Buzz-buzzbuzzbuzz-buzz-buzz.
Does this help? 
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I will coo like a turtledove, dear bee, fluffed up and fluttery with encouragement. Who you really need though is my long-ago ex, who is well up in Old Icelandic. Nu Icelandic isnât all that different, I am told. Good for you.
Icelanders are ime passionate about golf. Or maybe it was a self-selecting mad sample that used to take over a bar near us once upon a time in the 90s on their golfing holiday. All-night games (this would be back at home) are quite the thing in high summer and you take fewer bats (I understand that those in the know call them something else) and more bottles.
Sewin is quite another thing from traht.
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Thanks for the engouraginâ buzzinâ and cooinâ.
Iâll be making a new start, in the morn. Honestly - I find Icelandic densely difficult. Golf is not being encouraging.
Soo xx
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Well, good evening everyone
I have managed to stagger up the road for the local newspaper, checked the Oh Bitcheries to make sure that I am not amongst them & am, at last, able to Post here
Câmon, youâre supposed to be THRILLEDâŚ
Things Are Being Done to the water pipes on this road, so I have had a Little Digger outside for most of the day, digging 2 rather 'Normous & Very Deep holes
They both have an temporary covering & Iâm hoping that the work will be finished tomorrow
Carinthia.xx
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Oh, we are. Weâd be thrilleder, though, if you were feeling better than you are. Look to it, good girl.
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I honestly donât think the golf is compulsory - as I said, a self-selecting sample. I think slight madness (not in a bad way) is, though.
Gx
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I am always Thrilled to note improvements in the Carinthian Constitution, Dearest.
Little Diggers, mind you, can inflict the worst and longest lasting injuries to roads, ime.
Slight madness may need to be tempered, gus.
So: yesterday I was addressed as âyoung ladyâ by a ward sister (no upper case is required in this post). I have pondered upon this unwarranted form of address and have made a booking at the hairdresserâs for tomorrow. I shall discuss the grey.
Good nights, Cellarites,
So xx
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Am feeling better than I was. Haircut will have to wait until next week though. Donât want anyone messinâ wiv me 'ead ATM
Carinthia.xx
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Arenât you a senior ward sister or (whatever they call them these days) matron, Soo? Well, youâd scare me and in my totally uninformed opinion, that sister is a cheeky wee besom.
Oh, and Grey is Good. People pay good money to be dyed it, apparently. I am happy that since I stopped messing with my hair and then cut most of it off in a drunken fury, it is coming through a good light grey. So much cheaper.
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I hope you wished the Little Digger gâday, mate, all good?
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I imagine that your scalp will be very tender and that leaning back for the washing would be hard to bear, Carinthia.
Gus - I was a Senior Theatre Sista but travel incognito, these days. Itâs actually liberating to have left the shackles of my previous identity behind. I donât give out medical advice (out of date, apart from common sense) but maintain the ability to âpull rankâ when faced with idiocy.
Soo xx
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Aha! Well known for giving surgeons a good slap and a slice of tongue pie, band 6/7 theatre nurses.
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Coo (no not the turtleydovey one) Soo, I bet you can do that silent sort of swelling with a totally deadpan face that terrifies both wee probationers (they donât have them any more, do they? but you know what I mean) and overconfident surgeons into fits. Iâm quite scared, even from here.
Oh, and working below your rank (thatâs not graceful or quite right but it is concise) can be a right bugger. I thought it would be a good idea, once upon a time and it gets remarkably complicated. As I imagine you are finding.
And âcommon senseâ is a misnomer. I believe that observation has been made a few million times before, thoughâŚ
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I donât much mind rank, gus. Having reached the dizzy heights of Clinical Nurse Specialist (8) before DS was born (and then scuttling off with post natal depression) I returned to w#rk, as a staff nurse, in the private sector when he was 10 months old. A couple of years later, DD came along and I grafted my way up to a grade 7, before retiring due to a neck injury.
Soo xx
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Been down st the beach today peering through a lens at barnacles. (They are only a few mm wide.)
Telling one species from another looks easy on the diagrams. But in real life they are so battered by the sea that one of the critical features - how many plates in the shell and their shape - is obliterated. Darwin was fascinated by the f*****s. I need a few glasses.
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That is âglassesâ as opposed to âlensesâ, yes? Bottoms (unbarnacled) up, me dere.
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Depends where the sea trout comes from, and how they are doing. I grew up on west coast, then moved to the south east of England where the very muddy tidal river was full of them but they were almost white, and tasted of nothing. I am now back in ancestral waters, where they are full of flavour, but seriously endangered.
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Sea creatures love attention
Hence the pearl
Grit through damp passive mothers of invention
Decorates a girl
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Glasses of at least 40 proof.
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Farmed trout often is mud with bones. Trout pulled out of a beck in Northumberland and fried for breakfast ten minutes later is a different matter. One of my uncles had a beck in the back garden, and it had trout in itâŚ
Glad you are feeling well enough to stagger, Carinthia, but we want you well.
Is that original, Gus?
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