Looking Ahead

2010 was a funny old year, if I'd known what it held in store I wouldn't have believed that we could get through it, but here we are looking ahead to 2011 stronger, wiser and perhaps a little braver. Sometimes it takes difficult or painful events to make you take a good look at your life and to appreciate the people and things that really matter. Just as importantly, such events teach us not to stress so much about the things that we can not change. I don't make new year resolutions but this coming year I intend to enjoy life, to be a little braver and more adventurous and to appreciate all the special people in my life.

Theyre Back!

The Story So Far

Late last nigh when the house was quiet and Robbie and I were relaxing in the lounge, the missing Lego men reappeared. Robbie spotted them on the bookcase in the hall but they certainly hadn't been there earlier in the day, it is a mystery. The surfer and the karate champion have now been joined by a weightlifter. Robbie was so pleased to get them back, after a brief appearance in on the mantelpiece where they made a rather a rather odd addition to the crib they were taken to the safety of our bedroom, so hopefully their travels are over!

Forgetful?

I was rather confused this morning when Robbie told me how much he enjoyed last night in bed. I didn't recall anything deep or meaningful, I admit that I have become a bit forgetful since my bump on the head last week, but surely I wouldn't forget something like that? I wasn't sure what to say so I just cuddled up to Robbie and left him to do the talking. It soon became clear that his enjoyment didn't involve me at all. His pleasurable time involved sitting up in bed eating chocolate finger biscuits and reading his new book about Scammell lorries!!

A Winter Walk

Our family have many odd traditions, but one of my favourites is that we all gather at my mum's house for stake and chips on Christmas Eve. It is one of the few times in the year when all the family are together, it is a lovely relaxed atmosphere and as the photo of Robbie shows the food is rather good too (he is not usually allowed to eat that much!). Christmas Day and Boxing Day are rather more hectic, but they are still very special family times and despite our good intentions we always eat too much. So when all the festivities were over Robbie and I decided to kill two birds with one stone, we took a long walk to get some much needed exercise and to indulge Robbie's passion for all things railway by walking to our favourite preserved railway(The Northampton and Lamport Railway). It was a lovely walk in the snow and Robbie enjoyed taking photos, but by the time we got back to the car I was so cold that it was painful. Here are some of Robbies photos

Taken Hostage

Robbie is a man of many passions, as well as his obsession with all things railway related, buses, die-cast models, music and vinyl records, he loves Lego and he has started to collect the little Lego men that are sold in individual packs. He already had the surfer and the karate champion and I bought him some more for Christmas, but his two originals went missing on Christmas Day. They were found on boxing day morning hidden on the bookcase with Wii games, so when we set the table for lunch Robbie put them on the mantelpiece to keep them safe. They made an odd addition to the crib, we now had 3 kings, a shepherd, a surfer and a karate champion visiting baby Jesus!

When we sat down to lunch Robbie noticed that his men were missing again, he was not a happy chap. In fact judging by the fuss he caused, I thought he had been abducted by aliens and replaced with an 8 year old! In the end he was pacified when I promised that I would find the Lego Men, but unfortunately that has proved more difficult than I expected. The prank seemed to have Sam's signature on it, but after close interrogation I am satisfied that he didn't do it. With a slight smile he said that he wished he had thought of it, because it was funny but he couldn't take the credit for this one! I questioned the girls too and I am not convinced that they know anything about it either. Having searched high and low I am wondering if they were accidentally thrown out with the debris from the crackers. Robbie on the other hand is convinced that they have been taken hostage and he is expecting a ransom note in the post any day now - or perhaps we will receive a series of postcards from well travelled Lego Men!!

A Turkey of Giant Proportions

I have written about our cat with two names many times. His Sunday best name is George but the children called him Dave, they think it is a cool name for a cat, he is named after Grandad because neither has any teeth but both cope admirably without them! I love that cat, so on Christmas morning I decided to cook the giblets from the turkey for him. At one point my son wandered into the kitchen and asked what was in the saucepan. I was busy and I replied absent mindedly "it's the bits from the turkey". Sam then lifted the lid of the pan and slammed it down again horrified, he had mistaken the neck for a completely different part! Sam must imagine that there are turkeys running around endowed with 'bits' that a horse would be proud of!!

The Joys of a White Christmas

The snow that plagued us all before Christmas may have looked pretty, but it made everything that much harder - and when I was rushing around sorting out all the last minute arrangements I really don't need the extra aggravation. On the Wednesday before Christmas we woke up to a deep carpet of snow, I begged Robbie not to go to work because I was afraid of him falling over but he wouldn't hear of it. There were no buses running and there was no hope of a taxi so we took 20 minutes to dig the car out and I set out to get Robbie as close to the station as possible. It was a scary journey and I left him to walk down the station because I didn't want to risk it in the car. On my way back I skidded when stopping at traffic lights but I stopped just in time to avoid colliding with the traffic on the main road, it was so scary.

Robbie made it safely down the hill but when he was close to the station he slipped and had a close encounter with the ground. He must have hit the ground with a lot of force because the side of his knee and his thigh was badly swollen. He was in agony and struggling to walk, but he still got to work!

I had lots of errands to do but most important of all was a trip to the model shop to buy the Merseyside Express (prototype Deltic). As I walked back to the car I complemented myself on getting the last one in stock for a very good price when suddenly my feet started misbehaving and the next thing I knew the side of my head thudded against the low metal car park fencing and I was sprawled in the snow. I had to lay there until the ground stopped spinning, but eventually I got back to the car and safely home. My daughter later commented on the irony, I am teetotal, but I managed to fall down outside a pub, complain of blurred vision and struggle to stand up without a drop of alcohol passing my lips!

I rang Robbie to tell him what had happened but he was busy so it was just a brief call, then my daughter Emily rang and seemed concerned that I was not making much sense. I thought I was just a bit dazed but it seems I probably had concussion and Emily organised a succession of 'minders' until Robbie got home to keep an eye on me. Apparently I was talking rubbish and being very difficult about seeing a doctor, but I don't remember much about it now. I do remember noticing later that evening that Robbie could hardly walk and couldn't cope with the stairs at all - he was walking like Spotty Dog from the Woodentops and I about as coherent as a Flowerpot Man, what a pair!!

