UWOTD

The Ulster Word Of The Day will have a very short explanation as it's not the most pleasant of words and one I've not heard for probably 40 or more years.

I left school and my home in N. Ireland (Ulster to those who aren't in the know) at 18 to go to University in England but I don't even remember hearing this word used much towards the end of my time at home. And the word is..........

Boke : vomit.

Like vomit, boke was both the substance expelled and the verb that did the expelling.

"Hey did ye hear that wee Tommy just boked all over Sister Mary ?"  

"Nooooo and was there any tomato in his boke ?"

"Sure there's always tomato in boke so there is, ye daft eegit."

"Ohhh Sister Mary'd better get out of that habit, then. "

"That's an old joke and ye'r still an eegit."

Kids can be sooooo cruel.

Don't Rain On My Parade

Yesterday (Fri) we left to spend the weekend at the beach.  I'd promised Debby the trip as a birthday present last October so it was long overdue. It's my last weekend before I go home to England and weatherwise I knew before setting off that it hadn't been a good idea to put all my eggs in one basket, so to speak, by leaving it so late.  The omens and the forecast were bad.

We had a short 85 mile drive across to the East coast town of Ft. Pierce and got a lovely big room at a new LaQuinta Inn & Suites motel just off I-95. It has a love seat, another matching chair, a large fridge, microwave, office area with desk and chair, a monster flat screen tv, high speed wi-fi and so on.

I only mention these things because we were glad to have them today when we woke up to rain, heavy rain.  I've not experienced much rain in the last 6 months so I guess this was good preparation for going home. But it's Florida and rain never usually lasts long.

We had a leisurely breakfast in the motel dining room and then came back to the room and chilled.  We had a fridge full of food and drink, the tv, our laptops, loads of downloaded movies and even a few shows recorded onto dvd from earlier in the week.

Rain ?  We didn't care.  I ate about 50 M&M's and watched Coronation Street. Deb worked out in the motel gym. Yes I felt bad afterwards and not all caused by the M&M's. 

Then the rain stopped and things brightened up.  We went to Outback for an early supper and then on to Sams Club for a bit of shopping.  As Leeds United had won away earlier, all in all it's been a grand day despite the inclement weather and now, at 7:15pm, there is a lovely peach glow on the horizon.  Either there has been an explosion at the Kennedy Space Centre up the road or it's a gentle sunset.  I suspect the later.

The forecast is only 'ok' for tomorrow so we may not even get to the beach.  

Again, we won't care.  This is Florida and even with bad weather, life is pretty good.

Street Walking 2009 Style

I've just spent about 2 hrs going along the streets of my home town, Leeds in England.

I stopped outside Daphne's house and although there was a little gray/silver car outside on the road meaning one of the actors was inside doing some office work, there wasn't a car in the driveway and so I moved on.

Later I was in the city centre and noticed many new shops on Briggate (as I hadn't been into town for over 6 months remember) and saw a lot of construction going on along The Headrow. It was a lovely sunny day and everything was so clear and bright.  I then went along Great Wilson Street to have a nostalgic look at the ASDA headquarters where I spent so many years before I retired.

Now I've had enough and am worn out but it's not my legs that are tired......just my fingers.

You see I've been 'playing' with Google Street View as they've added 25 UK cities to their list and now I can sit in my chair and zoom along many of the city streets and even out into the suburbs as if I was sitting on top of a sightseeing tour bus.  Sadly, as I live north of the Leeds Outer Ring Road, my street isn't covered.  I'd have liked to have seen it - if only to be sure I closed the bathroom window last October.  Bit late now I guess.

I love this sort of thing; being able to go virtually where I want.  Virtually.  I've not even explored any other cities and there are hundreds out there. And they've even fuzzed out every vehicle licence plate and every human face to protect privacy.  So don't zoom over to Vegas hoping to spot your husband coming out of Caesars Palace when he said he was in Cleveland visiting his gran in hospital. Of course you still should be able to recognise what he was wearing when he left the house so you're not 100% safe there, Frankie boy.  It's Vegas.  Wear a dress.

This is totally forgetting that the photos they've used may be many months or years old. 

Anyway once I've had some supper, I think I'll take a 'walk' along the Champs-Elysees or maybe the Piazza Pio XII and see if I can spot the Pope out on his bike. You never know.

Yellow Pages were just a couple of decades ahead of themselves with their slogan "let your fingers do the walking."  I hope someone thought to copyright it.

