Yet another wet day. Still I'm sure it will all brighten up when we set off to the restaurant this evening. We had contemplated going out yesterday for a meal to celebrate our wedding anniversary, but knowing we were going out today, & especially as it is a Bank Holiday, we decided against. Instead the Fox made one of his delicious Kipper & Egg Kedgerees. Later in the evening we had a bottle of pink fizz.
So we're looking forward to our meal to night. This time we're going Chinese for a change. We are fortunate in having an excellent Chinese restaurant nearby. It's the one place we can anticipate good food, & good service, even on a Bank Holiday. Places around here tend to be so inundated with tourists, things can get a bit sloppy on a Bank Holiday. Though I suspect today wouldn't have been so bad as it's turned out. It's so grey & wet I suspect most tourists will set off home early & the day trippers will never even leave home!
So, in the meanwhile, it's a case of taking it quiet so I'll be well rested for the event & stand a chance of being bright & witty company this evening.
Monday 31 August 2009
Sunday 30 August 2009
And then there eight
I was just contemplating getting on with roasting a guinea fowl for dinner yesterday evening when my eyes were drawn out of the window. Ever since we've been here, there's been a resident couple of collared doves. When we first came a very young pair used to sit on a branch of a dead tree. They sat so still. They happily let us get really close, only flying off if we put out a hand to touch them.
Since then we regularly have had a couple sat on the trellis, never very far from each other, cooing away, apparently devoted to each other, a real pair of love doves. Then last year a third appeared, causing a certain amount of disharmony at mating time.
This summer a fourth appeared. Harmony was restored.
So, yesterday I look out of the window. There are the four. No, five. Then I notice the one having a drink at the bird bath. It flies back to the trellis. By now there are not six, but eight doves sat on the trellis. No wonder the bird food is disappearing so fast! This on top of the nil blackbirds that have become four or five, the flock of starlings & the one of sparrows. The word has clearly got around that this is the best restaurant in town.
Since then we regularly have had a couple sat on the trellis, never very far from each other, cooing away, apparently devoted to each other, a real pair of love doves. Then last year a third appeared, causing a certain amount of disharmony at mating time.
This summer a fourth appeared. Harmony was restored.
So, yesterday I look out of the window. There are the four. No, five. Then I notice the one having a drink at the bird bath. It flies back to the trellis. By now there are not six, but eight doves sat on the trellis. No wonder the bird food is disappearing so fast! This on top of the nil blackbirds that have become four or five, the flock of starlings & the one of sparrows. The word has clearly got around that this is the best restaurant in town.
Saturday 29 August 2009
Gathering storm
We decide to toodle along to the Pub. It's not the most promising day but not as bad as some we've had of late. A bit of blue to be seen. As we go along the promenade & look across the bay, we're struck by the filthy grey clouds & hope they're not coming our way. As we continue the sky gets worse. Not only is there the grey we'd seen before, but now there are further dirty brown clouds, almost visibly billowing out & extending across to our side of the bay. It is reminiscent of one of my jigsaws of an old steam engine at full steam, belching out sooty black brown smoke, something you don't see much these days. A few drops of rain fall. We get to the Pub & the Fox drops me at the door while he goes to park. I get in in the dry. The Fox soon arrives too. We barely have time to say hello to everyone, get some drinks & sit down when the sky lets loose. Soon the rain is pouring down. The rain is so torrential it bounces off the pavements & road. A quick flash of lightning & a roll of thunder follow. Thank goodness we made it inside before it all began. The party is slow to end as people linger, waiting for the rain to stop before making their way home.
Friday 28 August 2009
Bright spot
Yesterday the sun shone. I couldn't stay in on such a rare day, so I decided to get out the Mean Machine & venture off to the Farmers' Market the other side of Morecambe, a 6 mile return trip, the furthest I've ever been in the Mean Machine. I'm glad to say it coped with the distance fine. The three mile there took me 45mins. It was quite a trip.
The first thing that struck me as I rounded the slight rise between us & the prom was the sheer number of windmills there now are on the other side of the Bay. The sun glinted on their white blades. As I made my way along the prom more & more windmills emerged from behind the folds of the Lakeland fells.
Coming back from the market I went along parts of the prom I've not ventured along before. In Morecambe there is a scheme called the "Tern Project". In this scheme the theme of birds - the Bay is famed for its birds, especially as a migratory stop-off place - is used to beautify Morecambe. So it is a couple of roundabouts have bird sculptures on. Railings have flights of birds. The posts outside Morrisons are topped with birds. Seats have birds on the backs. Along the section of the prom, new to me, was a fence with various wrought iron birds - huge cormorants, great curlews, etc. There was a set of short scenes portraying a peregrine falcon chasing, & subsequently catching a smaller wader. It was quite fascinating as some of the power of the falcon, the fear of the prey, the speed of flight, was captured.
It was good to see people enjoying themselves in the sun. Young families on the sand, buckets & spades at the ready, castles & dams being built. People cheerily waving & greeting one another, even complete strangers. Such a contrast with the gloom that has hung over everyone the last couple of days both metaphorically as well as literally.
Today we're back to winds, greyness & wet, a regular feature this summer. Maybe September will bring a bit more sun. It should for us at least, as we fly off to Italy. We're counting the days.
The first thing that struck me as I rounded the slight rise between us & the prom was the sheer number of windmills there now are on the other side of the Bay. The sun glinted on their white blades. As I made my way along the prom more & more windmills emerged from behind the folds of the Lakeland fells.
Coming back from the market I went along parts of the prom I've not ventured along before. In Morecambe there is a scheme called the "Tern Project". In this scheme the theme of birds - the Bay is famed for its birds, especially as a migratory stop-off place - is used to beautify Morecambe. So it is a couple of roundabouts have bird sculptures on. Railings have flights of birds. The posts outside Morrisons are topped with birds. Seats have birds on the backs. Along the section of the prom, new to me, was a fence with various wrought iron birds - huge cormorants, great curlews, etc. There was a set of short scenes portraying a peregrine falcon chasing, & subsequently catching a smaller wader. It was quite fascinating as some of the power of the falcon, the fear of the prey, the speed of flight, was captured.
It was good to see people enjoying themselves in the sun. Young families on the sand, buckets & spades at the ready, castles & dams being built. People cheerily waving & greeting one another, even complete strangers. Such a contrast with the gloom that has hung over everyone the last couple of days both metaphorically as well as literally.
Today we're back to winds, greyness & wet, a regular feature this summer. Maybe September will bring a bit more sun. It should for us at least, as we fly off to Italy. We're counting the days.
Wednesday 26 August 2009
Dark & wet
It was good to see Helen, MK's widow, at the Pub yesterday. Unfortunately there was another post funeral reception there. All that black brought back memories she doesn't need right now. She seems to be bearing up well, though she clearly has some raw edges. A few tears had to be blinked away. That's inevitable. We're having our last-Monday-of-the-month meal next week. I'm glad to say both widows, Helen & Linda, are hoping to be there. I'm glad they feel our little group is able to offer a little support & love, as they try to adjust to their new lives, without their much loved husbands.
I didn't get around to writing my blog yesterday mainly because I decided to venture down to the shops on the Mean Machine, my electric scooter, in the morning. It took rather longer than anticipated. When I came out of Morrisons, the skies let loose. Great stair-rods of water descended. I waited a while for the rain to stop, chatting with the other waiters.
Eventually it stopped & I set off. I got as far as the shelter of Aldi, still within sight of Morrisons, before it rained again. This time I decided to put my cape on. This huge thing covers not just me but most of the Mean Machine too. Again when the rain stopped I ventured on, across to the prom.
Soon it was raining again. I followed a cyclist into a shelter. He turned out to be a tourist, staying on a narrow-boat on the nearby canal. Once more it stopped & we both set off. It didn't take long for the cyclist to disappear into the distance.
Then it started raining again. The cyclist came back, shouting out he was giving up & going back. By this time, home was nearer than any other shelter so I persevered.
The journey had taken a couple of hours with all the stops. The really frustrating thing was looking across the Bay and seeing blue skies & land bathed in sunshine. I supposed they had probably felt the same earlier on. When I had been going to the shops, it was our side of the Bay that was bathed in sun & theirs covered with black clouds & great waterspouts.
Still I'm telling myself our new bog plants should be happy. Especially as it has been raining heavily all morning today.