Did Coca Cola Create Santa Claus?

Ask people to describe Father Christmas most and will speak of a jolly old man with a white beard, a red suit, and black boots. Most people would claim that this is a tradition that has its roots far back in history, but it was not until the 1930s that the familiar image of Santa in his red suit became popular.In the 1822 poem now known as'The Night Before Christmas, Clement Clarke Moore described Santa as a jolly old elf, who looked a bit like a peddler.

He was dressed all in fur from his head to his foot,
And his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot;
A bundle of toys he had flung on his back,
And he looked like a peddler just opening his sack.

The identity of Santa Claus or Father Christmas has roots in various traditions. The story of St Nicholas a Bishop in the early church who was noted for helping the poor and secretly leaving coins in peoples shoes was the inspiration for the legend of Santa Claus and early pictures of Santa show him wearing a bishops robes.

To find out how Coca Cola changed the image of Santa Claus follow this link

http://socyberty.com/holidays/did-coca-cola-create-santa-claus/

The Voice of my Childhood

I was so pleased last week when I heard that Brian Cant had received a special award at the Children's Baftas. The name Brian Cant will be instantly recognised by almost everyone who grew up in the 1960's and 1970's. To Robbie he is the voice of Play Away on Saturday afternoons, to my brother he is synonymous with Play School, but to me he is the voice of Camberwick Green, Trumpton and Chigley. Far too many years later I can still recall the Play Away song and the start of "Here's a house, here's a door. Windows: 1 2 3 4, ready to knock? Turn the lock - It's Play School."

Camberwick Green began with the words "Here is a box, a musical box, wound up and ready to play. But this box can hide a secret inside. Can you guess what is in it today?" Then the box would open and a character would emerge from inside the musical box to begin the story. I always hoped it would be Windy Miller of Colley's Mill, he was my favourite character and I loved the sound of the sails of the windmill going round.

The start of Trumpton was also memorable "Here is the clock, the Trumpton clock. Telling the time steadily, sensibly, never too quickly, never too slowly. Telling the time for Trumpton." Then the picture would pan away from the clock to the activity in the town street below and the story would begin. Trumpton always ended with a band concert but my favourite part came in the middle when the fire brigade were called to attend to a problem (never a fire, as far as I can remember). Surely a whole generation can still recite the names of the Trumpton fire brigade Pugh, Pugh, Barney McGrew, Cuthbert, Dibble, Grubb".

I have to admit that by the time Chigley came along I was too old to watch it, but my brother is 6 years younger than me, so he always wanted to watch it. I don't recall much about Chigley except Lord Belborough who travelled everywhere on Bessie the engine. There were so many memorable Trumptonshire songs, all sung by Brian Cant, but my favourite is

"Time flies by when I'm the driver of a train

And I ride on the footplate there and back again

Under bridges over bridges to our destination

Puffing through the countryside there's so much to be seen.

Passengers waving as we steam through a station.

Stoke up fireman for the signal is at green.

Time flies by when I'm the driver of a train

And I ride on the footplate there and back again

In the cutting, through the tunnel,

Rushing clanking on the track.

Wheezing pistons, smoking funnels,

Turning wheels go clickety clack.

Time flies by when I'm the driver of a train

And I ride on the footplate there and back again."

For me the voice of Brian Cant transports me back to childhood and to the kinder gentler world of Trumptonshire. I wouldn't swap places with the young children of today, they have more choice but in those far of days there was a special kind of magic that was lost as programs became more sophisticated.

Bursting the Bubble

I had a very strange experience this evening, I feel a bit sad about it really because I think I preferred not really knowing and letting my imagination fill the gaps. For years Robbie has been entertaining me with tales about his work, it is bit like the railway version of The Archers - the everyday story of train planning folk. Over time I have got used to this strange little world peopled with an odd assortment of characters, most of whom are known by weird and wonderful nicknames. Gradually I had built up mental images of all these people just based on their names, one was like a character from the beano, one had rosy cheeks and a slightly camp manner, another was tall and thin with a rather confused expression and one just had a silly grin. I was quite happy with my version of reality, but tonight Robbie burst my bubble by showing me a photo of all these people. My mental images were completely wrong, except for the beano character, that one wasn't too far off target. Most looked older than I expected, one had a lovely smile, one looked far more scary than I imagined, and one bore an uncanny resemblance to Richard Briars. From now on every time I hear his name Howard and Hilda in their matching anoraks will pop into my head, and this saga now has it's own theme tune - ever decreasing circles!

Why does he do that?

Those people who read the blog regularly will know by now that Robbie's thought processes are random to say the least, but he still manages to surprise me sometimes. His mind wanders at the most inappropriate times. I am sure he thinks that I have a pause button - like the television. At the weekend he interrupted an intimate moment to tell me about a bus tour next year, needless to say the moment was lost. I am sure his colleagues think it is funny to fill his head with this daft information, don't I have enough problems with him and rail tours without telling him about bus tours as well. So beware, I know who you are and I'm not amused!!

Keeping Warm

I am starting to feel a little more human again today, I felt a bit dodgy on Thursday and absolutely diabolical on Friday. I have a long standing digestive problem but it hasn't been this bad for years. I managed to get Robbie to the station on Friday morning but when I got home matters took a turn for the worse and there was no way on earth that I would have been able to get Sam to school. In fact it was so bad that Robbie turned round at Birmingham International, and headed home. At least he has the necessary equipment to work from home. I really don't remember much about Friday after that, when I finally stopped running to the bathroom I slept for hours, I felt very cold but Robbie said I was burning up.

