Mornings in late September are inclined to make me sleep in and wake as though life is not so special as it is when the sunshine is filling the bedroom with promise and warmth.
That was how I felt recently and with guilt that I had slept so long due to lack of sun and the threat of rain.
Kettle on and the post arrived, nice to receive mail but did I really want a letter telling me to act now to secure my funeral costs were covered!
Goodness me I found myself becoming more depressed by the minute, then a text arrived from my grand-daughter requesting my full address and all I could think was that perhaps tomorrow I would receive a delightful letter or a beautiful card made by her to cheer me up when I felt so down with the approach of shorter days and colder weather.
What a difference a day makes the sun is shining, the postman has been and there on the mat a pink envelope addressed to 'Nanny'. On opening, a card, not hand made but inside decorated with the sweetest decoupage cut outs of teddy bears and a note saying this will brighten my day, love you lots.
How did she know that I needed this so much, today of all days?
Friday, 30 September 2011
Monday, 12 September 2011
Waiting for that envelope to arrive.
Almost one year ago I decided to enrole on a creative writing course and was filled with enthusiasum. First items I produced gave me confidence and my head seemed full of ideas, however when it came to actually sending articles to my tutor for marking I became very apprehensive, did I want someone else to see my ramblings, would they be seen as something I did not want to know-that I had no chance of ever having anything publishhed.
Actually finding the courage to physically post the large brown envelope through the pillar box took two attempts, first time I drove home with it still in the car, on purpose but making excuses to myself as to why I would do it later.
Then when I did pluck up courage, came the long wait for the return of my marked work,which took about three weeks.
I needed a coffee before I opened the envelope and read the contents, wow I thought, sounds like I might one day make it in some small way.
I had never thought of payment for any kind of writing whilst doing the course but I am being encouraged to submit articles for certain types of magazines.
Actually finding the courage to physically post the large brown envelope through the pillar box took two attempts, first time I drove home with it still in the car, on purpose but making excuses to myself as to why I would do it later.
Then when I did pluck up courage, came the long wait for the return of my marked work,which took about three weeks.
I needed a coffee before I opened the envelope and read the contents, wow I thought, sounds like I might one day make it in some small way.
I had never thought of payment for any kind of writing whilst doing the course but I am being encouraged to submit articles for certain types of magazines.
So far a letter in the local paper that specified 300 words plus the editor had the right to alter, if it was considered unsuitable, was however printed-500 words and just how I had presented it.
It was a tribute to a special charity worker in the community who had died and it would have been wrong to shorten this accolade of his generosity to many local groups throughout his life
Well I am on to my next assignment now and enjoying having something to focus on.
Catch up with more news from time to time.
Sunday, 4 September 2011
Someone is knocking at the door
However a visitor late the other afternoon really was a first and one I wont forget in a hurry.
Sitting typing and engrossed in my thoughts I paused when I heard a faint knock, then a second slightly more frantic noise coming from my patio door.
Looking up in amazement I saw a pigeon pacing back wards and forwards in between
Adding a distinct louder call, I could tell this was an emergency.
Polishing my spectacles in case I was seeing things I glanced at the garden chair and there towering above my nervous ‘new best friend’ was a black cat about to pounce.
I rushed to the door which luckily wasn’t locked, burst out and scared the cat away, however the pigeon looked up at me with eyes that said it all and proceeded to adopt me for the next three hours.
Seeming almost unable to move I tried water and three small nibbles of bread but to no avail, chatted away, like you do. I used to have budgies and had long conversations with them in hours on need when I found myself alone after being bereaved
Time passed and a slight hop and a walk round a large flowerpot then eventually another hop on to a small concrete toadstool that was the resting place of a concrete frog, green in colour, so authentic. This became it’s chosen position and allowed me to go indoors and grab my mobile phone and take pictures so close it almost seemed like this feathered friend would at that point have done anything to please me.
As darkness began to fall I was concerned because it would not leave me, suggestions from my family were not what I wanted to hear ‘why not bring it indoors for the night.’
This bird was in shock and I was not about to share a small sip of my favourite brandy with it so I gently encouraged it to flutter on to the lawn where it was greeted by two other mates who resembled its colourings, so I guessed members of the family who were concerned and had been sitting on the roof, waiting in anticipation of its departure from the toadstool.
However too early to fly yet I gathered when an attempt was made, even with encouragement from its mates but walking slowly with me ushering it along it made it to the back of bushes and there it rested.
