Okay, after our post from Dumpton, this is another rather personal post. Pat has held a Macmillan Coffee Morning for the past few years in aid of Macmillan Nurses who look after people with cancer. They did a fantastic job with our son, Rory, when he was reaching the end of his life. They made things much easier for him and us.
Macmillan nurses provide free services to people living with cancer and their families. They work closely with patients to alleviate pain, manage discomfort, and boost overall well-being – both mental and physical. Yet, as a charity they are entirely dependent on public donations, hence the coffee mornings which are held all over the UK at this time of year.
Reunions
My sister arrived form the south of France to man the coffee machine
Pat’s coffee mornings have become something of an institution. For a couple of hours every year our house is buzzing with a happy throng of people who come to support her and raise money for Macmillan nurses. Many are neighbours and people from the surrounding area. Some haven’t seen each other since the last coffee morning so there is the sound of joyous reunions everywhere. Friends and family, of course, are roped into to help with arrangements.
Our daughters took us by surprise by flying up from London to lend a hand … fantastic
Our favourite coffee company, Henry’s, generously supplies a machine a lots of tea and coffee to ensure everyone is kept suitably refreshed.
My brother scanning me
Of course, with around sixty people attending there is also overspill into the garden.
Disappearing scones
For Pat it is a hectic but wonderful couple of hours. The culmination of several days of baking cakes and making sandwiches and sausage rolls. She even made scones.
I can’t say what they were like because they simply vanished. Friends also brought baking and things to sell. Suffice to say, everyone’s combined efforts online and on the day raised about £3,400 … amazing!
Pat finding a quiet corner to have some of her own baking
With the world in such turmoil it’s great to be reminded that ordinary folk are just wonderful. A huge thanks to everyone who helped and gave so generously at the coffee mornings. Donations are still coming in so we will let you know the final total in due course.
Macmillan Support Line – free 0808 808 00 00 (7 days a week, 8am — 8pm).
In our previous post from Simply Sarah’s in Doune we mentioned that the village was famous for making pistols. The sort of weapon used by gentlemen who felt their reputation had been besmirched. Besmirching was usually done by gentlemen to one another and dueling was seen as an honourable way of resolving such situations. Common people couldn’t duel; a) they couldn’t afford a decent pistol and b) it would be unseemly for a gentleman to be shot dead by someone of lower social standing … perish the thought!
Quick draw
Today we are at the Glen Café in the little hamlet of Clachan of Campsie. Just a few yards from the cafe stand two ancient Spanish chestnuts, “the duelling trees”. They mark the site of a duel between a Tory and a Liberal politician in the 1600s. The Liberal chap, Malcolm Kincaid, lost the duel … and his life. The victor may have retired here (it used to be an Inn) for refreshment and to enjoy the congratulations of his admirers. When you think of the endless inconsequential arguments between politicians these days, dueling seems to take on some merit. Can you imagine the quick draw contests between our current world leaders? The problem is that self evidently all that duelling in the past didn’t actually solve anything. They’re all still arguing.
Do we need a dog?
This morning the weatherman said “go west if you want sunshine” so we did. Falkirk was decidedly cloudy when we left but by the time we got here we were bathed in glorious sunshine. Well done that weatherman! The café is quite big and virtually joined on to the historic St Machan’s graveyard. It’s a favourite place for people to access the paths onto the Campsie Fells and perhaps unsurprisingly is very dog friendly. In fact there were so many, at first we thought it might be a prerequisite to have a dog but luckily, it wasn’t.
It was still early so we decided on a light breakfast followed by a scone to share. Our coffees arrived first and we were delighted to find that they used our favourite coffee … Henry’s, fantastic! This is the way to start the day! Helpfully the staff had said that they would hold our scone until we had finished our breakfast. Then, when we were ready, they asked if we would like the scone warmed. Why not? No cream but they came with plenty butter and jam. Unfortunately none of it was locally produced, not even from Scotland. A bit of a black mark there. On the plus side the scone itself were really nice.
Who was St Machan?