I didn't feel like doing very much today, but at least I felt vaguely human again. This morning I stayed in bed because I still felt too cold to get up even with Robbie's radioactive rear to keep the bed warm. It turned out to be a really nice morning because we cuddled up and watched my favourite film Farmer Moving South. It is one of the finest early British Transport Films, it follows a farmer's relocation from Skutterskelf Hall Farm, near Stokesley in North Yorkshire, to Perry Hill Farm, Hartfield, Sussex on the 31st December 1950 - a date recorded as the coldest night of that year. I wish I could go back in time and explore the railways of those days. It is clear from the film that it was a different world, there was no health and safety, no risk assessments, just good old common sense - something that seems to be sadly lacking these days!

Saying Goodbye

It has been a difficult sort of week. We had to attend the funeral of a much loved family member on Thursday. She was 82 but none of the family were ready to think of a future without her in it. Her funeral service suited her perfectly, it was full of all the things that really matter in life, to the very last she did things her way. It wasn't the funeral of an old lady, it was a moving farewell to a woman who had lived and loved and stayed young at heart to the very end. There is so much to learn when you look back at a life lived well. It reminds you to cherish the things that really matter such as family and not to stress too much about the things that aren't really so important.

There had been a rift within the family, that saddened her very much, but she never took sides and she kept on loving everyone involved and hoping that in the end sense would prevail. What she could not accomplish in life she achieved in her final illness and death, the rift is healed and her family realise that they need each other more than ever. It is a shame that she did not live to see everyone all together again, but to see the family united again at her funeral was a fitting tribute to a lady who knew that we only have one life and we have to get on and live it to the full.

There's weird and then there's Warley!

A few months ago Robbie asked me if I would like to go to a model railway exhibition with him in November. He must have caught me at a weak moment because I agreed without hesitation. I am quite interested in Robbie's model railway collection - I don't have much choice really because they are taking over the bedroom! In previous years the thought of the crowds has put me off (I really struggle with crowds) but this year I braved it.

I thought Robbie's back pain would stop us going, but he was determined not to miss it because he had been looking forward to it for months. We got up stupidly early on Saturday morning and headed towards the station, before long we were sitting comfortably on a train enjoying a bacon roll and a cup of tea (coffee in Robbie's case). We spotted a number of other passengers who seemed to be heading for the same destination - how did we know, well they had train spotter written all over them! It was a bit too chilly for even the hardiest among them to contemplate socks and sandals, but there were plenty of beards and bellies in evidence!

When we got to the NEC we were herded into a rather disorderly crowd by one frantic man with a walkie talkie, and just before 9.30am the crowd moved forward and down the stairs and a few minutes later we were in the hall and wondering what to look at first. Robbie was like a kid in a sweetshop, he wanted to dash off in all directions at once. At one of the first stands we looked at he saw a Heljan Class 17 Clayton that proved too hard to resist, he looked at a few more stands before dashing back to blow his whole budget on the Clayton.

I managed to hang on to my money for a little longer. I was so tempted by the Ivor the Engine products, I love Ivor the Engine and I did go back and buy a couple of Ivor books later on. I could have spent a fortune, but since I didn't have a fortune to spend I manages to keep more or less within my budget. I saw loads of things that I really liked especially a Virgin Voyager set (so if Santa is reading this please take note). I spent most of my budget on books, I just couldn't resist them, there was one about Victorian and Edwardian carriage design, one about the history of the circus train, another about the railways during the war and Robbie's favourite 'Rails around Walsall'. In a weak moment I agreed to let Robbie buy loads of back copies of magazines. Before long I was weighed down with bags and I felt as if my arms would be stretched right down to my knees!

I was surprised how easy it was to lose Robbie in the crowd - but he kept finding me again! I found it very exhausting and by about 11.30am Robbie was struggling to cope with leg and back pain and I was tired, so we decided to go to York on the train. We could eat our packed lunch in comfort and enjoy looking through our new books. It was a really nice day. When we finally caught the train back to Northampton we were in for a nice surprise at Rugby, Tornado (60163) was sitting in platform 5 on it's return journey from working a rail tour. Our train was full with many people standing, lots of people were coming back from Warley and it was fascination to see all the different types of people who become obsessed with all things railway. Robbie told me off for staring, but I couldn't help it I had never seen anything like it in my life - so many variations on a theme. Robbie's quote of the day - 'there's weird and then there's Warley!'

Clever Cats

Robbie is not one to shy away from a challenge, but sometimes I think he is a slow learner. Surely he should know by now that it is impossible to train a cat - but it doesn't stop him trying! Each time the clocks change he begins a process with the cats to reset their body clock. Train planning spills over into all aspects of Robbie's daily life including feeding the cat's. they have their booked slot and he nothing will make him deviate from it. Each day Robbie talks to the cats and explains how much longer they have to wait until their designated meal time (using the 24 hour clock of course!). Oreo is nice but dim and he doesn't take much notice of Robbie, but George humours him by looking vaguely interested. He is older and wiser than Oreo, he can tell the time, and he can manipulate Robbie. If Robbie makes him wait for his food, he gives him the run around, he raids the bin, scratches the door and does countless other things to get his attention. Robbie hasn't quite made the connection yet, a well fed cat is a well behaved cat! Eventually Robbie will realise that cats have a more elastic concept of time - rather like Network Rail!

Decisions, Decisions.

It seems as if the blog has focussed a lot on aches and pains recently, I try not to sound too gloomy, but as I write about the ordinary events of family life it is hard to avoid writing about something as important as Robbie's struggle with back and leg pain. Over recent years his legs have misbehaved more and more frequently (that is true of the rest of him too - but that's another story!). He has written off so many pairs of trousers and jackets, but every cloud has a silver lining - I suspect he is single-handedly responsible for the improvement in Marks and Spencer's profits.

For quite a long time I have been trying to persuade Robbie to take his health more seriously and to make some adjustments in his life to make things a little easier. To be honest I get more attention when I talk to the dog (and she is deaf!) but finally we have reach the point where Robbie has had to take stock and admit that even a superhero would struggle to cope with the wide range of commitments that he was trying to cope with.

