Clothes make the man. Naked people have little or no influence on society - Mark Twain

My mum is an amazing woman. She loves clothes and at 80 she likes nothing better than a shopping trip with her granddaughters. When it comes to clothes shopping she loves fashion and she shops enthusiastically, she has plenty of stamina and she will happily shop all day. She likes bright cheerful colours, high shoes and matching accessories. She gave up on my fashion sense years ago; she respects my right to wear more sober styles and very little make up but just occasionally she will tell me "you can wear that when you are dead!" 

My mum finds Robbie's approach to fashion rather surprising, but she supports his right to express his individuality and to wear bright colours - but perhaps not all at once! They often chat about clothes and shoes and Robbie likes nothing better than flicking through her collection of catalogues to 'window shop'. Earlier this week he was flicking through her cotton traders catalogue and showing me the many things that he would like when suddenly he emitted a groan of delight. He said "oh yes, they would look great with some bright contrasting boots, I really want them" He thrust the catalogue in front of me to reveal that 'they' were a pair of bright red trousers. I gave him a steady stare trying to work out if he was serious - he was! He looked to my mum for support but she tactfully said there may not be many opportunities to wear red trousers. I told him that it would be a mistake, he would look like Santa on his day off - or a Smurf!! I just hope that he will see sense.

Flushed with Pride

I understand Robbie fairly well (he doesn't get away with much!) but just occasionally he does something so random that he manages to leave me lost for words. Yesterday he came downstairs proudly carrying my birthday present, it was beautifully wrapped in colourful paper. He was very keen for me to open it and he seemed convinced that he had chosen exactly the right present for me. I opened it to find a boxed toilet roll! What exactly are you supposed to say when presented with a boxed toilet roll? I opened the box hoping that the roll itself would bring me inspiration. The individual sheets had a message printed on them 'Hygiene and cleanliness are essential to robust good health and longevity'. Could it be a subtle way of pointing out that I am getting old? I thought not because Robbie doesn't 'do' subtle, but I spent the rest of the day wondering exactly what it said about our relationship!!   

Age is a high price to pay for maturity.

I have been asked that question a number of times in the last few weeks. My birthday was coming up and for some obscure reason people seem to think that it is cause to celebrate. It is a really difficult question to answer, because I really don't want anything. We have far too many 'things' already and there is nothing that I really need and I can't have the things I would really like.


More than anything I would like to be able to turn back time. Not to get rid of the wrinkles or because I am worried about my grey hairs, I don't care that much about either of those things. After all living with Robbie is bound to cause a few grey hairs - OK, I admit to more than a few grey hairs! I would like to turn back time because there are people who aren't here that should be and you can't help wishing that things could be different. Anyway things change, and I have to hang on to the fact that there are important people in my life now, such as my lovely nephews and niece who would be there if I turned back time. I guess the moral is that you have to live in the present and enjoy the people and things in your life now, then at least you carry special memories into the future with you.

I think my best ever birthday present was probably my first pony Geme. He had such a character and there was a very special bond between us for the rest of his life. The bond that develops between a young rider and her pony is very special. It is not the relationship with a dog or other pet because it involves a different level of trust and understanding. It is difficult to explain the closeness between horse and rider, it is not just an emotional bond, it is a physical communication.The rider understands and responds to every movement of the horse and the horse recognises and reacts to the movements and signals of the rider. The partnership depends on a large degree of trust and respect.


The joy of riding and the feeling of being at one with the pony brings a lot of pleasure, the thrill of cantering across a field and the gentler enjoyment of ambling along a lane in tune with the world around you. Horse riding gives you a lot of thinking time, it enables people to process thoughts and mull over problems, riding is good for your soul as well as for your mind and body.


I think my best birthday present as an adult was a video that I was given on my 41st birthday. My husband had borrowed some old cine film from my mum and had it transferred to video. I'd never seen the footage before and when I watched it I was confronted with my younger self laughing, playing and enjoying life. I was a spectator at my own first birthday party and I saw my grandmothers and my dad alive and well doing all the ordinary things that I only half remembered. Watching the video was a very emotional experience, but it was so precious, it was like being given back a little bit of my past. 

