Faith's Blog

Harrogate cont. - Valley Gardens

2009-10-13T14:36:00.009+01:00

Tuesday 13th October

In my previous blog (first blog about Harrogate) I forgot to mention that Bettys tea rooms have a website http://www.bettysbypost.com/ in case you want to have a drool!

The Valley Gardens are English Heritage Grade II listed gardens, and have a woodland area knows as the Pinewoods - all in all covering about 17 acres.

These exquisite gardens contain a larger number of mineral springs than any other known place. (I think there is about 87 in Harrogate, not all in the gardens, I assume) Most of these had its own little building - where no doubt in days gone by ladies and gentleman gathered to take the waters.

In my previous blog I put up a copy of the Prescribed Daily Routine - just in case you couldn't read it, this was how the day went:

7.00 - 8.00am Rise and visit Pump Room for first tumbler of water.

7.00-8.15 am Walk about, listening to the band.

8.15am Take second tumbler of water.

8.15 -9.00 am Listen to the band and if prescribed take third glass of water.

9.00 am Breakfast. For some people it is advisable that they drive, either by omnibus, carriage or bath chair but the walk home can be advantageous if it can be accomplished without undue fatigue. Care should be taken to avoid exertion.

10.00-11.00 am Morning paper or letter writing.

11.00 am Shopping/Walk/Listen to band/or Bath

11.30 am Second visit to Pump Room

1.00pm Rest for half an houjr.

1.30pm Lunch to be followed by one hour of rest.

Afternoon. Driving, walking, cycling, golfing or third visit to the Pump Room. Afternoon tea in gardens, listening to the band.

7.00pm Dinner.

Concert Room.

10.00 pm Bed.

For some patients massage is better than exercise.

***

You'd need to factor in lots of loo breaks wouldn't you, drinking all that water!

The basic recommended length for the 'cure' was for a period of not less than three weeks for 'permanent bnefit to be gained' and to be followed in some instances by a further visit to the seaside. I'm not quite sure what the waters were supposed to 'cure' you of!

I walked through the Valley Gardens and through the Pinewoods - there was a wonderful fresh smell, I don't think you can smell anything fresher than damp pine-needles, crushed under foot. This touching Great War Memorial is at the entrance to the woods.

I brought back a postcard of this statue. I collect postcards from places I've been - write on the back, and tuck them into my books - and always have a lovely surprise and a memory of places when they drop 'unexpectedly' out of a book when I open it after months or even years!

There's an excellent children's playground and an exclusive model boating pond - you don't often see one of those. The gardens tea room was packed, as the weather was mild and golden.ely.

The town won a gold award in the large town category - RHS awards 2009 and also received a special discretionary public parks award for the Valley Gardens. The flowers were still blooming beautifully in October.

All in all, well worth a visit if you can make it, and if you can go and have the company of some special purple people, then even better!

ps Previous post on Harrogate can be found in the archive - see right.

The end

Harrogate

2009-10-12T16:13:00.011+01:00

12th October 09

My blog is mainly photos - a taste of Harrogate, as I saw it. A lovely little compact town - as Tiggy said 'If you get lost you just keep going round in a circle and then you find you're where you wanted to go!'

I very much enjoyed exploring the town, and the evenings were wonderful with the Cooers - great company and excellent food (thanks to Kitty for booking the venues).

Views from my 6th floor Holiday Inn bedroom window

Town buildings

The theatre, a little street and the kind of shop I like to browse in! There was another wonderful shop called Space selling vintage/retro items. I walked around thinking I remember that! I bought a cushion for the vintage nursery I am creating for the coming baby - made from vintage fabric (supposedly) with pictures of Noddy on it - love it! I was tempted by other goodies but remembered I had to lug it all home on the train. Lucky Tiggy and I didnt end up at a car boot - we both rummaged in the charity shops and bought a few treasures.

The Pump Room Museum - disappointingly small, but I did get to try the waters - whiffy eggy sulphur smell, but the taste is not too unpleasant and rather salty. The water is free but they sell you a Harrogate toffee for 10p to take the taste away! I expect the Prescribed Daily Routine will be rather small for you to read - I'll write some of it down for you in the next blog. I don't think those 'taking the cure' had a very ardous day.

Outside and inside of a lovely little tea-room where I had breakfast on Saturday morning.

Not as lovely as the famous Betty's though...but that's an expensive treat, I had a very delicious pot of fragrant, amber coloured tea there on Saturday afternoon with a sliver of Lemon Torte for £6.95 It was very pleasant inside Betty's but I didn't find it relaxing having tea with a long queue of people outside the door. I was lucky - the woman in charge came down the queue and as I was alone whisked me in.... the young couple I had been talking to came in half an hour later, as I was leaving. They said they came once a month and felt it was worth the queue.

I actually preferred the bakery and shop section - people queue for that too! I wanted to take home some of the beautifully made little pumpkin cakes, but they would've been stale before I saw my girls. Tattie and I discussed how to make them - if you have a go Tattie, let us know how they turned out. I bought a small chocolate bear for my eldest daughter, and a pack of chocolate pigs for my youngest, and a beautifully decorated round box of Betty's chocolate peppermint creams and a book, the story of Betty's - 'Hearts, Tarts and Rascals'. These last two I'll give to my eldest daughter at her baby shower in November - she loves Betty's! And for me and him I brought home a sweet tin tea caddy, decorated with tea-pots containing Betty's African and Assam teas.

Betty's pumpkin cakes - filled with sponge and buttercream. So sweet!

To be cont asap........ with pics of the Valley Gardens - a very beautiful place.

Robin and Friend

2009-08-19T19:59:00.006+01:00

Robin always flutters round making himself very visible in the mornings when I come back from feeding the doves*., as if to say 'My turn, my turn!' I keep special robin food for him and always put it down in a little spot between the door-step and the hedge. Recently I noticed the food seemed to be going down very quickly and was beginning to think that Robs was a bit of little piggie, until I found the culprit!

One time I went out and Robs was just standing there waiting for Mousie to finish eating - but of course by the time I got my camera both had vanished!

The End.

*see my dove blog if you want to know more about my doves http://faithsdoves2.blogspot.com/

Hour-Glass

2009-07-24T08:01:00.005+01:00

Friday 24.7.09

Bring your middle finger and thumb together to form a circle.....that's how big my mother's ankles are now. 'Death is nothing at all' starts the popular reading at funerals............... Well, death might not be, but dying is a big deal, if you die as slowly as my mother. Maybe not for her, I don't really know, but definitely for us. It is a Sword of Damocles hanging over us. I don't know if it is worse being at home waiting for 'THE Phone-call', jumping every time the phone rings, or there, dreading going into the room in case she's gone, standing stock-still and watching to see if, yes, her chest is going up and down.

The sister my mother lives with, A, has gone away for a week on a trip planned a long time ago, to tie in with her grand-daughters' swimming competitions. We never thought that when our mother came out of hospital, after three weeks or so there, and she was so desperately low, poorly and emaciated that we would have to sort out arrangements for her care while A was away. My sister, V, and I agreed to share it - with me doing the first half.

I arrived last Saturday afternoon, with A still there at her house, in a tizz and panicking as she still hadn't packed. 'I have no clothes!' she annouced, flapping about. This women has more clothes than you and I put together, and at least 100 pairs of shoes (I counted them - all in boxes!) so I wasn't worried that she wouldn't be able to throw a few outfits together and sent her upstairs to pack, saying she couldn't have any supper til she had! I'd brought the supper down with me, to save her the trouble, and prepared to cook it.

Mummy has not eaten since Friday 10th July and as it is Friday today that's two weeks without food, so she doesn't have to be catered for. I can hardly believe that someone in her state can live so long, without any nutrition whatsoever.

My eldest sister's son, and his wife, were in the area and phoned to ask if they could visit. Of course, A said yes, but a visit lasting an hour and a half put her packing on hold, and eventually she didn't leave til 9pm with an hour and a half drive in front of her.

I hadn't fully appreciated what it would be like when she left. One minute she was there, in a whirl of last minute discussions on the feeding of her fish, and the weird and wonderful ways of how her washing machine works.... and then she was gone and I was left alone in a big, empty house, in a quiet area, with a dying woman.

At some point while I was there I had a phone conversation with my eldest daughter, and she said 'But she's still your mother'........ yes, but she doesn't really seem like my mother now. My mother bustled about, made cakes, and loved babies. The person that I was left alone with has no personality left, or only the tiniest amount. She cannot see or hear very well - she can't read, watch tv, have a chat, or do anything for herself at all - other than hold a tissue. It seems to comfort her to hold a tissue and occasionally, very slowly, bring it up to her face and dab her lips.

A recent complication has been the production of lots of phlegm - sometimes white and bubbly, sometimes yellow and stringy. We have to get a tissue or one of the lemon-flavoured mouth swabs and sort of wind the phlegm out of her mouth. Yes, disgusting, I know.

This is what she looks like. Her hair, dyed to the last, is growing out, so she has an inch or so strip of white hair, and then the soft brown. Her arched eyebrows - she had lovely eyebrows - have faded. The skin is white over her nose, and mottled brown or a purpley-colour around her eyes, which are only open, when she's awake, like tiny slits. Her lips have shrivelled and shrunk so her teeth protrude, yellow, brown and greyish. Of course she doesnt wear her dentures now, so they are many gaps. Even her ear-lobes have shrivelled. She always had slim legs - now they are just bones covered with skin with purple patches and big brown areas. Her heels are purplish too and she has to wear heel-caps made of some sort foam substance and has a pillow or a folded over flannel between her knees to keep them from rubbing. There is a sore open area just above her bottom and this has a dressing on it - as has one elbow. She's not looking good I can tell you! Her stomach, at one time not so long ago, quite bulgy and palpable is now like a once blown up balloon that has now gone down. Her hip bones just out frighteningly. Seeing her undressed, in that few moments while her nightie is changed, is like seeing the living dead.

However God hasn't seen fit to claim her yet, and we do all we can to make her comfortable.

She is not in pain, although she complains when she is moved, as she has patches, stuck onto the back of her shoulder (so she can't pick them off!), delivering pain-relief night and day. She only has been having sips of water and in fact can't suck now. She was using a straw stuck into her special beaker, but now we have to quickly tip a very small amount of water into her mouth. And that starts off the phlegm every time. When awake she is mostly peaceful, just lying there, but sometimes she does beg for water.... and this is the problem.....more on that in a minute.

So, A had left, it was 9pm and I was alone, except for my beloved little Yorkie dog. Thank goodness I had him, a warm, wriggling little companion. At home we go to bed at 10pm, due to my husband's work hours, and my doggie is used to this, so I thought I might as well just get ready and go to bed. I took him out for a last wee, and turning the lights off downstairs, got myself arranged in my sister's (four poster) bed - with Yorkie in a nest of blankets on the bed with me. I had checked Mummy and she was asleep. My sister normally leaves a low light on in her (Mummy's room) and both doors, which are across the landing from each other, open, so that she can Mummy if she calls in the night. I had previously decided that I wouldn't be going in during the main part of the night and would wear my ear plugs. You may think this is cruel, but I do not function well if I am up and down all night, so I didnt put a light on in Mummy's room and shut her door. For the two hours from 10pm to midnight I tossed and turned and couldnt sleep with the dread of what the morning might bring, but eventually drifted off, waking on the hour, every hour. Yorkie woke me up at 5 as the light streamed in through my sister's thin curtains and I took him down to the garden for a wee before I checked on Mummy. I felt tired from lack of sleep and horrible dreams. Then the moment couldn't be put off - I shut the dog in the kitchen and went upstairs. I can't describe my feelings as I tried to softly turn the handle of the bedroom door. There is a creak in the floorboards just at the entrance, and I forgot, and trod on it, and the creak startled me. I walked in and the room, having thicker curtains, was still in semi-darkness. I determined not to look at the bed til I had drawn them from one window; the one straight ahead from the door. I drew them very slowly, trying not to knock off the ornaments on the sill and the family photos on the nearby little table. Then reluctantly I turned and looked at the very still, very ill, almost dead looking figure in the bed. Her face gives nothing away - she could almost be dead from her face - you have to look at her chest. It rose and fell. Thankfully, I went down, made myself some tea, rescued the dog, and we both went back to bed for another couple of hours - though I only dozed.

Mummy slept on til the carers came at their usual time of 10.30-10.45 ish. I went up with them and one of them, looking at Mummy, immediately said to me 'Have you called the doctor?'.... No, I said, what could the doctor do? Then I added 'The Matron's supposed to be coming on Monday'....Oh, said the carer, she won't last til Monday! The other carer said nothing. Not wanting to discuss it over Mummy, I said we'd talk when they finished and I went downstairs to let them get on with washing and changing her. The dog barks the whole time anyone is in the house and its very annoying.

When they came down I said I would call the doctor if they felt I should do so. The carer now seemed to think that Mummy had regained some colour, and vaguely said 'Well, you've got our numbers if you need us......' That was true. My sister had carefully laid out all the numbers of the carers, the health centre, the matron's emergency number.... and the undertakers.

The carers come in pairs and make up a team - you tend to get the same two for a few days and then another two. They vary in age from 20's to 50's. The next day one of the younger girls said to me 'She keeps asking for water - do you give her water?'..... I felt like exploding 'Of course we bloody do! She's our mother! ..... and if we hadn't given her water she'd be dead long since!' but I said, calmly, 'Yes, when she asks for water, we give it to her'.

The matron didn't come on Monday but Mummy seemed much the same. We check on her at least once an hour, and more if she is wakeful. If she is awake, we sit with her and hold her hand. There is little point talking much as she then says 'I can hear you talking but I can't hear what you are saying'. Sometimes she says that even when you are not talking. The bed she is on has a special mattress and that hums so she might be hearing that I suppose - or noises from outside.

But back to Sunday, and by the afternoon I felt pretty lonesome and low. There is nothing much to do in someone else's house when you have done the minimal housework required. I watched more TV than I usually do, going through the programme and marking things of interest - something I never do at home. My 'dongle' for the laptop didnt work very well, and doing the smallest thing like checking emails took about an hour, so I gave up on it. I'd brought books, magazines and plenty of chocolate and desserts, so just read and ate sweet stuff. I watched Songs of Praise which I like but rarely see....... and some of the hymns made me cry so was feeling very down. Talking to my husband on the phone helped a bit, but the evening was drawing on and darkness and the dreaded night was looming.

I made Mummy comfortable for the night. Now she is not eating there are no bowel movements, so it makes the task of changing her nappy much less awkward and unpleasant. I actually don't really mind yucky jobs. She is difficult to move, though light, as she is so stiff but so frail. Again I didnt go in during the night, and had the ho

........................ at exactly this point as I wrote my blog, my sister phoned to say that Mummy had died a while before........I've spent the day down there and will finish the blog tomorrow maybe. I'm glad my mother is now at peace.

The Best News in the World!

2009-06-22T21:28:00.005+01:00

I've known the secret for nine long weeks, but I wasn't allowed to tell! My eldest daughter gave her dad the best Father's Day ever on Sunday but telling him that she is well over three months pregnant. She told me when she was only about four weeks and as she didn't really believe it was true,she was so reluctant to let anyone know in case the pregnancy didn't progress. But it has, and all is well according to the scan. And I am going to be a grandma - I can't tell you how happy I am!

I bought the above Silvercross pram at the little bric a brac market we have monthly in the Church Hall. I knew my daughter was planning on telling this last weekend and then, there was the pram, parked outside the hall, and looking very like the Silvercross pram I had had for her as a baby. It just seemed meant! Hers was much bigger - and it had a complete white body, and navy hood and trim. I paid £40 for that pram in 1979, buying it secondhand (or third or whatever hand it was) and that was complete with all the mattress and white broderie anglais bedding. £40 seemed quite a lot of money then, but it was a smashing pram - so big, with a shopping tray underneath. We had an enormous hall in the house I was living in with her dad - it was as big as a living room and I could just push the pram in and leave it there without it being in anyone's way. I sold it a year later when we bought her a pushchair (no buggies then!) for the same price as I paid for it. The pram I bought the other day also dates from the 70's, according to the lady I brought it from. She said she'd used it for her children, and her grandchildren but now had to sell. I only paid £30 which is nothing really - I shall keep it at mine to proudly push my little grandchild round the village!

The print is called Baby Mine and I think the artist's name is Morrison Fisher. It's dated 1915. I bought it at a car boot a few weeks ago for £4 and intend to have it framed as I think it is quite sweet.

My mother (who incidentally was born the year after the picture was painted, in 1916) is still with us, and is home from hospital. It was quite tricky getting her home as Social Services had got it into their head that my sister 'couldn't cope' - and insisted we take up one of two options. 1 - to put Mummy into a nursing home that they would find or 2 - to have carers come in twice a day. Both of these options would have to be funded by Mummy. Now, the money was not the problem - if we had wanted to take either option up, there is money enough but we (and that's all of us 4 sisters, and others, in the family) felt we wanted to cope on our own, at least initially. And also we don't like being told what we must do for our own mother, by someone who has never even met her! Mind you, having 2 carers come in twice a day adds up to about £400 a week which soon comes to a great deal of money as weeks go into months, maybe. Briefly, I talked calmly to the SS man to make him realise that we could cope and he said he must talk to the hospital meeting. Later it was agreed that we could have our own mother back to the home she has been living in for the last 4 years if we agreed to have the community nurse visit, and accept the services of the incontinence team. Of course we had no objections to these two suggestions, and awaited the return of Mummy by ambulance. It was a long hot day. Despite them saying how urgently the bed was needed, and giving us several times during the day, our mother didn't arrive back until 6.30 pm that evening. She moaned and cried as she was hauled upstairs by the non too careful ambulance team, and back in her lovely aqua and cream bedroom she fell asleep and slept for 15 hours.

I'm not quite sure when this was - my sister keeps a diary of it all, so she'd know the date, but Mummy has now been home for, well, it must be 3 weeks or more. She is deteriorating but it is a very slow process. She has what we are calling hibernation days where she goes to sleep and can't be roused for very long periods of time - the longest so far is twenty-nine and a quarter hours! That's twenty-nine and a quarter hours without anything to eat or drink! One hibernation day she stayed asleep while her nappy and nightie were changed. We keep thinking she will pass gently away while she is sleeping, but she doesn't - she comes to and wants a cup of tea!

It is very difficult to describe how we feel living in this limbo. It is worse for my sister as she is there all the time. We feel anxious and unsettled, waiting knowing that things can't improve and that one day very shortly - tomorrow, or in several weeks time? - we will be arranging our mother's funeral.

After Mummy had been home a week, with my sister coping marvellously and me and my second nearest sister going down as often as possible (our eldest sister lives in Devon and has health problems of her own), the doctor visited. My sister had asked for a home visit and been quizzed by the receptionist as to why she wanted such a thing and had answered tartly that mother was dying and she'd like the doctor to have a look at her! The doctor came and apparently was surprised at the difference since she'd last seen Mummy. She said that she could arrange free carers to come in twice a day - well, we were surprised as the hospital and SS said we would have to pay - so this was arranged and they started coming. I knew they would annoy my sister, and they do - being late and this,that and the other. She cancelled them coming twice a day as she said it seemed they were never away, and currently they are coming morning only. As we felt they would, they do unnecessary things to pass the time or earn their money or whatever - they wash Mummy's face, change her nightie and sheet when it doesn't need it and so on, but to give them their due they are lovely, caring people and go along with Mummy's fantasies. When I was there last time she was telling them to get the knives and forks out of a certain box and put the potatoes on!

So my sister had got this new routine going - with the incontinence team turning out to be someone who dropped off nappies rather than some wonderful people in white coats who come in and do the yucky jobs leaving everything pristine! And now, surprise, surprise, she has been told that she can only have the carers free for another two weeks, and after that they will have to be paid. We are annoyed that this wasn't made clear to us at the beginning - we innocently thought that it was a free service as my mother is dying at home rather than taking up a hospital bed. My sister hasn't decided what to do yet - after all she might not have to make a decision whether to keep them or not.

After a hibernation period, when Mummy wakes up, she is fairly normal for a while, and I told her our good news and she was vaguely pleased. As the time goes on, she goes into her fantasy world and it can be quite amusing. When I arrived the last time, she told me that Granny Gray had visited. Granny Gray was Mummy's mother's mother so passed away a very very long time ago. She was telling me about this visit, and also was concerned because there was a lion in the room and then said 'Oh, there's someone at the door!' - to humour her I went to the bedroom door, and she said 'No the front door!', so I looked out of the window and down, and said 'No, there's no-one there'. But of course I was wrong, and the imaginery visitors came trouping into the room. 'I'm sorry I'm so poorly' said Mummy 'Did you see the lion as you came along? Did the children see the lion?' Then she said aloud 'How do you get on with your mother-in-law?'... 'Oh' I said 'She's fine'. Mummy looked at me directly 'I'm not talking to you!' she said. I got up from the chair and said 'Well I'll leave you all to have a chat, and go and make some tea'. When I went back an hour later, Mummy said 'They're leaving now'. When alone, she chats away to herself, pulling at the bedclothes.

So that's how it is at the moment, and we want it to change, and we don't want it to change.... but change it will and we just don't know when.....
The end.

Update on my mother

2009-06-01T16:37:00.003+01:00

1.6.09

First of June and Mummy was supposed to be sent home from hospital today. I asked my sister to text when she arrived, but it is afternoon and she hasn't done so. Maybe she is too busy - if Mummy is back - or maybe she hasn't come back yet.

The hospital don't let you know anything. Even when you ask - it seems. But let's go back in time a bit. I stayed Friday night and Saturday day with my sister and visited Mummy twice, giving sister the time off. It is quite time consuming visiting someone in hospital every day. Also expensive - this is Chichester hospital and they charge £2.60 for between one and up to two hours. I think that's pretty damn expensive.

On Friday when I went Mummy was awake all the time, but practically nothing she said was relevant to now or even reality. We talked all through my visit and I tried to reassure her about things she seemed upset about but don't know how much she really is aware of what is going on. She asked several times where she was. The first thing she said when I went up to the bed and told her that I was there was 'I'm in such a muddle with this' - she was plucking at the bedclothes. I understood what she was talking about straight away (knitting) and said 'Don't worry, xxxxxx will sort it out'. 'Oh yes' she said 'xxxxxx is an excellent knitter, but I wanted to help her'.

She then asked me if it was teatime and I said that they would probably bring round the trolley soon. She wanted to know why we couldnt make it, and I said it was because we were in hospital but when she went home we could make tea whenever we wanted it. Oh, she said 'Would you like a sausage roll?'.... 'I'm ok for now' I said 'I've got this' and I indicated the nutty bar I had brought in with me to eat. Ignoring this, she then asked me if I would like a salted prawn. 'Not at the moment' I said.'Well' she warned me 'They'll probably be all gone by tomorrow'.

The bed had the rails up, of course, and Mummy now speaks very quietly. The only way I could hear her was by kneeling on the bedside chair, and leaning over onto my elbows on the bed, bottom up - luckily her bed is at the end of the ward.

I asked her if Daddy had been there. She said that he had and that she had seen him 'in form' she said, and not just heard his breathing. Good, I said, if you see him again tell him I love him; we all love him. You love him too don't you? Well that started her off. She wasn't at all pleased with him, she said, he had let her down. She told me that he had married another woman. I am prepared to go along with all her hallucinations and fantasies, but not that. 'No Mummy' I said 'He was married to you and he died while he was still married to you'. She looked at me pityingly, like she was thinking 'you poor deluded creature' and said 'I know, but he has still married someone else'. 'He couldnt do' I said 'He's dead'. She looked straight at me, which is difficult as she is so crumpled. 'We thought he was dead' she said 'But he wasn't really'. 'Yes he was' I insisted gently 'You didn't want to see him, but I did and I promise you he was dead'. She thought we hadn't had a doctor in, but then remembered that we had. But she still wouldn't be convinced that he hadn't married someone else. I felt like saying something she always used to say to us when she thought one thing and we thought another, and she wasn't going to argue about it 'Well, you have it your way and I'll have it mine'.

The baby I talked about in the last blog is still there. It wasn't there at one of my sister's visits and she said Mummy was very upset at this and the fact that she didn't have a jug to make up formula (we were all breast-fed but this baby is not Mummy's apparently). My sister just told her that while she was sleeping the staff had taken it away to feed it. But the baby was there this time, and she asked me if I didn't think he was very sweet. I agreed he was. 'Whose baby is it? I asked. 'Daddy's' she said 'With another woman'. I was rather taken aback. Mummy looked down at the nothing in the crook of her arm and said 'But you can't help loving the little thing, can you?' 'What's his name?' I asked. Well she said we were going to call him Colin and then we decided on Duncan. Duncan XXXXXXXX (our family surname) sounds good doesnt it?'. I have no idea why she would fix on Duncan. It doesnt seem like a name that would've been used in our family. I know she was going to call me Peter if I had been a boy.

Although this conversation was totally surreal, afterwards it played on my mind a bit. My 2 eldest sisters (18 and 16 years old than me) have often hinted at Daddy being unfaithful and each time I've brushed it aside saying I didn't want to know. And I don't. It really doesnt matter that much now, although I appreciate that if it was true then it would've caused my mother a great deal of pain at the time. But if there had really been another child, a half-brother to me, how would I feel then? I couldn't resist using my www.ancestry.co.uk account to look up the name in the searches. There was no Duncan XXXXXXXX... but our (fairly unusual) surname is frequently spelt wrong, so I put in a search for the name using the wrong spelling. And there it was...... This particular Duncan was born in 1961 in Hounslow. Not very far from where we were living, and when I was 4, my next sister 7 and the eldest two 20 and 22. The 22 year old unmarried and still at home and my 20 year old sister was having problems with her marriage and had two children of her own aged 2 and newborn. With this kind of full-on fraught family life, maybe my father had steered off the marital path a bit. And he was a charming and good-looking man. Or I could be putting 2 and 2 together and making 105!!! Or maybe I'm not....'Don't be too disappointed with Daddy' was another thing she said 'But I thought it best that you know'.

So, I steered Mummy away from that topic of conversation, and instead asked her if she had seen her mother. 'No' she said 'Has she been to see me?'..... 'No' I said 'She passed away many years ago, but I wondered if she had visited you in spirit'. But she hadn't and I wished she had, and here's why, but of course I didn't bring this up again with Mummy at this time. My granny, my mother's mother, died of cardiac failure when she was only 67. She died in hospital, and when my parents arrived at the hospital she had already died and been put in the mortuary. Daddy persuaded Mummy not to go and see her. He could put a lot of pressure on, and was disagreeable when he didn't get his own way, and apparently said it was too far to the mortuary from where they were, and it would upset her to see her mother dead. She gave in, but many times over the years, she told me how much she regretted it. Only last summer when she was in the nursing home, she went over it all again with me and I tried to reassure her that her mother would've understood. 'I've regretted it ever since' she said with a tear trickling down her cheek. So for 48 years she has had those painful regrets, all because she wouldn't stand up to my father and he couldn't be bothered to trek through the hospital to wherever the mortuary was to pay his last respects to his wife's mother. I'm not saying people should see dead people if they don't want to, but they certainly shouldn't stop those who do want to from doing so. For years, Mummy has said that her mother always put a red rose in the hands of the dead relative and I promised years ago that I would do the same for her, and give her a second rose which will be from her to her mother.

