Z catches up

I seem to have caught up, so back to five points -

1 Much of yesterday was spent writing letters of one sort and another.  One was a letter of condolence to Jill's daughter.  Today will mostly be spent on office work and settling accounts.  I think the next batch of major bills will be the end of it.  House insurance, council tax and then we'll be out of debt.  Although there are three family birthdays next month, so it'll soon build up again.

2 The council tax-free period on the annex finishes at the end of this month so then we can furnish it.  I'm going to move my study in there, which is very kind of me because my present study is a lovely room and I'm letting the Sage have it.  On the other hand, the bungalow is going to be mine and I'm rather looking forward to that.

3 Can today go by without mentioning the weather?  I think not.  It's snowing.  Melting as it hits the ground, but settling on the trees.  We've got it lightly compared to the rest of the country, however.  If there are floods or blizzards your way, my heartfelt sympathy.  It must be quite dreadful.

4 In spite of my best efforts, my feed reader now has 227 unread posts.  I shall read the rest of those written by friends (that is, if you've left comments, replied to my comments, had any personal contact) and delete the rest unread.  I've hardly glanced at the newspapers all week, read no books and have had too much other reading to do, so something has to give.  Not friends, though.

5 The Sage kindly cooked me bacon and egg for breakfast.  When I had eaten it, I kindly cooked the same for him.  This seems slightly odd, but it seemed to work and enabled both of us to be nice.  Actually, the fifth point was going to be something else, but I've forgotten what.

It's as if you were there with me...

The lecture the other day was on the history of clothes and wasn't quite what I expected.  It wasn't so much clothes through the ages but an examination of specific portraits and the clothes shown in them.  The speaker did take them in chronological order so changing styles came into it, but there was much more to it than that, because she also brought along images of similar fabrics and clothes, mainly from the V&A, which was immensely interesting.  She had done so much research.

I'm not going to remember the titles of all the paintings to show you, but a few will give the flavour.  One was Moroni's The Tailor, another was Bellini's Doge Leonardo Loredan, there were these two splendid teenaged brothers, painted by Van Dyck, both of whom were killed in the Civil War.  This Gainsborough was used as an example of how a more free style gives little clue how the clothes were made (so is less appreciated by clothes historians) and a poignant Hogarth of the Graham children who look so happy and so very expensively dressed.  The little boy on the left died before the picture was finished and she showed several touches that Hogarth had done to indicate this sad event.  He was less than a year old - at that time, by the way, it was normal for boys to wear pink (as a less strong version of warlike red) and girls to wear blue, which was associated with the Virgin Mary.  There was Madame de Pompadour, who also died before the portrait was completed, Queen Charlotte who, anxious and distracted about her husband's illness, was reluctant to sit for a portrait.  She turned up in a dark gown and an unbecoming bonnet that hid her face and it took some persuasion for her to remove the hat.  Lawrence simply painted her in a prettier dress, but the king was shocked by her hatless hair and it was rejected.  Then there was Ingres' Madame Moitessier - this took several years to paint because Ingres kept changing his mind as to what she should wear.  He abandoned it several times, then returned to it.  When finally completed in 1856, this style was bang up to the minute.  Renoir also took several years to complete les Parapluies because he was not satisfied with it - an x-ray shows that the woman on the left looking directly at us had originally been dressed similarly to the mother in the bustle, but he changed his style and painted over her, also changing the message of the painting.  Instead of being another richly dressed young woman, her bare head and gloveless hands indicate a woman of a lower social class, one who had a job, though she's well enough dressed to be respectable and reasonably well paid.  However, it's clear that the man offering her his umbrella has designs on her.  In painting and costume terms, however, it's the completely different dress, painted in a different style too, that is most notable and shows Renoir's abandonment of Impressionism.

The V&A has one of the dresses shown in a portrait in its collection - sadly, I can't remember the title or artist and I haven't managed to find it on the National Gallery website.  If I can, I'll add it later.

Catching up, but still yesterday's post

The Sage went to boarding school, the one beginning with R in Derbyshire.  He was completing his schooldays about the time I was born, in fact.  There was an old boys' lunch yesterday in Aldeburgh, at a hotel beginning with W on the seafront, which will be easily identified by anyone who knows the town (no, not the Weasel, Mike).

There was quite a spread of ages, from 80s to a few in their 40s, about ten wives and it was all very good fun.  It reminded me of a blog party, rather, in that very few people knew each other but were coming along to be sociable and friendly and there was no question of sticking to those you knew because that wasn't the point of the day.  I chatted to a number of people, the Sage probably talked to just about everyone because he's even more sociable than I am (I know, darlings, hardly possible).  The Headmaster was there too, which was very good of him, I thought, a long way to have come.  The food was excellent too, a prawn salad, then delicious rare roast beef, then sticky toffee pudding.  I coped manfully with most of it and skipped dinner later, although I did have a snack at about 10.30 pm.

I hadn't had high hopes of the day, though I'd been perfectly willing to go along, and even encouraged the Sage to wear his Old R blazer, a bright little number that he's disconcertingly keen to wear on unsuitable occasions.  He also wore his OR scarf and tie.  Several others were wearing the tie too, and were impressed by him fitting into his jacket so many decades on - though he never puts on weight.  I sat opposite a retired ambassador whose memoirs are coming out later this year - I've noted it and (unasked) promised to buy it, next to a delightful woman who's a farmer but, as her children are fairly young, grows herbs at present instead of a full-on farm.  She said that she was talking to a farmer friend of many years' experience the other day and he said he has never known weather like the last two years and now doesn't know what to do.  The ground is too cold and wet to sow seeds, this time last year there was a drought followed by a wet summer, it's all beyond anything he's experienced.  My new friend is sure that, once the weather finally heats up (no sign yet, due to be colder at the weekend) it'll jump at least 15º (Celsius, that is) in a matter of days and be too hot for the seedlings.  My other neighbours were her husband, who was good company, a very nice man of about the Sage's age and the Head, who I'd already buttonholed a bit to ask various educational questions and then apologised to because it's not really the thing at a social do, but he seemed quite relaxed about it.  I didn't go into it too head-on, I promise.  Just interested.  They've been taking girls for many years of course, since the '70s, but no old girls were there.

In the evening, I headed off to the school for the first night of the school play, which was Twelfth Night with music from the 80s, set in Ibiza (the shipwreck was a plane crash instead) in modern dress.  And it was brilliant, great fun.  As it was the first night, they've got a bit of tweaking of sound balance to do, though I was in the front row (it was my duty, darlings, and I'm a slave to duty though that's quite another show) so probably didn't hear the dynamics as those further back did.  Some of the actors/singers were exceptionally good and all were splendid.  I had a great time.  I seem to have signed up for the PTA's 100 Club, which is fine except that I've done it on a standing order, so am probably in it for life.

I finally rocked home at 10.30, fried a couple of bantam eggs and drank a glass of wine, went to bed at midnight and slept soundly until after 6.  Since that is uncommon - the latest item, that is - the day must have been quite remarkably good for me.

It's been busy again today.  I suppose I'll catch up sooner or later.  I haven't got a lot planned for tomorrow, maybe then.  

yesterday's post

It wasn't that I had nothing to write, just too much to do.  It's been a very good couple of days in fact, so I'll start with yesterday morning.

I left half an hour later than planned because of phone calls and emails that couldn't wait all day, so whizzed hastily into Jarrolds.  I went to be measured for a new bra.  I knew I'd be a smaller size, but I was surprised by the result - and it just shows that one needs to be fitted by an expert.  And if you never have been, go to a shop with proper fitters, they can do it by eye.  You don't need to take your clothes off and they don't actually need to measure you.  I said that I'd last been fitted as 34D but that was now too big and she said I was 32 ... DD.  Yes, down a back size, up a cup size.

The thing is, and I did know this, the size of the cup is relative to the size of the back, as the circumference is called.  So a 32E would be quite bosomy but a 40E wouldn't be at all.  I'd never buy a cheap bra, it never fits well and doesn't last, whilst a good one keeps its shape (and yours) for ages.  They're not that expensive, the ones I bought were £27 each, but had 20% off because of the promotion.  I do love nice underwear, not that the Sage would notice but I wear it for myself.

Anyway, after that I popped upstairs for a quick look at beds and sofas, which was quite inconclusive and then, because I had a few minutes in hand, looked at clothes, specifically the 50% or more off rail at a particular make's petite section.  Because I am, most clothes have arms longer than mine and the waist is too low.  I tried on a skirt, two dresses, a top, a knitted jacket and a tailored bouclé jacket.  I picked out size 10 and thought, but they're too small.  The top was medium because they didn't have small ... that was the only thing I didn't buy, because it was far too big.  I had to be very hasty because I only had ten minutes - look, I can do decisive and my speciality is spending money in quick time.  I explained that I had to be somewhere else by 10.55 and two assistants looked after me, one packing and one adding up.

