tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-50369914738280878192024-03-12T22:29:35.764-07:00A Mother's Place is in the Wrong.A wife, mother, daughter, sister, divorced single parent, copywriter, lover, mature student, designer, gardener, teacher, cook, grandmother...so many labels in one short life.A Mother's Place is in the Wronghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12383766405951386903noreply@blogger.comBlogger413125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5036991473828087819.post-297454767456151212022-08-23T04:02:00.011-07:002022-08-23T04:50:25.265-07:00I'm still standing!<p> <span> It's been 18 months since I last sat here to talk to you, and I'm sure many of you have already given up on me, quite rightly. I don't really know where to start, but have to start somewhere so here goes: time has whizzed by for most of us, I suspect, without much to show for it. The dreaded Virus has kept us in check and behind closed doors for much of the time. At least that's how it has been for me and most of my friends, some of whom are still patently scared to go out and about and get back to 'normal' whatever that might be. </span></p><p><span> And still I'm procrastinating.. now it is August 2022, amazingly, and I have been putting off any communication with this Blogging world (or any other come to that). I can even begin to see how people lose touch with their previous worlds. Even running about as I was a couple of years ago is now a dim and distant memory, and I hate the fact that I can't do it any more. Anyway, let's move on. Doctors and tests have been my main concern this year so far and I can't keep on with it.</span></p><p><span> In the meantime, Daughter has actually got married: it was a really lovely day in the middle of May this year, and she looked wonderful of course. All the families and friends were ready for a celebration and it didn't disappoint. Daughter had been planning it for over a year and it had been delayed, thanks to the bloody virus, like so many other happy events. We all gathered at Brighton Registry Office, which was surprisingly lovely, with curved wooden sort-of pews for the guests, and it was a very nice atmosphere. Daughter was walked "down the Aisle" by big Grandson who is now 18 and looked so smart in his Wedding Suit. It was all very emotional. Son, his partner and little Grandson were there too of course plus so many other people, only half of whom I knew really - mostly new Hubby's family. It does seem strange that my beloved Daughter is now a wife and has a husband, but there it is - and very happy they are too. Notable absentees were her Father, not able to travel from New Zealand because he has prostate cancer and is not doing too well.. and my bad-tempered Sister who would have undoubtedly been the bad fairy and cast a black cloud over the proceedings.. ah well. In the end we all had a lovely day and evening, and I was lucky enough to take Little Grandson home with me while the others continued with the celebrations. A very good time was had by all , and now I also have a Son in Law!! Lucky me...</span></p><p><span> </span></p>A Mother's Place is in the Wronghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12383766405951386903noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5036991473828087819.post-30298058776405688602021-09-15T05:24:00.001-07:002021-09-15T05:27:53.189-07:00Adding to the List.<p><span> <span> </span><span> Well, dear Reader, it seems that I'm not the all-singing, all-dancing person I used to be! According to the (private) Doctor, I'm very lucky to have reached this age (82) without any serious ailments and without having to take serious medication. Lucky me! I've had the chest x-ray and it seems I have a slightly enlarged heart. I have been taking blood pressure pills which have worked very well to reduce my blood pressure (without side effects) and that may help the heart situation. Next is an Ultrasound scan of the heart, and then a review of my blood pressure followed by my appointment with the Neurologist who will hopefully shed some light on the shaky hands. Phew! I've postponed my eye appointment until the end of the month and hope that by then I'll know a bit more. Add to these the hearing aids which drive me mad getting caught up in mask strings, and the dodgy knees, and it makes you wonder if it's worth going on!!</span></span> What a list of ailments, I think I need to get a grip....</p><p><span> </span><span> Enough of all that, I can hardly believe that it's the end of Summer already. I was blessed though by a longed-for visit from Spain: Son and little Grandson came for a whole week which was wonderful. We had some proper family time, going on the Zip Wire and loads of those scary rides on the Pier (not me - I sat and watched). We had fish and chips too, and though I was rather slow everyone had a really good time. The next day, Sunday, they all came here for lunch and the week just rolled on from there. Poor Son had to do a couple of Covid tests, all negative, and managed to get the 'flu or at least a very bad cold, so had to be dosed up for all their activities. Grandson played football non-stop and we also watched the football on TV. They did manage a trip to London to see friends, and to go to the Spurs new Stadium, and the London Eye. I don't know how they did it all in a day, but they did. Boundless energy I guess. Anyway, we did just about everything and I dropped them off at Brighton Station on Saturday, sad to see them go, but having loved every minute of it.</span> So, dear Reader, you find me still here, hanging on by my fingertips, but wishing I was there in sunny Spain with them!! </p><p><span> </span><span> </span> </p>A Mother's Place is in the Wronghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12383766405951386903noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5036991473828087819.post-23192971044518245482021-08-07T07:54:00.008-07:002021-08-07T08:06:35.567-07:00 "And at my back I always hear Time's Winged Chariot hurrying near." <p> <span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">You could all be forgiven for thinking that I had popped my clogs, fallen off my perch or fallen victim to the dreaded Corona Virus. In fact I am still very much here, though not in the best form I have to admit. To start with, my shaky hands are so bad that I can't write any more (with pen and paper that is), and for someone who has always written stuff (diaries, stories, poems) that is very hard to acknowledge. I could not even bear to come back to this, my dear old Blog, to <span></span>record how I was feeling. I'm not sure what has changed, except that I have finally been to see a Doctor (a private one) to spell out all the things that have been piling up on my worry list. Apart from the fact that it has been impossible to see my GP during the pandemic, I really needed someone who would have the time to listen - paying for that was really worthwhile.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><span> </span><span> So my list of ailments: shaky hands (and don't even think about putting on lipstick or eye liner), knackered knees, increasing deafness, general tiredness and aching ribs (and having fallen over in the garden added to the aches and pains).And even as I type this, I can see that I'm simply listing the effects of agein</span></span><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">g! Well, the lovely lady Doctor took what Tony Hancock would have called "an armful of blood" and within 2 days sent the results. Mostly good (liver, kidneys, calcium, thyroid etc). I am just a bit deficient in Vitamin D (no surprise with our climate) and have slightly high blood pressure and cholesterol levels. Not bad and all treatable! The Doc wants me to have a chest xray to see what's causing the sore ribs, and an appointment with the Neurologist, just to see if the old brain tumour could have had anything to do with the shakiness. So, we shall see. No doubt it will end up costing an arm and a leg, and I still won't be able to run or play footie with my Grandson : ))</span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><span> </span><span> I do miss Son and family in Spain - still haven't seen them and it's nearly two years now. </span> They are fine, living in the sun and able to socialise with their friends. Grandson is on his long Summer Holiday and enjoying surfing lessons and a football camp. I so wish I was there with them. Maybe next year? That's if "Time's winged chariot" doesn't catch up with me before then....