Random Ramblings

A Nasty Taste in the Mouth

2012-01-30T15:10:00.000Z

Robbie is a bit of a mixture, in some areas of life he is very open to new ideas, in fact it is hard to keep up with him at times, but when it comes to changing a brand that he is used to it is a very different story. He is fastidious about hygiene and he has to have the right brand, 'flavour' and size of the many toiletries he uses. If a brand changes the shape or size of container, or heaven forbid if they change the fragrance I know that we will be in for a difficult few weeks. Last year we faced a couple of problems like that, his trusted brand of deodorant not only changed the shape of the container, they changed the contents. I had to agree with him that the new fragrance was horrible, it made me cough and according to Robbie it wasn't nice on the skin. After lots of moaning he grudgingly agreed that he had to change and I set about finding a suitable replacement with the right smell and a container that met his specifications. I was lucky I stumbled across a less well known brand that met his needs perfectly - and peace was restored.

Then horror of horrors they discontinued his flavour of mouthwash. I scoured the town looking for it, but in the end he had to face facts and try another brand. I bought several, but he wasn't impressed, then we found one that met with his approval. It wasn't cheap and he gets through it remarkably quickly, but it was worth it for a peaceful life. Then towards the end of last year the supermarket had his mouthwash on offer, it was better than half price so I stocked up. During the offer period I bought about a dozen bottles, which were left in the kitchen for several weeks because there was no logical place to store them. In the end I prevailed on Robbie to find a space and put them away. Imagine my surprise when he told me last week that he had run out of mouthwash and he needed me to buy more - at full price! I couldn't believe it, and under close questioning he conceded that he may have put the bottles away and forgotten where they were, but he thought it was more likely that I was mistaken and perhaps I had brought my son's brand rather than his. I am rarely mistaken! He wouldn't let me search for it at the weekend as he had tidied up, but I had my suspicions about where it was and when I had the house to myself today I played hunt the mouthwash. I found it stashed away next to the freezer (not sure why) so he now has 9 bottles to keep him happy!

Everything has beauty, but not everyone sees it. ~Confucius

2012-01-26T15:17:00.000Z

I don't know if I just have an odd way of thinking or if this sort of thing happens to everyone. Sometimes I spot something seemingly insignificant, but the memory of what I saw stays with me and takes on an unexpected significance. Some years ago I used to work in a village called Long Buckby and the journey between my home and my work took me through what I consider some of the most beautiful countryside in Northamptonshire. One year in January as I drove along a country road I saw some tinsel caught on the hedge. It was a frosty morning and the tinsel looked tawdry in comparison to the natural beauty of the frosty hedge. Yet just weeks before we had been excited by the prospect of Christmas and tinsel just like the piece stuck in the hedge had adorned our Christmas trees and added sparkle to our lives. Even now when I drive along that road I often remember the tinsel in the hedge. There is no man made 'sparkle' that can compare with the natural beauty of the world around us.

This week I took a close look at my front garden, it looks wintry and bare with just the first hints of life showing through. The trellis next to the front door that is covered in big purple Clematis flowers in May and June, is covered in the pretty yellow flowers of winter Jasmine. Last time I looked the winter Jasmine was in the far corner of the garden, but I guess it had other ideas and now I stop to appreciate it each time I unlock the front door. The green shoots of daffodils have pushed through the soil. They were in the garden when we moved here, for 20 years they have been ignored and neglected yet still they come to brighten the garden each spring. The tubs are empty now, their summer glory long forgotten. The stones around the base of the bedraggled rose bushes looked dull and unattractive. Each one had been lovingly collected by me over the years because I found the colour, shape or something else about the stone attractive, but now they looked dull and boring, a few even had moss growing on them. It looks as if we will need to get the power hose on the stones to restore their sparkle - but I am not sure that I want to arm Robbie with a power hose!

Perhaps this is a good lesson, sea washed stones only look truly beautiful when they are sea washed! Seeing the tinsel in the hedge made me appreciate the natural beauty of the hedge, and it made me see the beauty in the world around me. Perhaps everything (and everyone) has a place where true potential can be seen and appreciated.

