Don't remind me...

I had completely forgotten that the 25th was my ex-husband's birthday - and of course there's no reason why I should remember, except it's one of those dates that sticks in my mind. Birthdays have always been tricky where he was concerned. After he left me (for my secretary) I was regularly shouted at for not reminding the children about her birthday (why would I do that?), and his behaviour around his own childrens' birthdays was just awful. He would turn up on the day, when they were really excited, and pretend that he had forgotten. He would say "Oh, is it your birthday? Should I have brought you something?" By the time he had said these words, it was too late. Birthday spoiled. And I can remember every year feeling extreme pain when I saw their little excited faces fall. Never mind that he did bring something - and that he hadn't really forgotten - it was too late to recapture that excitement. He must have thought it was a good joke, because he repeated it year after year. And I hated it every time. The effect, particularly on Son, has been long-lasting and horrid. To this day, when I ask him what he wants for his birthday he says "Oh Nothing." He just doesn't want to allow himself to get excited about something that might not happen. I could kill that insensitive pratt for creating such everlasting disappointment. Daughter is not as bad, but still won't talk to her father about birthdays, presents or money. She just says "Mum, it's not worth it." Bless her heart, and what an idiot he is to have created such unhappiness around what should be a fun time. It was all about money for him - and keeping most of it for himself. Surely to give, particularly to your own children, is one of the joys of life? And if birthdays are a chance to spoil them a bit, I'm all for it. I would make a very good rich person, because my children, and all my friends, would have a lovely time.

Car has been MOT'd, and only needed something done to a brake cable. Just £113 later and I'm safe, legal and ready for the open road to Cornwall. I'm about to start ironing clean clothes (Son always says "why?" - he never irons anything) and packing them. I've found my lovely new/old, grey Joseph jumper (courtesy of Sister's movie contact) and I'm beginning to feel 'demob' happy. (For those of you too young to remember, when blokes of my Dad's generation were finally coming out of the forces after the Second World War, they were said to be "demobbed" - I guess it's short for demobilised - and were very happy indeed to be going home after maybe five or seven years!) Anyway, another piece of useless information from my past..

Last night Gay Friend came round for supper and we watched a video afterwards. We have decided to have regular movie evenings, especially since you can now pick up good videos at a Car Boot really cheaply - the last lot were 3 for £1. Our choice for last night was "Get Shorty" - full of casual violence and irony. A black-humorous look at L.A. life and the movie business, with John Travolta and Danny de Vito - plus Bette Midler who is always wonderful. Most enjoyable. We shared a box of chocs and had a lovely evening.

I also have a new haircut to take to Cornwall, which is rather smart (the haircut, not Cornwall). I always feel in need of a shorter, smarter look for Winter - to go with the smart Winter clothes I wish I could afford. Still, the haircut gets me half way there...

Time for a Break.

I'm pleased to say that the pink-eye has receded, along with my tiredness, so today was much better. I also gathered together all my courage, and a Brighton Best Friend, to go and see the errant estate agents and find out what exactly is happening - or not happening. It was worth it, because between us we managed to get to the bottom of what has been wrong, and I now understand why it has been so hard. I almost felt sorry for them - but not quite, because if they had been upfront and honest with us about their difficulties, we could have understood each other sooner. Anyway, BBF and I then went and had a celebratory drink in Carluccio's (she had hot chocolate and I had cappucino). It was such a relief to get it sorted.

Now I can get ready for my little holiday and actually look forward to it. I'm going to drive down to Cornwall on Friday and stay, until Wednesday, with a very old Best Friend and her bloke in what sounds like the most lovely house near Truro. Cornwall BF has also booked us into an oil painting day course on Saturday, which I'm very excited about. I've dabbled in water colour, which everyone says is terribly difficult, but as it's the only thing I've had lessons in, it's the only medium I actually understand. I must go and sort out clothes and stuff to pack. The car is going in for its MOT tomorrow morning, and I'm having my hair cut at Trevor Sorbie.

I do actually know Trevor, he's another old mate from my Advertising days. When I was writing commercials, and then shooting them on film, Trevor often used to do the hair. We had Barbara Daly on make-up too. Quite a line-up in those days. Trevor really hasn't changed much. I bumped into him at his salon a few months ago and we did the usual reminiscences about models and photographers; wondering what had happened to old friends etc. It was all such a long time ago. Of course we both have grown-up children now, and there has been a lot of water under the bridge, but it was nice to catch up. He is very talented and has been fantastically successful, but he's still the same nice, funny guy.