We really enjoyed this place with its friendly service and beautiful location. We decided to visit St Machan’s graveyard next door and asked one the ladies behind the counter who he was. “Who?” was the puzzled answer. We would have to find out for ourselves.
St Machan’s graveyard with the remains of the chapel to the left and the Lennox Mausoleaum in the distant right
Turns out not much is known about him. Firstly he was a Scottish 6th century bishop, educated in Ireland, ordained in Rome and spent the rest of his life as a missionary here in Campsie Glen. Secondly, how did he do all that back then without Easyjet or Ryanair? The chapel in the graveyard was built over his grave.
Luxury mausoleums
The Lennox mausoleum was built in 1715 by the powerful family who lived at nearby Lennox Castle.
The Lennox mausoleum
In 1819 Miss Lennox had it restored and added another storey with a fireplace. She used it as a “sitting room” to receive guests between services. She, in turn, was buried here in 1832 and in 1884 it was sealed up permanently using ancient Kincaid tombstones from the graveyard. And we thought one of them might have belonged to our old duelling loser, Malcolm, but apparently not. It is fascinating to read the inscriptions on some of these graves. They shed light on what life was like centuries ago. However, some were unashamedly looking for an easy passage into heaven. Quite blatantly bragging about how saintly they had been during their time in Campsie Glen.
Other mysteries
Sadly, besmirching seems be a thing of the past. Perhaps there aren’t enough honourable gentlemen around these days? Vulgar insults and “see you in court” seems to have replaced it.
This was a beautiful day. We returned home via the Carron Valley, which supplies all the water to Falkirk. Seldom do we think, when turning on the tap or taking a bath, that this is where it all comes from. How does that work? It’s almost as mysterious as St Machan’s travels all those centuries ago.
It seems as if Powmill Milk Bar has always been there. Since time immemorial we have driven past it on our way to other places and said “we must go in there some time“. It’s always been a wooden shack style structure but it’s been there so long, the current incarnation must be third or fourth generation.
Easyriders
Anyway, It was a nice day and we had been driving on inexpicably quiet roads to get here. Then it all became clear. Everybody was already here at Powmill Milk Bar! It was mobbed and it was obviously a favoured spot for motorbikes. Leather clad blokes were standing around admiring each other’s bikes in the way that leather clad blokes do. There was also some middle aged car bound blokes admiring all the Ducatis and Kawasaki flying machines and presumably dreaming of a life that might have been.
Scooters in the car park
Preloaded!
Inside it was going like a fair. We had to join the line at the self service counter but fortunately it went very quickly. A fruit scone was all we wanted but when we asked for jam and cream it seemed to cause some confusion. They just looked at us and said “we have cream scones“! It seemed easier just to agree though normally we steer well clear of preloaded scones. We’re just pernickety and like the performance of constructing our scones according to our own personal taste. On the plus side, however, we were delighted to find that they served Henry’s coffee … our long standing favourite.
Maybe the coffee influenced our experience but we really enjoyed our visit here and wondered why we hadn’t done it years ago. With its straight forward, no airs and graces, approach, we completely understand why it’s so popular. Generally you can’t eat preloaded scones without getting in a bit of a mess. The contents squidge out in all directions. However, a fork and knife helped make this one more manageable. Mind you, the light crumbly nature of the scone even made this quite tricky. Very nice though.
Unforgivable
Politics is so incomprehensible these days we are reluctant to comment on any of it. Putin’s war in Ukraine seems incomprehensible and unforgivable. Imagine if we could just go around murdering anyone who disagreed with us with seeming impunity? Goodness, that would reduce the world’s population quite considerably.
Britain and America’s slavish support for Israel also seems unforgivable. With all the anger generated it’s little wonder that George Galloway has won the Rochdale by-election. Let’s see what his acknowledged oratory skills can do for the Palestinians. Precious little we suspect.
Starvation is now a huge problem in Gaza. Who would have thought that a Jewish state would end up guilty of genocide? Perhaps Israel is being advised by Britain. The British government has form. Its God-given sense of superiority led to them having a long, if not illustrious, history when it comes to starvation. The Irish Famine in the 1850s and the Bengal Famine in 1943 in which millions died, come to mind.
