Why not?

Now I think I’ve spoken before about my friend who is Blind in New Zealand who adopted the attitude of saying ‘why not’ instead of ‘why’ when an opportunity arises.  I made a pact with myself to also do the same thing when I got on the plane in 2015 and went to live in Wales with my lovely husband.  It was scary, but it has been such an adventure.  This week had a lot of ‘why not’s’

I’m not sure where I got this from, but thought it quite apt about my busy week. It may be borrowed from Facebook. For those of you having trouble reading it, it says ‘If you quit now…you’ll end up right back where you first began. And when you first began, you were desperate to be where you are RIGHT NOW. KEEP GOING!’ Love it!

We started the week with the celebration of the Armistice for World War One.  Having represented a Military Charity in the past, and a great Uncle who was Prisoner of War in World War Two, I feel attending is the least I can do.  My double edged sword is that my Dad died on Armistice Day.  So even though I don’t really feel sad for the soldiers that gave their lives for my freedom, I do feel incredibly sad about my Dad.  Missing him is something I wear, like a coat, every day.  I’m sure he would have been amused to know he died on a public holiday nearly everywhere in the world, except New Zealand. So enough said about that.  We went along to the  Service at the Cenotaph in Front Street, Hamilton, and managed to get our photo taken ending up on page three of Bernews.  That link got sent off to Mum for her scrapbook.  Luckily it wasn’t the army cadet who was in front of me texting right through the two minutes silence.  Hmmph.  It’s at quite a civilized time here, gathering about ten-thirty for speeches and wreath laying, then once it’s over it’s lunch time.  In New Zealand we have the dawn parade on Anzac Day.  So there’s usually a frost, everyone has to be there before the canon booms at six in the gloomy dark.  It’s quite something as the sun comes up and the birds start their dawn chorus, then fly off startled by the gun salute.  Then we all go off to breakfast.  I’m told there’s a dawn parade here in Bermuda, so I’ll definitely have to find out about that one.

Next we were invited to the Governor’s lunch at Pier Six, which was very nice.  I met some lovely people including the Governor of Bermuda himself.  The Governor wears a hat adorned with ostrich feathers that is very ceremonial here, but I was so pleased he wasn’t wearing it, I do have trouble keeping a straight face.  It must be terribly hot to wear. The lovely gentleman who starred on the front page of the Royal Gazette was there, covered in medals for service in Word War Two, the Korean War, and the Suez Crisis.  He told me later that he was a bit tired of all the sitting around and a certain piece of his anatomy was numb.  There were two ministers of the clergy there, and I chatted to one about snorkeling and, well, you know how I get it wrong sometimes? I said ‘I can’t imagine you de-frocked in your bathers snorkeling’ and I think he nearly choked on his drink.  I also told him we often have lunch outside his church. My lovely husband told me later, with tears running down his cheeks, that I had the wrong church.  Oh okay.  I’m still fairly new here.  It was a great honour to be invited, and the chef made a fantastic job of my no-milk request, delicious!  As we left the Minister put his hat on, and I had to keep another straight face.  It’s not my fault, it’s just so different than what I’m used to! Oh dear.

Here is an image of a prior Bermuda Governor wearing the traditional hat: https://images.app.goo.gl/sTA8GrU4QQuRkvAm7

My husband’s work had an evening meeting that I like to attend.  It’s nice to be included, but got there a little later than usual because I had to do some shopping first. I said hello to everyone and then thought, I’ll just pop to the ladies before it starts.  When I got down the corridor, I could here someone calling out ‘help, help is anyone out there?!’.  An older, very frail lady had locked the toilet door and could not manage to unlock it again.  She was well and truly stuck, and no amount of instruction was going to help get that door unlocked.  I reassured her, sized up the gap, and then thought, yeah, nah.  I went to get the office lady who was a lot smaller than me and broke the news that she had to crawl under the toilet door, unlock it from the inside, and save the day.  After the initial ‘No way’, with lots of kitchen roll lining the floor, and ensuring it had been ‘flushed’ in there, she went under.  Well it pays to be tiny and bendy, because the stuck lady was ever so grateful, and got to take part in the meeting after all.  The poor office lady was a bit grossed out, and went home for a shower.