I didn't get around to writing my blog yesterday mainly because I decided to venture down to the shops on the Mean Machine, my electric scooter, in the morning. It took rather longer than anticipated. When I came out of Morrisons, the skies let loose. Great stair-rods of water descended. I waited a while for the rain to stop, chatting with the other waiters.
Eventually it stopped & I set off. I got as far as the shelter of Aldi, still within sight of Morrisons, before it rained again. This time I decided to put my cape on. This huge thing covers not just me but most of the Mean Machine too. Again when the rain stopped I ventured on, across to the prom.
Soon it was raining again. I followed a cyclist into a shelter. He turned out to be a tourist, staying on a narrow-boat on the nearby canal. Once more it stopped & we both set off. It didn't take long for the cyclist to disappear into the distance.
Then it started raining again. The cyclist came back, shouting out he was giving up & going back. By this time, home was nearer than any other shelter so I persevered.
The journey had taken a couple of hours with all the stops. The really frustrating thing was looking across the Bay and seeing blue skies & land bathed in sunshine. I supposed they had probably felt the same earlier on. When I had been going to the shops, it was our side of the Bay that was bathed in sun & theirs covered with black clouds & great waterspouts.
Still I'm telling myself our new bog plants should be happy. Especially as it has been raining heavily all morning today.
Monday 24 August 2009
Questions, questions
I feel of late as though I've been surrounded by a phrase. I'm still trying to decide what it really means. The phrase is "terminally ill". Yes, you too will have heard the phrase in relation to the releases of Ronnie Biggs & Megrahi. But what is "terminally ill"?
My immediate reaction is that surely life itself is a terminal illness. After all, the one certainty in life is death. Some I'm sure would regard life as an illness. Certainly for some life involves long term illness & disability. So why isn't life regarded as a "terminal illness"?
More usually, an illness seems to be regarded as "terminal" when the medical profession can say, with a certain amount of confidence, that death will occur within a certain time span. So did MK, our late friend, have a "terminal illness" the moment he was diagnosed with Motor Neurone Disease? He lived on for another 3 years or so.
But doctors sometimes get it wrong. Miracles do happen. Some people with "incurable" illnesses have been known to live on far beyond expected, even having "incurable" tumours disappear as mysteriously as they arrived. Is this a case of a "terminal illness" ceasing to be "terminal"?
Or is an illness regarded as "terminal" when life expectancy is down to a few months, a few weeks even? If so, at what point does the illness change its definition to "terminal"?
My attitude to the two criminals released differs. Ronnie Biggs I can only regard as a rather unrepentant thug. A man was viciously beaten in the Great Train Robbery. Ronnie Biggs has never shown any remorse. He quickly escaped from prison & spent the rest of his life in luxury, cocking a snoot at the police. He only returned to Britain & prison in order to receive the services of the NHS, not for reasons of remorse or punishment.
Megrahi, on the other hand, has spent several years in prison. There seems to be some question hanging over him as to whether he was even guilty of the crime. In Scotland he was far away from his family & home. My only question lies in whether he is expected to die in months or years. I know people can live with prostrate cancer for a long time, years even. I have no problem with him being released if he is indeed in his last months of life. Compassion demands it, regardless of whether he was guilty & showed no compassion himself to the victims at Locherbie. Years of life ahead, though, is a different matter. Then I feel he ought to have stayed in prison until his illness had progressed further & let out nearer the time of his death.
My immediate reaction is that surely life itself is a terminal illness. After all, the one certainty in life is death. Some I'm sure would regard life as an illness. Certainly for some life involves long term illness & disability. So why isn't life regarded as a "terminal illness"?
More usually, an illness seems to be regarded as "terminal" when the medical profession can say, with a certain amount of confidence, that death will occur within a certain time span. So did MK, our late friend, have a "terminal illness" the moment he was diagnosed with Motor Neurone Disease? He lived on for another 3 years or so.
But doctors sometimes get it wrong. Miracles do happen. Some people with "incurable" illnesses have been known to live on far beyond expected, even having "incurable" tumours disappear as mysteriously as they arrived. Is this a case of a "terminal illness" ceasing to be "terminal"?
Or is an illness regarded as "terminal" when life expectancy is down to a few months, a few weeks even? If so, at what point does the illness change its definition to "terminal"?
My attitude to the two criminals released differs. Ronnie Biggs I can only regard as a rather unrepentant thug. A man was viciously beaten in the Great Train Robbery. Ronnie Biggs has never shown any remorse. He quickly escaped from prison & spent the rest of his life in luxury, cocking a snoot at the police. He only returned to Britain & prison in order to receive the services of the NHS, not for reasons of remorse or punishment.
Megrahi, on the other hand, has spent several years in prison. There seems to be some question hanging over him as to whether he was even guilty of the crime. In Scotland he was far away from his family & home. My only question lies in whether he is expected to die in months or years. I know people can live with prostrate cancer for a long time, years even. I have no problem with him being released if he is indeed in his last months of life. Compassion demands it, regardless of whether he was guilty & showed no compassion himself to the victims at Locherbie. Years of life ahead, though, is a different matter. Then I feel he ought to have stayed in prison until his illness had progressed further & let out nearer the time of his death.
Sunday 23 August 2009
A night in a hotel
It was Gaz, the owner/manager of the Pub, who first suggested it. Before his last holiday, he stayed overnight at one of the airport hotels. "You get transport to & from the airport. They checked in us & the cases so we just had to make our way over to the airport & more or less walk straight onto the plane. And the car was safely waiting for us for when we got back."
I have wondered about this before now but I had always assumed the bus would not be wheelchair accessible. No. Gaz reckoned the buses were all low-loaders.
We have contemplated driving down before now to Manchester, but the price of airport car parks are extortionate, especially if you're going to be away a couple of weeks as we usually do. And then there's the problem of maybe being so tired that you don't feel like driving back that day, especially if the plane doesn't get back in until midnight or so & you've just had a long long flight.
"What's more, we had a lovely relaxing evening. We had a swim in the hotel pool, a good meal, everything. And all for less than the price of the taxi to & from the airport from here," Gaz continued.
We decided to look into it. The return taxi to Manchester airport from here is around £95. We're now booked into a hotel for £68.10 with two weeks parking. We have family & friends in Manchester so we may even see them for part of the evening before we set off to Italy. We won't want to be up too late as the flight is at 6.25am. If nothing else we'll have an extra couple of hours - the time it takes to drive down to the airport - to sleep comfortably in bed. Mind you, I'm usually far too excited to actually sleep, but at least it will be a couple of hours of comfortable relaxation. We return just after lunchtime so we should be fine for the drive back that afternoon.
So fingers crossed everything's organised now. Just those last few things to do like haircuts & packing.
I have wondered about this before now but I had always assumed the bus would not be wheelchair accessible. No. Gaz reckoned the buses were all low-loaders.
We have contemplated driving down before now to Manchester, but the price of airport car parks are extortionate, especially if you're going to be away a couple of weeks as we usually do. And then there's the problem of maybe being so tired that you don't feel like driving back that day, especially if the plane doesn't get back in until midnight or so & you've just had a long long flight.
"What's more, we had a lovely relaxing evening. We had a swim in the hotel pool, a good meal, everything. And all for less than the price of the taxi to & from the airport from here," Gaz continued.
We decided to look into it. The return taxi to Manchester airport from here is around £95. We're now booked into a hotel for £68.10 with two weeks parking. We have family & friends in Manchester so we may even see them for part of the evening before we set off to Italy. We won't want to be up too late as the flight is at 6.25am. If nothing else we'll have an extra couple of hours - the time it takes to drive down to the airport - to sleep comfortably in bed. Mind you, I'm usually far too excited to actually sleep, but at least it will be a couple of hours of comfortable relaxation. We return just after lunchtime so we should be fine for the drive back that afternoon.
So fingers crossed everything's organised now. Just those last few things to do like haircuts & packing.
Saturday 22 August 2009
The blister mystery
As I was eating dinner on Thursday I suddenly noticed a blister had appeared on my middle finger. I pondered on this. Why should it have appeared? I could think of no time that I had burnt or trapped it, so why should a blister have appeared?
By the time I got up on Friday the blister had grown yet more. But why? I could get no further on that conundrum. I got on with preparing dinner, feeling quite anxious when I made the pastry for the bacon flans in case the blister burst & oozed into the pastry itself.