</span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span> </span><span> </span></span><br /></span></p>A Mother's Place is in the Wronghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12383766405951386903noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5036991473828087819.post-82464974470325078462021-02-17T05:05:00.002-08:002021-02-17T05:05:26.688-08:00In the Wrong... Again.<p><span> </span><span> </span><span> It doesn't take much for me to slip backwards into the wrong.. I only have to feel that old familiar apprehension, a lurching of the stomach, and I know I've done it again. I've spoken out of turn. This time I can easily blame the bloody virus, our isolation, and the feeling that we are now cut off from the rest of the world, thanks to Brexit. I want to talk to my children, but I know that they are always busy with their own lives and work. Lucky them. But they are balancing everything, keeping all the balls in the air, and it's so easy to drop one. With my beloved Daughter it's "Sorry Mum, I'm busy", and with the Spanish crew I just feel so far away in both distance and experience at the mo. I often don't phone them because I just don't know what to say: there is no real "News" only the latest statistics, numbers of infections and deaths and similar cheering facts. I can't even project to when I might be able to visit them again. And though I can visit Daughte</span>r and family (thank heavens) there is still not much to talk about. I know I'm far from alone in feeling isolated, and I'm actually more fortunate than many people. It just doesn't feel like it, and I can't really explain why. It's no wonder they feel irritated with me. I do too!</p><p><span> </span><span> </span><span> Birthdays come and go, and we feel just that little bit older with every one. Mine has just gone, and I'm still leaving my cards up to add a little cheer and colour to every day. I had lovely presents, messages from many friends and beautiful flowers delivered to my door. Lucky me! Is it churlish of me to just want to go out for dinner? </span></p><p><span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span>Big Grandson and I had a very indulgent dinner at the weekend: we went to the big MnS, which is very close, and bought their Valentine's Dinner for Two - oh the joy! We chose Prawn Cocktails, Sirloin Steaks with</span> Garlic Butter and French Fries, and a divine Chocolate Cheesecake for dessert. And we shared a bottle of pink Prosecco plus four heart-shaped chocolates. It couldn't have been nicer. Big Grandson, at sixteen, enjoyed the Prosecco, and I enjoyed sharing it. Jolly good value and dericious, as my fondly-remembered Japanese student would have said - she was the vegetarian who loved my roast chicken!! Say no more :)</p><p><span> </span><span> </span><span> Little Grandson's Birthday is coming up, in Spain, and my hoped-for trip is looking less likely with every day. Not only is foreign travel prohibited, but we can't go away in this country either. My lovely Little Grandson will be 7 at the end of March, and we have been hoping that restrictions would be relaxed a bit by then. Doesn't look very hopeful though - sadly. </span><br /></p><p><span><span> </span><span> </span><span> I'm going to stop moaning now and leave you in peace. It's brightening up here and seems to have stopped raining so I'm going for a walk and I'll try not to annoy anyone. </span><br /></span></p>A Mother's Place is in the Wronghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12383766405951386903noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5036991473828087819.post-73721055977324514082021-01-31T07:55:00.006-08:002021-01-31T08:28:21.611-08:00The three R's<p> <span> </span><span> </span><span> </span>The three R's I refer to above are three downstairs neighbors I had during my 13 years in Hove. I loved living there, and had the first and second floor maisonette with a balcony and front garden. My first R downstairs was Ruth, a very smart and accomplished young woman, who was working in London when I moved in, and was therefore not home much in the week. We got off to a very good start because the woman who had my flat before was apparently rather noisy, and I was quite the opposite. I didn't go to the pub every evening and then bring back a group of friends after closing time! Poor Ruth, who had to get up early to catch her commuter train to London, had often been woken by loud partying immediately above her head (in what was my Dining Room) and was simply exhausted. Her relief when I arrived was very clear. She welcomed me on moving day with a lovely bottle of champagne. Over the next five years we became firm friends: Ruth decided to work locally, then met someone and fell in love; I was a guest at their gorgeous wedding, and they then proceeded to have two lovely children (a boy and a girl), Ruth set up her own business which was very successful, and they eventually moved away, ending up in the Cotswolds. We are still firm friends and exchange cards and presents on Birthdays and at Christmas.</p><p><span>R number two followed Ruth into the Downstairs flat: this was Roz, who was then a single, smart businesswoman, living on her own but with a large extended family and loads of good friends. We became good friends too, and very soon considered ourselves to be family. Roz really wanted to have a child but there was no obvious choice of a father, so after much thought and questioning she opted for a donor father, and did masses of research before deciding on the father she wanted for her child. I remember we</span> had long conversations on the pros and cons, and it took her a while to decide - quite properly. Eventually though, she was pregnant and Bean was born: a delightful boy whose proper name was Gabriel, but who has always been called either Bean or Beanie by those who know him. In all we had 5 great and very eventful years when Rozzy was downstairs. Then she decided to buy an old house in the country near Lewes, and off she went with Beanie, selling her downstairs flat to my third R. And just like with Ruth, we remain great friends. </p><p>Rachel was next, married to John. They were childless when they moved in downstairs, but they were very soon pregnant and Finn was born. I did begin to wonder if I was the Fertility Fairy, waving my magic wand and helping to bring some lovely babies into the world? Whether or not, it was a rather wonderful thing that all three R's had their children downstairs while I lived upstairs. Sadly, I moved away after 3 years with Rachel, but we have kept in touch too, so I feel my life has certainly been richer for having such lovely downstairs neighbours and friends. </p><p> Thirteen years of serendipity - how lucky I was. </p>A Mother's Place is in the Wronghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12383766405951386903noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5036991473828087819.post-6352951138749965982021-01-21T07:31:00.000-08:002021-01-21T07:31:03.829-08:00In the Bleak Midwinter.<p> <span style="font-size: medium;"> I wish I could find something to be cheerful about. I don't mean to sound pathetic, but there is very little that's cheering or exciting here at the moment. At least in America they have something to celebrate - the bad-tempered departure of the orange POTUS at last. I have to admit that I watched it on TV yesterday and was cheered by the low key positivity of Joe Biden and his dignified, all-inclusive tone - such a refreshing change from his shouty, bullying predecessor. I watched as the Trump family hitched their last ride on Air Force 1 and thought that it was typical of Trump to cling on to his privilege until the very last moment. I think they must have all disembarked from the plane in Florida just as Mr Biden arrived for his inauguration in Washington! Cutting it fine at the very least, and certainly bad manners. </span><span style="font-size: large;">So what's new?