Here we are at another Bank Holiday - at least we were yesterday. And on Sunday it was Grandson's 6th Birthday. Where, I'd like to know, has the month of May gone, never mind the last year? I suppose it has gone the way of all time, all the years, months and days of my life. And too quickly.
I could give you a run down on what has happened during May, but somehow it doesn't seem worth it. I'd rather look forward than backwards. So it's Half Term for Grandson, and he and Daughter have gone away for the week. They are in Cambridge for a couple of days and then driving down to Devon with the new Boyfriend for a 60th Birthday celebration (his Father's, who is divorced, remarried and has one new baby and another on the way!). I can't even pretend to keep up. Anyway, they all seem happy enough, so what's the problem?
Son and his lovely Girlfriend came down for the weekend, to help with the Birthday Party and to just chill for a couple of days. They have both been frantically busy recently, with Son spending a week in New York on business, and the Girlfriend going to Vancouver to see her parents and trying to keep up with work at the same time. They certainly live at a fast pace and they both looked very tired when they arived. Two days, a Birthday party, and a Barbecue later, plus lots of sleep and relaxation, they both seemed a lot better. Son is off to Cannes in a couple of weeks, for the Advertising Film Festival, so that will probably be another wipe-out. His Girlfriend has decided not to go this year, wisely I think..
My garden is looking lovely now that we have had some rain - at last. Last week the pond was down by about 6 or 8 inches and the frogs were poking their heads out in desperation. I borrowed my lovely downstairs neighbour's outside tap - mine is still not fixed - attached my hose, and topped it up. Sure enough, next day it poured with rain all day! The plants were all at their last gasp, so it was a real blessing. And this year I have the best Oriental Poppies ever, with huge orange tissue-paper heads and very black centres. They are stunningly beautiful next to the tall green Euphorbias and my "Black Barlow" Aquilegia. Luckily I very rarely water my garden, so the roots go deep for their moisture, instead of sitting near the surface. It's strange, but I think the extreme temperatures of last winter, which killed so many plants, have somehow produced some wonderful flowers from those which survived.
Hail June - let's hope it will bring Summer weather for us all to enjoy. We haven't had any really warm weather yet, and we are very nearly half way through the year. My Brighton BF has gone off to Turkey for three weeks in search of the sun - let's hope she has found it. I miss her and our regular Cocktail outings, but we'll soon catch up. And I'm off to stay with my Aristocratic BF on Thursday for a few days. Sissinghurst Garden is lovely at this time of year, and it's just around the corner from where she lives. I'm just finishing up a bit of work (copywriting for the Estate Agents) before I go, and really looking forward to a break. I love the drive through the countryside at this time of year; the rhododendrons will be out, and there will still be cowslips and a few misty bluebells in the hedges. The Cow Parsley is at its best now too - an ugly name for such a beautiful flower - and blowing in the wind. I guess I'll feel a bit like Mr.Toad of Toad Hall, bowling along the country lanes, "Poop Poop!"
Tuesday, June 1, 2010
Sunday, May 2, 2010
May Day, May Day...
Another Bank Holiday and it's uncharacteristically quiet around here. Daughter and Grandson have gone to Cambridge (again) to stay with a "friend" for the weekend, and so I have the place to myself. It's been raining today so I've spent the day clearing up and cleaning indoors, while watching the rain outside with delight. Ahh, gasped the garden, and my pond positively gurgled with relief. I've watched the water level going down relentlessly (we had no rain at all during April), and have worried about the plants, the tadpoles and the frogs, but they seem to be OK. I uncovered the hiding place of one tiny little chap while I was cutting back the overgrown water plants - he was hiding in the roots of a particularly large plant - but he hopped away quite cheerfully. And the tadpoles continue to grow apace. I was just about to start watering the garden before today's rain, but discovered only yesterday that last Winter's big freeze has left me with two holes in the pipe to my outside tap which render it unusable. Dammit, I'll have to get it repaired or else trust to the heavens to water the plants. Hmm.
