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Monday 7 September 2020

 

A MAN NEEDS A HOBBY.


One of the first things I made, Ideal for standing your
phone on, when not in use.


Before I get into the main thread of this week's Blog Let me ask have you ever got up and  wondered what you were going to do for the day? Well, we started off that way this morning it wasn’t the brightest of mornings, overcast and dull. During the lockdown, we have seen very few people to really interact with and today looked set to be much the same. Until 10am when my phone rang and a friend asked if I would help pick their potatoes, which with nothing to do I was more than happy to oblige so off I went. Valerie stayed home, When the potatoes were picked and our friends insisted I pick Valerie up to come and share lunch, and so what started out as a normal quiet day ended up as a lovely time with our friends and their family. Thank you so much.


Time was when we grew our own, but it's hard work
Now I am happy to help others.


But now back to the plot. “Every man needs a hobby” so said someone, but it's finding the right one that's important.


Those of you out there over a certain age (shall we say the more mature folk), I am sure will remember as kids having all sorts of hobbies, let me see, there was collecting matchbox tops or stamps, some would collect cigarette packets or dare I say it, birds eggs, which we would stick into scrapbooks or in the case of birds eggs put them carefully into perhaps a shoebox lined with cotton wool. Most of us had something we collected and were very enthusiastic about it. But as time went by our interest died and these things were left behind. Apart from the local Flower show where perhaps we could compete in running races ( for monetary prizes) or racing at school sports, it wasn’t until secondary school that we were introduced to things like the discus or javelin, hockey and cross country running, etc. Then only if you had the aptitude for something particular could it be developed into a hobby or pastime.


I tried stamp collecting.


 would love to be able to play a musical instrument but remember from infant school trying to play the recorder. ( The most I could get out of mine was a high pitched squeal and a very poor rendition of London's burning) My parents bought me a piano and I had lessons from a neighbour who smoked like a chimney. Did I succeed? No, I could just about get a tune together to sing at my own pace, try as I might. Later on, I tried the saxophone, and again just a squeak or a wheeze, I remember preaching to a congregation while I was trying the Sax and saying the potential was in the instrument to make a great sound but it was I who had to blow and make the sound come out. ( Like us all we have the potential within us for good or bad. It all depends on who has their hand upon our lives guide us.) But back to my musical aspirations, in the end, I just resigned myself to the fact that my eye/brain and hand coordination just didn’t work.


I tried learning the piano.
PS, no it's not me.
I tried painting but all the colours ran together and made the paper soggy. I’m not a painter I had to admit.


Still, I wanted to find that hobby that would give me some sense of achievement but where was it?


Now all of this might ring bells with you or not as the case may be.


Then we moved to Latvia and I found myself almost an acre of land to fill most of my days. I was able to put what I had learned from different jobs I had had into practice and create what I consider to be a lovely garden. Was this to be my hobby? No, I now think of it more as a labour of love, and it still fills a large part of my time. But what about the days when it rains or the snow is deep with the ground frozen like iron.

Well I guess one can always make a snowman.


Now I do like to take pictures and have a reasonable camera, I like to think I take a nice picture (occasionally) sometimes a friend (who is a professional photographer) will encourage me with a positive comment. Could I make it a real hobby? Probably not I don’t understand the technical side of things and it could cost me a lot of money to pursue it on a deeper level. So I will just call it a pastime for now.

One from the early days here in Latvia.


But now we come to the point of this week's blog. Those of you who have visited us will know that we have a basement which comprises of six rooms, one being a garage. The others are a boiler room, three storage rooms, and my workshop, yes I have a workshop in which I make repairs to my tools and machines, and at times fiddle with bits and pieces. But now most of all I am able to pursue, Wait for it , drum roll please, yes, my hobby. Finally, after so long a time I have found something that fills that hobby shaped gap, I like to scroll saw. I’m a scroll sawyer, I cut shapes in wood, I make things from wood and yes I make lots of sawdust, but I enjoy it it’s my hobby! It’s a hobby that can be as simple or complicated as I want to make it, it’s inexpensive I use old pallet wood or bits of plywood, and while doing it, it gives me time to think about perhaps more important things.