Terminal boredom
On this side of the pond, the prospect of a Sunak/Starmer General Election is boring everyone to death. On the other side a Biden/Trump rerun Presidential Election is depressing everyone to death. We’ll just stay here in Powmill looking at flying machines and dreaming of things we do understand … aah, the wind in our hair!
We’re in Kirkintilloch today to see one of Pat’s aunties. She’s in her nineties and of the nine aunts and uncles on her mum’s side this aunt is the last man standing. However, we haven’t seen her since she went into a care home and we had been warned that she probably wouldn’t know who we were. Consequently we were approaching with a degree of dread, it could be a very short visit. Unfortunately we arrived just as the home was sitting down to lunch so they asked us to come back in an hour. Hence we find ourselves here in Dnisi killing time.
In spite of Pat having had several relatives in the Kirkie (as it’s known locally) this is the first time we have ventured downtown. Parking’s a nightmare! Dnisi is part of a chain which sports seven outlets across Scotland. It originated here in Kirkintilloch in 2004. Their unique selling point is “roasted in-store coffee”. Having invested in small coffee roasting machines, they actually roast their coffee on site in each venue. You can also buy the D’nisi blend to take away. On a large hessian sign pinned to the wall they also proclaim to have award winning handbaked scones . All very promising!
Overindulging
We decided to share a toasted cheese andwich and a fruit scone along with some of their special coffee. Imagine our surprise when the huge toasted sandwiched arrived on two plates with half the sandwich on each accompanied with a salad and french fries. Each plate was lunch on its own! We had just wanted a snack but it was all so delicious that it disappeared quite quickly. Then the scone! It was huge as well! Unfortunately, it too was delicious with a lovely crunchy exterior so it went the same way as the sandwich.
Together with the friendly service it might well have been a topscone had it not been quite so big and the jam and cream hadn’t been prepackaged. They are trying very hard in Dnisi, however, we would thoroughly recommend it. By the way, the coffee was good as well, Not as good as our favourite Cat’s Pyjamas, but good.
It was time to return to the nursing home so we waddled out past the grey granite drinking fountain which you can see in the title picture. At the top there is the motto of Kirkintilloch which says ‘Ca’canny but ca’awa‘. It’s in Scots but an English translation might be ‘Carry on carefully, but keep carrying on’. We might adopt that as our own motto!
Back at the nursing home, we needn’t have worried. Pat’s aunt knew us straight away. She was absolutely delighted to see us and insisted on introducing us to all her friends. It was a joyful visit!
Time?
No joy, however, elsewhere. The war in Gaza makes us feel positively sick. The situation is absolutely desperate. When we think about the causes, however, one thing seems to stand out … God! It may not be PC these days to think of Him as a Him but for the purposes of this blog He’s a bloke. The puzzling thing is that He is on both sides. Apparently about 2000 years ago He told the Jews that the land of Israel was theirs. A bit unGodlike to show favouritism but let’s accept that He did.
That would be fine it wasn’t for Him also promising the same land to the Palestinians who had been living there for thousands of years before. Isn’t it a crying shame that they didn’t have iPhones back then to record all these conversations with God! The Holy Land has always been a mess but there were people happily living there when it was just Land. God is always blessing America and that in itself should demonstrate what a deeply flawed individual He is! And three or four thousand years is but a blink of an eye in terms of time so perhaps it might help if both sides just left God out of it … He’s not helping!
Luckily we still have joyful old aunties and places like Dnisi to see us through!