A room without books is like a body without a soul - Cicero

I had such a good time on Saturday. For me it was a Robbie free day because he was out playing trains - nothing new there! A couple of months ago my friend took me to visit the most amazing place, it is called Astley Book Farm and it is the largest second hand book shop in the Midlands. I loved it and I promised myself that I would go back when I had plenty of time to brose. I told my daughter Emily about it and she wanted to go as well, so we planned our trip for Saturday. To say that Emily shares my love of books would be an understatement, I have never seen anyone so excited about visiting a bookshop! 


It was a nice morning and we had a nice drive to the book farm, we got there fairly early so that we had plenty of time to explore every section of the shop. It is an amazing place, just when you think you have got to the end of the shop you find a doorway or turning opening on to another section. Emily soon found the English language section and she was in her element, crouched on the floor looking at every book that took her fancy. I wandered off and soon I had found two or three books that would make perfect Christmas presents. I was having a great time and I felt virtuous too, it is only September and I have started my Christmas shopping! 

Emily was still sitting on the floor reading text books when I wandered past ten minutes later. She excitedly offered me a book, it was a dictionary of vulgarity in 
old English, that girl is passionate about language. I left her surrounded by a pile of books and headed up to the children's section in the hayloft. Who needs anti wrinkle cream when you can visit a place like this. Soon I was sitting on the floor rediscovering treasures from my childhood including Sam Pig, My Naughty Little Sister and many more. Emily came up to join me and we rekindled memories from her childhood too. 


Considerably later I made my way down from the hayloft and headed for the transport section clutching the pile of books that I intended to buy. There was a whole section on railway books so I happily whiled away another half an hour looking at some amazing books. I selected a book about the railway companies pre nationalisation, it is a lovely book and it was very reasonably priced.


By then my friend had arrived so we paid for our books and put them in the car before going to the coffee shop for a cup of tea and a natter. Afterwards we had a last look around and we bought a couple more things before going back to my friend's house for a while. I really enjoyed the whole day, it is nice to spend some quality time with my daughter, and I always enjoy spending time with my friend. The added enjoyment of the bookshop turned it into a perfect day. I must take time to do more things like this.

If At First You Don't Succeed - Keep Nagging!

Robbie has a really annoying habit of asking my advice, nodding furiously when I offer my opinion and then doing as he likes. I don't (usually) expect him to do what I tell him, he would get a very direct answer if he tried to tell me what to do; but why ask me if he is going to do as he likes anyway? 


Sometimes I rely on ancient wisdom and I keep on offering the same advice. According to Ovid "Dripping water hollows out stone, not through force but through persistence." In the end it is his life and he has to live with his choices, so I don't push too hard, I just hope that he will 'wise up' eventually. I could't push him anyway, he is a stubborn little devil, he would refuse to budge and the effort would kill me.

This week has been a bit of a high point for me because Robbie has finally decided to act on a piece of advice that I have been giving him for quite a few years. I am not sure why now is the right time, perhaps he is just a slow learner or more likely it was a difficult thing to do, but I am pleased that he has finally decided to deal with that particular issue.

According to my mum, if you want a man to do something you need to sow the seed and nurture it so that it becomes his decision. It has taken five or six years for this particular seed to germinate but I hope Robbie will think that 'he' has made a very good decision.

We all live under the same sky, but we don't all have the same horizon.

I rarely mention my work when I write the blog, but today I am going to break my own rules because this trivial incident made someone feel so good and all it took was a little effort. A lady came up to me to ask a question, I could see that she had difficulty in walking and when she asked her question her speech was hard to understand. I guessed that she may have cerebral palsy. I latched on to the couple of words that I understood and repeated them asking if that is what she was looking for. I was rewarded with a huge smile as she realised that I'd understood her without making her repeat the question. I told her that I would show her what she was looking for and I walked with her at her pace to the correct place. Her friend came up to us and the lady almost danced with excitement as she told her that I had understood the first time she spoke.   It was such a small thing and it cost me nothing, but it made a big difference to her - and it made me feel pretty good too.


