Thursday 29 December 2011

Finding the Magic of Christmas

I often think that we have got it all wrong when it comes to Christmas we get so tied up with buying presents and   Christmas food becomes an ordeal from start to finish - shopping for it, to storing it, cooking it and digesting it! Despite all my good intentions Christmas crept up on me and I was as disorganised as ever. I had been stashing presents away for months, just little things for Robbie, he is a big kid when it comes to Christmas and it makes me so happy to watch him opening his presents. I had been reasonably organised about presents for other family members, our children provide lists now, so that's easy and buying for my young niece and nephews is a pleasure. Finding the money is a bit more of a challenge, but that is the same for everyone. 


The bits of Christmas that I find challenging include getting the Christmas tree and decorations out of the loft, putting the tree up - and tidying up the mess afterwards! Arguing about where best to put the tree and acting as referee in the annual argument about whose turn it is to have their angel on top of the tree this year. The food shopping is probably the biggest headache, affording it, making sure that we have enough food while trying not to buy so much that it will be wasted. It is just such an effort tackling the supermarket, unloading the shopping and packing it into the fridge and freezer. Then I have to cope with Robbie huffing and puffing because the fridge is not packed correctly and things are in the wrong place in the freezer. Last but not least is wrapping, I quite like wrapping up presents but suddenly everything has to be wrapped at once and however well prepared I think I am, I find that someone has 'borrowed' the scissors, or the sellotape - or both!


This year was like every other year,  by Christmas morning I was exhausted and it was a real struggle to get up and join in the fun of present opening, but the excitement of gift giving works it's magic and memories of other Christmas mornings fill my mind, distant memories of my own childhood when Santa always left shiny new coins at the bottom of my stocking. Then there are the special Christmas memories of my own children when they were little. One daughter asked Santa to bring her a sheep - that was one Christmas wish that didn't come true. There was the time when I was filming both daughters singing Christmas carols for their grandma and the little one (age 4) kept stopping to tell her older sister off for singing her part, it was so funny. My favourite memory of my son at Christmas was when he was a shepherd in the nativity play, he was 3 or 4 at the time and he walked up to Mary and Joseph swinging his knitted lamb around by by it's tail!


Like snowflakes, my Christmas memories gather and dance - each beautiful, unique and too soon gone. ~Deborah Whipp

In the end the food and the presents don't matter so much, it is being together that counts, family time taking pleasure in the special people around us. Christmas may be hard work but this year just as every other year, sharing the day with all the people I love made it all worthwhile.

Saturday 24 December 2011

Least Said Soonest Mended

Photo by BJN
Life with Robbie has it's challenges as well as many pleasures and there are many occasions when I struggle to hold my tongue, but as a parent I have a lot of experience when it comes to counting to ten and keeping my thoughts to myself. I am sure my children would say that I nag, but I am careful to choose my battles. My son and I had a bit of a spat the other day, we had arranged to have a pre Christmas family day with my parents and my brother's family. 'The nameless one' was adamant that he had not been told about it and he was not happy about having his routine changed. He came with us and he had a great time, but he was still deeply annoyed about our spat mostly because Robbie had joined in and had told him several times that family comes first. I think what Robbie said was true, but you don't always achieve the best results by stating the obvious and this was one of those occasions when it would have been better to let my son calm down with as little argument as possible. When he spoke to me about it a couple of days later I told my son that I was glad that he had removed himself from the situation rather than making the argument worse. He said "Mum, do you know how often I hold my tongue? I could have written War and Peace with all the words I haven't said to Robbie!" The way he expressed it made me smile but I recognised the truth in his statement. Robbie and I argue more than may be good for us, and I there are times when I give him his answer loud and clear, but I am careful that I don't say anything I would regret later. I don't like the arguments, the making up is fun!

Wednesday 14 December 2011

A Railway Rant

Robbie has been really struggling mobility wise recently, in fact at the end of last week he was so bad that he simply couldn't make it to work and he had to work from home. This week it has been a real struggle for him but he has got himself to work. At times like this he has to plan his journey even more carefully than usual, making sure that he travels on a train that gives him more leg room and planning his return journey so that it works well with his bus connections and does not involve an excessive amount of standing around in the the cold. 


Yesterday his train home was running on time, but it was delayed at Rugby to allow a freight train that was running late to go ahead of the passenger train. This caused great inconvenience to the passengers as the train arrived at Northampton 12 minutes late. Meaning that Robbie missed his bus - and at that time in the evening buses are not very frequent. He was forced to walk to the bus station, a long walk when you are in pain, all up hill, and just to make matters worse it was freezing cold and raining heavily. By this time he had missed his connecting bus too, so he had a long cold wait at the bus station. It was passed 9.30pm when he eventually got home, and by then he was in agony.


Unfortunately this issue of a passenger train being delayed at Rugby in favour of a late freight train is a frequent problem for passengers. Robbie expressed his frustration (rather mildly in the circumstances) on facebook. He was met with a barrage of criticism from one person who works for a company which until now I have trusted and respected. Among his various unhelpful comments was a suggestion that Robbie should just put up with it and that he detested passengers claiming compensation because it takes money out of the railways. He also said 'thats the joy of public transport' and 'if you don't like it get a car' I was staggered by his attitude, it makes me wonder how many other people think like that. It certainly makes me wonder if the company he works for shares his lack of respect for passengers! Passengers have paid for a service and they should complain when things go wrong, especially if the same problem happens often. It is the only way to make rail operators understand how much inconvenience it causes and hopefully this in turn will lead to better service. It really isn't about compensation, nothing could compensate for such a miserable end to Robbie's day. If a train is delayed by a tragedy or by problems arising from bad weather that's one thing, and most passengers would be understanding about that, but to deliberately delay a passenger train that was running on time to accommodate a late running freight train has to be wrong. 


I understand that the railway has many customers and freight companies need to make a living too, but whatever the rules say, it is not unreasonable for passengers to expect their trains to be punctual and to expect that consideration will be given to their needs.  