I checked several times during the evening by the light of my ‘wind up’ torch but found no trace.
Hope it made its way home and now I will wind up the hose pipe because had that cat returned to once again cause havoc he would have had a shower to contend with.
Wednesday, 17 August 2011
NAVY (WITH POLKA DOTS)
The trouble with being retired is the compelling desire to make excuses not to go places, so when asked to go on holiday with the family my first reaction was to try and find a reason to refuse.
Bad move…………not an option I was told, you are coming and it wouldn’t be the same without you. That was the overall opinion, so as it seemed a long way off I agreed to go.
As the day got nearer I went into panic mode, would I show my age and let the family down by not keeping up with all they would want to pack into the week in France.
No good worrying at this stage, surely they would understand.
The night before our ferry crossing it was arranged that I would sleep at my daughters so as to be ready for the eight am departure, which actually meant we needed to be at Portsmouth by six thirty.
I seemed to sleep for a few hours which was pretty amazing considering the anxiety I was inwardly feeling but set the alarm on my mobile phone and woke at three forty five, by this time rearing to go and forgetting all about my previous worries.
Cup of tea went down well, cases all in the car and top box the previous night so all we needed to do was secure the house and get into the car to commence the adventure which would bring lots of laughs, few aches and pains and wonderful memories for me of time with my lovely family who took care of me and made me so welcome
As we approached the ferry port it seemed quiet but the nearer we got the more cars we came upon, all neatly lined up awaiting their turn to board the ferry.
Technology playing a big part to the smooth running of the operation, we watched what the car in front of us did when approaching the large metal obelisk, pressed a button twice, I think or could have been three times. As the car number was recorded on the ticket it then welcomed you with a print out of your name etc and this was your entry to the next window where passport control examined our documents, peered into the car to check photos and wave us through.
Now we were in the queue, not for long though, cars soon boarding, ours in a special place due to the height of the car with the top box attached.
From the car to the upper deck became my first concern because it involved three flights of stairs and no lift. My use of stairs is limited and always means I am conscious of holding people up whilst I carefully climb one at a time. Oh for the days when I could run up a flight of stairs and not even be out of breath when I reached the top.
Once aboard we settled down to a four-hour trip that meant at least we could relax, catch up on our early morning start or ‘people watch’ that always fascinates me.
At the table next to us a family of four, mum dad and two small boys were settling in with ways to keep the boys entertained, cards games etc. I remember those times but not on a ferry going to France but riding on the back of a motor bike with a side car attached and two small children, my children, daughter and son on the way to Benfleet in Essex, going on holiday to stay with their nanny and granddad who lived near Southend-on-sea.
Those times were difficult so I knew how they felt, however we were entertained by the young boy who looked a bit like the character in Outnumbered who was to say the least quite hyperactive.
His finishing trick was to try to make an item disappear by juggling with three transparent beakers, when he tried to remove his fathers spectacles to use as a prop, that’s when he was chastised, think he needs a few more lessons, still made the journey go quickly.
Sitting nearby I could not help feel very sorry for a mum trying to entertain her two girls, perhaps aged eight and eleven whilst her husband caught up with his early morning start, well he may have been the driver and would need to be alert when we reached our destination.
However she also looked well in need of a nap and whilst playing cards had a nudge now and again when her turn was reached.
The youngest of her children seemed insecure and needed to suck on a muslin nappy continually, perhaps tiredness could have been the reason, I have known many children needing some sort of pacifier to either take to bed or when in stressful situations. I am sure eventually she would discard it in later life.
Having studied all around, including the young girls travelling alone eating from cardboard containers of piping hot pasta, I was curious to learn that this meal cost almost five euros and you had to microwave it yourself once purchased..
Once on French soil with the aid of the ‘sat nav’ and my son-in-laws excellent driving we made our way to a place called Branville, not that far from Normandy where we were booked in to spend a week.
Normandy Garden our destination set in acres of land with every facility to make the holiday special.
Firstly we needed food so off to a French supermarket to stock up to cater for seven people when the other three arrived at lunchtime the next day..
Three hundred and fifty euros later, two full trolleys and a massive amount of our own bags for life, carried all the way from England but saved from our last French holiday three years ago we loaded up the car and made our way back.
Wow, French cheeses, every type imaginable bread salads and lots of items not seen in our supermarkets, not forgetting all that gorgeous wine and French chocolate.