From time to time, as the day went on, my mind returned to the riddle of the blister. Blisters just don't appear without cause. And I hadn't had any accidents recently, or if I had they were so slight as not to be memorable & so unlikely to have caused a blister.
Come the evening, I got the kitchen scissors out to dice the bacon up for the flans. Instantly I realised the scissors were pressing uncomfortably on the blister. Then I remembered. When I had been boning & dicing the lamb on Thursday morning, I'd used those same scissors. Some of the fat was very thick & hard. Almost certainly this had been the cause.
So you can imagine my startled amazement, when I sat down to eat the flans half an hour later & noticed the blister had deflated. Even now there's just a small red circle where the blister had been, with a small ridge of skin along one edge. Why it should have disappeared so quickly I don't know. That's another mystery to solve.
PS the great weight that was weighing down on me on Thursday finally lifted that evening. I'm once more feeling like myself. We opened & enjoyed a bottle of rose wine to celebrate.
By the time I got up on Friday the blister had grown yet more. But why? I could get no further on that conundrum. I got on with preparing dinner, feeling quite anxious when I made the pastry for the bacon flans in case the blister burst & oozed into the pastry itself.
From time to time, as the day went on, my mind returned to the riddle of the blister. Blisters just don't appear without cause. And I hadn't had any accidents recently, or if I had they were so slight as not to be memorable & so unlikely to have caused a blister.
Come the evening, I got the kitchen scissors out to dice the bacon up for the flans. Instantly I realised the scissors were pressing uncomfortably on the blister. Then I remembered. When I had been boning & dicing the lamb on Thursday morning, I'd used those same scissors. Some of the fat was very thick & hard. Almost certainly this had been the cause.
So you can imagine my startled amazement, when I sat down to eat the flans half an hour later & noticed the blister had deflated. Even now there's just a small red circle where the blister had been, with a small ridge of skin along one edge. Why it should have disappeared so quickly I don't know. That's another mystery to solve.
PS the great weight that was weighing down on me on Thursday finally lifted that evening. I'm once more feeling like myself. We opened & enjoyed a bottle of rose wine to celebrate.
Thursday 20 August 2009
Doom laden
I'm having a black day today. I suppose it began when I woke up with a desperate urge to burst into tears. Quite why I have no idea. Is it the delayed effect of two funerals for two much loved people in one week? Is it the result of having had a rather disturbing dream about my parents & brother, all now dead? Is it just the fact it is a very dark morning? Or is it just depression re-emerging again, without any specific cause? Whatever it is, it has left me feeling very unsettled & down, not my usual perky self.
I've tried to get myself going as the morning's gone on. I've boned & diced a half shoulder of lamb. I went to get the spinach for the curry out of the fridge. At first I thought I must have put it somewhere else. Then I discovered a very soggy slimy bag. It was perfectly fine on Tuesday, so I didn't bother checking or buying any fresh yesterday when we were at the shops. I'm telling myself it doesn't matter. It's not irredeemable. We're off to the dentist come lunchtime so we can easily buy some more while we're out. The Fox I'm sure will give me a hand cooking the curry in the afternoon. He may even decide to do it himself. But it has left me still feeling doom-laden, awaiting the next mishap of the day. I'll be glad when today is over & maybe things can start to pick up again.
Meanwhile I should maybe go & have that right good cry. Maybe it will get something out of my system.
I've tried to get myself going as the morning's gone on. I've boned & diced a half shoulder of lamb. I went to get the spinach for the curry out of the fridge. At first I thought I must have put it somewhere else. Then I discovered a very soggy slimy bag. It was perfectly fine on Tuesday, so I didn't bother checking or buying any fresh yesterday when we were at the shops. I'm telling myself it doesn't matter. It's not irredeemable. We're off to the dentist come lunchtime so we can easily buy some more while we're out. The Fox I'm sure will give me a hand cooking the curry in the afternoon. He may even decide to do it himself. But it has left me still feeling doom-laden, awaiting the next mishap of the day. I'll be glad when today is over & maybe things can start to pick up again.
Meanwhile I should maybe go & have that right good cry. Maybe it will get something out of my system.
Wednesday 19 August 2009
Enlightenment, or lack of it
It never ceases to amaze me to realise how some people can use so many words to say so little. As you know I've finished reading the main part of my Italian guidebook. There is an appendix at the end, a potted history, some 5 pages of it. So, last night I thought I'd read this. My knowledge of Italian history is sketchy & I thought a bit of enlightenment would help my appreciation of what we are about to see.
Enlightenment was not forthcoming. Instead it seems to be list of the various dominant people in the area - Greeks, Etruscans, Sannites, Romans, Angevins etc etc - from 4000BC. It didn't bother to tell you anything much about what the people did apart from conquer one another, what they brought to the civilisation of the area, their contribution to the arts & architecture. No nothing as useful as that. I'm left feeling no wiser. Instead I'll just have to rake up from the depths of my mind my memories of the Greek & Roman Empires & their culture (Ancient Greek O Level & Latin O & A level). My more recent Italian history comes to Renaissance Italy (History A level) & the events of the Second World War (History O level). Since it is now some 35-40 years since I did these courses, my memory is a little rusty to say the least. And certainly it leaves vast gaps in time unexplained.
I suspect if I wrote all I could remember I doubt it would cover 5 pages but at least there would be some information to grasp hold of, unlike in this book. And I'd sought enlightenment! What a waste of time that was.
Enlightenment was not forthcoming. Instead it seems to be list of the various dominant people in the area - Greeks, Etruscans, Sannites, Romans, Angevins etc etc - from 4000BC. It didn't bother to tell you anything much about what the people did apart from conquer one another, what they brought to the civilisation of the area, their contribution to the arts & architecture. No nothing as useful as that. I'm left feeling no wiser. Instead I'll just have to rake up from the depths of my mind my memories of the Greek & Roman Empires & their culture (Ancient Greek O Level & Latin O & A level). My more recent Italian history comes to Renaissance Italy (History A level) & the events of the Second World War (History O level). Since it is now some 35-40 years since I did these courses, my memory is a little rusty to say the least. And certainly it leaves vast gaps in time unexplained.
I suspect if I wrote all I could remember I doubt it would cover 5 pages but at least there would be some information to grasp hold of, unlike in this book. And I'd sought enlightenment! What a waste of time that was.
Tuesday 18 August 2009
Getting back to normal
Life is slowly getting back to normality, just in time for us to disrupt it again next month when we go off to Italy. I thought today was going to be chance to get in the garden for a bit. The Fox is cooking - a Thai red curry - so there's no food to prepare. I've more or less finished reading my Italian guidebook. I've found all manner of wonders to visit, some of them even wheelchair accessible. Apart from learning a bit more of the language, I feel I've done about all I can by way of preparation for the holiday. I quite expect we won't get to a fraction of the places I fancy. Indeed our present state of exhaustion makes me wonder if we'll even get beyond Pompei itself. Hopefully a bit of warm sun & our sense of curiosity & wonder will revitalise us when we get there. And if it doesn't, no great loss, as long as we come back refreshed.
So having cleared my mind of these preparations, & after a couple of essentially dry, if very windy days, I thought I might venture into the garden for a little this morning. Now it's raining & I'm stuck inside once again. Our new plants look happily settled in. The globeflowers have had all their petals blown off, but at least there are some new buds which hopefully will provide a patch of gold soon. The hydrangea is still getting bluer & yet more buds are appearing. The bark mulch has largely floated off in the lake that appeared last week. I see this morning lots of green shoots of weeds starting to appear. I think we're going to have to find something heavier to put down by way of mulch if we're ever to keep on top of the weeds.
It's good to be home. Last week lasted at least two weeks in our consciousness. Two funerals in one week is too much, especially when one isn't local. It's been emotionally as well as physically sapping, but it's over. Now we have chance to recover ourselves a bit, then it's Italy here we come.
So having cleared my mind of these preparations, & after a couple of essentially dry, if very windy days, I thought I might venture into the garden for a little this morning. Now it's raining & I'm stuck inside once again. Our new plants look happily settled in. The globeflowers have had all their petals blown off, but at least there are some new buds which hopefully will provide a patch of gold soon. The hydrangea is still getting bluer & yet more buds are appearing. The bark mulch has largely floated off in the lake that appeared last week. I see this morning lots of green shoots of weeds starting to appear. I think we're going to have to find something heavier to put down by way of mulch if we're ever to keep on top of the weeds.
