It has really been a very sad week, and today was the most distressing of all. At the end of last week, one of the school caretakers had a severe stroke and he died on Tuesday. His wife also works at the school, so it was more personally upsetting for many of the staff. I interviewed him for the job, he was a really nice man and we always greeted each other in a friendly way.
Worse, however, was the news today. The head teacher phoned me this morning to say that a student had been found dead at his home by his father. He was 16, went to the Norfolk Show yesterday with his family and went for a shower when they arrived home. When he didn't come down again, his dad went looking for him. I knew him from early childhood, though hadn't spoken to him for years, he was a pupil at the village school. I always greeted his mother in the town, a very sweet woman. One cannot begin to imagine what it could be like. I will write to Aaron's parents of course, but there is no comfort for them from me or anyone.
What is worst? Early miscarriage or late, death of a baby or a child or a young person? Being widowed young or very old? The death of a child or of a parent? Each is devastating, you cannot quantify it and yet, in some ways, surely this must be one of the worst things to happen, a young person who should have so much ahead of him, who dies so suddenly, from no illness or accident.
Thursday, 30 June 2011
Wednesday, 29 June 2011
Brooding and ruminating
The brown hen has been coming into the porch for the last couple of weeks to lay her eggs. The other day, the Sage went outside and shut the door, not realising she was in there and I found her a while later, pacing anxiously. Today, I heard a sound at the door and thought it was the postman. I went out to discover that she was tapping from the outside, wanting to come in. Later, I needed to go out myself and checked, and was rather dismayed to find her sitting, blissed out, in the straw-lined box that the Sage had kindly left for her. I didn't want to leave her, and I don't want her going broody in such an inconvenient place (it gets very hot in there in the morning) so I picked her up, plonked her outside and left a handful of corn. Fortunately, she stood up after a couple of minutes and began to eat it. I've warned the Sage to keep an eye on her, but sometimes you can't stop a chicken getting broody. I feel so sorry for them, sitting on eggs that will never hatch.
In other animal news, I didn't mention that Big Pinkie came to stay yesterday. No. 400 is still here and they settled down together at once, both being placid and friendly. Pinkie comes to the gate to be fed apples, as she always used to. The grass has started to grow nicely after the rain, and the two of them wander round the field finding good grazing spots together. It's all very comfortable and bucolic.
In other animal news, I didn't mention that Big Pinkie came to stay yesterday. No. 400 is still here and they settled down together at once, both being placid and friendly. Pinkie comes to the gate to be fed apples, as she always used to. The grass has started to grow nicely after the rain, and the two of them wander round the field finding good grazing spots together. It's all very comfortable and bucolic.
Tuesday, 28 June 2011
All night long
The forecast rain arrived around half past three. A few minutes earlier, the Sage used my phone to try to ring the auctioneers in Woodbridge and came through here to say the damn phone didn't work. I tried the number and I couldn't get through either, but it didn't seem to be the phone. All the same, I suggested he use the landline and there was a ringing tone and the receptionist answered. Asked if there was a fault, she explained that there had been a power cut during a storm. A couple of minutes later, as they were still talking, the storm reached here and our own electricity was cut off. And a few minutes later Weeza, with whom I'd been exchanging emails, said that she was saving her work in case there was a power cut when the oncoming storm hit. So I can confidently say that it was moving south to north.
As usual when there is heavy rain, it leaked in above the window near my desk. I keep a towel on the windowsill, but had to get a couple more to deal with all the drips. And then the phone rang. People do choose their moments.
I grumbled to the Sage and he explained what needed to be done to stop the leaks happening again. "So you know? Couldn't it have been done already, we've lived here 25 years," I rather tactlessly enquired. It is quite heartrending, watching the Sage appearing abashed. He has promised to do it, or get it done, I'm not sure which.
Most dismayingly, I've been quite off alcohol in this humid weather. One night, I just drank water, and other nights a single glass of wine has been enough. I trust that this state of affairs doesn't last too long. The evenings seem to drag on forever.
As usual when there is heavy rain, it leaked in above the window near my desk. I keep a towel on the windowsill, but had to get a couple more to deal with all the drips. And then the phone rang. People do choose their moments.
I grumbled to the Sage and he explained what needed to be done to stop the leaks happening again. "So you know? Couldn't it have been done already, we've lived here 25 years," I rather tactlessly enquired. It is quite heartrending, watching the Sage appearing abashed. He has promised to do it, or get it done, I'm not sure which.
Most dismayingly, I've been quite off alcohol in this humid weather. One night, I just drank water, and other nights a single glass of wine has been enough. I trust that this state of affairs doesn't last too long. The evenings seem to drag on forever.
Monday, 27 June 2011
Making a start
Weeza's entry into the world of antiques came rather younger than Ro's. When she was six or seven weeks old, the Sage helped his friends Norman and Barbara, about whom I wrote last week, with their stall at an antiques fair at Earls Court for two or three days. We took down our Victorian mahogany swinging cradle for her to sleep in, because six week old babies sleep mostly, don't they - well, we were young and naive and knew no better.
She did sleep some of the time, but it was rather exhausting for me, nowhere to sit comfortably and I can't remember where I retreated to when I needed to feed her. However, she was very popular with the visitors, and quite a draw for our stand.
You know how it is, that people always say the same witticism as each other? Like, when you're seen kneeling, it's "say one for me while you're down there." If you are working in your garden, you are cordially invited to tackle the speaker's flowerbed when you have done. On that occasion, most people asked, if they bought the cradle, did the baby come free? There were two or three other jovial remarks that were repeated rather a lot of times, can't remember what they were at the moment. You may have some ideas yourself. One actually did make me laugh, however. A man peered into the cot and observed "That's not an antique. It's a reproduction."
She did sleep some of the time, but it was rather exhausting for me, nowhere to sit comfortably and I can't remember where I retreated to when I needed to feed her. However, she was very popular with the visitors, and quite a draw for our stand.
You know how it is, that people always say the same witticism as each other? Like, when you're seen kneeling, it's "say one for me while you're down there." If you are working in your garden, you are cordially invited to tackle the speaker's flowerbed when you have done. On that occasion, most people asked, if they bought the cradle, did the baby come free? There were two or three other jovial remarks that were repeated rather a lot of times, can't remember what they were at the moment. You may have some ideas yourself. One actually did make me laugh, however. A man peered into the cot and observed "That's not an antique. It's a reproduction."
