What a marvelous combination they make... This morning, I was determined to repair (somehow) the broken plastic fittings on three of my vertical blind's strips. They'd taken a bashing whenever the patio door was opened on a windy day, not to mention when visitors crashed into them when their nearby chair collided, thanks to it's five wheeled base and a less than gentle sitter-downer-person.
I knew I had a some wire left over from the days when I made mobiles, and I even remembered where to look for it...
But after experimenting, the wires turned out to be too hefty for the delicate twiddling I was attempting to perform...
So, back to the Thinking Cap. Instead of 'mobiles', I substituted the idea 'silk flower making'. This delightful craft I dabbled with for quite some time, and it's left me with multifarious 'come in handy' bits and bobs.
One such was a pack of fifteen inch, delicate wires, which had been too fine for most flower stems, but I realised, a little late, would be perfect for the job I had in mind... and I had only to reach across my desk for them. They were right in front of me, tucked into a bamboo pen-pot currently in use for anything but pens!
In next to no time, the 'chain-link' plastic loops were scooped up from their recumbent position on the carpet and reinstated to restore the blind to full working order.
When I tell you the price tag on the label of the packet announced 'Streets, 91p', if you happened to live in Havant, you'd realise I'd been hoarding them for at least six years, for Streets Ironmongers had closed its doors for good by 2011.
What? Me? A hoarder? Get along with you... Hahaha
...ponderings from the pen of a poet, via the heart of a human, often touched by the wicked sense of humour of an observer of oddities...
Sunday, 30 April 2017
Sunday, 16 April 2017
Eggs, anyone?
Here is KP 'hatching' a few Easter Treats... but as that happened in New Zealand, I don't expect many Bloggers will get a taste of one!
Saturday, 15 April 2017
All's well that ends well...
...that's the kind of day it's been here. At the start, I discovered that several of my posts from way back in 2010, had been targeted by an 'alien invader' who left a multitude of annoying, unreadable comments. Presumably, he was hoping I'd not notice him - but I did, and consigned him to the black hole of Blogger's "Delete-void-button", as he deserved.
But enough of that. Let's get back to Piglet, or rather, another piglet. This one belongs to Dr Ftse, and he likes to show off his culinary skills. So with no further ado, I present MacP helping the good Doctor to make an apple crumble...
I hear the finished dish was well received by all...
But Mac P decided to go for the healthier option of a grape or two, more in keeping with his svelte form.
But enough of that. Let's get back to Piglet, or rather, another piglet. This one belongs to Dr Ftse, and he likes to show off his culinary skills. So with no further ado, I present MacP helping the good Doctor to make an apple crumble...
I hear the finished dish was well received by all...
But Mac P decided to go for the healthier option of a grape or two, more in keeping with his svelte form.
Monday, 20 March 2017
History in the making...
Dr Ftse and British Piglet (BritPig for short) have been getting aquainted! And thanks to the wizardry of mobile phones, I've managed to catch the moment for posterity. The fact that it took an inordinate amount of time for me to work out how to get the image from my iPhone to this page of Napple Notes, is quite another story...
My recent acquisition of No:1 daughter's old iPhone4, has propelled me into the world of Whatsapp, and is forcing my brain into top gear as I struggle to understand its quirks, whilst appreciating its potential.
With a growing clan of Jinksy relatives in New Zealand, Whatsapp is an ideal link-line. But within the past week or so BritPig had the temerity to ask whether he could join the party which the Jinksy Clans were holding, and he sent them this Picture of Introduction...
As you can see, BritPig has an inquiring mind and a penchant for unusual friends, like this recently hatched dragon's egg youngling. While Dr Ftse is in no way a recently hatched anything, BritPig felt the need to get a better view of his whiskers and was even brave enough to hold out the hand of friendship, once he realised that a Ftse is not as scary as a Heffalump...
Monday, 9 January 2017
New thoughts on old subjects, perhaps....
Yes, I know there has been a gap of monumental proportions, while the World of Jinksy spun on in its accustomed, every decreasing circles, but here I am, pounding the keys again. I've spent the afternoon scribbling away, thanks to something that caught my eye as I watched an episode of an Australian drama - 'A Place To Call Home'...
Sometimes the tiniest thing can spur one into action. Maybe 2017 will be a year when I get spurred more often, who knows?! Anyhow, may all my Blogpals have a good year ahead of them :-) ♥
Mimosa
Flowers in a vase, briefly shown on screen
during some old television drama,
catapult Gran's image into focus...
She once told me they were her favourites.
I see again her thin, grey hair, drawn back
in a tight knot, pinned with difficulty
by arthritic fingers shaped by hard work,
her left, ring-finger permanently bent.
I experience a tight knot of loss
as present tears blur my vision of then,
while the warm, dusky scent of mimosa
spirals its fragrant ghosts in my nostrils.
Sometimes the tiniest thing can spur one into action. Maybe 2017 will be a year when I get spurred more often, who knows?! Anyhow, may all my Blogpals have a good year ahead of them :-) ♥
Mimosa
Flowers in a vase, briefly shown on screen
during some old television drama,
catapult Gran's image into focus...
She once told me they were her favourites.
I see again her thin, grey hair, drawn back
in a tight knot, pinned with difficulty
by arthritic fingers shaped by hard work,
her left, ring-finger permanently bent.
I experience a tight knot of loss
as present tears blur my vision of then,
while the warm, dusky scent of mimosa
spirals its fragrant ghosts in my nostrils.
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