We had fun fitting it into the quaint kitchen that only accommodated one person at a time.
Difficulty came finding the bottle opener but worth the wait because once open we all appreciated the contents.
The following morning warranted a late start, so a short wait before two more of my grand children arrived with Jemma, partner of Paul and my granddaughter Rachel. Now the party of seven was complete.
When I packed my suitcase for the holiday I was tempted to add an extra item that had not seen the light of day for many years, in fact brand new and had travelled on numerous occasions only to be left in my case, however I thought I would try again to sport a very smart swimming costume, complete with skirt and looking quite fashionable. Navy in colour with white polka dots, as apposed to an ‘ itsy whitsy teeny weeny yellow polka dot bikini’(song from the past)
The family all decided a swim was the order of the day but I made my excuses and settled down to relax and read my book, this happened most days and it was not until the last day that I showed them what I had failed to adorn and now it is back in my wardrobe until I pluck up courage to either wear it or discard it once and for all.
The week flew by with trips to a white- sanded beach where we picnicked and drank wine, sunbathed relaxed, read our books and soaked up the atmosphere.
My youngest grandson David was lucky enough to have an energetic older brother as well as other members of the family to cavort on the beach playing cricket volley ball etc whilst my daughter and I watched in between gazing at the hand gliders landing on the beach and immediately being reprimanded by what looked like bay watch life savers who could see the need for a different spot to land for safety’s sake.
No fatalities though which was a relief, in fact the whole procedure looked like fun, if only twenty years younger and yes perhaps in that gorgeous swim suit. I can only dream.
Evenings were spent chatting over the day’s events and planning what was to follow as well as sampling delicious red wines and cheeses that were always popular late into the night.
We decided to visit a butterfly farm which was perfect as long as the humidity was not too much to cope with, at times I needed to rest but it was still possible to enjoy the most beautiful array of the most delicate species, photographs were difficult at times to take because the butterflies continually flutter and just when you thought you were in luck they would be off and landing somewhere else, still patience played a great part of the exercise
Looking at my mobile phone pictures I was pleased with my attempts to catch several specimens resting on beautiful flower heads.
To me the flowers were as exotic as the butterflies.
Very soon our holiday was nearly over and on the last night we all went out for a meal to a French restaurant in Villers sur mer, before eating we pottered in the little gift shops, admired the range of items for sale and pondered as to whether we should buy them.
Jemma took a shine to a clock which on consideration she decided not to buy, Paul gave his opinion and that’s when they agreed not to have it.
Now that the euro exchange rate is so poor everything seems very expensive.
We did sample cocktails before our meal, bright colours with ample decorations and cherries to top them, Linda just enjoyed a glass of champagne, takes after me but I did decide on something adventurous, the name alludes me.
Arriving for our meal we were met by Elvis, singing one of his hit songs, gave to the atmosphere of the evening, he left shortly after we arrived but not before we were able to add to his collection of euros.
Most of our party opted for mussels, which arrived in large metal pots covered with another pot to take the shells as the contents were devoured
Other specialities were crepes but unfortunately even though my daughter speaks French to explain she was a vegetarian it took two attempts before the third meal arrived without meat, however numerous apologies and no charge, bit of a result I thought.
Deserts were tempting and most of us could not resist them, in fact the whole meal and the atmosphere was conducive to the rather special night. Shame it was the last one of our holiday.
Saturday morning was an early start, the youngsters off to the supa u to buy baguettes and food for the journey home, the rest of us sorted the bungalow and packed, ian loaded the car until if he had opened the boot again everything would have fallen out.
Once everything was sorted all it needed was for the keys to be handed in at reception.
The receptionist asked for the taxes which were payable on leaving, it had been explained on arrival about a French tax but Rachel indignantly spoke out, saying but we have not had any taxis as we came by car. How right she was but wrong tax.
The ferry back was much improved to the one we left on, lifts so no stairs for me to struggle with, restaurants shops and club class casinos etc, however not all necessary but comfortable seating and a duty free shop for me to treat myself to the perfect bottle of brandy, French of course to be sipped late at night when listening to music to relax to before bed-time.
In fact as we left the ferry and made our way back to Croxley Green we all agreed we had had a memorable holiday and roll on the next one.
Bye the way, I never did get that costume out of the case, always next time.