Yesterday was a beautiful day, and I wandered up to Kemp Town with one of my Brighton BFs. We passed the May Day "Childrens' Parade" on the way, as it meandered through the Lanes, with loud music and very excited children dressed in various costumes. I was reminded of the time Grandson wanted to join in, dressed in his Superman suit, and walked all the way, following the Parade, when he was only two! He's already providing me with memories and he's still only 5 (or nearly six as he constantly reminds me). Anyway, back to our walk in Kemp Town, where we bumped into Gay Friend who was beautifully dressed as always (bright pink jumper and matching scarf). I do wish he would cut his hair though, because it's a very long, greasy, greyish pontytail which he tucks into a hat (usually) and which sometimes escapes. If I'm really truthful, it makes me feel rather queasy - it's not attractive at all and I'm tempted to take a pair of scissors to it! That would probably be the end of our friendship though. After this encounter we spent a happy half hour in the Antiques Flea Market (where I bought a lovely retro 60s tray for £1) before sitting out in the sunshine to share a toasted ciabatta, a bottle of sparkling water and an almond bite. What a lovely morning it was.
Then yesterday evening I was invited to one of the Private Views that abounded because of the Artists' Open Houses which are a regular part of Brighton's Festival. It was very nice really - my downstairs neighbour's Artist friend is exhibiting with another artist across town - so there were lots of familiar faces, and some very tempting pictures. I may well go back and buy one of the limited edition prints of a stormy Brighton sea and beach; they were beautifully done and affordable as far as my budget goes - which is not very far. There was lovely food and wine too, and good conversation which mostly centred around babies because two of the friends present are pregnant.
Well, that's about it for catching up - though I haven't yet told you about my last trip to London to visit another BF, or my latest foray into copywriting. So much to do, so little time.
Yesterday was a beautiful day, and I wandered up to Kemp Town with one of my Brighton BFs. We passed the May Day "Childrens' Parade" on the way, as it meandered through the Lanes, with loud music and very excited children dressed in various costumes. I was reminded of the time Grandson wanted to join in, dressed in his Superman suit, and walked all the way, following the Parade, when he was only two! He's already providing me with memories and he's still only 5 (or nearly six as he constantly reminds me). Anyway, back to our walk in Kemp Town, where we bumped into Gay Friend who was beautifully dressed as always (bright pink jumper and matching scarf). I do wish he would cut his hair though, because it's a very long, greasy, greyish pontytail which he tucks into a hat (usually) and which sometimes escapes. If I'm really truthful, it makes me feel rather queasy - it's not attractive at all and I'm tempted to take a pair of scissors to it! That would probably be the end of our friendship though. After this encounter we spent a happy half hour in the Antiques Flea Market (where I bought a lovely retro 60s tray for £1) before sitting out in the sunshine to share a toasted ciabatta, a bottle of sparkling water and an almond bite. What a lovely morning it was.
Then yesterday evening I was invited to one of the Private Views that abounded because of the Artists' Open Houses which are a regular part of Brighton's Festival. It was very nice really - my downstairs neighbour's Artist friend is exhibiting with another artist across town - so there were lots of familiar faces, and some very tempting pictures. I may well go back and buy one of the limited edition prints of a stormy Brighton sea and beach; they were beautifully done and affordable as far as my budget goes - which is not very far. There was lovely food and wine too, and good conversation which mostly centred around babies because two of the friends present are pregnant.
Well, that's about it for catching up - though I haven't yet told you about my last trip to London to visit another BF, or my latest foray into copywriting. So much to do, so little time.
Monday, April 19, 2010
Keep on Running...
