Sweet Jasmine, dripping from the neighbour's garden. Over the trees, in unruly fashion. No gardener, the neighbour, he lets it grow in wild profusion, to the annoyance of another neighbour, who leans over the fence to trim it back!
This member of the Fuchsia family flowers in wild disarray in our garden. No perfume. Just the bright splashes of colour. It was contained in a pot, but it has escaped, & established itself in the soil.
Standing in the kitchen, preparing a chicken loaf. No spring onions, so decide to go for the garlic onion option. Heat a little oil to saute the garlic & onion.
A slight popping noise. I turn to be confronted by a wild fire in a saucepan!
"Holy Moly, who knew that oil would go up like that? "
Grab the dishcloth, cover the flaming saucepan. Flames out. Make foolish mistake of taking cloth off again.
"Whoa! Here we go again!"
Rushing outside, taking cloth & fiery saucepan. Cover again. Crisis over.
Gom running into the kitchen to see what the commotion is about.
The smoke alarm didn't even go off! The house filled with smoke. Meggie's knees knocked a little.
"How lucky I was standing in the kitchen right next to the stove!"
It is not the first time I have had a blazing fire, with no fireplace. It is the first time I have ever had oil catch fire. Another time was in the oven, (no not the human oven) when a pie leaked & the centre burned on the bottom of the oven floor.
"*$%^&!" & other colourful words!
Yet another fire was in a hedge. Sitting about the kitchen drinking coffee with BFJ & Beloved Brother.
Those were the days when we were foolish smokers.
Flicking the butts out the open window.
Sudden sight of burning hedge!
Leaping about laughing & flinging saucepans of water out the kitchen window!
"Who would have thought a cigarette butt would light a hedge?"
Mother, not at all impressed, when she returned home, to find a gaping hole in the hedge.
"How did that happen?"
We lived in New Zealand. It was not prone to tinder like OZ.
Op Shopping Jaunt.
Op Shopping Jaunt.
Op shop has relocated to larger premises. Much more spacious, with 5 rooms, plus a kitchen for the Volunteer Staff, who man the shop.
There is a huge room, out the back where the electricals from the
Ark ancient kitchens are kept. Some crockery, cultery, slightly tatty toys, huge furniture items. A few odds & ends like fabric, craft magazines, old recipe books. Tired knitting needles, a few balls of yarn of doubtful origin.
The 'ladies' who sort &
get all the best stuff first display the donations, of all types have an area at the back. It is partially screened.
Voices floating over the wall.
"Well she has the nerve to be complaining"
"Is she just! Who does she think she is"
"Who is? Is it the one with the red hair?"
"How old is she?"
"I'll be having a word with her."
"She might be invited to leave."
It seems volunteers are just as b!tchy as paid staff!
Goodness, bickering in a Charity shop representing A Christian Organisation!
There is a very large cheery man, who may be 'challenged', 'organizing' some books. He has an old pram, which he is filling with the books from a large cupboard. He is not gentle with them.
I am tempted to say "Steady on!" but I bite my toungue.
In the book room, each wall is lined with bookcases. The books are rather well displayed too, with categories!
A shame about Mr Braying Ass, standing in the middle of the room, on his cell phone, acting as if the Book Room is his personal phone booth. Bellowing about how he has been in bed with the 'flu for a week.
"This is my first day up Mate!" "I tell you I am still Bloody Crook!"
I had been about to enter, but on hearing Mr Ass, I hastily retreat mentally castigating him for spreading his damn germs about a very confined space.
"Get home you fool" I mutter quietly.
I would have loved to say to him, "So, you have had the worst flu you can recall, & you just thought you would do the charitable thing, & bring it here to share with everyone, then?"
I wander through the clothing room, wondering about shirts for quilts. Perhaps not, they are not very attractive today. Some days they are all cheery & Hawiian. Or Cheerful Checks. But not today. I can still hear Mr Braying Ass roaring away & now, coughing! In that small room. Contaminating all the books! Over the head of a small child, who is quietly trying out all the children's books.
Finally Mr Braying Ass gets off his phone, & goes off out. Mr Largely Challenged charges into the book room with his pram, & begins flinging books about the floor!
Perhaps the book room can wait for another day.
On I move, into the room of 'Better Quality China, & Crystal, & Knick Knackery'.
"Ooh look at this. Myrtle used to have one of these."
"Yes I remember it. It is very ugly. What would you use if for?"
I sneak a look, to see what they are talking about. I see a 60s style segmented platter. I remember them at parties with horrible little saveloy things on sticks with bits of pineapple & gherkin, or cherries.
I remember seeing those things that had been on sticks, regurgitated on the path outside the parties later.
I have been looking for a salt & pepper set. We have several odd ones, where either salt or pepper has got broken. I find a nice brand-new-never-been-used set for $2. They are large, & with a bit of luck need only be filled about once every 6 months, as we are not huge salt users.
I move on out, with my quilting magazine, my fabrics, & my salt & pepper set. All mine for $4.
Gom waiting in the car, very derisory about the Salt & Pepper set. Now they have been washed & filled, & we are using them, he remarked at how nice they are. I just smiled, & said things to myself, in my head.
I really must make an effort to get onto some sewing!
When my friend V was here, she couldn't get over how much fabric I have collected. I assured her my stash is much smaller than many. She was staggered. She is a new quilter so she will no doubt learn, that too much is never enough!
Now where is that MOJO??
Neil Diamond, Cracklin Rose