Bobbing up and down like this..

I started the day with a walk by the sea, just to get myself going. It was rather grey and overcast, and the sea was calm. Out on the horizon was a flotilla of little grey sails, maybe a Sunday yachting race. Just an ordinary day, except that there were so many runners and joggers along the sea-front it looked as though the promenade was jogging too. Everywhere I looked there were people bobbing up and down, it was most unsettling, and by the time I turned for home I felt quite sea-sick!

After my shower and breakfast, I had to get cooking because I had invited my downstairs neighbour and her friend for lunch. I made roast lamb, roast potatoes and parsnips and sweet potato, onions and carrots (also roasted) and some sugar snap peas. Plus a strawberry and blueberry meringue for dessert. And then some cheese. It was all 'dericious' and we had a very jolly time; they brought a bottle of Prosecco, which was dispatched very quickly, and we also managed a bottle of Merlot. Funnily enough, while I was cooking, Daughter phoned to ask for some help because she was cooking her first roast chicken Sunday lunch. I was astonished, because I had assumed that she would have done that before (especially since she had been living in the flat for three years!). But no. I passed on a few tips about par-boiling and roasting potatoes, and how to make stuffing (without a packet), and apparently it was a great success.

Later I half-listened to the radio commentary on the Spurs - Chelsea Carling Cup Final. It would have been terribly impolite to turn it up too loud, so I kept on bobbing up and down to keep tabs on the score. We won 2 - 1, after extra time, so it was very exciting.

Still no joy with my mobile phone, which is now too irritating for words. I have been sent a new sim card, but this hasn't cured what ails it. I think I'll chuck it in the bin and buy a new one. Oh no, another thing to add to my Shopping List...

Jet Setters..

Well, my Aristocratic BF has flown off to Mauritius for two weeks, and my Brighton BFs have gone to Barbados for a week. Oh, to be simply lying in the warm sun and having an occasional dip into the pool, or the sea. As it is, the day is grey here and the best I can do is tootle off to The Treatment Rooms for a bit of pampering...

But I have a list of to-do's: buy a new television, buy a new car, sort out my chest of drawers (a new Ikea one is on the cards), sell the old sofa and buy a new one, get the two armchairs re-covered... can't seem to get motivated, and hate doing all these things on my own, that's a fact.

God Bless, Gazza.

I turned on the TV this evening, to see Hunter Davies chatting to Richard and Judy about Gazza and his present predicament. I missed most of the discussion, but gathered that Hunter Davies has a lot of time for him (he "ghost" wrote, or co-wrote, Gazza's Autobiography). So do Richard and Judy (they are texting-friends, apparently). So do I. I remember him as a genius young player for the Spurs - what a partnership he and Gary Lineker made! He has had a difficult life though - he came from a very ordinary background with a completely extra-ordinary talent, and was obviously unable to cope with the pressures of fame and fortune. There has been a coming together of support for him in the last couple of days, which I think is great. The Footballing Fraternity is keen to help and support him in his hour of need. Hunter Davies said that he doesn't cope well without structure and discipline, and that he is very lonely. Richard and Judy sent their love. And Judy said "God Bless". I'm there with the good wishes too.

Earlier today I freaked out again when I logged on to Facebook to see how friends and family were doing. With hindsight, it was very silly of me, but I have been on the edge with regard to Son and his lack of communication lately. There, on his page, was a picture of Kurt Cobain, whom Son idolized from an early age, and who of course, killed himself. Even as I type this, I can see how wrong it is. I very soon snapped out of it - after a sensible and reassuring conversation with Daughter, who was able to step back and take a reasonable point of view - but it's yet another reason why I have to get out more. Literally. I can't go on like this.

This morning over breakfast my Foreign Student took me back probably 50 years when we were talking about gardens. He said that he and his Father have a rather wild garden, just outside Zurich, in which they grow dandelions so that they can pick and eat the leaves in salads. He went on to say that they leave the grasses and flowers to grow tall, and then cut them down with scythes! (They dry the hay and give it to his Sister to feed her rabbit!) I was completely gobsmacked. This is apparently the norm in Switzerland, where there are rocks and stones everywhere, and very few level areas of grass. It brought a vivid memory of watching my Grandfather, whom we called Uncle Gus, moving across the Village Green with the other men in the village, cutting the grass with their scythes. It was a marvellous sight, which I can see quite clearly in my mind, but which you just wouldn't see any more. Unless, of course, you took a trip to Switzerland. I might just do that!