Yesterday was the first full Brighton Marathon, and it was a really wonderful event. The race actually went past my house (twice), so we had a great view of the proceedings, and also had the benefit of no traffic at all during the day. Grandson and I were up betimes, and swept and tidied the balcony so that we could put out the chairs, tables and cushions and see everything from our vantage point. It was a glorious day too - very fortunately - and our neighbours were setting up a party in their front garden next door. We put out flags, made breakfast, and waited for the runners to appear. The race started at 9am, and the first runner flew past our house at 10 minutes past 10! What an amazing performance. We were at the 25k mark, and I found it incredible that anyone could run so far, so fast! He looked very fit too. Anyway, soon enough the road was completely full of runners, joggers and walkers, all running for their own chosen Charity, and for the next three hours we watched, cheered and clapped them on their way. We had probably the best view possible and sat in comfort, with Buck's Fizz at hand, enjoying the spectacle and the sunshine. When it all moved on to the Seafront, we repaired downstairs to the party next door, and enjoyed a barbeque, a few drinks and some party games. Grandson had a fabulous time playing with the older girls, and it was quite hard to drag him away in the end.
Last Thursday I went up to London for the 50th Anniversary Celebration of CDP (Collett, Dickenson and Pearce), the famous Advertising Agency I was privileged enough to work at in the late 60s. It was a grand party, and I had found the perfect dress and shoes to wear, so I felt pretty good. There were lots of old faces, some recognizable and some not. Luckily though we were all wearing labels, so if you couldn't recognize a face, you could hopefully read a name. It led to some comical situations, but on the whole it was great fun, and I hope I can put some photos on for you to see. I was staying in London with Son and his girlfriend, which was lovely, so I got a taxi home at 11pm. They have a very comfy spare bed which I just fell into and slept very soundly. Next morning we all had boiled eggs and soldiers together in their sunny kitchen, before they went off to work, leaving me to shower and then potter off to meet Sister at Patisserie Valerie in Old Compton Street. Bliss. After some perfect coffee and a Croque Monsieur I headed home on the train, tired but very, very happy. Oh what a busy life I lead!
Last Thursday I went up to London for the 50th Anniversary Celebration of CDP (Collett, Dickenson and Pearce), the famous Advertising Agency I was privileged enough to work at in the late 60s. It was a grand party, and I had found the perfect dress and shoes to wear, so I felt pretty good. There were lots of old faces, some recognizable and some not. Luckily though we were all wearing labels, so if you couldn't recognize a face, you could hopefully read a name. It led to some comical situations, but on the whole it was great fun, and I hope I can put some photos on for you to see. I was staying in London with Son and his girlfriend, which was lovely, so I got a taxi home at 11pm. They have a very comfy spare bed which I just fell into and slept very soundly. Next morning we all had boiled eggs and soldiers together in their sunny kitchen, before they went off to work, leaving me to shower and then potter off to meet Sister at Patisserie Valerie in Old Compton Street. Bliss. After some perfect coffee and a Croque Monsieur I headed home on the train, tired but very, very happy. Oh what a busy life I lead!
Wednesday, April 7, 2010
Hearing Things..
No wind and a pale dawn sky as I walked along by the sea this morning. The only sound was the soft, insistent shush-shushing of waves breaking on the shingle - and of course the soft insistent ringing in my ears, which frequently accompanies me these days. No matter, it's just another of those sounds which I can block out most of the time, like the incessant cries of seagulls which used to wake me at 4 in the morning, or the chug-chugging of buses waiting at the traffic lights outside my front garden. Nowadays I seem to choose what I hear, like the birds singing while I'm gardening, and a couple of weeks ago it was the frogs croaking, very loudly, in my pond. They all turned up for the annual frogspawn-fest on the first day of Spring. There were at least 10 quite large frogs, not sure if they were in pairs, but there was an awful lot of frantic activity going on, which we watched in total fascination, and it has resulted in a pond full of frogspawn. Lovely.