UWOTD

I grew up in the small farming town of Ballymoney in N. Ireland from 1952-1970 and after that I left for England and only returned sporadically to see my parents.  My dad died in 1986 (aged 74) and mum in 2003 (aged 80).  I've not been back since her death.

And that's more than enough personal stuff for now !

Back in those sepia days, we young 'uns had no Playstations, Gameboys or even Sex In The City to keep us amused and so we played outdoors a lot and were all the healthier for it. Obesity hadn't been invented yet and I was your typical weedy geek (waiting for NASA to head hunt me) with teenage acne, brylcreem hair and glasses lenses so thick that I used them to start many a bonfire. My life of arson can be traced back to those days ! 

As I've said many times before, I can't remember much of my childhood/teen years but I do remember having a home made go-kart at one time.  My dad was a painter and decorator and was one of those men who could turn his hand to just about anything.  I inherited none of his skills which is why, even today, I believe I was adopted. 

I'm sure that building a go-kart wouldn't have been beyond his skills and just writing about it now, takes me right back to those days and I can SEE myself sitting on the kart with the steering string in my hands all ready to set off on some amazing ride - lasting all of 5 seconds and taking me a heady 30 yards from my starting point.  And this was all done without the aid of a GPS, I'll have you know.

I'd have had a standard kart of the day - a T shaped construction with old pram wheels and a short length of bailing twine threaded through both ends of the movable steering block which could also be turned with my feet.  In those days of unlimited energy, aerodynamics wasn't an issue and I braved the elements without a crash helmet, knee pads or personal protection of any sort.  We tended to take Vatican edicts a bit too literally at our house. 

And so I finally get to the point.....the Ulster Word Of The Day !!!

Guider :  a home made go-kart.

You Don't Have To Be Irish..........

......to be Irish.

What about ye ?  What's the craic ?  Anyone fancy some fadge ?  It's class, y'know.

Ok if you've all been reading my Ulster Words Of The Day (UWOTD) posts recently, you'll be totally onboard with all those questions and be ready to give sparkling replies.  Or maybe not.

Anyway the fact that this is a 55+ Community Park in the middle of Florida hasn't stopped many of the residents from claiming Irish ancestry somewhere in their distant past or inventing it for the day if it didn't exist.

I've not seen so much green since I got drunk at Roundhay Rugby Club and woke up on top of the snooker table.  

So I'm just back from a photographic mission - taking photos of all the Irishy stuff that's out in the park on this St. Patrick's Day.

The big inflatable is by far the best and even lights up at night. It's been funny seeing him lying prostrate on the lawn these last few days just waiting for the special day to arrive so he could be pumped full of air. Given even the mild breeze today, he was swaying a bit and was slightly unsteady on his feet - just like the real thing really !!

And what about the one hanging from a tree in photo 3 ??!!  What's THAT all about ??  I had to wait ages for him to swing around in the breeze so he'd be facing me for the photo.  I wonder if that sort of thing happened in real life too ?!

Here are a few more of the banner variety...........





It was all grand, so it was. Loads of residents wearing 'the green' and even more cheery smiles on faces than usual, although that might have been down to the Tuesday Medicare delivery.

I'm not sure if there is an Irish pub in Sebring but I'm sure a few will BE Irish this evening.

Sláinte chugat.

Almost Tropical Buttonwood Bay.

Sunny Buttonwood Bay may be hot and sunny most days but it's not quite on the equator.  It's about 1766 miles north of it in fact but as Leeds is 1700 miles further north again, that explains why it's 50F in Leeds right now and 83F in Buttonwood Bay.

I'm not doing this temperature and climate comparison just to have a gloat.  Perish the thought.

Knowing that in 9 days time I'll be heading back to those lower temps is already having a sobering effect on such gloating.  Then I'll be the 'gloated' and not the 'gloatee' and I'm not looking forward to that at all.

Anyway THE reason for all this meteorological mumbo jumbo is because the other day, when out and about on my walk around the park, I took some photos of these beauties......





Wanting to do all the work myself, I later surfed t'internet and decided they were papayas. Mexican papayas in fact - before you jump on me and beat me about the head with the Hawaiian variety.  And they're not paw-paws either, even though I prefer that name as it conjours up that Jungle Book song that I'm not going to mention or you'll be singing it all day and it might well push Agadoo out - opps sorry !!

