Moving on Swiftly..

I'm still fuming about Derek Conway and Sons, though real life does seem to be catching up with them a bit. Today I was furiously clearing and cleaning - I'm feeling as if my life has taken a new turn, and I'm delighted. I have emptied yet more files, and shredded another sackful of old paperwork. In between times I feel very tired, but it's so good to be shedding the past - shredding and shedding!

Daughter seems very happy still, although she is having some difficulty in applying for Primary Schools for Grandson. (He is due to start school in September.) She has been told by the local Education Authorities that she is too late to apply for some schools - yet the Sunday Times last Sunday said that the final date for applications is this Friday (tomorrow). I don't pretend to understand why there should be different deadlines for different areas, but I do think that she should be able to send him to the school of her choice. I remember that when we moved to Cambridge there was a place for Son at the local Primary (which was literally 5 minutes away round the corner), but they were doubtful about fitting Daughter in. As Son was nearly 8 and Daughter nearly 6, I held out and didn't panic - we had only moved to the area in July, so I was beyond late as far as applications were concerned. In the end, they found a place for her, and they were both very happy there until they were 11. And then that was another story. I don't envy Daughter starting on that awful education merry-go-round.

Last evening my Gay Friend came round for a video evening. We haven't had one of those for ages, but were just about ready for it. He had a tale to tell, which I'll pass on to you. He had been to the Dentist for a tricky filling in one of his front teeth - and the Dentist had said that it might involve root canal work! Anyway, it didn't, but the Dentist asked him if he ever took recreational drugs (!). "Why" I asked? Well, apparently Cocaine users sometimes rub the stuff on their gums - and I guess this must cause decay? I then said "I think I've seen that in films!" Naive or what? And he laughed his loud and distinctive laugh and said "I've seen it in real life." Ah well - I didn't know what to say, so we just sat and watched the film (and ate the rose-flavoured chocolate he had brought). It was "Iris" - a very sombre and tricky movie. Judi Dench was wonderful, as ever, and Jim Broadbent was utterly believable as the husband who couldn't cope with the horror of losing the person he had always loved. The Tyranny of Youth was what came to my mind - if the film was to be believed, she had always dangled him on a very long piece of string which meant she could do whatever she wanted, sleep around etc, and he would always be there as her "terra firma"- at least while she was young and lovely. Old age is a very different kettle of fish. Scary...

PS. This is my 150th post. Just noticed when I pressed the button. What a cause for celebration!

Privilege.

I'm getting up on my soapbox again after hearing about Derek Conway, the Conservative MP, and his sons. I know that it's natural to want to help your children through University - I did it for both of mine - but surely not at the cost of the poor old taxpayer? I earned the money to help my kids - and I rented out Son's bedroom to pay for his rent at Uni. It wasn't easy money. I know we don't have Grants any more, but that doesn't mean that anyone in a position of power and influence can just help themselves, does it? What makes me angry is that both my children (in common with thousands of others)have come away from their brush with Higher Education owing large sums of money to the Student Loan Company!! And they have interest added on for every year that loan remains unpaid. OK, fine. But why should Derek Conway's sons not only be given a handsome income for simply being his sons, but they have also come away from the experience completely debt-free. This makes me very angry indeed. Especially since my Son has been told - contrary to what he was led to believe originally - that his Student Debt does indeed affect both his credit rating and what he might be allowed to borrow on a mortgage. Once again, it's one rule for them and another for us. And it's not enough for Mr Conway to apologize to all his mates at the House of Commons - his boys should be saddled with that borrowing along with the rest of us. After all, they have been given money they weren't entitled to. They should be made to understand that that kind of money doesn't grow on trees. It has to be hard-earned by most of us. And their father should have known better in the first place. It's not fair that we should all be paying for their years at University while they piss off without owing a penny, thinking that it's easy pickings. The end result is that they are benefitting from privilege. It leaves a bad taste in the mouth. Bloody politicians.

Today I went to see Daughter and Grandson for the first time since they moved. They have rented a nice little end of terrace in a village near Dorking. It's cosy and they seem to have settled in well. Grandson was not exactly over the moon when I arrived, but I think that's because he wasn't expecting to see me again! I think he believed that they had gone a long way away - and I suppose it is in his terms. We drove into Dorking to buy him some new shoes, and to look at a new Nursery School for him. This turned out to be a really good experience. The school is bright and has lots of space, and they have a nice outside playground. Grandson met lots of other children and seemed very happy - I think he has really missed Nursery over the last month. Anyway, Daughter registered him and they are going back for an Open Day on Saturday (which is also Chinese New Year). They can take him from next week, on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays, which is what he used to do here. I hope the little darling will be happy there.