It's good to be home. Last week lasted at least two weeks in our consciousness. Two funerals in one week is too much, especially when one isn't local. It's been emotionally as well as physically sapping, but it's over. Now we have chance to recover ourselves a bit, then it's Italy here we come.
Saturday 15 August 2009
The family meet-up
We're back from our trip down to Stoke & my aunt's funeral.
We stayed at a Toby Inn. It turned out quite successful. The bedroom was basic but clean, & remarkably spacious, allowing plenty of turning area for the wheelchair. A proper wet room with seat in the bathroom & grab rails everywhere. Breakfast was continental rather than cooked, but there was plenty of it. At £49.95 who can't complain. Next door was the bar & carvery area, where we had a good but inexpensive meal, & drinks cheaper than at our local pubs. There was even a bottle of wine for just £6.99!
We realised how well we had done when we went to the reception after the services. It was at a fairly posh hotel with all manner of leisure facilities - swimming pool, gym, beauty therapies etc. Yet when I asked for the disabled loo, I had to use the one in the disabled bedroom in the hotel part. There was very little space there. I couldn't turn the wheelchair around in the bathroom without removing the footplates! And the shower was over the bath. Presumably if we'd stayed there, any disabled person using the bar etc would have had to traipse through my bedroom to use that toilet! From the standard of hotel generally, I suspect we would have had to pay nearer £100 for that privilege.
The actual funeral services were much more satisfactory. There was a religious service at the local Methodist church Ivy had attended regularly for years, followed by a brief committal service at the crematorium. The priest who took the services knew Ivy & that fact was reflected in all he said about her. Indeed he'd visited her in hospital a day or two before she died. It was difficult to imagine my very gentle fun-loving caring aunt as the munitions maker making guns during the Second World War, much easier to imagine her dancing away with my Uncle Chris. Above all, it was a joyous service in which we were all encouraged to remember & appreciate the good times spent in Ivy's company, her love of life, of family & friends, & of God.
From our point of view it was nice to meet up with family. It was the first time I'd met my Aunt Flo & her son, John. Or, at least, it was the first time I'd seen Les' part of the family since my Cousin Pat's wedding in 1965. I remember my Uncle Les on that occasion but that's it. But then I was only 11. I remember on that occasion, & at the memorial for my paternal grandmother the previous year, meeting lots of previously unknown faces, either being introduced to them as Aunt this, Uncle that, or total strangers commenting "Oh, so you're Arthur's little girl." I was just overwhelmed by the sheer number of people & took very few of them in. It's the problem with very large families & my father's was certainly large. Still it's nice to meet them now, in smaller doses, & to get to know & love them. I just wish it could be on more cheery occasions than funerals. I even suggested that my Cousin Pat should persuade her daughter, Donna, to invite the whole family for the christening party for the twins she's expecting in October! But she suspects Donna would prefer the smaller party she had when her other child, Sylvia, was born.
We returned home last night, exhausted. The release of tension now both funerals are over is great. I suspect too it is partially we'd let go of some of our everyday worries while we were away. I almost feel as though we'd been away for a week or so, not just the one night.
Now is the time to pick up life again & get on with living it.
And let's hope there will be no more funerals for a while.
We stayed at a Toby Inn. It turned out quite successful. The bedroom was basic but clean, & remarkably spacious, allowing plenty of turning area for the wheelchair. A proper wet room with seat in the bathroom & grab rails everywhere. Breakfast was continental rather than cooked, but there was plenty of it. At £49.95 who can't complain. Next door was the bar & carvery area, where we had a good but inexpensive meal, & drinks cheaper than at our local pubs. There was even a bottle of wine for just £6.99!
We realised how well we had done when we went to the reception after the services. It was at a fairly posh hotel with all manner of leisure facilities - swimming pool, gym, beauty therapies etc. Yet when I asked for the disabled loo, I had to use the one in the disabled bedroom in the hotel part. There was very little space there. I couldn't turn the wheelchair around in the bathroom without removing the footplates! And the shower was over the bath. Presumably if we'd stayed there, any disabled person using the bar etc would have had to traipse through my bedroom to use that toilet! From the standard of hotel generally, I suspect we would have had to pay nearer £100 for that privilege.
The actual funeral services were much more satisfactory. There was a religious service at the local Methodist church Ivy had attended regularly for years, followed by a brief committal service at the crematorium. The priest who took the services knew Ivy & that fact was reflected in all he said about her. Indeed he'd visited her in hospital a day or two before she died. It was difficult to imagine my very gentle fun-loving caring aunt as the munitions maker making guns during the Second World War, much easier to imagine her dancing away with my Uncle Chris. Above all, it was a joyous service in which we were all encouraged to remember & appreciate the good times spent in Ivy's company, her love of life, of family & friends, & of God.
From our point of view it was nice to meet up with family. It was the first time I'd met my Aunt Flo & her son, John. Or, at least, it was the first time I'd seen Les' part of the family since my Cousin Pat's wedding in 1965. I remember my Uncle Les on that occasion but that's it. But then I was only 11. I remember on that occasion, & at the memorial for my paternal grandmother the previous year, meeting lots of previously unknown faces, either being introduced to them as Aunt this, Uncle that, or total strangers commenting "Oh, so you're Arthur's little girl." I was just overwhelmed by the sheer number of people & took very few of them in. It's the problem with very large families & my father's was certainly large. Still it's nice to meet them now, in smaller doses, & to get to know & love them. I just wish it could be on more cheery occasions than funerals. I even suggested that my Cousin Pat should persuade her daughter, Donna, to invite the whole family for the christening party for the twins she's expecting in October! But she suspects Donna would prefer the smaller party she had when her other child, Sylvia, was born.
We returned home last night, exhausted. The release of tension now both funerals are over is great. I suspect too it is partially we'd let go of some of our everyday worries while we were away. I almost feel as though we'd been away for a week or so, not just the one night.
Now is the time to pick up life again & get on with living it.
And let's hope there will be no more funerals for a while.
Thursday 13 August 2009
Economy Gastronomy
Last night we watched "Economy Gastronomy" BBC2 at 8pm. We watched it last week as well. At last a food programme on food which anybody can tackle, everyday food with a bit of pzzazz.
The basic premise of the programme is that inexpensive food doesn't have to be bad, bland, uninteresting food. I wholeheartedly agree. Most of my adult life we've not had much money but, on the whole, we've eaten well, better than many richer folk. We ate at home because we couldn't afford to eat out. Convenience foods were just too expensive to have on a daily basis. Maybe that's why we never went down that road as so many people seem to have done these days.
What I find remarkable about this programme is not the financial benefits that result but the benefit to family life. Under the regime proposed by the two chefs, the whole family get involved in cooking & shopping, eating together & sharing conversation around the table. Food has become a central part of their life together & a source of pleasure, an expression of love, rather than the inevitable chore demanded by the basic necessity for food.
I confess I boggle at the amount some people spend on food. I feel so extravagant these days & yet I've never had a shopping bill of over £100 in a week, even over Christmas & stocking up on alcohol, or having guests visiting & eating with us.
The secret, Paul Merritt, one of the chefs, reckons, is planning & lists, & then sticking to the list. I entirely agree. I've always made a list & stuck to it. I used to allow myself one indulgence, a store cupboard ingredient, usually something on special offer, so when money was really tight, I could use the stored up food to feed us for a week without buying more than some milk & maybe a loaf of bread. I devised this idea after the Fox's mother, one year, gave us a box of food for Christmas, her own collected food hamper. Each week she had bought just one item & put it in a large carton box. She didn't particularly notice the amount extra on her own shopping but she had, for us, an invaluable present, that augmented our diet for ages.
The other thing I concluded is that if you've been out working all day you need something quick to cook - an hour maximum, preferably half that. But that still leaves a vast range of foods. Eggs, bacon, chops, steaks, fish, all are fast to cook. On non-work days it's worth cooking something slower, maybe even cooking a larger casserole so some can be reheated later in the week. A roast gives lots of leftovers for quick mid-week meals & sandwiches for lunch.
The other thing that comes with lists & sticking to them is that there is so much less waste. You only buy what you are going to use. I find the amount of what was good food thrown out almost criminal. I can't understand why people keep buying so much more than they can possibly use.
