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Archive for the ‘Fun’ Category

The Vicar bought some chimney brushes last year. We’ve found it a very cost-effective way of  ensuring that we don’t fill the living room with smoke too much. I think the set cost about £30, which is already less than we’d pay to get a sweep in. Our chimneys are quite easy to sweep as everything is contained in the woodburning stove box when it descends, although the house is three storeys, so we had to get extra rods to reach the top. Everything keeps clean as long as black bin liners are judiciously applied. Here’s the happy Vicar in his sweeping kit, displaying some of the soot, which shows up very nicely on his peely-wally Scottish hands:

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Just caught this on YouTube and although I’m sure tons of folk have already seen it, thought I’d share in case you hadn’t…

Wish my Vicar could rap like this!

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The Vicarage is cold. My feet are numb as I type this at lunchtime as bright Autumn sunshine streams through the windows but fails to warm anything in the house. I have many different techniques for keeping warm – lighting the woodburning stoves, feather lined slippers (not currently on my feet – hence the chilly toes) and gilets amongst them. But the daily essential (even in the summer, I’m sad to say) is a scarf.

The other day I caught this video which gives 25 different options for tying a scarf. I hadn’t realised there were so many. I think I wear a variation on the Basic Loop. How about you?

[HT India Knight]

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It’s been a bit stressy here in the Vicarage the past couple of weeks and I’ve struggled to get my head into gear to write a blog post. I miss it though, so I’m easing my way back in by skiving and posting this piece of kinetic typography. Lecrae is the Vicar’s new favourite Christian artist. Rap’s not so much my thing but I love this version – where I can keep up with the words.

Alas, most of the Lecrae kinetic typography I could find on YouTube had even more spelling errors and I couldn’t quite bring myself to post them.

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So now we’re all back to school and back to the realities of the parish after a great summer break. I’m glad that today the Vicar dragged me up into the tow-un to run some errands. On the way we passed our open air market, where you can buy cheap fruit, mobile phone accessories, underwear, overalls and all sorts of clothing. Everything on the market is pleasingly good value. We bought the Queen a gorgeous deep pink furry fleecy throw for her bed there. She adores it and sleeps under it in preference to her duvet.

The jumper stall is my absolute favourite, though. He sells a random selection of very end-of-line (but still brand new) knitwear, from shops I’d buy from anyway. Over the last couple of years I have bought (or been given) three excellently warming long cardies for Vicarage wear from the market. And today we had a great jumper day, stocking up for the Vicarage winter. The Vicar acquired three M&S v-necks (including a gorgeously toasty lambswool one) and I bought a Next jumper dress and a Monsoon angora/wool mix cardie. Total bill £17. Result. Sometimes I can be cheered up by pretty shallow things…

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What do you think about as you return from your holidays? As we drove away from the Channel Tunnel, heading back to the Vicarage, last week I was remembering (as always) a poem by Laurie Lee that I learnt by heart when I was at school:

Home From Abroad

Far-fetched with tales of other worlds and ways,
My skin well-oiled with wines of the Levant,
I set my face into a filial smile
To greet the pale, domestic kiss of Kent.

But shall I never learn? That gawky girl,
Recalled so primly in my foreign thoughts,
Becomes again the green-haired queen of love
Whose wanton form dilates as it delights.

Her rolling tidal landscape floods the eye
And drowns Chianti in a dusky stream;
he flower-flecked grasses swim with simple horses,
The hedges choke with roses fat as cream.

So do I breathe the hayblown airs of home,
And watch the sea-green elms drip birds and shadows,
And as the twilight nets the plunging sun
My heart’s keel slides to rest among the meadows.

Kent was certainly beautiful to look at. Our front drive not so much… (and more on this tomorrow too).

Rocky tells us this was originally left blocking the drive

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The Reading Rule

Last month the Vicar and I spent some Nectar points on a garden swing. Sitting on it is incredibly relaxing but we had to make some rules about usage by children as we anticipated that over-vigorous swinging might ensue.

So the rule is:

You can only sit on the swing seat IF YOU ARE READING

This is working very well. I occasionally break the rule myself, but as it’s my rule I think that’s okay. Sometimes I just sit there with the Vicar or a friend and talk. But today the kids were on the swing, obeying the rule, which I found very heartening:

Reading (from L to R) Dr Who, Roald Dahl and Harry Potter

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There’s been more stuff nicked from the Vicarage garden this weekend. I think this is worse than the coping stones – it was done right before my eyes outside the kitchen window. I was so outraged I took a photo…

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Not that I'm advocating heavy alcohol consumption or anything...

Sundays in the Vicarage can be rather busy and stressful. This Sunday was no exception, as you’ll know if you follow me on Twitter. I thought I’d share a picture of the Vicar helping me (and some lovely visitors) to cope before we ate lunch.

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Well, a small one, anyway. Last year we bought some very cheap strawberry plants and stuck them in a flower bed where they failed to produce anything edible. This year, however, they have given us some sweet strawberries – a whole (small) bowlful. And we’ve been able to pick them at peak ripeness. Delicious. Please excuse the shocking lack of focus in the picture. The one I took using the flash made the strawberries look purple.

We also have some small and very sour cherries, about five radishes, a handful of gooseberries, some spindly rhubarb and some snail-chewed bok choi. And there will definitely be potatoes. It’s better than last year, and if our gardening continues to improve at this rate I reckon that we might have a good harvest by the time the Engineer leaves home (he’s six btw).

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