In my family there are several people with disabilities. I don't think it really gives me any special insight, but the one thing that they all have in common is that they want to be able to do the things that other people do and they want to focus on their ability rather than being defined by their disability. I don't really understand why other people seem to find that so difficult to understand that. My son has a disability (autistic spectrum disorder) which would not be obvious to someone who only met him briefly. Ordinary things like shopping have brought extra challenges for him - and me! There have been a few occasions when people who should have known better have treated him very badly and made things more difficult for him. Usually this could have been avoided completely if people were a little more accepting of difference and less critical of behaviour that they do not understand. My son is amazing and I am really proud of the way he copes with life, but it has taken him a long time to admit to his disability and to accept help when he needs it.


Robbie also has a largely hidden disability, he has spina bifida and it causes more or less constant pain and difficulty in walking. He wants to be seen as just a normal person like everyone else, but he has had to admit that sometimes he needs extra help with certain things. OK, I know that Robbie is a little more unique than most, and the word normal really doesn't suit him, but you know what I mean. Little adjustments like having additional leg room makes travelling much less painful for him. I don't need to list everything, but a lot of small adjustments add up to a big difference to someone's ability to cope with a disability. So when you see a young and apparently able bodied person sitting in a seat offering extra leg room, or using other facilities provided for people with disabilities don't be too quick to judge, their disability may not be obvious. 



We awaken in others the same attitude of mind that we hold towards them.

A Boy Called Sarah?

Robbie has been promising (or threatening) for weeks that he would take me on a charter trip so that I could experience the ‘wonder’ of Sarah Siddons, the oldest electric locomotive still in traffic. Today was ‘the day’ but when I woke up at some ungodly hour, I told Robbie that I would rather stay in bed. He was not a happy chap, he stomped off and came back bearing a cup of tea to find me still half asleep. When bribery didn’t work, he stamped his foot like Rumpelstiltskin. I am not sure if it was a war dance or a rain dance but it got my attention. Somewhat reluctantly I left my lovely warm duvet and prepared to face rush hour on the railway.

We had no problem finding a parking space at Northampton and after a quick visit to what turned out to be by far the best station toilets all day, we were on our way, heading towards Milton Keynes. We changed there for a Southern service to Harrow and Whealdstone, it was an OK sort of journey except for the catastrophe when I visited the toilet. It was compact in the extreme, I put my hands under the hand wash thingy and it dispensed a large dollop of soap onto my hands, then nothing at all, I tried everything but there was no water! I tried to wipe the soap off my hands with toilet paper, but the paper just stuck to my hands. I returned to my seat leaving a trail of soapy finger marks and attempted to clean my hand with hand sanitizer and wet wipes, but the soap made the wet wipes lather and it got worse rather than better. By the time I was able to wash my hands in the shopping centre at Harrow, there were stinging and sore.

When we reached Harrow and Whealdstone we had to get a bus to Harrow on the Hill. We found a bus with a driver who did not speak English, judging by the price he charged us he must have thought we wanted to buy the bus rather than travel the short distance to Harrow on the Hill! I expected Harrow to be rather posh but the places we saw looked a bit grim and ‘unloved’.

We got to Harrow on the Hill Station to find that the ‘the socks and sandals brigade’ were out in force and wearing their ‘winter uniform’ – I have never seen such a display of dodgy footwear in my life! In fact when I saw such a large gathering of the the gathering of the ‘weird and wonderful’ I had an almost irresistible urge to run . They ranged from the quietly confused through various categories of weirdness to the downright odd. Robbie had to hold on to me to stop me making a dash for freedom. Sarah Siddons was late, but eventually it arrived – I refuse to call a loco that turns up late and breaks down a lot ‘she’ when it is so obviously male!

We found some seats in a compartment and soon we were joined by a chap with a big simile and thankfully few words who liked class 37s. I could have cope with him but my ‘weird magnet’ was working overtime and two seriously strange bods from the South West came to sit next to me. They talked incessantly about quail maps and sections of track that they’d ‘had’. They made it sound like notches on their bedposts! It did not surprise me that they both turned out to be single! I did what any sane person does in such circumstances; I closed my eyes and pretended to be asleep.