As well as a demanding job and a difficult journey to work every day, he had his rail tours, gigs, various union responsibilities, family commitments, a demanding wife, and one or two other little diversions that he would kill me if I mentioned on the b

log (yes even worse than milk floats!). Anyway Robbie has reluctantly admitted that he has to put his health and his family first. Sometimes just getting to work is a real struggle, but he never gives up, he loves his job, and he puts his heart and soul into his work, so that has to come first, before any of his other activities. He loves his trains too, I am sure if he had to choose between me and a deltic he would the deltic! Never mind, I know my place! He couldn't give up his trains and his rail tours, it would be cruel to expect him to do that, but he has promised to be more realistic about how much he can do.

So that leaves gigs and the union. In his heart Robbie knows that gigs will not figure very much in his future, but he isn't quite ready to put that into words. He would't be able to stand for that long and that ridiculous bouncing up and down thing that he used to do has to stay firmly in the past. I know it is hard, but I am sure we can find other ways for him to enjoy his music (I use the term music in it's broadest sense, to me the stuff he likes is just noise). The union was the most difficult decision of all. I make no secret of the fact that I disapprove of his union involvement, but I love Robbie and I am proud of the work he has done to support his colleagues in many different ways. Recently he has been very unhappy and stressed because there have been times when his health has stopped him from fulfilling his union responsibilities and there have been even more times

when his union work has encroached on his paid work to an unacceptable degree. In the end the union pressures were too much to cope with and something had to give. It was such a hard decision but Robbie has finally decided to step aside from his union roles and let others take their turn.

So if you see Robbie he could use a few friendly words because it has been a difficult few weeks, but beware, he doesn't like people to make a fuss so a dodgy joke or a chat about trains would be

far more welcome than an excess of sympathy. He may have had to face a few setbacks, but in his head he still thinks he is Superman!

Music at his Fingertips

I should be used to Robbie by now, but he still manages to surprise me. For a few days he had been asking to be taken to Blacks to buy some gloves. It seemed like a reasonable request, after all it is very cold early in the morning when he catches the train, so anything that makes him feel more comfortable has to be a good thing. I had forgotten one thing, wit Robbie you always have to expect the unexpected..............

On Sunday we were heading to my mum's for the afternoon, but we took a diversion to Blacks so that Robbie could buy his gloves. He said it wouldn't take long, so I waited in the car while Robbie headed towards the shop. I was just starting to wonder if I should send out a search party when Robbie came trotting across the car park with a huge grin on his face. When he got in the car he was loud and over excited, and I began to wonder if he'd had too many blue Smarties. How can anyone get so excited about a pair of gloves?

As I drove off Robbie tried on his gloves, they are not exactly what I expected. They were black with grippers on the palms and silver pads on the finger and thumb. Emily said they made him look like a magician while I thought he looked more like a mime artist, but our teasing didn't seem to dampen his enthusiasm at all. He explained in great detail that the silver tips enable him to use his ipod without having to take his gloves off! Apparently they are called etip gloves I am not sure what they are made of, but judging by the price they should be covered in gold leaf!

The Way To His Heart

This week has been difficult for both of us; for me because all my attention has been taken up with a DLA renewal application for a family member, for Robbie because he is very busy at work and he is in so much pain from his back and legs that coping with everyday life is almost impossible. I was so worried about him on Thursday evening because he could hardly move, but Robbie being Robbie, he wasn't going to give in. It took a superhuman effort, but he headed off to work bright and early on Friday morning.

The weekend could so easily have been a disaster, Robbie was in pain and frustrated because it was stopping him from doing most of the things he wanted to do. We were in no hurry to get moving on Saturday, but Robbie decided that if he had to miss out on some of his usual weekend activities he wanted to ride on trains instead. So at midday we were at the station ready to catch the 12.17 to Birmingham, there was just one problem - it was cancelled! I'm not sure if was that or the tepid coffee that upset Robbie most, but I was treated to one of his rants. He soon calmed down and before long we we were heading to Birmingham on a blue train and Robbie got his favourite seat, so he was happy again.

I suggested that we should have a look at some of Robbie's favourite shops in Birmingham. It was very brave of me because I don't cope very well with crowds and I am not keen on Birmingham, but I wanted him to have a nice day. We went to the Ian Allan bookshop, a record shop and lots of shoe shops because Robbie had his eye on some new trainers. I saw the most amazing pair of Dr Marten boots in Cloggs - I want them so badly but they are too tight across my foot where the lace up bit starts. Robbie bought himself an Animal T shirt and I bought him what he refers to as 'railway porn' - a Quail map (a book of track maps).

There was a loud and very scary parade on New Street. I couldn't see much because of the crowds, but there was a dragon and some dancers and a whole gang of men in kilts making an excruciating noise with bagpipes. I had to go and hide in The Works until it was all over - I bought a couple of books in there too. Robbie wanted to have a coffee in Costa before we went home, it was a bad decision, it was crowded and far too noisy so neither of us enjoyed it, but I guess it prepared us for the journey home, some football fans decided to serenade us and they kept up their chanting all the way to Rugby. If that wasn't bad enough the moron in front decided that the whole train had to listen to his music, it made me feel quite violent. Surprisingly Robbie was quite chilled he was in his own little world, lost in the detail of his Quail map! It was worth making the effort, we had a really good time despite the wild men with bagpipes and the problems on the train.

In Need of Therapy

Last Thursday Robbie had meetings in Milton Keynes, so he was able to enjoy a later start. I take Sam to school and Emily to work every morning, so I was able to drop Robbie at the station on the way. His legs were hurting, but he was on top form, and he was looking forward to the day. Sam was talking about swimming at school and Robbie mentioned that he would like to swim, he said the exercise would be good for him. So far so good, but his next sentence filled us all with horror, he announced that he would only swim in Speedos (or completely naked) apparently he isn't keen on baggy swimming shorts. Sam recoiled in horror while I told Robbie that in that case he shouldn't swim after all! Sam said that he will need a lifetime of therapy to cope with that image!