I remember that as a child I used to lie in bed and listen to the train chugging (yes, it was a steam engine) along the single track "Pull and Push" railway which ran between Romford and Upminster, stopping at Emerson Park Halt along the way. To catch this train at Emerson Park we had to walk half a mile up Osborne Road, and as the road ran parallel with the railway line, we could guage the train times precisely, and knew when to break into a run so that we didn't miss the train. Going to Primary School also meant walking up the road, in the opposite direction, to cross the railway. There was a black cinder path which led up to the railway line, and a simple wooden stile to cross on either side of the line. Then we walked along a criss-cross of cinder paths and alleys to get to school. I can't imagine that those paths are still there today - it would be considered far too dangerous. But in those days we all did that walk and crossed the railway line at least twice a day. Of course a steam train was slower, much more visible and pretty noisy. And we knew that the train ran along more or less every half hour, so I guess we had the train timetable fixed at the back of our minds. In any case, I can't remember a single accident happening along that line in the 20 years we lived there!
We actually lived in Osborne Road and the line ran along the back end of our garden. The railway bank was a great place to go for having adventures, and Sister and I regularly climbed over the fence to explore. Most of the time, though, we just didn't hear the train - it was another of those sounds that disappeared into the background. But to this day I find the sound of a train comforting when I'm lying in bed. And, funnily enough, most of the houses I've lived in have had a railway line within (faint) earshot. In Cambridge we were backing onto the Botanical Gardens with the train station close behind, though not too close. And even here, in Hove, I can hear the train in the distance some nights or early mornings, when there are no other competing sounds. It's quite a way away, but I guess my ears are tuned to that particular comforting and familiar sound.
By the way, one thing I am listening to is Chris Evans in the morning (sometimes) on Radio 2. He has stopped shouting, and has made me laugh a couple of times. He's no Terry Wogan, but I need a bit of light-hearted banter and some music while I'm ironing. So I suppose I have capitulated - but anything is better than the non-stop bickering between the political parties that's currently wall-to-wall on Radio 4.
I remember that as a child I used to lie in bed and listen to the train chugging (yes, it was a steam engine) along the single track "Pull and Push" railway which ran between Romford and Upminster, stopping at Emerson Park Halt along the way. To catch this train at Emerson Park we had to walk half a mile up Osborne Road, and as the road ran parallel with the railway line, we could guage the train times precisely, and knew when to break into a run so that we didn't miss the train. Going to Primary School also meant walking up the road, in the opposite direction, to cross the railway. There was a black cinder path which led up to the railway line, and a simple wooden stile to cross on either side of the line. Then we walked along a criss-cross of cinder paths and alleys to get to school. I can't imagine that those paths are still there today - it would be considered far too dangerous. But in those days we all did that walk and crossed the railway line at least twice a day. Of course a steam train was slower, much more visible and pretty noisy. And we knew that the train ran along more or less every half hour, so I guess we had the train timetable fixed at the back of our minds. In any case, I can't remember a single accident happening along that line in the 20 years we lived there!
We actually lived in Osborne Road and the line ran along the back end of our garden. The railway bank was a great place to go for having adventures, and Sister and I regularly climbed over the fence to explore. Most of the time, though, we just didn't hear the train - it was another of those sounds that disappeared into the background. But to this day I find the sound of a train comforting when I'm lying in bed. And, funnily enough, most of the houses I've lived in have had a railway line within (faint) earshot. In Cambridge we were backing onto the Botanical Gardens with the train station close behind, though not too close. And even here, in Hove, I can hear the train in the distance some nights or early mornings, when there are no other competing sounds. It's quite a way away, but I guess my ears are tuned to that particular comforting and familiar sound.
By the way, one thing I am listening to is Chris Evans in the morning (sometimes) on Radio 2. He has stopped shouting, and has made me laugh a couple of times. He's no Terry Wogan, but I need a bit of light-hearted banter and some music while I'm ironing. So I suppose I have capitulated - but anything is better than the non-stop bickering between the political parties that's currently wall-to-wall on Radio 4.
Thursday, February 25, 2010
Family Fortunes...
Time for a new look at life, I think. Daughter and Grandson are still in residence and we're OK, but the best news is that Grandson has now started school. It's the small Private School (where Hon. Grandaughter goes to school too) which is lovely.