My visit ended after more conversations about parties at the weekend that she thought she had attended. I waited til she had had a few strawfuls of tea from her beaker, and settled down to sleep. Different staff - often young men- come round with the tea trolley, but I am not sure what happens if a relative is not there to assist the invalid with their tea whether they would actually get any. Mummy certainly might be able to say, yes, she would have tea, but she can't pick up the beaker from the table if it was just left there.

The second time - Saturday - she looked dreadful when I went in, lying with her mouth slack and her face so pale I thought she might have actually gone. I spoke to her and saw her chest was going up and down, but she stayed asleep or not talking 99.9% of my visit.

I occupied myself with taking a good look at her notes and copied down some stuff. I believe she is hardly eating and drinking now. She has not had her bowels open for 9 days - though this is hardly surprising. They stopped her Fentanyl pain relief patches and she was a day without pain relief (I think) but now they have put her on another patch called Buprenorphine (I'm pretty sure its not called Bupremorphine). Another, very compos mentis lady in a bed in the ward told me that she had been crying with pain in the night, and at the times when they moved her position and I was horrified, and glad to see on the notes that they started the other patch. Why would they take her pain relief away? That's cruel.

The hospital had wanted to send Mummy back on Friday - having giving my sister a day's notice! Sister said she couldn't have her back til Monday and that was agreed. Despite the hospital saying that they would 'put a care package in place' they had no intention of doing so once they found out that Mummy has money. All they have done is give my sister a list of care agencies to ring. No wonder she felt so overwhelmed before I went down.

They have provided a hospital bed and it has now been delivered and is very good, with rails both sides and a special mattress that pumps up at the touch of a button. All clean and new.

Sister and I discussed things at length and although she rang a couple of the care agencies she didnt feel happy with them or that she could organise them before Mummy came home. I don't know if it was one agency or both, but certainly one said that they would have to come round to discuss the whole situation with her AND with Mummy, and when sister said Mummy was certainly not up to that sort of thing, they said they still would like to talk to her!

They also said that it would not be possible to send only one carer - they would have to send two each time as one wouldnt be able to manage. Sister said that she would be there but they said no, health and safety blah blah. The cost would be £15 per hour per carer, week days and more at weekends. If the carers came twice a day, we roughly calculated that it would cost in the region of £380 per week.

Now the money isnt really the issue, but my sister's feelings are. As I said we discussed it all at length, and we came to the conclusion that rather than rush into an arrangement with agency carers that she may well find unsatisfactory, she would see how it was looking after Mummy on her own.

We both felt that she would get annoyed with having two carers coming in say twice a day and not doing very much at all. It would not be part of their job to feed Mummy or give her drinks, so all they would be doing, we thought, would be maybe washing her and changing her, and maybe changing the bed.

Sister and I don't think she will need much washing. Her face and hands gently wiped once or twice a day of course, and her 'nappy' changed several times. As her intake is now so little, I don't think her output will be much. The hospital havent got her in proper nappies, just a sort of bed protection pad between her legs and another under her.

She will need to have her position changed, but sister practised with me on the hospital bed (it's very comfortable) and acting helpless and she could roll me from side to side, and Mummy favours one side anyway. Sister knows how they change the undersheet by rolling the person slightly one way and then the other.

The hospital apparently don't provide anything, and neither do the care agencies - you have to buy it all. It doesnt seem like they do much or provide much!!!! Sister and I went out and bought nappy pad type things like the hospital have, beakers like the hospital have and Mummy is using there, some soft plastic spoons, some baby food puree in jars, and various wipes, antiseptic sprays, gloves etc. and a swing bin for Mummy's room. We arranged it all , and my sister felt more confident about having her back.

The woman in the Disability Shop said that if you get in touch with your surgery, the district nurse should provide you with all you need for an incontinent person. The Govt pays (nice of them, after all the expenses they have claimed!) So sister will get in touch with the surgery again - they werent very helpful when she rang before but now she knows a bit more. She will also get the doctor to come and do a home visit asap, so Mummy has been seen by her own doctor and obviously she (the GP) knew what Mummy was like before. It is obviously essential that Mummy has proper pain relief.

I will go back down on Wednesday or before if my sister needs me. I really don't think poor Mummy will be lasting much longer, and wouldn't want her to the way she was on Sunday, although she may pick up a little back in the quiet of her own bedroom..

I was sad at her bedside on the Sunday, but she was able to say 'love you' to me and smiled when I kissed her goodbye.

The end.

Mother in Hospital

2009-05-19T09:52:00.005+01:00

19.5.09

Yesterday I visited my mother in hospital for the second time since she was taken in a week ago. The hospital is about an hour and a half drive from where I live or I would've gone more.

The first time I saw her in there - a little, crumpled and crumbled vestige of the woman she used to be - I got very tearful and upset. I wanted to whisk her out of there and take her home. But the home she lived in for nearly 50 years was sold after my father's death, and her current abode is with my sister who only lost her new husband in November, and taking Mummy back there might not be the best option at the moment.

My nearest sister in age (there are 4 of us, no brothers) had visited on Sunday and taken a poem that Mummy had asked for some while ago to read to her. It was still on the hospital bedside cabinet - typed up in large print - but Mummy can't read now, though her library book and glasses are there too, she can't do anything now really. She just lies there. I took a poetry book down with me yesterday, intending to read her favourite poem aloud. But I didn't even ask her if she would like me to read it. I felt instinctively that she wouldn't want me to. She might have said yes if I'd asked her, but that would've been just because it's easier to agree. She used to recite little bits of this poem to me when I was a child - do you know it? The Ice Cart by W.W. Gibson. Some of it seems very appropriate at this time .....'Sleep drifting deep, deep drifting sleep'. That is what Mummy does all the time now, drifting between sleep and this world, and maybe the next. I asked her if Daddy was there as she has been feeling his presence for some time before she went into hospital and she said 'He has been around'. That's good. I don't feel his presence but I'm pleased he's there. Here's the Ice Cart if you would like to read it:

Perched on my city office-stool,
I watched with envy, while a cool
And lucky carter handled ice. . . .
And I was wandering in a trice,
Far from the grey and grimy heat
Of that intolerable street,
O'er a sapphire berg and emerald floe,
Beneath the still, cold ruby glow
Of everlasting Polar night,
Bewildered by the queer half-light,
Until I stumbled, unawares,
Upon a creek where big white bears
Plunged headlong down with flourished heels
And floundered after shining seals
Through shivering seas of blinding blue.
And as I watched them, ere I knew,
I'd stripped, and I was swimming too,
Among the sea-pack, young and hale,
And thrusting on with threshing tail,
With twist and twirl and sudden leap
Through crackling ice and salty deep--
Diving and doubling with my kind,
Until, at last, we left behind
Those big, white, blundering bulks of death,
And lay, at length, with panting breath
Upon a far untravelled floe,
Beneath a gentle drift of snow--
Snow drifting gently, fine and white,
Out of the endless Polar night,
Falling and falling evermore
Upon that far untravelled shore,
Till I was buried fathoms deep
Beneath the cold white drifting sleep--
Sleep drifting deep,
Deep drifting sleep. . . .
The carter cracked a sudden whip:
I clutched my stool with startled grip.
Awakening to the grimy heat
Of that intolerable street.

And here's another one by the same author that I just found:

Suddenly, out of dark and leafy ways,
We came upon the little house asleep
In cold blind stillness, shadowless and deep,
In the white magic of the full moon-blaze:
Strangers without the grate, we stood agaze,
Fearful to break that quiet, and to creep
Into the house that had been ours to keep
Through a long year of happy nights and days.
So unfamiliar in the white moon-gleam,
So old and ghostly like a house of dream
It seemed, that over us there stole the dread
That even as we watched it, side by side,
The ghosts of lovers, who had lived and died
Within its walls, were sleeping in our bed.

***

When I was at the hospital the first time Mummy said there was a little boy there. Later I asked if he was still there. 'Just there' she almost laughed, in a 'surprised you can't see him' tone of voice, and indicating with a flap of her hand the gap between me sitting on the bed and the pillow. 'Is he blond?' I asked (most children in our family are blond when little). 'He hasn't got any hair' she said.

Some time ago - months, or maybe more than that, time goes so quickly - Mummy had two silver angels visit her when she was in bed at my sister's home. She thought they'd come to take her, but they didn't. One was an adult female, and the other a female child. She said they had big wings and were all silver. They appeared with a little flash, and were gone in a second. Mummy said 'Oh, you've come for me' but they didn't speak.

According to the info about the elderly dying from a USA hospice, it is quite normal for the elderly person to have hallucinations or see things that their relatives can't. This article is very informative http://wiki.answers.com/Q/What_are_the_signs_of_approaching_death

There has been a white dove hanging around the house for the last few days. This is of course not very surprising as I keep white doves - see my dove blog http://faithsdoves2.blogspot.com/ But this dove is poorly, and seems to remind me of my mother. It perched on the support for our over door porch last night and no other dove has ever done that. It also reminded me of the White Bird which was/is a death omen for the Oxenham family - http://www.legendarydartmoor.co.uk/white_bird.htm Nothing I can do for this poor dove, and nothing much I can do for my mother.

Husband and I got rather morbid the other morning. We sat in bed with the laptop and looked at the Death Clock. I'd never heard of this before before but came across it through Dartmoor legends website. Here you can type in your details and get your date of death (supposedly). I do not really believe in such rubbish, but still wouldnt put my details in! Husband did his, and scoffed when he found out he would live til 2050, making him well over 90. He doesnt think he will live beyond 70 - well with that attitude he probably won't! I typed in my mother's details, she was born in 1916 - guessing her BMI - and it said she died in 1995. Well she didn't she is still alive and over 93 years of age. We put in husband's father's details. It said he died in 1990 and he did! It also got the month, if not the day, correct. Here's the link but don't do it if it will upset you http://www.deathclock.com/ (sometimes takes a while to load)

So Mummy is dying...... but we don't know when it will be. She is clean, as comfortable as possible and not in pain. God, if you are reading this blog, please send Daddy or the Silver Angels to collect her.
The end.

Amberley Castle Hotel

2009-05-06T13:46:00.013+01:00

We went to http://www.amberleycastle.co.uk/ for one night for our wedding anniversary in April. It was a beautiful sunny day and my new green Boden dress and green patent leather 'slides' had just arrived so I was happy to be able to wear them.Did you think you were going to see more of me! sorry! This is just my feet! I'll let the photos tell the story. We had a wonderful time, all over too quickly. My husband sent me beautiful flowers on our anniversary morning from a local florists,

And I'd arranged some myself for our hotel room, and was amazed to discover that they were also from our local florist! Exactly the same woman had arranged both bouquets, according to the little label. I couldn't believe, and was not best pleased, that Amblerley Castle don't use a local florist but instead gets them from 40 miles away - our own home town! How ridiculous. I put a comment about that on the feedback leaflet.

The bedroom was very sumptous. I love four poster beds, but the curtains didn't draw all the way round - they never do! Some time I want to sleep in a four poster with curtains all round. The bathroom rather gothic, especially at night when I switched the lights off and had a jacuzzi in the eerie glow of the bath! A bit like bathing in a pool of blood.....

Here's my husband at the front door to our little 'suite' - called the Pevensey.I seem to have uploaded two of this photo!

The grounds were so beautiful; very neat without being too manicured. Two gardeners look after it all.

We walked around and it was like a summer's day, and so quiet....... I love the silence of a beautiful garden.

The old walls and arches of the original 900 year old castle blended perfectly with modern enchantments like the tree house

and the dovecote

Through every arch, round every corner there was something lovely, including a beautiful bride in a long veil?I saw it just as depicted and almost thought it was a bride for a second, as of course Amberley is the perfect setting for a fairytale wedding.The bride revealed herself to be a magnificent 'him'. There is a female, but she was currently being kept in a sort of underground dungeon - rather gloomy but lit up - as she keeps running away into the village, and has eggs, or is going to have them... or something!

Below is a detail from a peacock fire guard I admired in one of the sitting rooms. Amberley Castle has now been a hotel for 20 years.

It was the doves that really made this stay for me. They looked so adorable peeking out of the castle walls. Read more about them on my Dove Blog. if you are interested http://faithsdoves2.blogspot.com/

We climbed up to a section of the castle wall, or battlements, that were still intact. Husband didn't like the very open, breezy aspect and it seemed pretty high. Here's the view.

The portcullis, according to all the blurb, online and in their literature, is lowered at midnight each night - (how romantic said my sister, will you wait up to see it brought down? )and raised at 7.00 am. I was much too tired after a long and glorious meal to stay up past my bed-time, but determined to get up to see it raised in the morning.I was up at 6.45 , and in nightie and bathrobe (provided by Amberley) and armed with camera, to see the raising of the portcullis. A young gentleman was surprised to see me - 'Oh!! Hello Madam' he said. I had already seen that big black wooden doors were firmly closed and suspected the portcullis behind them had not been lowered at all. The young man confirmed that they were not allowed to do it i.e. lower it and keep it down. 'Health and Safety' - how bloody boring. Anyway, he cheerfully lowered it just for me! My photo didnt come out too well so here's one of the dining room instead.

I took many more photos, and more of the doves and grounds are in my dove blog (when I've written it) but that's it for now. A beautiful castle hotel, and well worth a visit, if you are feeling plump in the pocket! It was my year to pay for our anniversary treat so my purse is rather thin now!

The end (you may have to scroll down to the comments section)

Children near the water

2009-02-22T08:45:00.005Z

My very first attempt at using water-based oils. Your comments would be appreciated. (Double clicking on it should enlarge the picture)

Christmas Giveaway and My Art

2008-12-15T18:10:00.004Z

This is a recent painting that I was pleased with! I think if you double click on it, it may enlarge.

I thought it would be fun and in the spirit of Christmas to have a little giveaway of Christmassy choccy items. Please add your name to the comments (on either blog) to be in for a chance- see the gifts on my dove blog, plus a photo of a painting of a dove I bought on Ebay.

Merry Christmas everyone!

What happened to the dried oranges?

2008-12-13T16:13:00.004Z

First he ran away with it!

Then he put it down to sniff!

Then he licked it!

This is him staring at the chewed bit!

He's a cheeky boy!

Now he's doing The Snowman - Walking in the Air!

The End

Pink Bathroom

2008-10-25T17:12:00.010+01:00

You may have to scroll down in between photos - 12 of them in all

Welcome to my new pink bathroom. It is small but sweet! If you could've seen the old one, you would see the massive improvement. I especially appreciate having a window that isn't completely rotten and that will open. A simple pleasure. Also it is wonderful to have got rid of that manky carpet with horrible stains around the pedestal of the loo - yuck! I like it being all pretty and pink and girlie. The little door set into the bath panel allows me to use the under the bath area for storing cleaning products, loo rolls etc. Talking about loo roll, isn't it pretty? and it has a slightly scented core - very Hyacinth Bucket (pronounced 'Bouquet' of course!) I even bought myself a new pink toothbrush, and my husband has been teasing me... No pink soap? Well, I always stick to Pears. No pink toothpaste? I expect the only pink toothpaste would be bubblegum flavoured so I haven't bothered looking!

It's not completely finished because I haven't found something I like to put on the walls. Also we need a blind, and a simple pretty light shade.

In case anyone is interested where it all came from, here is the key:

Suite: http://www.bathstore.co.uk/ Name of the suite is Savoy.

Radiator, taps, fixtures and fittings also from above.

Tiles: B & Q Colour Range in Cream

Painted Tiles: http://www.maggiejonestiles.co.uk/ Painted onto cream tiles as above.

Wood Cladding: B & Q
Paint on wood: Dulux Satinwood Strawberries n Cream, now discontinued.

Paint on walls: Dulux Light & Space Spring Blush.

Flooring: B and Q AquaLOC limed oak effect - had to order online.

Towels: Primark

Rose flannels: Local chemist

Mirror: Repainted the old one with the Satinwood.

Products: Cath Kidson mainly.

Loo Paper: Marks and Spencer

Guess Who?

2008-10-08T21:45:00.004+01:00

I haven't said much about my art classes lately but we are now well into the new term. I have not painted anything worth talking about but still enjoying each session. This week we had to do portraits. If you can guess who mine is, then maybe I didn't do too badly! (Double click on it to enlarge). If you have no idea, then it is back to the drawing board!!!

Off at last!

2008-09-14T10:58:00.006+01:00

Yorkie wakes Em on Going-to-Oz-morning!

14.9.08

Em went off to Oz on Saturday 13.9.08 evening. The last few hours were a great rush, as time started to run away with her- a mad panic of packing, checking and re-checking documents, saying good-byes......

We had a little family gathering for her at her sister's house - as that is a place that her dad, my ex-husband will come to. My own husband couldnt come or else ex wouldn't, so it was slightly awkward but ok.

Em wanted me, her dad, her sister and her best friend (who is her sister's other sister, if you get me!) to come to the airport, so we did. She had checked in online but I knew her baggage was overweight, and we ended up in this embarrassing situation of kneeling down at the side of the queue to chuck things out of her bag (and into another that my husband sensibly suggested I take) to reduce the weight!

I hadn't intended to cry but seeing my little girl (aged 20 but much smaller than me, so seems 'little') in tears, and her sisters in tears, and even ex-husband in tears, made my eyes well up too!

And now she has gone! and is still in the air!......... and her bedroom is the most awful mess you have ever seen, but at least I can get into to it to clean now, and I've got 3 months, or maybe more, to do it in!!!

Guernsey

2008-08-14T21:04:00.021+01:00

My parents took me and my (nearest in age) sister to Guernsey every year from the time I was 7 in 1964 to the year I was 16. I have very fond memories of those times. Guernsey is a very special pretty island, and if you have never been there you really should!

Fort Grey

So I was 16 in '73 I suppose, and then I didn't return to Guernsey until I was 21. I went with my first husband, and although I didnt know it I was in the early stages of pregnancy. Then there was a long gap of over 20 years until I again visited the island with my second husband and second daughter in 2000. And now again in 2008. You'd be surprised how little the island has changed from the 60's - still the same hotels along the West coast, still the same little narrow roads - the maximum speed on the island is 35 mph (and petrol is much cheaper!), still the same unspoilt coves.

If you like peace and quiet, walks, sandy beaches, little coves with tourmaline sea and pure white surf, rock-pooling, fishing, delicious cream teas and crab sandwiches at beach side cafes (they call them kiosks), boat trips to little neighbouring islands and fresh;y caught sea-food you and your children will love Guernsey. Mind you there is also good watersports there at Vazon Bay.

When I was a child the beaches were full of young families prepared to spend the whole day. You got there at 10.00 am or earlier to get your favourite spot, and then set up your colourful striped wind-break, your deckchairs, your towels, your picnic..... Nowadays it's not like that. Of course there are families, but not the bucket'n'spades brigades that there used to be. I was trying to work out why - the beaches are as glorious as they used to be - and have come to the conclusion that Guernsey has been abandoned for the likes of the Costa del Sol. After all, you can have week or two of guaranteed (almost) sun for the same cost. Guernsey is not particularly cheap - although self catering or camping might be an economical option for those that enjoy this.

So the masses have moved on, leaving Guernsey for those who like a quieter holiday and who don't mind if some days are cloudy - mind you I came back with a good tan and that was just from walking on the cliff paths and beachcombing. I only lay on the beach in a bikini for half an hour one day but the wind was blowing the sand all over me. I preferred to walk along the paddling in the shallows picking up the little yellow and orange shells I remembered from my childhood - we used to call them oranges and lemons - or lifting the seaweed at the shore line to see the 'sand-hoppers' - well, that's what we called them. They are probably sand fleas or something!

There are 'attractions' to visit but not theme parks or anything like that. Guernsey was occupied by the German Army from 1940-1945 and for anyone interested in WWII, like my husband, there is much of interest including the excellent German Occupation Museum and the damp, depressing Underground Hospital plus various military observation towers (awful concrete constructions) and the prettier older Martello towers.

Sorry! The pictures are sideways! oops!

I copied down a war-time recipe from a newspaper in the Occupation Museum. Anyone game to try it? It sounds ok I thought:

1 1/2 lbs mashed pots

20z butter

20z sugar

I egg and a little essence

Pinch of salt

Mix pots and butter together while hot. Add sugar. Separate yolk of egg from white and mix in. Add white of egg beaten to a froth and salt last of all. Bake 40 mins in a hot oven.

(doesnt say what the 'essence' is or when to add it)

One of my favourite places to visit on Guernsey is The Little Chapel. We went twice during this holiday because I felt so sad to leave it after the first visit that I had to go back again. A little girl called Amy had written in the visitors' book - where visitors write comments and also ask for prayers to be said for special intentions - 'We come here every time we visit Guernsey; it is my favourite place in the whole world'. Amy, I understand how you feel - it is a very special place indeed and very dear to my heart. The prettiest little church you will probably ever see, and the photos don't do it justice. It is built overlooking a field and you walk up from where you have parked your car, and suddenly, there it is - enchanting! Have a look at the website - http://www.thelittlechapel.org/ Another child wrote 'It's where the Prince and Princess of Guernsey got married'. (Even the website doesnt show the colours of the china and shells as they really are - if you do visit, go early or late, it is always open, and it is so much nicer to discover it on your own, without other tourists)

scroll down

Inside view from Little Chapel, and close up of broken china.

This holiday I visited another chapel that I had never been to before. Dedicated to St. Appoline, patron saint of Dentists, presumably because the poor woman had her teeth battered out before she was martyred. It was first mentioned in a Charter of King Richard II dated 20th July 1394 and was restored in the 1970's and still stands at the roadside in St. Saviours parish. There was nowhere handy to park so my husband pulled the car in and stayed with it while I went to explore. I was delighted to find it open, as it depresses me that so many churches are locked up in between service times. It is very small indeed, but there was a simple altar, fresh flowers, a tiny stained glass window and best of all medieval pictures still preserved on the walls. They have a service once a week - next time we go I must make a special effort to go to it.

http://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/Image:St_Apolline_chapel_Guernsey.jpg

I meant to write a short blog, but it's impossible. I don't want to sound like a travel brochure and if you want to find out more about Guernsey just look here

http://www.visitguernsey.com/

I will just mention a few more things that I enjoyed about this particular visit.

I enjoyed anew the blue Guernsey postboxes, and this time I found out that the oldest UK postbox currently in use is in St. Peter Port (Guernsey's beautiful little town). I love postboxes and luckily for me I found out this information when I was already in St. Peter Port (visiting the Guernsey Millennium Tapestry) so I set out, with map and through the little winding uphill streets to find it, ignoring the fact that I had only 10 minutes to get back to the meeting point I'd arranged with my husband - (he'd gone sea fishing). As you can see from the photo it is beautifully restored and painted the original colour - it's the only red box on the island.

scroll down

Blue postbox and one of the many little streets in St Peter Port.

The Guernsey Millenium Tapestry is incredible - I'm so glad I visited it. A truly inspirational Millenium project. Do spare a minute to have a look http://www.guernseytapestry.org.gg/

I bought myself a postcard of one of the panels, depicting many things but also a colombiere (spelling?) or dove-cote which still survives apparently in the parish of Torteval (Guernsey is divided into 10 parishes) butI couldnt find anything about it while I was on Guernsey. Online, now, I have found out there is a farmhouse called Le Colombier.... I think I'm on the right track! Would love to try and find it on my next visit.

Whilst in St. Peter Port I took a trip down memory lane by visiting the place that me and my sister used to call 'The sarkstone shop'. It is a jewellers called Machons which in the 60's and 70's used to have an enormous piece of sarkstone in the window surrounded by a vast quantity of sarkstone jewellery. Sarkstone is the colloquial name given to a form of quartz, similar to amethyst that used to be found on the island of Sark. I still have two pieces of sarkstone jewellery from my childhood - a mother-of-pearl and sarkstone bracelet, and a little sarkstone cross. This holiday I found the shop which I thought was the sarkstone shop and went in and asked the assistant if this was the place which used to have the big piece of sarkstone in the window and she said it was. I then asked if they had any sarkstone jewellery left, and she brought out a tray of the last of their stock. I was picking up this piece and that, and chatting about it - probably boring the assistant! - when the owner came up and we stood there talking for about an hour! He was the great-grandson of the man who had originally open the shop in 1860, and when he was a child used to watch his grandfather making up designs for the sarkstone. I asked him why he no longer had the sarkstone jewellery on display. He said he didn't know really what to sell it as - so I said 'Well, as sarkstone jewellery like you used to do' and he replied that 'sarkstone' was just the colloquial name for the quartz found there. Well it used to be found there, but the resource is now completely exhausted. I haven't managed to find much on the internet.One source said that it is the local name for a type of quartz like amethyst found in Ireland ??? Another source said that the 'sarkstone' sold on Sark had been imported from the China and Zambia. I prefer this explanation:"The violent geological past results in quartz crystals, including the amethyst Sark stone, which are found occasionally on the beaches"

I bought three pieces, all about £8 - 10 - one a butterfly (I wouldnt wear it, I just like it!) and a brooch of mother-of-pearl and sarkstone which matches my childhood bracelet. I probably wouldnt wear it either, but I collect small mother-of-pearl pieces anyway so it can be part of my collection! and a delicate brooch which I will give my sister for Christmas, to remind her of the old days, and which she may, I suppose, wear. I think she'll be pleased with it anyway.

Another simple pleasure was the many little unattended honesty stalls set up on the coast and country roads, selling fruit, flowers and vegetables. You just picked your choice and left the money in the box.

I saw a seal that had come quite close to the shore where some children were playing in the water. It was big and black but I just couldnt get a good photo of it, just Loch Ness Monster humps, so not worth showing. All the years I came to Guernsey before and I've never seen a seal before there.

The main thing I enjoyed was just being with my husband and the beautiful scenery. When we were on the plane home (the flight's only 45-50 mins) and after we had been in the air for about ten minutes, a little voice from the seat behind me piped up wistfully 'Where has Guernsey gone?' Hopefully it will be waiting there for me for my next visit!

Bench beautifully banked by flowers at Guernsey Freesia Centre

The end!

Mini Cosmic Ordering Story

2008-07-18T08:38:00.003+01:00

I have been re-reading the book Cosmic Ordering by Jonathan Cainer (www.cainer.com) and trying to put it into practice. Yesterday I went out for a walk. I am making a scrapbook of feathers for my little great-niece which I intend to give her with a book about birds for her birthday. I 'cosmic ordered' a good magpie feather, a blue barred jay's feather and a green parakeet feather feather before I set off.

I walked up the bridlepath and into the open space before the cemetery. Almost immediately I found a lovely magpie feather. Nothing too special about that as they are not too hard to find, but first 3rd of my 'order' granted. I walked down the road and into the cemetery. It is not huge but much to big to scour every path, grave and section for feathers! I picked my way between the graves scanning the ground and came to a full stop in front of a freshly fallen and perfect jay's feather. I must admit I caught my breath. The bright blue jay's feathers are not that easy to find and this was only the second I've found this summer! 2nd part of 'order' granted.

I had Yorkie with me and he was getting breathless, and was heading purposefully for the gate and the bridlepath home. I had pretty well given up on the last part of my order when just before the gate I found a small fluffy green parakeet feather! 3rd part granted and my cosmic order complete!

What do you think? Cosmic ordering at its best or just luck? Even my cynical husband said 'spooky'.

