11/11/10

Laura rounded us up today at The Oaks Cafe, where I work as a cook on a Thursday...have done for ten years now. Thursday is always a very busy day. We have french classes, learning difficulty clients and their carers, regular punters and folk from the Leonard Cheshire homes across the courtyard. We are a fiesty group of women cooking up a storm of delish food!
But today was remembrance day. The local street bobbies came in for their breakfast and at one minute to eleven, Laura [the youngest among us] pointed at the clock and we all stood up and were silent. Well almost. One lovely client kept repeating that she was being quiet and we didn't mind as we call this group, "the happy people".

Oh, and the local bowlers come on a Thursday after cafe service is finished.

Maddy a.k.a. Wonderwoman...I'm excited about her pink day in May making money for a  breast cancer charity. 

Maddy in cook gear with Linda, Manageress par excellence. 

Barn Raising

Many years ago we were fortunate enough to be able to purchase a large hut, second hand. It had been used as the lounge for  single mums and their children but that need was no longer there . So we paid £50, hauled it across town, and invited all our friends to a "Barn Raising".
Alan  prepared the foundations and built up a wall of two bricks high to support the wooden structure.
I prepared a lot of food and cake goodies to keep the energies going!
Over the years the hut..now more grandly called "The Summer House".. has been filled with discarded chairs and cushions and charity shop crotcheted blankets. It was a favourite den for our two children growing up and now is the same for the grand children when they gather here.
Dinners were served in it for friends from far and near.
Parties held for special birthday and once it was decorated to look like Tolstoy's Dacha, in honour of our literary friends from Italy.

We keep a bag of Indian fabrics in it and when all five get together out  comes the bag and the contents are scattered  on the grass and theatre begins!

So for my Christmas Present this year, Alan informed me that he was going to renovate the building, and add a ceiling  under the roof which will keep it warmer and we may use it in the winter months as well as summer.
There's no electricity, no phone, no water. just peace and quiet.
I wouldn't like it to become too clean and tidy. I might feel obliged to do something while sitting there! But for my present to him, I shall renew the little curtains and repaint the furniture a bit.
I watched the programme on Silence  [BBC] this weekend . The summer House is where I find that in our busy lives.
It's so well made I suppose it will last another 30 years and I may not be there to see that. But maybe the children will.

A Poem for Thursday.

Considering the State of Affairs in November

In winter trees appear undressed.

I ask, "Can this be for the best?"

I fear if I should be so bold,

I soon would catch a nasty cold.

Yet trees seem happy with the plan.

So - each his own - both tree and man.

The Lost Sheep

Alan has done a series based on the bible story of the one lost sheep and the ninety nine who were sensible.

Alan is no preacher, just an artist with a quirky sense of humour. And this can be a really funny story!!
Some of the series have had a shepherd who takes his mobile phone with him...but forgets to turn it on, so there is a  little screaming lamb with a mobile shouting up from the bottom of the ravine.

This little fellow has scratched his way all the way down the sheer face of the cliff.

Sometimes the shepherd carries binoculars just to get a better look.

When he sees the thing, he hauls it up on his crook by the neck....oh, oh!

All's well that ends well...don't do it again!!

A Poem for Thursday.

At twentyone I left the land
and travelled on the Irish Sea.
I reached a southern port
And taught the children
on the chalky hills.
They thought I was a foreigner

French perhaps.


At twentysix I travelled north
And settled in a smokey town.
Where words were old and beer
was drunk on Friday nights
in crowded bars.
They thought I was a foreigner.

Scottish perhaps.


In troubled times I went back west
To where the planted people lived.
And dodged the bombs and
feared the fires where city folk
still walked and worked.
I felt I was a foreigner.


English perhaps.



Now 40 years have come and gone
And wars are fought and lives are lost.
And fights are won or
so they say though where
or when I do not know.
And none of us are foreigners


Human perhaps.

[The art work is based on the gaelic meaning of Donegal...."The stronghold of the foreigners...the Vikings". and all items were collected on Irish beaches.]

Autumn Colours at The Potters House Penketh

We may have a bonfire this evening if the rain stays off.
Even if we don't, this is the last week of these beautiful colours in the garden. Why am I always caught unawares by the glory of the late autumn?  I think,"oh no winter comes!", and then up comes this display, and I'm loving the time of year again. So here it is for another few days.

Lots of leaves, but more to come.

Berries and fruit galore.

The orchard has given up it's goodies.

No more swinging in the hammock, the family birch grove...one for each of the eleven members...settles down for a quiet winter.

Thankyou Gardener.

Alan's Art ..... The Drop of Water.

This ceramic piece was made for a show at The Brighton Festival a couple of years ago.
Each year Annelies Clarke, whose home we exhibit in, has a theme  for the artists in her show to follow.
That year it was the earth's reserves and how we use or abuse them.
This piece is symbolic of one drop of water and the earth's need of it to sustain life.

More art from The Potters House can be seen on Flickr.