Oh Lucky Me..

One of the great things about living by the sea is that you can never ignore the weather. I suppose it's the same living close to nature anywhere: in the mountains, beside a river or in the middle of a forest. Anyway, today I walked again by the sea and it was a totally different experience from yesterday. There was not a breath of wind, and the sea was positively pearly. It had a flat sheen, with tiny ripples for waves, and there were occasional sparkles dotted over the pearly water when the sun peeped through the pale silvery clouds. On the horizon there was a dusting of gold light where the sun shone through. It was incredibly beautiful, very calm and clear. When I turned for home, facing west, the sea and sky dissolved into one misty pale blue vista - it was really hard to see where sky ended and sea began. No wonder I walk along singing to myself, even without my iPod, it's always a truly uplifting experience.

Grandson is coming to sleep over with me tonight. I'm not much for New Year celebrations, and will be perfectly happy to watch "Matilda" (again) and have a cuddle with my little darling. I may just take a glass of something later, but nothing excessive. Gay Friend may be calling in for a cup of tea before that, so it will be a cosy afternoon and evening.

Son phoned this morning to say that he and the Girlfriend were on their way to Edinburgh, by train (with some other friends). They have arranged to stay in a friend's flat there and to celebrate Hogmanay in true Scottish style. Not quite sure what that means, but I can imagine it will involve lots of alcohol. I do worry about his liver!

Sister will be arriving early tomorrow morning for our Christmas/New Year get-together. I'm sure to be awake early if Grandson is here, so that will be fine. We can all have breakfast together and then maybe go for a walk if the weather invites us out.

I have heard from my Portuguese client that they are completely happy with the copy I wrote for them before Christmas - this is a first that there are absolutely no revisions. Great news though. He has invited me to send my invoice, so I will!!
And a Happy Hew Year to you All.

When I go out, the sun goes in..

This morning was glorious again, bright blue sky and no wind, so I decided to do my fast walking early to catch the sun. Sadly, as soon as I got down to the sea, a bank of clouds started to cover the sky. They weren't threatening, but just grey. The sea started out flat and smooth, but by the time I turned for home, it had turned too. I could see the waves picking up, little by little, creeping over the sand and small stones up towards the bank of pebbles that builds up by the promenade. At this time of year, when we have some very high tides, there is always a sprinkling of stones which are thrown over onto the promenade by the waves. I guess that they are swept back onto the beach by the guys who come along every day to collect rubbish and general debris from the beach and promenade. It's a surprisingly tidy place, Hove, actually...

Later, the clouds disappeared and it was a bright blue day again, but as I was invited for lunch downstairs, I couldn't get out in it. My new downstairs neighbour had cooked an organic chicken with gorgeous roast potatoes, and had invited another friend from across the road. It was a nice, cosy lunch, accompanied by pink bubbly, and topped off with a sticky chocolate Nigella dessert and some rum truffles. Rich!
And too dericious. Ah well, the diet will have to start after the New Year.

I bought a Sunday Times on the way back from my walk, and read it over a cup of coffee. Two contrasting stories caught my eye: the terrible fate of the little boy, Archie Lee, who was savagely killed by the family rottweiler in Wakefield, which made me feel physically sick with horror. I can't imagine the awfulness of that accident - and the enduring guilt which will follow those poor people all their lives. Poor little darling, he didn't have a chance. And then I read about the 12 year-old Californian girl who survived a plane crash in Patagonia. She was found, hanging upside down in the wreckage, two days after the plane came down. How amazing that she was not killed. And how her family must have felt - first terrified and then euphoric. How do we make any sense of this? Little Archie died, young Frankie lived. It's a mad, mad world.

Listening to Radio 4 this morning, I heard the best of "I'm sorry I haven't a Clue" which had some absolute gems. One of the best was on alternative dictionary definitions, for example: Definite - street slang for hard of hearing; Onomatopoeia - the first signs of a weak bladder.

This evening I half watched a programme on J.K.Rowling, whom I greatly admire. I know she was a hard-up single parent when she started writing the Harry Potter books, and used to go to her local cafe and sit writing in her notebook, making one cup of coffee last, to save on her heating at home. The interviewer took her back to the flat where she was living with her daughter when she wrote that first book, and it was very emotional. No-one could have doubted how hard that was, and how much she was affected. She and I were both in tears. She may be incredibly rich now, but how richly she deserves every penny!

Christmas Past..