At Amersham I was entrusted with everyone’s bags, it was like lemming year! There was a mass exodus of men and cameras all hoping to get the perfect shot of Sarah Siddons. As I gazed out of the window at crowds of men milling around carrying cameras with formidable lenses, I couldn’t help wondering if train spotters like trombone players are over compensating for their deficiencies in other areas. After two trips from Harrow on the Hill to Amersham and back I was allowed to escape to the relative sanity of a normal service to Aylesbury. I hadn’t really enjoyed the experience, I was bored and trapped and I couldn’t see what all the fuss was about. Robbie said that perhaps I just don’t like electric locos, perhaps not, to me it just felt unreal and uninteresting, like a theme park ride with added weirdness. I think I prefer proper rail tours with interesting people and (preferably) diesels.

Aylesbury offered the worst station toilets of the day, they seemed fairly new but they were so badly designed that you had to straddle the toilet in order to shut the cubicle door. The tap that claimed to be the cold tap produced such a powerful burst of uncomfortably hot water that it soaked my top! Why is it so had to provide clean adequate toilet facilities? It may not sound important but passengers remember when companies/stations can’t even get the basics right.

We came back via Marylebone on a Chiltern service. That proved to be the greatest disappointment of the day. It was rubbish, the toilets were in a disgraceful state, no toilet paper, filthy seat, overflowing bin, floor flooded and a broken dryer. Also there was no air con and it was so uncomfortable when we were delayed by about an hour that my asthma played up. There was no wifi, some of the sockets were not working, there was a distinct lack of useful announcements, people had to get refunds for their tea and coffee because the milk was off and the train manager failed to apologise for the delay. The seats were very badly designed, impossible to get in and out of and very uncomfortable. I will steer clear of Chiltern from now on.

The best bit of my whole day was the Virgin Pendolino that we caught on the way home, it was absolutely perfect. We had to get the London Midland service from Rugby, but for once London Midland excelled themselves, it was one of the more comfortable ‘blue’ trains, the toilets were working and it was a pleasant trip back to Northampton.

On The Buses

George Row, Northampton

It's Heritage Weekend, many buildings and places of interest in Northampton were open to the public, but the highlight for Robbie was the old buses. They were taking people on tours around the town via an assortment of interesting places. Robbie didn't seem to mind that some of the buses had never been used in Northampton or even Northamptonshire, but it mattered to me. It was nice to see a couple of our old red buses, but it would have been lovely to have seen one or two of our old green (county) buses. 

This is the bus that Robbie travelled on today

This bus is rather like the one that I used to catch to get home from school it brings back a few memories. I often travelled by bus in those days but I have probably only been on a bus about twice in the last twenty years. I don't really have good or bad memories of buses, they just took you to where you wanted to be and if you were very lucky they were on time. 


As a very young child, I often travelled on the bus to my aunt's house and back. I liked that because our journey took us past Castle Station and my aunt usually let us sit on the top deck so I could look out of the window and see everything going on at the station. There was much more going on in those days, and the bus paused at the traffic lights I could look across towards the goods yard. So I guess for me buses were just a means of seeing the things that I wanted to see!

This is the bus that took me home from school

A Northampton bus conductor

The conductor used to have a little machine with different coloured (and different priced) tickets on rolls, so when you paid your fare he or she just pushed a lever and produced the correct ticket. Most conductors were reasonably cheerful, but when someone decided to modernise the world and change to one man buses the drivers seemed to be as miserable as sin. I disliked one man (or should I say person) operated buses and for me that was when bus travel took a turn for the worse and became something to avoid if at all possible.

Northampton bus tickets

I lived and worked in Sheffield for a while in 1983 and I liked their buses very much because the drivers were not miserable and payment was simple. They had a hopper thing to drop your coins in and the ticket that was produced had an imprint of the coins that you had put in. As far as I recall it was called a videmat ticket machine. I haven't seen that system anywhere else but there again I don't go out of my way to travel by bus. 