We’re at the Riverside today because we are following Forth Valley Artbeat trail which is a kind of open house for local artists. It happens for one week every year. First we went to see Archie Scott at his woodturning studio in Bannockburn.We bought this beautiful little bowl which he had made out of rotten wood. Actually, it’s not as bad as it sounds. Once the tree has died fungi colonise the wood and extract nutrients from it, leaving behind dark lined patterns. The process is called spalting and our bowl is made of spalted beech wood. Archie was a lovely guy and spent ages with us explaining everything he does, it was absolutely fascinating
Harry
After our woodturning experience we carried on to Dunblane where there were more studios to visit. Before that, of course some lunch was called for and that’s how we ended up here at the Riverside. Originally it was the Stirling Arms built in1770. Robert Burns stayed here in 1787and wrote the poem ‘My Harry Was A Gallant Gay‘, It’s about HIghland Harry’s association with the local laird’s daughter, Jeannie Gordon. Nowadays, however, with Harry, Duke of Suffolk’s ongoing legal battles, we think the title might be problematic.
Pat and I usually share almost everything. Today however we are taking it a stage further and splitting everything three ways with one of our neighbours who had come with us. To stretch the tolerance of the Riverside even further we decided to do a three way split on two scones … their last fruit scone and a plain one. The staff were very understanding … everything we got came with three plates.
It was a very hot day so we sat outside on the balcony overlooking the the river, the Allan Water. Thank goodness there was a large canopy to provide shade.
The scones were quite big and came with jam and the ubiquitous Roddas Cornish clotted cream. They were very enjoyable but half way through I decided to top up my tea from the teapot. I forgot to use the strainer which was right in front of me and ended up with lots of tealeaves in my cup. Our neighbour immediately sprang into action offering to ‘read my leaves’. Goodness, we’ve been neighbours for over forty years and we had no idea she was into tasseography. Just when you thought you knew someone!
It’s all in the detail
Apparently, I am going on a long journey over water amongst many other things. She was having difficulty, however, with detail because the tealeaves were too big. Turns out the tea supplier also provides Riverside with our favourite coffee. We have reported the matter and they have promised to get scissors and cut each leaf in half. Perhaps it was fortuitous that more detail was not forthcoming. Anyway, although our scones were lovely they weren’t topscones. But if you are looking for somewhere to chill in lovely surroundings and with good food and good service, look no further than the Riverside.
Fun guys
A few yards further up the High Street from Riverside is Balhaldie House where Bonnie Prince Charlie stayed as he led his army south in his bid to regain the throne for his dad. Six months later the Duke of Cumberland was riding past Balhaldie in hot pursuit of the retreating Prince. A pot of boiling oil was thrown from an upstairs window at Balhaldie by a serving lass who had taken a wee fancy to the bonnie Prince. The Duke fell off his horse but no one was seriously hurt. It does show, however, that you can’t be too careful when you make more than political enemies. Just ask Boris Johnson or Donald Trump. Perhaps they should consider a stay at the nearby Dunblane’s Hydro Hotel. The medicinal baths are supposed to calm the nerves of the “worried well”.
When the American War of Independence started in the ironically named Concord in Massachusetts the first shot was fired from a pistol that was made where we are today. Yes, you guessed it, we are in the village of Doune, once famous for its pistol making. The first shot was fired from the American side and we are pretty sure that whoever was on the receiving end wasn’t bothered about where the gun was made. It would be ironic, however, if whoever got shot was from Scotland … or even Doune! Even more ironic if the person firing it was from Scotland as well … we like to be even handed. Today we are not thinking of starting a war but simply to visit the newly reopened Woodside Hotel.
Mosaic at the main door
Transformation
For years we have been driving past this place and been dismayed to see it become increasing dilapidated. For a few of years it lay empty. All change, however, because it was recently taken over by people who already run a couple of popular establishments in nearby Stirling and Dunblane. They’ve spent a lot of money and it shows … very pleasantly surprised as soon as we walked in the door. It has a light airy dining room, a modern bar area and a large coffee lounge.There’s also a nice cosy little snug area with a wood burning stove.
We were seated in a large bay window. A spot of brunch was the order of the day and then a scone to share. First thing we noticed was the coffee. It was fab and , of course, it turned out to be our favourite Cat’s Pyjamas from Henry’s Coffee Company. They only had fruit scones left and it turned out to be quite a spicy affair with lots of raisins, sultanas as well as things like peel that you don’t normally get. It was very nice and the spiciness was really unusual. Bit on the large side for our liking and, of course it came with the ubiquitous Rodda’s Cornish clotted cream. Not quite a topscone but delicious nevertheless.