My workbench

Screws, drill bits, odds, and ends there all there some where.

Spare storage space.


I made a stand and turned a drill into a sander

A tool to turn wheels

My belt sander became a bench sander.

And my pride and joy, my
scrollsaw.
But most of all I enjoy it. Every man should have a hobby, it's only take me sixty years to 

find mine.

So what have I made well here are a few things.



Just a few things, from cheese boards to cars, reindeer, cranes 
money boxs and gifts of all kinds.




                            

Friday 21 August 2020

OUT and ABOUT, ( The first time in ages)





The sky was blue, the air was warm, the wind was soft,
What a great day for an outing.

Well here we are again, I think that I have now caught up with most of our happenings although I guess knowing my memory other things will emerge and if they are of note I’ll let you know.


This week though I can come up with something, that's right up to date.


On the 13th of March we went into lock-down here in Stelpe and since that time we have been quite isolated just seeing our neighbours across the way. As restrictions have eased there have been occasions when we have been able to meet friends albeit with social distancing, it’s not the same.


So you can imagine our delight when we heard that there was to be a pensioners outing scheduled for the eleventh it was to be a local trip and would start at 9.50am visiting places in and around Vecumnieki novad (county) Unlike most of the outings we have been on this would be a gentile sort of day.

9.30am saw us assembled at the school waiting for the coach and it arrived on time and soon we were on our way, with many chow’s Hi’s, Labdiens and sveiki’s to friends whom we hadn't seen for such a long time. Within a few minutes, we were turning off the main road to visit our first port of call.



Let the visit begin.

An idyllic spot. 





Just one of the many beautiful corners of the garden.


(Cast your mind back if you will to my blog entitled “Our Garden “ and you will find the lady who we gave a lift home and she showed us her garden) Our old friend’s garden has been lovingly cared for and was a beautiful place just to wander around and admire the plants,


Valerie explains that our yuca came from this mother plant.

I once said to a group of men “ Perhaps we sometimes too busy just being busy” we are all guilty of not taking time to stop and smell the roses. I am reminded of a poem we learned at Framfield school by W H Davis (1871–1940)

What of this life, if full of care,

We have no time to stand and stare,

No time to stand beneath the boughs,

And stare as long as sheep or cows.


No time to see when woods we pass,

Where squirrels hide there nuts in grass,

No time to see in broad daylight,

Streams full of stars, like skies at night.


And as we walked among the trees and plants it was good to just take the beauty of it all in.


Who wouldn't want to rest in a garden like this?


All to soon we were on our way to our next stop the small village of Barbele, so often we find ( to use another quote) “familiarity breeds contempt” and so many times we have passed through this
place and said how pretty it looks but never taken the time to stop. So what delights did it have to offer?

Barbele Lutheran church,

The all-important sign, a must. This way for food and another for the loo.

Barbele administration center, part of it used to be a pub.

We learned that a member of the upper class wanted to go to Russia and see the czar but the ordinary folk didn’t want this so they murdered him and he has a memorial stone in the churchyard, the church is the third one on the site as the other two burned down. ( or so we think if we got the gist of what was said ) We then moved on, way off the main road to where a spring with the clearest water was bubbling up, though it did taste a bit strange, and found that it was a sulpher spring and at one-time people would come and bath in the water in the nearby bathhouse, sadly like so many things it is just a memory now.


Just a modest roadside cafe, but excellent service and food.      

Unlike our lunch which was taken in a small cafe in the village center, while Valerie opted for the cepelinai ( so-called as they are shaped like a Zeppelin airship) made from grated and riced potatoes and filled with meat, they are very tasty and will stand by you for 24 hours, I decided to go for the chicken, which was the other option on the menu. Many roadside cafes advertise pusdienas which can be translated into hearty lunch and our lunch certainly fell into this category and the cost of such a lunch is usually around 3-4 euros.