So far, so good. It remains to be seen how long Daughter will be able to afford this, but it is certainly the right thing at the moment. He's very lucky to be getting such loving care and attention, and so let's hope it will last. Perhaps I should set up one of those funds on the Internet which asks for help with Grandson's school fees? A bit cheeky maybe :-)
One step at a time. Tomorrow (Friday) is Daughter's last day at her current job in Leatherhead. This means that she is going in to work tomorrow and then out for drinks and a curry with her workmates. So she won't be home until Saturday morning - and this is further complicated by the fact that her car (the bright red convertible monster) is very sick indeed and needs big money spent on it to put it right. So she has to go to work etc on the train and won't have the car back until Monday or Tuesday. Which means that not only am I on extended babysitting, but I will also be doing all the school runs (and everything else involving transport) until then. Do I sound as if I'm whingeing? I think I do, and I probably am. All I want is a bit of freedom and a social life. It's not that I had a huge amount going on before all this happened two months ago, but at least I could choose what I did with my time. Oh, and did I mention that Daughter has gone out on a date this evening too? No? Maltesers are my comfort and my (fast-disappearing) companions. And before you say it,I know that I'll miss them terribly when they are no longer staying with me. Then I'll be whingeing about not seeing enough of them. There's no pleasing some people.
I have lots of stuff waiting in the wings though - a visit to Aristocratic BF in Sissinghurst, which will be blissful. A trip to London to have a bit of lunch with Son, and maybe do a couple of Galleries. And two London BFs who are asking me to go and stay when I can get away. My Student is here until 20th March, so I probably won't be doing all of that just yet. But it is great to have something to look forward to.
You will be proud of me when I tell you that I have been trying to listen to Chris Evans on Radio 2 in the mornings. Not that I'm doing too well. The most I have managed is half an hour so far - I wonder what Sir Terry Wogan is listening to?
So far, so good. It remains to be seen how long Daughter will be able to afford this, but it is certainly the right thing at the moment. He's very lucky to be getting such loving care and attention, and so let's hope it will last. Perhaps I should set up one of those funds on the Internet which asks for help with Grandson's school fees? A bit cheeky maybe :-)
One step at a time. Tomorrow (Friday) is Daughter's last day at her current job in Leatherhead. This means that she is going in to work tomorrow and then out for drinks and a curry with her workmates. So she won't be home until Saturday morning - and this is further complicated by the fact that her car (the bright red convertible monster) is very sick indeed and needs big money spent on it to put it right. So she has to go to work etc on the train and won't have the car back until Monday or Tuesday. Which means that not only am I on extended babysitting, but I will also be doing all the school runs (and everything else involving transport) until then. Do I sound as if I'm whingeing? I think I do, and I probably am. All I want is a bit of freedom and a social life. It's not that I had a huge amount going on before all this happened two months ago, but at least I could choose what I did with my time. Oh, and did I mention that Daughter has gone out on a date this evening too? No? Maltesers are my comfort and my (fast-disappearing) companions. And before you say it,I know that I'll miss them terribly when they are no longer staying with me. Then I'll be whingeing about not seeing enough of them. There's no pleasing some people.
I have lots of stuff waiting in the wings though - a visit to Aristocratic BF in Sissinghurst, which will be blissful. A trip to London to have a bit of lunch with Son, and maybe do a couple of Galleries. And two London BFs who are asking me to go and stay when I can get away. My Student is here until 20th March, so I probably won't be doing all of that just yet. But it is great to have something to look forward to.
You will be proud of me when I tell you that I have been trying to listen to Chris Evans on Radio 2 in the mornings. Not that I'm doing too well. The most I have managed is half an hour so far - I wonder what Sir Terry Wogan is listening to?
Thursday, February 11, 2010
Er, Happy Birthday Mum..
Today, February 11th, would have been my Mother's 100th Birthday! Fancy that. She was born in 1910 (of course) and had a life so different from mine that we could have been a couple of hundred years apart. She had to leave school at 14 (though she loved it) and go into service in a rather grand family in the country. She was allowed to go home once a year! And she had to send her wages home to her Mother. She had one afternoon a week off, started work every morning at five a.m. and was not allowed to speak to her employer. It sounds like the Dark Ages doesn't it?
