"They were, for the first time, the eyes of a man and not of a servant."

I'd like to offer a prize to the one who can name the author of this quote but I'm too broke. It's from Agatha Christie's 'The Listerdale Mystery.'

Autres temps, autres mœurs.

Change in the air.

My days as a bookseller are definitely numbered now. Daughter has the bit between her teeth and is organising stock supplies, new signs, new paintwork, new name... lots of debate on that one, 'Health Foods' just doesn't do it as she plans to stock massage cushions, memory foam cushions, those huge blow-up excercise balls, books (!) Runes stones etc. etc. We're coming down on the side of 'Balanced Living: Forres Health Store.' but questioning the use of 'Forres' because there's already a 'Forres Health Shop.' Varris or Varis is the name Ptolemy gave it 2,000 years ago (though I don't think he ever set eyes on it himself, just relied on Marinos of Tyre and other gazeteers of the Roman Empire. I think he was an armchair traveller.) Whatever the truth, not even many of the locals understand why so many businesses call themselves 'Varis Dubrimakers' so it doesn't seem to be a great choice.

The jury is still sitting.

Hobbit?

And here we have an Elijah Wood look-alike (almost)

Sandy Leylandii

I think he looks like a wood sprite. Shame the hair has to be shorn tomorrow.
This hedge in g'dad's garden is about 9' tall - I don't understand how he came to be on top.

Busy day.

Exciting day for this woman here. Lunch with the Rotary Club (daughter is now a member) in the nice traditional hotel restaurant up the road followed by the yearly 'flu jab in the Town Hall. The notable features of the first experience were the surprising number of toasts (I haven't been to anything that involves formal stand-up-for toasts for about 100 years) and the veritable sea of male faces all in one room, a very pleasant change, albeit a lot of them where liver-spotted. They seem a jolly enough lot, good at doing fun things to make contributions to charity. Last week there was a horse racing evening with filmed races, only sometimes they do it with human beings dressed up and a big floor mat and furry dice. Chloë looks to be the youngest member and gets made a lot of fuss of, which is as it should be! No leather aprons or rolled trouser-legs or slow-handclapping (I went to a Masonic Ladies Night once and was appalled because a slow hand-clap to me meant disapproval. It had to be explained...) There seems to be a constant need for bucket-shakers at charity events and Chloë has been persuaded to dress in a Pudsy costume sometime soon.She chose that over the bucket-shaking because she feels the cold and everyone assured her it's very warm inside Pudsey!

Notable feature of second experience - the sugared tea and biccies afterwards. I never eat biscuits these days because once I start I can't stop. Ate three shortbreads and then waddled home.

Personal Hygiene Please.

As a general rule I don't like peple who talk about 'The Great Unwashed' and anyway not many do these days, but I do seem to have had a few of TGUnW in the shop recently. The rain and chill must have brought them in. They aren't the down-and-outs, oh no. They include an elderly and rather leery old chap who takes pains to tell me every time he comes in of his previous career in banking (not something to shout about thse days one would have thought!) He name-drops heavily, names of individuals I'm supposed to recognise and impressive organisations he's had dealings with, but as he now lives on four pensions he can't it seems afford to buy my whole stock to add to his already considerable library although he would like to do so - blah blah ... Oh Yeah? I want to feel sorry for him because he is/was obviously intelligent and probably raised properly and is undoubted lonely, but I would prefer to be sorry for him at a greater distance - my little shop just gets full of that sour smell unwashed clothes have about them, and other body odours I'd rather not have to think about. He also does that thing with his tongue that Nick Griffin did on Question Time, flicking it in and out - it really revolts me. (I noticed that David Tennant did it when he played Bartimious Crouch Junior in 'The Goblet of Fire.' It was a masterstroke - made him very repulsive and I didn't think David T COULD ever be repulsive to me.)

There used to be a sweet old lady visit at least once a fortnight from the neighbouring town. She looked as if she didn't have two halfpennies to rub together but always spent £20 or so on books she 'couldn't resist.' I loved her for that as much as her evident gentleness and, again, intelligence, good manners etc. etc. Unfortunately she too smelled terrible and I used to writhe in embarassment if other customers came in at the same time or soon after her. It shames me to feel this way - I'm not very accepting of folk, but I know I was always friendly toward her whereas I keep my responses to this old man rather curt and distant and my eyes on my crossword and/or novel as much as possble.

The old lady hasn't been in for over a year and Chloe and I often speak about her, wondering where she is. Probably in a dreadful Home where she won't have access to any of her beloved books. Or she could be dead I suppose. I would like to know about her but don't have the first idea where to start.

Bad grannies

Good grief the Independent ran an article on research 'just out' that shows boys who have lots of contact with paternal grandmothers have a shorter life expectancy and thrive less well!! Can this be true? It's obviously very fortuitous that my son's babes live so far away from me. It doesn't say anything abut maternal Grandma's so hopefully Sanders is OK.

Honestly - who thinks up these research projects? This one, at a wild guess, was dreamed up by someone who hated her mother-in-law.