Ho-hum, time for bed. I still haven't done the poetry competition entry - perhaps it will have to wait until I come back from Cornwall...

You look tired..

Dammit, I've got the grit in the eyeballs from tiredness, plus a very attractive watery eye which could, of course, turn into conjunctivitis! Grandson is absolutely not to blame, because he slept like an angel in the small bedroom, and didn't come into my bed until about 5.45am this morning. That would have been fine if I had slept normally, but I did what I often do - lie awake thinking that he might wake up and also worrying about anything and everything that pops into my head. After he was collected by Daughter this morning, I gave in and went back to bed. And having slept for an hour and had a shower, I do feel semi-human again.

My horoscope today says that I should invest in something that improves my sense of self-worth. So, am going to make an appointment to have my hair cut, and have also decided to enter a poetry competition. Of course a rejection would not really improve my sense of self-worth, but that may - or may not - come later.

My lovely Italian Student was very impressed with Grandson at breakfast this morning. He insisted on buttering some toast and putting marmalade on too, then brought in his Thomas the Tank Engine dominoes and put them together in record time.
This was pretty impressive, particularly since his verbal skills have improved so much recently and he was very clear with all the names of the engines. My Italian Student said, smiling, "He is a fine boy." I couldn't have put it better myself.

It's sunny but cold, so I'm going out for a blast of fresh air to clear away the anxiety cobwebs that threaten to strangle me if I just stay in and do nothing.I have been searching through files for important pieces of paper, some of which I can't find, so a change of scene will hopefully bring a fresh perspective.
"How much time do I have left? A little while/
to stretch the skin across the bones and smile.."

Let me out of here.

Oh God, the sins of the Estate Agents are endless. This afternoon, after holding off all morning on checking the websites, we discovered that nothing had been put right. Nothing! Still no pictures, wrong prices and a complete blank on the "new" company website. We tried not to have hysterics, and thankfully read our horoscopes, which told us to calm down and not over react! More phone calls. More (empty) promises.

I went down to the flat to show some new prospective buyers around this evening. They are contacts from our private website, and were extremely nice. Just as I was showing them out, however, I managed to lock myself out, leaving bag, keys and phone inside. Luckily the couple had not left the building, and kindly let me use a mobile to call Daughter, who promptly said "You Wally." I waited only ten minutes for the Boyfriend to come to the rescue, but it really has been one of those days. Grandson is asleep upstairs, and I am about to follow suit. Tomorrow is another day...

Oh I do like to be beside the Seaside.

Yesterday was pretty good on the whole, sunny and warm enough to take Grandson to the Paddling Pool (though the water has been drained out now) for a game of football.
One of my Brighton Best Friends came down to meet us, and we had a very sociable couple of hours, ending up at the Meeting Place with coffee and rock cake. Lovely.
Grandson was quite tired by this time, and wolfed down his sandwich and flapjack before settling quite happily into his buggy for the walk home.

My new student arrived in the middle of the afternoon, having travelled from Padua, via Stansted Airport. Padua sounds so romantic - I'm sure it's still essentially the same as it was when Shakespeare used it as a location for one of his plays. Was it "The Taming of the Shrew"? I can't remember, but must look it up. Anyway my new student is just like a Modigliani portrait to look at. She has the long, pale face, black hair parted in the middle and gathered in at the nape of the neck, wonderful pale skin, no makeup. She must have been some beauty when she was young. Sadly, her english is appalling - but of course she is here to improve it!

Breakfast this morning at 9am turned into breakfast at 9.30 because Italian Student didn't surface in time. I was going to the Car Boot, just to look, so had to scoot off and leave her to it. Gay Friend and I had a really good trawl of the stalls and came back with some great bargains - one of the things I found was a lovely old oak tray with metal handles and edges which I look forward to cleaning up and giving as a present to my Cornwall Best Friend. Gay Friend found an old enamel draining board (I can remember my grandmother using one just like it) and a great fold-up director's chair which had been recovered in a soft creamy velvet. Plus other bits and pieces. I think we spent about a fiver each!

