much to try to combat this horrendous virus. It makes the little things seem pathetically insignificant, as we are all concentrating so hard on our survival. I'm not going to say anything else about this because I'm sure your up to your overgrown fringe with the gory details of Covid 19.
Let's be positive! I am getting creative in the kitchen to help eke out the food, and David has turned into a carpenter, and has built a little greenhouse out of some old windows. Life at home is quite enjoyable really. No rushing about to catch buses, no worrying we might be having visitors and the living room hasn't been polished for a week, no work, it's like being on holiday - well not quite.
As for exercise, we are sorted - the exercise bike is out of the shed.
And we've got our own coffee shop, well, maybe not always coffee.
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| No Stress! |
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| I likes my cider! |
So, week one of isolation was not too bad for us, and I hope it wasn't too bad for you either. Keep safe dear reader, wherever you are. The next few weeks are not going to be easy for anyone, we are all in this together, let's send this virus packing. Stay at home, and if you have to go out stay at least 2 meters (6ft) away from the next person. Here's a virtual hug, and if you are a key worker, here's an extra special hug and a big thank you for being on the front line.
I'll be back next week, God willing.
Lots of love to all,
Jane x
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