Think we might be back here quite often because one of Pat’s favourite shops is only about 100 yards away.
Righteous and indignant
It’s a small village but Doune is famous for more than just starting far away wars. It has a castle that’s featured in Outlander, Game of Thrones, Monty Python and the Holy Grail to name but a few. It has a distillery and a huge antique centre. As well as all that it is also a favourite place for the fairy folk. They are often seen dancing on the nearby Fairy Knowe. And if you think that’s a bit far fetched, the news these days seems to be full of balloons. No, not the type we have in government! Huge Chinese ones that are floating over the US’s nuclear arsenal in Montana. Goodness, John Dutton would never have stood for that sort of thing over his Yellowstone ranch. Always amusing when governments get all righteous and indignant about others spying on them …. as if they didn’t do exactly the same!
Here’s another random scone. When you walk along Main Street in the peaceful little village of Doune, apart its rather formidable castle, you probably wouldn’t ever imagine that it was once famous for the manufacture of guns. Yet from the mid 1600s to the late 1700s pistol making was the main industry here. All that is long since gone and the reason we come here nowadays is not for guns but for dresses. Or, whenever we think we have accumulated too much money! Woodlane of Doune is an excellent ladies dress shop for sorting that problem out.
It was when Pat was in a changing room that I was asked if we were going across the road to the Buttercup Cafe afterwards. I said that we had been there recently and thought we would try and find somewhere else. “Oh, you should try James’ Coffee Bar” was the reply “It’s open air but it has a roof … and it’s not far from here.“
Being outside
We’d never heard of it. We were intrigued … open air in December? With what little money we had left we took our leave of Woodlane carrying several large bags. The ladies in the shop, however, had given us clear directions to James’ Coffee Bar so we set off to find it. It’s in the middle of nowhere on a road that we never use so that’s why we hadn’t come across it before. It sits adjacent to Stockbridge Nurseries Garden Centre and takes the form of one of those American Airstream aluminium trailers. The seating area is ‘outdoors’ but the roof is extensive and on a dull but nice day like today it was rather good to be ‘outside’.
Local products
The first thing we saw at the counter was the scones and just a few other cakes and things. Then we realised there was huge menu on the wall beside where we were standing. Eventually the order was two bacon rolls and a fruit scone to share. The girls in the trailer were delightful and soon had us sorted with everything we needed. No fine china here but, of course, in an establishment like this that would have been totally inappropriate. Our scone came in a cardboard tub along with a jar of jam, a wee tub of cream and a wooden knife. The coffee, Grumpy Mule was good but no as good as our favourite Cat’s Pyjamas. Puzzles us why people use companies hundreds of miles away while there are local products which are just as good, if not better.
Other than that we really enjoyed James’. It’s a family run enterprise born from the restrictions forced upon them by COVID. When we were finished we simply tipped everything into the appropriate recycling bins. For us it was just a little out of the ordinary and a bit of fun. We hope they go from strength to strength. Now that we know where it is the summer will doubtless see us back at James’.
Football business
For us the World Cup is proving to be not so much fun. In spite of FIFA pretending that they run and organise the event this one is pretty obviously being run by Qatar. Nothing happens without their approval. The whole thing, right down to them piping bird song into newly created parks is just a bit weird. The promised ‘greenest’ World Cup ever has proved to be a joke. Human rights seem to be another joke with all our home teams being too lily livered to wear an armband. Christiano Renaldo ‘not being sure‘ whether to accept £173m for a two year contract in Saudi perhaps illustrates all that is wrong with the modern business of football! AND, we have to have something to moan about!
For those of a delicate disposition and for those who might believe some or indeed anything on allaboutthescones, let us assure you that the dragon in the title picture isn’t real. It’s real only in the sense that it does exist. It lives round at the back after having been adopted by the owners of the Soup Dragon café. They adopted it after a festival where it had been destined for the scrap heap. The title picture is merely a confection from the writer’s rather over active imagination. So where are we?