So for those like Robbie who are interested in anything with wheels, here are some pictures of the other buses that were out and about in Northampton on Saturday. Robbie is so obsessed that he will be back 'on the buses' on Sunday

Life and death are balanced on the edge of a razor - Homer

Sometimes we are reminded in the most painful way that we are just observers in the drama of other people's lives. On Wednesday evening Robbie was travelling home (by train of course), he left his first train and walked along the platform to wait for his connecting train as he usually does. He noticed what he thought was a train spotter standing on the ramp at the end of the platform rather too close to the track. He alerted station staff and walked towards the man, but while he was still some distance away he saw the man walk onto the track, position himself and then within a matter of seconds be hit by a train. Needless to say Robbie was very upset about it and upset for all those people who had to deal with what had happened.


Seeing something like that is not easily forgotten and not easily processed because it gives rise to a muddle of conflicting emotions. First there is shock and sorrow for a life lost and sadness for those left behind. Then there is anger that someone would make such a selfish choice by killing themselves in such a messy and public way, causing trauma and inconvenience to everyone involved. Anger too that someone would choose to end their life while others fight so hard to stay alive yet lose their battle. 


There are so many thoughts and so many questions, but perhaps the most pressing question is why would anyone feel that such a terrible death was their only option? Was it some terrible shock that had driven him to such desperate action, or perhaps he felt alone and afraid, unable to endure the troubles that life brings. Could it even have been desperation caused by the incorrect assessments and impossible demands of CSA. I know that Robbie felt very close to giving up when he recently received a totally incorrect demand for £17,000.  


Whatever the reason, I hope that this poor man has found peace and I hope that the train driver, station staff and all those who were touched by this tragedy will not suffer lasting effects because of what they witnessed. I also hope that anyone contemplating such a drastic option will reach out to someone close to them and find the help that they so badly need.

Warning - Short, Angry Woman at Large

We have had a problem for some time with things being moved, usually out of reach! That little problem has been more or less resolved because as they say, 'where there's a will there is a way'. I have plenty of determination and I have found a way to reach even the highest shelves  Now it seems that things have started vanishing too and I am not amused. I don't think we are being plagued by a poltergeist, I suspect our 'phantom' is all too human!  


This morning I went to have a bath and the bath plug had 'vanished'. I could have had a shower but I am not so keen on showers and Robbie doesn't like the shower head to be adjusted, so by the time the water gets to my head it feels too heavy - yes really! I decided to have a wash and postpone my bath until I had the plug. That was when things took a turn for the worse, I reached into the little basket by the window where I keep my toothpaste and several other essential bits and bobs. I pulled out the tube that was in the position of my tooth paste and it had mysteriously become a tube of Ralgex! That was a very lucky escape!


Later in the morning I went out to have a bit of 'me time' and to buy a bath plug, it was nice I should do it more often - not the bath plug, the 'me time'. When I got to the shop that sells bath plugs the conspiracy against short people continued, the bath plug was on the highest hook on the rack. There was no one around to help so I selected a metal shelf bracket from a lower hook and used it to reach the item I wanted. Then once I had paid the huge sum of 99p I went home with my personal bath plug and enjoyed a long hot soak. 


Just one word of warning, the culprit should sleep with one eye open in future because I have the Ralgex and I may be tempted to use it ...................!!! 

Teenagers are people who express a burning desire to be different be dressing exactly alike.

The son who must remain nameless has been at home since finishing his GCSE's in early June and before that he had exam leave  so it feels as if he has been 'at leisure' for a very long time. He started sixth form at his new school on Tuesday so on Monday he and I had a shopping day to get an extra pair of shoes and some more trousers for school. It was really nice to spend some time together, usually I am just the taxi!


I am not a natural shopper, in fact I go to town so rarely that I find that a number of the shops have changed since I was last there. So I was not fully prepared for the joys of Topman and River Island. Why do they have to be upstairs? Clearly 'the nameless one' gets his love of clothes and clothes shops from his dad. I was fairly calm when he showed the carrot cut chinos that he wanted, they were in a colour that I am more used to seeing in the cat tray on a very bad day but I don't have to be seen out in them so I gave in without a fight.


