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!

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!

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'.

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! 

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. 

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

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.

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!

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!

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! 

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.