An Hour at Cockington Village

We left Dawlish under clouds and a mist at sea but when my brother Bill and I arrived at Cockington (Torquay) the sun came out. We had a wonderful hour (dictated somewhat by the ticket we acquired in the car park) wandering through the village and walking by the lakes. We were pricked by the memory of last time we came to Cockington together – when our dad was ill near the end of his life – but we lingered not and walked on through gardens with flowers and live music. We drove home in the sunshine, with the top down on my sporty little Peugeot, and we smiled all the way; we were so glad that we went to Cockington for an hour. My neighbour Martin said it had been miserable all day in Dawlish.

Dying is no Joke

Well, it is a joke in this instance. Our friend Roland (the Birdman from Brisbane) sent me this “Joke of the week” from “The Courier Mail”:

As the elderly man lay dying in his bed, he suddenly smelt the aroma of his favourite homemade chocolate chip biscuits wafting up the stairs. Gathering his remaining strength, he lifted himself from the bed, and slowly made his way out of the bedroom and downstairs, gripping the railing with both hands. With laboured breath, he leaned against the doorframe, gazing wide-eyed into the kitchen.

He couldn’t believe his eyes. There, on the kitchen table, were hundreds of his favourite chocolate chip biscuits! Was he in Heaven or was it one last act of kindness from his devoted wife to see that he left this world a happy man? Mustering one great final effort, he threw himself toward the table, grabbed a biscuit and started eating.

Each bite seemed to bring him back to life. He reached for another. But before he could grab it he heard his wife scream:

“Get away from those biscuits! They’re for the funeral!”

Bad News, Good News

Roger Moore

Yesterday was a bad news day. First, I heard about the genocide and injury to young concertgoers in Manchester; and later, the news about the death of Roger Moore, the actor we all knew as Simon Templar in “The Saint” when I was a child in the sixties.

My brother Bill, who is over from Australia and staying with us at present, had been out with my sister Mary and her family all day so I didn’t know if he’d heard the news.

“Did you hear that Roger Moore is dead?” I asked sadly as he entered the kitchen.

“No, really?” he was surprised, and he paused before continuing. “He’ll be with the other saints now.”