</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span> </span><span> </span><span> We have passed the shortest day at last, and that should be cheering - another year is moving on. Sadly we are still in the grip of the Virus, and there seems to be no end in sight. Both Daughter and her Fiance tested positive and had to self-isolate, but are now better and back to work. They both had very mild symptoms, and none of the children were affected. I'm fine too (so far so good) and have my first vaccination booked for Saturday. In Spain, Son and family are fine too, thank heavens. Son took a test for the virus, and another to tell if he had had it earlier and they both came back negative. The pattern of infection seems to be completely random as far as I can see. Actually I think we as a family have been very lucky so far. </span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><span> </span><span> </span><span> I have been watching loads of old movies which is a good way to pass dark winter afternoons</span> and even darker evenings. I miss seeing my friends. And I'm longing for the chance to have a lovely dinner out somewhere - that's if any of my favourite restaurants will be able to survive this lockdown. Somehow I'm sure we will survive, let's hope.</span></p>A Mother's Place is in the Wronghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12383766405951386903noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5036991473828087819.post-19376403484975386682020-12-31T09:51:00.000-08:002020-12-31T09:51:13.533-08:00Another New Year<p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span> The sun is shining on my Christmas tree, making the decorations sparkle, but I must admit that that is about the only thing that's sparkling about my life at the moment. I know I'm not alone in feeling this, but isn't it hard to force yourself to be more positive and cheerful just now? On New Year's Eve we should all be looking forward to something - maybe a new job, a new baby, a new relationship? But this year all of those possibilities are overshadowed in no small measure by the continued presence of the COVID virus. It has affected all of our futures and shows no sign of disappearing. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">And as of this afternoon I'm sadly more involved than before! Big Grandson and Little Granddaughter, having spent Christmas Eve and Christmas morning with their Father and his family, are now at home with Daughter and have had the news that their Father has just tested positive for COVID. (Although he feels fine and his only symptom seems to be that he couldn't taste his Brandy:) Anyway they haven't seen him since Christmas Day, so should be OK, and they are both feeling fine. However, Daughter's Fiance woke up this morning with chest pains - not feeling at all well, and has gone for a test this afternoon. I was so looking forward to seeing them all, and to having Big Grandson here for New Year's Eve but it just wasn't to be it seems. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">I'm trying not to think too much about the other disaster, that of Brexit, which is about to hit us all. I will not be celebrating at 11pm, and have my fastest finger ready to turn off the television the minute there is any mention of it. Johnson's pathetic statements about leaving the EU behind (and Remainers) and all uniting to face a future without all the benefits and advantages that union has brought us just make me very cross. I am, and will always remain, a European. And the sooner we get our senses back and rejoin the EU, the better.</span></p>A Mother's Place is in the Wronghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12383766405951386903noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5036991473828087819.post-52123268322101410512020-12-17T12:36:00.002-08:002020-12-17T12:36:28.045-08:00Happy Christmas, with bells on!<p><span> </span><span> </span><span> Well here it is, or nearly.</span> I'm sitting beside my overloaded table with a selection of presents, wrapped or not yet wrapped, cards to write and send, bills to pay, wrapping paper, candles, colouring pens, gift tags, you name it, it has found a space on my (thankfully large), dining table. When my lovely cleaning ladies came yesterday I simply asked them to ignore the table and not to touch anything on it. It truly is the elephant in the room. And to cap it all, I have a wonky Christmas tree which I rescued from B & Q yesterday - it is almost completely flat at the back so it had been left in its cubby hole and was looking rather sad. It is very nice and bushy everywhere else, so I have put it in the bay, with its flat bit to the wall. This is all fine, but despite my best efforts I didn't manage to put it straight in the holder and so it leans rather drunkenly to one side. I've tried, but I can't straighten it without help - if I get down on the floor to fiddle with it, I might never get up again :)) I just have to wait for Big Grandson to come to the rescue.</p><p> <span> </span><span> </span><span> </span>I must say that getting out all the Christmas decorations brings back many memories, mostly good ones, though it's hard to feel the same about Christmas this year. I have had to give Spain a miss, and so will be sending love to Son and family on Christmas Day by Facetime. which is I suppose the modern way to do it. I'll be going to Daughter and family (my support bubble) for Christmas Day Lunch, which will be lovely I'm sure. At least Big Grandson and Granddaughter will be there too. so it will seem semi-normal. I'll be making Cranberry Sauce and Brandy Butter as usual, and Daughter has requested Stuffing for the Turkey-Lurkey (I'm going for a Jamie Oliver recipe) and maybe a Christmas Pudding. Normally I would make a couple of puddings and save one for next year, but I have to admit that I'm not really up for it this year. It may just have to be a Waitrose pudding.</p><p><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> My usual Christmas Eve would be spent getting last minute shopping and feverishly wrapping presents and filling stockings behind the sofa, while watching "It's a Wonderful Life" and eating sausage rolls and mince pies - and actually I can't imagine a more perfect way to spend the day before Christmas. The year Daughter was born (1981) there was thick snow for six weeks and we had a very traditional, picture postcard Christmas, though it was somewhat marred by the fact that her Father left us on New Year's Eve, when she was only two weeks old and Son was two years old! In spite of that I somehow only remember the good bits and anyway we obviously survived and went on to have many happy Christmases after that. </span></p><p><span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> After that short stroll down Memory Lane it only remains for me to wish you all as good a Christmas as you can muster. It won't be like any other I'm sure, but hopefully we can all find something to celebrate with our nearest and dearest. Goodbye and Happy Christmas - with Bells on!</span><br /></span></p><p><span><span><br /></span></span></p><p><span><span><br /></span></span></p><p><span><span><br /></span></span></p><p><span><span><br /></span></span></p><p><br /></p>A Mother's Place is in the Wronghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12383766405951386903noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5036991473828087819.post-7662557006577870782020-11-30T10:19:00.002-08:002020-11-30T10:19:43.481-08:00Time Flies...<p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span> </span><span> <span> </span><span> I can hardly believe it, but we are at the end of November already. And what a cold dreary day it is to wave goodbye to the month. I have been sitting here trawling through old photographs, more or less by accident, and I have to say that the combination of cold foggy weather outside and reflections on family past inside has not been terribly cheerful. I must get out more - but I'm not sure that's going to be allowed any time soon either. </span></span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span><span><span> </span><span> </span><span> As I am elderly (81) and have allergic asthma, I am pretty sure I'm not going to be allowed out at all. Thankfully Daughter and family are my "bubble" and so I do have one escape route available. And I have Big Grandson staying with me very occasionally - we are all in the same bubble, so I hope and pray that I'm not breaking the law. Don't mention Christmas though, I was hoping to flit off to Spain and stay a couple of months, but that is looking extremely doubtful - and even if I could muster up the courage to fly to Barcelona I could not be sure what might happen there: let's face it, being locked down in Sitges would be better than here, certainly weather-wise and of course there would be Son and family to socialize with, and as I haven't seen them since last Christmas it would be so lovely. I do miss them terribly.