On a Serious Note

Even when I am feeling sad or angry I try to add a note of humour when I write the blog, I don't want it to just be a rant. Writing things down helps me to process the events of the day and often I can see something amusing in relatively ordinary situations, I hope that wry smile is evident in my writing.

Robbie's disability is a subject that I find especially difficult to write about because I know how strongly he feels about it. He wants to be recognised for his ability not his disability, he tries not to mention the intense pain he copes with most of the time and he doesn't like to draw attention to himself when he is finding it especially difficult to walk. He puts on a brave face and when the pain is so bad that he can't ignore it or when his legs don't do as they are told he relies on dark humour (and a few swear words) to help him cope.

I rarely mention his disability in any detail and when I do write about it I try to be fairly light hearted because he would hate it if I wrote a 'poor Robbie' type of blog entry, but that certainly doesn't mean I don't care. He can't hide his pain from me, I am the one who sees him first thing in the morning when can hardly move, I am the one who can tell at a glance that he is in more pain than usual, I know when he can't sleep because he can't get comfortable and I am the one on the receiving end of his frustration when the pain stops him doing the things he wants to do. Of course I care, I care very much, but I am also very proud of the way he copes and the way he always bounces back and just gets on with life.

So why am I writing about this now? Because there is a very fine line between smiling with someone to make light of a difficult situation, and laughing at someone. What may be appropriate banter in an informal family setting where there is absolute trust may be completely inappropriate and hurtful in a work setting. In fact it could even be seen as bullying! I think Robbie copes amazingly well, he is funny sometimes and there are times when he makes me laugh out loud, but I am not laughing at his disability, I am laughing because I love him and it is easier to get through life with smiles than tears.

Please be thoughtful about the problems that others face, don't be too quick to criticise, don't assume you know how they feel and be careful that what is intended as good natured banter does not cause hurt to the recipient. A few words of encouragement can work wonders if someone is having a bad day

Mr Bump

Robbie had a disagreement with his feet yesterday evening, he walked from the kitchen into the hall armed with a very large carrot (he was on his way to feed the guinea pig) when he slipped and fell. He hurt himself quite badly because he scraped against the furniture before he hit the floor. He has a badly bruised hip and side but it was his dignity that suffered the hardest knock. He was furious about falling, according to him there must have been a shiny patch on the floor that made him slip - I guess that makes it my fault! Robbie thought I was very unemotional and uncaring about his fall, it wasn't because I didn't care it was because I was trying to suppress an attack of the giggles. I could cope with the ranting but when he told me that his fall had been broken by a carrot the urge to laugh was overwhelming! Poor Robbie!

A Rather Special Person

People say that everyone remembers where they were when they heard that President Kennedy had died, they say the same about John Lennon and Elvis Presley too. I am too young to remember the death of Kennedy and I have no lasting memories about the other two, but I can vividly remember where I was and how I felt when I heard of the death of John Peel on 25th October 2004. The shock of the news hit me like a physical force. Without him my Saturday mornings would never be the same again. I have been a Radoi 4 addict for almost as long as I can remember and Home Truths with John Peel was the highlight of my week. Home Truths was a rather like John Peel, in touch with real people, interesting, eclectic, hard to define yet always charismatic. John was a natural communicator with an informal conversational style, and those of us who listened to him regularly felt that we knew him because he shared something of himself and his family with us.


In a way it was John Peel who led me to write the blog. I began bloging when my first husband Eric was ill with colon cancer. It started as a very practical way of keeping everyone up to date with how he was, I couldn't cope with everyone ringing every day, so the blog gave us the freedom to just be a family for a few more precious weeks. It was Home Truths that gave me the idea for the blog, sometime before John had interviewed a man who had used a blog to chronicle the last months of a terminally ill family member. I remembered the interview and I realised that a blog could help us too. It enabled Eric to keep in touch with all his friends and they could check on his progress and leave messages for him as often as they wanted. Gradually I noticed that the blog was helping me to process what was happening and after Eric died I continued to write blog, it kept me in touch with people and in a way it helped me to look beyond my grief. I have been blogging ever since.


Life moves on and sadly we have to part with some of the people we love along the way, but we will never forget them and our lives are so much richer because their lives touched ours.

A Quick Flash

Robbie was sitting at the table reading one of his magazines the other day while I was chatting to a friend online..He made several appreciative grunts and sighs which caught my attention  and when I looked up his expression told me that he was up to no good. He was unusually silent when I asked asked what he was reading and he looked as guilty as a kid caught with a top shelf magazine. He said that the photo on the centre page was awesome, grudgingly he lifted the magazine and opened it to give me a quick flash of his guilty pleasure - a milk float! That man needs help!

Issues with Underwear - and Worse!

Robbie and I had a lovely lazy morning and a leisurely lunch on Saturday, we are so busy during the week that it is extra special to enjoy time together in and feel completely unhurried at the weekend. After lunch we went shopping in town, Robbie needed some pants because according to him people keep stealing his knickers - why would they want his underwear? I wanted to buy a new bra and Robbie seemed perfectly happy to loiter in the lingerie department while I tried on the items that I liked. Sadly we left empty handed, I think I am the wrong shape for absolutely everything I want to buy; I am too wide, too short, and apparently I even have a difficult bust size. The odd thing is that every woman I speak to seems to think that clothes are not made for them, so isn't it about time that stores sold clothes that actually fit real women!


Robbie was keen to get to his beloved M&S. He spent so long looking at underwear that I almost lost the will to live. Either the type of material was wrong, the waistband was wrong or Robbie thought they would not keep everything in place. I got so bored that in the end I was very tempted to tell him to just go commando but I thought better of it - he doesn't need any encouragement! When he finally gave up on the pants I though we would finally be able to go and get a coffee, but that was only the start of our meander around the menswear department. Robbie fell in love with coats, raincoats, trousers, suits, ties and assorted accessories, but then his eyes fell on a shirt that he absolutely had to have. At first I thought he was joking, but no, he was deadly serious, he really wanted an expensive white shirt with little pink roses printed all over it! To say that it was hideous is an understatement, but I can honestly say that Robbie never ceases to surprise me!