Everyone I have spoken to today has been tired - all my friends seem to have poured all their energies into family Christmases, and are now feeling wiped out. I actually sat and sorted out a few bills, checked my credit card receipts (ouch) and tidied up more paper. We have created more paper and packaging rubbish this Christmas than I have seen in a long time; it can't be good for the planet. Our bins are overflowing and I'm planning a trip to the tip in the morning, because our binmen (sorry waste operatives) don't collect again until Monday. I'm also trying to find places for my many presents. I just don't want to add to the stuff in my house, so will have to prune some items. I have to find room for a new, white teddy bear with "Best Mum" embroidered on one foot, a pair of pink spotted (and reversible) slippers which I don't think I'll ever wear, various boxes of chocolates which I'm trying to ignore, gardening sundries, and some very pretty padded, scented hangers. Obviously some of these things are more useful than others. This year I had no soap (I must be looking cleaner), no perfume (must be smelling OK) and no candles (not so dim?). Anyway, my favourite things are my radio, my music and my books - everyone knows I love getting books - and my handbag from Daughter, a lovely white, shapely mug with "M" on it in curly black script, and a gorgeous picture frame from the White Company (chosen and given by my lovely Aristocratic BF). Sorry about the list, but I feel I shouldn't leave anyone out!

Actually, one of the nicest things I received for Christmas was a splendid bouquet from the mother of Grandson's real father. She was utterly mortified when her Son dumped my Daughter with a four-month-old baby, and has since tried to keep in touch with Daughter and to give support and help when she can. She is rather unwell, and so I was very touched when she sent some money to Daughter, asking her to buy me flowers. I understand why she has done it - she would love to be able to see her Grandson and be involved in his life, just to do what I do, but it isn't going to happen. They live up North, and her Son is unlikely to ever change his spots. It's sad for her, but Daughter sends photos and keeps her informed of Grandson's progress. I guess it's the best we can do under the circumstances.

I ventured out this afternoon for a breath of air and to pay my gas and electricity bills (I know I can do this on the phone or on-line, but I do have to get out). It wasn't seaside walking weather, being very blustery and cold. Every time I crossed the road I glanced towards the sea, and it looked very dark and grey, ruffled with white-topped waves. This evening it's raining and very windy, but I'm hoping for a bright morning tomorrow - Daughter and Grandson will be around (thankfully the Boyfriend won't) and we might get down to the beach for a bit of exercise. I'm still hoping that Sister and her Son will find the time to visit this weekend, though I do know that after the festivities everyone needs a bit of quiet time to get over all the sound and fury.

I can hear the wind rising and rattling at my windows, it's time for a festive cup of hot water and a snuggle up in bed with a good book...

I wish I were in love again..

Today it turned into perhaps a more typical family Christmas when we had a bit of a row going on. Daughter came over with Grandson, the Boyfriend and the Boyfriend's daughter. The idea was that they should open the presents they didn't get around to on Christmas day, but it wasn't that simple! As soon as Grandson's drawing easel was unwrapped, the Boyfriend started drawing, not leaving a minute for the children to join in. He is very good at drawing, so I suggested to Daughter that he might leave the children to be creative, rather than showing them how good he was!! This did not go down well, and resulted in a full-blown row, with the Boyfriend taking our comments as criticism, and being very rude in the process. I wasn't happy, Daughter wasn't happy, and it ended up with the Boyfriend leaving. Just great! (Actually, if I'm really honest, I was very glad he left - I had had enough of his conviction that he knows best in every area of life, and of his rudeness.) Anyway, it left Daughter and me with the two children, which was fine, but somehow I know that it will all end up as my fault...

Son and his girlfriend turned up just after this, this afternoon, having spent hours in traffic driving back down from London. I quickly dropped Daughter and the children home, and came back to make supper. It is really lovely to see Son so happy. His new, gorgeous girlfriend seems just perfect (so far) and they laugh and cuddle a lot. I wish I were in love again, in the words of Ella Fitzgerald. Until I see it, I forget how wonderful it is to be in love. Anyway, I'm so pleased for Son, it's about time he had some good luck in relationships. Long may it last.

I read with complete disbelief and sadness that Benazhir Bhutto has been assassinated today. How awful that her comeback to Pakistan should end in this way. I suppose I shouldn't be surprised, but so many hopes were riding on her return to political life, and I couldn't help hoping that some good might prevail in a dark world. Her enemies will cheer, and think that they have won. But merely ending the physical life of someone who represents the hopes of a nation will not succeed. I do believe that there is a cosmic (or is it karmic?) justice that will prevail. They'll go to hell for that!