The basic premise of the programme is that inexpensive food doesn't have to be bad, bland, uninteresting food. I wholeheartedly agree. Most of my adult life we've not had much money but, on the whole, we've eaten well, better than many richer folk. We ate at home because we couldn't afford to eat out. Convenience foods were just too expensive to have on a daily basis. Maybe that's why we never went down that road as so many people seem to have done these days.
What I find remarkable about this programme is not the financial benefits that result but the benefit to family life. Under the regime proposed by the two chefs, the whole family get involved in cooking & shopping, eating together & sharing conversation around the table. Food has become a central part of their life together & a source of pleasure, an expression of love, rather than the inevitable chore demanded by the basic necessity for food.
I confess I boggle at the amount some people spend on food. I feel so extravagant these days & yet I've never had a shopping bill of over £100 in a week, even over Christmas & stocking up on alcohol, or having guests visiting & eating with us.
The secret, Paul Merritt, one of the chefs, reckons, is planning & lists, & then sticking to the list. I entirely agree. I've always made a list & stuck to it. I used to allow myself one indulgence, a store cupboard ingredient, usually something on special offer, so when money was really tight, I could use the stored up food to feed us for a week without buying more than some milk & maybe a loaf of bread. I devised this idea after the Fox's mother, one year, gave us a box of food for Christmas, her own collected food hamper. Each week she had bought just one item & put it in a large carton box. She didn't particularly notice the amount extra on her own shopping but she had, for us, an invaluable present, that augmented our diet for ages.
The other thing I concluded is that if you've been out working all day you need something quick to cook - an hour maximum, preferably half that. But that still leaves a vast range of foods. Eggs, bacon, chops, steaks, fish, all are fast to cook. On non-work days it's worth cooking something slower, maybe even cooking a larger casserole so some can be reheated later in the week. A roast gives lots of leftovers for quick mid-week meals & sandwiches for lunch.
The other thing that comes with lists & sticking to them is that there is so much less waste. You only buy what you are going to use. I find the amount of what was good food thrown out almost criminal. I can't understand why people keep buying so much more than they can possibly use.
Wednesday 12 August 2009
Garden update
It looks as though the new plants are settling in well. The globe flowers have two new buds that are definitely fattening up ready to open. The hydrangea is getting bluer by the moment. All the others are standing reasonably erect.
Lin did recommend us getting some mushroom compost as mulch. Certainly the two huge bags of bark have been barely adequate to discourage inevitable weeds, especially as much has floated off in the subsequent flooding. I wonder if mushroom compost would be a bit heavier. Maybe we'll go along to a garden centre to see if we can find something more to act as a mulch. Meanwhile the bark will just have to do.
In the front, the dusky pink echinacea seems to have inspired the garlic chives to come into flower. They didn't flower last year at all. The small white flowers stand out against the pink petals & the browny yellow cones of the echinacea behind. The bright orange of the marigolds add a bit of cheer to the herb garden. Though it has to be admitted it is the bright yellow spreading hands of the fennel that dominate the front. I think it has something to do with the sheer height to the plant.
I'm beginning to feel confident the plants will survive our absence as we set off to Stoke for Ivy's funeral. I like to water newcomers daily for the first week or so to make sure they settle in well. The heavens seem to have been doing the watering this week. Hopefully they will continue to do so.
Lin did recommend us getting some mushroom compost as mulch. Certainly the two huge bags of bark have been barely adequate to discourage inevitable weeds, especially as much has floated off in the subsequent flooding. I wonder if mushroom compost would be a bit heavier. Maybe we'll go along to a garden centre to see if we can find something more to act as a mulch. Meanwhile the bark will just have to do.
In the front, the dusky pink echinacea seems to have inspired the garlic chives to come into flower. They didn't flower last year at all. The small white flowers stand out against the pink petals & the browny yellow cones of the echinacea behind. The bright orange of the marigolds add a bit of cheer to the herb garden. Though it has to be admitted it is the bright yellow spreading hands of the fennel that dominate the front. I think it has something to do with the sheer height to the plant.
I'm beginning to feel confident the plants will survive our absence as we set off to Stoke for Ivy's funeral. I like to water newcomers daily for the first week or so to make sure they settle in well. The heavens seem to have been doing the watering this week. Hopefully they will continue to do so.
Tuesday 11 August 2009
Funerals
There are times I seriously wonder what funerals are about. Services are so variable.
My mother's I remember even now, some 30+ years later, with anger. It was a load of Christian claptrap, by someone who had never met my mother, never wanted to know her. It was a job to be done, part of a conveyor belt of services to be performed that day. I kept my mouth shut at the time as I hoped it gave some comfort for my father.
Over the years since, we seem to be going to ever increasing numbers of funerals - a sign of our own increasing old age & mortality? The best, to my mind, capture something of the deceased, celebrate their lives. I know it's difficult to decide how best to arrange a service when you yourself are in shock & despair having lost someone much loved. It's difficult to think about funerals when all you want is for the ordeal to be over. Many funeral directors & priests are not good at making suggestions.
Yesterday's service started off not too badly. The first hymn was "All things bright & beautiful", not one I think of for such an occasion, & yet I did find it curiously appropriate. MK loved the world around him, loved nature, & to his dying days, one of his great pleasures was to look out of his lounge windows, across the paddock with all the bird feeders, frequented by small birds, down to the canal with its swan family & the fells beyond. He was a countryman at heart &, at one time, had his own smallholding.
Then we had a couple of poems read by a couple of his grandchildren, expressing the thought that MK did not want us all to be miserable but rather to be glad he had ever lived.
Then the service went terribly wrong. We had half a dozen sentences of MK's career, in which the priest even got the names of the family wrong, followed by an advertising blurb for the wonders of the services he himself could provide. Considering that MK was not a churchgoer, this galled us. (For a more detailed account of this horror read the Fox's blog.)
At the Pub afterwards, we were both subdued, partially because of the upset the priest had caused us. We can but hope Helen & her family found it a more satisfying service. I have to admit part of my quietness was that I'd had to take a sleeping pill the night before - my knees are still badly inflamed from my gardening efforts on Saturday. I often seem semi-doped the next day, as I was yesterday.
Also I felt no sense of relief. I always find the time between death & funeral a strain, a curious dislocated sense of waiting, unable to get on with life. I'm still feeling that. I'm telling myself that it is because I'm still very aware that we have another funeral to go to later this week. Maybe it will only be after that one that I will be able to feel that sense of release & be able to get back to life again.
Meanwhile I keep thinking of Linda, Dave C's widow. She came to the funeral & the do after. It was an awful ordeal for her, as she was only too aware of thinking of & missing Dave,who died only last April. She commented she has the image of Dave & MK sitting in heaven, over a pint of beer, putting the world to rights. I hope that's just what is happening.
As for myself, I hope, when the time comes, people will go away, feeling glad that they had known me & feel free to do that with humour & joy. Goodbyes are inevitable, but surely the focus should be on the privilege it has been for those still living to have known the deceased, on all the things that made that person unique, someone you wanted to know & enjoy being with.
So all I can say is "Goodbye Michael. You will always be loved, never forgotten." I just hope the next funeral is going to be more satisfactory.
My mother's I remember even now, some 30+ years later, with anger. It was a load of Christian claptrap, by someone who had never met my mother, never wanted to know her. It was a job to be done, part of a conveyor belt of services to be performed that day. I kept my mouth shut at the time as I hoped it gave some comfort for my father.
Over the years since, we seem to be going to ever increasing numbers of funerals - a sign of our own increasing old age & mortality? The best, to my mind, capture something of the deceased, celebrate their lives. I know it's difficult to decide how best to arrange a service when you yourself are in shock & despair having lost someone much loved. It's difficult to think about funerals when all you want is for the ordeal to be over. Many funeral directors & priests are not good at making suggestions.
Yesterday's service started off not too badly. The first hymn was "All things bright & beautiful", not one I think of for such an occasion, & yet I did find it curiously appropriate. MK loved the world around him, loved nature, & to his dying days, one of his great pleasures was to look out of his lounge windows, across the paddock with all the bird feeders, frequented by small birds, down to the canal with its swan family & the fells beyond. He was a countryman at heart &, at one time, had his own smallholding.
Then we had a couple of poems read by a couple of his grandchildren, expressing the thought that MK did not want us all to be miserable but rather to be glad he had ever lived.
Then the service went terribly wrong. We had half a dozen sentences of MK's career, in which the priest even got the names of the family wrong, followed by an advertising blurb for the wonders of the services he himself could provide. Considering that MK was not a churchgoer, this galled us. (For a more detailed account of this horror read the Fox's blog.)