Tuesday 13 December 2011

Strange Animal Spotted in Cornwall

Photo by nirutha 
There are many tales of strange animals being spotted around Cornwall, but as this story involves Robbie it is a little stranger than most. For 200 years there have been reports of sightings of a sea monster in Falmouth Bay, known as Morgawr it is said to be over 20 feet long with an 8ft tail, scaly legs and a horned head. There have been sightings of the Beast of Bodmin Moor, a panther like creature since 1971 but it (or more likely 'they') have never been caught. So when Robbie told me that he had spotted a very strange looking animal while watching a television program set in Cornwall I was prepared to believe him until we used the rewind facility, the strange animal proved to be a sheep!! I was incredulous, he may work in Birmingham, but he grew up in a rural area so he must have seen a sheep before. His excuse was that he didn't know that sheep could have different faces!  

Sunday 11 December 2011

Smooth seas do not make skillful sailors. ~ African Proverb

It has been a challenging weekend, Robbie has been reduced to a standstill by his misbehaving legs and other assorted problems. I hate to see him in so much pain especially when there is nothing I can do except let him moan at me, it makes me feel so useless. I really do try my best not to mind when he moans, I know it is just his frustration and discomfort speaking, but I have to confess that he gets his answer sometimes. It is at times like this that I wish we lived next to a busy railway line because then he could time the trains to the second and think up better ways to run the railway instead of interfering with the way I do things!  I try (and sometimes fail) to smile sweetly and remember the words of G K Chesterton 'Do not free a camel of the burden of his hump; you may be freeing him from being a camel'. Perhaps being grumpy helps him to deal with the pain.

We didn't put the Christmas tree up as planned because there was now way that Robbie could get into the loft and while I may have been able to get in, I was very doubtful about my ability to get out again. I will ask 'the son who must not be named' to get the tree down - when Robbie is not there to supervise! Daughter number two finally produced her Christmas wish list so thanks to the internet I was able to get on with my Christmas shopping without leaving the house. I have almost finished my shopping for presents, but the food shopping is still looming large on the horizon. We didn't go out except to get a few essential groceries, and a non essential and terribly sinful bread and butter pudding - my favourite! Even when he is not well Robbie still manages to tempt me to wickedness! 

One nice thing about this weekend was that I had time to catch up with writing the blog and I was able to chat online to a friend that I don't get the chance to chat to very often. It is nice to chat sometimes, it helps me to understand people better, it helps to put my thoughts in order and it reminds me to value the things that are really important in life and not to stress to much about the things that don't really matter. Robbie may be challenging at times, he may have his own unique way of doing things and he may have all the sensitivity of a rhinoceros at full charge, but when it comes to the things that really matter he doesn't let me down and I wouldn't swap him for the world!

Friday 9 December 2011

'There must be quite a few things that a hot bath won't cure, but I don't know many of them' - Sylvia Plath

Photo by Linneabe
A am a bath person, there is nothing I like more Than a long soak in a hot bath while listening to Radio 4. Robbie on the other hand is a shower person, and being a train planner his ablutions are timed to the second and they have to be performed in the correct order! So a leisurely bath is an unfamiliar experience for Robbie, but he was in so much today that he look my advice and plodded off to have a hot bath to ease his pain. I was busy so it was a while before i looked up from my work and realised that he had been gone for a very long time. I listened and it was suspiciously quiet, I could hear the radio but there was no splashing and no sound of movement - and Robbie is never quiet. I rushed to the bathroom to find out what was wrong and I found that he was sound asleep. He had slid down in the bath and his face was only just above water! I shouted at him to wake him up but he didn't even flinch and I was cross with him for scaring me, so I poured water over him, that woke him up! In future he can stick to showers, there is less chance of him drowning in the shower!

I don't say we all ought to misbehave, but we ought to look as if we could - Orson Wells

Photo by Venteco
I came across the quote above (in the title) recently and I liked it very much because it makes me think of Robbie. It seems to sum him up perfectly, there is a mischievous twinkle in his eyes and you can never be sure that he will not misbehave. Unfortunately it is also true of his legs, even when he seems to be walking well you can never be completely sure that they will not misbehave. Sometimes they stop him in his tracks refusing to move at all, sometime one leg just gives way leaving him in a heap on the floor, but more often than not they just hurt really badly and walking or even just sitting still becomes an endurance test. 
Most people will know that Robbie hates what he refers to as 'green trains' with a passion. They are used by London Midland on his route to work and they simply don't offer him enough leg room to sit for an hour (to or from Birmingham) without unbearable pain. He goes to a lot of trouble to plan his journeys so that he avoids them. He gets up stupidly early every morning just to catch a 'blue train' to work and have a less painful journey. When he can't avoid the 'green trains' he has to break his journey at Coventry and wait for a train with more leg room. It takes such a lot of effort just to make a simple journey and it makes him very tired because he has a very long day, so it is not surprising that I worry about him. I have to be very careful what I say because he hates to make a fuss about his pain or to admit that he struggles sometimes. He will be cross with me for mentioning it, but my greatest fear is of him falling down the side of a train. He says it is just an irrational fear and I am being silly, but it has happened to him before and if it happened again I know he could get badly hurt. 


Yesterday when I got home from work I was very concerned because it was clear that he was in considerable pain. He wasn't exactly walking like John Wayne, more like John Wayne's grandad and every movement seemed to be agony for him. I did my best to help, but the frustrating thing is that there is so little I can do except to nag him to take his tablets. I try my best to tell him to be careful, but he still does as he likes. I admire him for that, he hates to give in, but I am so relieved that he had the sense to work from home today. 

Thursday 8 December 2011

He who has health has hope; and he who has hope has everything ~ Arabic Proverb

I went to the doctors in mid November for my annual review and made the mistake of commenting that I was feeling well and that my breathing was good (I have asthma). The very next day I had a sore throat and started sneezing - typical! I have now had a cold, sore throat and horrible chesty cough for three weeks and I am struggling to breathe. It is just a cold and it is annoying rather than serious, but it turns ordinary life into a real effort because I have no energy.


