Weekly Photo Challenge : Graceful.

memories-of-summer-2016

To me this is graceful.

The delicate seed head … you can almost feel the softness of it and the gritty seeds contained within. A breeze will separate the seeds and they will float off … to create another brilliant, yellow dandelion flower.

No – your eyes haven’t gone funny on you. This is one of my photographs that I’ve digitally enhanced. I felt it emphasized the shape and grace of the flower – turned to seed. I hope that’s allowed!

 

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/photo-challenges/

Thanks for dropping by.

Dorne x

A right load of old garbage.

wheelie-bin-saga-2Back in the day, here in the UK and I’m guessing quite probably in a quite a few other parts of the world, households had a simple metal dustbin. We even made up songs about it here in good old Blighty.

My old man’s a dustman he wears a dustman’s hat. He wears cor blimey trousers and he lives in a council flat.”

 

Sang Lonnie Donegan in 1960.

And here’s the proof.

Once upon a time the dustman came to collect your one metal dustbin, which was discretely tucked away in a corner of your garden. He would leave the lid and haul the bin, on his shoulder to the waiting wagon. Then, he would return the empty bin, replace the lid and if you were super lucky… close the gate after himself. And the bins were emptied every week – not fortnightly.

The downside of it was – there were massive landfill sites, scarring the landscape and gulls the size of a small dog feasting on the festering mess.  We were rapidly running out of places to dump our garbage and something had to be done.

These days we have a bin for household waste, recycled waste and garden waste.

wheelie-bin-saga

They come in lovely bright colours, such as blue, green and black. Some of us have small courtyard gardens and have opted to use garden refuse sacks, which have to be bought  and a licence obtained in order for the bin men to stop and lob the sacks  into the back of their huge wagons.

The remaining two bins in garish colours and proudly displaying the name of our local borough council – lest we forget who the magnificent things belong to, take up about a sixth of our yard. They blend in perfectly and in summer positively hum – but not with the sound of insects.

At this point, after I’ve emptied an entire bottle of concentrated disinfectant into it and it still smells like a mini landfill – because it has been sitting there festering in a heat wave for two weeks, I dump it the passage at the back of our cottages.

The day before bin day we drag the monsters around to the front of the house. I know there are some folk out there who have about a mile to walk from their house to the bottom of the lane, with their wheelie bin… because these super-duper vans can’t come up the lanes these days. We are asked to put the bins out for 6am on the collection day. I have yet to see a van out at that time – but, we live with the fear of being left with the festering mess for another two weeks – that would give us a month’s worth of garbage – very nasty garbage to contend with.

It’s easy to see when the bin men have been… various wheelie bins are scattered all over the pavement. If you’re pushing a pushchair, or driving a scooter enormous fun can be had tackling the obstacle course. Sometimes you actually have to move the bins out-of-the-way.

In order to cut down on the waste material that can now be sent for recycling, packages arrive in huge cardboard boxes filled with about a tree’s worth of brown paper. The pen that you ordered is in perfect condition and the box and paper fill your recycling bin.

I’ve had a run – in with our local council recently over them failing to empty our recycling bin. It was happening all too frequently. We live on the main road that runs through the heart of our village. On bin day the road is a sea of bin wagons and yet on several occasions recently not one of them stopped to empty our bins.

Just what kind of service were we paying for and surely common sense should have told them to stop and sort out the line of seven eagerly waiting to be emptied bins? Er… no.

Anyhow, after a series of rather silly emails that they sent to me and which annoyed the hell out of me, the matter has now been happily rectified.

At my most mad moment I took to Twitter… a la Donald Trump style.

Just who the hell do I think I’m talking to? I asked myself. I’m not one of the most powerful people in the world.

But, it felt so good. I’ll give Trump that.

However my series of garbled and somewhat confusing messages will be out there forever! Not so good.

I growled at the woman in the refuse department when she couldn’t and wouldn’t answer my questions.

” If you don’t stop shouting at me I will end this call.” She told me.

Honey, if you think that is shouting you need to develop thicker skin. I didn’t swear at you, insult you, or use my extensive sarcasm on you. I had to raise my voice because you wouldn’t let me get a word in edgeways!

All is now well in the garbage garden and we’ve kissed and made up. I have the manager of the department on speed dial and I’ve emailed him to ask him to send my apologies to the woman who was on the end of my frustration.

