Marty

Greetings, young Albert!

Got a Microsoft Teams meeting coming up in about 40 minutes... Hope it works this time!

Well after midnight (actually closer to 1:00am), so I'll head to bed. I'll just leave you with the following, and dedicate it to a few of the crazy people here:

pffffttt? Sounds like someone's got wind...

I'm all out of Gold Stars, so...

I suppose I'm going to have to award you a Gold Star, as well (if only for the Christmas suggestions).

Name three days that follow each other consecutively, without using the words Monday, Wednesday, Friday, or Sunday.

Tu es incorrigible, ma fée méchante.

Without looking at the hidden answer, I'm going to take a guess that it's a.... [EDIT] Turns out I was correct. *High fives myself*

Getting there, Albert. Getting there. Slowly, slowly, wins the race.

And you, bro. A bit cooler here today than recently. About 6°C/43°F here at the moment. Was in double figures (C) over the past number of days. No rain, though, which is a blessing. Outlook is that the temps will rise again over the next four or five days, but there may be some rain. Sun not putting in a great amount of appearance.

Greetings, young Albert! Once again, you're catching me during another gardening break.

Would I even be here had she not survived? I think she may have suffered just a little bit of survivor guilt, though. Apparently, as she was recovering, there was another young woman brought into hospital suffering from similar burns to her own. She overheard one of the nurses suggest to the the doctor to treat her with penicillin, the same as had been done to to my mam. Penicillin was in its infancy at the time, and was also in short supply. The doctor's reply was that he was uncertain as to whether he could get enough penicillin to treat her with, and also said that they didn't even know for sure whether it was the penicillin that had actually saved my mother, or whether she might have survived anyway. They didn't use it on the second woman, and she died from infections entering through the damaged areas of skin.

I tend to be extra careful when it comes to fires and the burning of things. My own mother suffered quite severe burns when her nightdress caught fire a number of years before I was born. She was looking in a mirror hung over the mantelpiece whilst brushing her hair, and was lucky to survive. Her sister rolled her into the fireside mat to smother the flames. Apparently the hospital didn't expect her to survive. They used the newly discovered penicillin to prevent infections entering through the burnt areas of skin, and she needed extensive skin grafts. Her left leg and arm were both badly scarred, but she was fortunate that she could cover those with long sleeved blouses and dresses (she tended to wear trousers in her later years). She was also fortunate that the flames didn't burn her face. She used to tell us that one day whilst she was in hospital drifting in and out of consciousness, she heard someone laughing outside the door, and someone else say: "Hush! That poor girl the other side of the door is dying!" And that's when she decided that she had to prove them wrong.

And you, bro! (And everyone else, as well )

Past few days have been mild (for Ireland), dry, and sunny. Great weather for garden work. After being a wee bit naughty this morning, and popping just over the border into Northern Ireland to post a birthday card to a grand-niece in England who will be 3 years old on Saturday (as mail can take forever to get between the Republic of Ireland and England at the moment), I started the bonfire of all the ivy, Russian vine, and branches cut from the boundary hedge when I got back home. I'm slowly gathering branches, etc, from all round the garden to dispose of on it. I reckon I'll have to continue that job tomorrow. But there should be enough heat left in the embers to rekindle the fire.

Very Albert-ish.

Greetings, young Albert!

Possibly because I've experienced it on occasions. for commenting, Parker

Cheers, Gary. I've been there myself. More than once. And yes, it is lovely - at least as a memory. But, sometimes, those twenty hours really can feel like an eternity.

Thanks for the vote of confidence, @starboardtack!

Just twenty four hours And yet an eternity... One day without him

I Don't Wanna Grow Up...