Our kind of place
Ironically, after saying in our previous post that we had never been to Balfron we are back again. At Tír na nÓg, a holistic healing centre to be precise. In Celtic folklore it is described as an island paradise of everlasting youth, beauty, health, abundance and joy. Sounds precisely like our kind of place. All a bit weird but rather wonderful at the same time.
The courtyard with the Wishing Tree on the left
Our Trossachs correspondents had brought us to Tír na nÓg but, of course it was the Soup Dragon Café that was the main attraction. There’s loads of other things here – treatment and consultation rooms, a couple of shops as well as an animal sanctuary and enchanted forest walks.
Wishing and hoping
In the courtyard they have a Wishing Tree. We all selected a ribbon to tie to it. The ribbons all meant different things according to the colour. Pat chose blue which represents ‘spirituality, tranquility and peace‘. I thought I should have green ‘prosperity, abundance, healing and luck‘ but there were no green ones left. Orange stood for ‘creativity, self-expression, joy and vitality‘ but none of them left either … argh! I was taking so long choosing, the lady behind the counter eventually leaned over and said “it doesn’t matter which colour you choose, just make up whatever you like“. Thoroughly deflated I chose blue … same as Pat.
Having tied our ribbons and made our wishes we headed for the café to wait for them to come true. It’s quite a big place and there are tables outside in the courtyard as well. The young girl looking after us was a delight. She brought water for the table without us even asking. This being the Soup Dragon, we thought some soup would be appropriate. She said they were famous for their spicy lentil so that’s what we all had. Accompanied by home baked bread it was delicious. We were really beginning to warm to this place.
Unanimous
Eventually, after some other stuff to eat, it was the turn of the scones. Pat and I were sharing one between us because the soup and lunch had been quite substantial. Our friends were doing the same. The scones came with nice little pots of jam and cream as well as a wee plastic pot of Danish butter. It would have been nice if the butter had been Scottish but heyho! When you look at all the kiddies starving in Afghanistan we should just be counting our blessings rather than moaning about trifles like butter. The scones were still warm from the oven and tasted wonderful. Just the right consistency and with that slight crunch that we like. A unanimous topscone, well done the Soup Dragon Café.
Curiosity
Meanwhile the café had filled up and the courtyard tables were also taken. Our girl turned out to be the only person there other than the chef. She was coping fantastically well. Earlier I had noticed a rather enticing cake which was labelled “snickerdoodle”. Curiosity sparked, I asked what it was. She explained that it had been made earlier by the chef but that she had completed it with the butter icing. It had to be done. We ordered one slice and four forks.
Then the problem was that two of us had almost finished our coffees but neither wanted another full cup in spite of it being Henry’s, our favourite. We asked for an Americano to share. No problem. However, rather than having us messing around trying to split a coffee she appeared with two small cups, brilliant. We have had some grim waitressing experiences recently so it really was an absolute pleasure to be served by this girl. The snickerdoodle cake was nice but although the icing was expertly done it was a little on the sweet side for our taste. Curiosity satisfied though!
A shelf of things for sale
Eternal youth
Gosh, the Prime Minister of Finland may have to resign because she has been photographed dancing. They really need to try a bit of British politics if they want to know what serious partying is all about. Wouldn’t it be great if the world was a bit more Tír na nÓgish and the people were more like the girl at the Soup Dragon. Not sure how much faith we can place in all this candles and crystals stuff but suffice to say that by the time we were leaving Tír na nÓg we did feel a lot more joyous than when we went in. Not sure about the eternal youth … we’ll let you know.
When Robert Louis Stevenson wrote “Treasure Island” he may have been thinking of the place we are in today. He certainly was when he wrote “Memoirs of an Islet” and the poem “A Good Boy”. We know this because his ill health meant he spent much of his childhood years in this small spa town. Later when he was living in Hyères in the South of France he wrote “I shall never forget the days at Bridge of Allan; they were one golden dream”. Yes, we are in Bridge of Allan, not to take the waters but rather the scones at the Westerton Arms.
