I’m pretty sure that people who claim to be authorities on anything only know a portion of what they’re talking about because every day brings new stuff to light.
If I had to choose one area, though, I would say I know a fair amount about wooden jigsaws from the very late 19th century to around the middle of the 20th century.
I have not seen every jigsaw nor have I put together every jigsaw but I have seen many of those made in Britain and a few from elsewhere. For about nine years I bought and sold them, and, each one I sold I put together before selling it so I could assure the buyer that all the pieces were there or warn that several were missing.
Now, there’s absolutely no way I would use a bandsaw and am not really good at sawing with a fret saw but I have made new jigsaw pieces with a plastic/resin material, the name of which has completely gone from my mind! The making wasn’t too difficult as long as you had all the pieces surrounding the hole left by the missing one – the difficulty was in painting the piece once it was made. I am not an authority on that – nine years isn’t nearly long enough to work out that problem – but I didn’t try to pass off a remade piece as perfect and my customers were always happy.
If you are interested in wooden jigsaw puzzles, there are two earlier posts in this blog and some photos of some of my favourites.
Below are two jigsaws I did for fun a couple of years ago. Both of them are ‘vintage’ (pre-1960, definitely but undated). The biggest one was too big to put together on the board, as you can see. It had several pieces missing which were remade by someone else. Both were very enjoyable!
This jigsaw was un-named so I’m not sure what the scene depicts.The Pied-Piper (the lighting wasn’t very good for this photo!)
What’s the most delicious thing you’ve ever eaten?
I did think the snails were delicious when Mme Prin made them in the summer of 1959. They were buttery and garlicky and a little bit chewy.- mmmmm! That was the year I spent my long summer vacation with the Prin family in Le Touquet, France.
But, that was then. Before summer 1958, I loved the pizzas I ate at Edricos in Ludlow Avenue, Cincinnati, and up the road from Edricos, the hot fudge sundaes I had in a drug store opposite Burnet Woods, were just the best!
Of course, we had delicious meals at home, particularly those for Thanksgiving and Christmas which were usually at Grandma Weller’s house in Zanesville. My memory tells me that the sweet potatoes cooked in the oven with marshmallows on top, were THE BEST thing ever, though nowadays I imagine I would find that a bit too sweet.
When I am feeling particularly hungry nowadays, whatever I find that I enjoy, is my favourite food of the moment. A big bowl of chili or roasted chicken thighs or raspberry pavlova might be my favourite foods or, like today, a tuna steak on a bed of spinach which was just wonderful! And then, there’s salmon fillet roasted in the oven for exactly 18 minutes – sometimes I can’t think of anything I would rather eat!
For breakfast I adore porridge with cinnamon, sugar and cream! (Being on a diet, sadly I can’t have the cream 🥺). I fondly remember breakfasts of French toast (eggie toast to the British), or American pancakes – which are so different from English pancakes! Then there are ‘continental breakfasts’ of croissants with jam, baguette with jam, coffee in a bowl (of course, no jam!🤣) or jam doughnuts! (If I weren’t so full, still, from my lovely lunch, I would love some jam doughnuts!)
If I had to answer the question asked in today’s prompt, which of all the above, would I choose?
Vario’s roast beef with a baked potato filled with whipped sour cream & chives is possibly the stand-out meal that I remember from my past. (Vario’s was a restaurant in either Nevada or California, but I can’t remember which – I was only 12 at the time!)
Sitting here, thinking about it, I believe I could make a list of my favourite foods from the time I was eating baby foods (vegetables and lamb) to today’s lunch (the tuna) and that list would be as long as my arm!
Better to ask my least favourite foods! I think that would be tripe! Mind you, I had a migraine the day I was given it – in Amiens, France in 1958 – so, perhaps it wasn’t that bad, but I’m not keen to try it again!
When I was young, if I had been asked this question, I think I would have answered, ‘My eyes’.
Everyone always told me what a lovely colour they were (blue) and I guess I assumed that was true.