</span></span></span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span><span><span> Oh I just don't know what's best to do. And when I checked on the Gov. website it advised only essential travel, and you have to have a private COVID test, with paperwork, 72 hours before travelling. Oh and that costs anything from £100 - £150 (apparently the free NHS test is not acceptable - why?). The whole business makes me feel sick, even though I'm perfectly fit! I can see why a lot of people are deciding to give it all a miss this year, and don't get me wrong, I love Christmas and everything that goes with it: Christmas trees, tinsel, sparkly lights, Christmas carols, presents, stockings, beloved family all together and all the lovely food,</span></span></span></span><span style="font-size: large;"> but this year just won't be the same for so many people. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Ah well, let's all look forward to next year and hope that 2021 is better in every respect. I'm not wishing my life away, let's face it I'm too old to be tempting providence right now. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">This Nana is probably going to opt for the safest Christmas so that we can all enjoy the New Year. It doesn't have quite the same ring to it, but needs must!!</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span><span><span><br /></span></span></span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span><span><span><br /></span></span></span></span></p>A Mother's Place is in the Wronghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12383766405951386903noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5036991473828087819.post-65196846391317730562020-11-16T04:31:00.012-08:002020-11-16T04:37:12.375-08:00Single Parenting.<p> <span style="font-size: medium;"> I </span><span style="font-size: medium;">haven't really written about this for a while - mostly because when your children are grown up with children of their own, it seems</span><span style="font-size: medium;"> rather pointless. However, having had BG here for the weekend, I was reminded of some of the experiences I had as a single parent. BG reminded me, somewhat obliquely, because when I asked him what he had bought with his fiver last week he said he had actually given it to a friend at College because she didn't have the necessary money to get the bus home. Now BG doesn't have a lot of money, neither does Daughter. There are six of them, and the dog, living on a limited income which is enough for food, clothes and the rent, but not a lot more. I know that means that they are very fortunate, in these troubled times but nevertheless they are not exactly rolling in it. I was moved by BG's generous and kind gesture; when he could have easily spent his fiver on some cheesy chips, or something similar, he gave it to a friend. He has a generous heart and without being sloppy about it, I was very proud of him - He has been brought up by a Single Mother (and a single grandmother :) and is a credit to us both. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span> </span><span> </span><span> This thread led me to remember a time when we lived in Cambridge and Son, aged 8 or thereabouts, came home in tears from Primary School and asked me if we were a real family? His Teacher had said that a family consisted only of two parents with children. Son was really upset, and I was really angry. I reassured him that we three (me, Son & Daughter) were absolutely a family, and a happy one, and then I stormed off to the (Church!) School to remonstrate with the Head Teacher. He was fairly apologetic, and promised it wouldn't happen again. At that time Son was the only one in his class who was living with a Single Parent, and Daughter had only one friend in her class who was similarly afflicted. By the time they left Primary School and moved on to Secondary I think there were only a couple of children still living with two parents. But I clearly recall that I was considered an outsider: there were plenty of what Bridget Jones would call "Smug Marrieds". Looking back, it was an interesting piece of Social History, and it didn't bother me too much because I had an interesting life of my own and some very good friends. </span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span>And as a Post Script, my two turned out pretty well. </span><br /></span></p>A Mother's Place is in the Wronghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12383766405951386903noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5036991473828087819.post-71455284367405882712020-11-13T04:31:00.000-08:002020-11-13T04:31:04.142-08:00More Happy Days...<p> <span style="font-size: medium;">Even better news from Daughter at the weekend - she and her Bloke are now officially engaged. I knew it was in the offing because Paul (he now has a name!) came to see me a couple of weeks ago, in the traditional way, to ask if I had any objection to him proposing. I thought this was both touching and charming, and of course I had no objection at all. I can't imagine that it would have made any difference either way, but it was very good of him to think of it, and to make me feel very much a part of the whole thing.</span> <span style="font-size: medium;">He is a very solid and dependable chap, just what Daughter needs, and more importantly they make each other happy. It has not been easy for them over the three and a half years they have been together: they have five children between them, four of whom are living under their roof, and with such disparate ages and stages (children from three through to seventeen at the start) they have certainly had their ups and downs. I guess this sort of "blended" family is pretty typical nowadays and it certainly works well for them. Anyway, all's well at the mo. We are all delighted and Daughter has a lovely diamond engagement ring to display on her lovely hands. The manicure looks pretty good too. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span> </span><span> </span><span> The next thing will be to organise the Wedding, which they would like to have out of doors in a lovely garden with a marquee in Summer - and hopefully when all this nasty virus stuff has gone away. In any case, they have worked out that just keeping it to family and friends will mean roughly 150 people!! Goodness gracious me! Daughter is loving the whole "Planning a Wedding" thing, and I'm sure it will be perfect.</span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span><span> </span><span> </span><span> Politics rears its ugly head continually just now doesn't it? This morning I hear that Gollum is leaving Downing Street (at last) and will be leaving BoJo to his own devices - can it get any worse I wonder? And the orange POTUS is still refusing to concede in America... two-year old having a tantrum comes to mind and it's a ghastly image. We all know what to do with two-year old tantrums don't we? Just walk away....</span><br /></span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span><br /></span></span></p>A Mother's Place is in the Wronghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12383766405951386903noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5036991473828087819.post-3980589702556173142020-11-07T09:34:00.000-08:002020-11-07T09:34:19.225-08:00Ouch!<p> <span> </span><span> </span><span> I should know better by now when it comes to having my nails done. No sooner had I had a day or two to admire them, than I managed to break not one but two of those beautiful long, bright red nails! And of course it was one on each hand, both down to the quick!! Not entirely sure what 'down to the quick' means, but I think it's the point where it tears a bit of your finger along with the nail. And it blooming-well hurts. Suffice it to say that since then I have been saying Ouch! loudly when pulling up leggings and knickers and everything else one has to pull up. Only now, after a couple of weeks, can I manage it without pain. And I won't be growing those nails again either. I'm going to file them all down to a sensible length and leave it at that. Daughter has the lovely long nails (false of course) and she has them done regularly with gel polish and all the palaver, so I'll let her get on with it and I'll just retire hurt.