Cepelinai

My chicken.

Clean plates, it was very tasty.


Lunch over we headed for Skaistkalne and to a small nursery called Darznieciba Dobites which is owned and run by a lady called Sandra, we know her well as most of our summer bedding plants came from her. The quality and price of her plants are excellent. We looked around her private garden and spent some time enjoying refreshments that our host had prepared for us, before climbing aboard the coach for our penultimate call.


Welcome to the plant center.

The sales area,  it so reminds me of my garden center days





Around our host's garden so many interesting plants to see.

Vecumnieki have just opened a tourist information center it is filled with exhibits of historical value and the ladies who run it are able to tell us about interesting places to visit. There is also a small display of articles produced by local artisans ( I hope to exhibit some of my scrollsaw work there in the near future) I asked if they ever had English visitors and sadly the answer was very seldom. It seems that folk from the UK do not venture far from the set tourist trails of Riga Jurmala and Sigulda, which is such a pity as Latvia has so much to offer.


Inside the information center.



So then it was just a short drive to the last call of the day our local florist Inese, where a small concert was arranged on the lawns of her house. plus we had some refreshments and time to wander and chat,

All too soon our day out was coming to an end and we were heading for home, The whole day was made extra special as we had in our party a young man who played the accordion and everywhere we went we were accompanied by lovely Latvian songs and music.


A very accomplished musician who kept us entertained all day.



 Then all back home after having spent a lovely day with friends.


At each stop, there is a welcome. This time with a song.

The concert, with songs and poetry.

Time to chat.

This week I have a poem/song which seems to sum up my feelings about where we find ourselves at the moment.

No man is an island,

No man stands alone,

Each man’s joy is joy to me,

Each mans grief is my own.


We need one another,

So I will defend,

Each man as my brother,

Each man as my friend.























Thursday 6 August 2020

Lost in translation


Hi there,

I have spent the last two blogs catching up and dwelling on some of the things that have happened to us, but thought this memory might make you smile before I move on to more current happenings,

I am sure many people who have lived in a foreign country have suffered from the problem I have expressed in the title of this week's blog. "Lost in translation". Most times things can be sorted with a little patience and explanation, let me see if I can tell you what I mean.

Some time ago a friend asked Valerie and me if we would like to go on a boat trip, the teachers from the school were going and there was room for us if we wanted to go. Well, of course, we would love to go thinking it’s just what we could do with, an afternoon leisurely drifting down the river Memele. You need to be at school at such and such a time our friend said and I’ll tell them you'll be there.


Great, it was a beautiful day, sun shining with just a gentle cooling breeze as we climbed aboard the bus that would take us to a village of Kurmene where our trip was to start.

A view of the river Memele in Kurmene.
(Picture fromVecumnieki .lv)


I might point out here that our friend was not among the group, and at this point alarm bells should have started to ring.

Everyone was in high spirits as we made the twenty-five-minute journey to our starting point and the coach pulled up in a narrow country lane opposite a track that led to the river, and having unloaded his passengers our driver sped off to await our arrival at the end of our trip in the village of Skaistkalne. There was a distinct buzz of anticipation in the air as we all made our way down the track and as we rounded the last bend the full extent of our “Boat trip” became clear.

We were expecting a boat! but I guess we did have a choice,
a red and white or yellow and green canoe.


"There's canoes"!!! Valerie cried out, ( now she hates the water and water sport of any sort, except for perhaps the University boat race,) But what could we do, the bus had gone, our friends were all climbing into the canoes after of course putting on life jackets and calling for everyone to follow as they set off. I can tell you it took all my power of persuasion to even get Valerie into a life jacket and sat in the one remaining canoe. Oh how many times have I heard the Latvian phrase “bus labi” and it was with these words ringing in our ears we were pushed out into the river and were on our way.

Bus labi Valerie.