As is normal, my eyes are still blue. And, nowadays,they are the most colourful thing on my face – though my lips usually look as though I’m wearing lipstick even when I’m not.
Anyway, my eyes. One of them is and always has been lazy. I think that means that my right eyelid droops a little more than my left but it probably also means that it doesn’t see as well as my left one. This is true. I have astigmatism in my right eye and always have had. Glasses, when I was a child, did nothing to correct the sight in my right eye but they did give me ferocious headaches and made everything I looked at seem to be on a slant.
To me, my sight was great as long as I could use both eyes at the same time. I could see which bus number was coming better than many people, I could read and sew and watch tv and all sorts of things as well as anyone, if I used both eyes.
I began having a bit of trouble seeing things ‘close-up‘ when I was in my forties. I bought half-moon type glasses so that I could write on the blackboard but still look at the kid at the back of the class who was making a silly noise. They worked well and I always had at least one pair of “over the counter” glasses, nearby.
Now, we come to old age. It was only in 2020 that I noticed I couldn’t see bus numbers as easily as before, so went to the optician, in between lockdowns. My eyes were checked and found to be in need of glasses both for reading and seeing bus numbers. My first glasses were sent by post and I never did have them made slightly tighter so that they wouldn’t fall off when I looked down.
That year, I had my first ever bifocals. Glasses seem to have advanced since the 1950’s! I no longer see things on a slant, nor do I get dreadful headaches.The optician gave me a little chart with squares on and told me to look at this chart every once in a while. If the squares weren’t in line or if there were gaps, I should make an urgent appointment to see her. I didn’t see any change in the little squares.
All was well, in the eye department until I noticed that I would see a star as my eyes passed over the night sky but when I looked directly at the spot where I had seen the star, I COULDN’T SEE IT! I checked again and realised that I COULD see it if I looked out of the side of my eye.
This, dear reader, was the first sign of a cataract.
This year I went to the optician (as I do every year, nowadays). He (notice how the gender keeps changing, along with the optician!) asked why I hadn’t had my cataract removed last year! I answered that last year’s optician told me that it would need ‘doing’ this year. Well, it looks like my right (lazy) eye is going to have its cataract removed as soon as the waiting list gets to me – maybe this year, maybe next. And by then the other eye will need the op! Oh, well, getting old is, I suppose, better than the alternative!
So – my favourite thing about myself? I think I would say, my heart. It just keeps ticking away. Good job, heart! ♥️
I was thinking about part one of this blog and realised that my dates were way out! It wasn’t 2015 that I had my knees replaced, but 2010! I guess time just flies by when you’re old!
To get back to my left knee, though.
By December, 2010, my right knee was healed and doing well. The hospital contacted me to come in for a pre-op check. They tested my heart, my blood pressure etc and declared me fit. Then, the nurse noticed a red spot on the back of my left leg, half way between my knee and my foot. She said that it looked a bit like it was infected and, if that were the case, I would have to wait until it was cleared up! Somehow, it was decided that all was well, though, and I was told to arrive at the QEQM as before, at 7:30 on the following Friday morning.
I imagine Julian drove me there that time, but I’m not absolutely certain. I wasn’t in the Spencer wing this time but in the orthopaedic ward – not a room with en suite, this time but a room of 6 or 8 beds and a short walk to the loo. I preferred that, actually, because there was a lot more going on, people to talk to, big windows to look out…..it was nice!
I had the operation some time in the early afternoon and was fully awake by around six in the evening, I looked outside and saw that it was just beginning to snow! (This is not a normal occurrence in December in south-east England!)
I found sleeping very difficult throughout the night and spent a lot of time looking out the window from my bed. The snow kept on snowing all night and into the next day. And, the next day, new patients kept arriving……most of them because they had gone out into the snow and had fallen over and broken an arm or leg.