“When he arrives at the Pearly Gates,” my husband Chris chipped in, “he can tell St.Peter that his body is a templar!”

~~~~~~~

Shortly, Bill recounted part of a conversation he’d had with our mum (alias Supergran).

“My brain is really quite good and my memory isn’t too bad,” Mum assured my older brother, “I haven’t got that trouble other old people have – oh… oh… what is it called?”

 

An Urgent Delivery

There was a problem at the sorting office and a very old stork called Caesar was brought in for the extra-special delivery. Unusually, the tiny parcel, weighing in at 4lbs 12ozs, arrived seven and a half weeks early and is stopping over at the Royal Sussex for a bit of V.I.P. treatment before going home.

Penelope Zsa Zsa Kashmir Porch is exceedingly beautiful, as you can see, and has long slim legs and big feet (she has something of her grandmother about her – the big feet, not the slim legs!).

Both she and her mum are doing well and, in a couple of weeks, I shall be winging my way up to Brighton to lend a hand, and love and hug her. I’m so pleased that I shall be known as “Bebe” instead of Granny, and Chris will be called “Baba” (not to be confused with Baa Baa! Although he is a lamb.) And should Penelope ever become a film star she can easily drop a couple of her names…

Whilst talking about our gorgeous new-comer’s glamorous name my sister, Mary, was reminded of an interview between the beautiful actress Zsa Zsa Gabor and the Irish interviewer Terry Wogan many years ago, which she said went something like this…

– “So Zsa Zsa, how many times have you been married?

– “Eight times Darlink. Do you know that all of my husbands accused me of being a bad     housekeeper? But I proved them all wrong – I kept all of the houses!”

–  “I’ve only been married once and I’m still with my wife.”

–  “Really? Oh you poor man!”

Just Call Me Princess

“What’s this?” Chris asked, picking up a bookmark which must have fallen out of a book onto the top of a bookshelf.

“It’s my personalized ‘Sally’ bookmark,” I said. “I think Mary gave it to me years ago.”

Sally (3)

“Meaning Ladylike,” he said, raising his eyebrows, as he began to read down the list of meanings for the name Sally, “‘Originating from Hebrew. Elegant and refined you are often called Princess.”‘

“That’s me,” I confirmed. (It’s so good to hear nice things, no matter the source.)

“But I don’t call you Princess – who calls you Princess?”, my husband feigned jealousy.

“Well, I don’t know but I’m sure that someone has called me Princess,” I said, keeping to myself a name that sprang to mind instantly (you have to keep some things to yourself!).

“‘Comfortable in your own company or with others’, and ‘A joy to be with you are liked by everyone.’ That’s true,” Chris conceded with a smile and we went to bed.

I hasten to say it was bedtime when we had this conversation.

A short while later in bed, when Chris was reading yet another “Reader’s Digest” and I was checking my smart phone for messages before closing down for the night, I discovered a “friend request” from an unknown name. The name appeared to me to be Indian and the small profile icon was an image of a vase of flowers. I clicked on the icon to find out more before making the decision to reject or accept the request. The message read:

“Take good care of yourself Princess!”

“Look at that!” I turned to Chris excitedly, “Somebody called me Princess.”

“Funnier still,” Chris said pointing to the line he had been reading, “at that very moment I read the word Princess!” (The article was about Japanese Princes and Princesses.)

“Synchronicity!” we said together.

And if there is any meaning to this, I think that something is trying to tell Chris to call me Princess. That will be the day!

Pandora’s Box Set of Teeth

Chris was avidly consuming a “Reader’s Digest” and I was reading the paper in bed at around midnight when I came across this article with the glorious colour photograph (below) of Pandora the dog wearing dentures. (Maybe you’ve seen it in the press already.) I burst out laughing and so did Chris when I showed him. The story, too, is funny but I’m not so sure I believe that a full set of dentures was left buried in the garden by the previous residents; perhaps the present owner is shy to acknowledge his ownership. We all know it’s a delicate subject for most people. Pandora has no such reservations, indeed, she must like the reaction she gets when wearing her second-hand false teeth.

I must admit that we Porch children, too, loved to wear false teeth. We thought them so funny – they way they never fitted right, the teeth were too small and they made your lips bulge out, contorting our faces – so hilarious! Then, of course, we devoured the delicious sweet confections and tried another top set, if we had any more, to see if it fit any better.

Occasionally, on shopping expeditions to Tesco’s at Newton Abbot, I succumb to the temptation to buy modern sweet “Lips and Teeth”, which are even smaller than the ones we had in Australia in the sixties. No, they don’t fit at all well but John, the security guard, and I have fun trying them on regardless. John’s a good sport and very popular with the ladies. He’s not exactly handsome but… with his shaven head and the tiny confectionery teeth he looks like a big bonny baby.

Pandora's box set

Cyber Attacks Worry Supergran