</span></p><p><span><span> </span><span> </span><span> While we are on the subject of Daughter, I seem to be on a winning streak at the mo! It is going to be Granddaughter's Birthday next Tuesday (she will be six) and I have managed to get everything Daughter suggested for the little Princess: I tracked down the dressing gown (pink and fleecy, complete with hood and unicorn horn). a set of sparkly make-up with sparkly nail varnish (no comment) and a little 'Frozen' shoulder bag to carry all the make-up in (also sparkly). She will be with her Father on the actual day so we will be having a celebration on Wednesday: I usually make jellies and madeleines for the party, but as we are in lockdown again, there won't be a party</span></span>, just the family + me in my bubble, and the dog of course :)</p><p><span> </span><span> </span><span> My efforts to get in touch with the Hearing Aid people finally paid off, and a replacement for my lost hearing aid plopped through the letterbox yesterday. I managed to put them both in before I went out this morning, though it's no joke with shaky hands I can tell you. Anyway, when I called in to see Daughter and family after my Aldi shopping, she said it was a relief not to have to shout at me! I did notice the difference, though the right-ear one has a tendency to whistle at me if I try to touch it.</span></p><p><span><span> </span><span> </span><span> Finally, before I go, just heard the great news that Joe Biden has been confirmed as the new President of the United States.</span> Thank the Lord, a President who isn't orange!</span><br /></p>A Mother's Place is in the Wronghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12383766405951386903noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5036991473828087819.post-72859811166213381152020-10-22T05:34:00.001-07:002020-10-22T05:34:35.891-07:00Autumn Leaves...<p> <span> </span><span> </span><span> As I sit here the sun is shining and the leaves are all turning to red and gold. If only it was a normal Autumn though. It looks pretty much the same, but Oh Dear it's so far from normal. We are still stuck in the middle of this bloody Virus which apparently keeps changing so that there are so many rules and regs to conform to. Thank God I don't live up North! That would be even more confusing. And there's the debacle over children and School Meals. How those fat bastards in the so-called Government can vote against feeding hungry, deprived children through the Winter I don't know. It's disgraceful and I back young Marcus Rashford all the way in his campaign. They (the Fat Bastards) don't think twice about splashing our cash on their chums and their unchecked 'services' - most of which have been proven not to deliver anyway! And the system of "Whipping" in Parliament should be completely outlawed in my view. Let our so-called MPs or representatives, actually represent us, their constituents. I don't want my MP sucking up to Boris Johnson or any of his cronies, or reinforcing the fact that the Tories want to screw us over. He (or she) is only there to represent me and has been elected on that basis. Of course we are all entitled to our opinions and we supposedly live in a Democracy. But is it too much to expect a smidge of decency and integrity in our MPs?</span></p><p><span><span> </span><span> </span><span> OK, I'll change the subject, but only with reluctance, because I fear we live in very uncertain times. Better news from BG who is still loving his new course at Lewes College. I don't see him much any more, as I may have said before, but that is fine by me if he is happy, and he patently is. It seems my job is done in that area, and I'm happy to have been that Nana.</span><br /></span></p><p><span><span><span> </span><span> </span><span> This morning have been trying to get through to the Premium Bonds people to bring my details up to date. Forty minutes later I got through, and everyone was very pleasant and helpful. I do feel like an old dodderer at times. and I suppose that will only get worse. I know they don't recommend it, but I have to write down all my passwords and numbers - otherwise I wouldn't remember them :) </span><br /></span></span></p><p><span><span><span>Ah well, Happy Days, as my dear old friend Lynne used to say ... time to move on.</span></span></span></p>A Mother's Place is in the Wronghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12383766405951386903noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5036991473828087819.post-40649360245669198322020-10-07T09:31:00.000-07:002020-10-07T09:31:09.797-07:00Don't speak too soon!<p><span> </span><span> </span><span> Of course I was tempting Providence with my last post. Big Grandson came home from College last Thursday with a nasty cough and on Friday had a temperature, so Daughter booked him a Virus test and they all had to self isolate. They had to wait until Sunday for him to get a test, and in the meantime had to just stay put. I guess the dog could have gone out, but they couldn't!</span></p><p><span><span> </span><span> </span><span> Anyway, forty-eight hours after the test (at about 11 o'clock this morning) BG was given the all-clear with a negative test result. What a sigh of relief - though Daughter and I had been pretty sure of the result. So they can all go back to work, school and college tomorrow, and I was allowed into the house to give them all a hug.</span></span></p><p><span><span><span> </span><span> </span><span> Today is another day - much better as everyone is back to normal. I went out early, after greeting my loverly cleaning ladies, to meet an old friend for a cup of coffee. That passed a couple of hours which were needed in order to exchange</span> all the news on our respective families. And then I went on to a luxurious manicure and pedicure, made all the more wonderful by the fact that I hadn't had either since before the beginning of the year. Ah well, now I have bright red finger and toenails which are amazing, and very relaxed feet after the massage. </span></span></p><p><span><span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span> No more news for now, so I'm off to do something about my supper. See you later....</span></span></p><p><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span> </p>A Mother's Place is in the Wronghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12383766405951386903noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5036991473828087819.post-44785820117607751962020-09-27T09:59:00.000-07:002020-09-27T09:59:31.103-07:00The Slough of Despond.<p><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> I am not casting aspersions</span> on Slough which is, I'm sure, a perfectly nice place to live. No, I'm actually referring to the state of mind which most of us endure at some time or other: that of feeling so low that life doesn't seem worth living in its current condition. We are in the throes of a dire situation, given the dreaded Pandemic and of course the looming "no deal Brexit" - both of which are giving us a really hard time. What to do? Well if you happen to be a University student, your options are even more limited than those of the rest of us. You have to stay put in your accomodation (which by the way is costing you a fortune, whether you are using it or not) you can't go out to the pub or a restaurant, and now there's the prospect of not being allowed to go home for Christmas. What bloody rubbish - and I don't care if they set the Stasi on me - we have to speak out when life becomes so absurd. As far as the rest of us are concerned, we are all being urged to upload this App or that App, follow the guidance issued by the (ridiculously inept) Government and, in other words, DO AS WE ARE TOLD. Well sorry, I'm not doing the bidding of this fat, white, entitled and corrupt so-called Government. .Nothing will convince me that they have my best interests at heart. So eat that Bojo.</p><p><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> On a brighter personal note, Big Grandson, who is 16, has started at his 6th Form College in Lewes, where he is taking Art & Design and Photography, plus re-taking Maths, and he is happy as a clam. He likes his Tutors and has met some new mates, which is all wonderful news</span>. He is already very much into the Art subject and is doing some great drawing and really enjoying working on the projects he's been set. This is all great and although the nett result is that he doesn't come to stay with me, I'm delighted that he is becoming more independent and confident with every day. He is obviously meeting young people with the same interests and talents and is running with it. Long may it last!</p><p>So far the Pandemic has not touched either us as a family, Daughter's workplace or Grandson's College. It does seem strange that there is apparently so much infection around us and yet we remain free of it. So far that is! I hope that you have all been similarly fortunate.