And then I arrived at the theatre just in time to find a seat before the lecture, which was really good, and I'll tell you about it another day.  Afterwards - I was so efficient, darlings, filled every minute of the day - I met Ro for lunch - it was funny, I steamed along towards his office, gathering up a woman on the way who asked me the way to Tombland - no, I'm not being peculiar, that's the name of a street in Norwich.  I said if she came with me I'd point her in the right direction.  Then Ro phoned to say he was outside the restaurant and told me which way to go, we knew we were within 50 yards of each other.  When I spotted him, he didn't see me so we carried on the conversation until we met face to face.  He said he'd heard my voice both through the phone and not (it does carry, loud and clear) so knew I was close.  We had a very nice beef stew: shin that had been gently cooked for hours with onions, red wine and mushroom and probably other things too, and coffee and while I was getting out my wallet he handed over his card to pay.  I was charmed.  One of the many lovely things about having grown up children is that they think it's normal to take you out for a meal as often as you take them.

After that, I had to hurry back to school for a meeting with the Head and vice-chair, which was very constructive in terms of future planning.  So it was one of those days when I felt I'd achieved quite a lot.   Today's been good too.  But that's a post for tomorrow.  

Surprised by Sage

One thing I always enjoyed about being married to the Sage was that he could always surprise me - that is, I've never learned all there is to know about him.  The revelations have diminished over the years and more recently most of the surprises have been less welcome ones, to be frank.  Changes associated with age aren't necessarily for the better.

However, this evening he did it again.  I'd been watching Paul Hollywood's Bread and he became interested too.  "No reason why we couldn't make bread," he said suddenly.  I agreed.  I always used to  make all my bread (hand-kneaded, of course, I've never had a bread-making machine, nor even used the dough hook on the food mixer) but I stopped years ago and never started again.  I make yeast batters once in a while, for blini, crumpets and so on, but I rarely make bread.  So my agreement was qualified, I said that I haven't done it for ages and I wasn't sure if I'd actually bother.

"I could do it," he said, "watching him, it doesn't seem that hard." "Well, you're a good cook, but I've never seen you following a recipe, would you be able to?"  He didn't see why not.  "You've got the tins, haven't you?" And the last thing I'd want to do is discourage him.  So, as I'm going to Norwich tomorrow and planning to go to Jarrolds (independent large department store, complete with splendid bookshop) I shall buy him the book.  And later, flour and yeast.

Okay, I'm not convinced it's going to happen, but I'm all for enthusiasm.  And who knows, it could be his new Thing.

17th March 2003 was a Sunday too

Today is the tenth anniversary of my mother's death.  I don't normally mark such events and do my best not to think of them, but this has been on my mind a good deal recently.  I'm not entirely sure why, except possibly that it's close to the date when I shall have outlived my father, something I'm oddly dreading.  This is not to say I wish not to survive beyond the next week and please don't read this in any such light, but I feel as if I shall be leaving him behind and, even more than forty years on, I'm reluctant to do that.

My mother was told she had terminal cancer exactly, to the day, six months before she died.  She had a fabulous last six months and appreciated and enjoyed them fully.  I remember one day, not long after she came home from hospital, when very old friends, Lawrie and Lynn, came up from Somerset to visit her.  We made smoked salmon sandwiches and got out champagne and the party was in full swing when the Rector arrived to visit his sick parishioner.  He was momentarily bewildered to be greeted by Jane with a beaming smile and a glass of champagne (for him, she couldn't drink) but entered into the spirit of things in no time.

Our friends Pam and Peter, the ones I went to Corfu with last year, called round one day with flowers for me, having heard she had been at death's door but not that she had spurned its threshold.  I was out and she saw them arrive.  Naturally assuming the flowers were for her, she greeted them warmly.  They told me afterwards, that was pretty disconcerting.  But it was typical of those last months which she enjoyed so much.

Weeza and I were asleep in the next room when she died.  Weeza woke me in the early hours to say she couldn't hear anything: I went to check and found that she had left this life.  It was unexpected in that she had had a morphine driver fitted twelve hours previously, which should have eased her last few days.  No one was to know that it was only willpower keeping her going and, once the morphine had dulled that, there was no strength left.  It was the right time for morphine, though.  The previous night had been uncomfortable, though not painful for her and she would have suffered without it.  As it was, the Sage and I helped her to bed and he stayed with her while I went to fetch Weeza from the station - she had come straight home from London when I phoned.  When we got back, we found the Sage helping a very woozy mother to the bathroom, she being determined to go to the loo before falling asleep.  We helped, got her back into bed and she greeted Weeza and kissed us all before settling to sleep.  She didn't wake again and I'm sure she waited for me to get back.  I'm also sure that she didn't want to die in front of anyone, to spare us, because I know that's often the case.

I phoned the doctor's nighttime service and a doctor from the next town's practice (someone I know as it so happened) rang me back.  I explained the checks I'd made to ensure she had died: though I knew as soon as I saw her, I checked her pulse, her cooling temperature and put a mirror to her lips, and that he did not need to come out unless he felt he must, and he said he wouldn't unless I wanted him to.  I phoned Wink, who was due to arrive that morning, the undertaker and, around seven o'clock, the Rector, to tell him I couldn't play the organ at the service that day.

My mother's own doctor called in later out of sympathy, which was lovely of him as he wasn't even on duty that weekend, and later the undertakers arrived.  Wink and I had opened a bottle of red wine by then - it was sometime after midday, and the Rector came just in time to say a prayer for her before she left.  I thrust a glass of wine at him and he dutifully drank it, afterwards admitting he'd given up alcohol for Lent, but he's a good friend and it was a gesture of support (the Sabbath is made for man, not man for the Sabbath, as Jesus put it).

I didn't cry, then or afterwards.  I'd cried buckets six months previously and also briefly on the Friday when the doctor told me that the stent keeping her bile duct open had failed and that she would last a fortnight at most, probably less than a week.  But there's a time to die and she'd reached it, and it was better to be thankful for a peaceful end in her own bed.

If you have been, thanks for listening.  And if you are remembering someone you love, I hope I've not added to your sadness but please think of me as sharing it.

Love to all, Z xxx

Keeping in Touch

A lovely afternoon out with Squiffany.  The Sage joined us for lunch, then left us to go shopping, but we couldn't find anything in Beccles so decided to go over to Norwich.  On the way, we talked about what she might like, but she couldn't really think of anything.  She's the most undemanding child.  She did mention hair clips.  So, knowing she's saving up for an iPod, I suggested a visit to the Apple Store.  So polite is she that she offered me a contribution of the £30 she has saved already, but I said she should keep it for apps and music.

So she now owns a lovely blue iPod Touch, which looks set to be popular with the whole family.  Luckily, I had a bagful of odds and ends squirrelled away and could give Pugsley a book of cut-out-and-fold paper aeroplanes, which lessened a rather inevitable twinge of jealousy.  I think I've just upped the ante in the grandchild present-giving stakes.

And I have no qualms about doing so, either.  I wasn't fortunate enough to have indulgent grandparents, though I had one very loving grandfather, and I didn't have any relations at all outside the immediate family.  Having grandchildren and family living close by is something that gives me great joy and I'm so lucky.    

And it gave me an excuse to spend time in the Apple Store, which is always a pleasure.

Zed and the Art of Motor Maintenance

1 The Sage noticed a couple of days ago that my offside sidelight wasn't working so I was going to go and buy a new bulb, but on the way home last night the headlamp wasn't working either.  It had been fine last time I used it, but the warning light lit up within minutes of leaving the restaurant.

So today I toddled in to the car maintenance shop in Yagnub where the very helpful owner had also ordered me a new rear windscreen wiper and brought them all home.  And reader, I fitted them.  Yes, I know it's not that hard, but I've never done it before, having always had a husband for that sort of thing.  I still have the husband but he has lost interest in such matters over the last couple of years and besides, he's out.

When done, I duly tested them and have to admit an arms-in-the-air triumphant "Yes!" moment.

2 After the Finance meeting today, two of my fellow Trustees and I (all the governors are academy directors, though we don't use the term normally, but four of us are Members of the Academy Trust, though we avoid saying that too, most of the time) had an informal chat and I broached a subject that's needed to be talked about for a while, ie succession planning.  It's up for discussion about staff anyway, but I was talking about me.  Not for a while, I'm not standing down yet, but that's the point of calling it succession planning.  My aim is not to be missed when I leave because I'll have prepared for it.  And we're going to start by raising the matter, not just about me but other key governors, at our Steering meeting on Monday week.

3 The air has changed.  Though still cold, winter is no longer here.  I trust it won't be back for at least 8 months.

4 My passport runs out in December.  I'm going to Turkey in September and need to have 6 months at least in hand (I mean, on the date - I'm only going for a week).  Oh joy, a new passport photo.  I'm going to Beccles tomorrow, I might as well go into the post office and pick up a form - as I remember, you can't get them here.

5 Talking of going to Beccles tomorrow, the purpose of that is to meet Squiffany after gymnastics and take her out to lunch and Shopping! for her birthday on Wednesday.  She will be eight.  I know, it's hard to believe, she's older than this blog.

Gather ye daffodils while Z may

1 I see that Google Reader is closing down in July.  I am, even now, downloading (via Google Takeaway) all the info I have stored there, but what do I do with it?  Can anyone recommend a good feed reader, please?