Supergran saves hundreds on runaway train in IndiaAs you can see from recent photographs, my mum Betty (alias Supergran), is, as always, very much concerned with saving the world; she’d do anything to help if she can. In fact Supergran is in her element saving runaway trains and acting as “auto-pilot” for planes with defects that might otherwise make it impossible for them to reach their runways. She is a “hands on” (albeit gloved) super heroine and will tackle any trouble… almost. Unfortunately, Supergran has her one weak point – her Kryptonite – in that she fears high technology, and rightly so, as we are all discovering.

The latest news about cyber attacks and ransom demands on the NHS and other institutions in Britain, and around the world, has been worrying Supergran greatly. At ninety-four our heroine is still ultra savvy and a force to be reckoned with but, occasionally, the wrong words come out (yes, it happens to us all). Yesterday, whilst we were in the car on our shopping trip (Mum may be able to fly under her own steam but she doesn’t drive – all part of the mild mannered great-grandmother act) – she was frequently deep in thought and highly worried about the NHS being held to ransom. Mum kept coming back to the subject.

“What do you think?” Supergran asked. “Will the government pay the random?”

Supergran takes control

The Introverted Extrovert

You wouldn’t know – I didn’t tell you – that I’ve been fostering a rather reluctant youngster for around four weeks now. Well I know that there are no guarantees about these things – you sort of take pot luck – but I must admit that I’ve been quite disappointed, worried even. You see at first she was a bright young thing and full of the joys of spring, so much so that I used to think of her as Blossom or Jazzy… She hasn’t been “jazzy” since that first week, far from it.

Luckily, I did “A Level Psychology” years ago, and now, with my newfound interest in philosophy as well, I have been trying to fathom the problem with my charge in the hope that I may be able to help. Unlike me – I’m an extroverted introvert (well you must speak if you want anyone to listen) – I came to the conclusion that Jazzy is an introverted extrovert, meaning that something has been preventing her from showing her natural colours. I just hoped it wasn’t me! I worried she was feeling “in the shade” although it has to be said that the neighbours were green with envy (if not ivy); but she’s not been doing so bloomin’ well since that first week – talk about shrinking violets and wallflowers!

A few minutes ago I went out to see Jasmine, thinking that perhaps she’s like me in the respect that I love the sun; I’d move her from the shaded wall up to the sunny balcony, and then I noticed something wonderful. Little pink buds are dotted all over her – she has nestled in and has decided to bloom again. It appears I can’t be such a failure as a foster mother after all even though we’re quite unalike.

Esperanto – I Hope

“Who uses Esperanto?” I asked Chris over breakfast.

The previous night we had watched a new, and different type of film, called “Captain Fantastic” starring Viggo Mortensen, about a family going it alone in the wilds of “the North Pacific” and the underlying problems of “opting out”, especially with regard to the wishes and aspirations of the individual children; and had the mother’s disorder, leading to her premature demise, been exacerbated by their isolated natural lifestyle? Of course, the home educated children were geniuses and could even speak Esperanto, which is why Esperanto was on my mind.

Chris Googled “Esperanto” on his mobile phone and soon informed me that (reading from Wikepedia), “It is the most widely spoken constructed language in the world.[7] The Polish-Jewish ophthalmologist L. L. Zamenhof published the first book detailing Esperanto, Unua Libro, on 26 July 1887. The name of Esperanto derives from Doktoro Esperanto (“Esperanto” translates as “one who hopes”), the pseudonym under which Zamenhof published Unua Libro.[8]

“Goodness!”, I said, “I wonder why an ophthalmologist felt the need to develop Esperanto.”

“Perhaps he didn’t see eye-to-eye with his patients!”, Chris observed.

He read on for a couple more paragraphs after which I understood a good deal more than I did before about the purpose and goals of introducing a constructed language that incorporates words from several other languages (I’ll paste some of the text below).

“Do you think we should learn Esperanto? I laughed.

“So we can understand each other at last?” my husband paused and shook his head, “I don’t think it will help!”

Captain Fantastic review – thrilling and poignant | Film | The Guardian

https://www.theguardian.com › Arts › Movies › Captain Fantastic

Rating: 4 – ‎Review by Mark Kermode, Observer…

11 Sep 2016 – Family fantastic: from left, Shree Crooks, Charlie Shotwell, George MacKay, Nicholas Hamilton, Samantha Isler and Annalise Basso.

Esperanto (/ˌɛspəˈrænt/ or /ˈrɑː/;[5][6] in Esperanto: [espeˈranto] About this sound listen ) is a constructed international auxiliary language. It is the most widely spoken constructed language in the world.[7] The Polish-Jewish ophthalmologist L. L. Zamenhof published the first book detailing Esperanto, Unua Libro, on 26 July 1887. The name of Esperanto derives from Doktoro Esperanto (“Esperanto” translates as “one who hopes”), the pseudonym under which Zamenhof published Unua Libro.[8]

Zamenhof had three goals, as he wrote in Unua Libro:

  1. “To render the study of the language so easy as to make its acquisition mere play to the learner.”