Sunday, 26 June 2011
Bid for Fivedom
I was reminded, by reading Mike and Ann's blog today, of the first time that I bid at one of the major auction houses and that, in turn, reminded me of when Ro started his buying career. I told Mike that he was three or four, but I have checked the details with the Sage now, who looked up the sale and Ro was actually five, and the sale was in May 1990 at Sotheby's. Hug0 M0rley-F1etcher was the auctioneer (he still appears as an expert on Ant1ques R0adsh0w). The Sage and Ro sat at the front and, when the desired item came up, the Sage touched Ro's elbow and up went his hand. The bidding went up and up - they nearly got the piece quite cheaply, but then a fresh bidder came in and the price doubled in a few minutes. It was a sparrowbeak jug in a Mandarin pattern, we still have it. Finally, the auctioneer's hammer went down. "Sold!" he said, pointing, "to this young gentleman." Ro held up the card with the bidder number. After the auction was over, the Sage told Ro to go and thank the auctioneer ... and ask for a catalogue - the charge should have been £12 but he was given it.
Ro often went with his father to view sales in London. At that time, we used to buy a family railcard and could take the children for £1 each. We used to blithely let Ro handle the china, when he was very little this caused some anxiety once in a while, as he was reluctant to let go and had to be distracted - though it rarely happened, he was very good. I remember once, I showed him a life-size china greyhound when he wasn't quite ready to give me an item.
There was another sale that we viewed in Woodbridge in 1986, when he was not yet two years old. There was a Lowestoft birth tablet in that sale and he was very tickled with it. He picked it up and held it to his chest. "Badge!" he said. That was a rather worried moment before I was able to remove it from his hand. It later sold, not to us, for £4,200 (this was a quarter of a century ago, remember, it has probably quadrupled in value now).
Ro never dropped or damaged anything and, remarkably now I look back, none of the staff ever suggested that it was the least unwise, letting him handle valuable china. It would have been our responsibility if anything had been broken, of course. He was, genuinely, extremely careful and trustworthy. All our children handled china, almost from babyhood, and nothing was ever dropped.
Oddly enough, now he of our children has least to do with the china at our auctions. He is in charge of the computer, registering the potential bidders, filling in the prices realised and printing the invoices. Weeza helps at the view, taking china to be looked at and handled, and Al holds up each piece during the auction for people to be sure what they are bidding for. None of them collects art or antiques, although Weeza, in particular, is pretty knowledgeable about Lowestoft china.
*I really hoped that he was three years old, and had the post title planned. Still, wouldn't want to waste it.
Ro often went with his father to view sales in London. At that time, we used to buy a family railcard and could take the children for £1 each. We used to blithely let Ro handle the china, when he was very little this caused some anxiety once in a while, as he was reluctant to let go and had to be distracted - though it rarely happened, he was very good. I remember once, I showed him a life-size china greyhound when he wasn't quite ready to give me an item.
There was another sale that we viewed in Woodbridge in 1986, when he was not yet two years old. There was a Lowestoft birth tablet in that sale and he was very tickled with it. He picked it up and held it to his chest. "Badge!" he said. That was a rather worried moment before I was able to remove it from his hand. It later sold, not to us, for £4,200 (this was a quarter of a century ago, remember, it has probably quadrupled in value now).
Ro never dropped or damaged anything and, remarkably now I look back, none of the staff ever suggested that it was the least unwise, letting him handle valuable china. It would have been our responsibility if anything had been broken, of course. He was, genuinely, extremely careful and trustworthy. All our children handled china, almost from babyhood, and nothing was ever dropped.
Oddly enough, now he of our children has least to do with the china at our auctions. He is in charge of the computer, registering the potential bidders, filling in the prices realised and printing the invoices. Weeza helps at the view, taking china to be looked at and handled, and Al holds up each piece during the auction for people to be sure what they are bidding for. None of them collects art or antiques, although Weeza, in particular, is pretty knowledgeable about Lowestoft china.
*I really hoped that he was three years old, and had the post title planned. Still, wouldn't want to waste it.
Saturday, 25 June 2011
Z and the Sage dance
It's really warm tonight, I think I shall have to make some alternative bedclothes arrangements or we will spend the night throwing off the duvet and panting. And not in a good way.
We have just got home from a party, a joint 70th wedding anniversary. That is, 40 years for one couple and 30 for the other. We have known all four of them for a very long time and saw a lot of friends, including our last Rector and his wife and daughter. They are really good friends, the sort that you just catch up with at once, however long ago that you saw them.
And yes, we did dance. Energetically (barn dancing, with a caller) and I am shockingly puffed out. Still, my hips are fine, so I am more than happy.
In fact, the release of tension has made me so relaxed and cheerful that I keep finding myself with a big grin on my face. It's too soon though really, I have a lot to do in the next month.
That reminds me, and will bring me right down to earth again, it's Ro's birthday in a month's time. No idea what he might like as a present. I'll go off and worry for a while before bedtime.
We have just got home from a party, a joint 70th wedding anniversary. That is, 40 years for one couple and 30 for the other. We have known all four of them for a very long time and saw a lot of friends, including our last Rector and his wife and daughter. They are really good friends, the sort that you just catch up with at once, however long ago that you saw them.
And yes, we did dance. Energetically (barn dancing, with a caller) and I am shockingly puffed out. Still, my hips are fine, so I am more than happy.
In fact, the release of tension has made me so relaxed and cheerful that I keep finding myself with a big grin on my face. It's too soon though really, I have a lot to do in the next month.
That reminds me, and will bring me right down to earth again, it's Ro's birthday in a month's time. No idea what he might like as a present. I'll go off and worry for a while before bedtime.
Friday, 24 June 2011
Looking back
Today has been quieter. I've been catching up with emails and typing. I went in to the school at lunchtime, walked around the field with the Head (he does the rounds every day and he happened to be going out as I arrived) and I saw the people I wanted to. Hugs and chats and so on, and then I called in at the village school on the way home. It had an inspection the week before we did, and now the news is official, that they have received 'good with outstanding features," which is marvellous. I love that school, I was a governor there for 18 years and it will always be dear to me, although I left five years ago. Don't feel obliged, but if you want to read the report, it's here. This is an evaluation under the current framework and ours is under the new one, we're one of 150 schools in the pilot.
