Ara Murray

Recently I had a WhatsApp message : "Hi mum, it's your daughter here. I've broken my phone and need you to send money so I can get it fixed."  I don't remember having a daughter.
An email once came from the UK tax office telling me I was owed a tax refund. I knew I wasn't and they used my personal email address and not the one I use for banking, government departments etc.
One we used to get frequently was a phone call telling us there was something wrong with our computer. Mr Ara would just say he didn't have one but one time I replied: "Oh yes, and you're going to tell me unless I pay you lots of money my computer will stop working." The person on the phone replied: "Er no." and put the phone down.
I liked the calls that asked me to confirm my address because my response was: "You called me, you tell me."

My goodness, I didn't realise I'd had so many scam messages as that's not all of them.

The first version of this that I heard was supposed to have occurred before the Berlin wall came down with a man cycling from west to east every month. Some years later, the cyclist was told by a former guard that they knew that he was smuggling but not what.

Unlike Nancy, above, we do have leftover roast potatoes in our house. I love them sliced and fried the next day. Unfortunately, I do not have a very good recipe for them. When young, our children complained about my roast potatoes as they were "not as nice as daddy's". Somehow his have a lovely crispy outside and fluffy inside but even if I try and make them the same way, they turn out differently.

Snowdrops in January mean winter is losing its grip. Hazel catkins in February mean spring is on its way. Crocuses and the sound of the first lawnmowers in late February mean spring is round the corner. By mid March when the skylarks are singing, there are masses of daffodils and Mr Ara gives up wearing socks, yes, it's spring. Yes, there will still be frosts here for at least another month but winter can't win.

Where do I start? Perhaps it should be with the cheeses I don't like: parmesan being the most disliked.
As for favourites, well, there's Cambozola (blue brie), Wensleydale - a crumbly white cheese, delicious with rich fruit cakes like Christmas cake. The latter cheese can also be found with apricots or cranberries added to it which are also very tasty. One I like but haven't met anyone else who does is brunost, (from Norway)  which is light brown and has a sweet caramel and savoury salty taste at the same time. Tiny portions are enough and I eat it on its own rather than with bread or crackers.
I have only ever made soft cheeses like ricotta and crowdie, the Scottish soft white cheese but maybe one day when I'm not doing anything else, I'll have a go at hard cheeses.

At school we learned a particular form of cursive writing although I have modified mine over the years. When I was a student, other students in my class would ask to borrow my notes to photocopy (showing my age here) if they had missed a class because I could write quickly, neatly and legibly in cursive. If they saw my writing now they would be horrified as it has degenerated into a barely legible scrawl. My parents and I used to write to each other every week once I left home and they both wrote using a similar form of cursive. Interestingly, my father's script looked neater at a distance but my mother's was easier to read.

My latest update on shovel breakers: yesterday I found a handleless shovel in the garden. It was another one left behind by the previous owner. She certainly knew how to break her tools.

Sara, your comment about my garden being wonderfully diverse made me look at it differently as I had never considered that before. I have never been a "straight lines" gardener and have always mixed my veg and flowers. I suppose I am just following the traditions of cottage gardens or the French potager. I don't always think before I plant, however, and sometimes mix plants which are not good companions but it's all a learning experience.

Mr Ara and I were discussing bucket lists recently; he doesn't have one and I have only one thing on mine. I would like to see the sun rise out of the sea. I have seen it sink into the sea but not the other way round. I think it will have to be in winter so I don't have to get up too early. It doesn't sound very exciting so maybe I'm just a boring person.

The latest in the saga of my shovel breaking (well, another fork, actually) was the other day when Mr Ara asked me if I had noticed that the handle on my favourite fork was loose. I hadn't. It's all his fault though, because he left his mattock behind at our last house (he thought we wouldn't need it here as it's just an "ordinary" garden) and I have been using the fork (so has he) to try and remove the roots of some dead roses. I didn't tell him I'd also used it to pry a stone out of the soil too. Should I own up?