But I wasn't 100% sure of my facts and so I jumped on the golf cart and zoomed round to the house in question and asked Angie, the owner, and she confirmed it was a papaya tree. 

I didn't have the heart to tell her that from my extensive surfing, I'd learned it's not a tree at all but a plant.  Just a very BIG plant.

As everyone here is jolly friendly indeed and she was a wee dote as well, she gave me one to take home with me.....and here it is with a pop can to give scale.


When it's ripe (feel for it going a bit soft when gently squeezed), I'm sure Deb/Den will give it a try but being a Leeds Lad, it'll be just way too exotic for me.  It's quite light, has loads of seeds inside and tastes like a mix of smokey bacon chips and Branston pickle.

No I'm only joking. It seems the taste ranges from 'soft, juicy and silky smooth with a delicate sweet flavour with a somewhat musky or sour finish' to another report describing it as like the taste of 'moist feet'.

I'm not sure what those taste like and I've no wish to try to find out. If any of you have tried one, do let me know. In the meantime, I'll stick to Tesco's apples and bananas thank you very much and leave papayas to Johnny Foreigner and Waitrose shoppers ! 

UWOTD

Following on from watching the shuttle launch last evening, the UWOTD has really picked itself.

Class : first rate, brilliant. 

Now I know you'll all be saying that this isn't a special Ulster word at all as something being called 'first class' is a common enough description of a great event and it's still used on planes and trains to describe the best seats.

But as far as I'm aware, it's only in Ulster that the word, on it's own, is used when wanting to get over that what has happened was great, awesome, brilliant, fantastic.

So if a bunch of Ulster folk had been standing on the West Coast of Ireland at 11:43pm local time last night and had VERY good eyesight, they'd have gone to the pub later on and the following conversation might have taken place.........

Barman : "Ahh what about ye's; what's the craic ?"

Bunch : "Just watched the launch of that there shuttle thing."

Barman : "Och really ?  An what'd ye think o it ?"

Bunch :  "It was class, so it was; class.  Now gay us 6 lemonades and a diet Iron Bru."

And then people wonder why I left !

Shuttle Launch - Honest !

A few minutes ago, the Space Shuttle Discovery lifted off on mission STS-119.

Here in slightly dark Buttonwood Bay we are about 100 miles from The Cape and so we don't get much of a view of launches but hey, it's better than nothing.

It was also a cloudy evening and so I've only got 2 photos to post - one shows a dot with a bright trail behind it and the other shows that trail a few seconds after the shuttle went into the clouds and was lost from view.

I don't expect a call from NASA anytime soon asking for copies !!

UWOTD

The word today isn't really confined to N. Ireland but as it's not that common anywhere outside of Ireland as a whole and as St. Patrick's Day is fast approaching, to be sure, I'll pop it into today's post.

Craic : fun times, entertaining conversation. (Pronounced crack)

It was many years into adulthood before I saw the word written down and till then I'd just assumed it was Crack.  Not to be confused with the the fun time substance used by dope heads the world over !

As well as the above explanation, when you're out and about in Ulster you'll often be greeted with a combination of this word and the phrase I told you about in a previous UWOTD post.

"Aw what about ye ?  What's the craic ?"  Translated to "How are you, dear chap, and do tell me what's going on in your life right now."

If you've been to a party or down to the pub and had a jolly good time there, you'd say "oh that was great craic, wasn't it ?"

So this little word has a plethera of meanings but all brought together under the general umbrella of 'good times.'

After all, that's what the Irish (and N. Irish) are famous for.

Walking With Roger

After my daily walk yesterday I decided to delete all the songs on my MP3 and add new ones.  Even with a couple of thousand tunes on it, I'd been round them all a couple of times and so wanted a complete change.

So today I went to my laptop's music folder where I store about 9,000 songs initially in name order so that they can be resorted by artist or album or even genre as the mood takes me.  I put them into album order but sadly did this just about 15 minutes before starting my walk and so only had time to pick one album and transfer the songs across to the MP3.

I'd recently downloaded "The World Of Roger Whittaker" as it was in the charts and I quite like his voice.  I'd class his music as 'Easy Listening" so I guess picking it for walking music was asking for trouble but I pretty much keep an even pace going no matter what music I listen to these days.

Or so I thought.