Had a lovely message from Sister today, and phoned her back. It's great being in touch properly again, and getting involved with each other's lives. Then cooked supper for my Italian lady, after which I rushed off to do a Pub Quiz. Didn't win tonight though - there were only two of us Spritzer Sisters this evening, and we missed the extra brain power of the other regulars. I think we came fourth, and won a cuddly toy, which I tucked into my bag to give to Grandson tomorrow.

Heard on the news this morning that seaside towns are being targetted as good places to live by those on benefits - apparently it's a nicer life by the sea, even if you are a single parent or out of work. Those who surf and laze on the beach, however, are in for a bit of a shock. They are about to lose their benefits! What I want to know is how they are going to find out who is slacking and who isn't? I suppose a suntan would be a bit of a giveaway. Whatever next.

My Brave Little Soldier.

There has been a change of energy today, thank heavens, and I'm feeling more positive - more like myself. This morning I thought I couldn't go on being negative, so decided to make things happen. And it worked. I phoned Estate Agents, spoke to both Son and Daughter, and got things moving. I have to say though that Estate Agents do get so much wrong. Two weeks ago we reduced the price on the flat, after much discussion with the agents, only for Son to discover today that the price still hadn't been reduced on the Internet, and, to make things worse, it didn't even appear on their company website! Wrong price. No pictures. No wonder we hadn't had any viewings! And the offer we had last week seems to have disappeared into outer space - no-one knows where the prospective buyer is. I know the offer wasn't great, but it was an offer! I rather felt like saying that they should be paying us to sell this flat, not the other way around. I hope it's all been sorted now, and we do have another viewing booked through our private website. Fingers (and everything else) crossed.

I'm expecting another foreign student this weekend, this time from Italy. She's a mature woman (fifty-something) and I will be providing breakfast and an evening meal for her, so I expect to have some tasty verbal titbits to regale you with. She will only be here for a week, and I'm going away at the end of that week, so it will be short and sweet.

Tomorrow it's my day with Grandson again, while Daughter works in the Beach Cafe. I'm collecting him from the cafe at 9.30 in the morning, and will probably have him until 6pm, unless the weather turns nasty and the cafe closes early. My new student arrives at about 4.30, so it will be a busy day. I'm hoping for some sunshine so that we can at least spend the morning by the sea or playing football. (Speaking of which, what a result my team had last night against Famagusta! 6 - 1 for the Spurs. That's what I call a decent scoreline.) Anyway, back to Grandson. He had a fall at the flat yesterday, slid on the polished floor and hit his little head on the corner moulding of the archetrave. It must have hurt like billyo, and he screamed. I felt as if I was going to be sick. He has a huge dark blue bruise on his forehead and a nasty red line down the centre - yet 10 minutes after his fall he was apparently fine. It just looks awful. He went off to pre-school quite cheerfully this morning, though, and when we went to collect him he insisted on kissing all the helpers goodbye. They are lovely ladies, and all gave him hugs and kisses in return. He's such a little darling - though I acknowledge that I may be slightly biased. I must get some photos of him and put them on this blog - if only I could work out how to do it...

Keep Moving.

I am feeling so short of the necessary light of life today that I can hardly put one letter in front of another. It's just the fact that I can't seem to make anything more happen with Son's flat sale - try as I might. We are all on hold, and it just needs someone to take their finger off the 'pause' button and hit 'play'. If the Great all-providing Universe is listening, let's just get moving, please!

Grandson stayed with me last night, and that was lovely - though he didn't particularly want to go to bed, which is unusual for him. I left him in my bed at 7pm, and about 10 minutes later he wandered into the sitting room saying "I not tired." I was watching Doctor Who (a repeat of course), so he sat down and said
"I like Doctor Who". We cuddled up for a while, and then watched some of "Aladdin", which he knows off by heart. I finally got him into bed and asleep by 8.30pm. Maybe the fact that I'm a bit down is due to being tired - he was awake again at 6am - and when Grandson is awake, no-one sleeps!

It's a grey, windy, cold and cheerless morning, more like instant Winter than Autumn and I'm glad I don't live down on the seafront. When I was house-hunting here I thought I wanted a sea view, but now I know that would have been a mistake. In the South of France I'm sure it would be divine, but with our winters, often six months long, the reality is grey and rather depressing for much of the year. I often walk or cycle by the sea, as I'm only 5 minutes away from the beach, but that's close enough on a day like today. Come to think of it, it's exactly 5 years today since we moved to Brighton, or Hove actually. How time has flown and how our lives have changed. And now it's time we were all moving on again. Please..