</p><p> </p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p>11</p>A Mother's Place is in the Wronghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12383766405951386903noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5036991473828087819.post-85266139713071424052020-08-30T08:51:00.000-07:002020-08-30T08:51:21.666-07:00Bank Holiday Again... <p> Well here we are at the last Bank Holiday of this extraordinary Summer. And I really don't know where the time has gone. Big Grandson has been staying with me for the long weekend because everyone else is away! His Mum is on a weekend break with her Bloke and a couple of friends, and Granddaughter is away with her Dad and his parents for the Bank Hols too. Weirdly though, it turns out that they are all staying at the same Caravan and Camping park near Chichester! I don't imagine that they are actually socializing though - although I gather from Grandson that they are close enough to see each other. Oh the joy! I can just imagine it and feel quite glad to be here.</p><p> Big Grandson and I went out to the local Car Boot sale this morning, while it was still sunny, and he found two real bargains: one was a tripod for his new camera, for only £1! and the other was a large canvas of the Avengers, which is just up his street, for only £2. Bargains all round, and then we went on to my favourite Garden Centre (Rushfields on the way to Henfield) where we enjoyed coffee (me) ginger beer (him) and a light lunch. What was so lovely about it was that we mostly felt quite normal, and only had to put on our masks when we went in to browse the Farm Shop. Home again now and it's grey and cloudy so we had the best of the day really.</p><p> I'm in a quandary again because my possible house sale has reappeared. I have been thinking about it of course, so I shouldn't be surprised - but the local agent phoned out of the blue to say that he had a possible cash buyer for my house if I was interested. It seems my house has increased in value since last year and that would help hugely. What do I do? Son says I need a plan (and he is right) but he doesn't really help by sending me details of lovely houses near them in Sitges, which I can't afford unless I win the Lottery, or unless we join forces and live together in something with enough space to live separately (if you see what I mean). Oh it's all a conundrum. And Daughter doesn't want me to move abroad, understandably. But finding somewhere here that I can afford isn't so easy either. Here we go again! Son's other suggestion was that I could sell up and then put everything in store and go out there for a couple of months. This is a good idea, because I would then have a bit of time and space to decide what I really want. And the money would be ready and waiting. That's if we have the luxury of choosing where we want to live after bloody Brexit. Oh dear, I feel stuck in indecision and that's a fact. Help!</p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p>A Mother's Place is in the Wronghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12383766405951386903noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5036991473828087819.post-34723524877078319212020-08-08T05:03:00.000-07:002020-08-08T05:03:45.708-07:00Sitting Pretty... I'm still sitting here. but not sure for how long. I have actually been to look at an apartment that's for sale in Hove, well West Hove actually, and on the border of Portslade. Despite the dodgy address (at least as far as Hove purists will think) it's rather nice and I am tempted. It is smaller than this, but has some character and possibilities. Anyway I'm going for a second viewing this afternoon (with my trusty tape measure and notebook) and with Daughter, who can be relied on to take a practical view.<div> Well, the practical view was that it's too small and also on the corner of a pretty busy road, so the garden made it a bit vulnerable. Also, it had a burglar alarm, which is always a stumbling block for me. (The only time I have ever felt insecure was when Son was a baby and we lived in the middle of nowhere, in a beautiful farmhouse. It had a burglar alarm which would go off regularly in the middle of the night and made us totally paranoid. Usually it was set off by an owl swooping past or something similar, but it was horrible.) Of course, being on the ground floor anywhere makes one vulnerable, sadly, in this day and age. And I could see the point that it wouldn't be a good idea to "lock up and leave" on my trips to Spain. So there it was.</div><div> Never mind, none of us knows what is going to happen lockdownwise and viruswise, not to mention Brexit, which I dread more with every passing day. It's all such a a mess, and the mess is actually worldwide it seems to me. </div><div> Part of the family have decamped from Sitges to Poland for a couple of weeks, mostly to escape from the extreme heat there, though Son has stayed in Sitges and is working from home. Warsaw is apparently a bit cooler, but not much. (And in fact it's about as hot here!)</div><div> Daughter and family are fine, in and out of the paddling pool in the garden, and Granddaughter is dividing her time between Daughter and her Dad. Big Grandson is spending part of each week with me, just to relieve the monotony really (for him not me) and continues to eat me out of house and home. It has become the new 'normal' which is actually far from normal if I'm honest. </div><div> The big news is that we won the Virtual Pub Quiz last week (among our teams that is). My theory is that our team of two had the oldest (me) and the youngest (Big Grandson), so were able to cover a wider range of questions. BG knows all the pop culture answers and I know most of the 'historical' ones. It's a system that works, and I think we'll do it next week too. We scored 41 out of 50 questions. </div><div> Time to go, I've been wittering on for long enough.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>A Mother's Place is in the Wronghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12383766405951386903noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5036991473828087819.post-44963928592836919802020-07-19T06:25:00.000-07:002020-07-19T06:25:47.107-07:00Rainy Sunday. Hello again, and apologies for my prolonged absence. Once again 'Groundhog Day' syndrome has had me in its grasp and time drips by without any particular feature to distinguish day from day. I would like to say that I have been busy and productive, but nothing could be further from the truth. The one thing I have done is to look out my poetry which has been languishing in a folder for years.<br />
Actually it is a good exercise, because it has forced me to look back at my life in terms of when I wrote the odd verse to express how I was feeling. The first was about leaving Primary School and I have progressed now to when I moved to London and started working in Advertising. There is still plenty to come, and it is surprising to me how much just reading it brings back those moments and experiences. They are vivid again and so are the feelings that were brought to the surface. I think it was Wordsworth who said that poetry was 'emotion recollected in tranquility'. Well maybe it was for him, but I can vouch for the fact that mine (whether it's very bad or not) still feels raw at times. It has me totally removed to where I was and what I was doing. There is still plenty to go, and it may not amount to anything in the end, but I feel it is necessary to go on and finish what I have started.<br />
I have been virtually meeting up with various friends and we have been setting challenges for each other. The best one has been a cookie baking challenge which I have taken up with gusto. My version is not with Crunchy Peanut Butter (simply because I'm not fond of peanuts) but with Crunchy Almond or Cashew Nut Butter which you can find in any Health Food Shop. It has been so successful that I make a batch most weeks: it takes about ten minutes to put together and another ten minutes to bake. I use a jar of nut butter to two tablespoons of brown sugar and one egg, simply mixed together in a bowl until it's doughy (if it's still too sticky you can sift in a tablespoon of flour and mix in well). Then put tablespoons of the mix spaced out on a baking sheet lined with baking paper. Bake in the oven, on gas mark 4, for about ten minutes.<br />