Things started out ok. The first song, Durham Town, was a decent enough song to warm up to but the pace never really picked up after that.  It wasn't so much easy listening music as fall asleep while listening music.  By the time old Roger (he's about to have his 73rd birthday) started whistling The Skye Boat Song, he'd pretty much lost me. How do you walk to someone whistling a slow dirge of a song ?! 

I was desperate to skip to another album but I didn't have one.  Yes I know I could've, and should've, turned off the MP3 completely but I felt that ANY music was better than NO music.  But then he started warbling Quel Mode Merveilleux  - a white African singing a song made famous by a black African American and singing it......in French. 

The rest of the walk was done music free.

A Whole New World

Here in our part of sunny Buttonwood Bay (to be 83F today) we're all very close with our neighbours.  I mean our homes are, but we get on well with the people too. 

Coming from the UK where, if you live in a semi like I do, you can hear the neighbours fart while they watch tv, this isn't a major issue.  Back home my neighbours are Jewish, already, so I hear much more than their farts but that's probably TMI for a post this early in the morning.

So as we sit here in our recliner chairs, we usually have a grand view of the side of a huge motorhome just about 12 feet from our windows. Remember that parts of this park are for snowbirds who arrive for the season in motorhomes or pulling trailers or 5th wheels.  Being parked on a corner lot, this particular RV monster pretty much blocks our view of the junction and we just get fleeting glimpses of walkers and golf carts and vehicles as they come down our street and then go left or right.

A couple of days ago that all changed when our neighbours pulled out of the park for a while. The husband had to go back to their northern home for some surgery and so we've got a view again.

This is the view looking back at our house and although they've left items behind like their car and golf cart and so on, hopefully you can still see the space between the green matting (which they'd step down onto from their motorhome door) and our truck. You see just how close we are to our neighbours here !!


But now we can get prolonged views of the man (obviously from Finland) who walks briskly every morning with two ski type poles.  We can watch out for the old lady who shuffles along barely lifting her feet and worries us to death that she'll trip over a chewing gum wrapper.  We'll be able to watch all the residents whose dogs are talking them for a walk. We'll see more of the man who has a dodgy right leg so has adapted his bike so only the left pedal goes round. We'll see the little old lady who pushes a walker that has a cage on the front containing her cat. We'll enjoy for a bit longer all the souped up golf carts that pass by our house and spend more time watching the various birds and animals that explore the houses around us.

Apart from this improved view, we also get much more of a lovely cooling flow of air now that the mobile breeze block has gone. This was dramatically obvious from the moment it pulled out of it's bay and we all commented on it.

"Wow we've got a lovely cooling flow of air now" we said to each other.  And smiled knowingly like a bunch of annoying buddists at Orlando airport.



So to summarise, we now have a room with a view.  And here it is. 

When you've not had much of a view for the previous 5 months or so, I can tell you it's jolly nice.  I hope our neighbour's surgery goes well of course but as I've only got 2 weeks left here before flying home to England, I hope he takes his time recovering. 

UWOTD

Todays word really brings back memories for me.

My dad was a painter & decorator and worked all his life for a company in Ballymoney called Taggarts. Even then it was called Hugh Taggart & Sons, so it's probably still there as those sorts of companies always do well and like to have 'Decorating Homes Since 1668' or something on the sides of their vans.

He wasn't paid much and as money was tight, he also did private work after he'd finished his normal job.  Dad was one of a rare breed who did great work and hardly charged more than the cost of the materials. This was due in part to most of his 'customers' being from farming stock and so would haggle over everything to get the best deal. But mostly it was down to dad's nature as he was a gentle soul who although he was well aware we needed every penny, would find it hard to make any sort of profit out of his fellow man, or woman.  

It wasn't the best character trait to have when dealing with Ulster farmers !! 

So he worked long hours and it always seemed to me that he was either leaving for his normal daily work or returning late at night from a private job all the time I was living at home.  This was partly why Sundays were such magical days, to be enjoyed with family trips to the seaside - after the huge Ulster breakfast of course.

And so we get to THE word for today.  

A piece : a sandwich or sometimes a full packed lunch.

My mum would be up early to fix dad's lunch for him to take to work and more often than not, this would include a sandwich, even if it was just a jam sandwich. This would be called a piece. The previous night she might have asked my dad what he wanted "in his piece" but I suspect this rarely happened and dad basically got what she gave him !