Next we looked at 'boat shoes' apparently they are retro, they would certainly not have looked out of place in the old men's section at Marks and Spencer. His heart was set on a pair that were navy blue and brown and eventually he found a pair to fit. That was the easy bit, the price was a bit hard to take, but if that is what he chose to spend his shoe allowance on he will have to wait a while for the next pair.

He also needed what he described as a pair of short joggers for sport. Apparently he had seen a pair that were just right and he wanted me see them. After trailing around the entire store he finally found the desired garment and my composure became a distant memory. They were in a dirty off white colour in a loose almost baggy fitting with cuffs around the knee. I couldn't possibly let him be seen out in public in something like that, I have seen a similar garment in the past but it was worn by an elderly man at a care home who needed extra room for a nappy! The price was the deciding factor, this was one desire that he would not become reality. We went to a sports shop and found some (slightly) more normal sports shorts. We went into several other shops so that he could show me all the items on his wish list so by the time we drove home my feet were killing me. I have seen some sights in my life, but those joggers were certainly 'memorable' for all the wrong reasons! 

Google in Bed

On Sunday evening I was very tired by the time I went to bed. I was already asleep by the time Robbie came to bed, but as he doesn't do anything quietly I was soon wide awake again. I really don't know why he feels compelled to talk to me (and to require an answer) when I am asleep because he doesn't get a good reaction. He doesn't seem to understand that when I am asleep I really don't want to hear about the cat's digestive problems or even the state of the railways, I just want to sleep - is that so much to ask?


On this particular occasion he had woken me to inform me that he had left the toilet set in the correct position, surely he doesn't imagine that he will get 'brownie points' for doing what any sensible person would do anyway! Seat down and lid up is the only practical option, anything else could lead to catastrophe in the dark! I tried my best 'not to be awake' but Robbie talks regardless and if he gets no response he prods me until he does. I think he enjoys living dangerously!


Somehow we got on to the subject of names and I mentioned that some names like my own enable you to have a good guess about the age of the owner. Robbie mentioned the name Wendy and I told him that it was not really a name until used by J M Barrie in Peter Pan.  It was inspired by a nickname given to him by a little girl who called him her 'friendy' but because she had trouble pronouncing the R sound it became 'fwendy'. 


I don't think I told him that there are rare examples of the name before that, or that it was once a boy's name, but it was the middle of the night and I was keen to go back to sleep. Robbie refused to believe the J M Barrie reference and he was now in confrontational mode demanding to know where the term Wendy House came from. After a deep sigh I told him that it came from the Peter Pan story, but he refused to believe me.  He turned the light on and grabbed his Blackberry, I thought he was going to 'phone a friend' but he was doing a google search. Reluctantly he confirmed that I was right (he should be used to it by now!). Then finally I was allowed to get some sleep.

I Want My Bed Back!

I woke up early this morning, my back ached but I was still tired. I had to sit up for a while to let my back sort itself out, so I had half an hour on the computer. I tried not to look too closely at the chaos in the bedroom, we still haven't got our clothes sorted out properly since our holiday. Mentally I pushed that particular job higher up my 'to do' list, but my top priority at that moment was more sleep and I snuggled back under the duvet to make the most of my unhurried Sunday morning.


After a lazy morning Emily and I went shopping to buy a present for my new nephew and of course something for his big brother too. Baby George was easy to buy for, we chose some very cute clothes, then we spent ages trying to find something just right for Oliver. We chose Playmobil sets because Emily always loved those when she was little. It was lovely to spend time with Emily because I haven't seen much of her since getting back from our holiday.


Before we went out I'd asked Robbie to sort out his clothing. He had agreed rather too willingly so I didn't expect much action. I was pleasantly surprised to find that he was up in the bedroom sorting out when we got back. He came trotting down the stairs in his pants to explain that he'd been busy reorganising his Tshirts. He then went on to explain a rather complicated arrangement about what he keeps where, and I have to admit that I 'tuned out' at that point.


I didn't actually go and look at the bedroom until this evening when we got home from delivering my mum's luggage to her house. I am not sure what I expecter but what I saw were piles of clothes like molehills all over the bed. It didn't seem as if there was less 'stuff' around the room, but I couldn't be sure. He insists that he worked hard at sorting his clothes out, but I have a sneaky suspicion that he was sidetracked by his laptop. Who knows, all I can be sure of is that I still need to devote a couple of days to tidy the bedroom. When it was bedtime I had to send the 'mole catcher' upstairs to find the bed before I could get into it!