After a shock like that I really needed a nice calming cup of coffee at Costa! Can I face going shopping for pants again next week or dare I let him go shopping on his own - I don't know!!

The Mystery of the Missing Pants

Robbie had a very busy weekend, we had a nice day together on Saturday, but in the afternoon I dropped him off at the station knowing that he would be away until the next evening because he was going milk float spotting with his friend on Sunday. According to him they were bus spotting and the milk floats just happened to be there, but I have my doubts, he has some very odd interests so I suspect that he is a closet milk float spotter and the buses are just a clever way of disguising his interest in milk floats! Anyway he had a lovely day out with his friend and he came back with lots of photos of buses - and milk floats!

While he was away I took the opportunity to sort out his drawers and wardrobe. When he came home his clothes were nicely folded and sorted into neat piles on the bed so that he could put them away in the correct drawers. One pile was topped by four pairs of his favourite M&S pants which he had previously alleged were missing. I sat on the bed and chatted to him as he put his clothes away - he likes to be in control of his drawers! Suddenly he complained that there was no underwear in his drawer and none on the bed. There was some underwear in his drawer but not his favourite type. I searched high and low for his pants, I knew they had been there earlier in the day so either we'd had the oddest burglary in history or Robbie had misappropriated his own knickers! Robbie was muttering darkly about being forced to go commando, so desperate measures were called for. An emergency load of washing was put on, so at least Robbie could go to work fully clothed for the next few days!! I searched everywhere for his missing 'smalls' and I finally found them hidden away on the top shelf of his wardrobe. So could it be a poltergeist with a preoccupation with pants or is Robbie losing his marbles?

Who am I?

It is such a long time since I last wrote the blog, It is a very strange time for me just now, lots of changes and new things to adjust to as well as a very busy time work wise, so I am struggling to cope with the blog. It isn't just that I struggle to find time for the blog, it is more about finding the right words, some things are too personal for the blog while other things things just seem to be difficult to put into words, but no doubt I will sort it out in time.


In my last post I wrote about Robbie changing the goal posts when we set out to go to York for lunch and ended up in Manchester instead. Some people seemed surprised that I didn't like his alternative suggestions about places to visit, so perhaps it is time that I wrote a little more about myself to explain the things that I like - and the things I don't like!


One of my favourite poems is Warning by Jenny Joseph, if you don't know the poem you can find it here
http://www.netmender.net/glenna/Purple.htm
I am not sure that I want to do some of the things that she mentioned in her poem, but I am enjoying life and I am definitely getting more reckless in my old age. So be warned, I have already started to wear purple!


I am not a hat person, I never have been. I hate people to touch my hair and as far as I am concerned having to go to the hairdressers is torture. The only hats I have ever possessed are riding hats and crash helmets. I take a large hat size and I can still remember the embarrassment of going to buy a new riding hat and telling the assistant my hat size only to be met with disbelief. It was a rather old fashioned shop with several different departments, rather like Grace Brothers in some ways. When the hat that the assistant had selected perched on my head like a pimple he would sigh as if I was doing it on purpose and we would go through the ordeal of trying on a succession of hats in ascending sizes. Finally we would find a hat that fitted and the assistant would grudgingly admit that I was absolutely right about my hat size!
So for me the mere mention of hats evokes feelings of discomfort, humiliation and messed up hair - I hate hats!


I love history, art, poetry and all sorts of other thing and I am passionate about books, I love bookshops of all kinds, but to me second hand bookshops are best of all. I could happily spend a whole day in a bookshop. One of my favourite place to visit is the National portrait gallery, but I loved visiting the National Railway Museum and I am really keen to go back there again.

Manchester Piccadilly

When diplomatic relations had been restored on Saturday morning we decided to go out on the train to have lunch at York. All was going well until Robbie decided to change the goal posts and started chatting to his friend (via blackberry) about alternative places to go. I don't like it when he tries to change the arrangements in that way. He came up with all sorts of crazy ideas about places to go, it didn't really matter where we went because we were only going out for lunch but I was getting increasingly irritated with all the silly suggestions. An old library, a hat museum (whoever wants to go to a hat museum?) and assorted ancient or historical places - were they trying to say that I am an old relic?


In the end I agreed to go to Manchester but just for lunch, not to the library. When we caught the train at Birmingham first class was packed, but we managed to find a seat. Robbie said that it was probably busy because everyone was going to the Labour conference. If that is the case judging by the elderly occupants of our train the Labour Party will probably die out within 15 years!


I liked the station at Manchester, but as soon as we got outside I was scared and I didn't want to go far because it was so noisy and crowded. As it turned out we has a lovely time, we went to the Ian Allan bookshop, I could have spent hours in there it was brilliant! Finally we had to drag ourselves away and we went to Costa before heading back to the station. It was a nice day.

The Straw That Broke the Camel's Back

Marriages, if they are going to work at all have to have an element of give and take. Sometimes if people love each other and they take time to talk things through and really listen to each other it is possible to overcome even the most difficult issues. However everyone has their breaking point and it can be a seemingly minor issue that tips the balance. It has been a bit like that with us recently.

In August Robbie and I had the most amazing holiday, all on our own with no children. It allowed us to really enjoy each other's company, we talked, laughed, enjoyed being close and most importantly we listened to each other. Within the space of a few days we had reviewed and redefined the boundaries of our marriage, in a way which recognised the needs and feelings of each of us. I am not talking about the imposition of a narrow and suffocating set of rules, this was the sort of unity that enables each person to be who they are, while respecting the needs and feelings of the other. When we got back from holiday we were determined to nurture our relationship, by making time to be together and to have fun, even when that means taking a few hours away from the demands of family and household responsibilities. So far we have managed to do that and it has been really good.