 I was in the front with Valerie behind me and all was going well until I had a cramp in my hip, talk about agony, and there was nowhere to stretch my legs. So ten minutes in we were heading for the bank to change places, this in itself was no mean feat believe you me. As we set off once again we caught up with some of the rest of our group who were experiencing their own set of problems so that made us feel a little better (not a lot though)


Our friends waited until we were on our way.


Someone had said when I asked at the start of our journey “ How deep is it”? ( any water that comes over my knees is deep) oh not very deep, so when I put my paddle down into the water and couldn’t touch the bottom I knew it was DEEP. Added to this in places the water was quite fast and in places large boulders came close to the surface and could only be seen when we were almost on top of them, we did in fact hit a couple which really raised our heart rate.





While the rest of the group headed off down the river. 


To reassure Valerie, I told her it won't be long before we can see the end of our journey, I was working on the idea that from our starting point to the finish was ten minutes by car not far at all, what I hadn’t taken into account was the river doesn't follow the road but takes a more meandering course.


Don't worry Valerie I'm sure the end is just
round the next bend.


Finally after what seemed a lifetime ( but was nearer two and a half hours) we rounded the last bend and joined our friends for a well-earned rest, and as we were the eldest in the group were very proud of our effort and all in all, it was a beautiful trip with lovely scenery,

The scenery was beautiful

A boat trip it certainly was not!!


They say every picture tells a story, I was cream crackered

I think everyone was glad to rest and relax at the end of
what was really a great day out.
Would we do it again? Not on your Nellie!


Oh yes last time I promised to tell you the result of the garden competition, well I am happy to tell you that we won and were presented with an illuminated award, a conifer tree and three bags of compost plus a bale of peat. We were so happy that all of our hard work had paid off.





Our garden competition award which now
takes pride of place in our sitting room.



And if you are wondering what "bus labi" means well it's a phrase we hear quite a lot and is simply "it will be fine" 

 



My hymn to finish this week is one that many will remember firstly from school days at Uckfield CS school I think it was the most chosen hymn when class’s took assembly and it was OK to sing a hymn, have a bible reading and say a prayer. Boy how things have changed.


Dear Lord and Father of mankind, forgive our foolish ways; reclothe us in our rightful mind, in purer lives thy service find, in deeper reverence, praise.
In simple trust like theirs who heard, beside the Syrian sea, the gracious calling of the Lord, let us, like them, without a word, rise up and follow thee.
O sabbath rest by Galilee, O calm of hills above, where Jesus knelt to share with thee the silence of eternity, interpreted by love!
Drop thy still dews of quietness, till all our strivings cease; take from our souls the strain and stress, and let our ordered lives confess the beauty of thy peace.
Breathe through the heats of our desire thy coolness and thy balm; let sense be dumb, let flesh retire; speak through the earthquake, wind, and fire, O still, small voice of calm.






Sunday 26 July 2020

Our Garden.


I can always find something to do in our garden, the grass never seems to stop growing nor do the weeds. I guess a garden is a bit like the Forth road bridge, when you think you have everything finished and under control you have to start all over again

One of our many clematises, this is the
only double one though.

We often watch “Escape to the country” on TV and are amused by the city dwellers who for 30 years have had a garden the size of a pocket-handkerchief and then decide that they “must have at least 3 acres.I wonder, do they even know how big 3 acres is? I know our half a hectare ( 1.23 acres) keeps me out of mischief. But we are always trying to think of something new, and can always find room for some new plants.

Trying wherever possible to buy plants that have been propagated and grown here in Latvia is always best, though I must confess we can be tempted by supermarket plants ( if they have not been on the shelves to long) And having spent many years working in one of the best garden centers in Berkshire it frustrates me when I see plants that have dried out and still on sale. 


Many of our plants have a story attached to them, making them personal to us. Like the yucca plant we have. I will tell you about it.