2 I have no comment to make on the appointment of a new Pope.  I expect it to have no impact on my life at all and it doesn't seem necessary to form an opinion.

3 I went out this morning without a coat to put some papers in the recycling bin.  I did not scuttle back moments later, chilled to the marrow.  And when the snow melted, daffodils were in flower.  The Met Office app says that the temperature today will be 5º max (feels like 2º) so that this feels quite warm shows how used to the cold I have become.  The sunshine shows that the windows need cleaning.  I'll go over them with a babywipe*, housework has its limits and I've already done the dusting today.  And cleaned my computer keyboard.  Ben found a patch of sunshine to lie in (and I took a photo which is on Facebook).

4 Having booked a holiday in the autumn, my sister emailed to suggest we go away together the same week.  The dear girl has now suggested a different date.  Bring it on, I say.  I like holidays, even if there's only going to be a few days between them.  And they'll be quite different in style, one very relaxing and the other busy, with lots of sightseeing and museums.

5 The sunshine has also shown me how much glinting white shows in my hair.  I don't care.  I'm not going to get into the tyranny of dyeing it and having to touch up roots.  I don't mind going grey and I don't mind looking my age, either.



*I just have.  Most of the dust is on the outside.  It can stay there, then.

This little finger on the right - except it isn't, it's a thumb and it's on the left

The only problem with this 5 things way of blogging, which many of you have also taken up because it works very well, is what I should call the posts.  There's rarely a unifying theme and there are only so many variations on 5.  Anyway,  here are today's five plus a postscript, because it doesn't seem appropriate to write it in a list.

1 Not sure what happened last night, I cooked and ate dinner (trout) and read the paper and was suddenly overwhelmed by tiredness.  Not ill, just exhausted.  I thought a bath might perk me up, but it didn't and I was in bed and asleep before 9.  That meant I thought it was morning at 2 am and I didn't sleep again, or not until I decided to get up at 7.  That sent me off for half an hour, oh yes.

2 May have to postpone meetings, as we're getting so many apologies.  Oh good, that means I might have time to get ready for them.

3 My sister asked if I was free for a literary lunch in London in June, which I'd have liked to go to.  Unfortunately, it's the same day as a concert in Blythburgh church - the only daytime one I've booked for, except the children's one which is at a weekend.  Always the way, innit?

4 When preparing the trout, I cut my thumb.  I thought I was in for a painful time, as I was handling both salt and lemon juice, but it hasn't hurt at all, then or since.  Quite odd.  Actually, I just bit my thumb to be quite sure it hadn't lost all feeling.

5 Looking out of the east window, the sky is grey.  On the west side, the sky is blue.  The Sage took Ben for his walk this morning (I expect it was a short one but can't blame him) and I haven't been out of the house yet.  I have to go out after lunch but would much rather stay home and skulk by the fire.



I'm sorry to say that my friend, whom I visited in Norwich hospital a couple of weeks ago, is very ill and unlikely to see the weekend.  I shall not see her again: family visits only now.  

Z flops

1 Totally exhausted suddenly.  Heading for bath and bed in five minutes

2 I introduced Ben to the bantams today, which went well.  More tomorrow.

3 A lamb born on the front field.

4 I've got loads of work done, but not all and more has come in.

5 Several emails to answer including one from Elle.  Maybe bath will perk me up.  Can't keep my eyes open at present.  Sage will walk dog.  g'night

Because it bit my finger so

1 On Tim's recommendation, I bought Joseph Heller's God Knows. Unable to sleep, I started to read at daybreak.  I've discovered that I have reached the age when I need a decent light to be able to read small print.  After a lifetime of reading in the dimmest conditions, this is a bit depressing.  I shall have a bath later and read there.

2 The phone keeps ringing and it's for the Sage every time, though I'm nearest and have been the one to answer.  I'm really not very fond of the telephone.  The Sage loves it though.  He's just been Skyping a friend in New Zealand and now is on the phone to Sheila in Atlanta, Georgia.  There's a drought in New Zealand.

3 I put the pictures of Ben onto Facebook and Andy was very pleased to see them.  He really misses his dog.

4 Norfolk and Suffolk have had a month's worth of rain in 24 hours, according to the local paper.  And a few inches of snow.  I drove to Norwich today and passed a car upside-down in a (dryish) ditch.  The owner of the sheep just phoned: he rescued them from their huddled position in their shelter, to which the water was rapidly rising.  They'll be fine now, that field will never flood.  Well, the whole village would have to be under water.  Though I'm not entirely sure that is out of the question.  And it's cold - when I left the car park in Norwich today, a Renault Megane that had, like my car, been parked for four or five hours had icicles hanging from its back bumper.

5 The school play this term is Twelfth Night.  It's to be a musical, in modern dress (but Shakespeare's words) and the music is from the early 1980s.  I'm sure it will be splendid and I'll love it.

Stop the world, Z wants to get off

1 I have just finished the agenda for the next governors' meeting, to go out tomorrow.  Also the agenda for Friday's meeting, where I've blithely put down several items that I haven't started to prepare yet.  Rather hoping my much more efficient vice-chairman will come to my rescue.

2 Huge backlog of Nadfas reports, which have come in over the last week and which I haven't had time to look at.  Next mailing has to go out by Wednesday, so that's all right, I've Tuesday morning and evening available.

3 Very entertaining watching Ben watching Crufts.  I read once that dogs can't see the 2D images on television.  That is nonsense, as you'll see from the photos below.  None of the dogs was making a sound, so he certainly saw them.

4 The field where the sheep are is flooded and they're huddled in a small area, so they will be brought on to our front field tomorrow.  I'm looking forward to that.  I like sheep.

5 I'm going to a lecture about Burghley House and Hatfield House and the Cecil family tomorrow.  Before that, I'm going with the Sage to his doctor's appointment, because he'll not report back accurately - he always tells me everything is fine, even when it isn't (he's not ill, don't worry, it's the result of a blood test) and afterwards I have to pick up a piece of china, which will mean going through Norwich at the start of the rush hour.  So that's 9-5 taken care of.

 His interest was engaged

 Listening to advice on dog training and making notes on how to avoid it

 This is more like it!

*Sniff, sniff* - wot, no smelevision?

Gardners Leave

And jolly dull it is around here now.  It was lovely to meet them all at last and I'm really pleased that Ben settled down at last yesterday and showed he can be a very nice dog and not a rather annoyingly whirling dervish all the time.

Back to the five things

1 The rain turned to sleet and then snow.  We'd all hoped that spring was arriving but the forecast is pretty depressing.

2 The road into Yagnub is closed for several weeks because they're repairing a bridge, so we have to go round by the bypass.  It trebles the journey, which we never allow time for because we generally forget about the closure, both going into town and out again, and have to turn round.

3 I've been flower-arranging in the church this afternoon.  It's Mother's Day tomorrow (actually, it's Mothering Sunday, but since it's treated as Mother's Day, I'm going to call it that.  Mothering Sunday is actually a church thing, not actual mothers) but we don't now know how many families will turn up.  It's an hour earlier than usual, I'm not sure why, and although it was in the village magazine the school apparently didn't send out a reminder.  I suspect people will arrive just in time for coffee and posies.

4 After Phil & Lisa & co left, Dilly arrived with the children, then Al turned up after work to look after Hadrian while she took the other two swimming.  He said that there have been several postmen off sick, so he's done at least two rounds every day.  He had a message from his boss asking for help: they were short-staffed again today.  He got back to the depot to find piles of post because of Mother's Day.  So he worked until it was done.

5 Gosh, it's far too quiet.  

Z calls a Halti

Phil, Amelie and I took Ben for a walk on the marshes today, while Toby had a nap and Lisa kept a watchful eye, or possibly took the opportunity for a well-earned rest.  I made the mistake of not putting on Ben's Halti and he was quite overexcited and pulled hard.  I could barely manage him.  However, once we arrived on the field and I let him off his lead, he had a wonderful time.

There was a swan relaxing on the water near the opposite bank to the cattle's watering hold and Ben was quite interested.  I was quite anxious, because I know how tricky swans can be, and Ben plunged cheerily into the water - but only to paddle, he didn't go out of his depth.  He ran around for quite some time after that, then found an area where the farmer had taken a tractor and the ground was quite churned up.  He loved wallowing in the mud.

I looked at this dog, covered in mud, wet through and blissfully happy, and I felt happy myself. This is what a dog's life should be, I thought.  He's a retriever, after all, running round the fields and going into the water are natural to him.  Amelie wondered how I'd catch him to put his lead on and I assured her he'd come when I called.  Before that, he went through another stream and washed most of the mud off and then we set off for home.

There's a beck that runs between our garden and our further field (which is known as Humpy's Meadow) and he decided to plunge into that too. Startled, Phil let go of the lead.  I was just getting that sorted out when Ben had a good shake.  The river water doesn't taste *that* bad, but I still spat several times.