I was going to ring her and then I thought she might just have a nervous breakdown. Best not.

My beautiful garbage bins are now back in the garden and look as wonderful as ever. And, as I’ve taken delivery of a packet of TENS Machines pads this morning… the packaging for it has now filled the recycling bin. Roll on the next fortnight!

How about you?

Do your bins get emptied and do the bins fill your garden? Do they hum to you in summer? It would be interesting to know how other parts of the world tackle their garbage.

I know – I need to get out more.

Thanks for dropping by.

Dorne x

 

 

 

 

Walking upright is so underrated: confessions of a temporary Quasimodo.

walking-post-2Well hallelujah! I can walk upright again and without the aid of my trusty walking stick. Walking upright is so very underrated.

Sunday saw me resembling some weird combination of Quasimodo crossed with a constipated duck. What does a constipated duck look like? Me – yesterday. I had that slow and slightly wobbly walk that they have. Hunched over and unable to straighten to my full 5ft 7 ins I tried to adopt a graceful and dignified walk.

Hubby told me : ” You look fine… you’re hardly bent over at all. “ But, I was using every bit of my strength and resolve to stay as upright as possible. My muscles at the base of my spine and in my pelvis burned, and screamed for me to sit down. They felt like rubber bands that would snap at any moment.

Back inside, I relented and Quasi was back BIG TIME!

” You stand more upright when you’re outside, you need to go outside again.” said my terribly, sympathetic husband.

Oh, you’re so funny!

Thinking about it, he probably won’t have that much sympathy. He has Parkinson’s disease and for the last twenty years since he was diagnosed,  he has gradually become more and more bent over. The difference is… he doesn’t get any relief from it. He doesn’t suddenly straighten up, like me today. He has it day in and day out… and he doesn’t moan about it – or blog about it!

Yesterday has made me appreciate just how great it is to walk tall. True, I am still sore and tender, but I am truly grateful for being able to unfurl to my true height.

I don’t know what caused my temporary back problems. It could be linked to one of many things at present.

I have given up gluten to try to help my daily headaches/migraines. I honestly can’t remember the last time I didn’t have a headache.

Some folk who give up gluten experience the withdrawal symptoms and I’m one of those. Well, what a surprise?

I’ll bore you with the ins and outs of that in a future post… when I can stay awake long enough.

walking-post-1

Right now, I’m just here to celebrate being able to walk upright again… for now.

Not a bad way to start a virgin week I reckon.

Thanks for dropping by and have yourself a great start to the new week.

Dorne (Quasi)  x

On the wild side: treecreepers.

On a recent  dog walk the Daisy dog daisy-soft-2and I wandered by our local river, the Derwent.

The moist air made the strands of my hair peeping out from my hat damp and the sky was a wash of different shades of grey. The Daisy dog read her morning, doggy newspaper and I was mesmerised by the dark brown water slowly flowing south.

It was only when it started to hop up, from the base of the weeping willow tree trunk, that I spotted it.

A first for me… a treecreeper!

Photo credit: bidddievan.tumblr.com
Photo credit: bidddievan.tumblr.com

This small bird, about 12 centimetres in length was perfectly camouflaged against the rough, brown trunk of the tree and viewed from the side… albeit briefly – it had a  pure, white breast.

I wish I could say that I managed to get a photograph of it, but I didn’t. I had a greyhound on a lead to contend with… remember. How many times do you line up your shot and just as you are about to get a half-decent image – the pooch moves and there goes your chance? Then the animal/bird moves and you’re left with nothing but memories … and a dog that is clearly bored and wants to get on with the walk.

Take it from me – it was great to watch and I will never forget that memory.

It carefully creeped up and  around the tree, picking off insects with its slightly curved beak. Its tail acted as a support.

But, I can’t come on here and sing the praises of this rather clever bird and not let you see for yourself. So, if you want to see what some folk call a tree mouse – because of the way it cleverly scales tree trunks – have a look at this clip. Just click on the links.

Here Bill Oddie ( a great British Institution) and Kate Humble watch and discuss the huddling and cuddling treecreepers.

As for me – I’ve got a permanent stiff neck now, as I walk around looking up trees hoping for another sighting of a treecreeper… my new favourite bird.