Putting up with a cold is really not such a big deal in comparison with Robbie who has to cope with more or less constant leg and back pain because of his spina bifida. I know he can be challenging at home sometimes but I think he does remarkably well to remain cheerful, determined and positive most of the time. I feel really sorry for him this week because his legs are misbehaving and he has got my cold, he was burning up last night but he was determined not to miss work, he has some important deadlines looming and he has his Christmas meal today - I hope he is well enough to enjoy it

Wednesday 7 December 2011

An Emergency Coffee Cup

Mornings in our house have a nasty habit of starting too early and even when we are up on time (5am) it only takes one thing to go wrong to mess up the whole day. That was the case last Friday, everything was going well, Robbie dressed only in pants and socks trotted into the kitchen clutching his trousers to flick the kettle on before vanishing into the lounge. He emerged 'suited and booted' a couple of minutes later and headed back to the kitchen to make his coffee for the train. He took the milk from the fridge, reached for the coffee and then stopped in his tracks. There was a missing ingredient - his travel mug! Suddenly the tune Yakety Sax began to play in my head as Robbie jumped into fast forward mode (Benny Hill style), darting around the house in search of his mug. It was not there, and now Robbie was running late. I chased him out to the car and drove him to the station as fast as the speed limit would allow. He was devastated, his favourite mug was gone, probably left on the train the night before! He dashed off into the station with just enough time to console himself with a quick visit to the coffee shop before boarding the train. 


Later that morning as promised I set out in search of an emergency replacement mug. I managed to get one just like the missing one, it was the last one in the shop so he was very lucky. Robbie has checked, but the other mug has not found it's way to lost property. Perhaps it got bored with travelling to Birmingham every day - I certainly would!

Tuesday 6 December 2011

Some Things Are Not Meant to Happen

I don't work on a Friday, or to be more accurate I don't go to one of my jobs on a Friday, but instead I run around like a headless chicken trying to catch up with all the jobs that I haven't managed to fit in during the week. Last Friday was more chaotic than ever because I was getting everything ready for a weekend trip to Plymouth to deliver Christmas presents to my in laws and to my niece and nephew. So by the time I sank into bed I was so tired that could hardly stay awake long enough to set the alarm clock.


Saturday mornings are not designed for getting up early so when the alarm clock went off at 4.30am I found it very hard to drag myself out of bed and even harder to prod 'sleeping beauty' into action. By quarter past six or thereabouts (Robbie hates it when I am so vague about train times!) Robbie, my son and I were safely on board the train to Birmingham New Street ready to begin our journey to the South West. 


My son was idly looking through his film magazine when he looked up and informed me that he had something else to add to his Christmas list. He will be 17 just days before Christmas and he has a keen interest in clothes, fashion and grooming products. As I have mentioned in previous posts, he has his own particular style. He likes skinny chinos, polo shirts, bow ties, shoes of all kinds and just like Robbie he has a passion for bags, rucksacks and wallets. I thought that the new item for his wish list would be clothing of some sort but I was almost speechless when he told me that he wanted a onesie! I asked if he was serious and he patiently explained that they are very popular this year. He wants a black one with a skeleton design, he is tall and thin, but even so I can't imagine that a onesie will be very flattering. He told me about some of the other designs he has seen recently including one with a Superman theme, a tiger, a cat, a panda and a devil as well as some more 'ordinary' designs.


I was just getting used to the idea of a skeleton wandering around the house when Robbie dropped his bombshell. He had been listening to our conversation and he also wants a onesie! There are some things, such as me having my belly button pierced, that are just not meant to happen. Robbie in a onesie really has to be one of those things that should never happen. All sorts of images flashed through my mind from Dell Boy dressed as Batman to a middle aged Andy Pandy! Life is challenging enough already and having Robbie trotting around the house in a onesie (and no doubt attempting to go outside in it) is more than I can cope with!

Saturday 3 December 2011

All I Want for Christmas Is ................

Now that shopping and all the preparations for Christmas are in full swing I find myself thinking longingly of the days when I the children were little and shopping was so much easier. Back then money was still tight but almost everything wanted could be bought in one visit to Toys r Us, and when they woke up on Christmas morning their stockings were bulging. Now if their wish lists involve more effort in terms of shopping, have a bigger price tag and when the presents are wrapped and tucked under the tree they don't look very impressive, they certainly wouldn't fill a stocking! 

I still have younger children to buy for, three nephews and a niece and I have to admit that shopping for them has been the most enjoyable part of Christmas for me. My niece is 10, very grown up and very interested in fashion, so the main part of her present had a fashion design theme. She also loves reading, so I decided to buy her two books that I loved when I was young. It was hard to choose just two books, but it was very enjoyable to remember so many of the books that I enjoyed as a child. In the end I chose Charlotte Sometimes and Tom's Midnight Garden, both books had a similar theme, the connection between the past and the present. I hope she will enjoy them as much as I did.


My three year old nephew will be getting books as part of his present too. I bought him a set of Richard Scarry books and when Robbie saw them I thought he was going to burst with excitement. Apparently 'Cars, Trucks and Things That Go' was Robbie's favourite book when he was little, so I am sure he will enjoy reading the books with Oliver. The other part of his present also caused Robbie to reminisce, I bought him a Tonka truck. According to Robbie they were much better in the old days, but when he thought I wasn't looking I caught him admiring the new truck which makes realistic engine noises and has a special tool to change the tyres. 


I also caught my son looking longingly at my 5 year old nephew's present. I had chosen Transformers for him because he is car mad and I remembered how much my son liked Transformers. My son commented that it made him feel like adding a transformer toy to his own Christmas list - I wish he would, it would be a lot cheaper and less complicated than some of the things he wants!


It seems to me that part of the pleasure of Christmas comes from remembering the things and the people that made past Christmases special. I wonder what we will remember when we look back on this Christmas?

Tuesday 29 November 2011

A Good Start in Life?