We are having a piece of ground paved over, it's on the east side of the house, open to the south but shaded from mid-afternoon. The chickens having taken over the lawn, we tend not to sit and eat out there any more, so I suggested using this sheltered area instead. I suspect we will use it during the day and, if we want to sit out, will go round the other side of the house in the evening, but we haven't time for that at present anyway.
We had some sharp sand delivered and the Sage took the driver out a cup of tea and chatted for a few minutes. The tray is one that my mother-in-law had made for us when Weeza and Al were little, with photos set in - nearly all of Weeza, actually. In one of them, the Sage's father, Pa, was holding her and the driver recognised him. The Sage was really pleased to share memories.
It was one of our better decisions, moving here to the Sage's childhood home.
We are having a piece of ground paved over, it's on the east side of the house, open to the south but shaded from mid-afternoon. The chickens having taken over the lawn, we tend not to sit and eat out there any more, so I suggested using this sheltered area instead. I suspect we will use it during the day and, if we want to sit out, will go round the other side of the house in the evening, but we haven't time for that at present anyway.
We had some sharp sand delivered and the Sage took the driver out a cup of tea and chatted for a few minutes. The tray is one that my mother-in-law had made for us when Weeza and Al were little, with photos set in - nearly all of Weeza, actually. In one of them, the Sage's father, Pa, was holding her and the driver recognised him. The Sage was really pleased to share memories.
It was one of our better decisions, moving here to the Sage's childhood home.
Thursday, 23 June 2011
Pulling teeth and drawing blood
A dentist appointment* and a blood donation session in the days when Ofsted visited has become my metaphor for the experience.
So, yesterday I, with other governors, had the Interview, and I've been in this afternoon to hear the verdict - which I am not at liberty to tell you, at present, so please don't ask or speculate, because it really is confidential for the next few days.
And today, to take my mind off things, I helped clear by the hedge on the front field. The brambles have built up badly for several years and, now that the partridges and pheasants have nested, it seemed a good time to get rid of them and let light and air through to the mostly hawthorn hedge. In the afternoon, they moved on to the other hedge, along by the road (although still the field side, the road side is kept tidy).
About 10 or 12 feet of rubbish has been taken out. We will, of course, still encourage wildlife, and birds to nest. But the grass is in poor condition and will be improved by grazing, so we are going to fence the field, provide water (there is a stand pipe nearby) and have some cows or sheep on there for a while.
An oak that the Sage planted as a small sapling some years ago is doing well, and a self-seeded oak, only about three feet high, is down in the corner near the road end, but far enough away from the wall, the hedge and the road that it is never going to be in the way, so we will protect it from the animals and leave it to grow.
*No teeth were drawn or even filled, it was just a check-up - I couldn't have given blood if I'd had work done of course.
So, yesterday I, with other governors, had the Interview, and I've been in this afternoon to hear the verdict - which I am not at liberty to tell you, at present, so please don't ask or speculate, because it really is confidential for the next few days.
And today, to take my mind off things, I helped clear by the hedge on the front field. The brambles have built up badly for several years and, now that the partridges and pheasants have nested, it seemed a good time to get rid of them and let light and air through to the mostly hawthorn hedge. In the afternoon, they moved on to the other hedge, along by the road (although still the field side, the road side is kept tidy).
An oak that the Sage planted as a small sapling some years ago is doing well, and a self-seeded oak, only about three feet high, is down in the corner near the road end, but far enough away from the wall, the hedge and the road that it is never going to be in the way, so we will protect it from the animals and leave it to grow.
*No teeth were drawn or even filled, it was just a check-up - I couldn't have given blood if I'd had work done of course.
Wednesday, 22 June 2011
Sweeping clean
The day never starts well with a dental appointment ... still, just a check-up and nothing needs to be done. If it had been, I'd have had to cancel tomorrow's blood-letting. Dear oh dear, feels like a draining week.
I arrived home to find Al's old Morris Minor (it is old, although not as old as I am) out of its garage. Mike was taking it away to have a look at it. Al has decided to sell it. This is a big decision, it was his 17th birthday present and gosh, that is over half his lifetime ago.
*sits and ponders*
Anyway, it still has its original number plate, it's quite possible that it is more valuable than the car is.
It's a bit dusty.
I arrived home to find Al's old Morris Minor (it is old, although not as old as I am) out of its garage. Mike was taking it away to have a look at it. Al has decided to sell it. This is a big decision, it was his 17th birthday present and gosh, that is over half his lifetime ago.
*sits and ponders*
It's a bit dusty.
Tuesday, 21 June 2011
An old broom
I'm looking out of the window at a broom in flower - not the sort you sweep the floor with, the plant broom, obviously. I grew it from seed about 20 years ago. I grew several, in fact, and I think this is the last one left. It has grown into a small tree, which was rather unexpected as the rest stayed bushy and not very tall. This one is 15 or 20 feet high.
If I had known it would grow so tall, I wouldn't have planted it there. It's not in the way, exactly, but now it overhangs the phone line. And, when it was windy a couple of weeks ago, a branch (that did not overhang the phone line) broke. The wood split so it is still attached, and we can see, at the join, that there is a small amount of rot. We haven't cut it off yet, it was in bud at the time so I thought it might as well flower. It's looking rather pretty - the rest of the tree, that is - with a rather mimosa-esque air. However, I think that we have had a warning and I'm afraid that severe pruning is in order. It will sprout again; it has where we removed one branch that showered Dilly with rain regularly, as it was just above where she parks her car. However, it will look fairly unattractive for quite some time.
I haven't reported progress on the drive project for some time. It's all been rather bitty. We need to get everything done as far as possible to the same extent before the whole thing is completed. However, progress is being made and yesterday, the Sage and I walked around the garden deciding on priorities for the next jobs. Richard is coming with his digger tomorrow, and both he and Jamie will be along on Thursday and Friday, so we can get a lot done.