Wedding Photos

2008-06-19T22:53:00.008+01:00

Bride and Groom

Em and me near the lake

Flowers in the ceremony room

Me and Cee's dad

Flowers Cee gave me (and the same to her step-mum, her mother-in-law and her father-in-law's wife)in the fireplace of our bedroom at the venue

Horsley Towers

Bride and bridesmaids - Em, then Cee and then her other sister, H.

Em

Em with petals from the wedding flowers on the island where my father's ashes are buried.

More wedding pics

2008-06-19T22:42:00.003+01:00

Have had a lot of trouble with Blogger so these have to be separate, sorry.

The Wedding

2008-06-19T16:34:00.005+01:00

19.6.08

Short Version -

We had a fantastic day, the weather was perfect, my daughter looked beautiful - she always does - and everything went amazingly!

Long Version (probably very long!) -

Oh where do I start? How about the evening before? Having had my nails done in the afternoon - simple manicure - I took Em, my youngest daughter and bridesmaid to be - up to the venue to be with Cee, eldest daughter and bride, and her friend, S, and her other sister (Dad's daughter with second wife) H. They were all staying the night before so they could all get ready together in the morning.

The venue is so beautiful - see photos - just the ideal place for a wedding. A turret, a lake, stained glass windows. Cee and the others were running around in bare feet or slippers as if they owned the place. Have a look at Horsley Towers Surrey if you want to see more. It's not a hotel, it's a venue for weddings, conferences etc. We had hired it for exclusive use for the wedding day. Not cheap but maybe not as much as you think. Cee's Dad paid for most of the wedding and though I asked him how much it had all come to he said he hadn't added it up. He wasn't being coy, just didnt want to know probably!

Cee was putting the finishing touches to the room where we were going to have the wedding meal. She had had all the chairs covered - would you believe that there are people doing this for a job? covering ugly chairs in venues. I meant to peek underneath to see what the chairs were really like, but forgot. Anyway the chair covers made the empty room look a bit ghostly and I didnt really think it was necessary, but still.... and I didnt see the chairs so maybe they were bad. Cee and the others were putting little ivory colour boxes with cream bows (5 ivory coloured sugar almonds inside) out for the ladies, and miniature Bell whisky bottles, with cream ribbon bows for the gentlemen (this being a little 'joke' as Bell the surname of the groom) All the places were named of course and she had had a big table plan made and it was framed and outside. All the wedding stationery was handmade by Em's auntie on her Dad's side, who is my friend and also the bride and groom's neighbour. It was in an ivory and dull gold theme, with tiny cut out dragonflies.

There was no 'top' table - all tables were round with 6 or 8 guests on them. She probably wouldnt have wanted a top table anyway but difficult with divorced parents on both sides. Not that we don't all get on, just she would have had to have this endless long top table! The centerpiece flowers wouldnt go on until the next day so the middles of the tables looked a bit bare. They were white roses in goldfish bowl type vases - I may have a pic to put up.

The cake made by my sister was there, and looking elegant too. I prefer cakes with tiers but maybe they are old fashioned now.

My eldest sister and her husband turned up - they were staying the night before too. My sister had already given Cee and groom a present from the list, but she handed her an intriguing box which contained two exquisite little coloured bone china cups and saucers that our Grandma (Cee's greatgrandma) had treasured in her china cabinet. My sister passed them to Cee because she is the one in the family who inherited Grandma's red hair and colouring. (Cee's not so red now, but she used to be!)

Cee said Ooh I love being a bride and getting all these presents! I had taken up a pretty ivory and glittery carrier with the wrapped presents (personally embroidered lavender sachets that Pipany had made) and a pink satin be-ribboned box of extremely expensive and prettily coloured macaroons from the posh bakers in our town. The girls opened them later, and texted me to say how lovely they were - the sachets not the macaroons!

My mother, and my sister who cares for her, and her partner were all there too to spend the night before. It would have been too much for Mummy to come up on the day - she is terribly old and frail now, 92, and it really showed at the wedding. I am so glad she was there. Cee is a favourite grand -daughter.

I stayed a while chatting to all, and saw the bride's bedroom that she was sharing with her friend for the night. The bridesmaids' room - well you should have seen the bed! It was enormous. Our bed here at home is a super-king and I'm sure it looked double the size.

So, Em safely delivered to the venue, I went home and just chilled out. I had been working flat out to scrub up my little home to make it fit for the Animal Aunt who was coming to look after my Yorkie. Hub3 couldnt believe all the fuss - he said Its ONE woman coming for ONE night to look after one TINY little dog! I said yes but its got to be clean and tidy!

In the morning I got up and did all my normal feeding doves and doggie chores. I had a hair appointment with my normal hairdresser in a local town. Not our town but 20 mins drive away, which was a pain, but I particularly wanted my friend to do it. She's been doing my hair for 20 years. Mostly I go to her house but she was in the salon so had to go there. No hitches, hair done and looked good - whew! - and then home again. Animal Aunt turned up - she'd met Yorkie the day before - and all well, so me, Hub3 and his daughter, H set off for the venue. We were going to change there as seemed sensible.

Our room was great, though bed looked suspiciously small. Hub3 is 6'4 and 19 stone. He'd got a new suit for the occasion, specially made!

So I got ready and makeup went well - you know how sometimes your mascara clumps or your face is red or something, well none of that happened fortunately, and I was pleased with how I looked.

Left Hub3 chilling on the bed and went to see how my beautiful bride and bridesmaids were getting on. Cee was having her hair done, it was all over green squiggley curlers! Em was in her room upset at the way the hairdresser had done her hair, but Hub3's daughter was soothing and helping and all was sorted in the end.

People were arriving of course and many checking in as our party actually booked most of the rooms there - in the Towers and in the new part of the venue which is a separate building. Mummy was there in a disabled room. Cee's Dad hadn't arrived, but he and his wife are always late so I wasn't worried.

Suddenly the time had flown by and the Master of Ceremonies - think that's what they called the guy in the red coat anyway (paid for by the venue - I suppose it helps them if the event is well organised with someone announcing etc) was calling us to go into the Ceremony room. It was a bit hot in there, and I was using my Order of Service as a fan. I noticed the Groom mop his brow a few times. He is such a lovely young man.

The music for the entrance of the Bride was Canon in D. Pachelbel - I don't remember hearing it, I was so focussed on looking at my daughter. The bridesmaids went up the 'aisle' first though - first H, she is the eldest and the tallest, and then my Em. You could wish for prettier bridesmaids.

We heard later that Cee's dad had tripped as they came downstairs, after he collected her from her bedroom but they were both composed and happy and smiling. Cee is not a solemn sort of girl - she's very confident and fun-loving. She has a golden aura about her - hard to describe. Anyway, she has been waiting for her Big Day for so long... she used to tell me she used to walk to school when she was about 15 planning her wedding - what she'd wear, what the bridesmaids would wear, everything.

I could see the Groom's face as he said his vows - no-one could have sounded more devoted and sincere than he did. Em and I looked at each other with tears in our eyes. Cee said later that the Registrar even had tears in her eyes and she must have conducted so many weddings! There were two readings - 'I know that I have been touched by love' by Anon. and 'I Promise' by Dorothy R. Colgan, both beautifully read.

They had a duo playing - cello and violin I think (sorry not musical at all). I know they played Love Changes Everything and Moon River which was beautiful. I adore Moon River ..... wherever you're going, I'm going your way .......

After the ceremony - glad to leave that hot room - we all went outside for champagne, canapes and photographs. God and Mother Nature were very kind to us, and the weather was ideal - sunny, but not too hot, and a light breeze, but not too windy. I think some of us breathed a little satisfied sigh of relief that the important ceremony part was over without a hitch.

There was quite a long time between the end of the ceremony and the wedding meal, but with all the photos and everyone milling around and chatting it didnt seem like the two and half hours approx that it was. The only unfortunate thing that happened was that, later on, at the meal it became apparent that my mother was no longer wearing her engagement ring. She had definitely had it on, and photos later proved that, but somehow, it had dropped off, and although we searched it has not been found so far. She was married aged 22 - not sure how long they were engaged beforehand, so she had it for more than 70 years. Very sad, but she seemed to accept it. I had a tearful moment with my eldest sister because we were talking about Daddy - it had been the anniversary of his death in the previous week - and she said she had dreamt about him and he'd said 'Walk around the garden with me....' That's what he always said so her saying that made my eyes sting. It was hard not having him there on such a wonderful day and Mummy being so frail and shrivelled up... and losing her ring.

The meal was excellent, and the room lost its ghostly look when it was filled with all the people. Cee and S had had to choose a menu to appeal to the majority and though not a startlingly different choice it was very appetising - smoked salmon with little bits, can't remember what, chicken with ham wrapped round served on risotto rice with vegetables and a champagne and strawberry mousse on a biscuit base with raspberry coulis (also vegetarian option) and then coffee and mints. Doesnt sound particularly exciting, but was very nice.

I had been dreading exhub1's speech as he talks very fast and sometimes goes off into a ramble. I also knew he hadn't prepared anything but was going to talk 'from the heart' as he had said so beforehand, but he spoke well (if fast!) and although rambled on a bit it was funny, sincere and didnt embarrass me or his second wife. The groom must have said 'y'know' about a million times. He doesn't normally talk like that, y'know, but obviously nervous, poor love. The Best Man refrained from dragging anything up from the past that the Bride and her family don't want to hear - well there wasnt probably much he could've done - the groom is so lovely and not the type to have a big 'past'. The bridesmaids were thanked, can't remember who did this bit, and given exciting turquoise Tiffany bags to open, and then Cee did a speech. She is very confident, but not brash and said everything right and thanked everyone so sweetly. Her Dad and I are very proud of her. She said to me at the end that it was the most wonderful day of her life, and it certainly was an extra-special day to go down in our family history.

Mummy wanted to go after the main course but we persuaded her she had to stay til after the dessert and speeches. She wasn't on my table but I could see her sitting in her wheelchair and her head just bent lower and lower until it was touching the table. She is completely bent over with osteoperosis. She was taken and put to bed then, it must have been about 8pm and she doesnt normally go to bed so early but she was exhausted. Exhub1 hasnt seen or spoken to her since he left me all those years ago, although he has seen other members of my family. He did go up and talked to her at the beginning of the day, but apparently she didnt talk to him - none so deaf as those who don't want to hear eh? I doubt if she's forgiven him. Although I have, what's the point of holding a grudge?

Oh, I forgot, the cake was cut of course.... and then we all went through to the other reception rooms, bar, and the outside lawns and terraces. It still wasn't really chilly.

If my mother losing her ring was a bad omen, then something else happened which couldnt have been a better omen. I didnt see it, but Cee told me about her. Her symbol is the dragonfly. She has a beautiful dragonfly tattoo on her lower back just above her bum and as I said before had her wedding stationery decorated with little cut out dragonflies. There were a few on the cake too. Anyway, while she and S were at the lake having photos taken, the most beautiful large green dragonfly came and rested on her bare shoulder and stayed quite a while. Unfortunately the photographer wasnt quick enough and they didnt manage to capture the moment in a photo, but, in a way, I like that. I don't like every special moment being photographed. She said that she said to S 'Isnt that amazing?' and he said 'Not really....' but you see he believes in God, and she is not convinced.... Don't you think that was lovely? That is the sort of thing that money just can't buy.

Cee had wanted what she called a cheesey disco and she hired the same bloke - a guy in his 60's - who she had had for a 70's party she and S had when they first moved into the new house and before it was done up. He was great, played all the songs the girls like to dance to. And there were loads of girls as Cee works with lots at the salon. And so the evening went on like these occasions do. Em had invited someone very new in her life to come for the evening and he turned up and was an absolute star so I hope he will be sticking around.

We had a buffet supper....oh and then exhub2 turned up. Long story, but he was invited for the evening but no-one thought he would come. He's Em's dad of course and hasnt forgiven me in the slightest for breaking up our home. Em was desperate for him to come and kept asking her Aunty and Uncle (her Dad's brother) who where there (they are the ones who are neighbours of Cee and S - yes? are you keeping up! lol) if he was coming. Anyway Uncle must have persuaded him and he duly turned up. The first I was aware of it, I was in the bar with Hub3 and loads of other people and suddenly he was there, talking to Cee. So far, so good. Anyway, I went over and thanked him for coming briefly. Believe me, he doesnt want to talk to me and is completely stoney-faced. I went back to where I'd been in the room and he sort of came through and had to pass Hub3 as he did so. Hub3 stuck out his hand in a friendly 'lets make amends on this happy day' type gesture and exhub2 rudely ignored him and pushed through. This resulted in Em rushing off in floods of tears at his attitude and Hub3 having to find and comfort her and tell her that he wasnt bothered or offended - which of course he isnt.

Later on, I passed him as I came into the buffet room and as he appeared to be leaving I said 'Are you off now?' and he replied 'I've been off for years'. He always comes back with some sort of quip and is never serious. It didnt bother me him being there. I was glad for Em's sake that he had turned up. However, a while after that he was in the hall talking to his brother and his wife, and it occured to me that he was leaving without saying goodbye to Em, so I went and asked him if he had said goodbye to her and he said he hadn't - I know him so well - and so I thought typical and rushed off to find her so she wouldnt be upset again at him leaving without saying goodbye.

We stayed up til the Bride and Groom went to bed - about 1.30 am but I know Em and a group of young people stayed up chatting much later. Hub3 took over the bed, spreadeagled and snoring, and I lay there with the whole day whirling round in my head.

Everyone met up for the breakfast the next morning and the newly married lady was wearing a black T shirt with Mrs. Bell on it in 'diamonds'.

I'm very very happy that my daughter has married such a lovely young man with a strong and good character. No mother could ask for more. I'm very much looking forward to her coming back from honeymoon so that we can go through it all again! They have gone to Bermuda and New York - I think in that order.

Em and I plan to decorate the newly weds bedroom with rosepetals and balloons and put champagne, smoked salmon and strawberries in the fridge to welcome them home.

I've had to do this quickly cos laptop still playing up so there may be mistakes - I could go on forever about it really so lucky I have to stop.

Countdown to Wedding

2008-06-01T20:19:00.009+01:00

My outfit....

Scroll down .....

1st June today and Wedding's on the 14th, as I'm sure you are sick of hearing!

Hub3 was at the stag night last night. I dropped him off and collected him, pissed, much later. Lucky Hub1 (bride's dad) was there, plus groom's dad and step-dad so he wasn't the only oldie. Earlier on in the day, the groom and his mates were, apparently, being noisy enough - at home in the garden shooting with air-rifles at an old mattress- for some old dear to phone the police. Three officers, in two cars, arrived at my daughter's door. She answered it. One PC said 'Is there a resonsible parent we can speak to?'... daughter, amazed, said 'I'm the home-owner, you can speak to me!'.... PC then leans forward slightly, and said 'Is there an adult at home?'...... Daughter then exploded 'I'm 29!' She has always been taken for younger than she is but finds it annoying, especially as she reckons these PCs were younger than herself.

Cee, my beautiful bride-to-be, is completely organised for the wedding so I am sure we will all have a lovely day. I'd love the sun to shine though. It's such a beautiful venue.The only thing I'm not looking forward to is Hub1's speech. He tends to talk too quickly, and go on and on. I asked him if he'd written a speech and he said no, he was going to speak from the heart. God help us!

Above is my outfit, and I will be wearing pearl jewellery, and a Cee says there will be a corsage for me. I hope it looks ok on my jacket!

I meant to write a long blog with all sorts of things in it but havent the oomph at the moment.

Here are some photos of my garden at the moment.

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Fishing on the beach painting and bluebell wood

2008-05-08T18:08:00.007+01:00

Blossom, left, and Inthemud

I completed this fishing on the beach painting during my 4th Art Class and was quite pleased with it. The sky was a bit scary, but the sand and little people came out well I thought. It was fun to start and complete a painting during the class.

Today, Thurs. 8/5/08, I joined Muddie and Blossom at Hatchlands, East Clandon, Surrey to walk in the bluebell wood there. Although the bluebells were slightly past their best, they were still very beautiful and the wood is lovely. We found half a fairy ring - can anyone explain why toadstools grow like that, or is it magic? I've posted a few photos, although I find that bluebells don't seem to come out very well. We had a pleasant lunch in a sunny courtyard too, after waiting a tad too long for it, considering they weren't very busy.

Hatchlands House and Blossom, wearing her P'Coo badge.

I've had a P'Coo sort of day, as my sweet little doves arrived from UPL - but I haven't taken a photo of them yet. When I do, I'll put it in the common room.

Click on any photo to enlarge.

3rd Art Class

2008-04-29T08:06:00.012+01:00

(The picture we were given to interpret..... and my beginning)

I blogged about the first class, with photos of my painting, at the time. In the second class we were encouraged to attempt the picture that she had photocopied that I mentioned - see photo. The photos show my start of it..... and how it progressed. I didn't find it easy but wasn't too dissatisfied with the result. I wish I hadn't put the chairs in - so difficult.

I know I want to paint, but not entirely sure what I want to paint! I don't know if anyone can understand that. And I want to be good enough to satisfy myself.

So far I have learnt a few techniques. The sky is done upside down! The area is made wet, but not saturated or dripping! and the mixed colours are delicately added so that they merge into each other. My teacher is keen that we mix colours, rather than use straight from the tube. I can understand that - the mixed colours are much more subtle and when dried on the paper look much less flat. I'm finding it difficult to force myself to use vibrant colours. I'm being a bit mouse-like I think.

Our homework, before next week, is to find something - on a card or from a magazine maybe - that we would really inspire us and we would like to have a go at painting. The teacher, Gill (I'm attracting Gills into my life at present ..... waves to WW!) says she will also bring in a lavender in a pot in case we don't find anything, but I don't feel attracted to still life and much as I adore lavender I don't want to paint it. Certainly not in a pot; as part of a garden perhaps.

I found a little picture in the current RSPB Birds magazine (page 10 May-July 2008 Volume 22 No. 2) and thought that might do. It's a sunset over water, with dark trees against smoky mauve and salmon colours. But I couldn't wait for the class and painted it anyway! I was quite pleased with this attempt and thought I'd try to do it again in a different colourway - using muted blues and yellow perhaps. So I'm still looking for a picture to do in the class.

The trouble with me is, I want to do something just as it appears - but I need to use artistic licence and find my own interpretation. No doubt that comes with practice.

Although I have a good new set of paints - in tubes, given to me by my youngest daughter for Christmas (Winsor & Newton Cotman water colours) there are several colours that the teacher said are very useful including ultramarine violet (wonderful colour - very P'coo!) and Payne's Gray (boring colour but good for drabbing down bright colours) so I went and treated myself to those two. Others I want to get are Alizarin Crimson, Aureolin Yellow and Hooker's Green. Gill recommends Raw Sienna, but I have Yellow Ochre and think it's similar. If any artists out there want to tell me of any other colours I am interested to learn.

Painshill Park

2008-04-22T12:56:00.012+01:00

I couldn't persuade either my husband or my daughter to visit with me on Sunday, but I enjoyed myself alone www.painshill.co.uk I wanted to go that day specifically as they had a guide for the Crystal Grotto, which is only open weekends anyway and doesn't usually have a guide. Despite living only 5 mins away in the car I've only been to Painshill once before, and didn't see the Grotto. I've now decided to take a year's membership and it will allow me to take one guest, so if you ever visit we can go for a relaxing walk there and have tea in the little cafe.

Art Class

2008-04-18T08:28:00.004+01:00

Friday 18.4.08

I went to my new Art Class for the first time on Wednesday.

There were 7 students, although the teacher said a few were missing. She said that this first week she just wanted to see how we all got on, without any teaching or interference so she could see what we could do.

There was a pot of narcissi growing from bulbs on the table, onions, a bowl of apples, a lemon and a few oranges. She said pick what we like and either put it on our table and paint it, or from the main table. I picked the lemon and an orange and put it on mine, but I just couldn’t cope with it as the lemon had an awkward little twig attached to it and quickly decided to draw the bowl of apples. They were in a sort of clear plastic bowl, so you could see them through the plastic as well as coming up out of the top.

I was a bit nervous about starting, and I was the only inexperienced one in the class, apart from one man, as all the rest of them had been to classes before – hers and other classes.

There was another option of painting a picture that she had photocopied but as well as sea and sky there were several buildings and I knew I’d never manage them!

I didn’t do too bad for a first attempt. One apple was quite good. But it was all a too pale and pastely and I found it hard to know how to make the realistic colours. Hopefully, the teacher will soon be giving us techniques and advice.

We had a tea break half way through but the time (two and a half hours) went very quickly indeed and I enjoyed it.

At the end we all put our paintings on chairs, lined up, and stood back from them. Mine was so pale it didn’t show up very well. The teacher had brought various works she’d done along – she is very good. How I wish I could paint like that!

On the way home I went shopping and bought a few miniature daffodils growing in a pot which I attempted to paint yesterday with brighter colours – the green of the leaves and the yellow heads are very vivid. When my husband saw it he said it was a bit two-dimensional. Thanks mate! I know it is. He is always brutally honest.

We have ‘homework’ of putting water on paper and then adding three colours and just ‘doodling’. Doesn’t sound too hard!

Where I Live

2008-04-02T16:56:00.008+01:00

Scroll down!

I live on a farm in Surrey. It always surprises me to write or say that because it doesn’t really feel that I DO live on a farm. My sister lives on a farm. That is how I think, but in fact she used to live on a farm and now she doesn’t as they had to sell due to retirement. Anyway, we live in what was once a farm labourer’s cottage dated approximately 1880. It had a kitchen, sitting-room, three bedrooms and a bathroom when my husband moved in. He later added a conservatory, and converted the outside shed+unused,gone to rack ‘n’ ruin privy into a utility room with shower room off it.

We rent the cottage. It belongs to the owner of the farm, and much land hereabouts. He is my husband’s cousin and therefore we pay a very reasonable rent for a lovely little bungalow (we call it the cottage but it has no upstairs) in a tucked away, rural idyllic spot next to a river.

Long before the cottage was built our little area was part of an extensive centre for the production of iron started by an industrious gentleman some time after 1770. This was more than 100 years before the cottage was built but we still continually dig up bits of iron slag in the garden. When my husband first moved in he removed barrows full of the stuff from the neglected flower beds – some bits as big as a barrow!

The iron master responsible for our gardening problems did however build his mill workers a row of delightful cottages in about 1804 and when my husband was first married to his first wife they renovated and lived in one of them (1980’s) The mill was another of the iron master’s projects and still exists behind the building, now used for offices, that adjoins our house. Right at the back of our cottage is a strip of garden where we keep our compost bins, and where our raspberries grow and not much else. This leads to a door, not entirely secret but up to recently totally inaccessible due to brambles, which has the bolt on our side and gives access (now!) to a brambly path at the side of an old building. Inside, the ceiling is falling in and someone has stored pieces of the workings of the mill. No doubt they have been there for years. There’s not much else in there but there is a fireplace, so I have wondered what the place was used for in the old days.

Our cottage is one of several mentioned on the 1901 census as Saw Mill Cottages – they are not called that today, though pretty similar. The people occupying these cottages were all workers on the farm, and listed as labourers, gardeners etc. The cottages and the farm are a short walk from the village where the 1804 cottages face a large village green , with pond.

I first knew the village when I met my first husband – or rather my boyfriend as he was then. He and his friend had just bought the end two of another little row of cottages to renovate (the start of the their property empire). The Estate here doesn’t normally sell off property but at the time was raising money for a big project. These particular cottages could always be referred to by estate agents as ‘bijou’ – literally two up, two down. I loved this village when he (exhub1) lived there and I love it now. At that time (1974) there was a little general shop, but that has now been converted to a home. Shame as I always think a little shop ‘makes’ a village. Now there is only a club – they call it a sports/social club but really it’s a working mens drinking club, but a nice building) , a traditional old English pub (wildly expensive and packed out in Summer) and the tiny little chapel that I have mentioned in the past. The two lovely red-brick schools that were the village Infants and Junior schools are still used – The Junior as a Infants school and the Infants as a nursery.

I haven’t a clue how many people live in the village, but the small town that likes to call itself a village where our nearest shops are (5 mins in the car) has a population of over 11,000. We live in one of the most expensive areas for property in the country (Elmbridge) with the average price of a detached home not far short of the million pound mark and all you get for your mill is a fairly ordinary largish house and not much garden either. Many properties in the area are rented out for thousands of pounds a month. Tucked away as we are, we can avoid the footballer’s wife type people that no doubt live nearby. Chelsea Football Club now have their training ground locally and we can sometimes hear sounds floating over from beyond the other side of the river.

I never thought I would live near a river either, but it is a constant joy. Our cottage was also the lock-keeper’s home in the past, and we have access to a little ‘island’ in the river (not the best photo, sorry)

which is a good place to sit and dream and maybe see the kingfisher if I am lucky. My father’s ashes are buried here.

I’ve always lived in Surrey and am fond of it – its not the prettiest place in the UK, but it’s only 30 mins in the train to Waterloo, and that’s convenient sometimes and it’s home.

(Sorry about the jumbly photo placing - I find this so hard to do!)

Easter

2008-03-21T14:10:00.010Z

Here is my Easter Tree

and another view of it

and here is a shelf on the dresser in my kitchen with lady bunnies in gingham dresses, covering egg cups

I bought myself another egg cup just because I liked the little bunny slippers!

I made this egg several years ago, cutting out the flowers from a piece of wrapping paper and sticking them onto a blown egg, then varnishing it. I bought this egg cup in a junky shop because I thought it was adorable.

Sorry, the photo of that seems to be a funny shape!)

We will treat ourselves to lots of mini eggs! I bought the duck in a charity shop last Christmas time!

Here's a strange little egg - with a dragon in it! Bought on Ebay to remind me of WW and HS and because I think he is rather sweet! The spider plants are from WW too, and are trying their best to make babies to sent to some of you.

HAPPY EASTER EVERYONE!

7 things

2008-03-15T22:02:00.004Z

I've been tagged by Inthemud to reveal 7 things about myself. Muddie says the things must be random or weird! Oh dear, how weird? and what's random? I think I've done this before, or similar, and can't remember what I put, so here goes anyway - just off the top of my head!:

1. I've been married three times. At age 19, 33 and 48.

2. I became an aunt at age 2, and am now a great-aunt to nine, ranging from 7 weeks to 23 years!

3. I accidently killed my hamster when I was 11 and have never forgiven myself. He was playing in the spare room and ran under the wardrobe. I panicked, thinking he was getting squashed, so tilted the heavy wardrobe slightly, hoping he would run out. When I tilted it back, one leg had come down on his neck. I can still see his poor little face. I screamed the place down, and Daddy buried him in the garden.

4. I have never been to France, although I would like to.

5. I eat cold sausages with marmite - lovely!

6. I hide odd photos, or interesting snippets from the newspaper, and particularly postcards of places we've been in our books, so when I open them, they fall out and remind me of nice things!

7. The two facts that you would probably find more interesting about me are never going to be revealed on a blog!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I know you are supposed to tag other people, but I don't want to...... sorry.

F x

Visit to Westerlix

2008-03-04T09:32:00.015Z

On Friday 29.1.08 my alarm woke me at 4.00 am as I was flying to Scotland to meet KittyB, and stay with WW and HS. I crept out of the bedroom so as not to wake Yorkie and made tea, and then washed etc. Hub3 got back earlier than I expected, but I was ready anyway, and I went in at 4.40am and woke poor bewildered Yorkie up, made him do a wee in the garden and then put him on Em's bed in a nest of blankets with a hot-water bottle for comfort and compensation!