By plucking her petals, you do not gather the beauty of the flower. ~Rabindrath Tagore

The Wrong Trousers

2012-01-21T00:01:00.000Z

Believe it or not there was yet another chapter to the trouser saga! Just in case anyone reading this has not read my recent posts I will recap briefly. Some time before Christmas we agreed that Robbie needed a new suit so he did his research, which included several trips to Marks and Spencer - his favourite shop. He chose the suit that he wanted but our local M&S had no stock in the size he needed so it was necessary to order the items online. They sell the jackets and trousers separately and much to Robbie's annoyance they had the jacket that he wanted in stock, but the trousers were not available in his size. So we decided to order the jacket and wait for them to get more stock of the trousers. Christmas came and went and Robbie (who had been checking the website twice a day) had almost given up on ever getting the trousers. Then finally the great day came, they were in stock and Robbie placed his order, he knew what size he needed and he ordered exactly the same size as the trousers he already has. He collected his trousers on a Friday from M&S in Birmingham, but he got distracted when leaving work and he managed to leave his trousers on his desk. The trousers had to be 'rescued' the following day but when he tried them on he found that they didn't fit, they were a bit on the tight side. It didn't make sense, they were exactly the same size as the ones he already has that fit him perfectly. He ordered the next size and when they arrived he said they were much more comfortable so he wore them to work.

Sadly that was not the end of the matter, he claimed they were too loose even with a belt and they kept slipping down. I don't want him to be arrested, so we will need to take the waist in a bit, next he said that they are too long and he is afraid of treading on them as he walks so we need to do something about the leg length too! I am sick of the whole trouser issue and Robbie seemed deeply affronted that he may be a non standard fitting. Anyway after weeks of constant complaint about trousers I have come up with the perfect solution - a kilt! It would certainly turn a few heads!!

If passion drives you, let reason hold the reins. Benjamin Franklin

2012-01-15T12:42:00.001Z

One thing that may be a mixed blessing for Robbie is that I understand him very well, too well for his comfort at times! There have been times such as the test card incident and the fuzzy felts birthday card when I've thought that Robbie didn't understand me at all, but that's not true. He knows that I love him and even when he gets things horribly wrong his intentions are usually good - misguided but good.

Thankfully I have help in keeping Robbie on the 'straight and narrow', my older daughter (mini me) and my mum (senior me) keep reminding him of the 'rules'.

1) Never attempt to buy clothes for me without 'advice'
2) Never spring a surprise on me - his type of surprises scare me!
3) Retro is not always good
4) Never choose music for me
5) Never make arrangements which can not be changed later.
6) If in doubt, don't!!

It probably makes me sound very boring, I'm not really, but perhaps I indulge in quieter passions than Robbie. I think the real difference is that I am the one who has to keep my feet on the ground and not let my passions run away with me.

I was so impressed with Robbie this week, he brought me a little treat and I was in heaven. It was a can of Root Beer from Cybercandy and it was absolutely wonderful, I love root beer. It was the perfect way to show he cared, not stupidly expensive and very thoughtful. There were just a couple of little problems, it made me wonder 'what he had done' (but I was tactful enough not to put that thought into words!) and it has left me craving Root Beer. Maybe he does understand me a bit after all, he certainly knows how to make me happy!!

Route Knowledge?

2012-01-14T23:55:00.000Z

Robbie has been extending his route knowledge recently, or at least that's his excuse. The combination of disturbed sleep (due to pain) and new medication caught up with him on his journey to work and he fell asleep on the train before reaching New Street. He awoke to find himself heading for Walsall - the train had reached New Street and departed again! Fortunately he catches a very early train in order to have a more comfortable journey so even after his 'little diversion' he was still at work in good time. Poor Robbie, he put on a brave face and joked about 'route knowledge' but he was quite upset about it. Sometimes trying to manage chronic pain can make even the simplest things very difficult.