Looking on my Sitemeter, I saw that my latest reader, early this morning, was from a dot in the middle of the Pacific Ocean: Pearl City, Hawaii! What a wonderfully romantic name. My geography is terrible, so I was moved to get the atlas out and look it up. There, in the middle of the impossibly blue sea were these tiny islands, little specks in all that space. I then spent a glorious hour finding most of my other far-flung readers: a couple of friends in Canada and one on the edge of Hudson Bay, one in Israel, one from India, another from Buenos Aires and several nearer to home, in France. The relief maps in my Atlas make it all look so real - what a wonderful world it is..

Shredding the Past.

I'm sitting here holding my left hand because it hurts. Last night I came back from dinner with a couple of Brighton Best Friends and decided that I would carry out my recycling boxes for the morning. Only I thought I could carry them both together, and it wasn't a good idea! The result was that I lay in bed last night cradling the sprained hand, and today it has been pretty painful, on and off.

The last few days have been rather a blur anyway. I tootled off on Friday afternoon to meet another old friend, who lives in the Forest of Dean. We have been friends for about a hundred years, but I hadn't seen her recently because last year she (also!) had an operation for a Brain Tumour and so wasn't really up to much. She has made a very good recovery, though, and now looks as good as new. We booked into an hotel in Petersfield (she had spent the day visiting her old Auntie who is 96!) and had a proper catching-up session. It was great. We enjoyed a lovely supper and some very good wine. And then we just fell into bed and slept like logs. In the morning we sat in their restaurant and drank very good coffee before parting and promising to do the same again soon. Anyway, my student had survived without me and was perfectly happy on his own. I can't remember what else I did at the weekend, except a walk by the sea yesterday because it was such a glorious day. I walked with a friend to the Meeting Place, and we both enjoyed a late breakfast sitting gazing at the sea. More good coffee and lots of good conversation. Once I'm home again though I just keep falling asleep. I think the events of the last week or so (and the last eighteen months!) are catching up with me, because I just can't keep my eyes open.

Today I have spent most of the time shredding the paperwork from the past. All the letters, documents and legal stuff relating to Son's ex-flat have been shredded and stuffed into a large green polythene sack. And that sack is now in my bin, ready to be collected on Wednesday. It felt very good getting rid of it. Bring on the Future.

Run Rat, Run..

I'm beginning to sound like a Moaning Minnie; I just don't feel wonderful, but it's probably because I was sort of relying on the stress to keep me going. And now it's gone! Get a life is the phrase that comes to mind - I need to get on with it!

I took a brisk walk this morning, although it wasn't very inviting. Today the sea was icy grey, with a dull silver sheen marking the sun's path, and ruffled by a bitter wind. The beach has been scoured flat by the recent high tides and the shoreline is still littered with giant matchwood as far as the eye can see. Some people have been taking advantage of this bounty, but not many. If the owners of the wood are serious about recovering it, they'll have a near-impossible task - and lots of planks are still being washed ashore along the whole Sussex coast.

Reading Wife in the North today, I was reminded about a true story concerning rats, and told by our neighbouring farmer when we lived (the Ex and I) in the depths of rural Gloucestershire. He, the Farmer, had been plagued by rats in the animal feed and was desperate to get rid of them. So he sent for some stuff which he was instructed to paint on the "rat run" and leave overnight. Imagine his horror the next morning when he went to look and found that the "stuff", which was black, thick and sticky, had literally trapped the rats as they ran up to the feed. They had been stuck fast, and had bitten and clawed at each other in desperate attempts to get free. Of course they were mostly dead by the morning but, and he said it with a shiver, it was one of the worst sights he had ever seen! And he had to clear it up. Ugh..

Fading Fast..

