Delicacy will not permit me to tell you how our day started; suffice it to say that I had to change the bedclothes, and that neither of us was ill or incontinent. Even that is rather TMI, I realise. We took Pugsley to nursery, picked up Ro and I went to the dentist, from where he and Al walked into the ci'ee, then the Sage dropped me at the little Riverside shopping centre while he went to visit a friend. I bought various things, including three pairs of shoes and a pair of boots, which I have passed on to him for my Christmas present (romantic presents happen sometimes, but aren't always necessary. I'm very pleased with this one) and we arrived on the top floor at Bonds on the dot of noon.
Hebe (actually, shall we drop that? The Sage's sister's name is June) ... June is great fun. She has never been known to complain about anything and is always cheerful. She mentioned that she had built a snowman - all by herself, for the pleasure of everyone where she lives, which is a sort of retirement complex of individual cottages around a big courtyard, in Cromer. It's great to have someone else as daft as I am.
Her daughter and family aren't joining her for Christmas this year in fact, but her son and his partner are, complete with their neurotic cat. She has opted to go by train and meet them there, which surprised them a bit, but she confided that she really doesn't want a carsick, doped cat on her lap again. June had us in fits of laughter as she told us about the forthcoming "Big O's" - the first is to be next December when Simon will be 50, then it'll be her 80th, then Sarah's 50th. We started comparing Big Os (excuse the apostrophe, I'll leave it out now that you know I'm talking about the letter O, plural) and realised that they can carry on for the next five years, between us all. Ken, Simon's partner, had his Big O the year before last.
My teeth are fine, and so is my mouth. I paid quite a lot of money to be told so, and for a three minute polish. It rained on and off all day, but when the Sage looked out a while ago, it had started to snow lightly. If you have to travel darlings, I hope it isn't too difficult. The roads will be treacherous.
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Looking out of the window I see a dense, light grey mist and only four very small dots of light where I know that streetlamps stand.
It's snowing heavily since the late afternoon and I am lucky to have returned from my Middlefranconian research trip shortly past midday. My big O is a small dot on the horizon and I choose to ignore it.
Juist a light dusting on the cars here. I would rather it stayed like that, though I doubt my wishes will have any effect on the weather. My baby sister is 50 on New Year's Eve. I have a few years' grace before I have to think about my next big O.
It's been snowing all the way over on this side of the pond as well.
Like your blog.
It started snowing here by 3.30, and continued all evening - always fascinating that the dozen miles between us produce such variations in the weather.
Not worried by big, or little, O's. I'm stuck at 17 - in my head anyway.
I'm bored by the weather now. This is in spite of the fact that it was a balmy -4 when I set off for work this morning.
June sounds like loads of fun. You not only married a honey, you married into a great family.
Be warm today my darling.
There isn't much depth of snow this morning, but I had to chip the ice off the window pane before I could look out from the bedroom. What came down was in the evening, the Sage's footprints are still there.
Cheers, John - I don't think much of the country is getting snow of Canadian proportions, although some places in the north of England and Scotland never lost the last lot from November.
Only member of the family I didn't get on with was the Sage's late brother.
17 and the prospect of A levels over my head? Hm. I think I'll plump for the early 30s, Sir B.
The rivers and the coast have a lot to do with it, Dave. Our weather can be different from Harleston's, just down the road.
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