It is indeed costing a lot, but we've not spent much here for years, so it's about time. Once the last of one's children grow up, leave home and become financially independent, one realises how much they used to cost. The garden can receive the benefit this year.
The whole garden, never mind the drive project, is rather bitty and so will never be a thing of great beauty. It will be reasonably pretty, in parts, and enjoyable for children to play in because there are nice little hidden-away areas plus open spaces, it will still attract wildlife because there are large parts that we will leave as much as possible, and the chickens will still be free to roam anywhere but the vegetable garden. I will, no doubt, be very frustrated when they eat my flowers, but I'd rather have happy chickens than flowers. The new border will, if necessary, have shrubs rather than herbacious perennials in it. I can grow them in the vegetable garden. That is bigger than we need, now I don't grow anything for Al to sell.
Oh, and there is a low wall for me to build. I'm looking forward to that. It won't be a decorative one, or even a barrier. It's just to stop the lawn falling on to the drive and will be no more than a foot high.
If I had known it would grow so tall, I wouldn't have planted it there. It's not in the way, exactly, but now it overhangs the phone line. And, when it was windy a couple of weeks ago, a branch (that did not overhang the phone line) broke. The wood split so it is still attached, and we can see, at the join, that there is a small amount of rot. We haven't cut it off yet, it was in bud at the time so I thought it might as well flower. It's looking rather pretty - the rest of the tree, that is - with a rather mimosa-esque air. However, I think that we have had a warning and I'm afraid that severe pruning is in order. It will sprout again; it has where we removed one branch that showered Dilly with rain regularly, as it was just above where she parks her car. However, it will look fairly unattractive for quite some time.
I haven't reported progress on the drive project for some time. It's all been rather bitty. We need to get everything done as far as possible to the same extent before the whole thing is completed. However, progress is being made and yesterday, the Sage and I walked around the garden deciding on priorities for the next jobs. Richard is coming with his digger tomorrow, and both he and Jamie will be along on Thursday and Friday, so we can get a lot done.
It is indeed costing a lot, but we've not spent much here for years, so it's about time. Once the last of one's children grow up, leave home and become financially independent, one realises how much they used to cost. The garden can receive the benefit this year.
The whole garden, never mind the drive project, is rather bitty and so will never be a thing of great beauty. It will be reasonably pretty, in parts, and enjoyable for children to play in because there are nice little hidden-away areas plus open spaces, it will still attract wildlife because there are large parts that we will leave as much as possible, and the chickens will still be free to roam anywhere but the vegetable garden. I will, no doubt, be very frustrated when they eat my flowers, but I'd rather have happy chickens than flowers. The new border will, if necessary, have shrubs rather than herbacious perennials in it. I can grow them in the vegetable garden. That is bigger than we need, now I don't grow anything for Al to sell.
Oh, and there is a low wall for me to build. I'm looking forward to that. It won't be a decorative one, or even a barrier. It's just to stop the lawn falling on to the drive and will be no more than a foot high.
Monday, 20 June 2011
Norman
I can't remember if I said, a few weeks ago, there was a programme about Morecambe and Wise and we were really pleased when they showed a short clip of an episode in which a friend of ours appeared. It prompted me to Google his name and, on IMDB, I found out which episode it was. I promptly ordered that series from Amazon and squirrelled it away for a suitable occasion. When Ro was at a loss for a birthday present for his father, I offered it to him.
Norman and Barbara were dear friends of the Sage's. They had an antique shop in London and often did business together; the Sage was a full-time auctioneer at that time and they bought a good deal of stuff from him. Norman's day, or rather evening, job was musician; he was a pianist and a composer and played at all sorts of events, night clubs, variety shows, the Ritz - he was the pianist there too, although I don't think he ever overshadowed the soup and annoyed the chef to the point of violence*, he was far too considerate for that.
The year before I married the Sage, Norman and Barbara's daughter Carole had her 21st birthday party at the Ritz and the Sprig** was a guest. One of the highlights of his social life, that was, it was fabulous. And the first time he took me to London on my own (we had gone there with his friend Arthur the week before to an art exhibition), sort of our first date, he took me to their shop to introduce me to them. They were highly intrigued, he had never been seen by them with a woman before, and along he came with an extremely young girl (well, compared to him, that is) who hardly said a word, and no explanation!
Anyway, Norman died some years ago and Barbara is in her 80s now and has recently moved house to live near Carole, and we phone each other a couple of times a year. The 60s and 70s were the best years, I suppose, he was earning and spending a lot of money and having plenty of fun. He was absolutely lovely and we remember him with great affection.
I've just checked the DVD to find the episode with Norman in - if you happen to have the programmes, it's Series 9, Episode 5, very near the start. It was absolutely lovely to see him again, and I'd forgotten that the sketch lasted several minutes. I shall put it on the Sage's laptop later, he will love it too.
*Saki reference
**I have momentarily forgotten whether, immediately before marrying me, he was the Sprout or the Sprig. In any case, he achieved Sagacity on marriage.
Norman and Barbara were dear friends of the Sage's. They had an antique shop in London and often did business together; the Sage was a full-time auctioneer at that time and they bought a good deal of stuff from him. Norman's day, or rather evening, job was musician; he was a pianist and a composer and played at all sorts of events, night clubs, variety shows, the Ritz - he was the pianist there too, although I don't think he ever overshadowed the soup and annoyed the chef to the point of violence*, he was far too considerate for that.
The year before I married the Sage, Norman and Barbara's daughter Carole had her 21st birthday party at the Ritz and the Sprig** was a guest. One of the highlights of his social life, that was, it was fabulous. And the first time he took me to London on my own (we had gone there with his friend Arthur the week before to an art exhibition), sort of our first date, he took me to their shop to introduce me to them. They were highly intrigued, he had never been seen by them with a woman before, and along he came with an extremely young girl (well, compared to him, that is) who hardly said a word, and no explanation!
Anyway, Norman died some years ago and Barbara is in her 80s now and has recently moved house to live near Carole, and we phone each other a couple of times a year. The 60s and 70s were the best years, I suppose, he was earning and spending a lot of money and having plenty of fun. He was absolutely lovely and we remember him with great affection.