Footballers
How times have changed! Seems odd nowadays to think that, in Victorian times, whole towns grew up around a spring. There was nothing particularly special about the water apart from the fact that it was clean; something we now simply take for granted. Wealthy Victorians would flock to these towns for their health benefits. You can see echoes of this past everywhere in Bridge of Allan. Lots of green spaces and grand mansion houses that, nowadays, are largely the preserve of obscenely overpaid footballers. By the way, if you look to the left of the title picture, you can see the Paterson Memorial clock … nothing to do with us! The Paterson in question was a local doctor who served the local community for many years.
The Westerton Arms began life in 1831, almost twenty years before Stevenson was born. He, like us, may well have come here for a scone? Although almost 170 years old it is surprisingly fresh and modern inside and would appear to be undergoing still more refurbishment. The staff were very welcoming and soon had us kitted out with some excellent lunch.
Reasons to go to Samoa?
They brought our coffee while we waited for our scones and lo-and-behold it was our favourite from Henry’s Coffee Company. It doesn’t get much better than this so things were looking very promising. Unfortunately, it didn’t continue. The scones (£2.95 each) were decidedly average and served with American jam and French butter … quelle dommage! The scone itself was a fairly lifeless affair. When we expressed our disappointment we were told that all the other cakes were made in their own kitchen but they didn’t know where the scones came from?? Maybe this is why Robert Louis Stevenson left Scotland and ended up in Samoa?
Holding your breath
The Pope, on his recent visit to Greece, has scolded almost all western leaders over their treatment of immigrants. Likewise Tony Blair has been scolding the same leaders over their handling of the coronavirus pandemic. Neither Tony or Francis have the power to do anything about anything so it’s easy for them to go off on one! Will their words effect any change? Don’t hold your breath!
ps: The next day we got a lovely surprise when one of our neighbours popped in with some scones. If only the scones the day before had been as good as these they would have been topscones.
Back in 2019 Pat ran a MacMillan Coffee Morning and raised over £500 which we thought was absolutely tremendous. Last year, of course, it was cancelled because of COVID. This year she thought she would try again. It’s easy to agreed to run one of these events in April when September is still almost six months away. Suddenly, however, it’s September and you realise that there is a lot involved in getting such an event off the ground …. aaaargghh!
The MacMillan organisation has given our family much appreciated support over the years. So, no matter how much is involved, we feel almost duty bound to try and repay in some small way. The MacMillan Coffee Mornings are a very pleasurable way of doing exactly that.
Lion poo
invitations were distributed round the neighbourhood over a fortnight ago but would anybody come … that was the question? Of course they did and yesterday our house was packed to bursting.
One of the nice things about these events is that fact that people are so happy to help in any way they can. Cakes galore appeared as if by magic as did biscuits, tarts and all sorts of other goodies. Folk also brought plants and things to sell or use as raffle prizes … amazing! We even had a box of lion poo to raffle!
And guess what, one guest even brought a whole tray of homebaked scones … yeah! The house was stuffed with people and while Pat and I mingled our friends worked themselves to te bone making sure everything went like clockwork We are so lucky! I even had time to sample the scones. They all looked great, just the right size and soft with just a hint of crustiness on the exterior. Together with apple jelly and whipped cream they would have been an easy topscone had it not been for the fact that none of our readers will ever be able to sample them. That’s not a whole lot of use so we’ve had to leave them as ‘uncategorised’. Fab sconesthough
Generosity
We’ve left out carping about politicians in this post because this is much more important … they can wait for our disgruntlement. At the moment we are very happy, because it was a wonderful couple of hours. To us it reaffirmed just how wonderful people are! Either by helping in all sorts of ways but also by their extraordinary generosity. MacMillan Coffee Mornings were going being held all over the world at the same time as ours. If you consider that our relatively modest event has raised the amazing amount £1,250 so far there must have been a lot of money donated to MacMillan yesterday. And quite right too! If any readers feel like contributing even more you can use this QR code.The winner of the lion poo just cannot believe his luck!