And I can promise you that they're divine - a Lockdown Treat. I have to ration myself to two a day:))<br />
<br />A Mother's Place is in the Wronghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12383766405951386903noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5036991473828087819.post-70463706600065142482020-06-30T13:04:00.002-07:002020-06-30T13:04:47.123-07:00Where there's a Will... I just thought I could squeak in another post before the end of the month, and here it is! Today has been cold, windy, rainy - and very trying for me. I had arranged for a Legal man to come and help me write a Will, something I have been successfully avoiding for a good few years. I looked in my document box last night and discovered the last one I wrote which was in 1988. It was the year after we moved to Cambridge, when my children were still young (9 and 7) and there was a lot of complicated stuff going on in our lives. I had recovered from the brain tumour and we were happily settled in our new house, but it had been traumatic to say the least. Anyway, what I discovered when I found the Will was that I had signed it but not had it witnessed! As it turned out it hadn't mattered because here I still am - and also it was a registered copy, not the original which I assume is still sitting tight in the old Solicitor's office! What a palaver, but we sat here for an hour and a half at the end of which I had a draft Will and a possible Power of Attorney too. Enough said - and I spent the rest of the day feeling rather overwhelmed by it all. It's expensive too, but I guess it removes any anxiety for my Children when the inevitable happens.<br />
What a day, and something I don't want to repeat really. And just to cheer me up further, I had a letter from the Eye Hospital confirming that I need three more eye injections, and casually mentioning that my eyes have deteriorated a bit since they were last examined. Oh bugger, it seems I am gradually falling apart.<br />
I'll just say goodbye to June, and to you, for now...Let's hope for a better July.A Mother's Place is in the Wronghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12383766405951386903noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5036991473828087819.post-73814037327672744092020-06-27T07:43:00.000-07:002020-06-27T07:43:20.386-07:00Another Heat Wave... This week has been another very hot one, overall. We had a couple of days when it was hotter here in England than in Majorca and Ibiza, which is all very well but we are not all on holiday and heading for the beach, Oh wait though, that's exactly what did happen - the mindless majority did apparently do precisely that. I do wonder that anyone can consider this to be ok behaviour when a couple of weeks ago we were all obeying the instruction to stay safely at home!! I'm afraid I put the blame firmly on Boris Johnson for allowing the ghastly Dominic Cummings to flout all the rules, do precisely as he pleased and get away with it. The fact that many people are having unbounded beach parties,dancing in the streets and being encouraged to drink in pubs again is directly attributable to Cummings' behaviour. Have we already forgotten the fact that during lockdown he was spotted (and filmed) dancing to Abba in the garden at his parents' house, and that next day he celebrated his wife's birthday with a visit to Barnard Castle? And then drove all the way back home to London after he had finished his family celebrations. Just multiply this behaviour - firmly supported by the Prime Minister - by hundreds of thousands (they can all read after all - or mostly) and you can see where the current attitudes have come from. You'd better duck Johnson, because the mud slinging will eventually come your way. At least I fervently hope it will.<br />
I did go to the beach on one of our hot days, as I was longing for a swim. I left it until about 5pm but there were still quite a few people on Shoreham Beach. No problem social distancing though, and I had a lovely cold splash in the sea before I came back to cook supper. Big Grandson was here again and we had a very companionable time. It is all a bit like Groundhog Day though: the weeks are much the same and here we are nearly at the end of June.<br />
Today we have some very welcome rain, and I have purple flowers on my climbing bean plant and white flowers on my strawberry plant. Still no flowers on the nasturtiums though, and I'm just about keeping the blackfly at bay. Another day in Paradise...<br />
A Mother's Place is in the Wronghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12383766405951386903noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5036991473828087819.post-40090257769564213862020-06-17T09:22:00.000-07:002020-06-17T09:22:31.243-07:00Eyes Right! This week has been almost normal so far - and it's only Wednesday. On Monday I was summoned to the Brighton Eye Hospital for a check on my right eye which is afflicted with AMD (Age-related Macular Degeneration). I had been due for a check up in February just as we were beginning to be really aware of the Corona Virus, so my appointment had been postponed. Anyway I had not been back and it was long overdue. I have to admit to being very nervous, not only because the eyes have been a bit blurry, but also because I worried about the condition getting worse. Luckily<br />
though the opinion was that there had been some improvement after the last course of treatment, and they recommended three more injections in the eye over a three month period. All the eye tests, scans and examinations were done without fuss and I have to say that the doctors and nurses were all wonderful: very efficient, kind, thoughtful and, without exception, from the BAME community. It was a sobering experience which made we realise just how much we owe to these people who work for our NHS, which is (at the moment) free and without equal. I made sure to thank each and every one who treated me and left feeling rather blessed. I just hope our Government will reward them properly in the future - it's all very well clapping them, but a decent pay rise is long overdue.<br />
My little garden is crying out for some rain. The roses are all in bloom and looking lovely, but everything is desperately dry. I keep on watering, but they need some proper rain. I'm trying to grow a few edibles, Climbing beans and nasturtiums are climbing well, but the spinach seeds just disappeared and my strawberry plants are all leaf and no flower. So far it's a B minus I'm afraid.<br />
Big Grandson is staying with me for a few days and we are looking forward to watching a bit of football this evening. We are having spaghetti Bolognese and strawberries and ice cream for supper, and will no doubt be glued to the TV. Manchester United are playing and I guess young Marcus Rashford will get a special cheer because of his successful venture into politics in getting the dreadful Boris to agree to feed hungry schoolchildren in the Summer Holidays. Good for him! He grew up with a single-parent Mum and was one of five children, so he knows what he is talking about.<br />
What a lovely young man!A Mother's Place is in the Wronghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12383766405951386903noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5036991473828087819.post-59972672677193395822020-06-09T10:39:00.000-07:002020-06-09T10:39:02.816-07:00June is bustin' out all over... Those of you who are my vintage, or thereabouts, will recognise the reference and will realise that I have been indulging in old Hollywood films in my spare time. I did watch Guys and Dolls (see above) and also Carousel, which reduced me to a sobbing wreck!! I know - how could that happen, but I was obviously at a low point and the pathos of the story just got to me. It took me a whole hour to get through the sobbing, after which I felt better. I suspect we are all behaving a bit irrationally at the moment, and letting it all out is probably the best thing. Of course I am mostly on my own, so there is no-one else to see my collapses - probably for the best.<br />
The general mismanagement of the Corona Virus Pandemic seems to be going on without pause - I really despair of this Government and the bunch of misfits who seem to be runnning the show. What are we supposed to do - just watch? The latest dreadful drama is the killing of a black man by a policeman in America - which has enraged the whole world just about. That this kind of thing can and does still happen anywhere in the world is a matter for our collective shame. How can we ever justify this kind of behaviour? It makes the cheerful, musical America of the Fifties look like a complete farce - technicolour it may be, but examine it closely and you see that everyone (yes everyone) is white, young-ish and living a carefree Yankee-doodle life. It really should make us sick.<br />