When I wrote my previous blog entry about Robbie leaving his trousers at work, I thought that was the end of his 'trouser troubles' but the drama continued. Despite being exactly the same size as the trousers that he already has (that fit him perfectly) the new trousers didn't fit, so I had to deal with a very disappointed Robbie. We had the folded arms, the sulky look and the jutting bottom lip, but eventually he had to accept defeat and order a different size. The new ones arrived on Friday, but he has been so poorly that he hasn't tried them on yet - I think I will cry if these don't fit!

10 Ways to be Wicked

2012-01-11T13:21:00.001Z

I am used to all sorts of weird and not so wonderful suggestions finding their way to the junk folder of my email account. Several emails each week invite me to part with obscene amounts of money in order to enlarge my 'manhood'. They obviously know nothing about me! My mum made absolutely sure that I understood that a woman can do anything better than a man, because we take time to read the instructions! She is now a sprightly and determined 81 year old who can run rings around people half her age. Only a couple of weeks ago she announced that she has always been able to touch her toes with her hands flat on the floor and she would not going to give up doing so now, then just for good measure she gave a demonstration!

Today I received an email addressed to Robbie claiming to be from a regular blog reader suggesting that an article s/he had just written would dovetail well with the interests of those who read the blog. One look at the title, something along the lines of '10 Ways to be Wicked' showed me that it certainly was not something I wished to publicise. In any case 10 ways seems rather limiting, I am sure Robbie could think of 110 ways!!

Robbie provoked an interesting discussion on facebook with his appreciative comments about Shameless, one of his favourite television programmes. He referred to it as 'class', I don't watch it but I couldn't resist challenging him on that point, surely it is the very opposite of 'class'. I was pleased to find that there were one or two people who agreed with me. I know it is not real but I don't want to watch a fictional portrayal of the dregs of society failing as parents and most importantly of all failing as parents. I am not one for unnecessary rules and rituals but it troubles me that standards in this country seem to be eroding faster than our coastline. How hard is it for people to say please and thank you, to eat quietly with their mouth closed and to be aware that their behaviour can impact adversely on other people. It must be obvious that playing music through a mobile phone without headphones drives other people mad (especially on the bus or train). It must be obvious that holding a phone conversation while going through the supermarket checkout is downright rude and irritating to others in the queue who are being held up. So I must assume that people know that their actions are thoughtless, but they just don't care and that troubles me greatly. When I was little my grandma would occasionally tell me not to do something such as 'don't sit on the radiator or you will get piles' or 'don't pull faces, if the wind changes you will stay like that'. Once in a while I would dare to tell her that I didn't care and her response was always the same 'don't care brings care'. She may have been wrong about the piles but I think she was right that not caring has consequences.

Acceptance of prevailing standards often means we have no standards of our own. (Jean Toomer)

Tracking Down the Trousers.

2012-01-09T08:11:00.002Z

When it comes to excuses my family have always been more imaginative than most, but Robbie is in a class of his own. When he asked me to brave Birmingham on a Saturday he knew very well that I would say no, the thought of visiting Birmingham at any time fills me with horror. So he needed a good excuse to persuade me to join him on a trip to Birmingham on a Saturday. He announced that he had left his trousers at work and he needed to go and fetch them. It was not as worrying as it sounds, the railways were not brought to a standstill by the sight of Robbie in his 'smalls', the trousers in question were his long awaited new M&S trousers and he'd left them on his desk. They could have waited until Monday, but having waited weeks for them to have his size in stock he didn't want to risk them getting lost.

Robbie's track record when it comes to losing contact with his clothing is careless at the very least. His raincoat made an unplanned trip to to Plymouth without him last year when he left it on a train, he has previously left trousers, a hoodie, other sundry garments and his notebook on various trains. He has even dozed off and left himself on the train before! So rescue missions to recover missing items or a stranded husband are not uncommon. I grudgingly agreed to accompany Robbie on a trip to Birmingham to collect his trousers and we decided to make it a fun afternoon (not that 'fun' is a word that I would usually associate with a visit to Birmingham).