As before I was made to get up and walk with my new knee, using a walking frame as before. In fact, everything was about the same except there weren’t a lot of nurses on duty – they couldn’t get to the hospital because of the snow! (Snow happens so infrequently, compared to other countries, that we never seem to be ready for it!)
I’m pretty sure Julian came to visit that evening and some of the others had visitors as well.
If you’ve read Part One you’ll know the kind of things I had to do in order to be sent home and that’s exactly what happened again. I went home, happily – this time with my dressing gown sash at the ready!
Almost as soon as I got home, though, my left leg started to itch! Of course, healing wounds do itch but this wasn’t because of the wound – this was because of the bandage, or rather the adhesive tape used to stick the bandage to my leg. I have an intolerance to plasters, even the ones for delicate skin! My leg seemed to itch 24 hours a day! I tried not to scratch but the itching was partly below the end of the bandage so I thought I could at least scratch there.
Sadly, I shouldn’t have scratched there! I got an infection in my leg and though the operation wound healed, the infection took two lots of antibiotics to clear up. As a result of the infection, my leg swelled up a bit and the scar on my left leg is almost a full centimetre wide where the scar on my right leg is almost invisible. Let that be a lesson to all you reading this! No scratching!
Despite the infection, my knee healed well and in the following January I signed up for The Race for Life, raising money for Cancer Research. I had six months to prepare for the 5 km race.
I am not, and never have been, a runner. I was always the last to be chosen to be in a team sport – short, sturdy legs and wide hips don’t make for speed! And, truthfully, I didn’t mind throughout my childhood and teen years. In my 50’s, though, Julian and I belonged to a walking group and week-ends were spent on rambles around lovely areas of mid-Kent.
I knew that I wasn’t going to run the Race for Life, but there isn’t a rule that one must run. I spent February through June, training to walk further and further. (5 km may not be a long way for you but it is, and was, a long way for me – particularly with my two new knees!) Friends and relatives signed up to donate; even one of my sister’s old boyfriends, who actually gave the entire amount that I had hoped to raise – so I raised a lot more than I thought I would!
The day itself was hot. The race took place in an area of Cliftonville called Palm Bay, on a large, grassy area overlooking the sea. The course was twice up and back from the starting point and many people ran the whole way and were back quite quickly. I, and a few others, walked and it seemed to take a VERY long time – but, I did it!
I wish I could say that I’ve gone on to walk long distances every day! I haven’t. I did go to an exercise class for us oldies and I also went to exercises in the old Ramsgate swimming pool. That took me until the time I got pneumonia (I think I’ve probably written about before.) After getting better, my going out for exercise seems to have tailed off – and then there was covid-19 and lockdowns. I did walk with Lola, sometimes quite far (for me), when we were allowed to but, I’m pretty old now and I have become lazy – and get breathless, easily.
We go out for short walks now. Luckily, Lola is small and middle-aged for a dog, so only needs little walks but at home we play with her toys, most days. She is very fond of one ‘game’ in particular. She has a rubber banana which has lost its squeaker. I walk away from her, carrying the banana at hip height and she sneaks up and ‘steals’ the banana from me. She loves to steal the banana but then she just drops it. I tried substituting a real banana but she realised it wasn’t hers and gave up.
One more thing – they told me that my replaced knees might start hurting after ten to fifteen years……we’re coming up to the fifteen year mark (next June and December) but, so far, so good!
The notable thing that happened today is that I finally published a post I started writing before covid reared its ugly head! It’s called Oh, My Knees.
Twelve or thirteen years ago, when I was still young (!) and much more active, my knees began to hurt when I walked. Looking back I know that walking was jolly painful but, strangely, I cannot remember what kind of pain it was. (They say the same of childbirth, though I know that I would gladly have had more babies whereas I’m absolutely certain that I don’t want my knees to hurt the way they did back then.)
I do remember that standing still didn’t hurt but moving afterwards was indescribable! Until 2014 I was still selling antique and vintage games and jigsaw puzzles online and often found myself standing at the kitchen island at half past midnight telling myself, “Just one more piece then I must go to bed.” about whichever puzzle I was doing. -.-.-.-.