I have eaten far too much, and drunk too much too. It will take a couple of weeks of determined discipline and exercise to shift the extra pounds. Ah well, I can't really say that I regret it. Mostly it was all delicious - or should I say dericious.
This needs explaining: some time last year, I had a student from North Korea, who came to me at very short notice from one of the Language Schools. She spoke very little english, but was very pleasant and polite. I only had her for a couple of weeks, and when she had been here for about 5 days, another Student arrived, from Spain. On the first evening that both Students were here, I cooked a roast chicken for supper, with all the trimmings. As we were eating, I noticed that the Korean student was pushing her chicken around the plate, so I asked if she didn't like chicken? "Ah no" she said "I am regetarian." I felt awful, and offered to remove the offending chicken, roasted potatoes and parsnips from her plate, as they had (obviously) been cooked in the chicken fat in the roasting pan. "Oh No!" she said, with emphasis "Is dericious!" Well, of course they were delicious, but hardly regetarian. In fact, she had been eating all the food I cooked, which was decidedly not vegetarian, over the previous five days. No-one had told me that she didn't eat meat. Now, among my friends who know the story, anything we particularly enjoy eating is naturally "dericious".

I'm so enjoying my new radio, and the Jazz station. It's music I love, takes me back to my youth, and I can sing along to it all day. As Terry Wogan is now on holiday for two weeks, it will keep me company in his absence...

Musical Chairs and Musical Beds..

"The best laid schemes of mice and men gang aft agley".. that's for sure. Our Christmas was great, but not quite what had been planned. Son didn't come to stay on Sunday after all; he came by train, with his girlfriend - to borrow the car - and drove back to London with her, so that he could wrap presents and bring his stuff back the next day. I hadn't met this girlfriend before, though had heard about her, and I must say she was as lovely as I had been led to believe. We only saw each other for about 15 minutes, so quite hard to judge, but she was both beautiful and gentle. A great combination.

Anyway, that left me with more time to myself for present wrapping and general preparation. Son arrived back on Christmas Eve morning, alone, and then collected his work friend from the station later. She is called Dhia (not sure about the spelling), a born and bred Australian but from an Asian family. Quite a mixture, but very nice and very easy to get on with. The other couple (two Americans from Texas - not Canadians as I had thought!) didn't get here at all on Christmas Eve. They were apparently too late arriving back from Stockholm, and managed to get a last-minute room at the Inn (the De Vere Grand, actually), because they didn't want to disturb us. In fact after we had eaten, we went to see my Brighton BF and husband for a drink (more drink!!) and to exchange Christmas presents. By the time we got back, downed more Champagne and finished wrapping presies, they could have turned up at 1am and it wouldn't have mattered.

Christmas morning is already a bit of a blur - I was giddy with food preparation: peeling and counting and par-boiling potatoes and parsnips, making stuffing with sausagemeat and creamed marrons (which was just wonderful), stuffing the big bird and getting the whole lot into my two ovens. Daughter was a great help, and got out the Christmas china and silver, laid the table and did the candles, glasses and crackers. The table did look utterly lovely, and we managed to do everything on time. The expected couple didn't turn up until 3pm precisely - just as the food was ready! They came bearing very good champagne and other treats, and we sat down and got on with it in true festive style. Thankfully, everything was hot, cooked, ready and tasted fine. Of course, we didn't get to eat the pudding - by then no-one could stuff another morsel down.

After lunch we opened presents and relaxed - though with eight people it was a bit musical chairs. Son and his friends made cocktails and also drank bourbon and yet more champagne. All too much for me, though Daughter and the Boyfriend joined in too. Grandson didn't, of course, but he was having a fine time playing with his presents and with all the new people. He is very gregarious, and is never phased by new faces. At one point he stood and sang "Twinkle, twinkle little Star" all through, word and note perfect, and got a rousing round of applause. Well deserved!
By this time I was so tired that I sat down and practically fell asleep watching Doctor Who. So I went upstairs for a nap, and felt much better for it. All in all it was a fairly normal Christmas Day, I suppose. How lucky we are to have all our family and friends around us. We carried on with the festivities until about midnight - the young ones playing poker and finishing off the champagne (and anything else that was left). I had some lovely presents: a digital radio from Son (so now I can listen to Jazz, and get instant tuning for my favourite stations), plus a gorgeous book and some John Rutter Carols; a handbag from Daughter, and a book about Audrey Hepburn. Lots of other things too - what a lucky lady.

In the end, we didn't need all the extra bedding from ABF, typical! Son had the double room to himself, and Dhia had the single, which worked out fine. More visitors are expected, unexpectedly, because Son has borrowed the car to go and get his girlfriend, and Son's Best Friend is also possibly coming tomorrow. My Sister may also be coming at the week-end, with her Son, so it could be musical beds next..

Christmas Stocking Up!