July 23rd till 30th 2011
The trouble with being retired is the compelling desire to make excuses not to go places, so when asked to go on holiday with the family my first reaction was to try and find a reason to refuse.
Bad move…………not an option I was told, you are coming and it wouldn’t be the same without you. That was the overall opinion, so as it seemed a long way off I agreed to go.
As the day got nearer I went into panic mode, would I show my age and let the family down by not keeping up with all they would want to pack into the week in France.
No good worrying at this stage, surely they would understand.
The night before our ferry crossing it was arranged that I would sleep at my daughters so as to be ready for the eight am departure, which actually meant we needed to be at Portsmouth by six thirty.
I seemed to sleep for a few hours which was pretty amazing considering the anxiety I was inwardly feeling but set the alarm on my mobile phone and woke at three forty five, by this time rearing to go and forgetting all about my previous worries.
Cup of tea went down well, cases all in the car and top box the previous night so all we needed to do was secure the house and get into the car to commence the adventure which would bring lots of laughs, few aches and pains and wonderful memories for me of time with my lovely family who took care of me and made me so welcome
As we approached the ferry port it seemed quiet but the nearer we got the more cars we came upon, all neatly lined up awaiting their turn to board the ferry.
Technology playing a big part to the smooth running of the operation, we watched what the car in front of us did when approaching the large metal obelisk, pressed a button twice, I think or could have been three times. As the car number was recorded on the ticket it then welcomed you with a print out of your name etc and this was your entry to the next window where passport control examined our documents, peered into the car to check photos and wave us through.
Now we were in the queue, not for long though, cars soon boarding, ours in a special place due to the height of the car with the top box attached.
From the car to the upper deck became my first concern because it involved three flights of stairs and no lift. My use of stairs is limited and always means I am conscious of holding people up whilst I carefully climb one at a time. Oh for the days when I could run up a flight of stairs and not even be out of breath when I reached the top.
Once aboard we settled down to a four-hour trip that meant at least we could relax, catch up on our early morning start or ‘people watch’ that always fascinates me.
At the table next to us a family of four, mum dad and two small boys were settling in with ways to keep the boys entertained, cards games etc. I remember those times but not on a ferry going to France but riding on the back of a motor bike with a side car attached and two small children, my children, daughter and son on the way to Benfleet in Essex, going on holiday to stay with their nanny and granddad who lived near Southend-on-sea.
Those times were difficult so I knew how they felt, however we were entertained by the young boy who looked a bit like the character in Outnumbered who was to say the least quite hyperactive.
His finishing trick was to try to make an item disappear by juggling with three transparent beakers, when he tried to remove his fathers spectacles to use as a prop, that’s when he was chastised, think he needs a few more lessons, still made the journey go quickly.
Sitting nearby I could not help feel very sorry for a mum trying to entertain her two girls, perhaps aged eight and eleven whilst her husband caught up with his early morning start, well he may have been the driver and would need to be alert when we reached our destination.
However she also looked well in need of a nap and whilst playing cards had a nudge now and again when her turn was reached.
The youngest of her children seemed insecure and needed to suck on a muslin nappy continually, perhaps tiredness could have been the reason, I have known many children needing some sort of pacifier to either take to bed or when in stressful situations. I am sure eventually she would discard it in later life.
Having studied all around, including the young girls travelling alone eating from cardboard containers of piping hot pasta, I was curious to learn that this meal cost almost five euros and you had to microwave it yourself once purchased..
Once on French soil with the aid of the ‘sat nav’ and my son-in-laws excellent driving we made our way to a place called Branville, not that far from Normandy where we were booked in to spend a week.
Normandy Garden our destination set in acres of land with every facility to make the holiday special.
Firstly we needed food so off to a French supermarket to stock up to cater for seven people when the other three arrived at lunchtime the next day..
Three hundred and fifty euros later, two full trolleys and a massive amount of our own bags for life, carried all the way from England but saved from our last French holiday three years ago we loaded up the car and made our way back.
Wow, French cheeses, every type imaginable bread salads and lots of items not seen in our supermarkets, not forgetting all that gorgeous wine and French chocolate.
We had fun fitting it into the quaint kitchen that only accommodated one person at a time.
Difficulty came finding the bottle opener but worth the wait because once open we all appreciated the contents.
The following morning warranted a late start, so a short wait before two more of my grand children arrived with Jemma, partner of Paul and my granddaughter Rachel. Now the party of seven was complete.