After putting him in the porch, where I rubbed him down with a towel, we went to visit the chickens.  One had just laid an egg and clucked obligingly.  Another ate out of my hand, the Sage picked up a black hen for Amelie to stroke and she was able to find three eggs to take back to the house.  So she has learned a fair bit about living in the country.  Phil and Lisa have discovered that we're even more peculiar than I portray us as here.  

Gardners' Questing Time

The Gardners arrived during the afternoon and are as delightful as I'd expected them to be.  The children ate their tea with impeccable manners and went to bed in due course, and Lisa and Phil have just gone up too.  Ben was hopelessly overexcited all day - he normally sleeps half the evening, but mostly bounced instead.  I hope he settles down tomorrow, it's a bit trying.

It was an odd day in some ways.  I have been so busy this week I hadn't got anything ready, so whizzed round for a couple of hours, changing beds and - Phil and Lisa won't believe this, but I did - tidying up a bit.  Then off to school for Music, where the morning lesson was a new project, learning to play a piece of music, including some theory and reading a stave.  The piece is Katy Perry's Firework.  Or is it Fireworks, I can't remember.  Then I trotted along to a reception for a group of French exchange students, the Mayor and Town Reeve came along too and I smiled and shook hands a lot and had my photo taken several times (in a group) and I'm afraid it's bound to be in the paper.  There was a large chocolate cake and I ate a piece of it, which was all I had time for for lunch.  I also had a small cup of tea and it wasn't until this evening that I realised I hadn't had anything else to drink all day until 5 o'clock when I had some coffee.  Not enough, really.

In the afternoon, the other class hadn't yet finished their Indian music, so it was back to the ragas.  I felt a bit spaced out by the time I left.  And then, when home, I had several things to deal with, including booking a holiday, so it was just as well that the guests were a bit delayed.

I gather the children wake pretty early.  Well that is, we usually get going rather late in the morning, it isn't that they're unusually early.  Amelie is looking forward to meeting the chickens.

On the double

1 I seem to be making a habit of not enough sleep - no change there, then.  But I did sleep reasonably well last night, it was just that I had to get up early.

2 And was in Norwich by 7.30 and on the way to London.  We had a really easy run and arrived on schedule, although apparently there was a burst water main in Piccadilly.  We saw no sight of anything amiss.

3 The exhibition was jolly good and bigger than we'd expected.  A lot of Manet's paintings that I knew nothing about and some that I did.  I hadn't realised that he was only 51 when he died.

4 I had a Roquefort, celery and wild mushroom tart for lunch.  It was very good.  I had a pistachio-topped and strawberry-purée filled cake for tea, which was rather richer than I expected.  I coped manfully.

5 I was in cheery and expansive mood and trotted over to Fortnums and bought presents for the children and the Sage.  Food ones.  Well, food and drink (tea).

6 It's been a busy day and five isn't enough.

7 One of our party didn't feel very well and the RA staff looked after her and altered her ticket to another day, as she wasn't able to cope with the exhibition.  Unfortunately, she was extremely sick on the way home.  Most unfortunately, she was in the seat behind me and my friend Angy.  It was worse for her travelling companion, of course. I trust it was nothing catching.

8 Usually, the Sage would have cooked my supper.  I phone ahead so he knows how to time it.  But we were a bit late, so I said he shouldn't wait.  I cooked myself an omelette when I got home.

9 There was a frost last night when I walked the dog, but none this morning.  But the sun didn't shine all day - or rather, it did but it was hidden by clouds.

10 Our friends whose wedding reception was held on our field last summer have asked if we could look after their puppy Rupert in August when they go on holiday.  We've said yes.  This could turn into a nice little business - totally non-lucrative of course, as we wouldn't charge them.

Tuesday's five

1 Sunshine and warmth!  I had to wear sunglasses to drive.  Mind you, I gather the weather forecast is none too good for tomorrow.

2 Awful noises came from the new phones and it wasn't even a heavy breather.  Turned out that the base had to be plugged into a different socket, not the main one - which was the one the previous phone worked best from.  Ho hum.

3 I'm going to the Manet exhibition at the RA tomorrow.  Early start, I've got to be in Norwich by 7.15.

4 A meeting at the school with feedback from an evaluation we had done by advisors, who gave impartial advice on how well we're doing and how to improve.  I was quite enthused and invigorated by it all, which shows that my assertion that I need outside interests and responsibilities, however much work they are, if I'm not to be bored and depressed, is correct.

5 Time to walk the dog.  Goodnight

Your five a day

1 We're really looking forward to Phil, Lisa, Amelie and Toby coming to stay.

2 I haven't yet decided what to give them to eat. Some recipe browsing is called for (though I trust I'm not raising culinary expectations).

3 Having said the chickens are having a new run, the Sage is now considering letting them take over the whole kitchen garden after all. Hmmmm.

4 The aforementioned Sage is loving driving again.

5 I have readopted Maudie Littlehampton's mantra "If it's me, it's U".

6,7,8,9,10

1 The Sage is finally driving again, more than a month after his ban ended. Having been really anxious to start again, he then kept putting off the sending in of the form. I dunno. That's Sages for you.

2 Wink and I were discussing how one remembers numbers. I lost her entirely when I explained my methods - for example, my mobile number ends 3795. That's 19x2-1 and 19x5. Obv. She didn't think so.

3 I have had a cooked breakfast two days in a row. Yesterday, the Sage cooked me bacon and eggs. We have been married 40 years, or it will be that soon anyway, and he's never cooked bacon and eggs for my breakfast before. Today it was poached egg but I cooked it myself.

4 The sun shone today. Ree-markable.

5 All the same, I've found it hard to keep my spirits up. End of winter blues perhaps or maybe it was last week's hospital visiting. I'll be glad when the clocks change. I want BST all year round.

1,2,3,4,5 - which should have been the title of yesterday's post

1 A weasel ran across the road in front of me. It always surprises me quite how small they are.

2 When I took Ben for a walk this morning, he disappeared over the bank towards the river. It's only a little river, but all the same, I'd rather he didn't jump in. He came back when I called but later took a paddle at the cows' drinking area.

3 I slept soundly last night. It was lovely.

4 I've been getting a lot of emails from various friends whose accounts have been hacked into. Four people yesterday and another two today. I've changed my own password, I suggest you do so too and are vigilant.

5 Having changed the password, I had to update several other places too, iPhone, iPad, gmail notifier. It was a bit of a nuisance, actually, and now I have a new password to remember. But it was a year since I last changed it, so a Good Idea.

Once Z caught a fish alive...

I like these 'five things' posts.  Stops me waffling so much.

1 For the first time, I had to pick up after Ben.  He, like a lot of dogs, is very modest when it comes to lavatorial matters and usually vanishes into a remote corner of the field.  Bitches don't care, in my experience.

2 I achieved quite a lot this morning, getting the Sage's car insurance searched out and bought and dealing with our house insurance amongst other things.  That is, the insurance is not due yet and I'm not paying until it is, but I've gone through all the paperwork.  The Sage has finally handed over all such things to me, which has probably been a good move as he is very loyal to those who have his custom and is reluctant to switch.  Sadly, loyalty isn't always a two-way thing.

3 I visited my friend in Norwich hospital.  She's brave and cheerful, but hasn't felt like eating since Sunday which is probably the reason she is quite weak.  And she lost her hair again over Christmas.  Still, she's resolute and has booked a place on the Nadfas visit to Holland in the autumn.  If she's able to go, we'll share a room.  While I was there her daughter arrived, then another friend and then another, so I left at that point.  Jill was really pleased, she's very sociable and was charmed that so many of her friends visited on the same day.  When I arrived home, I rang a couple of other people who I know are fond of her, to let them know she's in hospital.  It was such a silly accident, she fell between two pieces of furniture and couldn't extricate herself and had to wait until her daughter arrived to rescue her.  it didn't injure her, but it was the weakness that made her fall that is the problem.

4 I spent an hour or so setting up the new phones we have bought.  I reflected that I seem to have reached the age when getting to grips with new stuff is a worry rather than a pleasure.  I've done the immediate bits and will do the rest, such as programming in phone numbers so that we know who's ringing, when I've recovered from the stress of the basic stuff.  In a day or two, I will have to teach the Sage how to listen to messages.  Actually, it's easier than the last phone.  I had to buy new ones because the Sage had left two outside and they were rained on and the rechargeable battery on a third has failed, so we were left with a single useful phone, plus the one that works without electricity.  We never use the landline except for phoning abroad or for 0800 etc numbers, we always use our iPhones.

5 Mysteriously, my iPhone has got a shattered back.  It's always kept in a leather case and I don't remember dropping it, but I must have - it still works, I only found out when I took it out of its case: the glass is broken but still in place.  It's covered on our homoe insurance, but there's a £100 excess so I may get it repaired instead.  I'll have to look into it.

It's going to be a busy weekend, so please excuse me if I miss a day or two.  I'll be back, as they say.

Tentative cheer and huzzah for friendship

Things are a bit better today - that is, I took Gill to see Andy and he's a lot better.  Fortunately, his vasculitis has not flared up and the chest infection is responding to antibiotics and he was able to chat to us.  And the little boy is responding to treatment too.  Because I took Gill, I didn't see my friend in Norwich (Andy is in Gallstone Hospital) but will try to call in tomorrow.