I've just checked the DVD to find the episode with Norman in - if you happen to have the programmes, it's Series 9, Episode 5, very near the start. It was absolutely lovely to see him again, and I'd forgotten that the sketch lasted several minutes. I shall put it on the Sage's laptop later, he will love it too.
*Saki reference
**I have momentarily forgotten whether, immediately before marrying me, he was the Sprout or the Sprig. In any case, he achieved Sagacity on marriage.
Sunday, 19 June 2011
The Sage talks about the past
The Sage is such an enthusiast. He has been reminiscing, rather beyond my capacity, I must confess. I don't have a bad memory, but to remember when something happened, it's best if there's something to hang it on, as it were. For example, I know exactly when Miss Fitt died, because it was the year that Ro was born (she was thrilled to be able to hold and cuddle him, she loved children) and she lived to 101 years and 6 months, to the day. Since I remember her birthday and how old Ro is, I can work it out. But then he was asking me other dates and I have only a vague idea.
He started to talk about Mrs Dare, Miss Fitt's blind sister. He spoke of her with such warmth that I was puzzled. "Did you meet her?' "Oh yes," he said, "I remember her well." Since I don't, not very well, and he could only possibly know the family through us, I was more puzzled, and pondered for a while. I finally pointed out that she died well before he moved to Lowestoft, when I was still a child. He tried to argue for a bit, but I had my facts marshalled by then, and so he had to agree that he never actually knew her at all. He and I met when I was 16, in early February 1970 (I'm afraid I cannot give you the exact date in this instance). "I heard all about her," he protested. "I feel as if I knew her."
He does that, you know, and I've so often seen the look of bewilderment on someone's face when he talks about someone as though about a friend, and it turns out to be someone who lived at least 80 years ago. Most people are far too polite to challenge him, even when he starts to ask if they knew him or her too? It's very amusing to watch, though it drives me nuts when he does it to me. I am boringly precise about verifiable details and uninterested in speculating on ones that cannot be checked, and he is rather the opposite. Weeza can hardly bear to watch us when we have that sort of conversation, though the boys find it quite entertaining.
He started to talk about Mrs Dare, Miss Fitt's blind sister. He spoke of her with such warmth that I was puzzled. "Did you meet her?' "Oh yes," he said, "I remember her well." Since I don't, not very well, and he could only possibly know the family through us, I was more puzzled, and pondered for a while. I finally pointed out that she died well before he moved to Lowestoft, when I was still a child. He tried to argue for a bit, but I had my facts marshalled by then, and so he had to agree that he never actually knew her at all. He and I met when I was 16, in early February 1970 (I'm afraid I cannot give you the exact date in this instance). "I heard all about her," he protested. "I feel as if I knew her."
He does that, you know, and I've so often seen the look of bewilderment on someone's face when he talks about someone as though about a friend, and it turns out to be someone who lived at least 80 years ago. Most people are far too polite to challenge him, even when he starts to ask if they knew him or her too? It's very amusing to watch, though it drives me nuts when he does it to me. I am boringly precise about verifiable details and uninterested in speculating on ones that cannot be checked, and he is rather the opposite. Weeza can hardly bear to watch us when we have that sort of conversation, though the boys find it quite entertaining.
Saturday, 18 June 2011
Socially whirling
The Sage has had a very jolly birthday. All his children and grandchildren came to his party and, after lunch, he and his friends spent an hour or two looking at and talking about china, which is enough to make any auctioneer happy.
Looking at my diary, I see that we are going to another party next Saturday. This is turning out to be the most sociable year we have had for a very long time. I'm rather awkwardly aware that those to whom we 'owe' hospitality are not, in the main, the ones who have been here, so I'd better get going and find some free weekends to ask them over. Although it has to be said, it's rather safer to get near the time and phone on the chance they're free - those things planned weeks ahead can become inconvenient in the end. I don't suppose that we're in any way unusual, in that a free week can suddenly get booked up and the event at the end of it becomes difficult to fit in at all.
Our friend Daphne, who was unable to come today, has suggested that we have a party to celebrate the car's 82nd birthday on 3rd August. She has known the Sage for about 60 years and remembers when he bought the car. I shall soon exhaust my pudding repertoire at this rate.
Wink has to leave very early tomorrow morning to get back for the Bod's birthday celebrations. She says that she will not wake us - although one or other of us is usually awake very early, even if we don't get up straight away.
There was torrential rain today, by the way. First a hailstorm, which was a bit of a surprise, and then several downpours, with a thunderstorm. Rain is traditional at this time of the year, of course, but we don't often get hail in mid-June. Quite impressive.
Looking at my diary, I see that we are going to another party next Saturday. This is turning out to be the most sociable year we have had for a very long time. I'm rather awkwardly aware that those to whom we 'owe' hospitality are not, in the main, the ones who have been here, so I'd better get going and find some free weekends to ask them over. Although it has to be said, it's rather safer to get near the time and phone on the chance they're free - those things planned weeks ahead can become inconvenient in the end. I don't suppose that we're in any way unusual, in that a free week can suddenly get booked up and the event at the end of it becomes difficult to fit in at all.
Our friend Daphne, who was unable to come today, has suggested that we have a party to celebrate the car's 82nd birthday on 3rd August. She has known the Sage for about 60 years and remembers when he bought the car. I shall soon exhaust my pudding repertoire at this rate.
Wink has to leave very early tomorrow morning to get back for the Bod's birthday celebrations. She says that she will not wake us - although one or other of us is usually awake very early, even if we don't get up straight away.
There was torrential rain today, by the way. First a hailstorm, which was a bit of a surprise, and then several downpours, with a thunderstorm. Rain is traditional at this time of the year, of course, but we don't often get hail in mid-June. Quite impressive.
Friday, 17 June 2011
FHB
I woke up early again, around 5.30 and listened, but there was no sound from the fireplace so I played Angry Birds for a while on my phone. The sound an hour later was from a desperate, rather than an angry bird. The Sage was still asleep, so I got up, moved the chest of drawers and uncovered the fireplace. The dove was flopped in the grate, but it fluttered strongly enough when I picked it up and flew away when I released it through the open window. I hope it found water quickly and has survived. I wasn't surprised; in my experience they do not leave the apparent safety of the fireplace unless you chivvy them.
