Tog Tags

The idea has been put forward that all older people should be tagged and kept track of using modern GPS equipment. The charity, Help the Aged, thinks this might be a good idea. It means the families of these silly old duffers and duffettes will have piece of mind knowing should their Togg wander off a quick phone call will result in COT* Squad rounding the offending wrinkly up and returning them to whatever Home for the Bewildered they have escaped from.
I can only think of my mother who would on occasion vanish for days or even a week only to return with her winnings from Reno or whatever high stakes Bingo game she had spotted advertised in the paper.
On the other hand I can see a special switchboard being needed for all the calls from the Toggs themselves. As someone who on the same day found the sugar inthe fridge, the hammer in the cupboard and the butter in the shed I think it might be a useful tool. No more standing in the middle of a shop wondering why I was there, one quick phone call and I can get an answer to the question I ask myself everyday,
'Where am I now?'
'Have I been here long?'
and of course
'Do I come here often?'

*Containment of Toggs

Molly at work.

Molly at rest.

Meg and Molly.

Meg, the bewildered dog this blog is named after.

Daffs are Naff?

Apparently the daffodil is past it, they aren't exciting or fashionable enough. It seems the Fashionista think they can now dictate what flowers we are supposed to like. Funny but I don't remember asking anyone to tell me what flowers I should like.
The daffodil may not be exotic or rare and maybe it is the fact they are so commonplace that opens them up to criticism by people who are looking for the next visual thrill.
But daffodils are more than just a flower. Even as the pale and icy snowdrops are gracing the floor of the woods in the last dark days of winter the first fronds of the wild narcissi are pushing through the soil.
In the garden the first slender leaves of the daffodils are showing.
Within a few weeks there is a carpet of yellow trumpets across the forest floor while the huge King Alfreds are starting to make their bold and brassy statement of springs arrival.
The daffs in March are bright yellow, the sort of yellow used to advertise easter. They are big and bold and have a 'Come on if your man enough' attitude to the cold, wind, rain of march.
Into April and the daffs are smaller, paler matching the warming, lengthening days. Their more delicate appearance marks the changing season.
The daffs tiny cousin, narcissi, joins the display.
Together the yellows and and oranges of the daffs and narcissi bob in the sunshine and breeze. Sometimes it seems like they are dancing joyfully, celebrating Spring.
So daffs may be naff, they may be old fashioned and even passe to certain people. They are sort of people who don't understand and can't appreciate that daffodils are more than just a flower.