This morning, I met a friend for coffee and we chewed the fat for nearly two hours.  I come to value my women friends more and more - I always have of course, but I've always been reticent and self-sufficient for most of my life.  When a group of friends got together to dish the dirt, talk frankly about their lives and so on, I was the quiet one, and I didn't search out a confidante either.  But over the past few years I've changed a fair bit, realised that being reticent can look like being unfriendly and being incurious can look as if I don't care.  So I've become increasingly open, both to speak and to listen, and the kindness and love that I've often felt has been incalculable.  M and I talked and later G and I talked, nothing startling but in both cases mutually supportive.

And while I'm being soppy (I'm not really, I'm quite chipper tonight), thank you too, those who are so often absolutely lovely to me.  I do appreciate it.

Sadness

Oh dear.  Things seem to be awry at the moment - not here, but amongst friends.  A good friend, whom I've been on holiday with several times, is very ill with duodenal cancer - she's had some time in remission, but this period ended before Christmas - Andy isn't at all well, two other dear and elderly friends are in abruptly failing health and the grandson of another friend, a little boy of seven, is in hospital with pneumonia and pleurisy as a complication of a chest infection.  And one of the hairdressers at the salon I go to has just had to have her 8-month-old puppy put down as the result of an accident: he was hit by a car.  And an old blog friend has said that his marriage has ended, sadly but inevitably.

We're fine, though I had a frustrated afternoon searching for an important piece of paper that I'd put in a safe place.  I know, fatal.  I have got it now though, finally.  I've got to use it now to do some writing, so I mustn't be long here.  Admin problems are put into perspective by far more serious and distressing things happening around us.

To end on a more cheerful note, my hairdresser is expecting her first baby in June and is very happy about it.  She's only planning to take eight weeks off, but it's her own salon and the self-employed can't let go the reins for long.

News in moderately brief

1 Well, the Sage did get up this morning and took Ben for a walk, though it wasn't until nearly 8 o'clock.  I took advantage however and had a lie-in, though I didn't go back to sleep.  And later, Weeza rang to ask if I was happening to plan to go to Norwich this afternoon, because Zerlina's after-school childminder has the awful chest infection and bronchitis that I did (I reckon I had a mild dose, so many people are really ill).  I said, of course, that it would be a great pleasure to look after z for a few hours.  And so it was.  Darling little girl, she was lovely.  And I did a couple of odd jobs to save Weeza's time (or Phil's) in the evening, clearing and restacking the dishwasher and sorting and folding the dried laundry.  I asked what z had learned at school today that she hadn't known this morning, and she said that they had been taught about road safety.  So I suggested that she'd show me how to cross the road safely, which she did.  We'd just gained the kerb when a car came round the corner.  I asked her (knowing it wasn't entirely fair, she wouldn't have been told about it) what would happen if a car came round the corner when we were halfway across the road?  She considered the matter and told me that we'd both be run over and squashed flat.

2 Although I have hardly been to the cinema for several years, Elle's fine influence means that I've seen four of the films that won awards at the Oscars.  That is, Life of Pi, Django Unchained, Silver Linings Playbook and Skyfall.

3 Today there were the interviews for the new Rector.  Only one candidate, he and his wife are very likeable.  However, since it's considerate if he's successful for his parishes to know about it first, we won't be told for a while.  I suppose, if he isn't, we'll be told sooner.

4 I didn't arrive home until five to seven, but had dinner on the table by twenty past.  Simple mind you, sea bass, french beans and fried potatoes, the last taking the longest of course, since I had to peel and parboil them to start with.  I'm afraid there were awful air miles in the beans, but Tim had bought a boxful and, since the air miles had happened, my concern is to help Tim sell them all - that is, by buying some, because I know that he has to sell nearly all to make any profit at all.  Zerlina had pasta, ham, cheese, cucumber and red pepper for her tea.  And grapes.  I was going to give her spaghetti bolognaise, but she chose the cheese and ham instead.  Obviously, if I'd been cooking for the family, she'd have eaten what everyone else had, just in case you're wondering.

5 I wore a dress for the first time since we've been looking after Ben.  Every other day, I've worn jeans with increasingly muddy bottoms.  I mean bottoms of the legs of course, not bum level.  That isn't muddy.  It's not that it's warmer, just that I was being a bit sociable at lunchtime.  Tomorrow, I shall have my hair cut.  Jolly good, it grows surprisingly quickly and, although I rarely look in the mirror, I'm generally aware that I look a bit haphazard and scruffy much of the time.  I did get around to putting my rings on this morning though.  I take the view that a bit of bling takes the eye from my lack of personal grooming.  

Take five

Five things

1 Ben barked at 4 am.  I came down and let him out, he lifted his leg against a tree for some time, so needed to go.  However, when he barked again at 7 and I came down again (I'd still been awake at 6, and hadn't slept at all until after 2), he just wanted to play.  The Sage slept through it all.

2 I cooked him* a massive marrow bone on Saturday, gave it to him today and he was thrilled with it and spent a long time gnawing it out in the passageway.  The carpet out there is now rather greasy, but it's nasty old carpet tiles, only still there because they are so easy to lift and wash.  Ten years ago, my mother couldn't understand why I didn't get something better, but they're dirt-coloured and so useful.

3 The Sage has started buying me flowers.  It's been tulips the last couple of weeks and today he brought carnations, freesias and pink roses.  Very charming of him, but quite disconcerting after all these years.

4 I opened a bottle of red wine which had lost its label.  I found that the cork was marked La Croix St André Lalande-de-Pomerol 1979.  It is delicious.  Just as well I hadn't realised, I'd have saved it for a special occasion which might never arise.

5 I made soup of onion, celery and potato flavoured with cumin seeds, cooked in vegetable stock and milk.  It was very good.  And we had sausages too.  We'd had bacon and eggs for lunch, I'm going for lot of walks and am permanently cold as a result.

*Ben, not the Sage

Z sits back and watches television

I've finally realised why Ben is very like, but also very unlike Chester to look at.  He's like Chester in middle age, ten or so, not as he was as a young dog.  Chester was very skinny and whippy, it was the setter in him, and he was darker too when he was young.  Ben is much chunkier, though he's little more than a pup.

The Sage got up to use the loo at 6.30, which woke Ben and he barked to go out.  So I - yes, darlings, the Sage was ruthless about it - got up and walked into town rather earlier than expected.  It's not very far, not quite a mile and a half.

News about Ben's owners - Gill is finding it much easier to get about the bungalow using Andy's wheelchair and not trying to hop around with a walking frame.  Andy isn't too well, having developed an infection.  His health is precarious and Gill asked the nurse to contact his consultant rather than just give antibiotics, which might not be appropriate.  When she said the full name of his specific condition - a three-word phrase which I've forgotten - it was clear that the nurse wasn't familiar with it (not surprising, it's very rare) and was taking the situation seriously.

I've not done a stroke of work the last week.  I'll be sorry any day when it all catches up with me, but right now I'm feeling very okay about it.

Forty times Z

I also offered to write up the church rota for the next three months, which I used to do but is now Andy's job.  Sadly, there are so few of us now to do the necessary jobs that my first draft has my name down forty times.  Someone else is down fifteen times, another eleven and another three.  That's everything except the readings on Easter Sunday and the flowers, which I have a feeling will be done between two of us for the most part.  I should add that I'm waiting to hear back from two others and I expect they will take on a few readings, at least.  I'm down so often because, whatever else I do, I'll be playing the music until Andy is able to take his turn again.

I'm not sure if I've mentioned it, but our Rector left last autumn to take on a new parish.  Apparently, we have a candidate for the appointment and we're meeting him or her on Monday - I'm not very involved in church things, whatever it looks like, so the news has just caught up with me and I've been invited along (as has the Sage, but he has another engagement).  I don't really approve of the way church appointments are made.  The Bishop chooses the short list, which often comprises one candidate, then there's an interview, but it's very much a supervised affair, so the churchwardens and other interested people don't really have a free hand.  And, not seeing the applications, one isn't given background knowledge and there might be reasons for putting someone forward for a post that don't put the parish first.  I'm sure the Bishop tries very hard to put a round peg in a round hole, but more openness would be better, not least because plans could be made for mutual support before problems arise - which usually result in parishioners having found another church to attend or opted out altogether.  Of course it can work the other way and a successful minister gives a feeling of spiritual and/or practical support and encouragement, which brings more people in.  It's not just a matter of bums on pews, but if someone comes along once in a while, they're quite sniffy if there aren't fresh flowers, a warm church and an equally warm welcome, with a tidy and well-mown churchyard to boot, even if they never give time or money towards providing or supporting them.  Right now, we only have one service a month when we can be sure of having double figures in the congregation, and then there are often at least forty - but it's a family do, very informal, we serve breakfast first and, although the people who come love it, they wouldn't come every week because young families are busy on a Sunday.  And most of the older people - except for a few who come with their grandchildren - don't like it at all.  I don't mind, but I'm easy-going, and even I don't feel as if I've been to church.  Anyway, tomorrow I'll be reading the lessons at the short formal service beforehand, helping with coffee and breakfast and then playing the clarinet.  And you'll notice I've not mentioned God at all.  Nor am I going to.