My flight left at 7.20 am – it was getting me into Glasgow before 9.00am and Kitty wasn’t collecting me until midday or later but it was the only one I could get that was suitable. Once I was on the plane it was boring because we were in a queue of planes to leave, and I’d read the flight magazine before we even took off. I hadn’t taken a book because I had planned to sleep, but couldn’t, so was VERY bored!

Once at Glasgow and having retrieved my bag, I had a wander round the airport. Compared to Gatwick and Heathrow the airport shops are very limited indeed. I bought a trashy magazine and ordered a bacon and cheese toasted croissant and some tea and sat and read for a while. I frittered away more time in La Senza looking at underwear that was more like neverwear - does anyone ever wear black stockings that come between knee and mid-thigh and tie with pale pink satin ribbons? Eventually Kitty texted me to say she was 15 miles away. I met her at the drop off/pick up point and had to do a run through the appallingly wet and windy rain to get there and huddled in a little shelter til she arrived. As you know I hadn’t actually met her before, but had told her what I was wearing - maroon coat and white I'm a Purplecoo bag lady bag! and hoped she would find me easily – which she did. I had no worries that I wouldn’t be able to talk to her as we had PM'd quite a lot beforehand.

The drive took about two hours and the weather was atrocious with slightly flooded roads in places, but Kitty is a good driver so no worries. We did do one wrong turn which took us half an hour out of our way til we realised, but it wasn’t too bad really. We drove up the side of Loch Lomond but couldn’t see much cos of the rain. At one point I suddenly realised we were driving into Ardlui. Now Ardlui is the name of my grandparents old house that I revisited last spring. Ardlui was the farthest point in Scotland that Grandma and Grandpa went on their honeymoon. I was pleased to see it. Very uninteresting little place though it appeared.

Westerlix is near Killin. It is rather remote but very beautiful there in the Dochart forest, with a white capped mountain in the distance. When we drove in I was enchanted by the large flock of chaffinches outside Lixtroll's home - we get about two pairs, here there are a chirping, chattering flock of about 40 it seemed.

WW and HS were very friendly and welcoming, as were the dogs, Sassy a 7 year old collie and Arnie a 10 year old Jack Russell terrier. The dogs are both gorgeous, but as I prefer smaller dogs I liked Arnie best - he's very cute with incredibly touchable, softly spotted ears and a white waggy tail with a thick white band in the middle of it. I also meet the sheep, Pebbles and BamBam (the next day).

The Steading is a very enviable but homelike property with lots of pictures taken by Dave and lots of ornaments, plants and crazy items (like fart machines and Furbys) belonging to Gill. We had tea which is always welcome after a journey, and I don't know if it was then, or later, that we started on the cup cakes that Kitty had brought with her. She felt that bringing cakes was a Kittyish thing to do, so had made a tray of 36 - chocolate iced ones topped with mini eggs and very lemony lemon ones topped with..... lemon!

There was only the two of us and we had the whole of Jonna's Cottage to ourselves - http://www.westerlix.net/ lovely light open kitchen, very well equipped, big sitting-room and a delightful double bedroom each, and a bathroom each too - how nice! Do have a look at the pictures using the link.

On the first night, Friday, Lixtroll and Humpty came over to dinner and we sat up late, chatting and drinking wine, and eating a delicious lasagne that HS made for us all. We also had a relaxed 'meeting' discussing the calendar and what form it might eventually take. I won't say more about that here because no doubt WW will bring it up again when the time is right. Lixtroll and Humpty are as easy to get on with as WW and HS and I don't think we had any awkward silences. Humpty is specially nice because he said I looked younger than my age - lovely man!! We didn’t get to bed til about 12.45 and I was very tired having got up at 4.00 am but the bed was very big and comfortable and I fell asleep straight away. I like being in quiet, dark places with no light pollution. There is a little burn just near the cottage, but I am used to the sound of trickling water.

Is it fair to give my impression of people in a blog? Well, I'm only going to be complimentary so I think it is ok! Kitty is only 35 but very self-assured. Lovely face with high cheekbones and delicate features and very neat figure. Oh and perfect skin! Gill is petite and neat too. Both of them had tiny hands, I thought. I don't mind being tall but always wish I was littler when around petite women! Gill is more WW than Kitty is Kitty, if you see what I mean. The real Kitty is more feisty than she comes over in her blog. Oh dear better not get too tangled up and personal here! Gill is great - manages to do and say a million things at once. Dave is calmer, probably the perfect partner for her.

On Saturday morning I went off with Dave to his studio to do the photo-shoot, and Kitty and WW took the dogs out for a walk. Those dogs are so lucky - what a fantastic place for them to live - so much space, so many sniffs! As far as I can remember I've only had my picture taken professionally a few times - portrait with my sisters, school photos etc. I hadn't given much thought to the shoot beforehand really, beyond buying the wings and then sending them up by post. I had no idea how I wanted the photos to look or anything. I won't go into the details on my blog which is open to the whole world, but if anyone wants to PM me about it I am happy to reply. Suffice to say that if you decide to have Dave take photos of you - in any way whatsoever - I'm sure you will feel very comfortable with him. I haven't seen any of them yet, but am looking forward to it.Hopefully the lighting was soft and flattering enough! Here is a link to Dave's work - http://www.dphotographic.co.uk/ Even if you are not considering having photos taken, there are some lovely images to look at.

We had yummy toasties and more cup cakes for lunch, and then Kitty collected her props and went off with Dave to the studio. Gill and I chatted and she then washed the dogs as Arnie had rolled in something. He came back wrapped in a towel like a big baby. She washed two dogs in a shorter time than I can wash one, and then worried that she hadn't washed them properly because I commented how quick she had been.

Kitty and HS came back a bit earlier than expected as the electric had failed in the studio. I can't remember what we did next - probably ate my cup cakes! It was a weird thing about those cakes - however many we ate, there was always a plateful!

Gill had decided that we would have a tropical chicken concoction for supper, but as she had run out of oil, we all piled into Dave's car for a quick drive down to have a look at Killin, which was larger but prettier than I expected - www.undiscoveredscotland.co.uk/killin/killin (scroll down and see the pic of Dochart Falls).

Kitty coated pieces of chicken in an egg and cornflour mixture and I chopped up onions, chillies, ginger and goodness knows what else. Gill did the actual cooking. It was a delicious dish which we ate with rice, with black forest gateau for dessert - and probably more cup cakes! I ate so much at the weekend that I'm sure I put on pounds.

On Sunday morning, HS, Kitty and I went back to the studio and Kitty finished her shoot and then HS took jeans and jumper shots of us for an idea he has had. We also took some photos of him! Then we went back and had a big Scottish breakfast, although I didnt eat the black pudding - that's one thing that I won't even try! You saw the pic of me and Kitty cooking it in the common room.

We were both a little sad to leave such a peaceful place and such lovely people and the time had gone by extremely quickly. I would've liked to have down more exploring in the surrounding area. I'm sure it would make a very good base for anyone touring that part of Scotland. But we had to go, so with much hugs and wavings we set off.

The drive back to Glasgow was much more pleasant and we could see the scenery properly. I love the way the little white waterfalls come tumbling down the hills and mountains. I feel I’ve seen quite a lot of scenery recently , what with Norway and Scotland.

Hub3 collected me at Gatwick. The flight back was far better than the flight out – quicker and I sat at the front where there is more leg-room. Also I had a book to read! Em wasn’t in but she and Cee had left lovely Mother’s Day cards and gifts for me on the kitchen table. Flowers from both of them, and iced cupcakes (groan!) from Em and fudge from Cee. Cee's card was exceptionally lovely with a little girl with angel wings on looking up to a white fluttering dove. Em's was of a butterfly.

So glad that I was fortunate enough to be able to go. It was a very special weekend.

Norway

2008-02-09T16:28:00.000Z

I won't bore you with a day by day account of our short trip to Norway. But just give you some of our impressions and show you some photos.

So what did we think of Norway? We LOVED it, and intend to go back next year.

Did we see the Northern Lights (Aurora Borealis)? No, unfortunately not. It was either cloudy or snowing, and a clear sky with the right weather conditions are needed for the lights to appear. We were not really disappointed; it's like coming to England in April and hoping to see a rainbow - you may or you may not!

Was it very cold? Not really and not like the awful damp cold we get here. It was cold but crisp and it was fantastic to see all that snow; a real winter wonderland. I was glad of my unsexy but useful silk long johns and l/s vest though!

I was waiting behind one particularly annoying woman on the boat. She was rabbiting on to the tour guide about desperately wanting to see the lights and how she'd come on the trip specially and he calmly listened and then said 'Shall I switch them on for you, Madam?'

Briefly, we flew from Heathrow to Oslo, and then from Oslo to Bergen where we boarded the boat - the MS Richard With. Go to http://www.hurtigruten.com/ for more details if interested. Over the next few days we travelled up the coast of Norway, stopping at many ports, large and small, for short or longer periods of time. The boat is called the Coastal Express and is almost like a bus with passengers hopping on and off. I won't say more about the boat - if you want to know more just PM me. The food was excellent though, and I didn't miss a meal despite having to find my sea-legs!

The scenery was breathtaking. It was wonderful just to sit in the Observation Lounge and watch the snowy mountains and little houses go by. Like looking at beautiful postcards, one after the other but not at all boring.

On the second day we did a walking tour of Alesund - very beautiful art nouveau architecture due to the whole wooden town being burnt down in 1904, making 10,000 or so people homeless in one night.

On day four, we crossed the Arctic Circle around 7.50 am. We'd been out on deck, in the cold, since 7.00 am waiting for it and not really knowing what we were looking for! A globe marks the place we were told, but we didn't know what the globe would look like! Eventually we saw 'something' - a golden globe shining in the distance. My photo of it didnt come out very well at all.

Later that day we luxuriated in one of the hot tubs out on deck, with another couple, chatting and watching the scenery. Although we were in the Arctic it was so hot in the tub that we had to keep raising the top of our bodies out to cool them down! Mind you it wasn't snowing at that point.

We stopped at many places but didn't disembark at them all, and some were only long enough for a quick walk in the snow. We enjoyed a visit to http://www.magic-ice.no/ especially sipping blackberry wine out of ice glasses. I've always wanted to go to the ice hotel, so this was a little taster!

Our trip finished at Tromso and we got off the boat there at 2.30 pm and were settled in a super modern hotel by 3pm where we were spending the night before going home. Tromso's a lovely place, which just didnt have the time to explore! That's one of the reason's we will go back, but this time start our trip there and go further North. The Arctic Cathedral is in Tromso, but we didn't have time to visit.

The highlight of the trip really was visiting the Tromso wilderness centre and having a husky pulled sleigh ride - http://www.villmarkssenter.no/hmeny-E/htm It is amazing there - 240 dogs. We all pulled on all-in-one suits and special boots and went out to the sleighs. The dogs started yipping and yapping and lifting their faces and howling, just like wolves - they were so excited to be going out. They are beautiful dogs - white with blue eyes, or dark with brown eyes, and some with odd eyes, but they seemed smaller and less well built than we had imagined. They were all sitting out in the snow, tied to little kennels and made an incredible sight in the dim light. We went three to a sledge; I was in the middle. 14 dogs pull each sledge. Goodness knows where we went, the sledge flew down the snowy tracks; the wind blew the falling snow in our faces and I thought 'I'm in a blizzard in the Arctic!' As they ran the dogs took little bites out of the snow, for refreshment, and all along the track you could see the little chunks of snow taken out by their bites. I wanted to take a photo as we went, but it was impossible - too bumpy and snowy. The mushers (blokes who drive the team of dogs) speak softly to the dogs at all times and they are very obedient. We were out for about an hour, and I have to say by the end I was thinking that it was enough and I was cold and hungry!

When we returned to the dog camp, the musher asked us to thank the dogs and I went along the line patting and talking to them all. See the photo - and me in the flattering outfit!

Then we went into the tent, like a wigwam, can't remember the proper name and sat round a very welcome fire and had a hot stew. We had been warned it would be reindeer but it turned out to be lamb. I would have eaten reindeer - I was starving! And there was a very delicious chocolate cake for afters. While we ate a young girl told us all about the dogs, and the native people - Sami- (pronounced Sammy) and how they live/d.

We didn't buy many souvenirs - the cost of everything is very high. For example a lovely pottery mug I saw was approx. £29. I bought a tiny weeny pair of red and white Norwegian style mittens - I think they are supposed to be a brooch, but I will hang them on our Christmas tree next year.

The next day we flew home - a wonderful experience.

The photos are, in order:

Tromso wooden cathedral

A chocolate advert in Finnsnes

Me and the husky dogs

Tromso, showing the Arctic cathedral in the background

Ice sculpture of polar bear

A view from the boat

Lighthouse Kjeungskjaer

Household hints

2008-02-09T10:03:00.000Z

Cait tagged me to do household hints, but Fennie beat me in advising everyone to do as little housework as possible!

I jotted down a few hints on the back of an envelope - now I've lost it! That tells you what my household is like! Untidy and disorganised! Much searching brought the list to light again - it was hidden in a poetry book!

So here's the hints I wrote down:

If you have many school/work shirts to iron, just do the collar and fronts.

Dry lemon/orange peel, crumble up and store in a tin. Use to flavour biscuits.

Deal with paperwork immediately it comes in i.e. pay bills, or they get lost and forgotten.

Always screw the top back on the bottle IMMEDIATELY or you'll knock it over and spill the lot!

Eat sardines and avocado (not necessarily together) as often as possible for good skin.

If you have no wrapping paper for a present, iron some used paper carefully.If you have none at all - use kitchen foil. If the only ribbon bows (pompoms my mother calls them) you have are a bit crushed, then cut the middle out carefully and insert a small fresh flower head.

Whisk up a good foam with washing up liquid and warm water and use the foam on a clean white cloth to clean precious old teddies and other cuddlies. Leave to dry and then brush well. Dirty and well loved beanie babies survive a delicate wash in the machine.

Grate up carrots and courgettes and add them to dishes like lasagne, shepherds pie etc to get more vegetables into reluctant eaters.

If you buy something new, chuck/give away something you already possess.

Make jelly nutritious by adding milk - make up according to packet, but let jelly totally cool but not set and top up with milk instead of water. Whisk in the milk and leave to set. Children love it and the pastel colours are so pretty.

My lovely old Mrs. Beeton book - don't know when published but think it's late 40's, early 50's - advises an exhausting daily routine. I quote 'Each day every room should be dusted, mopped and vacuumed'.

'Whether cottage or mansion, whether there are several servants or only one or none, there need be but little difference in the way household duties are performed'.

Well, I don't see how that can be true, Mrs. B. - imagine living in a mansion, with no servants, and dusting , mopping and vacuuming each room every day!

Even reading the book is tiring - laundry work involves soaking, washing, boiling, bleaching, rinsing, blueing, starching, wringing, folding and damping, mangling, ironing and airing! Whew! How lucky we are to throw a load into the machine, and come back when its clean!

Reminds me of the old song....

'Twas on a Monday morning

When I beheld my darling,

She looked so neat and charming

In ev'ry high degree.

She looked so neat and nimble, O,
A-washing of her linen, O,

Dashing away with the smoothing iron,

She stole my heart away.
'Twas on a Tuesday morning

When I beheld my darling,

She looked so neat and charming

In ev'ry high degree.

She looked so neat and nimble, O,
A-hanging out her linen, O

Dashing away with the smoothing iron,

She stole my heart away.
'Twas on a Wednesday morning . .A-starching of her linen . . . .
'Twas on a Thursday morning . . . .A-ironing of her linen . . . .
'Twas on a Friday morning . . . .A-folding of her linen . . . .
'Twas on a Saturday morning . . . .A-airing of her linen . . . .
'Twas on a Sunday morning . . . .A-wearing of her linen . . .

The only laundry tip I can think of is put a drop of lavender oil in the with water for the steam iron.

Another household hint is when I've washed down and dried our slate fireplace, I rub a little baby oil into it to keep it shiny looking.

I remember reading, when I was first married, a letter on a women's magazine letter page. The woman asked why would anyone want to dust weekly, and what was so special about that week's dust that it had to be removed to make way for next week's. A good point. I only dust when it looks like it needs it, not as a matter of course! The following little rhyme comes to mind when thinking about dusting!

The cleaning and scrubbing will wait till tomorrow,

For children grow up, as I've learned to my sorrow.

So quiet down, cobwebs. Dust go to sleep.

I'm rocking my baby and babies don't keep.

You can insert 'grandchild' instead of 'baby' there if more appropriate!

My best advice to you, whether you are a grandma or not, is..... if your man suggests going out for the day or even going to bed for the afternoon! then you willingly agree - your relationship is more important than keeping the house clean.

I leave you with another little poem by Richard LeGallienne

I Meant To Do My Work Today

I meant to do my work today -
But a brown bird sang in the apple tree,
And a butterfly flitted across the field,
And all the leaves were calling me.

And the wind went sighing over the land
Tossing the grasses to and fro,
And a rainbow held out is shining hand-
So what could I do but laugh and go?

With apologies to Clement Clarke Moore.....

2007-12-14T19:06:00.001Z

Twas the night before Christmas when all through the house,

Everyone was busy especially Countrymouse.

The stockings were made by Pip with great care

In hopes that more orders soon would be there.

Kittyb and Withy were nestled all SMUG in their beds

Cos visions of homemade sugarplums danced in their heads,

And WW in her uniform and HS in his hat

Had just settled down to a brandy slammer nightcap,

When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter

SM sprang from her blog to see what was the matter.

Away to the window Milla flew like a flash

Thinking the builders were after more cash.

The moon on the breast of Pondie's new fallen snow

Gave a lustre to Jackofall and UPL below

And who else to our wondering eyes should appear

But Frances and Cowgirl and all those we hold dear.

More rapid than Broadband our friends had all came

And we whistled and shouted and called them by name.

Here's Elizabethd, Kathleen,Irisheyes, and Sally!

Ivy, Wooly and Pili - how awfully pally!

Come into the porch! Come into the hall!

Now chat away, chat away, chat away all!

As Faith's doves that in the winter wind fly

All beautifully white against the dark sky

So up to the house-top a shiny sleigh flew

And the driver and mate were from Purplecoo.

And then in a twinkling we heard on the roof

The stamping and wiping of Toady's chocolate boots.

Blossom drew in her head, Milkmaid turned round

And down the chimney our Zoe-girl came with a bound.

She was dressed in faux fur from her head to her feet

And her blogs were all Christmassy and a pleasure to read.

She brought a bundle of 'Walkers', all printed and packed,

And we whooped our congrats, thumping Jane on the back.

Amy's star costume twinkled! Camilla's greetings so merry!

Cait's blessings like roses! So witty was Fennie!

How Lixtroll's little poems were drawn up we don't know

And her 'I have blogged photos' showed berries in snow.

Reading the Orange Man blog we gritted our teeth

But purple love surrounded our hearts like a wreath.

Our dogs rolled in poo and were awfully smelly

And we shook when we laughed like bowls full of jelly.

Declan was chubby and plump,

Purplecoo's own baby elf

And we smiled when we saw him in spite of ourselves.

In Remembrance we weeded and dug flower beds

And Sue in Almondbury even got wed!

We partied and planned as our housework we'd shirk

And a chat room appeared as a lovely new perk.

Headmistress raised money cos her hubbie posed

And HS is yummy minus his clothes!

As we gather in the Common Room at the sound of her whistle

And chink-chink our glasses I will end this epistle,
But AA heard us exclaim ere we slumped (drunk) out of sight,

Merry Calpol to all, and from Cowarts, goodnight!

***

Love from Faith xxx

Apologies to all Purplecooers, old and new, if your name wasn't mentioned - impossible to get us all in!

Here's the original poem, if your memory needs refreshing! :

A Visit from Saint Nicholas by Clement Clarke Moore

’Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house

Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse.

The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,

In hopes that Saint Nicholas soon would be there.
The children were nestled all snug in their beds,

While visions of sugar-plums danced in their heads;

And mamma in her ’kerchief, and I in my cap,

Had just settled down for a long winter’s nap;
When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter

I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter.

Away to the window I flew like a flash,

Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash.
The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow

Gave the lustre of mid-day to objects below,

When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,

But a miniature sleigh, and eight tiny reindeer,

With a little old driver, so lively and quick,

I knew in a moment it must be Saint Nick.
More rapid than eagles his coursers they came,

And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name:

“Now, Dasher! now, Dancer! now, Prancer and Vixen!

On, Comet! on Cupid! on, Donder and Blitzen!

To the top of the porch! to the top of the wall!

Now dash away! dash away! dash away all!”
As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,

When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky,

So up to the house-top the coursers they flew,

With the sleigh full of toys, and Saint Nicholas too.
And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof

The prancing and pawing of each little hoof.

As I drew in my head, and was turning around,

Down the chimney Saint Nicholas came with a bound.
He was dressed all in fur, from his head to his foot,

And his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot

.A bundle of toys he had flung on his back,

And he looked like a peddler just opening his pack.
His eyes how they twinkled! his dimples how merry!

His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry!

His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,

And the beard of his chin was as white as the snow.
The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth,

And the smoke it encircled his head like a wreath.

He had a broad face and a little round belly,

That shook, when he laughed, like a bowlful of jelly.
He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old elf,

And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself.

A wink of his eye and a twist of his head,

Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread.
He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,

And filled all the stockings; then turned with a jerk,

And laying his finger aside of his nose,

And giving a nod, up the chimney he rose.
He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle,

And away they all flew like the down of a thistle.

But I heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight,

“Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good-night!”

***

Letter to 13 year old me

2007-12-12T20:37:00.000Z

Dear A,

Well you've already become a technical woman two years ago, and you will be glad to know have now reached your adult height, so you can stop worrying and slouching, you won't grow any taller!

You know you look about 17 and you know it's not always a good thing. Luckily sense prevailed with that boy in Spain, and you didn't do anything incredibly stupid - what you did was stupid enough! You must learn how to get yourself out of difficult situations. But don't worry, nothing terrible happens to you. You don't end up like your sister and your cousin, pregnant and having to get married.

You are worried that you will never have a proper boyfriend - don't be! You will have one within the year, and then afterwards will never be without a boy/man in your life. One day you will look back and wish you had actually spent more time doing things for/by yourself instead of thinking about what some pimply boy might think of you. You will be engaged at 18 - does that surprise you? And married at 19, nearly 20. And a mum just before your 22nd birthday. Hardly any point telling you NOT to marry him is there....... Anyway, you make a very good mum, and you have the sweetest baby...... but you are not worried about being a mother, or childbirth are you?

I'm afraid I will have to tell you that there is a lot of heartbreak, and you will be married 3 times. Yes, 3 times! But although it sounds a bit Elizabeth Taylorish, by the time you marry your third husband, it won't be unusual. Unfortunately your children will neither of them have their parents staying together as yours do.

You are not very confident about so many things - you prefer to stay in your comfort zone. You'd do better to try and spread your wings a little. But still..... no point saying this really. From the vantage point of now, I know it will take you years and years. But you get there in the end. You even, by the time you are about 40, stop blushing at the slightest thing.

You know you said you would marry a millionnaire? Well you did! But by the time he was one, you weren't married to him anymore! and a million in property and on paper doesnt mean the same now as it did when you were 13. A million to you, is about 10 million now. You always wish you have more money now, don't you, but by the time you have plenty, you realise that there are more important things.

Stop being 'bored' and find things to do. There will come a time when you don't have time to turn round. Make the most of now. Learn how to have fun. Laugh more and be silly. Don't worry about making a fool of yourself.

School is ok - you can cope. But really you shouldn't have allowed the bullying of that poor girl to go on last year. Your friend was one of the ring leaders and you knew it. You should have spoken up, you know you should. I'm ashamed of you. There is a saying that goes something like 'All that is necessary for evil to triumph is for good men to do nothing'. Good girls shouldnt do nothing either. But in general you are a good girl. You stay the peacemaker that in essence you are now.

Treasure every moment in the home you live in. You've had 13 Christmasses there, and there are still another 35 to go. But one day, it all comes to an end, except in your memory. Remember every little tiny thing. It will all mean so much one day.

Mummy and Daddy are not so bad, are they? Yes, sometimes wrapped up in themselves, but you are loved. You have a comfortable life at the moment - holidays, presents, private school. One day you will struggle for money, but don't worry too much. They are always there behind you, and those struggles will be character building. People might not always approve of what you do - but you are a still water running deep. It will always work out ok for you.

The same can't be said for N. If only you would realise what is happening to her - but why should you realise, you are little more than a child yourself, and her mother, your sister, and your parents don't realise. And she says nothing, and the abuse goes on, and everyone just thinks she is a naughty girl and why does she keep wetting the bed at her age. It will be many many years before the truth comes out. Only consolation is the b*stard dies relatively young. You will feel so guilty when you find out, but she isn't telling you...... And she's a survivor, big time. And you are friends for life.

You have never really enjoyed being a child or a teen. Life is much more enjoyable for you as an adult, and there even comes a time when you can go out without having looked in the mirror first!

I don't really know what to say to you - nothing can change the path that you will follow. You will keep your faith in God, and He will look after you and yours.

Love,

Yourself as a 50 year old.

PS You know you think that dogs are yappy, scary, horrible things - well one day you will have a little dog of your own, and completely love him to bits. In fact, he will curl up beside you while you write this!

Thank you blog

2007-12-06T21:27:00.000Z

Mostly when I blog I have some sort of idea what I am going to write about. This time I just have a vague idea that I want to thank all of you at Purplecoo for your support since we got together last Spring. I always struggle to find the right words, and feel anything I write is very inadequate compared to the brilliant gems we are regularly given in the blogs and common room by so many of you.

It has meant a great deal to me being a part of Purplecoo. When I first came to CL I was very low, and have had many low points since - in particular an extremely difficult six months between May and October. The lowest point was when I felt that it was possible that my new marriage of only a year and a month (in May) could well be over. Thankfully we managed to work through that, and a lot of the problem existed only in my head.

Several of you have been kind enough to email and PM me at times, and even those of you who didn't know you were helping have done so, just by being a part of Purplecoo yourselves and giving me something else to think about and taking me outside of myself. I know we all feel the tone of the site is specially kind and friendly; i've been on other cyber places and not felt at home or even welcome. Purplecoo is unique.

If I had the right way with words I would somehow link this blog up to all things Christmassy and you would go away feeling cheered and happy having been transported to a frosty winter wonderland walk where we felt frozen puddles crack beneath our feet and found a snowflake in a ice-rimmed nest instead of an egg, and then gone home to sit on the rug in front of a crackling fire with a tray of cloves, oranges and gold & tartan ribbon to make pomander balls, while the little ones drank hot chocolate topped with whipped cream and mini mashmallows and we had iced Baileys in real chocolate shot 'glasses'. As I can't think of a way to link it up - I just put it in anyway!

I sincerely hope that you all have a very happy peaceful Christmas, whichever way you choose to celebrate. I am feeling, mentally and physically, so much better than I did that whatever happens - and we still don't know what precisely we are doing or who is coming or when (see post on Christmas forum, if you don't know what am talking about) - I will take it as it comes. It is only one day, it is only one year. I have a lot to look forward to in 2008, including sharing in the triumphs, tribulations, tears and titbits that make up our wonderful site.

