It being half term, after I dropped Fester off at The Farm to do some fieldwork, I took the boys to Hexham for the rest of the morning until it was time to pick him up again. After getting parked we visited the Tourist Information and then headed towards the railway station.

I made it onto the zebra crossing but coming off the other side tripped on the kerb and went face first onto the asphalt pavement. I'm not sure why my hands didn't get out quick enough to stop me but they are entirely unmarked. My right knee is fairly grazed but the left side of my face is quite a picture. Fortunately neither nose nor teeth were broken so it looks worse than it is.

Yesterday evening Tyne Bridge Morris practiced in preparation for our first dance out of the season at the Breast Cancer Care 5 Mile Challenge in Exhibition Park this Sunday. We ran through all the dances we thought we might be able to do, in the positions we are most likely to be doing them on Sunday. Afterwards we had a chat about what time we needed to meet, and where, and future bookings. As Bagman it's my responsibility to let people know about potential bookings and make a note of who can and can't come. So that at some point we can decide whether to accept a booking - or not.

"It's looks like it's just thee and me for dancing at dawn on May Day" I commented to Mrs Recorder....

As promised in my last blog Wednesday and Thursday morning found me collecting for Marie Curie Cancer Care. As soon as I'd seen the boys off to school, and Fester off on his annual water beetlers' dinner at the Royal Entomological Society in London, I went into town and presented myself at Brunswick Methodist Church.
I was given a tray of daffodils, a collecting tin, a daffodil yellow tabard and an, optional, daffodil yellow foam top hat. It was a chilly day so I opted for the hat and as a result looked like a particularly vibrant Diddy-man as I made my way up to the top of Northumberland Street ...

Tomorrow and Thursday mornings will find me in Newcastle city centre collecting for Marie Curie Cancer Care. Here is the reason why ...

My last blog brought back some childhood memories.

When I was a child teabags were considered a "nasty American habit" and were never seen in British (or at least Welsh) shops. They began to creep in during the late 1960s/early 1970s supported by huge advertising campaigns. Anyone remember "two thousand perforations in every bag let the flavour flood out"? These educational ads were required because most housewives knew that tealeaves have to float around and infuse in the boiling water to brew. People were also highly sceptical about the amount of tea in each bag so there were ads where the bag was cut open and the contents poured onto an overflowing teaspoon: "a generous spoonful of leaves in every bag."

I prefer loose tea: not just because it is more environmentally friendly, but also because I find teabags too strong for one cup.. Last weekend, using my mother's old large pot, I made three cups of tea from one bag. Which means teabags are a great way of making people buy more tea than they actually need. As I also feel tea that is not brewed in a pot is an anathema I have my own little individual teapot, a caddy full of Glengettie ("Wales' favourite flavour") and a metal tea-strainer and bowl. So when I want just one cup that's all I make.

Last Saturday some of us attended a ceilidh in memory of Alex West, a friend lost to cancer a few years ago. It was heartening to see so many young people there all eager to dance. Their eagerness far outweighed their expertise, especially after some drink had been taken, and the caller had his work cut out getting them in position and following instructions.
"Now I want couples facing couples in a big circle right around the floor. That's couple facing couple. Four of you. Big circle around the room one couple facing another.
The man has his lass on his right hand side. On his right hand. On his right.
Lasses you have your lad on your left hand.
Now then, if the man is on the inside of the circle you're a first couple, and if he's on the outside you're a second couple. If the man is on the inside ..."
Drummerman leant over and said with a mischievous grin
"Or if the man is on the inside?."
Before he could go any further I finished it with
"Then it isn't raining."
There was a second's silence, followed by a guffaw of laughter and a
"Well done Brenda - you found a clean alternative."

Regular and long standing readers of this blog will know that I am the widow of Phil Ranson, local musician and librarian. He left a large eclectic collection of LPs and CDs, some of which were sold immediately after his funeral in 1992 for Cancer Research. A good four linear feet of albums came home though and have sat on the shelf ever since. Having found a home for Phil's dulcimer last summer I've been having another sort out. The other day I found some singles (45rpm and a 78) and took them down to Steel Wheels more in curiosity than expectation. Mr Steel Wheels found them quite interesting and gave me a fiver for two of them.
"If only he had some vinyl LPs as well" he sighed whistfully.
"Oh he did, I do" I said "Some four foot of them. Would you like to come and have a look?"
"Would I? Would Thursday afternoon be ok?"

A couple of days ago Fester came to Lidl with me. On my own I progress in a systematic and stately manner up and down the aisles picking up what I need when I see it. He has to rush across the cross aisles when ever anything catches his eye.
Today it was bananas ...

This story contains references to what can be delicately described as the "lady-garden", so perhaps the more squeamish gentlemen and ladies amongst you may wish to read no further.

Yesterday I went to my GP for my regular coil check and whilst I was there mentioned a little niggling problem I was having "down below" which might be nothing but might need looking into.....