I'm pretty pooped. The last few days have been frantic, and it's still not over. I set off on Friday to drive to Kent for a visit with my Aristocratic BF, which I was really looking forward to. The sun was shining in a clear blue sky when I left Hove, but as soon as I was over the Downs, freezing fog came down. It was suddenly dark and creepy, and very cold indeed. The drive took over two hours (it's normally an hour and a quarter) and I arrived, thankfully, just as the sun was setting, before it got dark. Aristocratic BF had invited several neighbours for supper, which was fine. We had champagne and smoked salmon to start with, and then a pheasant casserole with some very strong red wine. The conversation was all country stuff, which I used to be able to join in, but now I feel rather more of a townie. Also, the two couples were what I would call "comfortable" - not exactly smug, but pretty close. They talked about their houses and their investments and their pensions. I didn't feel that I had much to contribute, as I'm semi-retired and not very well off. And I certainly don't have investments or property to compare. After a while, I couldn't stop fidgeting, so I retreated to the kitchen and did the clearing up. It was one way of staying awake! Anyway, I drove back home the next day loaded down with goodies and presents, and with plenty of bedding loaned by ABF for my impending visitors.

This morning Daughter and I made another foray to Sainsbury's for yet more shopping.
I don't know quite why we seem to need so much, but even now we haven't finished. Son came down to borrow the car, stopping for five minutes, and has driven back to London to collect all his stuff and wrap presents. He will be back tomorrow, and his friends will also be arriving sometime tomorrow. The house is clean as a whistle, everything a-sparkle, lovely fresh beds and towels etc. I do hope it will be up to expectations. I've planned the food: a baked gammon for tomorrow evening (we're following Nigella's recipe), with sweet potato and parsnip mash and steamed veg, and a tarte au citron to follow. Christmas Day will be the usual turkey-lurkey with home-made stuffing, little sausage and bacon rolls, roast potatoes and parsnips, sprouts and carrots. (I have bought some of those gorgeous growing sprouts on a stick.) I have also bought a new and rather smart football (Tottenham Hotspur colours)- and there's a method in my madness. My plan is that all the lads can take Grandson down to the Lawns for a game of footie on Christmas morning, after a late breakfast (weather permitting of course), which will leave Daughter and I to get on in the kitchen. Then they can all come back refreshed, just in time to open the wine, lay the table and make themselves generally useful. We don't usually sit down to Christmas Dinner until about 3pm, so that will hopefully work out.

I have just about finished wrapping presents. This is a first; normally I don't start until Christmas Eve, and I'm usually still sitting behind the sofa (so that no-one can see what I'm doing), watching "It's a Wonderful Life" with one eye, until about 1 am on Christmas morning. This year will be different. We will have Son's friends staying, none of whom I know, but I'm quite looking forward to that. I'm listening to Christmas Carols, humming along cheerfully, and just about ready for bed. I must try and fit in "It's a Wonderful Life" tomorrow. I always shed a tear at the end, but Christmas wouldn't be Christmas without it.

Christmas Shopping.

Oops! I think George Bush might be on to me, because my latest reader is from Washington,D.C! Thankfully I didn't say anything too awful about him - in fact I complimented his nice manners, so perhaps I won't have his spies on my doorstep just yet. It just shows you need to be careful what you write in such a global medium. (OK, I know there are millions of people in Washington who aren't George Bush, but you never know.)

Daughter was utterly wonderful this morning, when she came and sorted out my Blog for me. Anyone can now see my list of favourite Blogs, and my Award, of which I am extremely proud. Plus we also put on a photo of the lovely sunset I raved about a
couple of weeks ago, which was taken by my old Advertising BF. He is now a photographer as well as an Art Director (multi-talented), and just happened to capture that particular one. We had both seen it and been completely blown away, and he happened to have his camera handy. What good luck.

My cold is receding fast, which is another piece of good luck. I wonder if it is anything to do with my 'flu jab, or just my positive good health generally. Anyway, it's great that I feel so much better today, and can rejoin the throng of happy shoppers. Every time I go out, I think of something else I am going to need. And as Son's three friends are definitely going to be staying here from Christmas Eve, I'll probably need industrial quantities of eggs, bacon, beans, croissants, orange juice, smoothies etc etc... That's beside two turkeys, a ham, chipolatas, stuffing, bread sauce, potatoes, parsnips, sausage rolls, smoked salmon, prawns...crackers, party poppers, candles, Christmas pudding, brandy cream.. oh and alcohol.. and we'll be making mince pies, brandy butter, stuffing... Not that Christmas is all about food, I'll be hoping to go to the Carol Service in our local church on Christmas Eve, too. Oh, and bread, milk, Christmas cake...