My Mum was one of eight children and the family lived in Tottenham (we are all Spurs supporters). She had a lovely singing voice and whenever she was at home she went to church regularly and sang in the church choir. Of course she lived through two world wars too. She was only four at the start of WWI and 29 in 1939 as WW2 began, with me as a six-month-old baby. I can't imagine what that might have been like. She was very lucky in that none of her family died in either of the wars. My father had only one eye as the result of a childhood accident, so he didn't get to go to war. He was an Air Raid Warden instead. My only memory of that war is of standing on the back door step of our house in the pitch dark, yelling for someone to take me down to the air raid shelter. I was very small, and probably very frightened, though I don't think I was in any immediate danger - we only had one bomb drop locally in Hornchurch, and that left a very neat hole in the ground which was just the size of the house it demolished. I can't remember anything about casualties. But I do remember that we were only allowed 2 ounces of sweets a week - when I was older of course - and we had to queue up for them at the corner shop. Happy Days..
The other Anniversary today of course, is the 20th anniversary of Nelson Mandela's release from prison. What a great survivor he is, and what a wonderful example to us all in this gritty old world. He embodies the triumph of hope, truth and a fine trust in the goodness of humanity. He is, amazingly, 92. Let's hope he makes it to 100.
My Mum was one of eight children and the family lived in Tottenham (we are all Spurs supporters). She had a lovely singing voice and whenever she was at home she went to church regularly and sang in the church choir. Of course she lived through two world wars too. She was only four at the start of WWI and 29 in 1939 as WW2 began, with me as a six-month-old baby. I can't imagine what that might have been like. She was very lucky in that none of her family died in either of the wars. My father had only one eye as the result of a childhood accident, so he didn't get to go to war. He was an Air Raid Warden instead. My only memory of that war is of standing on the back door step of our house in the pitch dark, yelling for someone to take me down to the air raid shelter. I was very small, and probably very frightened, though I don't think I was in any immediate danger - we only had one bomb drop locally in Hornchurch, and that left a very neat hole in the ground which was just the size of the house it demolished. I can't remember anything about casualties. But I do remember that we were only allowed 2 ounces of sweets a week - when I was older of course - and we had to queue up for them at the corner shop. Happy Days..
The other Anniversary today of course, is the 20th anniversary of Nelson Mandela's release from prison. What a great survivor he is, and what a wonderful example to us all in this gritty old world. He embodies the triumph of hope, truth and a fine trust in the goodness of humanity. He is, amazingly, 92. Let's hope he makes it to 100.
Monday, February 8, 2010
Things are looking up..
At last, it seems, we have turned a corner and there is positive movement in Hove. It has been a bit of a muddy struggle up till now, but last week a couple of positive things happened. Perhaps it's Planetary Movements. First, we had a letter from the Education Authority, which in brief stated that there was no chance of Grandson getting a place at any of Daughter's stated preferences, offered him a place at a school miles away, and followed this with a not-very-veiled threat by saying that if she didn't accept said place, they would be wanting to know how he was being educated. Pish! The result was that, far from being intimidated, she decided that we would be pro-active and go and look at the school Hon.Grandaughter attends, which is a lovely, small private school in Rottingdean. We went for a look around on Thursday. I already know the school becaused of my connection with KT and Hon.G. I've been to concerts, Sports Days etc over the last few years, and know that it has a homely atmosphere, dedicated teaching staff, and wonderful facilities. Anyway, they promptly offered Grandson a "taster" day on Friday and he just loved it. Of course it costs money, but Daughter is prepared to cough up a bit to get him settled in a comfortable and encouraging educational environment. Fingers crossed that it all comes right.