I have to do this quickly while I can still stay awake. Since the Flat Sale was completed at 4pm yesterday, I have felt totally wiped out - not even jubilant as I had expected, but simply relieved and shattered. In the end, we had to wait (as it turned out) three whole days for our Buyer to produce all the money necessary to buy the Flat. Now you would have thought that as the whole selling and buying process took just over 7 months, she would have been prepared and ready with the money on Completion Day. Wouldn't you? No such thing - we had panic phone call after panic phone call (at least I did) saying that she had not known the total amount due and was desperately trying to get all the money to her Solicitors. Of course, I knew what we had to do, and had checked it with our Solicitor. She said she wasn't good at figures - I said I worked it out on the calculator. Anyway, this went on for three full days, and in the end the money only hit our account at 4pm yesterday, so it was too late to transfer it then (because of banking hours) and had to wait until this morning. I was instructed, however, to hand over the keys to her because the money was safe in our Solicitor's Account. (Of course it was, how silly of me!)
This I did, giving her our three sets of keys at 5pm. Great. I let everyone else know the good news, and then got ready to go out for supper with a friend. We walked to a local Italian restaurant (which turns out to be owned by Iranians!) and had a lovely meal and large glasses of white wine. The day was not over though - at 9.45pm my mobile rang and the new owner of Son's flat was almost in tears at the other end, saying she had locked herself out of the flat! She asked if I had any more keys. Of course I didn't because I had (as is legally required) given her all the keys in my possession. I should have felt sorry for her, but it was too late for that. I'd had three days of her delays and excuses, and the stresses and strains had just done for me. I said how sorry I was, but that I was in a restaurant with friends, and I couldn't help. Which was purely and simply the truth. Goodbye to that Flat and all who sail in her!

So today has been weird. I'm so tired I haven't been able to accomplish much, but I did buy flowers for the Storage lady, who has been marvellous, kind and helpful, and for my lovely downstairs neighbour who has sportingly agreed to let Son's wardrobe sit in our Entrance Hall until his new Flat is ready. Apart from that, and posting some eBay stuff, I've done very little. My cosy bed beckons.

Just before I turn in, I must tell you that I have new readers from some pretty far-flung places - Anchorage in Alaska, Turku in Western Finland, Kerala in India Adelaide in South Australia and Santiago in Chile, (that's just the last couple of days!) and I'm delighted to welcome them. I have to say, though, that no-one could be more special than my regular Blogging Friends - thanks for all your support and lovely comments while I have been staggering through the above-mentioned shite. I really have appreciated every kind thought and word.

Hopping on the spot...

Still waiting. But the good news from our Buyer this morning is that the money should actually hit the spot between 2 and 4pm today. I'm completely immobilised waiting for this to happen now. Have been fiddling about all morning doing very little except answer the phone. Checking my emails did produce something from HorseMart (again!) - "Let's Go Shopping" - for horses?? and "Keeping your Equine costs down". Thank you, but my equine costs are already at zero. At least that's the total sum of my spam mail - it could be worse I suppose.

I'm supposed to be going out this evening, to a film and supper with friends. I hope I can raise the enthusiasm. I have spoken to both Son and Daughter to keep them up to date with the news, but of course they have so much else going on. Daughter is taking Grandson for an "interview" at a possible Primary School this afternoon. He has had a bath and is apparently very smart in his "ironed" shirt! And Son is busy doing music deals in London and organising the survey for his new flat purchase. Only I am feeling paralyzed by the waiting - and I'm sure that's my fault. I have to be the one to hand over the keys. Can't wait...

Can't believe I forgot to mention the Gershwins this morning - George and Ira. Ella sings Gershwin. Absolutely sublime.

What about the Spurs? I'm over the moon about last night's 5 - 1 victory over the Arsenal. And we're in the Cup Final. Glory, glory etc...

Passing the Time.

Opened one eye this morning to peer at my digital clock. Pitch black. 6am. I turned over thinking I'd fall asleep again, but no. Wide awake. I thought briefly of my Solicitor cycling bravely to work in the dark morning, and then of course all the other thoughts came crowding in, thick and fast. Matters legal, matters familial and every other thing that's been on my mind for the last week. In the end I was singing quietly to myself under the duvet just to pass the time ("They can't take that away from me" and "These foolish things" - I know the Ella Fitzgerald/Cole Porter/Rodgers & Hart song books off by heart: every word, phrase and breath, from when I were a girl.) I was also making plans for the day in my head. I waited until 7.45 to get up and get on with it though.

I have just read about the death of Heath Ledger at 28. How terribly sad. And what a great loss of a talented young man. Son is 28 - and there have been times when I was terribly worried about him. Young men are very vulnerable, perhaps because they often feel they have to hide their true emotions, and I can imagine that the world in which Heath Ledger existed was fabulous, fantastic and also very lonely at times. Poor boy.

I'm hoping for good news today. It's only just 9am, so I'm going for a walk to pass the time. By the way, does anyone know how to set the right time on a Blog clock? According to mine, I apparently write posts at the most unearthly hours when I'm tucked up in bed, if not actually asleep...