Money, Money, Money...

Three things impinged on my consciousness today, three things about Money, with a capital M. First, on Radio 4 this morning, news that MEPs are abusing their positions and taking money for nothing: apparently they have a (wait for it) £130,000 staffing allowance, per year, and some of them are pocketing this money and not employing anyone!! How can this be? Corruption. Next came a discussion on the fact that Supermarkets are selling strong lager at 22p a can (Tesco's), mostly to underage drinkers, and that's actually cheaper than a bottle of water (not that underage drinkers would want a bottle of water, unless it's to wash down a few Es!). The discussion was about how tricky it would be for them to put up the price to stop these young people buying cheap alcohol. Of course, they could do that, but the unspoken point was, if they did that, then the sales would simply go to another supermarket! Corruption. Finally, the announcement that British Gas profits went up by 500% this year! They made a profit of £596 million!! (Oops, only £96 million last year.) While we, the consumers, were paying hugely inflated prices for our energy, just to keep warm. Corruption. How can any of the above be justified in any caring society? Or, forgive me, am I being naive? Greed, pure greed, is what seems to motivate those in any position of power. And a complete lack of any sense of responsibility to anyone (except possibly their Shareholders). Government, Big Companies, Ex-Utilities - they're all out for the largest possible slice of the cake. It seems to me that we don't have a sick Economy, only a sick Society. There are plenty of people out there making fortunes on the back of the "dodgy" Economy. We, you and me, the people who live and die and work and pay (and, incidentally, vote), we get the crumbs and we pay through the nose for those. It makes me want to spit at the lot of them...

Actually, after that, I had a lovely day. I drove over to Dorking to see Daughter and Grandson (stopping on the way to pay £1.08 per litre for my diesel)and arrived to see Grandson riding around on his bike with two little friends. Then we went into Dorking for some lunch and a potter around the shops. My new haircut was very much admired, and I did feel better. But I look at my Daughter, and I look at Grandson, and I wonder how on earth they will survive in this greedy, grasping society. It's no wonder people get left behind, drop out, or get tripped up in the Rat Race. Who wants to be a rat, anyway?

I think I'll call it a day. Hopefully, the world will look a better place tomorrow.

Looking better, Mother..

Here I am again, feeling rather proud of myself because I've managed to put two new ink cartridges into my printer - successfully. And that's good for me. I tend to put these things off because I'm sure I'll get them wrong. And if that sounds too ridiculous, I can tell you that the colour cartridge hadn't been working at all since before Christmas. Anyway, I've got it right now, and we're printing perfectly!

Strange day today, weatherwise, because at last we have had the mist that has been covering the country for the last few days. It was sunny here in my garden, two blocks back from the beach, but looking down I could see a shimmering, translucent wall hiding the sea. It was rather beautiful, because it wasn't at all solid, but you could hear the cries of the seagulls echoing off it. And the sea was quite silent. Later, though, the chill seeped through and it became very grey. The sun hung like a smoky chinese lantern in the mist. Time to go home and get cosy.

I went bravely in search of a new hairdresser this morning. I've grown tired of the local Trevor Sorbie (sorry Trevor) because they have made one mistake too many, and I have been waiting 2 months for my hair to grow out enough to put it right. I was motivated by my Brighton BF telling me yesterday that I looked awful ("drained" was the word she used), quite rightly, and so decided I had to do something about it. I was very pleased with the result (a good cut and highlights), and so was my lovely BBF who said it had surgically removed 10 years, just like that. Feeling drained and depleted, as I have been, is all very well, but in the end you need to do something about it. At my age I can't afford to droop. I'm going to see my lovely Daughter and Grandson tomorrow, and on Friday I'm booking a facial and a massage at the Treatment Rooms (the best in Town). That will be several steps in the right direction...