So a very big cyber thank you from me to all of you. As a cyber gift (!) I have copied and pasted the following little article - no need to read if you don't want to. I like it, and it reminds me of something that truly happened to my eldest daughter, which I may, or may not, already have mentioned on the site at some time.

Cee (my daughter) was only about sixteen at the time, and had turned up at a tube station in a less than salubrious part of London for a modelling job. She always looked younger than she was, and was consulting her A-Z as she was unsure where to go. A group of guys eyed her up. Then a rather rough looking woman, with a black eye, came over and asked her where she was looking for. When Cee said the street, she said she was going that way and would accompany her. This kind woman actually walked my daughter up the path of the house where the modelling shoot was taking place. Cee stepped up and knocked on the door, then turned back to thank the woman. She was gone. Completely vanished. Cee looked up and down the road; she was nowhere. No bushes and nowhere to hide. Now was that woman a real angel, or an instant angel, as described below? You decide.

BECOMING AN "INSTANT ANGEL"by Susan Jeffers, Ph.D.
I definitely believe in "Instant Angels ". What is an Instant Angel? As I describe in Life is Huge!, I was once saved by a tow-truck driver who happened to come around the bend in the road just as my car was about to be pushed over a cliff by flood waters in Big Sur, California. An Instant Angel, indeed!
His appearing on the scene just when I needed him could have been a mere coincidence...but I choose to believe that it was something more...that it had something to do with what I love to call the "Grand Design" - the Grand Plan for our lives that our mortal minds cannot see. And, while I never learned his name, (he was too busy cursing at me for bypassing the flood barrier in my eagerness to get to a workshop at Esalen Institute!), I often send my Instant Angel thanks in the form of Light and Love for being there when I needed him.
As the Holiday season approaches, I propose that in addition to our focusing on the decorative Angels that appear in our storefront windows, we put our attention on the real life Angels, seen or unseen, who make (or who have made) our lives a little easier, who protect us from harm, who are the embodiment of Love.
I then propose that we thank them in any way that we can...a phone call, a letter, a gift, or just sending them thoughts of Light and Love.
I further propose that from this moment on we all embrace the role of Instant Angels and, on impulse - or with great forethought - we step in to do things for others who need our help. I believe that we can ALL be "used" by that same Grand Design to serve as Instant Angels for others.
An example I like to give is this: I was standing in a pharmacy I rarely go into when I overheard an elderly women telling the pharmacist that she needed her prescription filled but she didn't have her wallet with her. She explained that she needed the medicine very badly to ease her pain and she would bring the money in later, but the pharmacist wouldn't fill her prescription without payment.
Without hesitation, I heard this voice from within myself saying, "I'll pay for your prescription." And I instantly pulled my credit card out of my handbag and handed it to the pharmacist. The elderly woman turned around and looked at me in amazement and exclaimed, "Are you an Angel? I just know that God sent you to me."
I answered, "I never thought of myself as an Angel, but maybe God did send me to you. After all, how come I showed up here just when you needed me?" And I thought to myself, "Why did I show up at just the right time...and in a place I seldom come?" Coincidence? Maybe. Maybe not. Who really knows? I do know that as I left the pharmacy I was engulfed with an inner feeling of joy and gratitude for having been there when someone needed me.
That was the moment I came to the realization that...
ALL OF US can become Instant Angels as we step in to offer the gift of ourselves to others who need our help.
This requires that, consciously or unconsciously, we pay attention to the world around us. When we do, it's as though the Light of a Higher Power, whatever that may mean for you, comes shining right through us. And as many of you have already discovered, the feeling is Divine.
The beauty of it all is that being an Instant Angel is not just a Holiday kind of thing...it's a year-round kind of thing. This means that the Divine feeling of the Light of a Higher Power coming through us can embrace us every day of the year...How blessed we are!!!
To all of you Instant Angels out there...I send you Light and Love this Holiday season...and throughout the year.
© 2007 Susan Jeffers, Ph.D.

PS I prefer to say Christmas, not Holidays! HAPPY CHRISTMAS everyone and thanks for being you.

Faith xxx

Demanding Little Yorkie!

2007-11-13T12:58:00.000Z

Last night I was getting ready for bed, following my usual routine. I boiled the kettle on the aga - slow, as we are running out of oil - and made a hotwater bottle for Em, and put it in her bed. She was working at the pub and I thought she might be chilly when she got back. Yorkie saw me do it.

Then, when I'm just about ready for bed, the last thing I do is take him out for a last wee. So, we did this and he followed me into the bedroom. He sleeps in a bed under my bedside table, and it is pretty cosy, wrapped round with several blankets, and a little pillow inside.

He also has a little bottle - a tiny one that I bought locally with an oatmeal coloured knitted cover and a red heart on it. It was actually still in his bed from the night before; full but now, of course, not warm.

He got into bed, and while I put my face cream on and got into my nightie, he fussed about and as soon as I got into bed, he jumped out again and made for the door. He went into the sitting room and sat on the sofa on his cushion. Intuition told me that he was saying 'It's warmer in here than my bed, and you made Em a bottle so why not me?'

Of course I fetched his bottle, reboiled the kettle, and made his bottle up. And then he settled down to sleep ...... thank goodness! Pampered little doggie!

From a young man On Active Service - 1944

2007-11-08T16:03:00.000Z

The following is a genuine letter dated 3/10/44 sent to one of my family. I have removed the personal names but kept the spelling, punctuation etc of the writer.

Dear Rxxxx,

I’ve just received your air-mail letter card, thanks very much. Very pleased Ixx got through it OK and I’ll write to her tonight, if possible. I had to write to you first for being so kind and I can imagine how upset you’re at the whole affair.

I’ve not been the same fellow since Ixx wrote and told me the news, and it still puzzles me how a girl like Ixx let this happen. She’s got such a sweet way and all I was living for was just to get back to her, who was my everything. I wish I was talking to you in person Rxxxx it’s so hard trying to explain in a letter. There’s such a lot I want to say, but can’t put it down in writing. I hope you’ll excuse me if I muddle this letter up a little. I told Ixx in my last letter to keep smiling, it’s no use at all worrying, it wont alter things any. She certainly got a raw deal with this fellow. I’m not blaming him for the thing he did, because it takes two to make a bargain, but I did think he would have been decent enough to marry her. Ixx must have loved this fellow, I know she’s not like the type that you find abroad, at times.

This war as certainly ruined some good homes. Theirs quite a few cases in this battery of married women having children with other men, believe me, I can’t understand it. Well Rxxxx, I’d better stop writing like this, perhaps you’ll not like it.

Since I last wrote to Ixx, I’ve travelled a few hundred miles. I’m now in Italy, but still away from the front line, how long for, I don’t know. I don’t think a great deal of Italy, it’s done nothing but rain since I arrived here , and we had the worst storm I’ve ever seen two days ago, but can just laugh at these things, these days. We’ll certainly appreciate a good home, after this, I know I’ll never grumble like most of us did at times, before the war.

I’ve got a photograph of your two children and yourself, which Ixx sent to me ages ago now. I must say, they both look very healthy children, do they make you lose your temper at times. I expect Ixx and yourself, will be going back home, now that the “flying bombs” have about finished. I’ll bet they did much damage, a good job most of them were shot down before reaching London.

The war should be about over, this year. I reckon he’s only just hanging on now. My people at home are very confident that I’ll be home for Xmas, personally I cant see it, because theirs not three months to go now. Still I reckon I can manage my sixth one away from home, theirs thousands like myself. I don’t know how these married men stand up too it, at times it must be terrible for them. What gets me down at times, is that my young life as gone. Five years is much too long. I should be one of the first out, according to this demobing plan and believe me, I’m ready.

I hope to have the pleasure of meeting you someday, when I come to see Ixx. Letter writing to me is very hard these days, my mind is always on Ixx, hoping and praying that everything will turn out alright for her. I never did like the idea of women being in the forces, its been the ruination of the country. Ixx used to ask me, lots of times, if she could join the forces and I used to tell her not to, not because I didn’t trust her, but I always said a girls place is at home, men are made to fight, not women. My people were very sorry, when I told them, that it was all over between Ixx and myself, but I didn’t tell them the reason, it would have hurt mother as much as it did me. Well Rxxxx, I’ve about filled all this space in. Once again, thanks a lot for writing and I hope hope you’ll write again.

Kind regards,

Bxxx

(You will be glad to know that Bxxx went home and married Ixx and brought the baby up as his own, and they had three other children, and a long and happy marriage.)

Teddy Bears

2007-09-22T21:01:00.000+01:00

The teddy bears in the photo belong to me and Hub3. Mine is the smaller one, looking up at the larger one (appropriately). They are photographed where they sit in our bedroom; on a chair draped with a soft aqua throw (wedding present - bit weird but very soft and useful).

Both bears were probably made by Chad Valley at around the same time; late 1950's (although it's possible that they are Chiltern bears). Hub3 can't remember when he got his bear, called Ted, but it was probably when he was born. My mother says I was given mine when I was two. Mine is in much better condition because, as a child, I didn't like him much. I didn't even really give him a name! Sometimes he was 'Candy' and sometimes, when he played as a boy opposite my big dolls, I called him 'John'. I didn't love him - he sat in my room unloved from when I was 2 to when I packed my toys away when I was 12. He then resided in my parents' loft until I got married and took all my possessions with me. Hub3 is horrified by this. His bear was very much loved! I actually had 21 cuddlies in my bed every night that I called my bed-teds when I was very young, including my beloved Kangabun (now just a sorry-looking greyish knitted shape) so it wasn't as if I didn't love some of my toys.

Ted and Candy no longer have their growlers - I must attend to that sometime. Send them to a teddy hospital. Or do you think bears should age with their owner and become old and grey with non-functioning parts?

Talking about that, I have a photo on the mantlepiece of Daddy sitting in his chair at the old family home. He is wearing a jumper and glasses, and reading a book. Typical pose. On the arm of the chair is HIS old bear, also wearing a jumper and glasses and reading a book......

More about that bear later, but back to my bear. Well, I got married aged 19 and my parents being sensible people made me take all my stuff with me. So Candy came out of the loft and as we had a spare bedroom was placed on a chair with some other old soft toys and left there.

My eldest daughter, Cee, was born just before my 22nd birthday and she exhibited arctophile tendencies straight away! Her first teddy was given to her (me) when I was only 12 weeks pregnant and it became her favourite cuddly; called Lambted and the equivalent of my Kangabun. Anyway, as soon as she could crawl she would crawl into the spare bedroom - pull herself up on the chair - and drag off the teddies and take them into her room. I would let her play with them, but then put them back later. After I'd done this about twenty times I just let her keep them. So Candy became hers in a way, but still, in the manner of the 'Velveteen Rabbit' he never became one of the specially loved elite and therefore was not 'real'.

As Cee grew up, she became more and more interested in collecting teddy bears - some old, and some what they call 'artist' (designed by modern individual bear makers) and gradually the love of bears grew on me too.

My paternal grandmother (the one whose house I revisted in a previous blog) kept everything. Most old stuff we have in the family is because she clung on to it. She kept the bear Daddy was given and for some reason my eldest sister had him. She was kind enough to pass him on to Cee. We have a photo of Daddy, circa 1915 wearing a little dress, as was the fashion for little boys at the time, with his bear. The more recent photo on my mantlepiece shows them both, so much older. If any bear became 'real' that one did. Daddy is of course no longer with us, but Cee still has the bear. She calls him Rupert because Daddy couldnt remember what he had called him.

Cee, when she lived at home, had all her bears displayed in her bedroom. Teeny weeny fairy bears with wings right up to great big solid bears that probably weighed as much as an 18 month old baby. When Princess Diana died the realisation that life can be short struck her and she went out and bought an old Steiff bear for about £500. She could afford it as she was earning good money modelling, and of course that bear will have appreciated and be worth more now, if she wanted to sell him. She called him Walter. We used to go to the teddy bear fairs organised by Hugglets (see below) and she mostly ended up bringing a bear home. Part of her 18th birthday present was a great big bear. Some of these new artist bears have shot put in them to make them poseable,but they are jolly heavy to carry home on the train!

Em, my youngest, never really got bitten by the bear bug. When Cee and I used to have teddy bear picnics with tiny sandwiches and miniature cakes and the little china doll's tea service she used to look bewildered and say 'But they're not really eating them......!'

Back to me- I started collecting miniature bears as they would take up less space, but I have packed them all away now. One bear of mine is worth a mention. He's called Horatio, and is not a miniature. In about 1996 I got four numbers on the lottery and won £150 - not bad for 4 numbers cos I know some people got far less for 4. I decided to buy myself a special bear with it, and when Cee, Em and I went to annual teddy bear event in the Kensington Town Hall (organised by http://www.hugglets.co.uk/) *I was looking for THE ONE. I knew I would know him when I saw him. I bought an old English slim limbed, all hair rubbed off, appealing bear. I don't know his adventures before I got him, but since being with me he has had quite an exciting episode in this life. My youngest daughter, Em, and a school friend, became the Bisto Kids of the Year in 1996 and Horatio was part of her costume and got taken to photo-shoots. I may blog about all that another time. We won a holiday to Florida.

I also have a large collection of Ty beanie bears (and animals). My favourites (out of the bears) was probably Erin, the green Irish bear and Halo, the white bear with pearly wings. Does anyone remember how hard it was to get Britannia?

The photos from the top show Hub3's bear and mine (mine has become a little bit real nowaways you will be glad to know), some of my miniature bears (they look big in the photo but none are bigger than my thumb), blurred photo of Daddy and his bear when old, and a better photo of him with his mother when he was only 2. Then here at the bottom there's my latest Ty bear, the one sold with a percentage for Breast Cancer and my old beloved Kangabun, who is not a teddy bear but very very real. The pink cardigan he is wearing didnt come with him. It was knitted by my A sister one day while I lay ill in bed and she watched over me - she is 16 years older than me. He himself was knitted by a neighbour who lived down the road. She could not have envisaged when she knitted him that he would become my favourite cuddly and still kept after 40 something years! You can see he had to have cotton bits sewn on to prevent his insides coming out. Candy the teddy was probably quite expensive, and Kangabun no doubt knitted from left-over wool... but loved far more.

Ah well, I've rambled on and could blog about bears in my family much more but will stop now! Hope you don't think I'm too mad!

* PS - If you go on this website and give your details you can get a free copy of The UK Teddy Bear Guide 2008 but the offer is only available up to 30th Sept.

Testing Testosterone - Blog 2 and probably the last!

2007-09-08T15:57:00.000+01:00

Blog 1 is dated 31st August in case you missed it.

STOP PRESS! The woman from the Testosterone trial at Guys Hospital rang me on Wednesday 19th Sept. 07 to say that due to the fact that I had two episodes of post-coital bleeding this summer, I am no longer suitable for the trial. They will not be continuing with me - but want the sex diary, partially completed, returned!

I had already started drafting this blog so will finish it, albeit changed, as I wanted to describe some more menopause symptoms - so that those of you not at this stage of life will recognise them when they hit you!

I am annoyed and disappointed that I would be carrying on with the trial. Although there was a 50/50 chance I would have been given a placebo patch and not the testosterone one I was looking forward to it. I wish I had not mentioned to them about those two episodes of bleeding. I have had two ultrasound scans using an internal probe thing and both have shown that there is nothing wrong with me. It was probably a slight cervical erosion which has now healed. Anyway, I am trying to take the attitude, suggested to me by my husband and also Cait, that it may be a blessing in disguise. You never know. And I was prepared to do my bit for womenkind..... heaves a sigh!

In the first blog I completely forgot to mention some other horrible symptoms of menopause - how I could forget I don't know! But one thing about the menopause is that is makes you even more forgetful that you might have been in the first place. It's a shame we don't have any stairs here at the cottage cos it would be good exercise running up them to get something, forgetting what it was and coming down again and then remembering and running back up!

I already mentioned irratic periods, hot flushes, low libido, dry vagina in the first Testing Testosterone blog but forgot racing heart (palpitations),feelings of doom and pins and needles in hands.

When I first experienced the racing heart thing it was years ago - I was married to Hub2 and beginning to experience weird periods. I had no idea that a racing heart was a symptom of perimenopause. (When I use the word 'menopause' I mean the whole horrible caboodle, but basically I really mean 'perimenopause' because that is the long period of time during which the body is leading up to what will be the very last period - I personally do not really know if I have had my last natural period yet as I started on HRT before they ended) Anyway to continue.... the only book I had bought about the menopause didnt list this as a 'symptom' and, at the time, I didnt realise it had anything to do with it. I became concerned there must be something wrong with my heart. Suddenly, out of the blue, I would find my heart was racing and I had a 'fight or flight' feeling. This continued to happen so I went to see my doctor. I think this was in the early stages, when I was only about 43 - 45. I wish I'd kept a menopause diary now, it would be interesting. It was certainly before Hub3 and I got together as a couple and that is 5 years ago now. The doctor, female and younger than me, sent me to the hospital for a cardiagram. I was also given a thing that sticks on to you and you wear for 24 hours to monitor your heart - sorry I don't know what that is called. Of course in the 24 hours I wore it, the racing heart symptom didn't happen - s*ds law! The doctor who looked at the results said my heart was normal and advised me to stay off coffee and cola (I hardly ever drink either).Looking back, I think it is appalling that no-one mentioned the menopause. It just didnt come up! Eventually I came across something somewhere that listed this as a symptom of menopause, and once I knew I could be calm about it, and just let it happen. I can't remember how long this went on for, but I don't get it now, hardly at all.

The feeling of doom was/is most peculiar. It only happens, sometimes, when I first wake in the morning, or if I wake in the night. It is extremely hard to describe and I can only tell you to imagine how you would feel if you woke up and then remembered that the most awful thing had happened. It's not in my head, its in my solar plexus - I think! It is the strangest of all the symptoms, but again, it's just a question of putting up with it til it goes. Maybe it's got something to do with low blood sugar. I often find my hands have gone numb too first thing in the morning, or in the middle of the night.

I was pleased when I discovered the following comprehensive list on the internet, and have 'pinched it' for purplecooers -Don't worry, you won't get them all! My nearest sister who is three and a half years older than me hasnt had any problems at all. I said to her 'Havent you had any hot flushes?' and she said 'Well sometimes I have to take off my cardigan'.....!!

List of common symptoms that occur during perimenopause and menopause cut and pasted from internet:

Hot flashes, flushes, night sweats and/or cold flashes, clammy feeling (see note) Bouts of rapid heart beat Irritability Mood swings, sudden tears Trouble sleeping through the night (with or without night sweats) Irregular periods; shorter, lighter periods; heavier periods, flooding; phantom periods, shorter cycles, longer cycles Loss of libido (see note) Dry vagina (see note) Crashing fatigue Anxiety, feeling ill at ease Feelings of dread, apprehension, doom (see note) Difficulty concentrating, disorientation, mental confusion Disturbing memory lapses Incontinence, especially upon sneezing, laughing; urge incontinence (see note) Itchy, crawly skin (see note) Aching, sore joints, muscles and tendons (see note) Increased tension in muscles Breast tenderness Headache change: increase or decrease Gastrointestinal distress, indigestion, flatulence, gas pain, nausea Sudden bouts of bloat Depression (see note) Exacerbation of existing conditions Increase in allergies Weight gain (see note) Hair loss or thinning, head, pubic, or whole body; increase in facial hair Dizziness, light-headedness, episodes of loss of balance Changes in body odor Electric shock sensation under the skin and in the head (see note) Tingling in the extremities (see note) Gum problems, increased bleeding Burning tongue, burning roof of mouth, bad taste in mouth, change in breath odor Osteoporosis (after several years) Changes in fingernails: softer, crack or break easier Tinnitus: ringing in ears, bells, 'whooshing,' buzzing etc. NOTES:Symptom 1 (flashes) Hot flashes are due to the hypothalamic response to declining ovarian estrogen production. The declining estrogen state induces hypophysiotropic neurons in the arcuate nucleas of the hypothalamus to release gonadotropin-releasing hormone (GnRH) in a pulsatile fashion, which in turn stimulates release of luteinizing hormone (LH). Extremely high pulses of LH occur during the period of declining estrogen production. The LH has vasodilatory effects, which leads to flushing. Symptom 7 (loss of libido) For some women the loss is so great that they actually find sex repulsive, in much the same way as they felt before puberty. What hormones give, loss of hormones can take away. Symptom 8 (dry vagina) results in painful intercourse Symptom 11 (doom thoughts) includes thoughts of death, picturing one's own death Symptom 14(incontinence) reflects a general loss of smooth muscle tone Symptom 15 (itchy, crawly skin) feeling of ants crawling under the skin, not just dry itchy skin Symptom 16 (aching sore joints) may include such problems as carpal tunnel syndrome Symptom 22 (depression) different from other depression, the inability to cope is overwhelming. There is a feeling of loss of self. Hormone therapy ameliorates the depression dramatically. Symptom 25 (weight gain) often around the waist and thighs, resulting in 'the disappearing waistline' Symptom 29 (shock sensation) "the feeling of a rubber band snapping in the layer of tissue between skin and muscle. It is a precursor to a hot flash" Symptom 30 (tingling in extremities) can also be a symptom of B-12 deficiency, diabetes, alterations in the flexibility of blood vessels, or a depletion of potassium or calcium SOME OF THE 35 SYMPTOMS MAY ALSO BE SIGNS OF THE FOLLOWING:hypothyroidism diabetes depression with another etiology other medical conditions.

Whew! Pretty bad isn't it!

One thing I would suggest, and it's what I did - Put the menopause to the back of your mind for as long as possible. Don't read books about it, or have anything to do with it until you really feel you have to act on your symptoms. Think young!

I remember moaning about something (not menopause related) to my mother when I was in my 40's and she said to me something which I often think of now and I pass on to you. This is what she said and what I advise you to do:

ENJOY THESE YEARS!

Purple hugs from Faith x

Home-Start Family & Wedding Dress update.

2007-09-06T20:38:00.000+01:00

The young mum (Emily) and three children I was supporting through Home Start went to visit her sister in Scotland during the summer and didn't come back for the eldest to start school. I have now heard from the co-ordinator that she has been offered a 3 bedroom council house in Edinburgh (with views of the castle!) and a 100' garden. The eldest has been given a school place and the middle one a place at the nursery attached to the school. I am VERY happy for her. This may be the fresh start she needs to get her life together. I am delighted that the kids are out of that awful, cramped flat with no garden, broken bed, unguarded windows etc. I hope their future will be so much better now that their mum has been given some hope. Poor girl, she is only 24 and all she wanted, she said, was to feel happy again. I may be given her new address and, if so, I will write to her.

Today my eldest ordered her wedding dress. She went back to the shop to try it on, and Em and I went too. She really will make the most beautiful bride but I am a very biased Mummy who adores her girls - my pride and joy! The dress is Vienna (website details on last blog). Cee looks so much better in it than the model on the website. She is a natural strawberry blonde but her hair has darkened and has to be highlighted now. It is a creamy ivory lace over ivory satin, and has a laced back. It has a crystal and tiny pearl encrusted top of bodice, and tiny crystals and pearls on skirt, sewn into a flower pattern. The colour she is having is Ivory with Pewter. They took her measurements and she is a perfect 10 (UK 10 which is USA 8 I think). She wasnt happy as her waist is 28" as opposed to the 24" it used to be. Mine was 24" at age 16. Em was happy as hers is 23 and a half (she's 19)! Cee is going to have the train slightly shortened as she says it is too long and will get trampled on, or she will trip up.

To see an old modelling photo of Cee (prob taken 4 years or so ago) go to http://www.allisonblake.com/ and look at the girl in the dresses 'Tess', 'Sandie' and 'Ragged Rose'. Her hair looks quite dark in these pictures though and I think she is prettier in the flesh because you can see her lovely colouring and light blue eyes.

Bits and pieces and wedding dresses

2007-09-05T20:59:00.000+01:00

I thought I'd write a quick blog about nothing very particular, just bits and pieces. How I used to do a blog a day in the CL days I don't know!

Em is now working in a local pub; some day shifts and some evenings. It's not what she trained to do and it's not what I want her to do, but it is paid work and she seems fairly happy. She intends, she says, to save up for a year so that she can go travelling in America.

Cee is getting married in June next year and we have started looking for a wedding dress. Thankfully Cee is a fairly sensible girl and will not turn into a 'bridezilla' so we do not have to search the length and breadth of England for a suitable dress. She did have the typical off the shoulder, tight corset waist, and enormous skirt 'Hollywood Dreams' dress in her head, but having tried one on realised that it doesnt really suit her, and is going for a more fitted style instead,probably by Maggie Sottero - extremely expensive I think!Cee used to be a model so we (the family) have seen photos of her in wedding dresses before but when we went to the first shop last Saturday and she came out of the changing room in the first dress Em was so moved that she had tears in her eyes.

Since Saturday we have been to a total of six shops and she has tried on many dresses. I'm afraid now most of them have blurred into one beautiful dress. Cee has a neat bust, and small waist and she pretty well looks good in anything. Only two dresses have really captured her imagination. We are going back to look at one of them again on Saturday. It's lace*, and she was totally against lace in the beginning but has changed her mind on the whole style of dress anyway. It's been interesting, but shopping is not my favourite thing to do, so I hope she finds something soon. We were two hours in one shop, and it was sunny outside and I felt a bit stir-crazy! She doesnt pressurise me to go with her, but of course I want to!

A word about my sex diary - skip this next paragraph if you don't want to know! It may be too
much info for some people.

Tomorrow I have to fill in the first week's activities but I don't know how to answer the questions! The 'activity' is divided into two sections - sex that includes intercourse and sex that doesnt. Fair enough. But I have to answer whether each particular occasion was, in their words, 'satisfying for you'. What does that mean for goodness sake? If they mean 'did you have an orgasm' they why don't they say so? Do you think that is what they do mean? I can find satisfaction in my husband being satisfied, or sometimes I just enjoy the drive and don't arrive at the destination! It's very difficult because they ask you to be honest. Hmmm.......

This seems a suitable moment to comment on how things are between Hub3 and me since the bad time in.... when was it.... May I'm pretty sure. How time flies. Things are pretty good and I am happy and content. I'm not the OTT type. I can't remember the last time I was ecstatic over something. I would be lying if I said I totally trust him, but I feel we are close, and we have certainly done a lot of talking. I think he knows EXACTLY where I am coming from now. Whoever it was (on Purplecoo common room) who advised me just to sit tight and do nothing talked a lot of sense...... as you all did. Your support really helped at the time, and I hope I never have to go back to that dark place again. It wasnt that I didnt trust you to tell you the details but I can't wash my dirty linen on the world wide web, and although I could have trusted certain individuals I would have had to do a lot of explaining about me and him, and things, first. Anyway, we are good at the moment. Long may it last.

Back to weddings again - Cee and I are going on Monday to see the Wedding Dress exhibition at Buckingham Palace. I was looking forward to it, but now my sister has phoned, and long story but I have to go to look after my mother at her house, in Sussex, on Monday night for Tuesday, so I will have a busy day - up to London and back, collect Yorkie who will come with me, and then drive down to Sussex. Ho hum.

I'm enjoying reading the blogs I manage to catch, and apologise I can't read them all. I do little enough house work as it is, but today spent most of the day doing it, so felt very virtuous.

Bye for now.