When I packed my suitcase for the holiday I was tempted to add an extra item that had not seen the light of day for many years, in fact brand new and had travelled on numerous occasions only to be left in my case, however I thought I would try again to sport a very smart swimming costume, complete with skirt and looking quite fashionable. Navy in colour with white polka dots, as apposed to an ‘ itsy whitsy teeny weeny yellow polka dot bikini’(song from the past)
The family all decided a swim was the order of the day but I made my excuses and settled down to relax and read my book, this happened most days and it was not until the last day that I showed them what I had failed to adorn and now it is back in my wardrobe until I pluck up courage to either wear it or discard it once and for all.
The week flew by with trips to a white- sanded beach where we picnicked and drank wine, sunbathed relaxed, read our books and soaked up the atmosphere.
My youngest grandson David was lucky enough to have an energetic older brother as well as other members of the family to cavort on the beach playing cricket volley ball etc whilst my daughter and I watched in between gazing at the hand gliders landing on the beach and immediately being reprimanded by what looked like bay watch life savers who could see the need for a different spot to land for safety’s sake.
No fatalities though which was a relief, in fact the whole procedure looked like fun, if only twenty years younger and yes perhaps in that gorgeous swim suit. I can only dream.
Evenings were spent chatting over the day’s events and planning what was to follow as well as sampling delicious red wines and cheeses that were always popular late into the night.
We decided to visit a butterfly farm which was perfect as long as the humidity was not too much to cope with, at times I needed to rest but it was still possible to enjoy the most beautiful array of the most delicate species, photographs were difficult at times to take because the butterflies continually flutter and just when you thought you were in luck they would be off and landing somewhere else, still patience played a great part of the exercise
Looking at my mobile phone pictures I was pleased with my attempts to catch several specimens resting on beautiful flower heads.
To me the flowers were as exotic as the butterflies.
Very soon our holiday was nearly over and on the last night we all went out for a meal to a French restaurant in Villers sur mer, before eating we pottered in the little gift shops, admired the range of items for sale and pondered as to whether we should buy them.
Jemma took a shine to a clock which on consideration she decided not to buy, Paul gave his opinion and that’s when they agreed not to have it.
Now that the euro exchange rate is so poor everything seems very expensive.
We did sample cocktails before our meal, bright colours with ample decorations and cherries to top them, Linda just enjoyed a glass of champagne, takes after me but I did decide on something adventurous, the name alludes me.
Arriving for our meal we were met by Elvis, singing one of his hit songs, gave to the atmosphere of the evening, he left shortly after we arrived but not before we were able to add to his collection of euros.
Most of our party opted for mussels, which arrived in large metal pots covered with another pot to take the shells as the contents were devoured
Other specialities were crepes but unfortunately even though my daughter speaks French to explain she was a vegetarian it took two attempts before the third meal arrived without meat, however numerous apologies and no charge, bit of a result I thought.
Deserts were tempting and most of us could not resist them, in fact the whole meal and the atmosphere was conducive to the rather special night. Shame it was the last one of our holiday.
Saturday morning was an early start, the youngsters off to the supa u to buy baguettes and food for the journey home, the rest of us sorted the bungalow and packed, ian loaded the car until if he had opened the boot again everything would have fallen out.
Once everything was sorted all it needed was for the keys to be handed in at reception.
The receptionist asked for the taxes which were payable on leaving, it had been explained on arrival about a French tax but Rachel indignantly spoke out, saying but we have not had any taxis as we came by car. How right she was but wrong tax.
The ferry back was much improved to the one we left on, lifts so no stairs for me to struggle with, restaurants shops and club class casinos etc, however not all necessary but comfortable seating and a duty free shop for me to treat myself to the perfect bottle of brandy, French of course to be sipped late at night when listening to music to relax to before bed-time.
In fact as we left the ferry and made our way back to Croxley Green we all agreed we had had a memorable holiday and roll on the next one.
Bye the way, I never did get that costume out of the case, always next time.
July 23rd till 30th 2011
The begining
I am going to attempt to write a weekly blog, I hope it will be a bit querky and entertaining and lift me when I am down.
Watch this space as I will soon be posting our French holiday.
Watch this space as I will soon be posting our French holiday.
Wednesday, 10 August 2011
First post
Well here we are on nanalog-nanalog, how exciting is this? I hope that you will enjoy reading my posts and commenting on them too.
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