On Friday evening I had a phone call from probably my oldest living friend! He and I met when I was at Romford County High (now that is going back a bit). He played in a small group: the Terry Graham Trio, which included my friend Terry as the drummer, the late, famous Graham Bond (before he was famous) on saxophone and their friend Colin on piano. It was a Sixth Form Dance and I hung around watching the band until I had an opportunity to talk to them. As a result, I ended up singing with them occasionally, at Weddings, Socials, Dances and the like, and we had such fun for a few years, before life became serious and we all went off in different directions. Then later Terry and I both worked in Advertising, as copywriters, though he was immeasurably more talented than I. We sometimes lost touch and sometimes found each other again. But we still have a friendship that is based on many happy memories of good times shared. The latest news is that we will both be going to the 50th Anniversary Celebration of CDP in April. (That's Collett, Dickenson, Pearce, which was without doubt the most creative and famous Advertising Agency of its time.) And Terry will be playing the drums again. Now that's really something to look forward to - though of course I haven't got a thing to wear.
Then it was my Birthday on Sunday. My old Blogging friends will know that I just love Birthdays - and on this occasion I wasn't disappointed. Two thirty a.m. and I was woken by Grandson, who was sleeping next to me, and wanted to be the first to wish me a happy Birthday. He sang it beautifully, and we had a cuddle and both went back to sleep. Later I had tea and biscuits in bed, courtesy of my lovely Daughter, and sat like a Princess opening cards and the most wonderful presents. One of my Brighton BFs came round with more cards and presents, and I felt thoroughly spoiled. Daughter had also made me a Birthday cake (chocolate sponge and soft chocolate icing!) and so we had a cake to take to London with us. Daughter did the driving, and we met up with Son and his Girlfriend to have a perfect Sunday Lunch in a cosy pub near the flat. Grandson was so excited to see his big Uncle, and we had a lot of laughs. There were more fabulous presents for me, including a small collection of exquisite sea shells from the beach at Koh Samui. And we had a blow by blow account of their holiday in Thailand, the Wedding, and Son's DJing at the Festival of Light in Bangkok. Phew. What a fantastic day it was - no wonder I feel better.
On Friday evening I had a phone call from probably my oldest living friend! He and I met when I was at Romford County High (now that is going back a bit). He played in a small group: the Terry Graham Trio, which included my friend Terry as the drummer, the late, famous Graham Bond (before he was famous) on saxophone and their friend Colin on piano. It was a Sixth Form Dance and I hung around watching the band until I had an opportunity to talk to them. As a result, I ended up singing with them occasionally, at Weddings, Socials, Dances and the like, and we had such fun for a few years, before life became serious and we all went off in different directions. Then later Terry and I both worked in Advertising, as copywriters, though he was immeasurably more talented than I. We sometimes lost touch and sometimes found each other again. But we still have a friendship that is based on many happy memories of good times shared. The latest news is that we will both be going to the 50th Anniversary Celebration of CDP in April. (That's Collett, Dickenson, Pearce, which was without doubt the most creative and famous Advertising Agency of its time.) And Terry will be playing the drums again. Now that's really something to look forward to - though of course I haven't got a thing to wear.
Then it was my Birthday on Sunday. My old Blogging friends will know that I just love Birthdays - and on this occasion I wasn't disappointed. Two thirty a.m. and I was woken by Grandson, who was sleeping next to me, and wanted to be the first to wish me a happy Birthday. He sang it beautifully, and we had a cuddle and both went back to sleep. Later I had tea and biscuits in bed, courtesy of my lovely Daughter, and sat like a Princess opening cards and the most wonderful presents. One of my Brighton BFs came round with more cards and presents, and I felt thoroughly spoiled. Daughter had also made me a Birthday cake (chocolate sponge and soft chocolate icing!) and so we had a cake to take to London with us. Daughter did the driving, and we met up with Son and his Girlfriend to have a perfect Sunday Lunch in a cosy pub near the flat. Grandson was so excited to see his big Uncle, and we had a lot of laughs. There were more fabulous presents for me, including a small collection of exquisite sea shells from the beach at Koh Samui. And we had a blow by blow account of their holiday in Thailand, the Wedding, and Son's DJing at the Festival of Light in Bangkok. Phew. What a fantastic day it was - no wonder I feel better.
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