Tag Archives: charity shops

A Day Off and the Last of the Fish Pie

I blogged a bit this morning and made some plans. Julia was due on a training course at 1.30 so it made for a short day.

After dropping her off for a two hour refresher on Safeguarding I went to find a charity shop that needed three bags of second-hand books and assorted rammel. I couldn’t find one, as everywhere was so busy there was nowhere to park.

I went home and read my post before I filled two more bags with paper, including a large amount of old business paperwork from 2004-6. They missed collecting our recycling bin last week because of the snow. I feel, as I continue filling it, that they will regret this decision when they have to remove a month’s accumulated paper clearing.

The letter from the anticoagulant clinic showed I was right at the top of the range, but [assed. I don’t need to go back for two weeks.

Then I collected Julia. As usual, the training was a waste of time, though it does allow the council to tick boxes. Don’t start me on the state of Safeguarding in the UK.

She helped me find a charity shop with parking outside. She also told me off for what I said to a bus driver who sounded his horn at me in an impatient manner as I took the bags out of the car. After all the time buses have spent holding me up over the years I think he could have waited thirty seconds for me.

He even made eye-contact as he went past, just to be more aggressive about it. If he was a lip-reader he would have found this an upsetting experience. Even if he wasn’t a lip reader he could probably still make out the few short, simple words I used.

Later we went shopping as the light faded, and were surprised at the volume of birdsong. Spring, I suspect, has arrived.

Then we returned home and ate Fish Pie. Julia topped it with sweet potato this time so we’ve had four different toppings in the last week – potato, potato and swede, potato and parsnip and sweet potato.

It’s not quite the lifestyle I envisaged for myself when I was young and ambitious.

 

Books, Blue John and Bakewell Pudding

I had a bad night last night, waking up in the early hours with a pain in the elbow. I couldn’t lie on my back and I couldn’t lie on my side, and, most irritatingly, I couldn’t work out what I’d done to cause the problem.

Eventually I dropped off, but I slept a disturbed sleep and kept dreaming about having a painful elbow. I’m not sure what this signifies in the lore of the meaning of dreams, but suspect it might mean I have a pain in the elbow.

Finally I got up and started preparing for the big day out. We had to drop a prescription off at the surgery first, then set off for Derbyshire. We’ve been a few times recently, but we like it, and we wanted to get out rather than frittering the day away. That’s what normally happens if we stay at home – a few errands here, a few chores there and suddenly the day has gone. I’m an expert at wasting time, so you can believe me on this subject.

We stopped on the way to take a few views, including the tower of the Crich Memorial.

 

Apart from being a memorial to the dead of the Sherwood Foresters, the hill has been the scene of Roman settlement, an Armada beacon and an 1813 steam locomotive experiment. Today the village of Crich houses a Tramway Museum.

In the years leading up to 2002, Rolls Royce used the quarry at the back of the hill for dumping low level radioactive waste. The words “low level” aren’t much comfort in this context.

Florence Nightingale lived in the village of Lea, which is round the back of the memorial, so it’s been quite a busy place in historical terms.

Our main visit was to Bakewell, where I photographed the padlock bridge again, toured charity shops (the Air Ambulance shop is probably the pick of the bunch – much better than the one at Carsington). I bought some interesting books, which will be reviewed later and we looked at traditional Derbyshire Blue John jewellery in shop windows. It seems to be making a comeback.

I found a rotting tree stump covered in fungus near the car park, a Julia-sized jumper in the Edinburgh Woollen Mill and a Bakewell Pudding in a tea room.

 

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Bakewell Pudding with ice cream. It didn’t need the ice cream, but they insisted.

The pudding was excellent.

I also took a few other photos, including on of a dog’s footprint in cement. I bet that was a popular dog.

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Dog’s footprint, immortalised in cement at Bakewell

After that we went home, photographing a sunset on the way and buying white gloss paint  for a project in the Mencap Garden.

Books, Books, Books…

I’m in the middle of sorting my books out. They aren’t necessarily the biggest problem in my life, but they are one that I can do something about. I don’t feel too bad about getting rid of books because they can go to friends, neighbours and charity shops.

Clothes can go to charity shops too, as can various other things, but I feel guilty about merely throwing things away. After years of keeping things “because they may come in useful”, I have a lot of useless junk, but keep hold of it because…well, you can guess.

Some of it is actually second and third hand, having been passed on to me by my father and grandfather. If you ever need a tester for thermionic valves or a magnifier for a 1950s TV screen I have one. (My grandfather was part of group that built their own TV sets in 1953 in time for the Coronation, in case you were wondering.) On the other hand, if you want stationery in pre-decimal sizes, my father has provided me with a large selection.

However, back to books.Do you know how many words there are to describe conditions related to books?

Try these.

Bibliophilia – love of books

Bibliomania – accumulating books, including multiple copies, books of no collectable or financial value and numbers of books far beyond the collector’s capacity to read them.

Bibliophagy – book eating

Bibliokleptomania – compulsive book theft

Bibliotaphy – book burying

My favourite is a word my sister recently emailed me, with the words “I think this applies to us.”

Tsundoku, a Japanese word meaning the state of buying books and storing them without reading them.

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So many books, so little time

I hold my hands up to bibliophilia, bibliomania and tsundoku.

I’m even considering Bibliophagy, on the grounds that books are high in fibre and low on digestible calories.

If you put them through the shredder a book has to be at lest as tasty as the spiralised butternut squash “noodles” we had last week.