If you've lasted this far, Ben is getting on very well.  His main fault is pulling hard on the lead, so I went and bought a Halti, which my mother found was marvellous with her dogs.  And it did stop him pulling, but he hated it and spent a fair bit of time trying to get it off him.  So later, just taking him for a quick trot round the village, I didn't have the heart to put it on him and, instead, used Tilly's extending lead, and that worked pretty well too.  Whichever I find is best, I hope to have him a lot more controllable by the time he goes back home - Gill is going to be quite nervous of walking him for a while.   He's pretty well behaved otherwise and has an exceptionally sweet nature.  I'll walk him into the town in the morning to fetch the Sunday papers, unless the weather is awful.

The lodger

Well, I gave it a bit of thought yesterday evening and asked the Sage if he'd mind if we offered to look after the dog until Andy is better.  He agreed at once, and this morning I had a text from Gill to say that she's broken her fibula, so I replied at once suggesting that we have Ben for the duration and she was relieved to agree.

And here he is.  Yes, the bit of mud on the carpet is from his paw.

It'll be for a couple of months and yes, before you say anything, we may end up with him.  I know that Gill finds him far too much, but they got him for Andy so it'll be up to him.  So for now, we're looking after him and will do so for as long as needed.

He looks very like Chester actually.  A bit heavier-built and not quite so red - Chester was an Irish setter/bearded collie cross and was more orange than copper-coloured.  I'm making it clear that I'm pack leader and he's really being very good (although he just peed on the rug, not having asked to go out).  He'll need a fair bit of exercise, I can see that I'm going to get fit whether I want to or not.

It never rains but...

Sometimes, it seems as if someone's luck has simply run out.  You remember my friend who, while on holiday a couple of years ago, became terribly ill and finally came home by air ambulance?  The hospital in Madeira treated him with antibiotics which nearly killed him and he was finally diagnosed with vasculitis, had to give up work (and so did his wife, to look after him) and he is permanently disabled, although he's come on very well since his diagnosis.

We went to his 60th birthday party last Saturday - they moved from a large house to a smaller bungalow just round the corner from us.  And I've just heard that he has had a fall and broken his ankle.  This is pretty serious of course because he now has terribly poor circulation.  In addition, he mustn't put weight on it but he hasn't the strength in his arms to bear his weight on crutches.  Even worse, his wife has hurt her own ankle while walking their dog, a young and boisterous golden retriever.

I've phoned and left a message - she's probably at the hospital.  I've offered to walk the dog for as long as necessary.  I don't mean one long walk, obv, but to take dog walking off their hands.  Or feet.  Oh dear.  Poor loves.  It's terribly worrying.

Update - have spoken to friend near Canterbury.  She has also had a fall, hurt her knee, which joint she had replaced a couple of years ago and landed smack on her face, which is a bit of a mess.  I've offered to go and fetch her, but she thinks she'll be okay.

If you have blessings, count 'em tonight, darlings.  

Today's quick fiver

Busy today, so five things -

1 We got up late so had to scramble to be ready to leave the house before ten for our meeting with the accountant, but arrived with two minutes to spare

1 We had a very useful meeting and have made constructive plans for our financial future

3 I went to fill the car and stopped at precisely £50, as intended

4 I cooked bacon, egg and tomato for lunch

5 The fire is drawing really well today, there's a log blazing splendidly in the grate

Sounds as if it's been a good day so far - and yes, it has.

Ztiff upper lip

I did go and look after Gus for the day.  He was better, but not right - temperature down but pale with shadows under his eyes.  Still, he was smiling and eating bread and Marmite when I arrived, so that was a big improvement on the day before.  Weeza had a very busy day at work, so it was a good job she went in - she works for someone who owns a great deal of land, including let cottages, farms and a business, and her job is managing the estate lettings etc. and being his PA - as it would have been very tricky for anyone else who didn't know the ropes.

There was quite a hard air frost this morning and the Sage cleared the windscreen of ice, then I did, then I had to stop halfway down the drive and clear it again as it froze as I drove.  It froze again in patches, but by sitting straight and tall I was able to look through a clear patch, and of course the de-mister sorted it out after a couple of miles.  Tall is a relative term of course, as you'll know if you've met me.  At least, with five grandchildren under 8 and Dora in the family (Dora is teeny as well as adorable), I'm no longer the shortest.

By lunchtime, Gus had perked up enough to eat a good helping of cucumber and red pepper while the pasta was cooking, which I served with pesto stirred in and grated cheese on top.  I know, darlings, the mark of the middle classes - indeed, I couldn't find the grater (turned out to be in the dishwasher) and so I shaved the cheese with the potato peeler, which is even worse.  Then he ate fromage frais and half a banana.  Which went further down the same route, but indicated he'd eaten a good lot overall,.  Then we went for a walk.  There's a nice little wood near their house, which I hadn't known about before.  Gus walked quite a long way, but if I held his hand he would suddenly pretend to stumble in a "Vic, I've fallen" way (which will only mean anything to you if you watched Vic Reeves' Big Night Out some 20 years ago.) and want to be stood up again, which was not amusing for me for quite as long as it was for him.  Eventually, I put him in his pushchair and in due course he fell asleep.  Sadly, he didn't stay asleep when I put him in his cot at home, but he was very good, only flagging for a bit at about 4.30.  I gave him bread and water, it seemed to do the trick.  I'd sung to him too, which he bore patiently.  I can hold a tune, though listeners sometimes mistake the tune I'm holding, but I'm no singer.  Nursery rhymes and music hall songs are mainly my repertoire, though I know quite a lot of tunes that I don't remember more words of than the first line.  Not only does it not interest me, but I can't hit the high notes, so am useless as there are gaps.*

He was a very good and loving little boy and, when I picked him up, he put his arms round me and hugged me tightly, making the hard carapace round my old and withered heart crack with love and almost soften.  So it's just as well that Weeza isn't working tomorrow, because I need to keep my defences up and two days could make me an emotional heap of affection.

*The alternative is singing alto.  'Nuff said.

Z thinks about springing into action

Today, we both slept through the alarm and I was half awake when my phone rang at ten past nine.  Better not keep that up or we'll sleep our lives away.  The Sage stayed in bed in fact, for another hour, though I got up and on with the day.

Weeza sent a text to say that Gus has a temperature and is still asleep, so she's had to take the day off work.  He's been under the weather but we hoped he was just teething.  I'm supposed to be in Norwich tomorrow, but if he's still not well I'll cancel and go and look after him instead.

Spring must be arriving because I've an urge to do some gardening.  This is quite disconcerting.  However, I might as well act on it.  In the first place, we need to consider what to do with the bantams. They've been completely free-range for the past couple of years and I've loved having them run up to the door every time I go out, but I'm afraid it's going to have to change.  They ruin the lawn: where I took out the old hedge, grass has never been able to grow because they scratch it up and they make holes in the lawn for their dust baths in the summer.  And they lay away and we hardly have any eggs at all.  So the Sage has gradually inveigled them into the big greenhouse and they're living there, nearly all of them, at present.  This can't last much longer of course, they'll be too hot as soon as the weather improves.

So, what we're talking about is maybe giving over half the kitchen garden to them.  I can't grow much, I haven't time for it all.  We've got the bungalow garden to look after now, and there's already more than we can do.  But I don't want to grow no vegetables at all, it's what I enjoy growing most of all, being greedy and fond of fresh vegetables.  So if we put some wire up, we can restrict them to some of the veg plot and they can roost in the greenhouse.  I don't need a 40 foot greenhouse at the moment, or at least I can do without the watering of it.  I'll still have the other greenhouse.  That is, we've two others, but one is derelict, I'm afraid.  We need to take a good look at it and see if we're going to resurrect it or not.  I used to have all of them full of plants and manage to find time for all the work too, but now it's not time so much as energy and determination.  I've lost interest.  And there's no point anyway, what would I do with half a dozen cucumbers, a couple of pounds of beans and far too many peas and courgettes, every day?  The picking of them would be a burden, even if I give them away.  I'm no good at the thing of sowing a pinch of everything each week, growing a sensible amount that we can cope with.  It doesn't suit me.  I do it on a bigger scale or not at all.  You've got to work with the kind of person you are, or can adapt yourself to be.

In other news...I've bought new telephones which have caller ID on them (that is, they'll be delivered within the next hour).  And from now on, the rule will be only to pick up the phone if we know who's on the other end, or at least if there's a number showing.  If someone is ex-directory, they'll have to leave a message and we'll phone them back.  There are so many cold calls, the Telephone Preference Service doesn't work any longer and I'm heartily fed up with it.  They always come at the most inconvenient times, and however terse one is in saying no thanks, it's a nuisance.  Mind you, the Sage will find it hard to resist.  He loves the telephone.