Faith x

PS Just as typed my name I remembered my banana bread in the oven, and rushed to get it out. Luckily despite being in 15 mins too long, it was perfect!

* http://www.maggiesottero.com/ the dress style is Vienna but doesnt look anyway near as lovely as it is in reality.You can hardly see the lace or the 'twinkles'. Of course she may not choose this one ...... but if she does it will be in the creamier ivory colour.

Testing Testosterone!

2007-08-31T18:07:00.000+01:00

On Thursday 30/8/07 I had an appointment at Guy's Hospital Menopause Research Unit at 8.30 am (fasting!). But let's go back to why I was there.......

Notice: This blog, by nature of what it's all about, will contain some mild but pertinent references to my past menstrual cycle and sex life, past and present. If this will offend or upset you in any way then don't read on!

Ages ago, I can't remember when, I noticed an ad in The Daily Mail for menopausal women with low libido to phone....... so I did. I am now 50 years and have been on HRT Femsequi seven patches for coming up 3 years. Horrible peri-menopausal symptoms crept up on me gradually. I first noticed them at about age 43 when my periods started to change out of their normal pattern. First my cycle got shorter and shorter, 25 days, 23 days, 21 days.... and then longer and longer..... 40 days, 55 days..... I did more pregnancy tests at that time than at any other time in my life! Then I got sort of phantam periods where you get the pain but no bleeding - very weird. Time went on and I suffered with all sorts - night sweats, hot flushes, flooding so bad that once or twice I literally couldnt go out. But I struggled on.

Two years on from that I was 45 and my marriage was breaking down. I already knew Hub3 and a new romance is good for everything - even menopausal ladies feel a whole lot better!

I can't exactly remember when my libido, which had always been very high, just quietly left without a whisper. I went on HRT when I was 47 (and a half) not to try to regain my sexual feelings, but for two main reasons. By that time I was having a hot flush every hour, practically on the hour and couldnt cope any more. It was ruining my life. Herbal remedies or vitamins worked for a while - Confiance is good and I still take it and Tofupil worked really well for a while but in the end I went back to how I was before.

Worse than the hot flushes was the fact that my vagina had got so dry (all day, every day) that it was painful to walk! I tried over the counter stuff, but nothing was very satisfactory. In fact don't even try Relplens - the results are revolting.

It was also discovered that I was very anaemic. I was so tired I could hardly do anything, and rather depressed. Anyway I was given iron, and then HRT and it has helped enormously, although I still get mild flushes sometimes, and still mild hot sweats at night.

As far as my libido is concerned now, I very rarely feel any sexual interest at all. But that is not to say that we don't have sex - we actually have rather a lot and I do enjoy it, but I don't have any interest in it prior to us getting started, if you can understand what I mean and I don't enjoy it like I used to. I miss those feelings and it was that which prompted me to reply to the advert.

So, I replied to the ad and had to go through a very personal questionnaire conducted over the telephone (by a very nice lady!) about my feelings and sex life. At the end, when I had 'passed' she told me that I was the first lady she had spoke to who had fulfilled all the criteria and she had questioned 38! Crikey!

Some while later another nice lady phoned me from the menopause research unit at Guy's and after talking she told me that I was on the wrong sort of HRT for this particular study and they wouldnt be taking it any further with me. I was a bit disappointed but said if anything changed would she please get it touch again. Some months later, out of the blue, she phoned again. Apparently they couldnt get enough suitable ladies for the study and were interested in me again.

I was given an appointment to see her, and to have blood and other tests, and went up on Thursday.

I was required to fast for 12 hours beforehand, and I knew this wouldnt be that easy for me as I do need to have my breakfast, but I had a big meal the night before and hoped for the best. Sometimes if I go out without eating in the morning I feel sick and/or faint but I was ok.My appointment was 8.30 am and I was at Guys by 8.00 am. It seemed strange to go up to town with all the 'suits'! A little adventure!

As I said in the Common Room there is a small but interesting display about how Guy's Hospital was founded (ground floor) and suspended above this is the most beautiful piece of art.... a huge wing! Stunning intense lapis lazuli blues, and shiny silver. I felt it was worth my journey just to see it. I must take my camera next time and get a photo for you all.

I had blood taken and it was put into four little phials for testing. I was weighed (gulp!) and measured. If you are interested I can tell you that I am 5'8 and a half inches and I weigh 11 stone. I would prefer to be half a stone less; I dieted down to ten and a half for my wedding 16 months ago from 11 stone 6lbs but as you can see most has crept back on! My blood pressure was also taken and my pulse. I can't remember what my bp was but she said it was very good. My pulse is only 58 - which is slow I think?? She also listened to my chest and back with a stethoscope.

You may remember, some of you, that I blogged about having post-coital bleeding. This happened on two consecutive occasions earlier this summer and I went to see the doctor about it, and from him had an appointment, which I kept recently, to see a gynae. He examined me physically and is sending me for an ultrasound and a possible colposcopy (hope I spelt that right!).However, he did say that it thought it was just 'hormonal' and nothing to worry about. Obviously, I felt I should tell this trial about all that, and she (and a doctor) decided that it would be in their interests to have the results more quickly and therefore gave me the ultrasound there and then.

This was unexpected, but I am ok with that sort of thing. It is done similar to the one you have when you are pregnant but they have a vaginal probe which they insert, but the picture on the screen was, to my inexperienced eyes, a total mystery. The operator had a job getting a good idea because I have a retroverted uterus, but she did say that she didnt think there was anything unusual there- so far so good!

I then had to fill in a questionnaire to discover if I am depressed, and she also asked me questions on whether I get facial hair. The answer to that is - only an occasional one that pops up on my chin which I pluck out and I don't want a beard thank you very much!

Now, before I am given the trial patches, I have to complete a six week sex diary!This is to show my current feelings etc before the start of the trial. It's a very pretty coy pink! but asks questions about how many times..... how much enjoyment.... etc.

I wondered if just the fact that he knows I have to fill in a diary will make Hub3 more interested as he won't want to make a poor show! i'm not going to go on about it to him though, I've shoved it under the mattress and will fill it in when he's not around. 6/10 must try harder! (only joking darling!)

I have been given a number and will only be identified by that. When I return in six weeks time for the patches, the lady I see does not know, and of course I will not know, if I have been given the testosterone patches or the placebo patches. They have to be worn on the tummy, changed twice a week - and of course the diary must be filled in! The trial is for six months. It will be very boring if i'm wearing placebos for half a year!

The best result would be if I felt (sexually) 35 again. I think that's a little too much to hope for - but you never know! The worst would be, says Hub3, if I grew balls..... (sorry!)

I will blog about the trial again when I get the patches, and it will say in my blog announcement that it is about the testosterone trial.

Clearing out the messy drawer and messy desk

2007-08-24T09:34:00.000+01:00

The drawer is where I keep beauty products. Ones that I havent yet started, or ones that I only use occasionally, or those that I've tried, found I didn't like or didn't work but still kept!

I decided to do a major overhaul and be really ruthless. This is hard for me as I am a hoarder! I brought the drawer into the sitting and got the contents out and put them on the floor - the photo shows how much there was!

Some things I've had so long that there are no longer beauty products and more like antiques, and I kept those! For example, the gold coloured Coty lipstick that I bought on holiday when I was 12 and have taken on every holiday since as a lucky charm. I always add a dab to my lips every year, despite the bugs that are supposedly lurking in old make-up. Also, the Mary Quant body shimmer lotion - must have had that since I was a teenager. I also have an Avon Pretty Peach cologne (for little girl's). This was not an original to me - I saw it at a car boot and couldnt resist it. Who remembers those lovely bottles with the peach shaped top? My big sister was an Avon lady, and we always had lots of Pretty Peach products in our Christmas stockings.

I threw away every lipstick that I don't use, all the lotions and potions that I half-used. New boxed soap that I'd been given and knew I'd never use I gave to the charity shop. I threw out a big bagful of stuff, cleaned out the drawer and replaced what I'm keeping. I must admit I felt better!

The desk Hub3 and I tackled together. We have bought a woodlook finish filing cabinet, and now can file all our paperwork. He kept his, very messily, in the desk, and I had a bursting at the seams mini file. It was all very inconvenient. The filing cabinet is a real blessing. It's funny how having your paperwork in order makes you feel good!

Shooting Stars and ET!

2007-08-13T21:04:00.000+01:00

I decided I would not blog about Em and her problems. After I wrote my last blog was when I discovered how clicking on my home county revealed my profile to the whole bloggin' world and I must admit it made me realise that telling the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth may not always be the best way forward in a blog. As I said in our common room, I've been 'in trouble' before on the www and revealed more than I should so I'm keeping mum at the moment. Em is ok, I am ok, let's leave it at that for now.

Sunday night, inspired by all the media stuff about the meteor shower, and never having seen even one little shooting star before I decided that I would definitely make plans and see some of this one. Hub3 always goes to bed early on Sunday nights as he is getting into night-work mode after the weekend and he was feeling poorly, so he went to bed about 6pm, and I pottered about and tidied a drawer would you believe. I must be getting lots of good feng shui and purplecoo vibes from all the clearing i'm doing at the moment!

Em came home from her Am Dram rehearsal and had some supper, and by 11pm we were all ready with steaming mugs of tea and lots of blankets to go outside and see the show!

We spread rugs on the big garden table and put some cushions down for our heads, and then we got ourselves comfortable and lay down with a rug over us. We chatted and stared up at the sky for half an hour, and saw a few not very spectacular ones. It was a bit like 'there's one!' and 'where!' - certainly it was blink and you miss it!

I went in when I judged it was 11.30 pm as Hub3 had asked to be woken then. He had set his alarm too of course. It was actually 11.45 and he wanted 15 more mins, so I left him in bed, and made us some hot water bottles and took another big thick fluffy creamy rug out to put on top of us as it was pretty darn chilly! We got the giggles because I took Yorkie outside with me because he wanted to be with me, and wrapped him up in one of his little blankets, and he sat between up with just his little gremlin face peeking out, and stared up at the sky like we were doing, with his tongue poking out! He looked adorable and just like ET when he was in the bicycle basket - remember that bit?

Hub3 set off for work around midnight and we watched til about quarter to one. We did see quite a few shooting stars, including about three x-factor ones that streaked across the sky with wide fiery tails, but it was chilly and they didnt come as often as we would have liked. It seemed that the second you rubbed your nose, or adjusted the blanket then the other one said 'there's one!' and you missed it!

So we went in to bed, and I think Yorkie was very thankful. I normally go to bed about 10 and therefore so does he, so he must have thought we were mad! Still, it made for a little bonding mother and daughter session with Em, and that can only be a good thing.

Poetry, Pannacotta and Problems

2007-08-10T08:49:00.000+01:00

First of all, thanks to everyone who commented on my last blog. I always read and take note of your kind comments and any suggestions.

I took my mother home to my sister's on Tuesday but before that I had enjoyed the rest of her week's visit, although as I said before having her makes the pace of life very slow and restricting.

Most days she was able to sit out in the garden - sometimes she reads and sometimes she just sits or if there is anyone there then she is happy to chat; but chatting involves shouting as she is a bit deaf so that is wearing for the shouter too! We usually had tea in the garden. My mother always has tea at 4pm. She always has done - when she and my father lived together in the old family home, if you turned up at 4 then sure as eggs are eggs there they were having tea! In the summer maybe in the garden, or in the sitting room with the french doors open; in the winter the sitting room with the gas log fire on. You could set your clock by it. We set our hearts by it. I can see them sitting there now! But now, of course, it is different, Daddy is gone and Mummy is very frail. Getting her out into the garden isnt easy, but once she is there, then it's nice for her to be outside.

One day after we'd had our tea - made in a pot and with biscuits and cake of course! I brought out a poetry book and read aloud to her. First I read her favourite poem which is The Ice-Cart by W.W. Gibson. She used to say it to me when I was a little girl, at bedtime, and soothe me to sleep with the words.... 'o'er sapphire berg and emerald floe, beneath the still,cold ruby glow of everlasting Polar night.........snow drifting gently.......sleep drifting deep, deep drifting sleep.....'

It was soporific - definitely! In those days she was just saying it from memory and used to muddle up the words, but it didn't matter. After that one, I just delved into the book and we found 'Jim' by Hilaire Belloc about the boy who was eaten by a lion...... that reminded us of Albert and the Lion which was not in the book and we laughed as we remembered it between us, quoting bits to each other. I then read a few others out of the book and it whiled away the afternoon quite pleasantly. Thinking about it now, I should have mentioned another favourite poem of hers and mine .... I'm not sure of the title but it starts 'Nymph, nymph what are your beads? Green glass goblin - why do you stare at them?....' Look it up, its a peculiar little poem that still gives me a little shiver when I read it. Oh yes, I know the title.... it is 'Overheard on a Salt Marsh'.

I coped with finding and cooking tasty and easy to eat suppers that Mummy would enjoy. She has pudding every day too - twice! At lunch and supper. But that's easy as she wants ice-cream, jellies, creme caramel or fruit and cream. Of course, I ate pudding too and the cakes and biscuits at 4pm so I'm surprised I didnt put on any weight! Yorkie too soon discovered that we had biscuits at tea-time and every day Mummy gave him a few bits of a digestive. She loves him and doesnt mind that he is a rather smelly little dog (she can't smell that well anyway!) and he of course adores someone who is willing to sit all day and pet him when he wants to be fussed over!

I thought she might enjoy pannacotta although it is very rich being made out of double cream and I thought I would attempt to follow a recipe for it myself, instead of buying it ready made. Since my early attempts when I was a young wife in my early 20's of making unsuccessful lumpy puddings with gelantine I havent tried that sort of thing but now I find you can buy gelatine in leaves and my vanilla pannacotta, served with sieved raspberry sauce, was smooth and delicious. I have some old little indiviual moulds, in the traditional jelly mould shape and little rabbits and I made it in them.

Although I've visited Mummy of course over the last year, I havent looked after her for a long period of time since she stayed for a week last August. Since that time she has definitely become more frail. She is 91 as you know, and now finds walking even more tiring and difficult; she has wet pants practically every day; she uses a spoon and fork to eat with and for wet food like soups and casseroles wears a 'bib' as well as having a napkin on her lap (not possessing a big bib, I put a fresh tea-towel round her neck and clip it at the back with a peg). This time too she refused an alcoholic drink and various other things she used to have as she gets so much indigestion now. Her body is weak and sometimes she forgets things, but in general she is fine. She was more grateful this year than last, thanking me for doing things for her and telling me after supper that she had enjoyed the meal.

The problems started after Mummy had left and were nothing to do with her. I took her back on Tuesday, and on Wednesday was pleased to have the afternoon to myself, after Hub3 had gone to bed (he works nights).

So being very twee (!) I set off on my bike with a wicker basket, with another round little basket inside it filled with peaches and nectarines as a gift for my neighbour, the lady troll on the bridge. I gave her the fruit and we chatted, and I offered to post her letters, and set off again up the bridlepath, over the river bridge and through the lane to the postbox. On my way back I spied beautiful blackberries in abundance and having the little basket, now empty of peaches, with me I picked a whole basketful, feeling very MillyMollyMandy like. So far, so twee.... until my idyllic golden sunny afternoon was over and I was brought back to earth by Em waiting at home for me and wanting to have 'a talk'....... oh no.

To be continued.....

The first kiss and the last kiss

2007-08-04T21:25:00.000+01:00

Well, my mother's visit continues, and we are very busy entertaining visitors last night, this afternoon and this evening. I am truly exhausted; partly because I can't sleep til I have spoken to Hub3 and he is at a rally (steam engines) and with the beer and his mates doesnt remember his wife until very very late!!

As I said in the last blog my mother has always liked to write and while with me decided to write this little piece with the title above. She has taken it into her head that it should be published in Reader's Digest. I said that they printed 'Life's Like That' anecdotes and 'All in a Day's Work' but as far as I knew didnt print reminiscences of the kind she had written. However she is convinced they do. I scoured the local town for Reader's Digest with no luck. 'They have them in Smiths' says Mummy. 'Yes, maybe' I say 'But we havent got a Smiths!'

I suggest the Letters Page of a magazine like 'Yours' - which was the only mag I could find, locally, which seemed to be published for an older age group - trouble is she is really old! No, she doesnt want to send it to a letters page, she wants to send it to Reader's Digest. I suggest that I know a place on the internet where people put such things, and other people comment on what they've written (too complicated to explain blogging and Purplecoo). No, she doesnt want people to comment. I say they don't comment unfavourably on your style of writing, they just comment on the content. No, she thinks the piece is more suited to.... yes, you've guessed it..... Reader's Digest. Oh well I say we will have to get a copy and send it there then won't we?!

Since she didnt want to blog her piece I feel I should not copy it down word for word and if pigs fly and it is ever printed in RD I will let you know and you can read it there. But, briefly, the first kiss was on my parents' first date after they'd be to a Fred Estaire and Ginger Rogers film. Mummy was 16 and Daddy 19. On the way home he persuaded her down a 'short cut' which was a dark alley! He also told her he was going to marry her. And marry her he did - 6 years later. The last kiss was two years ago on the evening of the night he died. The carers, who only had to come in for two nights, had got him ready for bed and left. Mummy then went in to see him and asked if he wanted anything. I want to die, he told her. I don't want you to die she said, I will have no-one to squabble with! She was 89 and he was 92.She kissed him and got into bed with him and, she told me, they held hands. He died around midnight.

The piece Mummy wrote brought tears to my eyes of course. Mummy this is very sad I said, why do you want this published? I want to get it off my chest she said. But its not a bad thing, I said, why do you want it off your chest. I just do, she said, it's on my mind.

I WILL type it out for her, and I WILL send it to RD. They no doubt will not print it, but I will have done what she asked.

More thoughts on the doves.... and my mother....

2007-08-02T23:09:00.001+01:00

I really am very grateful for all the support offered in the Common Room at Purplecoo. Thanks to everyone who replied to my posts about the dovelings, and on my blog. I thought about everything everyone said.

Once in a blue moon - I think I will join the RSPB and it was a good idea to contact them. Thanks for that.

Grouse - thanks for the advice and practical help with the phone no. etc. I will keep this info by me. I think it was you that said it was probably nutritional. If it was the stuff on the lawn then you are right.

Blossom - it was sweet of you to get in touch with your friend for me. I do hope he wants to communicate with me in some way. I'd love to email, phone or write to him.

Everyone else - thanks a million!

Obviously I do not know why these babies or the last ones died. I can't prevent John and Lily breeding again. and don't want to remove eggs from them. I will see what happens with the next lot of eggs. I have a horrible feeling that the second lot of babies died because we had the lawn treated...... the doves DO peck about on the lawn and what if they were feeding the stuff they picked up to the babies, rather than the dove food (which is fed to them on pans on the hedge). Hub3 said the stuff put on the lawn was only nitrogen. But too much of anything can't be good for little ones. We certainly would NOT have any treatment done to the lawn if the doves were feeding babies. I feel sick to think I could have unwittingly caused their death, by allowing the lawn to be treated. I couldnt care less about the lawn, but Hub3 does. Of course, he doesnt want the baby doves to die and certainly we didnt think it was a danger. The lawn people know we have doves, but maybe they don't know if the stuff they put down is dangerous to birds., or worse, maybe they don't really care.

Also we live right on a farm...... what goes on the fields? But no, I think the problem, whatever it is, is closer to home. While feeding the babies John and Lily only went for occasional little fun flies. They are NOT crap parents as Hub3 suggested; they did their best I'm sure. The first babies they had (Iona and Francis) were ok - well Francis was a bit small and weak as you may remember from blogs around Easter but he survived.

My plan of action is:

Join RSPB and see if I can get info/advice from them.

Find out - somehow- if the stuff that went on the lawn was poisonous to baby birds.

Ransack the net for advice.

Pray that any more babies will be spared to grow up.

Hopefully speak to Blossom's friend.

Contact the people who I got the doves from for advice.

Make a separate blog for my doves so that you everlastingly patient people don't have to read all my dove angst if you don't want to!

Now on to my mother's visit.....

It's easier for me to have Mummy to stay when Hub3 is away as I can fit the routine round her and not him! Her routine is very slow - she is 91 - and revolves around pill time, hot drink time, meal times,more pill times! In one way I find it slow and exasperating, but obviously I like to have her with me. Partly because we get on pretty well, and partly because it is my duty and gives my sister a much needed break. My sister does get lots of breaks actually, but however many she has they are so well deserved. This blog is dedicated to her and carers everywhere; I don't think I could do it as a job.

My sister does get paid - well paid - from family funds, and anyone who has Mummy for her gets paid for the times she is with them, so I have banked a sizeable cheque for this week.... but the loss of freedom is crippling. Thankfully I can escape on the pc to Purplecoo and other places! Also thankfully I have a beautiful garden and it is sunny. I would find it very difficult living in a flat. looking after an elderly person and not being able to step outside into that blessed relief which we call a garden!

Yesterday we got ourselves organised and set out to a village about half an hour's drive away to collect some earrings. Some while ago Mummy had lost a sapphire and diamond cluster earring, and as it couldnt be found she decided to have one made up to match it. This particular jeweller is a family favourite - its where my opal was reset. So we collected the earrings and it was a pretty good match and Mummy happily parted with £1,700. Couldn't believe the cost but she can afford it and it's her money. £1,700 for one earring seems rather a lot though doesnt it? Mind you the stones are a reasonable size. Mummy's ear lobes are very thin and delicate now, and these earrings really weigh them down. It's quite a mission doing anything with Mummy - her walking frame, her wheelchair, timing it right.

We got to talking about her jewellery. I asked her if Daddy had bought her the original earrings. Daddy always loved buying her jewellery but she said he didnt like buying earrings because she always lost them. I said well he was right wasnt he? No, she said, he wasnt! My mother is always right so I don't bother to contradict her!

She always wears two diamond rings and her wedding ring (18ct gold and wom very thin now). The diamond ones are a solitaire and her engagement ring, 3 diamonds in a row. She has nearly lost her engagement ring twice. The first time was once she put it on her towel so she didnt lose it in the water and went to swim in the sea. My father never swam so he was presumably sitting next to her towel; I don't know why she didnt give it to him to hold. When she came back all wet and shivery, she of course snatched up her towel and saw the ring arc through the air with a rainbow flash. You will never find it said Daddy gloomily (well he had paid for it and no doubt it was expensive!). Oh yes I will she said even if I have to stay here til it gets dark. And she did! Very determined woman my mother.

The next time she lost it was many many years later and she didnt know where it had gone. My father bought her the solitaire in its place. One day on spring cleaning they found the ring in the freezer! My father had already claimed for it sone while before on the insurance and received compensation. Being an honest man, he sent a cheque back with a note explaining. The insurance company never even acknowledged it.

Talking about spring cleaning, as my mother is here and I am tied to the house, I decided to clean out the food shelves in my little pantry. This was a long over due task.I was horrified though to find so many out of date products. I filled about 3 plastic bags with dried up Bovril, out of date flour, completely old and non-smelling herbs and spices, and horrible little plastic bags tied up with elastic bands containing.... what? Goodness knows, don't ask! Anyway, I did it all and please Miss that is cleaning out a cupboard isnt it and it COUNTS doesnt it? I know this from the mood buster blogs! So I am expecting a large helping of good things! By the way, the oldest thing I turned out was a little box of paprika dated best before end of DEC 2000! Where did that come from? Hub3 didnt start living here til after then and I didnt move in til 2004. Are you all shocked? Do you all have super clean, tidy and labelled food cupboards?

One thing my mother always liked to do was write. She had a few little stories printed in the past and went to many creative writing courses. She likes to write when she is with me because she knows I understand better than my sisters. She said she wanted to write a piece called the first kiss and the last kiss. I'll say a bit more about that next time. It was very poignant as you can imagine.

RIP Baby Dovelings

2007-08-01T21:51:00.000+01:00

The last day of July (Tuesday) was a very bad day for me. I knew something was not good. One of the babies had not been visible at the window for at least 24 hours before and my instinct told me something was wrong. All day Monday I fretted; wondering whether to look in the nest and risk upsetting the baby/ies and/or the parents. Hub3 and Em didnt know what to suggest; Purplecooers were supportive. I decided that whatever I would have to risk it and look in the nest the next day. Not easy cos even on steps (little ones) I am not tall enough.

So, yesterday, I went out to feed the doves at 7 ish as usual. I could see one baby at the window of the nest box, just ... but even at a distance I knew it was dead. I got the steps, put gloves on and touched its head gently. Definitely dead. Poor poor little thing. I went inside to have breakfast and think what to do.

Of course I didnt feel like eating, but I was setting off to get my mother from my sister's and I can't drive or do anything really if I don't eat. I feel sick and faint. So I ate - porridge - and didnt taste it.

I texted Hub3 at work, and he rang me and said he would deal with it when he got back, but I decided to deal with it myself. They are my doves, not his, and he dealt with the last dead babies (back in early June - they were only 2/3 days old). I wanted to prove to myself that I could deal with this sort of situation - grim though it was.

I had to leave at 10 am or soon after so there was no time to think anymore, I had to do it. Don't read any more if you are sensitive cos the next two paragraphs are very unpleasant. Skip to the paragraph after the following two.

SKIP

We have a special scraping tool for scooping dove mess, old hay, etc out of the nest boxes. Armed with that, an old icecream carton and a bucket, I got up on the steps. The visible baby came out easily with one scoop. I put it in the icecream box and put the lid on; to look at later. Then I really really had to grit my teeth, and hold in my stomach. I positioned the bucket at the entrance of the nest box and using the scraper 'felt' inside. I hate doing things like this when I can't see. I can deal with things I can see, just about. It was awful.... I scraped the very rapidly decaying body of the other poor little chick into the bucket, with bits of hay etc - it smelt bad and was seething with maggots. I don't take Jesus' name in vain in general, but the word just came out of my mouth. M*****s are a phobia of mine. I don't even want to write the word again. Like any phobia, I dread it and am drawn to it at the same time - the written word, the spoken word, the disgusting things themselves. It was a nightmare.... and of course I had expected it, but not that bad! Not that many! It was vile, utterly gut wrenching. And poor Lily (dove mum) and the other baby,then alive, had spent the night before in the nest box....... oh it was horrible! All the nesting material was damp, and wriggling and it took ages to clear it all out. Then I chucked in an old mugful of boiling water and wiped round with kitchen roll, and then did it again until I was satisfied the compartment was clean.

The yucky bucketful I took down to the river and emptied in, without looking. My ugly but cute doveling had become a thing of horror. Then I had a shower and washed my hair - chucking my t shirt and shorts in the washing machine. Then I went to look at the one who had died in the night. I couldnt see anything wrong with it, but what do I know. When Hub3 came home he said that he thought it's crop was rather swollen. We discussed having a PM done on it, but he said it would be a waste of money, and surely the poor thing should have some dignity in death. I feel when a thing is dead it's dead, but I didnt want to have to put the box in the fridge or freezer and I couldnt deal with it anymore as I had to go and get my mother, so. on my own, I took the box down to the riverbank. I picked a flowering weed, purple, and placed it on the baby and then floated it out of the box (which of course I didnt put in the river). It was swept away quickly down with the current and I cried. And I cried on and off all the way as I drove down to Sussex.

SAFE TO READ ON

Having cleaned out the nest box and collected my mother, and been caught in road works on the way home, we were back later than I wanted to be. Em had been instructed to feed the doves. Lily (mum dove) was peering into the nest box when we walked up the path. My mother walks very slowly, with a frame.

