A furore, an uproar, or, a diaphanous truth? Judy Murray, yes, that one, mum of Scottish tennis players Andy and Jamie Murray, was out shopping on the other side of the Scottish border. I don’t know exactly where, but it was certainly well south somewhere in the shire of England

Judy Murray tendered a Scottish £10 note in payment for her purchase. The note was refused with the explanation that only British notes were accepted! Nice one……So much for the political crie de coeur about this sceptered isle being united.

Scottish bank notes do have a national developmental history. In addition, their ‘differences’ are indicated by the name of the bank that has issued them and designs they depict. However, they are legal tender. The English notes are similarly individualised. At the risk of being seen as partial here, and I assure you, I am not, I have never had a English bank note refused anywhere in Scotland for payment of services or goods. Even the banks in Scotland will disburse English bank notes as well as Scottish ones. I have though, had Scottish bank notes refused in England.

There is a parliamentarian trying to smooth out the ‘ethnic’ spending differences that have now been well publicised, which, arise when the Scots grace the shire of England with their presence and their money.


It arrived! The waited for the surgical consultation appointment. The patient arrived at the allocated time and was seen on time.

She entered the room and following brief introductions, the patient sat down. The consultant leaned in towards her face, asking rhetorically;

Him-“You have something wrong with your eyebrow?”

The patient involuntarily moved her head back…puzzled.

The consultant repeated, this time authoritatively, “You have a problem with your eyebrow“.

Her- “No“, the patient said, equally as authoritatively,I do not“.

Him -“Yes you do“.

Her- “No, I do not have a problem with my eyebrow“.

The two people looked warily at each other for a moment. The patient then rolled up the sleeve of her right arm.  “I have a problem with my elbow“.

The consultant slumped back in his seat, momentarily, confused. He then studied the exposed arm and asked some relevant questions about what he saw.

Him -“Would you please show me your other arm“, he requested. He then compared the two elbows agreeing there was a difference. He sifted through the file of papers in front of him. “Why were you referred to me?”

Her -“Excuse me, but what is your specialty?”

Him- “I am a skin and bowel surgeon

Her- “Not Orthopaedic!








The sat nave is plugged into my computer not only taking charge, but also making a meal of updating itself.  One hour and twelve minutes according to the magic timer, long enough to gulp a re-energising first and second course electrical feed.


So, here I am pondering.  A bit of plugging in to an energising surge would do me the world of good too. 

P1030465 light sticks

This morning I ‘mislaid’ a towel which was placed near the washing machine to remind me to add it to the wash load. When the time came, I just couldn’t find it.  The wash load was done minus the towel.  I discovered it some time later.  It was wrapped round a freezer pack which had been easing a sore point on my back!! 


My excuse…..yes I do have one; this was the morning after the night before: this morning in particular, was too early to be awake thinking about anything. I was even too tired to expend energy being grumpy.  Why?  You might well ask.  Twice during the  night I was was abruptly disturbed out of my slumbers.


* “Golden slumbers kiss your eyes, smiles awake you when  you rise….”  Oh, were it true.*(Brahms Lullaby)

Just Checked the satnav update progress. It looks like it’s charging up for an all night session.  The progress bar has regressively jumped from forty minutes to fifty minutes…..zzzzzz.



Certainly unexpected, but, as I was only the messenger, I put the originator into the line of fire, so-to-speak. As the recipients were out, a gift of two  cheese truckles were left by the originator for the recipients to find upon their return home. The cheeses were bought at a specialist counter, a rather special one at that too. The originator was not one to shop at the best of times.

Recipient 1. I found some cheeses here, were there a lot lying around the house.…….

Me. What?……… I will pass you on.

I repeat what has been said. Originator’s expression changes from bemusement to realisation, to irritation.


The door of the coffee shop burst open.  A little girl who was chatting very loudly rushed in and was closely followed by several other children of a similar size.  The parents were hurrying to keep up with their exuberant little ones. Nursery school must have finished for the day.   The little girl grabbed a good seat for herself at a long table that was big enough to take the whole party.  As she settled herself in place, the little girl announced with a flourish…” I have reached my destiny”. 

smile emoticon kolobok

I reckon I could make a really good guess as to which satnav her family use.






I drove into town to meet hubby.  We had a coffee and tested our wits with the day’s newspaper nonogram, which had an odd set of letters to play with. We managed a score of 17 words against the 34 the newspaper said they got.

Jauntily walking home hand-in-hand with hubby in the crisp bright day, he turned to me and said, just as we neared our street,

I think I’ll  get the hose out and wash the car“.

I stopped in my tracks…. I forgot the car! ***!!!**&&**!!   I left it parked in the town…..