Wink has arrived and brought pouring rain from the West Country with her. I have made three meat dishes for tomorrow and will do two vegetable ones in the morning. I have also made two of the three puddings. I am quite agitated, however, in case there is not enough food. This does not, you understand, indicate that there is not enough food, just that I am never entirely comfortable unless I have overcatered.
Wink has arrived and brought pouring rain from the West Country with her. I have made three meat dishes for tomorrow and will do two vegetable ones in the morning. I have also made two of the three puddings. I am quite agitated, however, in case there is not enough food. This does not, you understand, indicate that there is not enough food, just that I am never entirely comfortable unless I have overcatered.
Thursday, 16 June 2011
Dove dive
Rather splendidly, the major fuss I made here the other day has got it out of my system and I've been feeling better since then.. In part because there is too much else to do - once I took in that I haven't time to hang about, there's so much to be getting on with, I stopped dwelling on the frustration that the thing that we are waiting for has not happened. And so I'm still burning the candles (just at one end) but I'm listening to music too in the evenings.
This morning, I had just woken up when, at around 6 o'clock, I heard the sound of a dove falling down the bedroom chimney. I knew it was a dove because I could hear that it was a large bird, but pigeons never do fall down. Maybe they just have a better sense of balance. There is a board in front of the fireplace and a chest of drawers in front of that. When we got up, we moved them and left the windows open and the door shut. I don't know if it got out as I went out for lunch; the Sage shut them later on the assumption that it had probably gone. I hope so. We will find out at first light tomorrow; if it is still there it will start to flutter again and I will get up straight away and let it go. There are ledges in the old chimney where it was sitting when I looked for it this morning. As you can tell, I've dealt with this regularly over the past 25 years.
We do occasionally have birds come down the drawing room chimney, but less frequently, and they are smaller birds. This chimney is lined so there are no ledges. Once, my cleaning lady came to tell me, in some agitation, that there were two black and white birds flying around the room. A pair of swallows had fallen down. We were able to get them out of the window, but there was a fair amount of clearing up to do. At least, since we never light a fire in the bedroom, there is no soot.
This morning, I had just woken up when, at around 6 o'clock, I heard the sound of a dove falling down the bedroom chimney. I knew it was a dove because I could hear that it was a large bird, but pigeons never do fall down. Maybe they just have a better sense of balance. There is a board in front of the fireplace and a chest of drawers in front of that. When we got up, we moved them and left the windows open and the door shut. I don't know if it got out as I went out for lunch; the Sage shut them later on the assumption that it had probably gone. I hope so. We will find out at first light tomorrow; if it is still there it will start to flutter again and I will get up straight away and let it go. There are ledges in the old chimney where it was sitting when I looked for it this morning. As you can tell, I've dealt with this regularly over the past 25 years.
We do occasionally have birds come down the drawing room chimney, but less frequently, and they are smaller birds. This chimney is lined so there are no ledges. Once, my cleaning lady came to tell me, in some agitation, that there were two black and white birds flying around the room. A pair of swallows had fallen down. We were able to get them out of the window, but there was a fair amount of clearing up to do. At least, since we never light a fire in the bedroom, there is no soot.
Wednesday, 15 June 2011
Rambling Zos
I spent some more time this evening looking at photos. Some of the few in existence of my grandmother, who died when I was two and whom I don't remember at all. She was holding my sister as a baby or standing by my grandfather and he was holding her. It's indistinct and I can't really see what she looked like, but I don't think she was bothered in the least about her appearance. It was just as well, she had had cancer in her face and and radiation treatment, which I think must have been fairly haphazard at that time (I think it was the 1930s) had destroyed some of the bone, which periodically worked its way out, and she wore a scarf or bandage round her head to hide the damage. Just a casual knotted piece of material. It looked quaint, but I don't suppose she cared, from what I have heard of her.
Although I've done a fair amount of reminiscing here over the years, I don't look back much. My mother told me a lot of stories about her and my father's past, but I don't think I have done as much to my children. It's a bit late to start now, they'd think it was the ramblings of an old woman. Er...
Anyway, I have succeeded in buying a birthday present for the Sage, which is rather a relief, as his birthday is on Friday. It is a saucer. He will love it. Soon, I must start to think about his party on Saturday. There will be 21 or 22 of us - though that does include the children, and I don't suppose that Hadrian will take much part in the festivities. I'm going out tomorrow, but I'd better allow time to do some shopping, and then cook on Friday. I could have planned ahead really, couldn't I. Bit late now.
Although I've done a fair amount of reminiscing here over the years, I don't look back much. My mother told me a lot of stories about her and my father's past, but I don't think I have done as much to my children. It's a bit late to start now, they'd think it was the ramblings of an old woman. Er...
Anyway, I have succeeded in buying a birthday present for the Sage, which is rather a relief, as his birthday is on Friday. It is a saucer. He will love it. Soon, I must start to think about his party on Saturday. There will be 21 or 22 of us - though that does include the children, and I don't suppose that Hadrian will take much part in the festivities. I'm going out tomorrow, but I'd better allow time to do some shopping, and then cook on Friday. I could have planned ahead really, couldn't I. Bit late now.
Tuesday, 14 June 2011
Pictures of Z!!(!)
Darlings, I know that there is nothing in the world that you want more at this moment than pictures of the young Z, is there. Is there? Oh. Well, you're getting them anyway.
As I said, I'm doing some turning out of my mother's things and I was awfully pleased to come across her Christmas crib - she and my father bought it in Woolworth's in 1947, the year they were married, when just about everything was in short supply or rationed and they didn't have much money anyway. No doubt, you will be shown it in six months' time. There was also the fairy for the tree, who isn't very pretty, to be honest, and the last of the bird tree decorations that I loved so much as a child. I didn't know that she had kept one.
I also found several packs of photos. Also, in a walnut box with some odds and ends I was surprised to find a lock of my hair. I vaguely remember promising to bring it back from the hairdresser's when I finally had my long hair cut, which I think was sometime in my late 20s.
Anyway, I have made you wait quite long enough, and here goes...
This is certainly me, but I don't recognise the background or the dress and it isn't a typical photo - I'm usually looking shy and winsome or else wild-haired and tomboyish in childhood pictures.