Poor Lily and poor John, the father dove, and named after my father. I wonder what birds and animals think or know, or feel in these circumstances. Lily is a mother and I am a mother, but she is a different species and I can't put my arm around her and comfort her. I spoke to her of course, but of course she doesnt understand. I showed her the baby dove before I put it in the river. Hub3 didnt think that was a good idea. She will think you took the baby away now, he said. I don't know what she thinks. Lily is the tamest of the doves, probably because we had to handle her when she was injured. I feel pain because of the loss - does she feel pain? Or does she just know she didnt finish the job. There were babies that needed feeding and now there are not. Is she bewildered?

The last time when the tiny babies died none of the doves stayed the night in the dovecote. It was a very depressing night of mourning. Last night John and Lily both stayed, one in the actual nestbox where the babies had been; probably Lily. Today, the mood around the dovecote has been better. Although Lily has looked in to the box, and also perched outside on the sill for a long, long time, eventually she flew to join John and other doves on the roof. She and John enjoyed the sunshine and canoodled, billing and cooing, and ended up mating on the roof of the dovecote. It's good they appear to have got over the loss, but I dread new babies coming now.

Will continue this and reply to Purplecooers kind Common Room comments..... and say something about my mother's visit in another blog asap. Thank you again for all your support.

5 Ways I Change My Mood from Low to High

2007-07-29T19:48:00.000+01:00

1. Go outside. Walk barefoot on the grass. Pick flowers. Watch my doves. Lie on the lawn and look at the sky. In winter, go for a walk. And when I come in - bring some of the outside in - flowers, leaves, berries, an egg-shell, a feather, a stone in a satisfying shape.

2. Read one of my favourite books from way back when. Even just a few pages of something I know really well will cheer me up. Any of my Georgette Heyers - Friday's Child, The Grand Sophy, A Civil Contract, These Old Shades. Or I might go further back in time and read a children's book - A Little White Horse, A Little Princess, Little Women (hmm 3 'Littles' ... don't know what that's all about!)

3. Rummage in my stuff! Reminisce with old photo albums, or get out my collection of mother-of-pearl things and handle them or look at souvenirs of places and people; all the odd little bits that I keep tucked away in drawers and cupboards.

4. Email and/or text my people! If I send out lots of emails just saying hi to friends and telling them my news, I get connected again, and get lots of emails back, and plans are made, and life goes on!

5. Pray. Mostly I'm fairly happy, and I pray if I want to and if I think about it. But when I'm really down and unhappy I can pray, and hold my lovely special smooth hand-cross which is made of wood from olive-trees and I have never asked for something sincerely and been denied.

We were asked for 5 things so here I must stop!

Dovelings - 2 weeks old.

2007-07-27T11:21:00.000+01:00

I'm so happy the babies are doing well. They often appear at the window of the nestbox now, so I can take careful pictures which I am sharing with you! If you click on them you should see the babies more clearly. They still have some of their 'babybaby' yellow fluff, but are getting their white feathers now.

Hub3 calls them the ugly dovelings, but I think they have their own charm.

Doves Update

2007-07-20T15:18:00.001+01:00

NOTE - Have added photo of one of the new babies - taken 24.7.07. If you click on the photo and enlarge it,you will see the baby better. Hub3 thinks its so ugly, but I love it anyway!

I see from my little bit at the side on my doves that before I went away there were about 13 doves every morning waiting on the roof to be fed. As Em is definitely not an early riser, I asked our neighbour (Mr. Troll who lives on the bridge) to do the 7.00 am feed. He and Mrs Troll have lots of bird feeders out themselves and are always interested to hear about my dovies, so I thought he wouldnt mind. When I went to see them when we came home, taking them some Menorcan dishes as a gift, Mr. Troll announced that every morning there were 20 doves eagerly anticipating his visit. I vaguely wondered if he counted them properly, but sure enough the next morning there were 20, and bearing in mind we have only 4, I'm feeding a lot of visitors!

Today and yesterday there were 22! -where will it stop, 30, 50? I can't feed that many every day! I have decided to put out the same amount of food however many there are, and later when the main flock flies away to wherever they go for the rest of the day, I put out more so John and Lily have plenty for feeding the babies.

And yes! We do have babies again! I found egg shells on the grass when we got home and Em thought they had hatched out two or three days beforehand. I didnt want to bestow on them Friday 13th as a birthday, so decided that Saturday 14th July would be their birthday. I have not even tried to get a peep at them, and the photo shown is of the poor little early June babies that died at a few days old. This new pair (I assume and hope there are two) are now approximately a week old and today as I paused near the gate at the end of the path I believe I heard them 'peeping' for the first time!

They stay in the nest getting bigger and bigger and more demanding for food until they are about four weeks old. We will name them then, and I will again ask Purplecooers for suggestions, but not doing it til we ring them - just in case. I really did feel so sad about those other little babies.

I don't really mind feeding the big flock. I havent forgotten how sad it was when Persephone died and her mate Pax flew away, and we only had John and Lily. And then I was happy again when John and Lily got together and had Francis and Iona.... but it was a long lonely time when one parent was on the nest and the other stood sentinel on the roof all alone. Now, we always have a few fluttering about, or walking along the flower beds, poking their beaks into everything. The main flock is white, but there are a few variations including one exceptionally beautiful mainly white dove with a purple and green band round his neck and broad black bands on his wings.

I'd love to know what all the doves do and where they go when they are not here at the cottage.

Menorca.... and me..... and him

2007-07-18T21:33:00.000+01:00

A week goes by very quickly sometimes doesnt it! We did have a lovely little break though, and did all the usual things so I won't bore you with a day to day account!

Menorca, if you havent ever been, is a lovely island especially if you like reasonably quiet, family, beach holidays - mind you, we did go before the UK schools broke up. Silver sand and turquoise warm sea. As I was sea-walking and swimming on Sunday I was feeling sad that we were leaving the next day. I would recommend Cala Galdana, it is a pretty resort, and our hotel, the Audax was super - excellent food and facilities.

We went on two trips - both on boats. One was a sunset cruise round the harbour at Mahon - which is the second largest natural harbour in the world (Pearl Harbour is the largest). Hub3 chose this trip - it would be nice to think he chose it to be romantic but I think he just likes going in boats! We had had cloudy skies and rain from Monday to Wednesday, but by the evening on Wednesday it was fine, and we had our little cruise and drank champagne (they called it champagne but it was cava). The crew played romantic songs on the sound system as the sun went down, and it was very very pleasant. The boat went past the houses which are the 'Beverley Hills' of Menorca, including where Richard Branson's parents live, apparently. Super villas I have to say. There is a lovely pink one that Nelson had built for Emma Hamilton but she never lived in it (see photo) When we left the boat we had time to find a restaurant for supper. Believe it or not, a couple on the coach headed straight for a Chinese, but we walked along and found a cosy little family run place. I had grilled sardines to start and then fish (can't remember which but it was delicious) for main and Hub3 had Gazpacho and then a very rare steak - his joke is that a good vet could put it back on its feet but I find the blood oozing on his plate disgusting.

As you can see from the photos, Angel's lovely Purplecoo shopper came with us. Hub3 was happy to carry it for me but said he ought to have a bag with 'I'm not a Purplecoo bag lady, I'm just married to one' bag himself! I can vouch that the handles are very strong cos I brought it on the plane home stuffed with duty frees!

The second boat trip was a full day one on a catamaran going up the North coast and exploring some golden coves with a BBQ on board. I like boats and being on the water but was afraid I would feel seasick so I took a tablet to solve the problem. It was a wonderful day. The sea was deep deep almost indigo blue, the sun was gorgeously hot. I am like a lizard and can lay out all day. There was shade of course for those who can't. There was only about 35 of us on board, incuding the crew and about 8 children, 7 years and up I guessed. One of the things I like about Menorca and particularly about this boat trip was that there were none of this nanny-state stuff. When we got on board the guide seemed more concerned that we should not flush anything down the loo than that the parents should watch their children, and not let them do this, or climb on that. I like that. Its so tiresome here sometimes with signs everywhere and strict instructions...... when Hub3' s mother had an open garden day this summer she had to have signs up saying that if it rained the paths might be slippery. I hate all that sort of thing, and this compensation culture. Anyway, on this boat the kids climbed about and everyone kept an eye on them and it was great.

We anchored a little way from a beach, and swam and snorkelled off the boat. Well I didnt snorkel. I've done it before and its not really my thing, and I'm not a strong swimmer. The BBQ was delicious - just simple meats and a simple lettuce, onion and tomato salad, but that sort of thing always tastes fantastic in the right setting, doesnt it?

The kids all got together in a little group and despite having about 3 languages between them, giggled and laughed and were a delight to watch. It's great to watch kids just playing hand games and interacting and laughing about nothing.

Hub3 and I reckoned that the crew had chosen the particular spot we stopped at on purpose, as not far away there was a luxury boat half submerged (see bad photo) Apparently it had gone down a day or so before. The sea was so calm we couldnt imagine anyone getting into difficulties. The crew got out a little motor boat and sped off........ and came back with various portable items. Don't know if that sort of salvage mission is allowed, but that's what they did!

The rest of the time we just lazed about really, probably eating and drinking too much. I only put on 1lb thankfully, but the weight does tend to creep up on me.

I discovered that Hub3 doesnt like lying on beaches and nothing is going to make him. I've only had one beach holiday with him before - also in Menorca - and four years ago when we first got together and took 6 kids out with us to a villa. The villa had a pool and although we did go to a couple of beaches, he seemed ok with a lounger and a book under an umbrella, while me and the kids sunbathed and swam. And when the kids hired one of those pedalos with a slide off it, he came out on it and seemed to enjoy himself. So I wasnt really prepared for him not wanting to come on the beach this time. The first few days were cloudy but as soon as possible I wanted to get out there.... on the beach!

I love beaches like the beach at Cala Galdana. I think it is a much more sensual experience than at the pool. I am seduced by the water that varies from translucent water colour to palest eau-de-nil to deep aquamarine. I prefer the sounds and smells I even adore rubbing gritty sun-lotion on to myself, but Hub3 said he hates what he calls 'all this greasing up b*ll*cks!' I know I don't paint a very good picture of him sometimes in my blogs...... we are actually the greatest friends (in general) and I have learnt not to try to make him do things he doesnt want to do.... after all he doesnt make me go to the pub and listen to his mates talking about steam engines and the like! So I spent many hours on the beach alone this holiday and would have been pleased to have one of you to keep me company! Its like the old joke - Why do women like threesomes? So there's someone to talk to after he falls asleep! I read lots of paperbacks, and was really quite content, but sometimes as I walked about or swam and saw other couples together I did feel a bit jealous.I could've stayed with him by the pool, but I much prefer the beach to the pool - I like the noise in the background and people-watching (more interesting variety on the beach).... and you get a better tan I reckon! I've come back with quite a good tan too but at this rate it will fade fast, or else I will just go rusty!

Of course we had breakfast and lunch and dinner together. There was entertainment each night at the hotel and we chatted with a few other couples. The pools were lovely too - shaded by trees and everywhere there were flocks of chirpy little sparrows, very tame, who came looking for crumbs and sipped the water of the pool, and had funny little baths at the edge. Probably not very hygienic but cute nonetheless.

At the beginning of the holiday I was determined to stay fit. I wouldnt eat too much and I would do my Pilates every day and blah blah blah.... well of course it all went out of the window, but one little 'rule' I made myself was that I wouldnt take the lift, I would always use the stairs (we were on the third floor) and I did stick to that so felt fairly virtuous. Hub3 kept the pledge with me!

One day while he was lounging by the pool I went on a little explore and walked over the rocks and through a wooded area to a pretty little beach called Macarella. It was half an hour walk there, and of course back, so that was an hour's walking, and there were 250 steps down to the beach.... and up again. That day I probably reached the 10,000 steps a day target!

Oh well I'm rambling on as usual...... so that's its for now.

Bikini's .... and packing.... and things....

2007-07-05T21:47:00.000+01:00

At my Pilates class the other day we had got on to the subject of how critical ones kids can be. Some of the mums - most much younger than me - were saying that their kids do things like pinch their muffin top and say 'Why have you got this Mum?' or 'Why are your breasts so saggy?'. I have to say I was quite horrified and said 'I hope you tell them off!' . What I mean is, if my girls had said this to me I would have explained that a woman's body has to do a lot of things - grow babies, feed them, etc - and is not always in the best of shape afterwards, and that its rude to make personal remarks, and that they wouldnt like me commenting and critisizing their body.

We then went on to the subject of bikinis and I was amazed when my Pilates teacher, who has the loveliest, slimmest, flexible body -but with nice rounded bits too! - said that she wouldnt wear a bikini. Ever. Full stop. She also said that she felt that when a woman got to 40 there are some bits that she just shouldnt show in public. Many of the other women in the class agreed with her. Now she is just over 40 and I'm 50 and quite happy to wear a bikini in a situation where others are wearing swimwear. I don't think that when you get past 40 you should have to hide bits of you! Now I don't know what her midriff looks like, because she always has a top on, but it is very flat! Mine isnt; it is rather more tummy-shaped, although, from Pilates, better than it was! I'm lucky that I have hardly any stretch marks - maybe due to luck, or genes, or the fact that I slathered myself in enriching creams when I was pregnant from day one!

What I am trying to say is, and have probably said before, WHY should a woman feel she has to cover-up.... especially on a beach where she knows no-one. Even if other people see and judge... thinking that woman is stretchmarked/fat/too old ..... then so what? You don't know what they are thinking and you don't know them.It certainly doesnt offend me if I see ANYONE in a bikini, whatever age they are or whatever their body is like. Enjoy the sun and wear a bikini if you want to, is my motto!

I am taking two new ones to Menorca (going Mon 9th July). One is bright pink and the other is bright turquoise.

Hub3 thinks it is amusing that I have already started to pack - putting the open suitcases in his daughter's room (she is away working). I always put beach towels and a couple of plastic bags at the bottom. The bags are for dirty washing/wet beach stuff. He will pack in about 5 mins the night before we go.

We are only going for a week, and I don't want to overload my case so I have to seriously consider what I want to take...... mmmm EVERYTHING!

Products are heavy.... but I need so much.... sun lotion, shampoo, body lotion,toothpaste, face creams, make up, just-in-case stuff like diowhatsit and paracetomol. Its alright for him to say I take too much but he'd want a paracetomol straight away if he needed one!

We haven't been abroad alone ever. We've been to Menorca before the summer after we first got together as a couple. That time we took six kids with us - aged between 10 and 16. His eldest daughter and her boyfriend, my youngest daughter and a friend, and his younger two kids. It was a stressful (managing all those personalities) but enjoyable holiday. But I'm glad its just us this time. We are staying in the Cala Galdana area which looks beautiful and intend to just chill out - lie in the sun and read, sip cocktails (in his case gulp beer), take a boat trip, find the best restaurants, make love, SLEEP (that's for him - poor love, working nights, he NEVER gets enough sleep!)

Em will be left in charge of the homestead, Yorkie and the doves. I absolutely HATE leaving Yorkie, but I wouldnt have a life if I didnt.

I will be taking my Angel-made Purplecoo shopper, and will take a photo of it on a beach!

What happened on Monday - none of it pleasant.

2007-06-26T15:30:00.000+01:00

I went to see the mum and kids I support through Home Start. Of course it is all confidential, but I don't see that I am betraying anything through putting some of it on here. She is just a mum, under 25 years of age and with three children, 4 years and under, living in difficult circumstances. There are probably thousands like her.

Ok, so I arrived at the door of her flat at the usual time. I could see her plodding down the stairs through the frosted glass door. She unlocked it and turned and plodded back up without looking at or speaking to me. I will call her Emily. 'How're things?' I asked as I followed her up. She grunted. 'So bad you won't look at me?' She grunted again. The staircase is steep, and narrowed by something on practically every step - buggies, boxes, bags. It is carpeted but filthy - dirt, sweet papers, you name it. At the top you turn and there is immediately a stairgate which we usually climb over. It is open. She went straight into the kitchen without looking at me. I tried to fasten the stairgate - the only barrier between the kids and the steep stairs. 'I can't fix the gate' I called, 'I broke it in a temper' she replied quite calmly.

One of the kids was screaming in the living room, but it was not the sort of screaming you have to attend to immediately, so I went into the kitchen. Emily was standing at the sink blood coursing down her arm from several wounds and over her hand. She was washing it off with the other hand. I could tell immediately that she had done it to herself, and I knew she had self-harmed in the past. 'Oh girl, what've you done?' I said. 'It's ok' she said. Some of the wounds were quite deep. I gave her a hug, and asked her what she'd done it with. 'Scissors' she said, producing and washing them. 'But why?...' I said. 'I don't know' she replied. 'Did you do it because I was coming, and would see?' I asked 'Did it make you feel better?'. She answered no to both those questions.

I advised her to hold her arm up and put pressure on the wounds for a minute while I investigated the screaming. Baby was on the floor, and was ok. Middle child was wedged in a chair and was rescued by me. Eldest child nowhere to be seen, but discovered playing with water in the bathroom very soon.

I called the room 'the living room' but you can't do any sort of living in it really. I was brought up to say sitting room, and in our sitting room here in the cottage you can sit.... and read, or go on the lap top or watch tv. At this place, the sofa and chair are covered in piles of clothes and other things, so you can't sit comfortably. The floor is covered with toys (thats ok) but also bits of food - bread, crisps, nappies. There is no room to do anything. The tv is permanently on (I switched it off); there is no structure. The kitchen is worse - mounds of unwashed clothes - like a mound that reaches up to my knees; unemptied bin - used nappies, uneaten food.

I went back to Emily. She had nothing to put on the wounds and one was continuing to bleed. I had a plaster in my bag, and we put that over the worst one. Emily seemed a little better, and when I suggested she come and sit down, she said she had to feed the baby, and started to get the food ready.I went to play with the kids while she did so. The baby was still in night clothes; the other kids were wearing an odd assortment and their hair was very tangled. They are beautiful kids, and to give Emily her due they are always clean and fed.

The eldest child said 'You've hurt your arm' and Emily was immediately defensive 'No, I havent!'. I just said Mummy scratched it on the cupboard, but later said that they will notice everything, and think it's the norm. They will do what you do.

After the baby had been fed, the middle one was whingey and Emily put her to bed.Then the eldest fell asleep on the sofa. It was relatively quiet and so we could talk. I can always think of things to say, and she will answer me, but rarely brings up a topic. I didn't really go on about the self harming. She said and I suppose if you look at it that way it is a good thing - that she would rather hurt herself than hurt the kids! She loves her kids, and is a good mum, considering the circumstances, but how can I get her to see that she deserves more? How can I encourage her to make her bloke do more to help?

The last time I went the eldest two kids' bunk bed was broken. She had put the top mattress on the floor next to the bottom bunk. She reckoned she could fix the bed if she had a screwdriver and screws. I said that that was the sort of thing she ought to encourage her partner (part time partner and waste of space in my opinion) to do. As her 'task' that week I asked her to ask him nicely and without aggression to please fix the kids' bed. She said that would be hard for her to do. Now that was two weeks ago as she cancelled last week. And the bed has not been fixed, even though she said she'd asked him and he had said he would.

The whole place was the worst I've ever seen it. She was the lowest I've ever seen her. The only good thing was that she had a new (to her) sofa and armchair. Apparently partner's gran had been chucking it out, and offered it. Partner brought it over. I said 'Well that's one good thing he's done'. She then explained that if he hadnt he would've been sleeping on the old, broken one. We then started talking about their relationship and got side-tracked. I wish I'd pointed out that he was prepared to go to some effort to bring himself in something to sleep on, but in two weeks hadn't managed to fix his kids' bed. Hub3 goes mad when I tell him all this - he doesnt approve of men who don't look after their women and kids. Neither would've my father. Poor Emily - if you saw the situation; it's hard to describe the squalour, and I come back to my lovely peaceful home......

So Emily and the kids are very much on my mind at the moment. I have to inform Home Start of things, and have reported the self-harm..... but I wish I could get her out of that place and into somewhere more suitable. Somewhere with a garden. I've told her she deserves it and the kids deserve it. She has to believe it before it will happen. I now intend to keep pushing one of the co-ordinators to see if she can be re-housed. She said she hadn't been out of the flat for four days, and she hadn't taken eldest to nursery school for weeks. Eldest had induction at school today, as starting in September. I do hope she managed to keep that appointment.

The other thing that happend was I went to the doctor as I have been suffering with post-coital bleeding. Yup, not good. Anyway, he examined me and says it is a cervical erosion and I now have to wait for an appointment with a gynae to come up. No doubt the appointment will come while I am on holiday as he said I won't get a letter for two to three weeks. I'm not precisely worried as I had a negative smear in April, but neither does it make me feel very happy. If anyone has suffered this I would be interested to hear how it worked out - if you don't mind telling.

To everyone

2007-06-23T19:07:00.001+01:00

I have been out all day, and just come on. I am very sorry if anything I said has made Zoe feel uncomfortable and delete her blog and profile. I'm sure most of you know that I would not have wanted that. Hub3 swears all the time and as I said I have no prob with four letter words but do not like, as someone said on another post, the Lord's name being mixed up with them. It doesnt seem right, to me, and I was only airing my personal opinion but at least, unlike anonymous, whoever you are, I am prepared to put my name to it.

Since I was the one who came on here and encouraged Zoe to start blogging, I'm very upset that she has withdrawn again. Angel has said it all so much better than I ever could.

Maybe I shouldnt have mentioned the swearing.... I'm very sorry everyone.

Faith

The Ring!

2007-06-14T17:40:00.000+01:00

I was married but hadnt yet had Cee so I was about 20 - 21 years old (late 1970's) As I said in my list of 8, I used to run a little bric a brac stall and often went to local events to get stuff to sell. The day I found the ring, I went to a school fete in the next town. I arrived half an hour early - the worst that could happen would be that they wouldn't let you in but you'd be well up the queue!

No-one was on the gate so I wandered in and found a stall set up to sell jewellery. I don't know if it was the first stall I looked at. Someone had made a rough cardboard stand with slots in for rings. There were all kinds ranging from cracker rings to costume jewellery. A large oval ring caught my eye. It looked like an opal but it was pretty large and flashy. I didn't think it could be real, especially stuck in with all the other cracker rings. I took it out of the slot and looked at it, and then put it back! I actually walked away but decided that it was only 10p and I might as well buy it anyway. Don't laugh - but you could get more for 10p in those days. I don't know what the equivalent worth of 10p is nowadays, but maybe 50p? *

I did know something about stones and fine jewellery because my father was very interested in that sort of thing, and every year when we went on holiday to Guernsey (which we did EVERY year from my age of 7 to 16! My parents were boring and conventional!) we went to visit this jeweller in one of the little back streets off St. Peter Port, and he would lock the shop and take us into his back room..... unroll a midnight blue velvet cloth and spill all these loose rubies, emeralds, diamonds, sapphires, topazes, amethysts, garnets, aquamarines, opals...... on to it for us to look at. It was like Aladdin's cave.

I browsed on the stall. There was a locket in a box and someone had obviously realised it was silver, as there was a hand-written tag saying 'Silver - £1'. I didnt buy that. I then found a beautiful bracelet of tumbled turquoises and river pearls, each stone was encased in a delicate silver cage; it was all twisted and intricate. I had no doubt that was real, and bought it - can't remember the price, but I gave it to my second eldest sister for her next birthday because it was very much 'her'.

So I brought the cracker ring home and examined it carefully. It had beautiful colours - salmon pink, light clear green, turquoise and several diamond like stones round it. Maybe with a magnifying glass or maybe in a good light, my eyes were better then, I discovered it had 9 ct gold engraved on the inside band which was quite exciting as I realised the diamonds and opal must be real too.

Looking back I think the opal ring, the turquoise and pearl bracelet and the silver locket probably all came from the same source. Maybe an old lady's jewel box? I hope I looked carefully at the time and didnt miss any other goodies! Nowadays this is unlikely to happen - people are too wised up to the value of stuff.

Turquoise colours, as in the ring, are very much my colours - they suit me and the ring fitted me, so must have been meant. I only wear it occasionally as it is rather bling and not a day to day ring. I remember wearing it to a do with Hub1 and this woman (the kind I don't like) leant across the table and said to me 'I so admire your husband's taste in opals'. 'Actually' I replied 'I bought it myself!'

Many years later, when I was with Hub2, we were burgled. Horrible experience as anyone who has had it happen to them will know. My engagement ring was stolen and many other pieces, either fairly valuable or of great sentimental value also went. I thought the ring had gone too, and was very very upset. But later that year, after I took down some winter clothes that had been stored in the loft, I found it in the pocket of a velvet jacket! I remember staring at it in disbelief!

At one of the infrequent times I wore it I noticed that the stone was loose in the setting and decided to have it looked at by a jeweller. A lady had been advertising in a local magazine and I went to see her. I also took another opal ring which is like a round daisy - opal in the middle and little opals all round; this one was missing an opal and I wanted it replaced. The lady was a bit odd, but had a fantastic workshop and although she smelt heavily of booze I decided to go with it,and left the jewellery with her. She did the work and it appeared ok.

So, the ring came with me when I moved here to the cottage and started living with Hub3-to-be. Another opportunity to wear it came up as one of my nephews was getting married. I had a bad jewellery day that day as I had two items break on me. The first was my little pearl drop on a gold chain that snapped - I had had that when I was a bridesmaid aged 9 for my eldest sister. The second incident was when my second eldest sister (who loves jewellery and is very aware of it) suddenly said 'Oh your opal's gone!'. The ring was on my finger but the stone had fallen out! That bl**dy drunk jeweller hadnt fixed it properly! I didnt have long to panic, as someone said 'Here it is' and picked it up from the ground at my feet. Thank goodness!

I didnt do anything about it for a long time, but when Hub3 and I were going to be married I thought I'd like to wear it for the wedding and took it to another jeweller who family members had used and said was very good.

'I'd like to see if you can do anything with this' I said and produced the ring. He examined it for quite a long time under his eye glass. 'You do realise this is worth at least a couple of thousand don't you?' he said. I told him the story of how I got it, and said that as I wasn't going to sell it, it didnt really matter what it was worth, but very nice to know!

The jeweller said that it was a mystery to him why such a valuable stone should be in such a poorly done setting. Although the gold and diamonds are real, the setting at the time, according to him was something that a learner might have made. But why would a learner be practising on such a stone? We will never know. The jeweller suggested how to rework the setting so that the stone was completely secure, and did so in time for my wedding. He charged quite a bit but it was completely worth it as I couldnt wear it as it was.

I have always liked opals. When I was a little girl I used to go into that section of the Natural History Museum and stare and stare at them; wishing I could break the glass of the cases and run away with them! Although they say opals are unlucky, apparently that was a myth put round by the diamond sellers as opals were more popular many years ago! Certainly opals in my family have been lucky. We all wear them. Mummy has the most gorgeous pendant which is a milky but fiery opal ball on a fine chain. Second eldest sister bought a wonderful opal ring in Australia last year - its a really fiery emerald green and purply opal, surrounded by diamonds. She always wears bling and it suits her!She has another little fire opal, sort of orangey-purply that one, and she bought it years ago and it now only fits her little finger. When she bought it she didnt have quite enough money, so the stall holder let her off the rest if she gave him a kiss - which she did!

