Escape to the Country

I am a great fan of "Escape to the Country", the programme which tries to find a country dwelling for "townies" who want to have a life change. Lately , however, I have to say that the words "which planet are you living on" and "how much!!!!" are never far from my lips as I watch the endless list of must haves to be included in a country property.

1) A Boot Room - I know, I know, use the bloomin' hall like everybody else

2) A Hobby Room - for some reason people seem to think that they need a separate room to read or do a crossword or a wee bit of painting. For goodness sake people, have you never heard of the dining room table? My family have to eat their meals on trays on their laps for the week it usually takes me to do a 1000 piece jigsaw puzzle and I don't hear them complaining.

3) A Snug - for goodness sake you are not a character in a Dickens novel!

4) A Paddock - this is my all time favourite and results in shouts of derision when it comes up. Remember we are talking about , usually a couple who are going to be commuting approximately 2 hours a day to work and who have never lived outside the confines of suburbia and suddenly they cannot live without a paddock. Unless you happen to breed Clydesdales or plan holding gymkhanas every other week, why in God's name would you need a paddock?

5)Land - you would think that moving to the country you would have plenty of open space around you , after all is that not what the countryside is? But, oh no, these morons want their own land and we are not talking about a nice sized garden with a few flower beds and a wee veggie patch (another absolute must have!) We are talking acres, often 9 or 10 of them.

And finally, having had the programme scour the area of a particular county, say Somerset, where these people had decided that they wanted to live , they then drop the bombshell "Yes, we still want to move to the country but we have decided to look in Aberdeenshire instead". Where do they find these people???

Tesco £1.99 - Nature free

I have been enjoying a crop of blackberries which I found round the back of the Charity Shop where I help out. They have been large, juicy berries , ripe and full of goodness (or antioxidants as they are now called - I prefer "goodness")
I have sometimes felt like some mad old forager when I have been picking away as the bushes are in the car park of the adjacent hotel although one woman did come up and ask what I was picking and if they were "safe to eat?"

She seemed quite interested in doing the same but her husband said to her "You can get them in Tesco" .

Nice to see that the age of irony is still with us.

The Pope and North Gyle residents...

So the Pope has landed then and on Princes Street there seems to be a decent if not exactly "unable to move" crowd.
Slightly different this morning as he passed along the bottom of my road on his way from the airport. We residents of North Gyle Road are not known for our outward expression of cheering - if there was a street party I think most people would be saying "oh I am off to Dobbies that day".

However, I did wander down , mainly because I was on my way to Tesco and I knew I would be able to get across the Glasgow Road - no mean feat I can tell you. There were a small gaggle of us and a twelve year old policeman who was having to explain to the old lady who lives on the other side of the Glasgow Road that she couldn't get across the road as "the Pope was coming". Despite her protestations that she could be across the road before he came and when exactly would he be passing, he stood firm. I tell you reader, so insistent was she on the exact passing time of the Holy Father that I was beginning to look at her a bit suspiciously!!

Anyway, there was a small (very small) ripple of anticipation as a phalanx (yep, English Literature degree!) of policemen swept along the road and then a procession of 2 silver cars with blacked out windows and lots of black cars drove past. Some of us waved half heartedly but the cars could have been empty for all you could see. He was probably having a doze inside or catching up with the weather in Rome on his i pad (pod???).

Watching the procession along Princes Street I feel cheated that the residents of North Gyle were not treated to the sight of the Mafia style bodyguards running alongside the cars in the style of Clint Eastwood in "The Line of Fire". Now that I think would have raised a cheer!

Strictly Speaking...

...we are still in British Summertime, an oxymoron if ever there was one, but there are signs that we will soon be sitting with the curtains drawn . Trees are putting on their winter coats, as are the rest of us and some of the shops are already stocking their Christmas cards - shame on you!!

But the surest sign of all that we are hurtling toward Christmas is the imminent return this weekend of Strictly Come Dancing, or Strictly as it has now become known (when did that happen? Are we too lazy to make sentences of three words anymore?) Every year I think I won't bother giving over every Saturday evening for the next 3 months to watch "celebrities" (and this year they are using the term very loosely!) but then I get hooked.

I do hope this year that they have had a word with grumpy Len, hyper- active Bruno and the grammar free zone that is known as Alesha Dixon but somehow I doubt it. It will be the same old, same old but that won't stop us eh Louise?? Get those fingers flexed.