When visiting relatives and friends, tea would be brewing in the pot and the triple tiered cake stand would be brought out almost before we'd all sat down.  To be in a house for more than 5 minutes without the offer of tea and a "wee something" was unheard off.  But for us kids, before we could get our hands on the sweet goodies on the cake stand, we'd be asked if we wanted "a piece" in the hopes we'd fill up on bread and jam and so not eat all the goodies.  

But we weren't daft and usually tried to avoid the bread and even the cakes as we knew that if we held out, an even bigger and better goodie would be forthcoming - a home baked pavlova or lemon merangue pie !!!!    I've no idea why these were so common in N. Ireland; maybe they were simple to bake or something but man were they good.  The merangue would stick to your teeth so you could still enjoy bits of it hours later on the drive home. A dessert that kept on giving.

Anyway I'm digressing, again.  The odd thing about "a piece" was it was never used, in my experience, with any mention of a filling.  So you'd never be asked if you wanted "a ham and tomato piece" or even "a jam piece."  It was just "a piece" and it's contents, if there were any, would remain a mystery until it was in front of you. Most times it would just be jam.

Finally, it's not an item you'd ever see on a restaurant or cafe menu but if you're ever visiting N. Ireland and are offered "a piece" at a friend or relative's house, at least you'll now know not to follow up with "a piece of what ?"

But before saying yes to the offer, always remember there may be a freshly baked lemon merangue pie lurking in the oven.

A Pirate's Life For Me - Not !!

Last evening, a couple of our friends here in sunny Buttonwood Bay, Jan & Barrie, invited us out on their pontoon boat for a 3 hr trip around Lake Josephine to enjoy a cruise and see the sunset from a different vantage point. 

So at 5pm, armed with drinks and nibbles, every camera and lens I had at my disposal and coated from head to foot in factor 56 so that the sun couldn't get to me nor could mozzies even land on me, we stepped onboard the good ship NONAME.......as amazingly they'd never named their craft.

Normally I'd not bother with sun block at 5pm but here things are quite different from home. The sun is at it's hottest about this time and to prove this point, I set the outdoor part of my indoor/outdoor wireless thermometer on a patio chair in the sunshine today and it shot from 85F to over 100F in minutes.  It finally topped out at 122F and that was at 5:15pm.

I also needed some sort of head protection, being that I'm folically challenged as you know. I could've used a baseball cap but as we were going onto the water, I found something much more suitable........


Not quite the headgear for Lake Windermere or attending the Henley Regatta maybe, but on Lake Josephine, it worked a treat.

The lake we see from the pier is impressive enough but this aerial view shows that it is really a chain of three interconnecting 'lakes'.


It's not a great photo but over on the right is the long North/South strip of US-27 and I've crudely marked the park so you'll see which of the chain of 'lakes' is ours. You'll also see why it took us 3 hrs to cruise all around them and be back near the pier for sunset at 7:30pm.

I wanted video more than still photos so I was using the little Nikon compact camera for this purpose. It takes quite decent video and of course switches easily for still photos too. So these two photos showing Debby and myself on the boat and finally one of the sunset, were taken with it.



It was a lovely cruise and for that I thank Jan and Barrie, who came from Selby originally. Small world isn't it ?

It was also very strange to look at the oh so familiar pier from out on the lake and after waiting months to do so, I decided that I much prefer the view from dry land.

I guess I'm that rare breed of pirate; one that prefers the land !  Yarrrrrrr.

UWOTD

Just to cheese off Ruth, I'm going to post 2 words today.  My blog, my rules, remember !

Some words that I grew up hearing don't seem to need an explanation but we know how that goes.

Weans : small children.

It's simply wee 'uns merged to make a new word.  

But then we have ......

Greet : cry.

And it's not so obvious.

I mention these two words in one post as when I was growing up in N. Ireland, they often went together, or at least they were formed to go together.

Crying children became greetin' weans.  

Of course I was never accused of greetin' or greeting.  Not much anyway.  I stoically suffered all that life threw at me which considering I was once run over by a set of farming discs being pulled by a tractor, shows that as well as being a 'wee dote' I was also a 'brave wee dote.' 

(I hope you've all been keeping up with my UWOTD posts or else you'll be lost by now).

But when I went to boarding school at 11, my greetin' made up for lost time. I think it started when my parents car disappeared from view at roughly the same time as 4 huge 6th formers took it's place in my eyeline.  

It ended when I drove out the school gates 7 years later.