Enjoy.

http://www.bbc.co.uk/nature/life/Eurasian_Treecreeper#p0085b7r

As part of my new – look Write Dorne I’m going to include some wildlife posts and pages on here in future. So, if  you’re interested in reading about some of the great wildlife I’ve been lucky enough to see in my part of Yorkshireland, call back sometime.

Thanks for dropping by.

Dorne x

 

 

 

 

Morning coffee: dreams.

Good morning from my part of Yorkshireland. I’m just back from a long walk with the Daisy dog and now I’m having my morning coffee.

I was thinking about one of my favourite films Inception. Every time I watch it I see something else that I hadn’t noticed before… it’s that type of film isn’t it? It’s mind-boggling stuff.

It’s layers upon layers and dreams of dreams. Nothing is as it seems and different dimensions converge. In other words we can’t explain everything. So true. If we could where would we be?

A great movie, great music and some classy acting.

I hope your coffee was good.

Thanks for dropping by.

Dorne x

#Gluten Withdrawal Symptoms

Thanks to Micki Rose for this post and blog.
I have gone gluten free and am in my first week of the withdrawal symptoms. Feel rubbish at the moment, but hope to feel better and lose some of my big bottom!
I’ll be back to bore you with the details and explain my reasons for giving up gluten… when I can stay awake long enough.
Thanks for reading.
Dorne x

TrulyGlutenFree

I am currently helping a particular chap who, we assume, is suffering with ‘gluten withdrawal’. This is a pretty common phenomenon when you remove what are essentially very addictive (and opoid-like) substances from your body. I wrote about this here and here too.

P is suffering from neurological symptoms (mostly anxiety and depression) and not having a very nice time of it. He has been searching for reassurance on the internet (as we all do!) and came up with a couple of really useful links, (actually ones already on this blog – follow the second link above), but we share them again here for anyone else needing them:

First, a LiveStrong piece: Gluten Free Diet and Withdrawal which details some of the theories why it happens to some people. It doesn’t happen severely to most people in my experience with patients so far, but almost everyone gets some form of…

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Writing in Pajamas

To be lost in the moment – lovely.
Enjoyed this post and so I am reblogging it on Write Dorne.
Thanks to D Wallace Peach and thanks to you for dropping by.
Dorne x

Myths of the Mirror

pajamas Peach pj’s on the line

I just spent 5 days editing without changing out of my pajamas. It seemed a good time to share an old guest post I had the honor of contributing to Seumas Gallacher’s wonderful blog. Thus…Writing in Pajamas.

To me, flannel pajamas are symbolic. Whenever I get the chance, I wear them all day, and in case you were wondering, I’m pj-clad as I type this post.

In my mother’s generation, all-day pajamas indicated a mortifying degree of sloth. Pinch-lipped gossips would roll their eyes toward heaven, conjuring images of beer before breakfast, dust bunnies, and soap operas. If a woman wore pajamas all day, she certainly didn’t chair the holiday bazaar or volunteer at the library. Her kids lacked appropriate moral supervision and, no doubt, roamed the neighborhood like hooligans. Never mind her neglected spouse nibbling TV dinners after a long day at the plant.

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Welcome 2017! How will you live your year?

fibro-fog-for-wd-4January 1, 2017 – gosh that feels good to write that. It’s a new year – all fresh and virginal.

It’s a bit weird how one tiny second that takes us from one year to the next is so liberating. And it’s all in the mind. Nothing has really changed, but the power of our collective minds makes it so.

We have a new year and new challenges to deal with. But, we have fresh hope and a sense of a new beginning.

True, some folk are still on a rather warped and destructive path of their sense of justice… that’s life. We don’t have to let them win though.

We have a break up with Europe to face and an uncertain and controversial person about to enter one of the most powerful posts in the world. Wars rage and famine continues to take lives all too easily.

Change is going to be the buzz word of 2017.  Change can scare folk rigid. But, it  can also deliver pleasant and unexpected surprises.

Like that job you took that you hated at first and then really fell in love with, as you adapted to the change. Or the  move to a house that didn’t feel like home and then you cried, when you had to leave it and move on.

We can let the world and its current events scare us , or we can choose to live and see the good things.

Wherever you are and whoever you are I wish you a good and peaceful 2017. May you rise to your challenges and find the good in this weird world – that is of our making.

How about you? Do you love or fear change? Does 2017 fill you with hope?

Thanks for reading – it is truly appreciated.

Dorne x