I love all my children very much, they are all different with different strengths and abilities, different ambitions and very different outlooks on life. My younger daughter has loads of ambition, she is clever, hard working and determined. She does things her way and she makes her own mind, in fact she is every bit as stubborn as me! All the children had the same start, going to church and Sunday school and growing up with strong values. However younger daughter has always taken a pride in being 'the token heathen' in our family. I was pleasantly surprised the other day when she mentioned that she was the only one in her seminar group at university who knew that a reference  to the plagues of Egypt related to the Bible and to Moses leading the Hebrew people out of Egypt. I was shocked because I thought most people would know that, but I was pleased that she still remembered. It was only then that she announced "I remembered watching it on the Rugrats". Oh well at least she remembered. It will make me think more kindly about American television in future, at least something good came out of it - but I still haven't forgiven them for Kenan and Kell, I detested it because it was loud and stupid but my children loved it!

Saturday 26 November 2011

Revenge of the Roses

I guess you could say that Robbie and I have both become victims of the unusually mild weather. On Thursday evening when Robbie went out to the car (the drive is at the side of the house) he was attacked - by a rose. The rose won! It had attempted to strangle him but he fought bravely and escaped with several rather alarming cuts and scratches. Usually by this time the roses would have been cut back, but until last week they were still flowering and I didn't have the heart to get rid of them. Robbie insisted that the rose had reached out across the path to get him but I didn't quite believe him until I saw it in daylight this morning. It seems that our climbing rose thinks it is a triffid! It has moved itself and it's trellis away from the wall and it is reaching across the garden path ready to attack anyone who attempts to pass.


I took a good look at the roses and decided that I would cut them back today after I had done all my errands. As always on my day off I had lots of running around to do, hairdressers, post office to pick up a parcel, chemist to collect a prescription and of course the usual bits and bobs of shopping. When I got home after all the errands I promised myself a nice cup of tea and a sit down as soon as I had unpacked the car, but the rose tree had other ideas. I dashed along the path from the front door towards the drive to fetch more bags from the car. I successfully dodged the rose, but there was gravel on the path following Robbie's scuffle with the rose. I slipped on it and sprawled headlong onto the drive causing cuts and bruises to my hands, knee and other assorted body parts - it really hurt!


So it is time to get serious. That rose tree will find itself cut down to size this weekend. It is bad enough trying to cope with Robbie and the family, I don't have time to do battle with stroppy plants as well!

Thursday 24 November 2011

In A Word

Robbie is more into facebook than I am. Being 'old' I only add friends that I know in real life and I don't update my status unless I have something meaningful to say. Robbie on the other hand writes about anything and everything - mostly trains. His almost daily bulletins on the state of the toilets on the London Midland services that he travels on generate considerable debate, only Robbie could cause people to get so passionate about toilets!


On Monday he asked his friends on facebook to describe him in just one word. I found the results very interesting, I think his friends were rather kind to him, but from their choice of words it seems they know him fairly well. Have a look at the diagram and see what you think - by the way it was me who summed him up with the word 'impossible'.

Tuesday 22 November 2011

Stir up Sunday

Last Sunday was Stir-up Sunday the traditional time to make Christmas pudding. I was exhausted after our busy day and eventful evening on Saturday and the idea of making all that mess in the kitchen and boiling a Christmas pudding for hours on end made me pull the covers over my head and forget about getting up for just a little longer. There are times when having Robbie around can be challenging and cooking anything out of the ordinary fits that category. He looms silently radiating disapproval until he finds the courage to speak. At first it will be criticism of the utensils I have chosen to use and he will busy himself by putting away items that I am still using! Then as his confidence grows he will offer advice on how to do it better even if it is something he has never done before! That is when it starts getting dangerous, because I can only tolerate so much before I snap. It ether ends in a full scale row with Robbie stomping off to lick his wounds or I storm off and tell him to get on with it if he knows so much about it! On balance it is a lot safer to buy our Christmas puddings from the supermarket.


The name Stir-up Sunday  has its roots in the Anglican church, the collect of the day (from the Book of Common Prayer) which begins with the words 'stir up'. 


Stir up, we beseech thee, O Lord, the wills of thy faithful people; that they, plenteously bringing forth the fruit of good works, may of thee be plenteously rewarded; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.


Traditionally the pudding was made of 13 ingredients to represent Jesus and his twelve disciples. As the pudding was being mixed each member of the family would take a turn to stir the pudding, moving the spoon from east to west to remember the journey of the three kings. When the pudding was cooked on Christmas Day it was garnished with a sprig of holly, this represented the crown of thorns worn by Jesus on the cross and just before the pudding was cut a little brandy was tipped on it and set alight, a reminder of the fire if the Holy Spirit.


I remember helping my grandma to make the Christmas Puddings when I was little. I doubt she made it on Stir-up Sunday, she was a Methodist and she had a very long list of things that should not be done on Sundays! All the family would have a turn to stir the pudding and make a wish. Oddly I don't remember my grandma ever telling me the story about the Christmas pudding and if she had been aware of it she certainly would have done. She shared a birthday with Jesus and she seemed to think that it gave her a special connection to God. According to her He disapproved of all the things that she disapproved of - especially women wearing trousers! She certainly wouldn't have approved of me buying a Christmas pudding from Tesco, but that is what I plan to do. The only person in our family who really likes Christmas pudding is Robbie and by the time we get to the pudding even Robbie (who never refuses food) struggles to clear his plate.


I don't feel too much regret about this particular tradition having died out in our family, we have our own traditions. My mum's mince pies are the highlight of my Christmas, she makes the best pastry in the world - but I have to watch Robbie otherwise he would empty the whole tin! 

Sunday 20 November 2011

Normal Service has been Resumed

After our trip to the Warley Model Railway Exhibition we went to Birmingham New Street and caught a Cross Country Service to York. I always enjoy travelling on Cross Country services despite their inability to make a drinkable cup of tea, but when we joined the train I was shocked by the state of the first class coach. I have never seen such mess, there were dirty cups, food wrappings and crumpled newspaper everywhere. The were not many people in first class, but it was impossible for us to find a seat with a clean table. Robbie put down his bags and rucksack and morphed into a tornado as he whisked through the carriage cleaning each table, and carrying all the rubbish to the bin in the vestibule. Before long first class was restored to order and Robbie took his seat. The lady in the seat behind was most impressed and asked why he did it. He told her that he was proud of working for Cross Country and he hoped that any member of staff would pitch in to help if they saw a mess. He didn't tell her that the train manager had watched him open mouthed as he cleaned the carriage, he didn't even say thank you.