These are all of me in my twenties. The first is me and my mother, at her house - not the house I grew up in, she and my stepfather moved house in the late 1970s. It was before The Haircut. The second was taken in 1981, when Joepie, our childhood au pair visited. In the third, I'm with Miss Fitt (sadly, her real name). She died in 1984 at the age of 101 and this was her 100th birthday party, so it must have been June 1983. The next time is the same party, although the colour of my jacket is quite different - the truth is probably somewhere in between. The last of these pictures was taken in our lovely Edwardian house in Lowestoft and my stepfather, Wilf, is in the foreground.
That's all of me, but this picture of Wink is so lovely that I want to show it to you. Isn't she pretty? That's during the same visit made by Joepie (Dutch, short for Johanna, pronounced Yoopi).
Finally, Al with the Sage's Ma at Miss Fitt's birthday and Weeza and Al in 1981. They must have been 7 and 5 at the time. Sorry about the mark on Al's face, I didn't notice before I scanned the pic and I can't be arsed to do it again. Sentiment can only go so far. Sheesh.
It just occurred to me that you might like the most recent photo of me, for comparison. So here it is.
As I said, I'm doing some turning out of my mother's things and I was awfully pleased to come across her Christmas crib - she and my father bought it in Woolworth's in 1947, the year they were married, when just about everything was in short supply or rationed and they didn't have much money anyway. No doubt, you will be shown it in six months' time. There was also the fairy for the tree, who isn't very pretty, to be honest, and the last of the bird tree decorations that I loved so much as a child. I didn't know that she had kept one.
I also found several packs of photos. Also, in a walnut box with some odds and ends I was surprised to find a lock of my hair. I vaguely remember promising to bring it back from the hairdresser's when I finally had my long hair cut, which I think was sometime in my late 20s.
Anyway, I have made you wait quite long enough, and here goes...
Monday, 13 June 2011
Z paces the floor and worries
This evening, I cannot find music to fit my mood, or else soothe it. I've tried a range of stuff, and it all irritates me. I have turned it off and lit a candle instead.
Usually, I don't give it a great deal of thought, but let my choice just happen. I listen on Spotify, mostly, largely because I want to get my money's worth from my subscription, but also because, even if I've bought the disc, the artist might as well get the small sum from it being played.
I'm becoming a nervous wreck. Time was, you got a longish period of notice of a school inspection, but you knew when it would be. Then you got short notice (at one time, it could be no notice at all, they might just walk in, but I don't think this happened to many schools). This time, they told us that we're in the pilot group, but not when they would come. I am not consciously worrying, but my shoulders hurt because they are so tense, my face aches because I'm grinding my teeth and I wake every hour or so at night. Even the Sage is irritating me, because he's so cheerful. Well, not just that. Someone called in for a school business conversation and he monopolised the conversation throughout, with the result that we weren't able to have our discussion.
I'm sorry. It's just that there's so much to do, and this is holding us up. I'm also attempting to do some turning-out, things belonging to my mother. Yes, she died eight years ago, but this is stuff that stayed in a cupboard in Al and Dilly's house for some time, so it's only been in a spare room for five years or so and it just got left. Now, I'm being a good example to the Sage. He has a room to turn out, and he needs somewhere to put his things. There's no point in nagging, I've got to have a practical solution or the work will never get done. Anyway, much of my mother's stuff has turned out to be old papers, not interesting ones but newspaper cuttings and bank and tax papers, so it can all be burned. But every half hour or so, someone calls or the phone rings and then I don't get back to it. I can see that this will take me quite some time. So far, one boxful to keep, four to get rid of.
I cannot see that we will ever be in a position to downsize. Having said that, Ro's room is as he left it when he moved out, and it's a huge room. Lined with cupboards and shelves, it could solve all our storage space issues. I wonder if he'd mind.
Usually, I don't give it a great deal of thought, but let my choice just happen. I listen on Spotify, mostly, largely because I want to get my money's worth from my subscription, but also because, even if I've bought the disc, the artist might as well get the small sum from it being played.
I'm becoming a nervous wreck. Time was, you got a longish period of notice of a school inspection, but you knew when it would be. Then you got short notice (at one time, it could be no notice at all, they might just walk in, but I don't think this happened to many schools). This time, they told us that we're in the pilot group, but not when they would come. I am not consciously worrying, but my shoulders hurt because they are so tense, my face aches because I'm grinding my teeth and I wake every hour or so at night. Even the Sage is irritating me, because he's so cheerful. Well, not just that. Someone called in for a school business conversation and he monopolised the conversation throughout, with the result that we weren't able to have our discussion.
I'm sorry. It's just that there's so much to do, and this is holding us up. I'm also attempting to do some turning-out, things belonging to my mother. Yes, she died eight years ago, but this is stuff that stayed in a cupboard in Al and Dilly's house for some time, so it's only been in a spare room for five years or so and it just got left. Now, I'm being a good example to the Sage. He has a room to turn out, and he needs somewhere to put his things. There's no point in nagging, I've got to have a practical solution or the work will never get done. Anyway, much of my mother's stuff has turned out to be old papers, not interesting ones but newspaper cuttings and bank and tax papers, so it can all be burned. But every half hour or so, someone calls or the phone rings and then I don't get back to it. I can see that this will take me quite some time. So far, one boxful to keep, four to get rid of.
I cannot see that we will ever be in a position to downsize. Having said that, Ro's room is as he left it when he moved out, and it's a huge room. Lined with cupboards and shelves, it could solve all our storage space issues. I wonder if he'd mind.
Sunday, 12 June 2011
Numbers
Now it's raining properly, at last. Showers were forecast yesterday - I went to London with a waterproof jacket and sunglasses in my bag, though only needed the sunspecs, because it was dry all day and sunny for an appreciable part of it. It was lovely at 7.30 this morning when I first went out, not a cloud in the sky.