So here comes the 'but'. In every relationship there are issues that are guaranteed to cause friction and things that the one partner does that the other is uncomfortable about. I am sure Robbie could provide a long list of things that I do that annoy him, but for me the one thing that bothers me far more than any of the other things is his involvement in the union. I mind for lots of reasons; he has taken on far more than it is reasonable for one person to do and I think he is spreading himself too thin. I don't like the union, I think they talk a lot of nonsense and I think they have changed him in a way that is deeply unattractive. More than anything else I don't like the union taking away our family time, I don't like the way they behave and I think it has led him to make some very poor choices. Of course he would say that I was wrong on every count, but I am judging by actions not just words.

I'd had issues in the past, especially when he went to Dublin earlier in the year, but we had put those behind us, so I didn't have too many concerns about him going on a training course on Thursday. Unfortunately things went down hill from there, he promised that he would ring me in the evening, so after work I looked forward to his call, I didn't want to ring him because I wasn't sure what he would be doing and I didn't want to interrupt. The call didn't come so eventually I took the phone to bed with me and read a book while I was waiting. I must have fallen asleep because I was woken soon after 2am by a text arriving. It was the briefest text informing me that he had been out and was going to bed. I was really hurt, how much effort would it have taken to make a quick phone call at some point during the evening.

The final straw came in the morning when he compounded the problem by not ringing me. When I finally spoke to him he said that he had forgotten about me, poor choice of words perhaps, but that was the final straw - I would never forget about him!! An argument followed and small as this incident was it had tipped the balance for me and I gave him the choice - me or the union. Robbie has always been a slow learner, he chose the union! Lets just say that Friday wasn't a pleasant day for either of us. I walked around the house thinking how much space I would have if I got rid of all his junk and he spent the day telling me that I was totally unreasonable. It was stalemate! Robbie has never understood that when in a hole you should stop digging. He decided to 'light the blue touch paper' by leaving a comment on facebook agreeing that the course was fantastic, I am not sure if it was the comment that annoyed me most or the fact that the woman whose status he was responding to had a rather dubious, near naked profile photo! If I was angry before I was furious after that!

Saturday morning dawned and Robbie's negating style of giving no ground and and insisting that I was totally unreasonable was making matters worse. I will not say how he won me over but if he tried that tactic on anyone else I would kill him!! The result is that he has agreed to give up most of his union work by November and I have agreed to accept him keeping the health and safety stuff. This brings us back to the level of involvement that he had when we got married. He is not entirely forgiven but we are working on it!!

A Knicker Nicker - Surely Not?

Robbie decided to abandon me on Thursday to go on another pointless union course. He was only going for one day and one night but he packed enough for a week, how many shirts can one man wear in a day? He wasted all the previous evening packing and working out his travel arrangements to Birmingham - a journey that he should be familiar with by now as he does it every week day! After all the messing around I expected him to be totally organised and ready to leave in good time for his train on Thursday morning - I was wrong! I woke him up on time, I even managed to get him out of bed without too much difficulty, but it all went wrong after that.


When I got up I realised that his arrival in the bathroom had been seriously delayed and when I went downstairs to investigate I found him trotting around in his knickers muttering obscenities. According to Robbie someone had stolen his knickers to prevent him going on the course! I had plenty of good reasons to stop him going on the course, but if I had set my mind on keeping him at home I could have achieved my objective without resorting to pant pilfering! I went up to the bedroom and found half a dozen pairs of Robbie's pants, but when I offered them to him he found reasons to reject every pair as unsuitable in some way. He insisted that he had to have his best pants for the course (perhaps they help him to think better!) and he plodded off in search of the perfect pair of pants.


In the end he settled for an 'inferior' pair to pack in his case and he insisted that his best pants had been stolen. By this time we were in the car racing towards the station in time for hid train. I tried to make him review the evidence, Sam is skinny and he couldn't possibly wear Robbie size garments, the girls have an interesting selection of underwear but it is somewhat skimpier than Robbie's, neither of them has a use for the kind that he wears. So who nicked the knickers? The only person I know who wears trunks like Robbie is Homer Simpson, but I believe he prefers white rather than black. The truth is that there was no conspiracy to steal his pants, he just hadn't looked in the right place - they were in the tumble dryer!

Writers Block

There are a number of things that prevent me writing the blog. Sometimes I am very busy and despite my best intentions I fall behind with the blog. I try not to write when I am feeling very unhappy or angry because it doesn't seem fair on whoever I am angry with. I don't write very much about Sam because he doesn't like being written about and I am cautious about how much I write about the rest of our family. As if those reasons were not enough a new reason has popped up recently - I am really happy! I don't mean that I am usually unhappy, but right now I am enjoying life so much that I am struggling to find the time and energy for the blog as well, but this weekend I have promised myself that I will catch up and get back into a routine with the blog.

Showing Her Metal

In our family Emily is the geeky one, very clever, very creative but not always the most practical, and every now and then she will entertain us all with an 'Emily special' - her own brand of dim comment. One of her recent dippy remarks happened when we were driving into Leicester for her graduation. I saw a signpost and commented on a place name that sounded familiar. "Oh yes" said Emily, "there's a bus that goes there". It took a while before she realised why we were laughing.

Laura on the other hand in just as clever but very practical and street wise, so I was rather shocked when she made an Emily type remark. She has been looking a bit pale and tired recently, so I told her she should get some iron tablets. The next time I saw her she told me that she had looked for iron tablets at Boots but couldn't find any. I told her she must have been looking in the wrong place, but she was sure she had the right place because she saw some zinc tablets. She then announced that she had been tempted to just get the zinc tablets because zinc is quite close to iron in the periodic table!!

A Troubling Obsession?

When we were on the train on Sunday Robbie waited until I was relaxed and comfortable, then he rummaged in his rucksack and brought out a leaflet. He opened the leaflet and slid it across the table towards me with a big grin on his face. There were pictures of old buses (Robbie is a bit of a closet bus spotter!) but my eyes fell on a much more troubling picture of milk floats. This place (I can't remember where it was - I was too traumatised!) has a collection of milk floats. Why would anyone want a collection of milk floats? I hate milk floats even more than I hate Volvos, they get in my way, they park inconsiderately and and they always seem to be driven by fiercely ugly old men. As far as I am concerned the only sensible thing to do with a milk float is to blow it up 'Braniacs' style!