It was interesting to visit Robbie's office, it is rather nice. We also visited a couple of shops, Muji where I bought a set of nesting dolls for my next art project and Cybercandy which is amazing. I have bought items from their website before, but it was nice to visit the shop and see all the confectionery products from different countries. I was most tempted by the cans of 'soda' they sell root beer and I love root beer! They also sell Tab, just seeing that can brought memories flooding back. Robbie promised me a visit Starbucks, I prefer Costa because they do much nicer tea, but Robbie likes Starbucks and I have to admit that their fruit toast is rather nice.

Stopping to Look Both Ways

2012-01-02T10:23:00.000Z

We have had a lovely Christmas this year, nice food to eat, nice presents, but most important of all we were able to enjoy time with the people we love. We always have good intentions but life can be so busy that far too long can slip by without us spending quality time with family and friends. So the Christmas break has been especially important to us, we have enjoyed special moments with our wider family. It is rare that we are all together at the same time so that makes it extra special. After all the activity and chaos of Christmas Robbie and I appreciated a few days of quiet with nothing much to do and all day to do it. Usually our days start very early, so not being ruled by the alarm clock has been fantastic and I think it has done us both good to have time to unwind. Despite all the pre Christmas stress, I have really enjoyed this Christmas break and I will be sorry to see Robbie return to work tomorrow.

I am not a fan of new year celebrations. It always seems rather sad to be closing the door on the old year and I look ahead to the new year with a certain amount of trepidation, wondering what new worries and challenges it has in store. It is odd really as I am not a pessimist and I tend to take most of the ups and downs of life in my stride, I think mostly it is just fear of the unknown. Every year the world changes a little bit, situations change, new people come into our lives and some become very important, and sadly other people are lost from our lives. As the year draws to a close we remember the familiar faces no longer with us who have brightened our lives in various ways. We may not know them personally but we are touched by their loss and we will miss them. Perhaps I am just getting old but it seems to me that we have said too many goodbyes in the last year. Among those that I will miss most are George Baker who brought Inspector Wexford to life, Jimmy Saville because there was no one quite like him, Peter Falk because I loved Colombo, David Croft who wrote Dads Army as well as other great comedy shows and brought so much pleasure, Billie Jo Spears because I loved her voice, and Edward Hardwicke who I will always think of as Dr Watson.

Finding the Magic of Christmas

2011-12-29T00:01:00.001Z

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.

Least Said Soonest Mended

2011-12-24T10:08:00.001Z

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!

A Railway Rant

2011-12-14T16:15:00.001Z

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.

Strange Animal Spotted in Cornwall

2011-12-13T12:31:00.000Z

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!

Smooth seas do not make skillful sailors. ~ African Proverb

2011-12-11T22:43:00.000Z

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!

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

2011-12-09T21:52:00.000Z

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

2011-12-09T11:10:00.000Z

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.

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

2011-12-08T10:12:00.000Z

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

An Emergency Coffee Cup

2011-12-07T09:04:00.000Z

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!

Some Things Are Not Meant to Happen

2011-12-06T05:39:00.001Z

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!

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

2011-12-03T01:07:00.001Z

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?

A Good Start in Life?

2011-11-29T13:29:00.000Z

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

2011-11-26T09:20:00.001Z

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

2011-11-24T09:28:00.002Z

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

2011-11-22T12:11:00.000Z

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

2011-11-20T16:12:00.001Z

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.

2011-11-20T00:09:00.002Z

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)

2011-11-19T01:34:00.001Z

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

2011-11-15T16:02:00.001Z

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

2011-11-13T12:11:00.000Z

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

2011-11-09T09:13:00.000Z

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

2011-11-04T17:43:00.000Z

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?

2011-11-04T09:29:00.000Z

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 umbridge 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

2011-11-01T15:01:00.002Z

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.

