Just another day . . .

The bridge down the hill. You can see how much the river has dropped since Sunday. I mentioned in my comments to this thread, that the year before we arrived here in Wales, a terrific spate had carried fallen logs and trees down which had got caught up on the middle stanchion of the bridge and resulted in the water being forced up and OVER the bridge. Nearby houses were flooded to a depth of four feet and our neighbour couldn't move back home for over 6 months, until the damage to her house had been put right.


It has come on to rain steadily this evening, so no moon to be seen, Atkinson Grimshaw or otherwise. We managed a walk up the valley this afternoon.

Close-up of bubbles in the little feeder-stream which gushes into the river at the bottom of the hill.


Colours were looking very demure and tweedy under an overcast sky.

Unfortunately, our arrival home coincided with the early beauty parade of cattle coming down for milking. . . .

Here are some recent upholstery projects:

An old swivel office chair which has gone into auction now.

My re-covered Victorian footstool (and yes, I did manage to get the pattern upside-down and not central. Dolt!)
This is the current one (which is my husband's chair, and was pretty beat-up when we bought it). All the springs were shot and the bar across the back had broken , so now I have it stripped down, that was one job we could fix today, and in place of the broken dowels, my husband has put four BIG screws.



As you can see, Snowy thinks it is in the kitchen purely as his new bed . . .


Down the back of it I found a half sheet of the Daily Express dating from 22nd August 1939. Sadly, the bits that were remaining weren't terrifically interesting - advertisements for Steradent powder, Radio Rentals advertising the latest (1940 designs) of Consoles, Radiograms and All-wave sets from the amazingly low rental of 1/9d (reducing to 10d). Phone Royal 2585 (the address was Regent Street, London).

A little piece entitled: Boy, cakes, POP, PAIN (The story was told at Ilfracombe (Devon) Juvenile Court, yesterday, of a -

BOY of ten who took 3s from purses at his home, treated his school pals to

CAKES (a large number of which he ate himself) and to ginger

POP (a large quantity of which he drank himself); and then had such a

PAIN in his tummy that he did not go home to dinner or back to school

- and the magistrates bound him over on condition that he goes to bed at eight every night for two years. (!!!)


The paragraph which fortunately survived was this one:

"This period, neither peace nor war, through which we are passing, has many of the attributes of war on a world scale. Certain it is that the magnitude of the preparations, the immensity of the cost and the universality of the effort compares with conditions prevailing in 1915-1917."

And they were right weren't they?