I think I'll just stop now and get on with my supper, the state of the world is not a joyful one, and makes me feel ashamed. I'm certainly ashamed to be British and would never condone the dreadful attitudes of "people" like Farage and Gove, Cummings and Rees Mogg. Please god let them all go away!! A Mother's Place is in the Wronghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12383766405951386903noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5036991473828087819.post-18353697012416904212020-05-30T11:51:00.000-07:002020-05-30T11:51:38.095-07:00Birthday Boy Well today is Big Grandson's 16th Birthday, and we had a glorious day for it. I sang Happy Birthday to him on the phone this morning, and then later Daughter had a barbeque in her garden. After the bbq we had Prosecco and cake as well, and sweltered in the sun. Lovely! And Granddaughter had a really lovely time in the paddling pool, changing her swimming cosie several times and ending up quite happily in the nude under the hose (she is nearly six, so nothing inappropriate there). Grandson's presents were brilliant: he had a fabulous camera (Canon) with all the bells and whistles from his Mum and her Bloke, which he really loved (he will hopefully be doing Photography for one of his A Levels). And he had a pair of cool red Vans (trainers), T Shirt, various bits and pieces and some money from his Grandfather (my ex in New Zealand), my Sister (Nana Rosie), and me. I've also got him some cool (his description) headphones which are coming from America, They are on the way, shipping is confirmed, but as they hadn't arrived I gave him a bit of money in his card. On the whole it has been a very nice day. I was reminded of his actual birth day, back in 2004, when Son and I drove up from London to Pontefract Hospital in Yorkshire, where Grandson was about to be born. It was Bank Holiday Sunday, a lovely day, and we arrived at the Hospital in good time for the birth. He actually made his appearance at 10.44 pm, and he was quite blue, with the chord around his neck. Nobody panicked and he was fine. His father Simon was there and my ex Husband with his new wife (they had come over from NZ for the occasion) plus Simon's Mother and her partner. A bit of a motley crew, but I was so pleased we made it in time.<br />
Ah well, memories. And now he is 16 and 6 feet tall. And a lovely boy too.<br />
We are at the end of May, and after two months of Lockdown nothing much seems to have changed. I have to say that I am not impressed with the way Bojo and his Clowns have managed things. I don't believe all their propaganda, and our record of infections, tests and deaths is dreadful. I think we are second only to America in numbers of casualties. And as for the dreadful Dominic Cummings and his comings and goings, I am totally disgusted with the double standards that have been applied, not to mention outraged at his arrogance and total dismissal of what any of us, the real people who have lost loved ones, might feel. Of course feelings are probably not on his radar. He is no doubt very clever; so was Machiavelli, and Robespierre, and Svengali and Cromwell... and look what happened to them.<br />
I could go on, but you get the picture.<br />
<br />A Mother's Place is in the Wronghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12383766405951386903noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5036991473828087819.post-74305832103821034992020-05-21T10:37:00.002-07:002020-05-21T10:37:58.795-07:00It ain't half hot Mum! Well it's steaming hot here, just like Summer, only I'm trying not take it for granted, as I'm sure we'll revert to chilly days again. It's weird, but the heat is making the lockdown even quieter. When I step outside my door there's a sort of stillness, a desert feeling - I can't explain it any better than that - and I half expect to see weary, thirsty travellers making their way to my door. In fact, I already have a visitor in the shape of Big Grandson, who is staying for a few days just for a change. And it's true to say that he is always thirsty, and hungry, though not exactly weary as he doesn't do much except "chill" and chat away on his phone with his mates. He has been an exceptionally good guest, very grateful for every meal and drink, and as Daughter supplied me with a bag of food for his visit, I haven't had to do any big shopping. He is actually very good company, which is not bad for a teenage boy (due to be 16 on 30th of this month). We have taken a bit of gentle exercise and played a few games of Poker (he was given a Poker set for an early Birthday present) and tonight he is going to be my partner in the Virtual Pub Quiz. This will be very exciting for me as I have been playing on my own (with 180,000 other people, virtually) for the last three weeks. Daughter and her Partner also play, and the Spanish contingent of Son, Partner and Little Grandson with any luck. It doesn't start until 8.15, so is a bit late for Son and Co as they're an hour ahead. Anyway, we shall see if they join us. I'm expecting great things.<br />
It's odd, but I'm feeling rather tired and achy generally. This is extremely annoying as I don't normally give in to this kind of feeling. Maybe it's just the Virus getting to me - I don't mean literally, but it's the Lockdown and the general doom and gloom. Ah well, I'm off to put a pizza in the oven and sip a glass of Rose Spritzer before the Quiz. Let's hope Grandson brings me luck : )A Mother's Place is in the Wronghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12383766405951386903noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5036991473828087819.post-72802656729663104342020-05-11T03:59:00.000-07:002020-05-11T03:59:42.065-07:00Staying at Home... Actually I'm going to ignore the so-called advice from our incompetent PM and stay at home as much as possible. I annoyed my Daughter last night when she asked me if I had watched Boris on TV and I admitted that I hadn't. Her angry response was that I'm lucky I don't have to go out to work or worry about sending children to school - and of course she is right and I am (once again) in the wrong. It's ok for me, was the implication, because I'm a pensioner and don't have to find the money to pay rent!! There was really no answer, except I'm pretty sure that I am one of the expendables (in the malevolent eyes of Dominic Cummings, advisor-in-chief to our PM, who patently doesn't give a shit about getting rid of us oldies). I couldn't say that of course without inflaming the situation further so I just avoided any further comment. I do worry about her though, because she is anxious to get back to her normal routine which means sending Granddaughter back to school too. How you keep children of 5 and 6 at a safe distance from each other I don't know - it's a minefield and could be really dangerous. How will we know who has been in touch with whom, and whether they have the bloody virus. A silent enemy is always dangerous, but one which is also invisible is impossible to deal with. I have no answers, I only wish I did, but in the meantime I'm staying home.<br />
Blowing hot and cold is the weather at the mo! I'm still occupied with sorting out my bit of front garden and waiting for the seeds to germinate and show themselves. I also, quite accidentally, inspired my neighbour to get to grips with her front garden, which was terribly overgrown with ancient shrubs. She has cleared them all and we were actually sewing grass seed together. Very companionable. I also went down to the beach and collected some large-ish stones to edge my border and am very pleased with the result. There was practically no-one about on Shoreham Beach, so it wasn't difficult to be socially distant - I combined my daily walk with collecting a few stones and felt that I had actually accomplished something And I don't think the beach will miss my stones - though I acknowledge that we wouldn't want everyone to do the same. That's about the extent of my misdemeanors for the time being. I'll try not to upset Daughter again, and I'll keep away from those tempting stones.<br />
I know my place.<br />
A Mother's Place is in the Wronghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12383766405951386903noreply@blogger.com0