I enjoyed the journey, but I struggled to stay awake the early start and the busy morning at Warley were catching up on me. I tried to read my new book about the railways around Newquay but my eyes kept closing and I couldn't concentrate. I decided to look out of the window instead, even a brief stop at Sheffield station brings back many happy memories of my time there. It was a very long time ago but I loved living there. 


As we moved on towards Doncaster the 'trolley dolly' put in an appearance. The first people that she came to asked her for a tea and a coffee and she rudely told them that she was not doing complementary drinks she was only doing the retail trolley. She spoke to them as if they were naughty children. When she got to the couple sitting behind us they asked for a tea and a coffee, again she said that she wasn't doing complementary drinks. The man said that they were so desperate for a drink that they didn't mind paying, but she pushed the trolley away without further comment. In due course she came back and provided complementary drinks for those that wanted them, but at best her attitude was graceless and she made the people who wanted a drink so badly wait until last. Maybe she'd had a bad day, but it left me feeling disappointed because most Cross Country staff are not like that, they are very good and she had let them down. 


Photo by David McCormick
I enjoyed spending time at York station, we went to have a coffee and watch the world go by at the old signal box. Or to be more exact we watched the trains go by, Robbie was so busy jotting down information that he almost forgot to drink his coffee! Our journey back couldn't have been more different, the train manager was very good at his job and the Retail Service Manager was exceptional.
By the time we got back to Northampton I just wanted to curl up and go to sleep, but we'd had a lovely day.

An Early Start.

The insistent bleeping of the alarm clock roused me from sleep, but 'Sleeping Beauty' slumbered on oblivious of the cacophony of sound that filled the room as all three alarm clocks demanded attention. I shook him and yelled at him to turn it off, he said "yes dear" and carried on snoring! Clearly it was going to be one of those days. Trying to get Robbie out of bed is like trying to raise the dead - even when (as today) it is something he wants to do.


It took a minor miracle but at 7.55am we pulled out of Northampton on the London Midland service to Birmingham. It was a double set 'blue' train so Robbie had nothing to moan about (for a while at least!). As soon as we arrived at Northampton it was clear that this was no ordinary Saturday morning. The 'socks and sandals brigade' had donned their winter uniform and turned out en masse for the annual gathering of the weird, the worrying and the downright certifiable - otherwise known as the Warley Model Railway Exhibition. 


We left the train at Birmingham International and when we entered the National Exhibition Centre we were herded towards the exhibition hall. We waited for the exhibition to open in a tightly packed and ever growing crowd. I felt very small and outnumbered lost in the crush of men with backpacks who all had the same thing on their minds - trains! The crowd surged forward and I was carried along with it, down the stairs round the corner and in to the exhibition. Robbie was like a kid in a toy shop, he didn't know what to do first, but in true Robbie style he insisted that we had to stick to the same route that we take every year! 


There was lots to look at and Robbie's wish list grew by the minute. I wanted to look at things too but there were some very rude and hostile men around. Several times I was deliberately shoved out of the way and on many occasions men pushed in front of me as I was looking at stalls. Even Robbie noticed the hostile looks I got, as if they thought I had no right to be there. I got sick of dodging rucksacks. Being short is always a bit of a hazard in a crowded situation, but today was worse than usual. They are not going to get rid of that easily, my money is just as good as theirs and when necessary I have sharp elbows (at just the right height) so watch out!


Before long Robbie was walking around with a 'Roy Cropper' shopping bag as well as his rucksack. We bought some lovely books, one for me and four for him, as well as a stash of magazines a couple of little shunt engines and two very nice Hornby circus trucks. As I looked around I noticed that most of the other men were now armed with shopping bags as well as their rucksacks. It was rather like a Roy Cropper convention, or perhaps Where's Wally in reverse - If you looked hard enough you might be able to spot someone 'normal'. People watching is always fun, but at Warley it takes on a whole new dimension!


I am not sure how long we stayed at the exhibition, probably not much more than an hour but we managed to see everything and by the time we left we were absolutely exhausted. I enjoyed it, but I don't think it was as big or quite as good as last year. My favourites were the book stalls and the Stall selling Ivor the Engine books and mugs - I love Ivor the Engine! There was one other highlight, the ladies toilets, they were clean, practical and there were no queues, in fact they were almost deserted. If only it was always like this! 


Robbie and I left the exhibition exhausted but content and keen to take a closer look at our purchases. It was still early so we caught a train to Birmingham with the intention of having a day on the railways - but that is a story for tomorrow, I'm tired now. 

Saturday 19 November 2011

Better to live on the roof than share the house with a nagging wife. (GNB: Prov 21.9)

Robbie has done some daft things in his time (and been forgiven for most of them!) but this week he took a step too far. I know he is a slow learner but if he ever does that again he will need police protection! Sometime I long for the old days when he used to take his pager to bed with him. It woke me up countless times during the night and sometimes Robbie would wake me up to tell me about the state of the railways, but it wasn't as dangerous as his blackberry. He has two (one for each hand) one work one and one personal one, they put ideas into his head and lead him astray. Earlier this week he 'confessed' (under duress) that he had used his Blackberry to record me talking in my sleep. He thought it was hilarious. When I found out about it I made him play it back to me, most of it was him talking rather than me - nothing new there! I did mention a train and an elephant, but I wasn't rambling, I was just remembering our recent rather amazing trip on the Severn Valley Railway. I did see an elephant and a couple of rhinos when we went past West Midlands Safari Park. He has received stern warnings and if he knows what is good for him he will not record me again.