We had lunch with Weeza and co. Zerlina does enjoy food. She ate the sausage first, then the carrot and asked for more. She cleared her plate (chicken, roast potato, chipolata, carrot, asparagus), picking up the asparagus neatly with her fingers, although eating the stalk first rather than the tip. Then she ate ice cream. After that, she wanted to have a go on her swing, so I pushed her for rather a long time. Swings are rather more fun when you're swinging than when you're pushing. Please read each part of that sentence entirely in its context, btw. She is a tall and slender little girl with a lot of energy, but she also needs plenty of sleep. Her mother ensures that she still has an afternoon nap, which is quite unusual in a child of her age (Weeza herself was impossible to keep in bed for a nap after 18 months or so) but I'm sure that it's good for her.
I took a present for each of them; Adnam's bitter for Phil, grape juice for Weeza and a book for Zerlina. It is a book written by my friend Charlotte, who stayed with us a few months ago. She only wrote and illustrated three books, as she had bad RSI and couldn't draw any more; we bought the first one when Ro was young and we still have it, but the others were for younger children and I didn't get it at the time.
I haven't yet given any thought to the Sage's birthday present. He is terribly difficult to buy for.
I noticed, the other day, that I've driven 16,000 miles in my car since I bought it, 32 months ago. How neat. I still do not particularly warm to it, but it has to be said that Mercedes make good cars, or they did 13 years ago, anyway. Well over 100,000 miles and it's (regrettably) still going strong and I have no excuse to trade it in. The Sage is working on his old Rover at present, almost everything is wrong with it. He and his friend Mike (the *other* Mike and Ann, if you came to the party) spent all day on it, and got it working in the end. It didn't help that a mouse had made its home there. The electrics are still to be done, but the plan is to have it on the road for August in time for its 83rd birthday.
We had lunch with Weeza and co. Zerlina does enjoy food. She ate the sausage first, then the carrot and asked for more. She cleared her plate (chicken, roast potato, chipolata, carrot, asparagus), picking up the asparagus neatly with her fingers, although eating the stalk first rather than the tip. Then she ate ice cream. After that, she wanted to have a go on her swing, so I pushed her for rather a long time. Swings are rather more fun when you're swinging than when you're pushing. Please read each part of that sentence entirely in its context, btw. She is a tall and slender little girl with a lot of energy, but she also needs plenty of sleep. Her mother ensures that she still has an afternoon nap, which is quite unusual in a child of her age (Weeza herself was impossible to keep in bed for a nap after 18 months or so) but I'm sure that it's good for her.
I took a present for each of them; Adnam's bitter for Phil, grape juice for Weeza and a book for Zerlina. It is a book written by my friend Charlotte, who stayed with us a few months ago. She only wrote and illustrated three books, as she had bad RSI and couldn't draw any more; we bought the first one when Ro was young and we still have it, but the others were for younger children and I didn't get it at the time.
I haven't yet given any thought to the Sage's birthday present. He is terribly difficult to buy for.
I noticed, the other day, that I've driven 16,000 miles in my car since I bought it, 32 months ago. How neat. I still do not particularly warm to it, but it has to be said that Mercedes make good cars, or they did 13 years ago, anyway. Well over 100,000 miles and it's (regrettably) still going strong and I have no excuse to trade it in. The Sage is working on his old Rover at present, almost everything is wrong with it. He and his friend Mike (the *other* Mike and Ann, if you came to the party) spent all day on it, and got it working in the end. It didn't help that a mouse had made its home there. The electrics are still to be done, but the plan is to have it on the road for August in time for its 83rd birthday.
Saturday, 11 June 2011
To London, and home again
The day went very well, no delays at all and I walked from Knightsbridge tube station to meet Wink, who had arrived before me and was having coffee. I have walked quite a long way, I suppose - well, it feels like it, though I don't suppose it's more than a couple of miles.
The tube back, it was about 5.30 and, although a Saturday, was very crowded. We were jammed in and some people had to stay on the platform and wait for the next train. A lot of tourists, who found the crowds good fun and were smiling. There was a group of Spanish people and one of them was talking loudly to another, a few yards away. Her voice was not only loud, but piercing and I tried to keep my head turned for her voice not to blast right into my ear.
I didn't actually mind the crush, I'd found it more of a nuisance outside the Albert Hall where people who'd just exited with us were milling round getting in the way. On the tube, we were all being good-humoured and considerate (apart from the Spanish lady, who wasn't doing it on purpose, she didn't know her voice could shatter glass*).
Standing there strap-hanging, I pondered - if asked, I'd say I don't like crowds at all and I feel oppressed if there are too many people around me, but the only discomfort I felt was because I was too hot and wished I'd taken my jacket off. I tried to think it through - I think it was the patience that made the difference. There was physical consideration, people were trying not to touch, but being good-humoured if it was unavoidable. Because we were all standing still - that is, swaying about a bit but not moving along - I wasn't nervous of being knocked over. Um. Still doesn't entirely add up.
Tomorrow, we are having lunch with Weeza and family. She and Phil want to go and check out dishwashers without Zerlina, so the Sage and I will babysit after lunch (she still has a nap, so I must remember to take the papers to read, or a book).
* I doubt you should take this literally
The tube back, it was about 5.30 and, although a Saturday, was very crowded. We were jammed in and some people had to stay on the platform and wait for the next train. A lot of tourists, who found the crowds good fun and were smiling. There was a group of Spanish people and one of them was talking loudly to another, a few yards away. Her voice was not only loud, but piercing and I tried to keep my head turned for her voice not to blast right into my ear.
I didn't actually mind the crush, I'd found it more of a nuisance outside the Albert Hall where people who'd just exited with us were milling round getting in the way. On the tube, we were all being good-humoured and considerate (apart from the Spanish lady, who wasn't doing it on purpose, she didn't know her voice could shatter glass*).
Standing there strap-hanging, I pondered - if asked, I'd say I don't like crowds at all and I feel oppressed if there are too many people around me, but the only discomfort I felt was because I was too hot and wished I'd taken my jacket off. I tried to think it through - I think it was the patience that made the difference. There was physical consideration, people were trying not to touch, but being good-humoured if it was unavoidable. Because we were all standing still - that is, swaying about a bit but not moving along - I wasn't nervous of being knocked over. Um. Still doesn't entirely add up.
Tomorrow, we are having lunch with Weeza and family. She and Phil want to go and check out dishwashers without Zerlina, so the Sage and I will babysit after lunch (she still has a nap, so I must remember to take the papers to read, or a book).
* I doubt you should take this literally
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