At the Pub afterwards, we were both subdued, partially because of the upset the priest had caused us. We can but hope Helen & her family found it a more satisfying service. I have to admit part of my quietness was that I'd had to take a sleeping pill the night before - my knees are still badly inflamed from my gardening efforts on Saturday. I often seem semi-doped the next day, as I was yesterday.
Also I felt no sense of relief. I always find the time between death & funeral a strain, a curious dislocated sense of waiting, unable to get on with life. I'm still feeling that. I'm telling myself that it is because I'm still very aware that we have another funeral to go to later this week. Maybe it will only be after that one that I will be able to feel that sense of release & be able to get back to life again.
Meanwhile I keep thinking of Linda, Dave C's widow. She came to the funeral & the do after. It was an awful ordeal for her, as she was only too aware of thinking of & missing Dave,who died only last April. She commented she has the image of Dave & MK sitting in heaven, over a pint of beer, putting the world to rights. I hope that's just what is happening.
As for myself, I hope, when the time comes, people will go away, feeling glad that they had known me & feel free to do that with humour & joy. Goodbyes are inevitable, but surely the focus should be on the privilege it has been for those still living to have known the deceased, on all the things that made that person unique, someone you wanted to know & enjoy being with.
So all I can say is "Goodbye Michael. You will always be loved, never forgotten." I just hope the next funeral is going to be more satisfactory.
Monday 10 August 2009
Rain again
We won't be watering the new kiddies today. It's been non-stop rain all morning. Lakes are once more appearing around the garden. Last night the Fox got around to putting some bark down as a mulch to discourage the weeds. Everything is looking a sodden mess. Now we'll discover whether these plants are really bog plants or not. Last time we planted some "bog" plants here, they drowned. We'll see if we've done better this time. Certainly the garden centre won't be able to say they didn't have enough water!
The heavenly tears seem appropriate as we prepare to go to the first of our funerals today. This is for MK. This time I've decided to get a meal prepared. At Dave C's I didn't bother, thinking there would be plenty of food so the most we'd want would be a snack or a pizza. So many people turned up, we were lucky to get even a sandwich. We came home ravenous, having watched so many others gorging themselves.
I know Helen has ordered food for 40, but she reckons there will be 17 family &, even I can name 20 plus who are thinking of coming. So this time I'm playing safe. I've made a simple prawn curry. That will keep until tomorrow if necessary, but will be quick & easy enough to warm up even if we don't feel like eating until late.
The heavenly tears seem appropriate as we prepare to go to the first of our funerals today. This is for MK. This time I've decided to get a meal prepared. At Dave C's I didn't bother, thinking there would be plenty of food so the most we'd want would be a snack or a pizza. So many people turned up, we were lucky to get even a sandwich. We came home ravenous, having watched so many others gorging themselves.
I know Helen has ordered food for 40, but she reckons there will be 17 family &, even I can name 20 plus who are thinking of coming. So this time I'm playing safe. I've made a simple prawn curry. That will keep until tomorrow if necessary, but will be quick & easy enough to warm up even if we don't feel like eating until late.
Sunday 9 August 2009
A strenuous afternoon
We started by lifting the old dilapidated fence panels from the bed. I'd hoped by laying the panels down on the soil, they would suppress any weeds that might emerge between my weeding effort & our planting. It worked.
We were startled as we lifted the first panel to see a large frog jump out. By the time we'd got them all three panels up, we'd found a couple of baby frogs, only a couple of inches in size. We apologised for disturbing them all.
Then came the back-breaking work as we dug holes - no joke when you're digging around minuscule leaping frogs - & put in the plants. It took two hours to do it all, but finally they were all in. We have yet to put some mulch down to keep the weeds under control, but at least the plants are in the bed, with plenty of water.
As it was a sunny evening we ate out. By then the plants were having a sulk, looking distinctly crestfallen but we told ourselves they would pick up once they had got over the shock of moving home. Sure enough they are looking a lot perkier this morning.
As we settled down to our meal, we watched the frogs hop along back to the bed, no doubt to find some shelter under the leaves.
It's nice to see this bed looking better. It is a conspicuous part of the garden, just by the side of the patio. It's unpleasant weeding this bit with it being so constantly wet. Half the time it is just at the bottom of a pool of water! As a result it's tended to be neglected. I think we've finally got around to making it into a colourful corner rather then an ugly eyesore.
We're both now suffering from our exertions, the Fox with his back & me with my knees, but if everything flourishes, as it should do, it will have been worth it.
We were startled as we lifted the first panel to see a large frog jump out. By the time we'd got them all three panels up, we'd found a couple of baby frogs, only a couple of inches in size. We apologised for disturbing them all.
Then came the back-breaking work as we dug holes - no joke when you're digging around minuscule leaping frogs - & put in the plants. It took two hours to do it all, but finally they were all in. We have yet to put some mulch down to keep the weeds under control, but at least the plants are in the bed, with plenty of water.
As it was a sunny evening we ate out. By then the plants were having a sulk, looking distinctly crestfallen but we told ourselves they would pick up once they had got over the shock of moving home. Sure enough they are looking a lot perkier this morning.
As we settled down to our meal, we watched the frogs hop along back to the bed, no doubt to find some shelter under the leaves.
It's nice to see this bed looking better. It is a conspicuous part of the garden, just by the side of the patio. It's unpleasant weeding this bit with it being so constantly wet. Half the time it is just at the bottom of a pool of water! As a result it's tended to be neglected. I think we've finally got around to making it into a colourful corner rather then an ugly eyesore.
We're both now suffering from our exertions, the Fox with his back & me with my knees, but if everything flourishes, as it should do, it will have been worth it.
Saturday 8 August 2009
Christmas has come early
Christmas has come early this year. Yesterday in fact. The first to arrive were three boxes of plants. Most of them are for the bog garden. The echinacea was for the herb garden, or maybe I ought to call it medicinal garden, in the front. I hastily planted that yesterday. The pink flowers brighten up a bare patch & add a bit of colour to a predominantly green garden - various shades of green admittedly.
While I was doing that, another delivery van arrived. Another parcel. This time it's a new lamp. The Fox's eyes are not what they were & he felt the need of a reading lamp in an evening.
I was happily talking to neighbours, all sat on the low wall, when this arrived. Then I heard the phone ringing. I hastily got inside, expecting yet another call about one funeral or the other. But no, it's the computer repair company. We had to take the laptop in for a repair on Wednesday. They said it would take a fortnight & would cost £75-100 to repair. Instead it was already done & would only cost £29. So we went to collect it in the afternoon. It's amazing how bereft you feel when you've got used to having a laptop easily available, & then to be without it.
A busy day indeed. Today we're hoping to be out in the garden, planting the bog plants. We hastily watered them yesterday. In fact they've had three dowsings so far. It will be a relief once they're safely planted with their feet in water.
I'm not entirely looking forward to the digging of the holes - not in such wet ground. The other day I was talking to a neighbour. She was saying they'd had to dig a deep hole in their garden recently. Once they'd dug the hole, they decided to go in for a rest & a well earned cup of tea before doing anything else. When they came out again, the hole was full to the brim with water. And we're lower down the hill, with even more water!
I'm telling myself it should all be looking much better once everything is planted. It will be wonderful to see some colour, rather than just a patch of weeds, from the kitchen window & the patio area. Some of the plants ought to grow to the 6ft mark so, in time, they ought to hide the nondescript fence behind & some of that neighbour's ugly outbuildings.
While I was doing that, another delivery van arrived. Another parcel. This time it's a new lamp. The Fox's eyes are not what they were & he felt the need of a reading lamp in an evening.
I was happily talking to neighbours, all sat on the low wall, when this arrived. Then I heard the phone ringing. I hastily got inside, expecting yet another call about one funeral or the other. But no, it's the computer repair company. We had to take the laptop in for a repair on Wednesday. They said it would take a fortnight & would cost £75-100 to repair. Instead it was already done & would only cost £29. So we went to collect it in the afternoon. It's amazing how bereft you feel when you've got used to having a laptop easily available, & then to be without it.
A busy day indeed. Today we're hoping to be out in the garden, planting the bog plants. We hastily watered them yesterday. In fact they've had three dowsings so far. It will be a relief once they're safely planted with their feet in water.