Guess who walked back to retrieve it…..well, it was a nice day and I told myself the extra walk was good for me; and so it was.


nice car

nice vintage car….not mine


Courtesy Of Photobucket 


Frustration is so damn tiring; I don’t recommend it. It all started when on a  really long journey I discovered my satnav had “no maps to display”.   Fortunately for us, there was daylight, which helped us see our way as we limped to our first off- the -beaten track destination with the help of a small silent screen of a phone.


Soon, we saw it was impossible to do everything we planned without the satnav and its lost maps. There was nothing for it but to grudgingly buy another one, but, it had to be the  most suitable and cheapest. At least we were somewhere where we had choices, a bit of a silver lining, I suppose.

Back home again, I discovered that the company would have allowed a branch of the retailer from whom we bought the satnav, to take it back, given the circumstances, BUT, (there’s always a but) within fourteen days. This was lunchtime on day thirteen and I was not about to dash 240 miles round trip to take advantage of the offer.


After a bit more conversation  with the company operative and ‘checking with my supervisor‘ the operative gave me a one-time offer of complete lifetime updates on this satnav model. Wasn’t that nice. He also helped me restore maps to my original  satnav.

Another BUT. To take advantage of lifetime updates, which I already had with the older device, I had to use a different email address. Two into one url just does not work.

I have spent so much time trying to sort out why logins did not work; why registration of the new machine did not succeed. Email instructions just did not cut the mustard. I phoned the customer line.

How was I supposed to know that you did not login via either of the addresses, in the way I always did, when I only had one satnav.


I searched high and low for two weeks for a favoured beret.  The local well kept public toilets was the place I believed I had mislaid it, if not there, then the church where the walkers I stomp around with, partook of their refreshment, (including home-made cake). 

Friends checked the church after their Sunday service, to no avail.  The nice guy I saw at the council enquiry desk said they could contact the people who clean the public W.C’s.  It’s a contracted out service.  I trudged around all the shops I remembered at some point in recent time visiting. The lady in the cafe searched in her store cupboard; I also looked through all my shopping bags,  my coat pockets, and checked to see if my beret was tucked inside any other hat.

Then, when my very old dark blue fleece got an airing. I was puzzled by a bit of padding on the left side.  There was nothing in the pocket.  Oh! brainwave…quickly unzipping the fleece, I probed around in an lining pocket, pulled out to the light a bunched up soft wadge. YAY!!!!!!! my beret. The embarrassing thing is, I just do not remember when I last wore the old blue fleece.  Beret and that fleece just do not connect up, no wonder I didn’t find it.

Now, I must tell all those kind people who went searching for my hat that it has turned up. 


On Wednesday 15th July: with the local walk for health group, we walked at a reasonable pace – not too fast – for about three miles around the town.  The walkers always finish with a sociable get-together with hospitality provided by one of the local churches.  If you need to use a toilet, there are new, well maintained public ones almost next door to the church.

You don’t expect to end up speaking French, a bit of German and Spanish,  do you, to a Canadian visitor in the washroom.  But there you go, that’s what happened… Scout motto ‘Be Prepared”!

Hasta La Vista!

On the 17th July, nearly all my Livingston Daisies were  wide open to the bright skies.  It is the very first time this summer season I have seen them openly smiling. It was one of our rare bright and mild days and that’s what probably clinched it for them.  They knew it was safe to open up.

A cheery sight

A cheery sight

The County Agricultural show ground had been approved for use on Saturday 18th July… Most days this week it had rained and sometimes it was torrential.  There was nowhere else that all the visiting traders, large agricultural machinery salespeople, woodland model makers, (very large models), the wood pulping, cutting, pellet-making machine demonstrations and other similar demonstrators could be catered for.  As we drove towards the show, we passed a lot of animal show traffic going the opposite way and earlier than usual. It was telling us something.

A Claggy Mire

A Claggy Mire

What a squidging, squelching, claggy mire confronted us. Wellies, knee high ones, were definitely the order of the day. In an instant my boots were gunged up with mud that you sank in.  It was  hippopotamus  heaven.

Gingerly Stepping In

Gingerly Stepping In

A Big Squelch

A Big Squelch

You had to be made of stern stuff to squelch through this.  It got tiring lifting feet held firmly by waves of mud. You could feel the pull on the boots.  This was no place for any kind of shoes.

No Place for This

No Place for This

A specialist mobile coffee seller goes to the shows: paying to go in to the ground just to have a wonderful cup of coffee is saying a lot, but it was soooo good.  It was hard going underfoot, very tiring pulling up feet and legs out of the sucking mire, you just could not move at any speed.  When I eventually returned to the coffee van for another cuppa, it was shutting up shop….Shame, but that’s life.

Show-Goers Coffee Treat

Show-Goers Coffee Treat

This picture was taken a couple of years ago on a perfect show day.  We do get them sometimes.    🙂