In other other news, it's car insurance renewal time again.  Oh damn.  The quote I've got from the company I use (LV) doesn't look bad, let's hope it turns out to be the best and I can simply renew.  All the trawling through different companies and price comparisons is so tedious, if necessary.  

Z gives a recipe

A couple of you have asked for the courgette recipe - it's very easy to do and I normally have all the ingredients - that is, if I use canned chickpeas and a jar of pesto.  I know, darlings, convenience food at every turn.

1 large onion
2 cloves garlic
4 tablespoons olive oil (I probably use less, there's always too much oil in recipes)
1 small aubergine
350g/12 oz courgettes (I probably use more, I like courgettes)
150 ml/1/4 pint vegetable stock (I use Marigold powder, unless I happen to have made some)
1 can chick peas
150 ml/1/4 pint double cream (crème frâiche would be fine)
2 tablespoons pesto (whatevs, put in what you like.  You'd want that much fresh pesto, but commercial jars vary so it's best to keep tasting)

Slice the onion into thin rings, cook gently in a tablespoonful of olive oil for about five minutes, then turn the heat up a bit and allow it to colour a little - about another 5 minutes.  Meanwhile, crush the garlic, dice the aubergine into 1 inch cubes and thinly slice the courgettes.  Add the rest of the oil and the prepared vegetables to the onion, cook, stirring, for five minutes, add the stock, cover and simmer for about 15 minutes.
Drain and rinse the chick peas, add to the pan, stir in the cream and pesto and add, with seasoning.  Cook for a few more minutes to heat through.

The recipe suggests spreading slices of baguette with garlic butter, topping with goat's cheese and putting on top of the courgette mixture, then grilling.  I've never done this, though I have put some cubes of feta or goat's cheese on top to melt in to my plateful if I've had this as a main course.

I often do the first part of the recipe earlier, then add the cream and pesto and reheat at the last.  The previous time I cooked it, Tim was out of aubergines, so I used sliced mushrooms instead which was fine.

The recipe is from 'Simply Good Food' by Katie Stewart and Caroline Young, who used to live in the village.  She and her husband Stuart were great friends of ours, but after he died she moved to Sussex and we've lost touch.

Elle sent me a text soon after 8 o'clock to say they'd arrived in Berlin.  We parted with warm hugs and promises to visit each other.  It's very quiet here tonight, but luckily I've got quite a lot on this week - not much of it work-related - so I'll keep busy and not be lonely.

Z's in the kitchen

Elle asked me to cook a proper English roast last night, so I did roast pork, because of the crackling.  Because it's one of those things that they tend not to do abroad (actually, I don't know if they do crackling in Germany) and it's marvellous.  I'd have done roast beef otherwise, but a good rib of beef for just six isn't easy unless you all like it cooked the same, more or less, and I like rare and the Sage likes overcooked, so we're stuck already.  Elle's mother, Vee, is mostly vegetarian so I did a substantial veggie side dish, courgettes and aubergines with chick peas, cream and pesto (if you came to the party last year you may have eaten it, it's one of my favourites) as well as roast potatoes and spinach, in case she'd prefer to avoid the pork, but in fact she did politely eat a small helping.

Then I made Queen of Puddings because it's such a very English pud and you hardly ever come across it in restaurants.  And I served English, French and German cheeses.  Vee remarked that she'd never eaten biscuits with cheese before.  I did consider the matter, but resolutely served cheese biscuits and served it after the pudding, not before.  Englishness was the point of the meal (I know the courgette dish wasn't very English, but the other point of being English is that we take good things from anywhere).

Elle also wanted a proper English breakfast, so we had bacon, eggs, sausages, mushrooms and tomatoes followed by toast with local honey and home-made marmalade.  Tonight, we are having fish and chips, from the chippy.  And tomorrow, they intend to head for the local cafe in search of brunch.  I've got to play the clarinet in church tomorrow, so i can't go with them, but I'll be back before it's time for them to head for Luton.

The birds really do think it's spring.  Maybe it is.

A Handful of Zedisms

A couple of bloggers are using the trick of remarking on five things that have happened that day - the idea came from Oprah Winfrey, apparently.  And since I have little time and less inspiration, that's what I'll do today.

1 There was a thrush singing in the pine tree by Kenny's shed this afternoon.  It had spring and nesting and suchlike in its mind, I could tell.

2 I measured myself today.  Bust a bit disappointingly small, waist ditto big, hips just right.

3 I went to get milk from the farm.  Jonny's Girls were being milked and, a few at a time, strolled relaxedly out afterwards, chewing the cud.  It has to be *the* cud, doesn't it?  You just can't say "the cow was chewing her cud," it sounds weird.

4 The Head's PA always makes me a cup of tea and tries to catch me out with the variety.  Today, she succeeded - it was Earl Grey with orange blossom.  Very pleasant.

5 Martina said such a nice thing to me in her letter last night, it quite made my morning when I woke up and read it.

Fully fledged

Year 7 have been doing Indian music this half term, which I have enjoyed very much.  Composition is not my forte, though I can advise young children on the principles, but the raga and the tala, at a fairly basic level (we're talking 11-year-olds), are within my capabilities.   They're a nice age group too, interested and not afraid to have a go - in a year or two, some of them will be too concerned about making a mistake and feeling silly, something I can sympathise with because I felt like that too, when I was young.

Elle is packing an overnight bag and in half an hour I'll drive her to the station to catch a train to London.  She'll meet her mother, who's been working in Paris so is coming over by Eurostar, and then they'll meet up with her father and sister, who are flying over.  Tomorrow, they'll all come back here where they will stay for a couple of nights.  And on Sunday, she'll leave us for good.  And the Sage and I will finally, after all these years, be empty-nesters.

Z overhears

When the Sage and I were eating our lunch on Sunday, two elderly ladies came and sat down at the next table.  They were obviously good friends who hadn't seen each other for a while and were catching up on news, and then the younger (or at least less doddery) one said that her son and his family had given her an iPad for Christmas.  They talked about it for some time, the friend being very impressed that she had learned to use email and she had a lot of questions.  "It's such fun!" the lucky iPad owner told her.  "And it's easier to use than you'd think.  I can't quite remember my email address yet, but lots of people write to me and I've learned to reply to them."  "How much did it cost?" "About £400, I think."  "That's a lot of money."  "Yes, it is - well, it's a lot to me.  I was so excited when I opened it on Christmas Day.  I couldn't believe my luck!"

And I had tears in my eyes by this time.  But then I'm notoriously soppy.

Z eats out

Family friendships that continue down the generations are especially lovely, I think.  I've mentioned one or two before, such as Pam and Peter, whom I went to Corfu with last year.  And the other day, we had a phone call from Fenella, whose grandparents were great friends with the Sage's parents and whose dad is Ro's godfather (or dogdaddy, as he used to say as a very little boy).  She was going to be in the area for a hen weekend and wondered if we might be free on the Sunday evening?  We said we'd pick her up and take her out for supper.

Well.  Best laid plans ... would have been better if we'd done a bit more checking.  We picked her up from the wilderness beyond Diss and set off to find a pub.  An hour later - honestly, there were no pubs to be seen in miles! - we finally found one.  And it was closed.  Finally, we aimed for Diss itself, where all of one pub was open and it didn't serve food.  The Chinese takeaway was open! - and it had a restaurant!! - and it was fully booked¡¡¡ for the Chinese New Year!¡!¡ but the very nice waitress relented and said that we could have a table if we could please eat up and leave within half an hour.  Which we did, and many thanks to them for a very good meal, exceptionally quickly served.  And Happy Year of the Snake.

And today, to celebrate my more-or-less return to eating, we went out to lunch - I know, darlings, boundless enthusiasm for fun and jollity and ha-ha-ha-ha - and in view of the perfectly horrid weather (and that I can't eat much) we had soup, mine was carrot and the Sage's tomato and red pepper.  And the Sage bought me tulips, which was very nice of him.

I have also seized control of life by phoning an agency and arranging for two cleaners to come and spend an afternoon here tomorrow.  They don't know what's going to hit 'em - this is a beast of a house to keep clean, and I've not been equal to the effort for the last few weeks.  Once it's done, I should be able to keep it going for months again.  I've come to the conclusion that this probably suits me better than having someone in to do a bit every week.

Tubular circles

The party seems to have been a success.  Half a dozen girls and one boy (the boyfriend of one of them) stayed until noon to clean the bungalow thoroughly, which seems a bit depressingly gender-clichéd - I should say, a number stayed over, don't know how many.  I went out to sidesman at the early service, then into town to pick up the paper and, coming back down the drive, one lad was just setting off on foot.  I picked him up, turned the car round and drove him into town.  A completely unsuitable denim jacket, he'd have been freezing.

My long hours of sleep have come to their natural conclusion and I slept for less than an hour and a half last night, disappointingly.

Baz the Rev was telling an anecdote about a recent visit to London, where he was quite disconcerted to be offered a seat by a young man on the Tube.  I laughed hollowly and said I'd had the same thing happen myself and been grateful to accept it (I'm some years younger than Baz) - and I know I told you the most recent times because it was when I had a bad hip (though it was usually on the bus, because I couldn't manage all the walking required on Tube journeys) - but I can't remember whether or not I've ever told you about the first time it happened.  And if I can't, odds are you can't either.