A Reluctant Farewell

I was awake very early on Saturday morning, I had to get up early but I woke even earlier. I went over and looked out of the window and saw the first silvery light of the sun rising over the sea. In the garden the bats were circling and I watched fascinated, I had never seen them flying in the early morning before. All too soon I had to drag myself away and attend to the pressing matters of real life. Before long I was washed and dressed and getting on with packing all the luggage into the car and cleaning and tidying the bungalow. Robbie took a few minutes to walk along the coast path to the shop to buy a paper and he took a lovely early morning photo of the beach.

Finally everything was packed into the cars and the cleaning was done. Robbie and I left mum and David and set off for Mundesley for a much loved breakfast at the beach cafe. We made a brief stop at the shop for Robbie and as I sat in the car looking at the sea I noticed that the gulls sitting on the groynes, they looked almost as if they were sitting in formation.

As I looked at all the familiar sights of Mundesley I couldn't help wondering when we would be back and how many things will have changed by then. After a delicious breakfast we returned to the car and drove back past Stow Mill, then Bacton and on through Walcott, we passed the shop, the bungalows and the beautiful church. Then on passed the turn to Happisburgh and a final glimpse of the lighthouse. Further on towards Stalham passed the now harvested fields and the familiar village signs. A series of reluctant farewells, then on to the wider and faster roads that would lead us home. 


We had a good journey traffic wise, but for me there was a feeling of sadness. We seemed to be leaving the summer behind us and heading back to face the worries and uncertainties of real life. There is one good thing about getting home, I love my own bed! 

Norfolk Here We Come - Again!

Robbie set the alarm on his Blackberry to the time that he wanted to wake up, so at a stupidly early time the alarm went off. For a small phone it makes a very loud noise, it could wake the dead, but it doesn't wake Robbie - apparently that's my job!  The alarm went off and sleeping beayty didn't flinch, I shouted at him to turn it off and he said yes but did nothing. I yelled louder, this time he obeyed and turned the alarm off, but he didn't wake up! This process was repeated ever 5 minutes until 5.20 by which time I was ready to kill. I made dark threats about the fate of his Blackberry and he woke up sufficiently to turn the alarm off completly before pulling the covers over his head and going back to sleep. I went off and had my bath and got on with my morning routine before trying to wake him again, but after a series of insults (from him) he finally got up and waddled off to the bathroom to have a shower. 


By some miracle we were ready to leave the house at 8.20 and after a quick detour for fuel and to buy Robbie some breakfast we were on the road just before 9am. heading for Norfolk. This time we were going to collect some of my mum's luggage to make her journey home a little easier on Saturday. Traffic was fairly heavy but we made good time and we were at the bungalow just after 11.30. It was so nice to be close to the sea again, to look our across the beach and to listen to the rythum of the waves, to me it seems like the heartbeat of the earth.


My mum and stepfather took us for lunch in Mundesley, it was very nice, lamb shank with vegetables and yorkshire pudding. Afterwards we took my mum shopping in North Walsham while David (my step father) relaxed back at the bungalow. As we set off for North Walsham a butterfly fluttered across the windscreen of the car and then it fluttered alongside the passenger window until we reached the end of the lane. Then as we travelled along the very pretty country road to North Walsham Robbie noticed that we had a stowaway, a grasshopper was travelling on the windscreen wiper. Foolish as it may seem I had vague worries about it not being able to get back to it's correct habitat, but by the time we reached North Walsham my attention had been taken up with other things. 


We spent a happy couple of hours in North Walsham, Robbie bought some railway magazines and a couple of prints of old railway posters but I had more practical matters in mind, I bought some oven cleaner! As we drove back Robbie made a series of excited squeals and pointed out of the window. Usually this signals that he has seen a train, but as there was no railway line nearby I realised that it must be something else. He wasn't pointing out of the window he was pointing at the window, the grasshopper was hitching a lift back on the passenger window! I think it bailed out at almost the same spot that we picked it up!