So why the quotation from the Bible, partly because it is one of my favourites and also because it gave me an excuse to include a Snoopy picture. The other day Robbie reminded me how much he likes Snoopy and it made me Realise how much Robbie has in common with Linus! The main reason for the quotation is because it is the 400th anniversary of the King James Bible. People who know me well will know tat it is not my favourite version of the Bible despite the beautiful use of language. I prefer the more accessible and down to earth language of the Good News translation, but I recognise the importance of the King James Bible. It made the Bible accessible to ordinary people in English but it is also an important literary work in its own right and it has influenced the way that English is spoken.


"And the earth was without form, and void; and darkness was upon the face of the deep. And the Spirit of God moved upon the face of the waters. And God said, Let there be light: and there was light..." 
Genesis ch1 v1-3

Tuesday 15 November 2011

Down the Stairs with a Bump

Why does the weekend go so quickly when the week seems to drag on forever? Robbie and I planned to go shopping in Birmingham on Saturday but when it came to it neither of us had the strength to tackle Birmingham on a Saturday. Our week days are long and challenging and at the weekend it is nice to take things slowly and relax. 


We had a nice lazy day we enjoyed a meal together and got some shopping done, but we didn't tackle any Christmas shopping. We really need to get organised because time is marching on. I really enjoy having young nephews to buy for, but as our own children have got older it is harder and more expensive to buy for them. Even my (almost) 11 year old niece seems frighteningly grown up all of a sudden - I must be getting old!


On Sunday evening I decided that in the coming week I would get organised, I made lists and planned to start my Christmas shopping on Monday. That was before my week started with a bump. Robbie was getting ready to leave the house and I came down the stairs dressed and ready to go, but somehow my foot slipped and the next thing I knew I was at the bottom of the stairs in a crumpled heap. There was nothing broken (not even the mug that I was carrying) but everything hurt and now I have bruises in places that I didn't know I had and it felt as if I was walking like Spotty Dog from the Woodentops! So the Christmas shopping is on hold for a day or two because it is hard enough just to deal with the essentials at the moment.

Sunday 13 November 2011

The End of a Nightmare

On Thursday a letter arrived from CSA. It is hard to explain the feeling of terror when one of those brown envelopes drops through the door. Robbie always makes his payments on time and in full but we still dread those brown envelopes fearing what they are going to come up with this time. Thursdays envelope could potentially bring an end to our battle to prove that he did not owe the huge amount of arrears (from 15 years ago when he was still with his ex) that they had been demanding, but it could have been a notification that they would deduct the alleged debt from his salary leaving us facing serious financial hardship. It takes a bit of courage to open a CSA letter but it is like removing a sticking plaster, it is more painful if it is done slowly than if you rip it of quickly. I opened the envelope and read the very long and annoying letter it contained, it was good news, they had accepted our evidence at long last, there it was in black and white, Robbie doesn't owe them £17,000 as they originally stated, they owe him £30!! The relief was immense, but now that relief has given way to anger that we have endured months of worry and fear all because his ex committed benefit fraud and CSA didn't do their job properly at the time. I hope very much that she will have to answer for her dishonesty in court!

Wednesday 9 November 2011

The Differences Between Men and Women

I met a really nice man a couple of weeks ago. We had an interesting chat about all sorts of things including trains. He observed that men tend to obsess about things and women tend to obsess about people. That made a lot of sense to me because Robbie notices things such as minor changes if product packaging, bus numbers, car numbers, the design of post poxes and lamp posts, that sort of thing. I hardly ever notice those things, but I notice if someone is wearing odd socks, looks sad, or seems worried, things that Robbie  would probably not notice. 


Yesterday I received further confirmation that men and women have a different way of looking at things. My son announced to me that his English homework had been to consider gender stereotypes and to analyse the way that Robbie and I use language, then to present his observations to the class. Apparently is caused his teacher considerable amusement when he told the class that I'd told him that men almost always consider their cars (and trains) to be female, but I know for sure that my car is male because it is unreliable and expensive to maintain! He went on to tell the class that our use of language indicated that Robbie is submissive and I am dominant because I use imperatives and Robbie uses tactics such as hedging, fillers and hesitation in response. I have to admit that it feels a bit creepy to think that our use of language gives away so much about us (assuming his observations are accurate) we will have to be more cautious in future!

Friday 4 November 2011

Turning Heads

I had a strange experience yesterday, I went to parents evening with my son. He has recently moved from a boy's school to a girls school for his A levels. It was his choice to make the move and his decision was based on the girl's school being able to offer him the subjects he wanted and a better all round experience. He is one of just half a dozen boys in his year, there are about a dozen in the whole school so the move must have been a bit of a culture shock. 


Last night my son and I went to a consultation meeting at school. I am used to the school, my daughters went there, so turning up for parents evening was a fairly ordinary experience - or so I thought. I wasn't prepared for the new experience of going to parents evening with my son. As we walked in there were a number of younger girls there to get people to sign in and to give out various bits of paperwork. It felt like watching meerkats, every head turned in the same direction as he walked past and there was a chorus of girls calling his name and trying to attract his attention. As we left much the same thing happened again and my son gave a small hand gesture of acknowledgement as he walked passed them. He seems to be very happy at his new school, but I just hope it isn't making him big headed!  

What Did You Say?

Having a family member with Asperger Syndrome has taught me many things. One of the most important is to be very clear when giving information or instructions because there is a good chance that the aspie person will take my words literally or focus on just one part of what I said and miss the deeper meaning. Of course I sometimes get it wrong and it leads to some surprising misunderstandings like the time not so long ago when my son was asked to put the bin bag outside. I intended him to take the bin bag from the kitchen and put it in the wheelie bin outside but I didn't say that, so when I went out to the car I found the bin bag sitting in splendid isolation in the front garden. Luckily I found it before the local cats got their claws into it.