Valerie and I were going to Vecumnieki and passed a pensioner friend who had been shopping and was heading home, she was waiting by the side of the road thumbing a lift, we looked at each other and said “is that who we think?' she can’t really be doing that can she? We did what we needed to in the village and headed back home, and sure enough, there was our friend, still by the roadside. thumbing,,,,, Well, we couldn’t leave her, could we? I pulled in and Valerie opened her window and said “ majas ?” (home) and quick as a flash, she jumped in the back, and off we went, When we reached the turn for Stelpe she gathered her shopping together and got ready to get out and was surprised that I kept on driving, it must be 2 kilometers from our turning to her home. she must have been in her late 70’s.


We pulled up outside of the house and made to drive away, but she insisted she showing us her garden, OK,,, out we jump and are given the grand tour. We eventually left, what must have been an hour later with armfuls of gifts, onions, a pumpkin, a clump of chrysanthemum, and a yucca plant oh yes and a bar of chocolate. So you see whenever we look at our plant we think of this lovely lady and remember her with great affection, sadly she passed away but lives on in our garden.


We have so many stories like that, our iris collection has been given to us by another friend who breeds them, and we have many plants that neighbors have given

A quiet shady corner.

Our garden used to be divided into two parts, the lower part was used for Vegetables and an orchard, and the top half was more veg, soft fruit, with a little given over to ornamental plants, this has changed over the years and we now have ( what we like to think) a more traditional English garden, with flower borders and beds.

Our conifer bed which gives us
colour all year round.

Every few years our local government holds a garden/home competition, with judges coming to look at how the householder has done to improve or change their garden. Four or five years, we took part and were awarded a certificate for competing and a monetary prize. When the opportunity came to take part in the 2019 competition we were up for it, but what could we do to improve our plot?

Time for our thinking caps to go on.

Some time ago I put a fence across the front of the garden (to keep a small dog out, but that's another story) into the fence I put a garden gate from where a path leads up to our door. It was the ideal spot to put some Arches and grow climbers over. Said arches made and erected we planted roses, honeysuckle and clematis, and this year they have been wonderful.

Looking down the front path
towards the gate.

The main project was the construction of a pond. We had bought a pump some years ago and made an attempt at creating a small water feature but with very little success (well no success at all really) so the pump and all the gubbins that went with it were put on a shelf in the basement and left to gather dust

One day Valerie was on Facebook and came across a novel way of making a pond/water feature, from an old tractor tyre, which would go well in a corner that we just couldn't think of what to do with it. What a good idea but where will we get all the bits we need to make it from? 


First we need a tyre, I spotted one leaning against an old building not too far from home and asked our neighbor if I could have it, no problem take it he said. Next, a pond liner that has to come from a shop, which meant a trip to Riga to a DIY store, after some discussion with a member of staff we found what we needed. OK, everything else I had stored away hose pipe, padding to lay on the ground to protect the liner, etc. I have put a record of my progress in the pictures below.

All projects completed and the garden looking great,,, the day of the competition judging arrived. At the arranged time a minivan turned up and the judges wandered into our garden clipboards at the ready keen to see what we had done since the last time. After answering questions and spending time showing the judges round, they left to go on to the next competitor. Leaving us to wait and wonder how did we do? ( to find out you will have to read next weeks blog)

Our philosophy regarding the garden is one of creating a place of peace and beauty, a place to share the blessings we have and a place just enjoy the beauty be it a single bloom, a bed of glorious colour, to listen to the song of a bird or just a place to be quiet.


First I cleared the site and dug a shallow 
pit just a little larger than the tyre.

Cut to size and laid a protective
cover for the liner.

Laid the tyre in the center after cutting
one rim from the tyre.

Cut and laid the liner in place and
filled with water.

Trimmed the liner to size and covered 
the tyre with stones to finish.









I’ll finish as I did last week with a hymn which just about sums up our garden.



I come to the garden alone while the dew is still on the roses,


And the voice I hear falling on my ear,


The Son of God discloses


2.He speaks, and the sound of his voice is so sweet
The birds hush their singing,
And the melody that He gives to me
Within my heart is to ringing.

And He walks with me and He talks with me,
And He tells me I am his own;
And the joy we share as we tarry there,
None other has ever known