Just blew in from the Windy City..

My latest reader is from Wellington, New Zealand, which I am reliably informed is called the Windy City because it is always, well, windy. And I guess if you look at it on the map, you can see why. There it sits, on the very edge of a tiny dot in the ocean, facing all comers. My ex-husband, who now lives in New Zealand (Auckland) was the one who told me about this, via the children. When Daughter went on one of her visits, they took a trip to Wellington, flying down for a wedding or some such thing, I think. Anyway, my children are much more travelled than I am, but I do have a clear picture of the Windy City in my head, and I do welcome my (one) reader with open arms!

I'm beginning to actually look forward to going to France now. I've been a long time extricating myself from the sticky cobwebs of the past few years. And one of my Brighton BFs said yesterday that, actually, I haven't had a great time since I moved here. I suppose that's true, because I've been closely involved with both children and their "growing pains", and with helping them to deal with whatever has come up. Now, it seems, is a natural parting of the ways: Daughter and Grandson are happily nesting with the Boyfriend and Son is buying his flat in London, with a friend, so they will both be several steps further away. I'm not withdrawing anything in the way of love and support, but I just won't be around the corner in future. I'm sure that's both healthy and good - for all of us. I've been through a lot of anxiety and stress lately and it shows - I need to focus on my life now and move towards what I want. Why does that sound selfish to me? Because I've always focussed on them, I suppose. Time to move on...

My Student's first day at "work" was apparently most successful. I say "work", because he is actually doing work experience in a local Brighton company for which he is not being paid, but for which his father has paid handsomely. I asked him about the tea making, and he said that they had made tea for him. It became clear, though, that the other people in the office took turns to make tea, or coffee, for everyone else. This had not occurred to him. Had he washed up his cup? This, also, had not occurred to him. When I suggested to him that he should take his turn, he looked surprised. I had to explain that these people are not his servants. But I think he will make the effort in future. We went on to talk about his school in Zurich, for which his father also paid a fortune. He volunteered the information that it had cost £60,000 per year!!! I was shocked, and it showed. We talked some more about what people generally earn, and pay tax and live on here. I explained to him that that £60,000 per year could probably support two, if not three families. I don't know what the average earnings are in Britain, but I'm sure they're not £60,000per year, and speaking personally, I could make that £60,000 go a very long way. Well, my Student is only 21, with a lot to learn about the world - but I'm damn sure he isn't going to learn it while his Father puts his hand in his pocket for every little thing. Both my children went out and got part time jobs when they were just 16 and they did it not only to supplement the small allowance I gave them, but to step out into the world. I'm proud that they did that, and that they both took those steps towards independence with real enthusiasm. They are both workers, and both appreciate what their own endeavours can bring them. I always thought, rather wistfully, that I would like to have been able to give them more - but maybe it was better that I couldn't. I'm looking at Son's Christmas card to me, which is propped up by my computer, it says "Dearest Mum, thanks for everything this year and this Christmas. Roll on the South of France! All my love xxx." I think that says it all.

Just get on with it...

No Sir Terry this morning, as he is on two weeks holiday!! So inconsiderate of him when I rely on his cheeriness in the mornings. We had a frost last night, which is quite rare - though I realized how just cold it was when Gay Friend didn't turn up for his usual fix of period drama ("Lark Rise to Candleford") and some chocolate.

Anyway, I walked in the sun this morning, because I knew I would be busy later. It was so gloriously sunny and already warm at 9.30! The sea is never quite still, but this morning it was very calm and blue; the waves made their insistent "shush" as they folded themselves rhythmically onto the shingle, and there was a dancing path of jewelled sparkles beneath the sun. As I looked towards the Palace Pier, all the rides and "amusements" were silhouetted against the blue, looking like something from a space-fiction movie. And when I turned for home, the misty blue sea and sky merged into a soft watercolour wash. Very beautiful and uplifting.

I'm back indoors now, and getting ready to work. Writing this post is my first bit of displacement activity. Next it's a shower and some toast and coffee. Of course, the words I will need are already forming in my head, and will go down on paper as smoothly as cream into coffee. It's the usual routine. See you later...