Last night I was chatting to Robbie about one of our children and I said "he seems to have taken umbrage because I told him off ......" The look on Robbie's face told me that he was no longer listening to me. After a few moments he repeated the word 'umbrage' several times as if he was exploring the shape and sound of the word. Then he looked up with a satisfied expression and asked if the word had something to do with a humpback bridge. I told him that it was just a phrase that meant the person was displeased because they felt slighted in some way. I had to look up the exact meaning of umbrage in order to tell him that the word had a Latin root and it meant shade, shadow or darkness. The word only survives in English now as the phrase to 'take umbrage'. Robbie told me to stop, he said that I had given him far too much information (now he knows what I have to put up with!) and anyway he preferred his own definition of a humpbacked bridge. No wonder it is so hard to understand him sometimes! 

Tuesday 1 November 2011

The Things You See When Travelling By Train

Saturday proved to be a very special day. It involved an early start for a Saturday morning and I have to confess to feeling a bit nervous as we boarded the train because we were attending the birthday 'event' of a special friend but I did not know any of the other guests (except Robbie). The journey to Tamworth seemed endless, mainly because there was a woman opposite us who loved the sound of her own voice. I saw her travelling companion nod a couple of times, but other than that it was a monologue and she hardly paused for breath. The whole carriage was forced to listen to her talking about the problems she is having with her computer, the difficulty of getting used to a new phone and the problems she had encountered when buying a car. I was getting increasingly agitated, she was the sort of person who gives women a bad name, she could have solved all those problems herself if she had shut up and given herself time to think!


I was thankful to arrive at Tamworth and leave the woman on the train to bore her fellow passengers all the way to Crewe. A quick visit to the Ladies did nothing to lift my mood, it was grim. It didn't look especially old but it was dirty and smelly. I was able to lock the door but as there was no door handle the only way to get out was to hook my finger through a hole in the door (where a previous lock had been fitted) and pull the door open. There was no hot water and it was clear that there had been nothing but cold water for some time because the knob had been removed from the water heater. I put my now cold wet hands under the dryer to find that it made an interesting noise but it didn't work so I gave up and left with my hands still wet. Is this really what we should expect from a modern railway?


At that point we left the real world behind for the day and began a rather special adventure. The birthday boy was waiting to meet us outside the station and we boarded a lovely old Midland Red bus and headed for the top floor. The conductor who looked a bit like Pte Godfrey from Dad's Army came upstairs and issued us with a ticket (in old money of course) and the journey back in time began. The tickets were narrow strips of paper similar to those used by United Counties buses in my childhood, the Northampton Transport buses that I remember more clearly issued small square tickets of different colours depending on the fare paid.


I had not travelled on top of a double decker bus since, well lets just say for more years than I care to admit. I had forgotten how much fun it was and how much you could see. The seats were surprisingly comfortable and practical, better than those on the only modern bus I have travelled on recently. There was one concession to the modern world that I was very grateful for - the 'no smoking' rule. In my childhood the top of a bus was a fog of cigarette smoke, how times have changed.


The bus took us to Birmingham to pick up more guests and then on to Kidderminster. I was really surprised, I am not really a 'bus person' and I hadn't expected to like it, but I loved every minute of it. We pulled up outside the station and I couldn't wait for the next part of our adventure. We had plenty of time to explore the station but with two bookshops I could have spent the entire day there! A visit to the toilets proved that it is possible to provide clean, pleasant, functional facilities - so why do so many stations struggle to meet even the most basic standards?


We had a lovely cup of tea (or in Robbie's case, coffee) at the cafe next to the museum and bookshop. I couldn't drink it fast enough, I couldn't wait to look at  everything. I loved the bookshop, I bought a book about old stations in Northamptonshire and the Soke of Peterborough and a book about Ivor the Engine - I love Ivor the Engine and I want to share Ivor stories with my nephew Oliver. I wish they would do a dvd with all the Ivor the Engine episodes on it, it is the irreplaceable voice of Oliver Postgate that makes Ivor extra special.


Robbie made most of his purchases at the other book stall, a couple of 'train spotter' type stock books and a pile of lovely train photos. When he found the photos he got so excited that he almost jumped up and down with pleasure. Before long it was time for us all to meet up ready to catch our charter train. The birthday boy was running around like a demented sheepdog looking for two stragglers while most of us stood around chatting. My 'weird magnet' was working well, a little man (he was considerably shorter than me) entered the station area from the platform and marched straight up to me, shook my hand and launched in to a long explanation of why steam trains are better than diesels. I didn't tell him how much I like diesels or the conversation would have lasted all day. Suddenly he stopped talking about trains, informed me that he had important things to do and marched off in the direction of the refreshment room. I think Robbie was quite shocked.





When we arrived at Bridgnorth we had time to go and explore. Robbie and some of the others went off to experience the funicular railway. I had to choose between the bookshop and Robbie and the bookshop won hands down! I now have a wish list of books that I want. After exploring the station I got back to the train in time to have a chat with one of the other guests, then the others came back and it was time to head back to Kidderminster. We had profiteroles on the way back, they were lovely, much lighter than usual and we finished off with a nice cup of tea. I know that this was an extra special trip, but if on-board catering can be this good it seems a shame that Cross Country can't even master the art of making a drinkable cup of tea!


All too soon we were back at Kidderminster and boarding the bus back to Birmingham. For me the best part of the day was the people, it may sound odd to say that I felt totally at ease when I was with a bunch of people that I didn't know but that is exactly how it felt. It really was a lovely day and I will remember it for a very long time. 

Sunday 30 October 2011

Decisions, Decisions

We had a rather unusual Friday evening. We were going out to a rather special event on Saturday and the only instruction was to wear something that we would feel comfortable in. To me comfortable means something that will not dig in when I sit down and something that makes me feel reasonably confident (or at least something that doesn't make me look like the back of a bus) I had thought about it during the week and by Friday evening I knew exactly what I wanted to wear, Robbie on the other hand hadn't  given it any thought until Friday evening. Asked my advice and I suggested jeans and his red T-shirt, but he rejected that idea on the grounds that it was not smart enough, then he vanished.