I'm not entirely looking forward to the digging of the holes - not in such wet ground. The other day I was talking to a neighbour. She was saying they'd had to dig a deep hole in their garden recently. Once they'd dug the hole, they decided to go in for a rest & a well earned cup of tea before doing anything else. When they came out again, the hole was full to the brim with water. And we're lower down the hill, with even more water!
I'm telling myself it should all be looking much better once everything is planted. It will be wonderful to see some colour, rather than just a patch of weeds, from the kitchen window & the patio area. Some of the plants ought to grow to the 6ft mark so, in time, they ought to hide the nondescript fence behind & some of that neighbour's ugly outbuildings.
Friday 7 August 2009
Coming together
The curry sauce is plopping away. We're having an old favourite today - chicken curry pancakes. We're off to do the big shop this afternoon so it will be nice to have something that just needs a quick warm-up later.
At last we've found out when our second funeral is. So we now have one at the beginning of next week & one at the end with a few days in between to recover a bit. Now all I need to do is try to find some accommodation down in Stoke. Aunt Ivy's funeral is in the morning which means we would have to leave here before 8am to get there in time. We're hoping instead to go down the day before & stay somewhere. It would be less tiring & stressful for me if we can.
The phone calls are continuing. Some about one funeral, some about the other. It's hard to get away from death at the moment. Inevitably our thoughts are with those who've recently died & their families. Inevitably memories of good times come pouring in. When we go to the Pub, conversation always seems to come back to MK & do you remember this. Equally as cousins ring memories are brought up, not just of Aunt Ivy, but of other family members who have died & experiences shared with them. I can see Ivy's funeral is going to be a big family get-together. We only seem to do this at funerals. It seems a pity we can't do it for some cheerier reason.
At last we've found out when our second funeral is. So we now have one at the beginning of next week & one at the end with a few days in between to recover a bit. Now all I need to do is try to find some accommodation down in Stoke. Aunt Ivy's funeral is in the morning which means we would have to leave here before 8am to get there in time. We're hoping instead to go down the day before & stay somewhere. It would be less tiring & stressful for me if we can.
The phone calls are continuing. Some about one funeral, some about the other. It's hard to get away from death at the moment. Inevitably our thoughts are with those who've recently died & their families. Inevitably memories of good times come pouring in. When we go to the Pub, conversation always seems to come back to MK & do you remember this. Equally as cousins ring memories are brought up, not just of Aunt Ivy, but of other family members who have died & experiences shared with them. I can see Ivy's funeral is going to be a big family get-together. We only seem to do this at funerals. It seems a pity we can't do it for some cheerier reason.
Thursday 6 August 2009
Affirming life
We're slowly getting ourselves together. These few days have been a blur of loss & grief. And yet, in the midst of this, there is an urge to get together with fellow mourners, to share stories & memories. People rarely spoken to before, suddenly start to open up. It's really quite life-affirming.
Today, the sun is shining. The Fox is doing the cooking so I'm having an easy morning, escaping to Italy via our new guidebook. I'm really looking forward to exploring the ancient antiquities of both Roman & Greek worlds. (At school I studied both Latin & Ancient Greek so the classical world I've read & studied much.) The scenery in the area we're going to sounds fabulous. So far I've only read about Naples & its immediate surroundings. The next chapter takes me south a bit, to Pompei & Herculaneum.
Then this afternoon, if the sun keeps shining, we're hoping for a stroll along the prom to our village pub, before strolling back for dinner. It's looking hopeful at the moment that we'll mnage to do that. But meanwhile I may try a bit of Italian language, explore more Italy, maybe even escape into the garden for a while.
Today, the sun is shining. The Fox is doing the cooking so I'm having an easy morning, escaping to Italy via our new guidebook. I'm really looking forward to exploring the ancient antiquities of both Roman & Greek worlds. (At school I studied both Latin & Ancient Greek so the classical world I've read & studied much.) The scenery in the area we're going to sounds fabulous. So far I've only read about Naples & its immediate surroundings. The next chapter takes me south a bit, to Pompei & Herculaneum.
Then this afternoon, if the sun keeps shining, we're hoping for a stroll along the prom to our village pub, before strolling back for dinner. It's looking hopeful at the moment that we'll mnage to do that. But meanwhile I may try a bit of Italian language, explore more Italy, maybe even escape into the garden for a while.
Wednesday 5 August 2009
Spreading news
The phone lines are buzzing. The news of the two deaths & funerals spreads. I'm not sure which one it will be about as I pick up the phone. A cousin here, friends there. I've contacted or heard from cousins I've not spoken to for years, all eager to know about Aunt Ivy & the arrangements, & to confirm the continuance of life elsewhere in the family. I hear of babies to be born, houses to be moved into, other people's health as we all grow older.
At least the time & other arrangements for MK's funeral have been organised. We still wait to know about Aunt Ivy's. I suspect there has to be an autopsy for her as she died unexpectedly in hospital, when she was even due to be released. If nothing else it looks as though it will be on a different day from MK's. I certainly hope so. Meanwhile we go around in a daze, not sure who to mourn for most.
At least the time & other arrangements for MK's funeral have been organised. We still wait to know about Aunt Ivy's. I suspect there has to be an autopsy for her as she died unexpectedly in hospital, when she was even due to be released. If nothing else it looks as though it will be on a different day from MK's. I certainly hope so. Meanwhile we go around in a daze, not sure who to mourn for most.
Tuesday 4 August 2009
Family
You may have realised I got disrupted writing my blog yesterday & ended up hastily, & rather cursorily, completing it. The news of my aunt's death came as quite a shock. We had been expecting her home yesterday, not news that she had collapsed & died. I spent most of yesterday in sombre mood, not able to raise much cheer.
And there was something to cheer about. When we escaped to the Pub for a bit of distraction & a meal - I didn't feel I had much concentration to cook & the Fox wasn't doing much better - we discovered Gaz, the owner/manager, had come back from his holidays an engaged man! We were all delighted.
I'm glad to say by the evening my mood was lifting a bit. I'm just hoping the two funerals are on different days. I'd hate to choose between them, but it will be impossible to be in Stoke for my aunt's funeral & here for MK's on the same day. Both have played important roles in my life of late. Both I feel the need to say my farewells to. Both I want to support those left behind, be it Helen, MK's widow, or my cousin Anne.
I remember well how bereft I felt when my father died. By then my mother was long dead. My brother had died a year or two before. I had long left home & married. It surprised me just how much losing my father meant. It wasn't just losing the man that was so upsetting. It was losing the last member of my immediate family, the last person to remember those intimate childhood experiences that are only known & shared with parents & siblings.
Oh, I still have some friends from my childhood days but it is not the same, can never be. They remain on the outside looking in on the family from a different perspective. They were never sharers of the frequent after dinner card games, the Christmas celebrations, the holidays, the family rows etc.
Anne will be in that position now. Her father died about 10 years ago. Now her mother has died. She was an only child so there are no brothers & sisters to share her grief with. I'm sure her husband will do his best to help but this is partially a grief for a loss of childhood & family that pre-dates any marriage. I felt so alone, even with the Fox's love surrounding me, his arms always ready to gather me up & comfort me. I was very grateful for my extended family rallying around. People who knew my parents & brother, or stories of them, long before I met the Fox, people I know who will be there to rally around support me if ever anything happened to the Fox. For all you sometimes get irritated about family, even extended family, there is something very special about family.
And there was something to cheer about. When we escaped to the Pub for a bit of distraction & a meal - I didn't feel I had much concentration to cook & the Fox wasn't doing much better - we discovered Gaz, the owner/manager, had come back from his holidays an engaged man! We were all delighted.
I'm glad to say by the evening my mood was lifting a bit. I'm just hoping the two funerals are on different days. I'd hate to choose between them, but it will be impossible to be in Stoke for my aunt's funeral & here for MK's on the same day. Both have played important roles in my life of late. Both I feel the need to say my farewells to. Both I want to support those left behind, be it Helen, MK's widow, or my cousin Anne.
I remember well how bereft I felt when my father died. By then my mother was long dead. My brother had died a year or two before. I had long left home & married. It surprised me just how much losing my father meant. It wasn't just losing the man that was so upsetting. It was losing the last member of my immediate family, the last person to remember those intimate childhood experiences that are only known & shared with parents & siblings.