So that's the story of my opal ring. It's been with me now for about thirty years, and one day will have to move on. Nothing really belongs to us, we are only custodians!

Ps Photos don't do the ring justice - it is brighter and more fiery.

* http://www.measuringworth.com/ calculates it from 38p to 73p (fascinating website)

Accepting the tagging challenge

2007-06-11T08:16:00.000+01:00

1. I used to run a little bric-a-brac stall in my old home town. They had a market every Saturday. At the time I worked about three days a week as a secretary and on free days I scoured charity shops and other outlets for goodies for my stall.

2. As a 21 year old stupidly thought I could ride a friend's motor-bike - got on and crashed. Found out later that I was pregnant. Luckily I was fairly ok and just needed patching up and the baby was ok too although I worried for the whole pregnancy.

3. I once bought a ring for 10p at a school fete. It is worth at least a couple of thousand pounds. I might blog about that actually!

4. I was a Registered Childminder for over 14 years, and also an avid member and fundraiser for the NCT (National Childbirth Trust). Once I was changing a dirty nappy and talking to Dr. Hugh Jolly (Very famous at the time and Britain's answer to Dr. Spock) on the phone at the same time - not out of preference, he just called at the wrong time!

5. Big admission here - I used to collect Ty Beanie Babies (and still do if it's a nice one!) particularly the realistic looking animals. I probably have over 200 and intend to play with them with my grandchildren - if I ever have any.

6. I used to do a lot of competitions; it was a major hobby of mine. I won loads of good prizes including a family holiday to Florida (Em was involved in that one).

7. The oldest clothes I possess or rather look after are family Christening robes. They are over 150 years old. The oldest item of clothing I have that I still wear (in the garden) is a Fat Willy's Surf Shack, Newquay T-shirt which is about 17 years old. I see they are online nowadays www.fatwillyssurfshack.co.uk Oh actually I also have a nice white sleeveless cotton blouse with broderie anglais on it that is probably older than that, it must be 25 years old. Everyone always comments on it when I wear it cos it's so fresh and pretty.

8. I wrote a book for young children, but it wasn't accepted and I gave up! I am basically a dreamer and not a doer!

Going Back in Time - last bit

2007-06-08T21:50:00.000+01:00

After leaving our grandparents' old home Vee wanted to go to the church they used to go to which was just up the road. No doubt I was taken there too, but I didnt remember it and although we were lucky enough to get inside, nothing jogged my memory. I say lucky enough as so many churches are locked during the day to prevent theft and vandalism - very sad I always think. Vee remembered carved angels, and there were some - but not as big or as many as she remembered.

We were starving when we left and went into Richmond Park and sat on a bench and ate our packed lunches and chatted. I don't see Vee very often, but we get on reasonably well together as long as we avoid controversial subjects e.g. when I was splitting up with Hub2 and getting together with Hub3 she very much disapproved and never ONCE asked me how I was feeling/coping etc. At the beginning she said 'I think you'll end up poorer and not much happier'. Hmm, I certainly don't feel poorer, although I have less assets than I did before, and I can say, hand on heart, that despite any problems me and Hub3 have, I am definitely much happier! So she was wrong! But as I say, we don't talk about such things!

We then wandered into Pembroke Lodge, which is a tea-place with rooms upstairs you can hire. A wedding was upstairs at the time. Not my idea of a good wedding venue, with the world and his wife having tea downstairs! The gardens are lovely there though.

We drove around the park for a while with me leaning out the window trying to get photos of the deer. You can't stop anywhere except the proper car parks, and of course the deer don't pose next to those!

We then went to Kew for tea which we had planned. It was only two hours after lunch, but never mind! We knew this place would get busy. It is called The Original Maids of Honour and serves these special pastries that were supposed to have been made by King Henry VIII 's cook and were being sampled by Anne Boleyn and her ladies. Henry came upon them eating these delights, and named them 'Maids of Honour'. They are sort of custardy and lemony too, very delicious. We had the full cream tea for two - which was two enormous scones each with strawberry jam and thick clotted cream, and choice of any pastry or a Maid of Honour. We had the M's of H of course! Needless to say I didn't want any supper that night and quite resented having to make Hub3 something!

The tea room has a website - www.theoriginalmaidsofhonour.co.uk I think it is. The website's not that great, and the tea room itself isnt either, really, but it's traditional, and very near Kew Gardens if you want to go there. They do lunches too - 2 sittings and I believe you have to book.

We walked around the shops at Kew for a little while but nothing struck us as being very buyable, and all was expensive. The more money I seem to have, the less I want to buy. Funny isnt it?

We then drove home, coming back a different way, so we could drive through Bushey Park, where we used to play a lot as children and exiting at Lion Gate, Hampton Court. We are both very fond of Hampton Court too.

We had had a very enjoyable, certainly very different day.... and very sisterly too!

Going Back in Time - Part 3

2007-06-05T21:32:00.000+01:00

So there we were looking at this grave, which was supposed to be Goo-Goo's, and which bore the name of Andrew Reid. Did I have the right plot number Vee wondered? Yes I did, I had checked and double checked. Now this grave did have a headstone, and while we both stared blankly at the name and dates, something else, long buried in our memories, occurred to both of us at the same time. Underneath the name was inscribed 'Gran'. We vaguely remembered Grandma's stories of the past and something 'clicked'. Wasn't 'Gran' the nickname for that lodger....?

Now Grandma had two other sisters besides Goo-Goo (Augusta) and the eldest one was called Marie. Marie never married and I think lived in her parents' home after they died, and took in lodgers, one of whom was 'Gran'. I remember, as an adult, talking to Daddy and this 'Gran' and Marie came into the conversation. 'Do you think they were lovers?' I asked Daddy. 'Probably' he replied 'People don't change much'. He meant, I assume, that no matter what the morals of the era, people still have the same urges!

But the mystery is - why was our beloved Aunty Goo-Goo buried in the same grave as this man? Daddy never said she was. I'm seeing my mother soon and will see what she remembers. It is possible that my eldest two sisters - 16 and 18 years older than me - might know something too.

I wanted to look for another family grave that was there, but Vee said we must leave immediately as we mustn't be late getting to our grandparent's old home. She was the driver and I'm the younger sister so I did what I was told and got a move on!

Immediately when we drove into the road I felt completely at home. It's still a nice quietish residential road, with little trees.... and when I saw the postbox on the corner I thought 'I remember you' and I gave it a pat as I went past. I very much like postboxes!

I didnt feel nervous at the door or anything. It looked the same, except the door was blue and we think it may have been brown or dark red. The house name plate was the same. They had kept the name! Ard Lui. Vee said that it was the furthest point north that Grandma and Grandpa went on their honeymoon. I never knew that. The lady owner, Anne, opened the door and she was welcoming and friendly. I gave her flowers that we'd brought and we stepped inside where we hadn't been for 38 years.

The decor was different, of course, but in essence the house was the same. I think it was the spaces between things which seemed so familiar, or rather were just the same as they were. The length of the hall, the space between doors, the stairs.

We first went into the sitting-room, the room at the front of the house. We told Anne where Grandpa's mini grand piano had stood. I remember plonking the keys and singing along to it! We used to do 'plays' and Grandma, Grandpa and Goo-Goo would patiently sit and watch, and probably grabbed forty winks at the same time!

Then we went into the dining-room which has a door (now modern) onto the garden. I felt slightly tearful as I went in, but Vee doesnt 'do' tears so I composed myself. Anne had a beautiful Burman cat sitting in a chair, and Vee also keeps Burmans, so they had a catty chat and I looked around. (Burmans are like fluffy Siamese and have beautiful blue eyes).

I thought that one room that would have probably completed changed would be the kitchen. It really hadnt changed much. Ok, Grandma's mangle wasnt there, but it was very much a simple 70's kitchen with cupboards, and stainless steel sink, and very much as it was in the 60's as we remembered it.

We stepped out into the garden - Grandpa's little rockery was still there.... and with several plants we remembered on it! Ann said 'Oh yes, they come up year after year'. The apple tree was gone. We could see the place where the coal bunker had been - a concrete base. One of the photocopies of a photo I had sent was of my parents standing in the garden there, as a newly weds. Anne said she and her husband had worked out where they had been standing by looking at the background, and the roofs. The lilac was still there (but not out of course). I was pleased about that - my family is very fond of lilac, and have no qualms about bringing it into the house although some people say it is unlucky.

Then we went back into the house, and were invited upstairs. How strange to walk up those stairs that we had clattered up and down so freqently so many years ago. The stained glass window that Grandpa had put in was there - but it wasnt the window of my memory. I remembered it being large and colourful like one in a church, but it wasnt, it was small and square and similar to the rest of the stained glass on the windows and door at the front of the house. I was disappointed.

The front smallest bedroom had been Grandpa's workshop - and filthy, covered in wood shavings and little snippets of metal and all manner of tools. Now it was just a little room with dollies on the bed. Grandpa and Grandma's bedroom was next, at the front of the house. When I was a child and staying there with Vee as well, she used to sleep with Goo-Goo and I used to sleep in the bay window in this room. They had a curtain to separate me from them. I used to like waking up behind my curtain in my little 'room'.

The back bedroom was Goo-Goo's. Standing in it, it seemed much larger. Mostly things appear smaller when you are an adult, but I think this house appeared larger because it didnt have the big old furniture in it, and it wasnt cluttered with little tables, lamps, foot stools etc. I remembered being 7 or so and with Goo-Goo in the room when she pulled out her pot from under the bed and used it in front of me. I was terribly embarrassed and looked out of the window while she was thus engaged. The loo was only next door, but maybe someone was in there - but I think actually she was brought up in a different way of life and didnt think anything of it. I know her birthdate if I look it up but not sure as I type - she was born in 1880's anyway.

The loo and bathroom were separate when we were children and still were. We were amazed that it appeared that the loo, bath and basin hadnt been replaced! Anne said that she and her husband had moved in in the 70's and hadnt replaced them. I'm sure they were the same. The very basin that I used to run up and clean my teeth at so frequently, just because I loved the taste of Grandma's tooth powder. It was in a little pot and you dipped your damp brush in. I seem to remember it was a pale green colour. It felt very cosy that it was the same bathroom!

As we came down the stairs behind Anne, someone came to the front door and she let her daughter, daughter's husband and child in..... after brief hellos, we said goodbye and were outside again. I took some photos though Vee thought it was a bit rude. I said why is it rude, anyone could come along and take photos of the front of the house!

We were both so glad we went. Vee doesnt talk much about emotional stuff and she didnt then but I knew she was glad! Daddy had sold the house when I was about 12 in '69, after renting it for a few years. We found out from Anne that the people who bought it never moved into it as they had had a disappointment with adoption and decided that the house was 'unlucky'. Vee and I totally disagreed with that! and so, no doubt, did Anne because she and her husband knew these people at the time and persuaded them to sell to them, which they did, and they'd been there ever since. Very happy, and only having one child. Which was like Grandpa and Grandma, who only had one child (Daddy). It made me happy thinking that the house had only really had one proper owner since we left- you can't count tenants, and then the first people didnt live in it so they don't count either!

We were lucky I suppose, to go back and find it so unchanged..... the doors were the same, the staircase was, the bathroom was...... It was a very comforting experience. I could never never never go back to my parents' old home where I was brought up because it would be too painful, but this was a step removed.

There is a little more to our big day out, and I will finish that next time. Thanks for reading!

PS The house wasnt lopsided,but somehow my photo is!

Going Back in Time - Part 2

2007-06-04T21:11:00.000+01:00

Now I have set the scene a little, I will launch into the account of the day's outing. I met up with Vee, my sister, at a place where I could leave my car, we could both go to the loo and then set off. She knows the area better than I do as she used to live there.

The only time we had to stick to was arriving at our grandparent's old home at 11.30 am . We went first to our parent's first 'home of their own'. When they first married they had lived with Daddy's parents, and then rented a house in the same road, but after that they bought this place, and Vee had lived there for the first three and a half years of her life and remembered quite a lot about it. I had never seen it before. It turned out to be a nice house and I could understand why Mummy and Daddy chose it (well I think Mummy chose it!). It had a little play park just opposite. Vee said that in the old days it was just a green area with trees, with an iron railing - now it had swings, little slide etc. The roses in my first blog were tumbling over the house's fence. They looked like old roses and I took a photo in case my mother would remember them.

It was now about half past ten and we decided to go to the cemetery. We had the plot numbers but no idea if the graves would be easy or hard to find. The cemetery is huge, but I had already been on their extremely well organised website. You can type in a person's name, even just the surname and any details you have, or even none, and find out all the people of that name buried there. I had confirmed what I already knew, and found out some other interesting details too. Not all cemeteries have such good website cos I tried a few others. Luckily it was not raining, in fact quite pleasant, and we parked easily and availed ourselves of the loo facilities there. There were also paper maps, and other info put out for visitors. Despite being in the right section of the cemetery and trying to work out the burial by numbers order it took us a fair while to find Grandpa's grave. Vee found it first. I think we were both a little disappointed that it was so simple, but not surprised. There was no headstone, just Grandpa's initials and surname on the side and his dates, and 'At Rest' at the foot. We were not surprised there was no headstone. Daddy hated cemeteries because Grandma and her sisters, including Goo-Goo, had dragged him there, he said, every Sunday when he was little to 'tidy up' the family graves. Daddy had a funny idiosyncrasy of calling cemeteries 'symmetries' - I can hear him saying it now! Because he hated cemeteries and believed when you were dead you were dead, full stop, he wouldnt have wasted money (in his opinion) on a headstone. Grandma was buried in the same grave, we know that, but her name was not added.

I didnt feel very much, except interest, about the grave. We hadn't brought flowers, but Vee had seen those 'roses' that you get from pine cones - I don't know what they are really - under the trees, and had thought we could put some on the grave. I wanted her out of the way for a few minutes, so I said, go and get some, and off she went to search under the trees. I had brought a very little of my father's ashes with me, without her knowledge, and I quickly spread them over the grave. I did this because when my grandparents bought the plot - Grandma probably - they had bought it for three - themselves and their child (my father). Grandma was a very jealous woman in her younger years, and her son was her son. She didnt think that maybe he would prefer to be buried with his wife! Anyway, when Daddy died although we knew the grave was able to take another coffin (sorry to be morbid) we never considered it. It costs, I know, at least £1,000 just to open a grave, and that's before all the funeral costs. Daddy always used to say to us 'I'll come back and haunt you if you waste money on my funeral'. He had left all his wishes (which included ringing round at least 5 undertaker's for a quote!) and he didnt want to be buried with his parents. So that's why I did it, for Grandma's sake, but Vee would have been horrified. At the time of Daddy's cremation she and my other two sisters, and my mother, didnt want anything to do with his ashes. I collected them from the undertaker's and I sorted out what was to be done with them. They wouldnt have any part of it, I don't know why. The only people present when Daddy's ashes were buried on our little 'island' here at the cottage were me, Hub3 and my eldest niece, Daddy's eldest grand-daughter,who is also my best friend. I still have a little pot of ashes left, unbenown to anyone except Hub3. I buried some at the old house under Daddy's favourite red roses and the rest I am keeping to mix with Mummy's when she dies, if I get a chance. Mummy and Daddy were together from when she was 16 or 17 until she was 89 - so, in death, not divided. I hope you don't find all this too unpleasant to read. I find it comforting not unpleasant, but I am know I am a strange person at times!

Vee came back to the grave and arranged her pine roses prettily. Yes, we could have brought flowers, but no point really. Flowers are for the living, not the dead, especially the long long departed. Then we started searching for Goo-Goo's grave which was in another section. The place was riddled with rabbit holes and I put my foot down one, turned my ankle and crashed to the ground, hitting my hip against a grave - which all hurt, but I took the Pollyanna view that I could have broken my ankle or something worse! We found the grave number, but the headstone had someone else's name on it!

to be cont. (house photo is my parent's first own home)

Going back in time

2007-06-03T21:22:00.000+01:00

My sister and I did this trip on Saturday 19th May. Very shortly afterwards my world fell apart and it's only in the last while that I have been able to consider getting back to blogging. Thanks to everyone for your support at this horrible time, especially as none of you knew what the problem was. I hope it's gone away, but I fear not.

Anyway, the sister I went with is my nearest in age sister who I will call Vee. She is three and a half years older than me. I think I was probably born to keep her company; my mother has admitted as such.

When my father died, almost two years ago, and my mother moved out of the family home, we had to Clear the Loft! That could be a blog on it's own really! We burned an awful lot of old papers from my father's accountancy practice, but we also found a great deal of old interesting family paperwork. Daddy kept everything! Vee didnt want to house it, but I didnt feel we could burn it. I would've felt terrible if I had, so I took it all home. I found interesting information about my grandparent's home and the details of where they were buried. This inspired me to get in touch with Vee and suggest going to vist the graves.

When I say 'grandparent's' here I mean my paternal grandparents who I remember. My mother's father died before I was born,and her mother when I was two, so I don't remember them. Grandpa, Daddy's father, died when I was about 9 or 10 and Grandma, when I was 12. Prior to Grandpa getting ill, and being brought back to our family home to die, they lived in a house in Richmond, Surrey (now worth a small fortune, no doubt!)

I remember this house well. Vee and I often used to stay there. Grandpa and Grandma lived with Grandma's sister at the time I'm talking about - in their seventies - and we called her Goo-Goo (her name was Augusta and this was a childish abbreviation).

As well as visiting the graves, I got the idea in my head that I wanted to go back to Grandpa and Grandma's old home, and decided to write to the owner, whoever that was. Once I'd decided that I wanted to see the house, I knew I would get my wish granted. Sometimes I just know things - not enough to win the lottery though!

So I wrote a very nice letter explaining who we were, and enclosed photocopies of photos of Grandma and Grandpa on their wedding day, and as an older couple, and one of my parents taken at the house, in the garden. I also enclosed a photocopy of the receipt from my parents bridal flowers, which had the address of the house on it.

On the Thursday before the Saturday trip the lady who owns the house now rang me up and said she would be pleased to let us have a look round. Naturally I was delighted (but not surprised). The night before I lay in bed and tried to remember all I could about the house. It all whirled round my head.

I remembered every room, and the contents. I even remembered my feelings and thoughts and conversations. We are going back a long long time . The last time I stayed in that house I was under 9. The last time I had been inside it was when my father sold it when I was 12. The last time I laid eyes on it was when I was 16 and was in the area with a boyfriend and went to see the outside. S0 38 years since I had been inside.

I'll tell you about some things I remember. My Grandma used to have a baker's van come round and she would buy bread, and these particular pastel iced tarts for tea that I used to love. But the baker used to tease me and I was really nervous of him. I remember hiding behind my Grandma at the door. I remember my pencil broke and Grandpa went and got a knife and sharpened it for me, with a knife, not a sharpener. I remember Goo-Goo had a big dresser in her bedroom with all sorts of exciting things inside. She had mercury that rolled away when I tried to touch it - I know its dangerous now, I didnt then.

Grandma was very keen on animals and birds. She usually had several cats, and had had many dogs in the past. Everyday she would cut up and butter several large loaves, and then cut them into cubes, with great precision. She would put all this bread out on large metal pans onto her lawn and flocks of pigeons would come down and eat it. I enjoyed this daily ritual as a child, never thinking about how the neighbours must have felt about crowns of pigeons on the fences and roofs. Maybe it was from this that I got my love for my doves.

We always enjoyed staying with Grandpa and Grandma - they had old china dolls that we played with, and proper dolls beds, we were given sweets and chocolate from a special tin after lunch and they played cards with us - Strip Jack Naked, Happy Families etc. They had a bag of rubber balls that they kept in a kitchen drawer - no doubt left over from when they had dogs. There was a little slope in the garden and I spent hours just rolling the balls down it and seeing which one rolled the furthest

My most vivid memory centres around Goo-Goo. This is true - make of it what you will. I was no more than 9 years old. Goo-Goo had died and I was staying with Grandpa and Grandma and sleeping in the little bed in the room that before she died I had always shared with her ( Goo-Goo). I didn't like being alone in there and I didn't like the fact that she had died. I was scared and couldnt sleep. Suddenly the door opened and Goo-Goo came in. I knew she had come to check me, like she would've when she was alive. I didnt want her to know I was awake, so I shut my eyes, but I still 'saw' her come quietly over to the bed, and look down at me. Then she went away again. This was very very real. I don't know if I dreamt it or it happened. At the time and for years I believed it happened, even though she was dead. Now I don't know. She loved me and wouldn't have hurt me.

At around the same time in my life I had a very bad dream about a black goat. For years this dream re-occured although never as bad as the first time. I was petrified of it, but I always knew it was a dream. The happening with Goo-Goo I didnt think was a dream at the time.

To be cont...

Name my baby dove competition!

2007-05-30T21:17:00.000+01:00

Today (30th May) it finally stopped raining for a while and I had a wander round the garden. We currently have four doves of our own -John and Lily, and their young ones, Francis and Iona. Also John and Lily have been sitting on eggs. We also have many visiting doves at the moment and sometimes count a total up to 13 - goodness knows where they come from! So, I was in the garden and noticed that the nest box was empty - no mummy or daddy inside. I felt concerned but could see both John and Lily on the roof, so went to get my camera and took a pot shot inside the nest box. Imagine my surprise when I saw that the babies had hatched - there has been no empty egg shells on the ground, and I didn't even think it was time!

So in about four weeks, if all goes well, we will have two more doves to ring and name. One I think I will call Benedict. Not particularly after the current Pope, but just because I like it!The other one I thought it would be nice if you were to name!

So a little competition.... let's not get heavy about it, it's just a bit of fun. List any suggestions on the comments at the end of this blog. No more than 5 per person. And the names can be any name you like - they don't have to 'go' with Benedict or be proper names or anything - whatever you like! I will pick the one I like best and as a prize will send you a bouquet of flowers - real if you will trust me with an address, or cyber if not!

I havent asked Headmistress if I can do this, but sure she won't mind! You have plenty of time to make suggestions as I won't name them until they come out of the next box in about four weeks from now.

While blogging I would like to thank all of you for your support in my time of crisis. I feel better now but it will take me a long time to heal properly. I also hope to blog soon about the 'back to our roots' trip that my sister and I did to our grandparents old home. We had a wonderful day.

PS Sorry photo is so bad - didnt want to upset parents/babies by fiddling about!

STOP PRESS! bad news I'm afraid, as some of you may know from the CCW page, these poor little babies have died. I don't know why, it's very sad. So when I have a new clutch I will run my little naming competition again.

Birthday Blog - I am half a century old!!

2007-05-12T19:31:00.000+01:00

Today Monday 14th May 2007 I am 50 years old. Since there is nothing I can do about it, I will just have to get on with it! I don't know why the date above comes up wrong - can anyone tell me how to sort that out??

So what have I done with the fifty years God has been good enough to grant me? Oh, gosh, let's not go into it all shall we? I think I spent my childhood complaining I was bored, my teens having sex, my twenties bringing up my daughter as a married but single mum and doing a lot of voluntary work, my thirties thinking I was bored but not saying and NOT having sex, and my forties.... half of it sorting myself out and the last half having a blast!

But now, come into my sunny garden in Purplecoombe and partake of cyber flans and cream! You have a choice of strawberry or raspberry+blueberry. These flans look effective but are not really 'cooking' but ideal if you need to provide desserts quickly for barbeques etc.

How to make: In a large sized bought flan case spoon TWO made-up and set 'angel delight' vanilla packet mixes, then arrange your fruit on the top however you like, and serve with a jug of cream.

I've already celebrated my birthday really. Hub3 took me and my two daughters, and eldest daughter's boyfriend to the most expensive (and the nicest!) restaurant in our town for a gorgeous lunch yesterday. I enjoyed it even more because of this special news which I will now tell you....

My eldest daughter who turned 28 just a few days ago, but frequently gets asked for ID (which annoys her!) moved into a new house with her boyfriend on Saturday and on their first night there he asked her to marry him and has given her a beautiful solitaire diamond ring. I am very happy indeed about this. He is a lovely young man and has worked SO hard gutting this new house and turning it into a wonderful home for them both. Cee* was engaged to be married to someone else and they had set a wedding day last September. I wasnt totally convinced even in the beginning that they were right for each other, but she is a grown woman so obviously very little I could do, and no real reason to think it wouldnt work. I can't go into it all here,it would take forever and is also painful to remember but ....... it came to light that this bastard, masquerading as a devoted fiance, was subjecting my beautiful and bright daughter to domestic violence. The kind that breaks the spirit and bruises the soul and the parts of the body that don't show.

One night, when my youngest Em* was staying the night with them, and after drinking, he lost the plot entirely - locking my precious and beloved girls in the house with him, and giving neither the opportunity to get out or phone for help, he attacked Cee yet again, kicking her, shoving her and even forcing her onto the ground and p**ing on her, shouting disgusting abuse. My poor little Em, then only 17 and a slight 5' 3 , witnessed it all and protected her sister as best she could. Eventually he had worn himself out, fell asleep and the girls too slept, in a single bed, arms round each other. I found this out through my shocked and distraught Em the next day when I collected her. It took the whole half hour journey home before she could start speaking. I thought she was just in a teenage strop with me for some reason.

This happened at the end of the worst summer of my life. My father had died in June. I was selling my house and getting divorced. Then this all came out. I felt worse than when my father died. I felt hollow and empty. Didnt stop me acting straight away. I rang Cee's father first, and then, with my feisty Em, I went to Cee's work to see her. Amazingly she had just gone in as normal. The abuse had become normal for her. She was working temporarily in a bar at the time. One of those casual places where people have coffees in the morning and wine in the evenings. We walked in. And, my God, he was there! Sitting on a sofa with a newspaper spread out on the table, and an empty coffee cup as if last night had never happened. I had a split second to think. I didn't think. I just walked up to him and said 'Em told me what happened last night and it won't be happening again'. Then I walked to the bar and asked to see her - she was in the kitchen, and was rather 'anti' me at first. I said I wasnt leaving without her. She said she was going to finish her shift. I said I'd wait even if it was all day. Em and I waited an hour and a half - he had left by then. Then we brought Cee home with us. Physically and mentally worn out she fell asleep, safe with her mummy. In the next days and weeks, we managed to prise her away from him.... unbelievably she still thought she loved him. Also she hadn't realised she was being abused. This was incredibly hard for me to take. My daughter has her head switched on in general. She had bought her first property at age 19!

So you can understand why I am now so delighted that she is engaged to a lovely young man.

Not much here about me being 50, but not much to say about it. I've made myself a cake! My favourite - a Lemon Paradise Cake. For those who haven't experienced the totally yumminess of this, here's how to make: make a Victoria Sandwich and add zest of lemon to the mix. When made and cooled, make up a syrupy mix of boiled up sugar and lemon juice and drizzle over the sponges which you have first pierced by a skewer. Ice the top sponge with lemon icing and sandwich two together with filling of whipped cream. Two of my favourite tastes - lemon and cream!

My life and Cee's are now very much back on track. I've had my own problems, but things are good nowadays. I'm not going to say I'm looking forward to the next 50 years, but the next 10 might be ok! I had a relative, who I was taken to see when I was a child, only once, in hospital. My father called her Old Auntie. She was his great aunt I think, so my great great aunt. She eventually died aged 105. I don't think I want to live that long!

*- on my blogs I call my girls by their initials C and M. Hub3's daughters are Ay and Aitch!