Reasons For Tax Increases - No.1

A woman in Leeds, my home city, has just been served with an ASBO for making frivilous 999 calls (911 in the US).

“Anti-Social Behaviour Orders are one way in which the police, in partnership with the local council, are able to challenge and confront unacceptable behaviour that impacts on the whole community. They give people subject of an order a final chance to change their ways. If they fail to take that opportunity and breach the order they will be arrested and dealt with by the courts.”   

Yes I know, it sounds like a bit of a slap on the wrist and that's understandable, because in effect, that's what it is.  Final chance ?  Don't make me laugh.

This woman agreed to an 'Acceptable Behaviour Contract' back in 2005 and was then issued with an 'Acceptable Behaviour Warning' in 2008 and the frivilous calls kept coming.  These ranged from claims she was being beaten by her boyfriend (it was just a verbal argument), to saying he was covered in blood (it was blackcurrent juice she'd thrown at him) to her wanting the police to find a home for her dog and wanting to report a neighbour for 'looking at her funny.'

Over 200 calls at an estimated cost in wasted police time etc of £500,000.  That's my taxpayer money, people !  Forgetting for the moment why a 999 call about wanting rid of a dog or claiming your neighbour has a lazy eye would cost 'me' £2,500, how can this have been allowed to go on for so long ?  And it's not just 999 calls either.  Workmen and contractors won't go to her house without police protection as both her and her boyfriend have made threats of violence again many of them.  Maybe I see now where the £500,000 has come from.

I know we don't want our prisons full of petty criminals who then invariably learn how to commit even worse crimes once released, but come on.....do something.  This woman, and many men and women like her, are laughing at the law and costing decent citizens a lot of hard earned money.  She may be mentally ill.  She may just be a pain in the ass.  But whatever she is, she's been it for some time and no amount of behaviour wrist slappings are going to work with her.  

Why should she and the boyfriend be COSTING us money like this ?  She should be PAYING for her anti social activities.

In the USA it's illegal to make even one false emergency call.  Each state has it's own penalties for doing so.  In California you get a $1000 fine, 6 months in jail, or both. Repeated calls incur a fine of $200 per call. In Virginia it's a year in jail and a $2,500 fine.  In fact in Virginia it's illegal to make a false report of an emergency or disaster by phone to ANYONE, not just by 911.  

But back to Julie Chadwick of Bawn Drive, Farnley, West Leeds (name and shame I say); lets see how long it takes until she makes another 999 call.

My guess it will be later this afternoon to complain about her ASBO ! 

UWOTD

Thanks to Jim McDonald, a character in the long running ITV soap, Coronation Street, the Ulster phrase of the day will be common to most Brits.  Well at least those who watched the show when he was in it !

What about ye ? :  How are you ?  How have you been ?  What are you doing these days ?

This is an Ulster greeting and for some reason has always driven me mad.  I hated when Jim said it on the show and as it was mostly used by people from Belfast, I hated it on the few occasions it was said to me when I was growing up.  Maybe it offended my gramatical sensibilities or something but there 'ye' go !  I didn't like it.  It wasn't said much by the locals in my part of Ulster which just shows how there can be different words and phrases even within a small area like N. Ireland.

Now that's it's back in my mind again, I may try it out here in the park to see what reaction I get.  Probably confusion.

"What about what ? ", I'll be asked.  Understandably.

You see it makes perfect sence to me as I've grown up with it but for anyone else, it's a phrase that baffles.

Ohhhh now I can't wait to try it out !! 

Have a nice day.

Off To A Good Start.

Today was the last day of Springfest in the park and we had a lovely chili fest in the picnic grove down by the lake. It was 83.5F even in the shade so maybe chili wasn't the best food to be eating.....but it was still good and several hundred turned up for the occasion.

This morning saw the start of Daylight Saving Time  - the UK version, British Summer Time starts in 3 weeks which considering it snowed in Leeds, is a bit of a laugh really.  But here in sunny Buttonwood Bay it was another glorious day and due to the clocks going forward, we had sunset around 7:30pm.

To walk off our supper, Deb and I went for a stroll down to the lake to watch the sunset and it was nice to see dozens of like minded residents doing the same thing.  Well ok most were in their golf carts but remember this is a retirement community where one of the men raised his hand the other night when the band leader was counting the years backwards to see when people graduated from high school......and Al raised his hand when the year got to 1931 !!

So as I'd the Nikon in my pocket, here is a snap I took a few minutes ago.  