He reappeared after a few minutes wearing only his pants (scary) and clutching a selection of clothes. He appeared in front of me wearing a tucked in coloured check shirt and his smart casual charcoal trousers. The trousers are very nice and the shirt is OK but together they made him look 'special' with just a touch of the Simon Cowell waistband going on. I gave him a very firm no, but being Robbie he kept asking why so we had to have an in depth discussion about it. Robbie tried several more outfits, and that annoying word 'why' popped up far too often. In the end I felt as if I was trapped in an endless episode of Mr Benn, there was far too much dressing up going on. I wonder how Mr Benn's wife felt about all that dressing up, it was very dubious. We ended up more or less where we started, Robbie decided to wear his jeans with a nice shirt - tucked out.  The whole experience made me recall a cartoon that I saw recently, men and women really do see things differently when they look in the mirror!

Thursday 27 October 2011

Be Sure Your Sins Will Find You Out!

I have written several times about the dark cloud of worry that has been hanging over us since July when completely out of the blue Robbie received a £17,000 bill for child  support for a period almost 15 years ago when he was living with his ex partner and their children! To say that the last few months have been a living hell would be an understatement. Trying to get CSA to listen or respond was an impossibility and even with the help of our MP it has been an uphill struggle dealing with CSA. They seem to take the word of the woman without question while choosing to ignore all our evidence to show that he was living with his ex at that time.


Finally about a week ago we got a letter conceding that he did not owe £17,000 but insisting that he owed around £2000 because they still insist that he was not living with his ex for one of the years in question. This is based only on her word, the have chosen to ignore evidence from the bank that they had a joint bank account, evidence of his address from his employers at the time, tax documents, monthly bills etc. It seemed as if there was very little that we could do to provide further proof but we were determined not to give up. Robbie has always loved and supported his children and the suggestion that he had failed to support his family was as painful as the prospect of having to pay a large sum of money to the government that he didn't owe and could not afford.


Thankfully there was another piece of evidence and we hope very much that it will be accepted as conclusive evidence that he was with his ex for the whole period in question. Thanks to a very conscientious employee at Virgin Trains who kept meticulous records and also thanks to colleagues at Cross Country who went the extra mile and searched back through the files we feel a little more confident. We now have copies of a statutory declaration that was sworn in front of a solicitor and signed by the ex stating that she and Robbie had lived at the same address as a meaningful couple and that Robbie had supported his children for the whole period now in dispute. Surely that will be enough! 


Please keep your fingers crossed for us. I am not usually a vindictive person but I really hope that justice prevails and that she doesn't get away with abusing and defrauding the system! 

Tuesday 25 October 2011

Living in the Past

It is half term, it seems as if they only went back to school a couple of weeks ago, but I have my son's company for the week. He (the one who likes to remain nameless) graciously agreed to come to the supermarket with me in return for a lift into town afterwards. According to him we had no food in the house and he was starving, but in reality the fridge, freezer and cupboards were well stocked; he just had a yearning for junk food and cereal. Typical!


As we drove out of the supermarket I wondered aloud if the woman at the traffic lights seriously thought that off white, skin tight almost see through leggings with a short top was a good look. I answered myself with the thought that someone should buy her a mirror for Christmas!  The nameless one in the passenger seat laughed out loud, he said "Mum, you make me laugh you are always living in the past" He went on to tell me that I didn't understand fashion, that may be true but I am fairly sure the world is not ready for sights like that!


In a way he is right, I don't live in the past but I carry it with me. It only takes a word or a look, a sound or a smell to transport me back to the people and places of my past. Sometimes a smile or a guilty look from my son reminds me so much of his dad. The smell from the brewery takes me back to my earliest years when I used to go with my aunt to deliver the church magazine in the streets that are now long gone. The sight of magnolia blossom brings back memories of my college rooms with the beautiful magnolia tree near my window. 


I came across this photo recently, I remember going to the Odeon to see the Aristocats, it was a birthday treat for one of my best friends. Looking at the Ladybird shop next door reminded me how much I disliked shopping for clothes with my mum when I was little. She has always loved fashion, but even when I was tiny I detested frills and fuss. It was a battle of wills, my mum got me to try on countless outfits and I objected to every single one. Sometimes I got my own way, but more often my mum dressed me in the clothes she liked. Among the horrors that still haunt me was the seriously unflattering ruched swimming costume and a bright red wet look raincoat that made terrible noises every time I moved. The worst by far were the orange hot pants, unlike my mum I have never been a hot pants type of person! So maybe my son is right I don't understand fashion, but I do understand that there are some sights that the world will never be ready for!!

Monday 24 October 2011

Reaching out to the Past

It's official - I am obsessed! This morning I bought a 1980 Model Railway Constructor magazine that I have wanted for ages. This is not something I have bought just to please Robbie, I haven't even told him about it because he would probably tell me to buy a magazine about Deltics instead!



I have been researching my family tree for a number of years and as many of my ancestors lived in and around Northampton I have become fascinated by old photos and old maps of the town. If only we could have street view on old maps, there so many places that I would like to see as they were when my grandparents and great grandparents knew the town. I would like to see where they lived, where they worked and the places that mattered in their lives. Most of all I would like to see the three railway stations in the town as they were then.


We think the world has progressed but in terms of public transport my grandmother's horizons were much wider than my own. She could travel to many towns and villages within the county by train and if she wanted to travel further, the train would take her; and for more local journeys she could rely on the tram. 


The first of our railway stations to close was the most convenient and most beautiful of the three. It was less than a five minute walk from St John's station to the market square. Clearly customer convenience was not a high priority even then - some things never change! Saint John's Station had opened in 1872, it was the northern terminus of the Midland Railway's Bedford to Northampton line. The station was built above street level on red brick arches which carried the line across the road and out of the town on the 21 mile journey to Bedford via Piddington (which in reality was much closer to Horton), Olney and Turvey. It was closed in July 1939 as a cost cutting measure and the services were re-routed to the much less convenient Castle Station.


Now it would take Sherlock Holmes to find any clue that a station ever stood on that spot, the station seems to have been erased from local memory and there are so few photos that you could almost suspect a cover up. So my reason for buying the old magazine was that it contains plans of St Johns and with the help of maps and old photos I can perhaps imagine the station in it's glory days.