I gave Robbie a steady stare, I can put up with a lot, I don't mind his obsession with trains, I can tolerate his 'thing' about buses but if he is going to get into milk floats that is a step too far, its unnatural, in fact it's scarily weird. Robbie guiltily admitted that he wanted to go to see the buses with a friend of his. I grudging agreed on the strict understanding NO MILK FLOATS! I can tolerate most of his enthusiasms but milk floats are a step too far!

Unbelieveable!

Just when I think I understand Robbie he does something totally weird and it leaves me feeling that I will never really see the world through his eyes. Yesterday as we were relaxing on the train, he announced that he'd had to make a serious complaint and he was very annoyed that he hadn't had a reply yet. I thought that he was perhaps talking about a railway safety issue or something like that but I was wrong. His complaint was about McDonalds in Birmingham, apparently they are not building their sausage and egg bagels to the correct specification! It wouldn't bother me a jot because I don't like McDonalds food, but apparently Robbie has provided them with a list of times and dates when he was sold incorrectly built breakfast bagels! Surely he must have more important things to worry about, in fact surely he could find better things to spend his money on!

Out To Play

Robbie abandoned me in favour of his first love on Friday night and Saturday - he was on a rail tour with Royal Scots Grey (his favourite deltic! I can't complain because he hasn't been on a rail tour for a while, but I really missed him. He got home on Saturday evening so it wasn't too bad, he was very tired but he still found the energy to talk non stop about the rail tour!

We had planned to go to London for the day on Sunday, but getting up early proved more of a challenge than usual, so we snuggled back under the covers and postponed our day in London until next month. We didn't waste the whole day, but it was almost noon when we arrived at Northampton Station to board a train bound for Birmingham.

Robbie likes to buy a Latte for the journey, I hardly ever drink coffee but I had a hot chocolate instead. The last time we went out I managed to spill hot my drink on my sleeve so this time Robbie carried both drinks while I trotted along behind carrying the bags. He claims he has the knack of carrying drinks without spilling them - I don't know about that but, he certainly has a captivating wiggle!

We went to Doncaster (just because we could) and then we came back again. It was totally mad, but lots of fun, and we experienced a very rare phenomenon - a CrossCountry Voyager with a fully functioning toilet! The one on the outward journey was a bit of a let down because the door did not close properly and the hand dryer was faulty, but on the return journey the loo was passably clean and in full working order.`Miracles do happen!!

An Early Night!

Robbie often promises me an early night but for all sorts of reasons we don't get to bed until much later than planned. So earlier this week it was a nice change to find ourselves in bed reasonably early. Robbie went through his usual rituals including setting the alarm on his blackberry so that it would wake the alarm clock up. Then he reached across and picked up a yellow A4 folder containing early copies of Model Rail magazine, he proceeded to tell me about the history of the magazine, the variations in content over the years - he even listed the issues that were missing from his collection. I was wide awake when I went to bed, but it is surprising how quickly I fell asleep!

The Things You Do For Love!

I have always known that Robbie and I have different tastes. Mostly I give in to his demands because I love him, I even let him eat onion rings - but I don't let him get anywhere near me afterwards! I can cope with his fashion sense, his music, his railway obsession and countless other things, but I have my limits. On Wednesday evening he begged me to do something that was way beyond my comfort zone, I told him that it was too weird, but eventually I gave in and let him watch Fred Dibnah on TV!!

Being Anal

I was reading a thread on a forum the other day about the things that people are anal about, it made me laugh out loud because the very first post could have been describing Robbie.


"....he emerges from the bathroom holding the toothpaste asking who has failed to squeeze from the bottom of the tube!"


As I read on I realised that so many of the posts could have been describing Robbie. Someone wrote about their partner driving them mad by constant checking and commenting on railway and bus timetables. Surely there can't be anyone else as bad as Robbie for doing that - or do all train planners take their quail maps to bed with them?


Another common theme was having to have tea or coffee made in exactly the right way. Robbie is impossible about the way his coffee has to be made and he criticises me every time I make coffee for him, so I find it easier to let him make it himself.


Robbie even has strong opinions about the loo roll! According to him it unrolls more efficiently if the end is on top rather than underneath. I don't think I even notice which way round it is, why would anyone obsess about anything so trivial?


In the interest of fairness I should perhaps admit to the one thing mentioned that I am obsessive about - black ink! Blue ink should never ever be used, black
looks so much nicer. Robbie is into pens in a big way, especially Parker pens, he could talk forever about all the different designs - and if anyone borrows his pens it is a hanging offence!


When I first met Robbie I thought it was odd that he counted the stairs every time he went up or down, but I soon realised that was mild, Robbie counts everything. This evening I caught him counting the increasing revs on the washing machine spin cycle, he could tell the speed just by listening to it and when it reached the maximum speed of 1400 he got so excited - seriously weird and more than a little autistic!

Back to Norfolk

My mum and step father (David) had asked us to go back to Norfolk for an overnight stay on Friday to help them with the packing and to bring their larger items of luggage home. David is feeling very frail at the moment because he has kidney cancer and he is a awaiting an operation to remove his kidney, so things that he used to do easily now leave him feeling totally exhausted. We were pleased to be able to help, so late on Friday afternoon we drove back to Walcott. As well as packing and loading the car we found time to take an evening walk by the sea, it was lovely, there is something so special about that place.

We were up early the next morning, to get the final cleaning and packing done, before long the car was packed, and Robbie and I took one last walk by the sea. The beach has changed so much in the last couple of weeks and some of the bungalows already have their shutters up ready for the winter. I wish I could turn back time to keep the summer and have our fortnight in Walcott ahead of us again. Reluctantly we said farewell to the bungalow and drove away from Walcott - but we only went as far as Mundesley. We parked the car and walked down to the beach to sit in the sunshine looking out at the sea and just enjoying being together. Then we went for breakfast at the cafe before heading home.