Decisions, Decisions

2011-10-30T12:42:00.000Z

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!

Be Sure Your Sins Will Find You Out!

2011-10-27T14:12:00.000+01:00

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!

Living in the Past

2011-10-25T10:59:00.002+01:00

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!!

Reaching out to the Past

2011-10-24T09:13:00.000+01:00

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.

Normal Service is Resumed

2011-10-22T18:29:00.001+01:00

A series of problems have conspired to keep me from writing the blog for almost two weeks. The first was lack of internet access courtesy of AOL, but more of that later. We had a very stressful few days before we finally got back online, but then I was ill. I don't know exactly what was wrong, no doubt the doctor would say it was a 'virus' but whatever it was I felt absolutely dreadful and I spent several days in bed. I am feeling better but I hope nobody else gets it because it really wiped me out.

On a Thursday morning two weeks ago our internet connection failed at about 8am. It seemed that no internet signal was reaching the router but our telephone was working perfectly, so I wondered if there was a problem with our cables. I popped out to buy new cables but when I tried them there was still no signal, I even tried a different router but still there was nothing. I got the line checked and there was nothing wrong with the line, so there was no alternative we had to ring AOL. Robbie rang them first, but he had to give up on the call after half an hour because the man would not deviate from his script and was no help whatsoever. I hate having to talk to call centres in foreign countries at the best of times, but AOL have taken poor service to an all time low.

Anyway after over two hours of being passed from one unhelpful person to the next totally useless person I was reduced to tears of frustration. Not one of them spoke good enough English to understand me and I had extreme difficulty understanding them. To make matters worse they kept putting me on hold and playing dreadful music down the phone. My blood pressure must have been off the scale! They couldn't solve my problem, they didn't even seem to care about it. At one point they told Robbie that they could not check our internet signal because their equipment was broken and they had no idea when it would be working again! I told them that I had suffered enough and I wanted to leave AOL - NOW!! They treated me with total contempt and disconnected my call, but after calling back and queueing for an eternity they finally gave us the mac code needed to transfer to another provider.

We now have a better and faster internet service at less than half the price charged by AOL and as an added bonus their call centre staff speak and understand English! So normal service has been resumed and I will be able to bring the blog up to date.

Still Fantastic at Fifty

2011-10-16T11:49:00.002+01:00

Everyone knows about Robbie's passion for Deltics in general and Royal Scots Grey in particular. It is not hard to see why he loves Deltics so much, the power, the sound, the shape, they are awesome. The Deltics are celebrating their 50th birthday in style this year, there have been many special events and Robbie has been able to enjoy his beloved Royal Scots Grey on several occasions, but this has to be the highlight of the year. They still look fantastic at fifty!

Memories of a Special Day

2011-10-04T15:11:00.003+01:00

Robbie says that my memory is much better that his - that's probably because I don't stuff my head with train numbers, timetable information and assorted junk! I am better at remembering ordinary things. I can remember that October 4th 2005 was a nice sunny day, in fact I can even remember what colour socks Robbie wore on that day and what type of footwear he wore. It is not really surprising that I can remember the details of that day - it was the day that Robbie and I got married. Today is our sixth wedding anniversary, just an day really but it is nice to remember, so here are a few extracts from previous blog entries

This was written on our first wedding anniversary

It is only just over a year since we got married, but it feels as if Robbie and I have been together forever because despite 'eccentricities' we get on incredibly well. There were lots of reasons why we didn't rush into getting married, but there was one major obstacle for Robbie - I wanted him to wear shoes! For any readers who don't know him, he always wears Dr Martens (because he has different sized feet). Eventually Robbie negotiated a deal re the shoes for the wedding. He would wear Dr Marten Oxford shoes for the big day and I would make no objection to him buying a new pair of purple Dr Marten boots. I wouldn't have minded him buying the boots anyway, but I let him think he had struck a tough bargain! He does make me laugh.