Almost a year has passed since I started the above post. That’s one thing, of many, that covid-19 has done – made time move in mysterious ways! Time has gone so quickly, and so slowly. The last year and a quarter has passed in a flash but I have had nothing but time and yet I haven’t had time to write or paint or go to the beach. I also, I hasten to add, have not watched daytime tv.
Last Christmas was as unlike Christmas as any in my life. There were no visitors, no tree, no stockings, few decorations, little alcohol, no extra meals with chocolate and satsumas and nuts. We did have a get-together of family – on Zoom – which lasted about half an hour, and another Zoom meeting on Boxing Day with Julian’s brothers, wives and children but Zoom meetings aren’t exactly full of fun and games!
For some reason this strange speedy but trudging passage of time meant that I forgot friends’ birthdays,…….
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And, again, for some reason I did not even finish the sentence I was writing and I don’t know when I wrote the last couple of paragraphs above! I think I’ll get back to my knees.
So, my knees hurt. I went to the doctor who x-rayed me and concluded that I had arthritis in my knees and the only real cure was replacement. If I had been writing this post back in the teens of the 21st century, I would be able to give you an idea of how long it took to get an appointment with an orthopaedic surgeon and then to have knee replacements. Now, I really don’t know how long it was.
I think I first saw the surgeon in January of 2015. I know that I had the right knee replaced in early June that same year and the left knee operated on in the first days of December, 2015. The operations were the same and yet the circumstances were different.
In June, 2015, I was admitted to the Spencer wing of the QEQM hospital early in the morning. I remember that Julian had to work that day and couldn’t take me to the hospital so I had to take a taxi. I wasn’t a private patient but sometimes, I was told, the hospital used the private wing for accommodation. The operation was carried out by the NHS.
I was taken to my room and changed into a gown, then waited for the porter to come and get me, which was probably around noon. I was taken to an ante-room and there I chatted with the anaesthetist who asked various questions. Which knee, any allergies, etc etc. then I was given a spinal block injection and a general anaesthetic, counted down from 10 to about 7 and………….woke up in a recovery ward in what felt like a few minutes. (It was probably longer, though!)
That evening, back in my room, I awoke at some point having to pee. I seem to remember, but I may be wrong, having to walk to the en suite. I know that I wasn’t allowed to have a lot of time recuperating in bed; on the first day after the op I was awoken, had a nice breakfast, and was made to get out of bed. I remember that I had to walk up and down the hallway outside my room using a walking frame. In the afternoon I had a visit from a couple of friends and I think Julian came to visit in the evening.
The next day I was asked to walk up a short flight of stairs and walk down again, aided by crutches. After lunch a doctor visited me and told me I could go home if I could lift my leg up a few inches while lying on my back. It was difficult but I wanted to go home, so I managed it! I must have rung Julian then to ask him to come and get me because he came and got me. Then I came across a real problem! I couldn’t get into the car!
As it was my right leg and I was a passenger in the front seat, I had to get the right leg in first. I sat, facing outward but could not lift my leg and bend my knee enough to manage to turn and get my leg over the sill of the car and inside. I can’t remember who gave me the hint but someone said, use your dressing gown belt. Hold both ends, one in each hand, and slip the loop you’ve made under your right foot, then bend your knee, lift your leg and turn. It worked!Getting out of the car at home was much easier.
I used the crutches for a day or two but was able to give them up quite quickly and just use a walking stick. The NHS had loaned us a special doohickey that surrounded our toilet and made it easier to get up after using the loo, as there were handles of the right height to use to lift myself into a standing position.
Because I have an intolerance to nickel I had to have stitches rather than staples in my scar. A nurse came after a week or so and took the stitches out.
The worst part of the whole thing, aside from having to sleep on my back for a while, was I had to give myself injections in my abdomen for a month so that I didn’t get any blood clots.