I had taken Ro to London for a day out - he was quite a little boy, four or so.  It might have been before he started school, that being the reason El and Al weren't with us.  We'd had a splendid day, though I can't remember what we'd done - probably his first visit to the Natural History Museum.  We had walked a long way and we were both ready to flop.  And we got onto the train and there was just one seat.  I looked at him.  "You sit down," I told him, "You're more tired than I am."  So he did, and a young man was sitting opposite him, wearing one of those massive rucksacks that goes right up behind your head, and I know that if I tried one of them I'd flounder under it and lie on my back like a stranded ladybird.  But he leapt up and offered me his seat.  I was embarrassed, said it was quite all right, but he was insistent, so I sat down.  Then, of course, I had to tell Ro to get up and give him his seat.  Then I invited Ro to come and sit on my lap.  It was the most farcical comedy of good manners you could imagine, heaven knows what the rest of the carriage thought about it.  

Z zzzzzzs

Well, now I see what happens when I take advice to rest, I'll probably never do it again.  Once I started sleeping, I couldn't stop.  I spent the whole of yesterday in bed, most of it asleep.

The house needs a good clean and I can't face the thought of it, I'm going to phone an agency on Monday and hope to book a cleaner to sort it out.  Of course, it'll still be a fair bit of work for me, because some tidying is required too (the Sage doesn't do tidying, untidying is his speciality) but it'll be no end of a help.

Elle and her friend Em are having their party in the bungalow tonight.  I've no idea how many are going to turn up, but it could be a fair foo, as we say in Norfolk.  I've hauled myself up to the attic to adjust the heating (the idiot who thought the place to put the boiler was the wrong side of a loft ladder is cursed regularly) and provided loo rolls, teabags, paper plates and disposable cups and I took them to the Co-op to do some shopping, though I didn't quite feel up to going in with them.  I'll toddle through in a few minutes and ask if there's anything else I can do.

Oh, I weighed myself this morning.  I've lost - well, I've lost about four pounds since the last time I weighed myself, which was on 1st January, but when one takes into account the amount of January chocolate that was eaten, it's probably nearer half a stone in the last few days.  Actually, I weigh exactly what I want to weigh.  That is, about half a stone more than I was comfortable with back in my youth, but I've reached the age when being too thin goes to the face.  Also, one needs resilience - just think, if I'd been an 8-stone weakling at the start of this, I'd hardly be able to stand up now.

Z was too polite

I grew up before the days of routine snacks and treats.  We had three square meals a day and that was reckoned to be quite enough, although there was always fruit and, if hungry, we would be welcome to have some cheese or something similar.  My mother discouraged sweets and chocolate and a packet of crisps was a rare pleasure (Smith's Crisps, with the salt in a twist of blue paper, of course).

Once, however, I caught a bad dose of 'flu.  Actually, it started when I was sick.  Crossing the hall, I suddenly threw up onto the parquet floor.  And, rough though I felt  - ooh, this blog is going to be a confessional again, I've never told anyone this - I was so polite - so polite - that I cleared it up before going to tell my mother, and I didn't mention that I'd been taken by surprise and let her assume I'd made it to the lavatory.  I was probably about 12 at the time.  I was not afraid of her, she was the soul of loving kindness to me, it was embarrassment at having made an unpleasant mess and a reluctance for someone else to have to clear it up.

Anyway, I was duly tucked up in bed and later, trying to tempt my appetite, my mother brought a trayful of little bowls of snacks.  A few grapes, some crisps, sweets, nuts, all sorts of things. And I have the clearest memory of gazing at them all, treats beyond all my dreams, and not being able to eat any of them.

I was ill for several days, almost delirious that first night, but eventually started eating again of course.  And the frustrating thing was that it didn't occur to her to produce the goodies again, when I'd have been able to enjoy them.  And, of course, I was far too polite to ask.

Z looks forward

A good twelve hours in bed wasn't quite enough to put me right, but the short nap I took after taking Elle to school was.  I didn't go to the lecture, which I'm really disappointed to have missed, but I seem to be fine except for an inability to eat meals.  Chocolate biscuits and cake - and a green salad for supper - seem to go down all right.  Oh, and I've lost the taste for alcohol.  I trust that is temporary.

Elle brought home her report yesterday and a paper for me to sign confirming she is leaving the school. Each of her teachers had to sign it too and all of them said they'd refuse to do so if it meant that she'd stay.  I think it's fair to say that she's popular.  She's done wonderfully well, moving to a foreign country and staying with a succession of strangers, most regularly with a couple old enough to be her grandparents - well, in the Sage's case, great-grandparent - and taking several subjects and being successful in them.  She's coming back in the summer to take the second part of her Psychology AS Level, in fact.  And she may well come back again in July to go with her friends to go to the Latitude festival.  I suspect this will depend on whether her parents stump up the money for a ticket...  As for me, she assures me that her whole family loves me, whether they've met me or not.  That is, I've only met her dad as yet, though her mum and sister will be coming to stay at the end of next week.

The tickets for the Aldeburgh concerts have arrived, which is very cheering.  I haven't been for a while, maybe three or four years, and I never used to miss going there.  I didn't always go to the Festival, though, because June is a busy month - it will be again, but no matter.  Concerts at the Proms in August were easier to be sure I'd be able to go to.  For some years, it was very difficult to go away on holiday at all, and I treated Snape concerts as my summer holiday and went to as many as possible.

Z feels wobbly

Well, that was embarrassing.  I've been going into lessons at school this week, and today was a Food Tech lesson - it's not that I'm linked to that department but that I've been looking at Teaching Assistants.  I'd not met the teacher before, though I knew her by sight, and she was very charming and friendly and showed me one girl's portfolio of written work, which took about ten minutes, and then offered to take me into the kitchen to see the cooking being done.  I said I'd love to, but I was afraid I needed to sit down for a few minutes first because I felt a bit faint (though there was no 'bit' about it, I had about 15 seconds before I'd have keeled over.

I've got a chest infection and have been exceptionally busy, and this morning I had been up and down several staircases and been outside without a coat on, and then I went into a warm room and was almost undone.  I had to sit there, head on table, for quite some time.  The teacher wanted to call for help for me, but it wasn't necessary - anyway, eventually I felt well enough to go into the other room and soon after I recovered and was able to do the nosy governor bit.

However, I am going to bed early and staying there for twelve hours.  Approx.  I've got a busy couple of days ahead again and there's nothing I can easily miss.  Well, there is one thing I can miss, a Nadfas lecture in the morning, but I don't want to.

It's just occurred to me - maybe it's blogging withdrawal symptoms.  H'm.

Love and sympathy to Pat

I had a post planned for this evening, but plans have changed since reading about our dear friend Pat's loss.  Pat is my oldest (in terms of long standing) blog friend: she left the first ever comment here, nearly seven years ago.  Many of us have read her wonderful account of her and MTL's love story and know how they have appreciated every minute of their years together.  

Z doesn't look ahead

Wink and I went over to have lunch with Weeza and Gus today.  The Sage was invited to come, but got cold feet at the thought of all that togetherness and asked to be dropped off in Norwich instead, coming home on the bus during the afternoon.

I'm not going to fuss about the Hon Sec situation.  The AGM is at the end of March, but the next meeting is in October and, if the worst happens and I don't have anyone to take over from me this spring (I think someone will come along) then there's another chance in the autumn.  Not fussing is best.

Having said that, I had a bit of a heart to heart with Wink this evening that made me cry - again.  I'm afraid the waterworks have been turned on all too much of late.  In this instance, it was age-related...I'm approaching the age at which my father died.  If I live to the 25th March (disregarding Leap Years, I haven't done the math, as they say) I'll have outlived my father.  This gives me no feeling of satisfaction, rather the opposite.  Wink said the same: that she was very aware of her age at that time. We both adored him and he died far too young.  I'm so grateful that she was able to share my feelings and wish she'd been able to say the same a few years ago, though I don't know if I'd have quite understood.  Maybe some of you do.

Gus, in the last week, has gone from walking if you held his hand, and crawling for the sake of speed otherwise, to choosing to walk and being thrilled by the ability, in the week since I saw him last.  He's such a cheerful little boy, great fun.  His big sister is the same - very happy to have won one of the weekly class awards, the one for being kind and friendly and generally helpful (Angel), for the third time.  She's won the one for hard work and progress (Diamond) once, there's the biggest award (can't remember what it's called) that she hasn't won yet but, her birthday being at the end of August, she's the youngest in the school and it's marvellous that she's getting on so well and is happy.

Weeza and Phil's car was in the garage for a service today and they'd explained they had an appointment at 4.30 so it was vital the car was returned by 4 at latest.  5.15 it was returned, what a good job that I was there so they could use my car.  I have Weeza as a named driver, but she'd have been 3rd party insured anyway.  Not that the garage knew that.  Pfft.