Oh, I still have some friends from my childhood days but it is not the same, can never be. They remain on the outside looking in on the family from a different perspective. They were never sharers of the frequent after dinner card games, the Christmas celebrations, the holidays, the family rows etc.
Anne will be in that position now. Her father died about 10 years ago. Now her mother has died. She was an only child so there are no brothers & sisters to share her grief with. I'm sure her husband will do his best to help but this is partially a grief for a loss of childhood & family that pre-dates any marriage. I felt so alone, even with the Fox's love surrounding me, his arms always ready to gather me up & comfort me. I was very grateful for my extended family rallying around. People who knew my parents & brother, or stories of them, long before I met the Fox, people I know who will be there to rally around support me if ever anything happened to the Fox. For all you sometimes get irritated about family, even extended family, there is something very special about family.
Monday 3 August 2009
Anger & loss
I am getting very angry. As I mentioned , our packet was not redelivered on Saturday as arranged. So this morning, I ring the number on the card during the hours stipulated on the card. I get a recorded voice with various options. I choose to talk to my local office as I would assume the packet is there, if not in a local delivery van already on the road. The phone rings. No answer. Eventually a recorded voice tells me that there is nobody available to answer my call, please leave a message. Their efficiency so far does not encourage me to leave a message. I try again, this time I press to make a complaint. This results in endless recorded music. I am getting very annoyed.
Maybe I'm just feeling raw at the moment. Yesterday we had news that our friend, MK, who had Motor Neurone Disease, had finally died. And now, in the midst of writing this, I've just had a phone call from my cousin Anne, to tell me my Aunt Ivy, who was due to return home from hospital today, collapsed yesterday in hospital & died. Two much loved people dead in one day. I'm reeling & stunned.
Maybe I'm just feeling raw at the moment. Yesterday we had news that our friend, MK, who had Motor Neurone Disease, had finally died. And now, in the midst of writing this, I've just had a phone call from my cousin Anne, to tell me my Aunt Ivy, who was due to return home from hospital today, collapsed yesterday in hospital & died. Two much loved people dead in one day. I'm reeling & stunned.
Sunday 2 August 2009
Washout of a day
Yesterday was one of my non-days. You know, the sort where everything you try to do just flops. As you already know the day started with not the cheeriest of phone calls.
I decided to go on the laptop to write my blog The jack keeps falling out. Eventually the screen goes black, the battery is flat. No power has been getting through. I feared this might be the case when the usual number of lights hadn't appeared. So, come Monday, the laptop is off back to the shop. It's less than a year old!
OK then, I turned my attention to something else - my endeavours to learn Italian. I soon discovered my mind was almost a total blank. I was hard pushed to remember any vocabulary, let alone any grammar. I'm not even sure why I'm bothering. Armed with our trusty phrasebook I'm confident we'll get around. Yesterday's lesson centred on a shoe shopping trip. I'm sure I'm not going to be buying shoes on holiday. I hate shoe-buying at the best of times. I'm certainly not going to be doing it on holiday!
All this time I wait for the redelivery of the package that failed to arrive the other day. Royal Mail had confirmed it would be delivered on Saturday 1 August. By mid-afternoon, no sign of a delivery. We fancy going out for a stroll along the prom as the sun is shining for a change. No, we best stay in for the parcel. Needless to say it never did arrive. I'll have to chase that one up on Monday.
Then came dinner. The disaster of that can be read on the Fox's blog.
When dinner was done, we decide to put some champagne in the fridge to chill. It's difficult to be miserable drinking champagne. It was a perfectly good champagne, but even so our spirits didn't rise very much or for long.
All in all, a day to be over & forgotten as soon as possible.
I decided to go on the laptop to write my blog The jack keeps falling out. Eventually the screen goes black, the battery is flat. No power has been getting through. I feared this might be the case when the usual number of lights hadn't appeared. So, come Monday, the laptop is off back to the shop. It's less than a year old!
OK then, I turned my attention to something else - my endeavours to learn Italian. I soon discovered my mind was almost a total blank. I was hard pushed to remember any vocabulary, let alone any grammar. I'm not even sure why I'm bothering. Armed with our trusty phrasebook I'm confident we'll get around. Yesterday's lesson centred on a shoe shopping trip. I'm sure I'm not going to be buying shoes on holiday. I hate shoe-buying at the best of times. I'm certainly not going to be doing it on holiday!
All this time I wait for the redelivery of the package that failed to arrive the other day. Royal Mail had confirmed it would be delivered on Saturday 1 August. By mid-afternoon, no sign of a delivery. We fancy going out for a stroll along the prom as the sun is shining for a change. No, we best stay in for the parcel. Needless to say it never did arrive. I'll have to chase that one up on Monday.
Then came dinner. The disaster of that can be read on the Fox's blog.
When dinner was done, we decide to put some champagne in the fridge to chill. It's difficult to be miserable drinking champagne. It was a perfectly good champagne, but even so our spirits didn't rise very much or for long.
All in all, a day to be over & forgotten as soon as possible.
Saturday 1 August 2009
Thoughts of mortality
This week's phone calls didn't bring much more cheer than last Saturday's but at least I was prepared for them. First was a call from Helen. MK is in a still worse state. She'd had to phone the doctor this morning & was awaiting his visit. MK is now in severe pain as well, so she's hoping he can have some strong painkillers to ease it. His strength is rapidly evaporating. His physical strength went long ago, but now his determination & spiritual strength is going too. It sounds as though it can't be much longer before he dies. We almost hope it won't be long, much as we will miss him. Poor Helen sounds even more shattered, though continuing to try to put a brave face on it.
Then I rang Aunt Ivy. We usually speak on a fortnightly basis, but she sounded so weak last week I thought I'd best check up on her. No answer. I tried again. Still no answer. So I rang her daughter, Anne. The urinary infection had got worse & Ivy had had to be rushed into hospital last Sunday. Anne is pleased to say Ivy is doing much better now. Hopefully she's coming home on Monday. Anne, a retired nurse, is anticipating that her mother will need some extra care at first & she is re-organising her life to give her just that.
All this, on top of recent reports that the average life span is late 70s, the last 10 years or so of which are usually not spent in the best of health, makes me only too aware that the Fox is coming up to 60 next year. I reckon that gives us only another 10 years to do all those things we always wanted to do. It's time we got on with them before it's too late. Time slips by so fast. Minutes become years in a blink of an eye.
My one ambition is to visit the land of my birth, Brunei. We had been thinking, next year, we would aim at a trip to Australia again, to visit the Great Barrier Reef to celebrate our coral wedding anniversary (35 years). I'm beginning to think it will be Brunei instead.
Apart from that I want to get the bathroom redone. Get shot of the bath & make it into a wet room - we both prefer showers & it would be so much easier for me to get into, as well as giving us a bit extra floor space in there. Sure it would be great to organise the garden a bit better, maybe add a conservatory, but ultimately if the house is fully adapted we should be able to continue to live in it together into a hopefully ripe old age. And that's what we both want to do for as long as possible, as independently as possible, together.
Then I rang Aunt Ivy. We usually speak on a fortnightly basis, but she sounded so weak last week I thought I'd best check up on her. No answer. I tried again. Still no answer. So I rang her daughter, Anne. The urinary infection had got worse & Ivy had had to be rushed into hospital last Sunday. Anne is pleased to say Ivy is doing much better now. Hopefully she's coming home on Monday. Anne, a retired nurse, is anticipating that her mother will need some extra care at first & she is re-organising her life to give her just that.
All this, on top of recent reports that the average life span is late 70s, the last 10 years or so of which are usually not spent in the best of health, makes me only too aware that the Fox is coming up to 60 next year. I reckon that gives us only another 10 years to do all those things we always wanted to do. It's time we got on with them before it's too late. Time slips by so fast. Minutes become years in a blink of an eye.
My one ambition is to visit the land of my birth, Brunei. We had been thinking, next year, we would aim at a trip to Australia again, to visit the Great Barrier Reef to celebrate our coral wedding anniversary (35 years). I'm beginning to think it will be Brunei instead.
Apart from that I want to get the bathroom redone. Get shot of the bath & make it into a wet room - we both prefer showers & it would be so much easier for me to get into, as well as giving us a bit extra floor space in there. Sure it would be great to organise the garden a bit better, maybe add a conservatory, but ultimately if the house is fully adapted we should be able to continue to live in it together into a hopefully ripe old age. And that's what we both want to do for as long as possible, as independently as possible, together.
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