After a couple of months, my right knee was completely healed and was almost as good as new!
(One thing I hadn’t realised is, if you have a replacement knee, you can’t kneel on it and, being overweight, I need to kneel in order to get up off the floor. I would still have had my knees replaced, of course, but I do miss kneeling!)
End of part one! The long story of my second knee replacement the following December will follow soon (I hope)
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Note 1 – The cars in Britain are right-hand-drive
Note 2 – QEQM – The Queen Elizabeth the Queen Mother hospital.
Note 3 – The Spencer Wing – the private wing of the QEQM
(I wrote this a while ago. If you have checked the daily prompts on the home page of this website, you’ll know how long ago it is. Most, if not all, of the prompts have been very silly – particularly for an 80-something year old woman. I’m not sure why I didn’t publish it at the time – probably the phone rang and I forgot. Anyway, below is what I wrote that day,)
I’ve been waiting for a topic that I could write about in an interesting article, but I’m still waiting.
Who would I like to talk to soon? Well, I always like talking to my daughter and grand daughter – in fact I saw – and talked to – both of them yesterday.
I seem to remember that one recent prompt was something about my favourite possessions. How can you choose between photos of your loved ones and your dog? Why choose just a couple of possessions? Who would be truly interested?
My main reason for writing these short posts is to let my descendants and anyone who might be interested, know something more about me. Who cares which of my too many possessions are today’s favourites?
Come on, you people in the invisible background. Please, please, find me and the others some interesting prompts!
If you had to change your name, what would your new name be?
I will begin by saying that quite often, on hearing my name people congratulate me on it. It’s not as though I, Candy Jeffers, married Julian Lovegrove and became Candy Lovegrove, just because of his surname. (though I do admit, it’s a jolly good name)
Why would anyone want to change their name? If it’s just the first name, I could understand a girl named Chardonnay or Sauternes or Prosecco might want to be known as Carol, Susan or Patty but changing one’s full name seems very unusual.
And, if your mother takes to writing her memoirs online and you don’t want your students to know she is talking about you, she might choose a fun new name for herself to be used in those memoirs.
Okay, there are girls who want to change their surname to the boy they fancy, but what happens when they fancy someone else? (It happens!) I sincerely doubt that the majority of women look for a man with what they consider the perfect surname.
I know that people must change their name because they’re in hiding from gangsters or dangerous ex’s but mostly, they don’t get to choose their new name.
I love the internet! I am 81 and it has been around for less than half my life. I think it’s a surprise to many young people that some older people actually know their way round a lot of the internet, if not every bit.
I was teaching in the 1980s when schools started being given computers. In the primary school I worked at, we were given one for the entire 120 or so children in our building. I remember being unsure how I could let each of the 30 children ‘have a go’ when each classroom had it for an hour or two. Happily, I gave up teaching in that school and by the time I worked in secondary schools (a few years later) there were enough computers for a class and each class would have an hour or so once or twice a week.
Julian bought a PC way back in the ‘90s which was before the internet (at least for the majority of people) and we used it as a sort of typewriter which could be hooked up to a printer.
In about 1997 we opened our shop. We had a PC in our joint office. I’m not sure what Julian used it for but I was very involved with Spider Solitaire! I remember that when you turned the computer on and wanted to be on the internet, the computer took over the phone line and you heard beep-beep-beep-beep-beep etc then you could look at emails. But, you couldn’t take or make phone calls! That didn’t last for too long, I seem to remember.
I loved email from the first time I used it! I had always loved getting post but that didn’t happen every day. Suddenly I was getting and sending messages from friends and family – maybe 1 or 2 a day! That was so great!
Now, of course, we’ve had broadband and, even better, Wi-Fi, for ages. There will be some young people who won’t realise that there was no internet, no broadband, no Wi-Fi, at least for most mere mortals, until I was already quite old (in my 50’s) and I’m sure they will hardly be able to believe it!
White Haired Woman 