Robbie had a bit of a sulk because I was unable to stop at exactly the spot he requested to enable him to  take a photo of a tractor in an adjoining field. He got over it eventually and it was such a nice day that we were able to go and sit in the garden with a cup of tea, or in Robbie's case a cup of coffee. Later on we went for a walk on the beach and I found a lovely 'wishing stone', if only it really could make my wishes come true.


We sat outside and watched the bats flying around the garden for a while, but then Robbie decided to go and have a shower because he was too hot. I went in and chatted to my mum, then after an hour or so we realised that Robbie was 'missing in action', he hadn't made it to the shower he was sprawled across the bed fast asleep. He didn't surface again, so when I went to bed I had to wake him up and ask him to move so that he wasn't blocking the entire bed. He answered me, but when I asked him to move he lifted his legs in the air, peddled vigorously and then resumed his original position. It took consiberal effort to shift him but eventually he went off to have a wash and get ready for bed. I stood at the window looking out at the moon on the sea and wishing that I could hang on to the precious times that sometimes seem so fleeting.

Soon Robbie was fast asleep again. I snuggled under the duvet, but it was a long time before I fell asleep. I lay there listening to the sounds of the sea and remembering the many happy times and a few sad ones spent here. This little bit of Norfolk will always hold a special place in my heart.

Too Much Excitement

The road where we live is reasonably straight, then there is a bend and the road changes its name. This causes some confusion especially for delivery companies because it seems like one long road. Anyway, the 'powers that be' decided to have the road resurfaced, something which is long overdue it was more like the surface of the moon than a road. Each morning they closed the end of the adjoining road and they closed our road part way along to stop traffic getting stuck. Unfortunately it caused problems for me and many other residents trying to reach their homes, so I hoped that it wouldn't take too long. By the end of the first week my hopes had been dashed, they had taken the surface off the road, but there was no sign of a new surface. It is only a short road, not the M1 so I don't know why it took so long, maybe they were digging it up with a teaspoon!


After a second week of road closures and no significant action, they have managed to produce a road surface, still unfinished and not the smoothest I have driven on, but after waiting for two weeks I was glad to be able to drive along the road at last. Robbie had paid keen attention to the road closures because it altered the bus route slightly, and we all know that he loves to obsess about timetables! I wasn't really surprised by that, but I was amazed by his reaction to driving over the new road. His excitement about driving on a road with no marking was just plain weird, he still manages to surprise me!

Choose Your Battles Carefully

My son needed a lift home yesterday evening so we got back to the house together to find Robbie feuding with the cat. Apparently the cat had committed a terrible sin and Robbie was still running through his whole (extensive) range of insults. The cat was less vocal, but he was still winning on points because the looks that he was giving Robbie spoke volumes and it really didn't need to tell us what the cat was thinking at that moment! Both retreated to their respective corners, both still bristling with indignation and we returned to what passes for normality in our house. 


I was busy getting on with some writing and trying not to notice that my son was watching total junk on the television and I was only vaguely aware of what was going on in the room. Suddenly everything seemed to go quite and I became aware that a scantily clad Robbie was creeping across the room as if he was stalking prey. Robbie doesn't do anything quietly and he is not so good at stealth either - even when he thinks I don't know I usually do! It was a comical sight, almost like a scene from a cartoon, Robbie creeping across the room in slow motion stalking the cat. Apparently the cat had spotted Robbie's unattended (and empty) plate on the table and had headed in that direction to take a look. Robbie and the cat met at the table and some complicated footwork followed; as I watched Robbie it looked like a cross between a football tackle and a Cossack dance. The next thing I knew he was holding the cat in the air and telling him that he was a thieving fatherless feline. What the cat said doesn't bear repeating, he may not have any teeth but there is nothing wrong with his claws and Robbie was pushing his luck. He put the cat down and it beat a hasty retreat to the relative sanity of the hall. 

I think Robbie had a lucky escape this time, but that better be the end of it because I have no intention of taking him to casualty and explaining to the doctor that he got injured because he was arguing with the cat in his underwear!