  2. “To enable the learner to make direct use of his knowledge with persons of any nationality, whether the language be universally accepted or not; in other words, the language is to be directly a means of international communication.”
  3. “To find some means of overcoming the natural indifference of mankind, and disposing them, in the quickest manner possible, and en masse, to learn and use the proposed language as a living one, and not only in last extremities, and with the key at hand.”[9]

Up to two million people worldwide, to varying degrees, speak Esperanto,[10] including about 1,000 to 2,000 native speakers who learned Esperanto from birth.[1]The World Esperanto Association has more than 5,500 members in 120[11] countries. Its usage is highest in Europe, East Asia, and South America.[12] lernu!, the most popular online learning platform for Esperanto, reported 150,000 registered users in 2013, and sees between 150,000 and 200,000 visitors each month.[13]With about 239,000 articles, Esperanto Wikipedia is the 32nd-largest Wikipedia as measured by the number of articles,[14] and is the largest Wikipedia in a constructed language.[15] On 22 February 2012, Google Translate added Esperanto as its 64th language.[16] On 28 May 2015, the language learning platform Duolingo launched an Esperanto course for English speakers. As of 5 April 2017, over 800,000 users had signed up,[17][18][19] with approximately 30 users completing the course every day.[20]

The first World Congress of Esperanto was organized in France in 1905. Since then, congresses have been held in various countries every year, with the exceptions of years during the world wars. Although no country has adopted Esperanto officially, “Esperantujo” is the collective name given to places where it is spoken. Esperanto was recommended by the French Academy of Sciences in 1921 and recognized by UNESCO in 1954, which recommended in 1985 that international non-governmental organizations use Esperanto. Esperanto was the 32nd language accepted as adhering to the “Common European Framework of Reference for Languages” in 2007.[21]

Esperanto is currently the language of instruction of the International Academy of Sciences in San Marino.[22]

Esperanto is seen by many of its speakers[who?] as an alternative or addition to the growing use of English throughout the world, offering a language that is easier for French speakers to learn than English.[23]

Guantanamera, Guantanamera

Guantanamera – The Sandpipers – YouTube

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Jm1anurhbeg

Now if you just want to click on the youtube link above and hear The Sandpipers’ well-known song from 1966 then please do so but, if you’re wondering at the title of my blog post, you may be interested to know why I looked in the mirror this morning and felt the urge to sing “Guantanamera” (not to be confused with Guantanamo, which my text prompt insists is the word I should use); and also, why all day long I have been breaking into bursts of conversation spoken with a Mexican Spanish accent.
“Hey gringo!”, I called out (adopting my “Speedy Gonzales” accent) from our bedroom door at the bottom of the stairs, “Are you wearing shorts today?”
That brought Chris to the top of the stairs.
“No I’m not…”, he paused and smiled as he observed me, “but as you’re wearing shorts I think I’ll join you!” (We’re very together like that.)
Actually, it wasn’t my Aussie red shorts that put the smile on my husband’s face, it was the new top, which I acquired at half-price from Tesco’s last Saturday. I kind of understood why they hadn’t been big sellers on the racks – they were so colourful! And stripey! And red, white, orange, black and pink… with a big, bobble-edged gathered flounce all around the shoulders (no, not like Coco the clown, but a cheerful Mexican or Peruvian!).
“How do I look?” I asked Chris.
“Guantanamera, da da da, Guantanamera,” he sang but he couldn’t sing more than that because he doesn’t know any more of the words.
“Si Señor, I, too, was singing that a minute ago,” I said (like Speedy”) and added, “Riba, riba… anderlay, anderlay (whatever that means)…”
“If you go to Rosie’s farm today the alpacas will get excited,” Chris said before taking a bite of his toast and marmalade.
“Oh, Señor, I suppose I do look a bit funny for Dawlish – I might go and change, anderlay, anderlay (or is it underlay?)” I suggested.
“No, no, you’ll be a trailblazer,” Chris said and hummed the tune of Guantanamera.
“The Mexican trail,” I laughed.
“If only I’d known I’d have brought my pan pipes,” he quipped.
Out by the front door I sang and hummed Guantanamera while I put on my sandals. Chris joined me and grabbed the car keys off the hook.
“Come on, riba, riba, let’s go to Mum’s and frighten her,” he said, “and don’t forget the guitar!”
Guantanamera
Guantanamera, guajira guantanamera
Guantanamera, guajira guantanamera
Yo soy un hombre sincero
De don de crece la palma
Yo soy un hombre sincero
De don de crece la palma
Antes des morirme quiero
Echar mis versos del alma
Guantanamera, guajira, guantanamera
Guantanamera, guajira guantanamera
Mi verso es de un verde claro
Y de un carmín encendido
Mi verso es de un verde claro
Y de un carmín encendido
Mi verso es un querido cielo
Que busca en el monte amparo
Guantanamera, guajira, guantanamera
Guantanamera, guajira, guantanamera
Songwriters: Peter Seeger / Julian Orbon / Hector Angulo / Jose Fernandez Diaz
Guantanamera lyrics © Peermusic Publishing, The Bicycle Music Company