He was even brave enough to suggest that I should also wear Dr Marten's. Apparently they do make Dr Martens for women, but there is no way on earth that I was going to wear them for my wedding - or any other occasion. Robbie's boots are incredibly heavy, it would have been like getting married in diving boots, I wouldn't have been able to lift my feet up! My friend got married wearing an Arsenal top, I was tempted by that idea, but I don't think I was designed for sports wear!!

This is why I remember the socks he wore

His taste in socks is almost as eclectic as his preference in shirts! He likes loud colours, and why settle for one loud colour when you can have loud stripes – he likes stripes! They even put in an appearance at our wedding. I have written before about the compromise we reached concerning Robbie wearing shoes rather than Dr Marten boots to get married. The little detail I had overlooked was the socks. On the day we were getting ready to leave the house when Robbie emerged wearing a very nice suit and bare feet. In his hand he carried a brand new rather noticeable pair of pink socks. There was no way that he was leaving the house in those, and after a forlorn attempt to fight his corner he headed back upstairs get some different socks. I thought nothing more about it until we were asked to sit down during the ceremony. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Robbie’s immaculate shoes and his hideous socks – they were clashing stripes of different blues. I have held a grudge against those socks ever since, but the dratted things never get separated in the wash and they show no signs of wearing out!

I loved our honeymoon

Apparently our honeymoon has become a bit of a legend among his work mates. Robbie works for a railway company as a train planner, and he is obsessively interested in everything to do with trains. His mates couldn't work out how he got away with a 'train focussed' honeymoon.

We had the most amazing start to our honeymoon. We spent an afternoon and evening in London cranking at Euston and the Kings Cross, after that we made our way across to Paddington. We had a first class booking on the Penzance sleeper, but it didn't leave until almost midnight, so I had plenty of time to enjoy the wonders of the First Class Lounge. Robbie got 'ants in his pants' and asked if he could go off and do a bit more train spotting. That was fine by me, I was happy to sit there and take in every detail of my surroundings, those rooms are incredible.

The sleeper journey was really special. I made sure I was awake in time to enjoy the early morning part of the journey. ‘Sleeping beauty’ didn’t wake up until his breakfast arrived! One of the most magical memories was watching the sun rise as we came towards St Michaels Mount.

Well I have shared quite enough details about our honeymoon! The rest of the week was great too …….and it involved lots more trains!!

I would love to go on the sleeper to Penzance again one day.

From Troubles of the World I Turn to Ducks - Frank W. Harvey

2011-10-02T22:50:00.002+01:00

There will be few words in this article because the pictures can tell their own story. It is 2nd October but today was as hot and sunny as a day in July, so Robbie and I went to the park to enjoy the sunshine.

There are several exercise contraptions positioned around the park. Robbie decided to use the twisty one, I think it is designed to work on waist and tummy muscles. It was very entertaining but I am not sure if it did any good!

Robbie spent a long time stalking a squirrel in the hope of getting the perfect shot. The squirrel obliged and posed for a photo, but Robbie accidentally deleted it - the photo not the squirrel! As we walked back from the ice cream van I picked up a conker and slipped it into Robbie's pocket. At the time he was busy eating his ice cream but when he found it a few minutes later he decided to search under a tree for more conkers. There was just one problem - it wasn't a Horse Chestnut tree!!

I never tire of this view. I used to come here as a child to feed the ducks or to fish for tiddlers, So many memories.

You are never too old to feed the ducks. I don't think anyone can sit by the lake watching the antics of the ducks and still feel miserable.

All along the backwater,

Through the rushes tall,

Ducks are a-dabbling,

Up tails all!