I'm really going to miss this place.

UWOTD

Considering the fine honed athlete that I am today, even I find it hard to believe that I hated anything to do with gym classes or PE as we called it back in my school days.  Actually I think in Ulster we called it PT (Physical Training or more likely Physical Torture) just to be different from the rest of the world.

When I passed my 11+ exams and thus made it to boarding school, my parents were given a long list of the items they had to buy to equip me for life as a boarder. Of course, once I got to school, most of these items became the property of the thieving, bullying 6th formers who looked forward to new boys starting at the school.  I think they took the idea of relieving us plebs of our belongings as some sort of rite of passage - the passage being from us to them of course.  

One item they didn't bother with were our gym shoes or trainers or sneekers or plimsolls or whatever you'd like to call the footwear we had for PE/PT.   In those simpler days, we had no designer footwear from the likes of Mr. Nike or Mr. Air Jordan.  I'm not even sure if leather had been invented !

So we wore strange little black shoes with absolutely no support at all and if you stood on a penny, you could tell if it was heads or tails.  We might as well have painted our feet black. 

And what did we call these shoes that were more like slippers for all the good they did us ?

Gutties :  PE/gym shoes.

Woe betide those who went to PE without their gutties as they had to spend the period/lesson running around in their bare feet as, for some reason, we didn't have white sports socks either. It was either bare feet or gutties.

Where was Mr. Jordan when I needed him ?

Start 'Em Young.

Being a firm believer in the idea that it's never too early to teach kids to be helpful around the house, here is an idea from those wonderful people East of Europe (bit general I know but it solves a lot of guessing problems).

I recently added a 'cool gadgets' site to my Google Reader list and although the particular 'gadget' highlighted today strains the limits of the word, it still manages to be new, useful and very funny.  Maybe not intentionally funny, but funny none the less.

So without further ado, here, for new mums and homeowners everywhere, let me present the most practical development since a husband, a baby mop.


Is it just me or does it look like, in the first image, the parent is actually pushing the baby face down onto the floor to start the polishing procedure ?  

"Ok Koyto Jr, time to earn your keep.  Down you go and no slacking till I can see my face in that floor."

Anyway, all you need now is a clasp to connect the baby to the end of the dog lead and with enough calling of the dog, you'll have your wooden floor polished like new in no time.

Looking at the images above, I think some mittens may be needed to prevent blistered hands. Try explaining that down at your local ER department. You'd not want to be accused of cruel exploitation after all.

Perish the thought.

UWOTD

The word today, or rather two words, were used a lot in my childhood but once again, may not be unique to Ulster.  And please read the description quickly in case you've gone off thinking Silverback has gone all crude on us.....again !   It's just YOUR minds and not mine.

Glory Hole : a cupboard or space in the house that could contain just about anything.

So many missing items in our house were to be found in the glory hole that I often wondered why we just didn't check there before declaring them missing in the first place.  The order should have been : check the glory hole, declare the item officially missing and only then say a prayer to St. Anthony, the patron saint of missing/lost items.  

Boy was that poor saint ever stuck with a lousy job.  I think the 'powers that be' realised his job was becoming untenable some years ago and he was relieved of his duties by some Pope or other.  Lost items just have to remain lost these days as St. Anthony has been retrained and was last heard of looking for work outside a McDonalds in Mexico City.

I honestly can't remember exactly where our glory hole was. No it wasn't lost, smarty pants.  I just can't remember if it was the full sized closet in the living room that housed the water heater, or if it was the cupboard near the staircase that housed the electric meter and where we hung our coats and jackets or if it was the airing cupboard upstairs, across from my bedroom. 

Having three glory holes wouldn't have helped the search process so I'm sure there was only one. But the point is, every home had one and it was always full of useful junk, stuff that couldn't possibly be thrown out and yet stuff that only saw the light of day when it was deemed to be missing.  

"Where's that old pair of scissors we use for cutting frayed carpets ?"    Glory hole.

"Has anyone seen my scarf from Aunt Doris that makes me sick when I wear it ?"  Glory hole.

"Where's Ian, the wee dote ?"  Glory hole.

Ok I just made that last one up.  I never ventured into the glory hole as a child.  It was a scary place remember, full of vomit inducing scarves and sharp objects.  

No, if I ever went missing, you could always find me at the local picture house, sitting through two showings of the latest Hollywood blockbuster.  

And enjoying a slider !!