Later in the week we had a Charity meeting which was held at the very beautiful and glitzy gilded everywhere you can see, Coco Reef Hotel. This included another delicious meal.  It used to be a training college for Chefs, a bit like our Polytechnic Training Restaurant that was in my home town, or the Oyster Catcher on Anglesea, but on a much grander scale.  Budding Chefs cooked for the public practicing their skills, and when it was closed someone bought the building, covered it in gold and turned it into a hotel.  Coco Reef is one of Bermuda’s sought after stays right on the pink sand of South Shore.  Everything is gold, if it can be, it’s very impressive.  Now prices are variable in Bermuda, so we didn’t drink much because two glasses of red wine cost BMD$28.00.  Eeek!  We could buy two bottles at the Supermarket for that!  After being so good milk-wise earlier in the week, I spied the triple chocolate gateau to die for, and literally troughed a small piece.  I am paying for it today, but I have to tell you it was worth every mouthful. It left me wondering how long it’s been since I’ve eaten something like that, and I think possibly fifteen years.  Occasionally I just have to remind myself why I don’t, sigh.  

Now today I asked for the car, and raced my husband into his work, went to the laundry to get a load of washing done, and then went off to St George’s.  I had a cunning plan.  There’s a printer there, and I wanted to try popping some of my wee drawings onto cards.  I had already emailed them, and was dismayed that I only got half of the link when sending the drawings through.  Never the less they found them via a photo I had taken.  I always take a photo of my screen now when I do anything that seems complicated on my computer, it has saved the day many times.  Today it allowed them to access the link, download my drawings, and print up some lovely little cards for me.  I’ll start a new page with the cards and what they look like.  I can’t sell them here in Bermuda, but if you live here and would like some, I can always accept a donation……as for the rest of you, I’ll sort a price, heh heh. I’ll get that organized next week.  My lovely husband said ‘You will need about two dozen pictures first, people like choice’.  Maybe, but the four I have took me forever.  Anyway you can all let me know what you think.

Then it was off back home, to hang out the washing now the sun was out, actually twenty-eight degrees and terribly muggy.  That was futile, it’s still hanging there wet as.  I had one hour to get all my Christmas pressies to New Zealand wrapped, sorted, put into mailing bags and then race back to the Post Office to send them off.  The last day for Christmas post was here already and after the rushing about I’ve done this week, I would have been devastated to miss the deadline.  When I got to the Post Office there was a queue, and people were huffing and sighing.  It’s inevitable here, there’s usually only one teller on in St George’s, and everyone, like me races to get there before closing time.  My shopping bag full of parcels made the Post Mistress frown, but I think I impressed her with my organizational skills, declaration forms all completed.  I was still informed that she had wanted to leave in nine minutes and there would now be no hope.  Well that’s not my fault there was a queue when I got there now is it.  ‘Why didn’t you come earlier girl?’ Good grief, I was still making the presents!

Back to Hamilton to pick up my lovely husband.  He asked how my day had been and that suddenly reminded me of the ad on tele of the lady that woke up and yawned, her day flashing like a film strip, then the caption ‘just another day with nothing much to do’.  I think that was for Berocca. The question that’s always asked here when I meet new people, ‘so what do you do?’ Er, not much really, lol.

More soon – Sally



  1. I would so like to have seen and heard you imagining the priest defrocked and in his bathers! Sally, you make my day!
    You seem to have a lot of lovely men in your life?
    The ceremonial hat with ostrich feathers? I can imagine trying to keep a straight face.
    NZ has Prince Charles and Camilla here for a flying visit. A Herald headline announced their arrival – then said “who cares?” I feel the same way about royal pomp and hoo-hah as you do about the ostrich feathers. A mixture of trying to keep a straight face and “who cares?”
    A bit double dutch? Yeah, but you git my drift, eh?
    Keep it coming girl.

    Liked by 1 person

    • I love your enthusiasm Dianne. It’s important to note though, that I do care sincerely about other cultures traditions and ceremonies, but as you say sometimes the significance of it evades me. And its not so different to feathered cloaks and bag pipes, in the global scheme of things!


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