Kenneth Grahame

From the Top of the Bus

2011-10-02T10:10:00.000+01:00

A few weeks ago when I was writing about Robbie's passion for old buses I remembered catching the bus to town with my aunt when I was very young. Usually she would allow me to go up to the top deck and sit at the front. I liked this because I was high enough to see things that I couldn't possibly see from the pavement. If we walked into town we would stop on the bridge close to the station and my aunt would support me as I scrambled up to look over the wall and down on the station below. I wanted to stay there to watch all the comings and goings at the station, but I was never allowed to. The top deck of the bus allowed me to take a longer look at the station below and if the bus drove slowly enough and had to queue at the junction, I could look across and get a glimpse of the goods yard. The station yard always fascinated me because I could hear the trains from my home. The noises seemed more noticeable when I went to bed at night and I often asked my mum what the trains were doing. Her answer was always the same, shunting, it was probably the only railway related word that she could think of. When I asked what shunting was I got a very sketchy answer, so I was always keen to see the goods yard and see this mysterious 'shunting' with my own eyes.

Thinking about those days so far back in my memory prompted me to look for pictures of the station back then. Oddly I remember the sounds and smells better than any visual memories of the station at that time. It was redeveloped in 1964/5 (vandalised would be a more accurate term) so it is hardly surprising that my memories are not so clear, I was only 4 in 1965! I can remember feeling very cross with them for what they were doing, I felt as if they were spoiling everything. When the new station was built I still loved to look down at the comings and goings on the platform but I disliked the unfriendly new building. To me it looked as if someone had dumped some ugly farm sheds in the middle of the town. It was probably the first building that I actively disliked.

Looking at the pictures I can see that my childhood instincts were surprisingly accurate. Taking away the old station building and replacing it with little more than a tin shack was an act of vandalism and deeply disrespectful to the town. I travelled by train many times during my childhood and teenage years, and the station was cold, ugly and unwelcoming, the sort of place that you would avoid if you possibly could. It is a little bit better theses days because they had to modernise it some years ago, but there is much truth in the old saying - you can't make a silk purse out of a sow's ear. The only good thing I can say about Northampton Station is that the toilets are adequate and well looked after.

Now plans are afoot to redevelop the station building and the surrounding area. West Northampton Development Corporation are working with Network Rail on the new development. It is hard to think of an organisation more disliked and distrusted than Network Rail, but West Northamptonshire Development Corporation is 'it', it is loathed and distrusted by locals because of it's high handed ways and the horrible things that it has done to our town. The plans for the new development are horrible, the buildings are ugly, soulless and impractical. They certainly haven't planned it with the needs of local people in mind. It only we could travel back to a time before the old station was demolished and start again, then perhaps we could get it right.

A camel is a horse designed by committee. - Alec Issigonis.

Thanks For The Memories

2011-10-01T21:18:00.000+01:00

David Croft died a few days ago. This man whose face I would hardly recognise has brought me and countless others considerable pleasure over the years. With Jimmy Perry he created Dads Army, It Ain't Half Hot Mum and Hi-De-Hi. He also co wrote Are You Being Served?, 'Allo 'Allo, Grace and Favour, Oh, Dr Beeching and You Rang M'Lord? David Croft's work brought smiles and laughter to my childhood and the humour continued through my adult life. Oh Dr Beeching was among my favourites, with it's gentle humour and nostalgia for a time past, but my absolute favourite was Dad's Army.

I was only 7 when Dad's Army first came to our screens, I watched it with my Dad and he used to tell me that when he was in the Home Guard he was a bit like Frank Pike, obsessed with the cinema, not quite grown up and burdened with an over protective mother - but my grandma was much more straight laced than Mrs Pike. I remember my dad taking me to see the Dad's Army film as a special treat. It is special because I have so few memories of doing things with my dad. My favourite characters were Joe Walker and Arthur Wilson, I remember feeling so sad when James Beck the actor who played Walker died. Perhaps more than any other comedy Dad's Army has stood the test of time. It is still regularly shown on television and it is still enjoyed by viewers, in fact when I got home this afternoon I turned on the television and found that the Dad's Army film was on. I am sure I laughed as much today as when I first saw it all those years ago. If David Croft and Jimmy Perry had found the secret of successful writing it was perhaps that they wrote about what they knew, they had both been in the army during the second world war. They also understood character, they wrote about real people with strengths, weaknesses and funny little quirks. Their humour did not mock, it recognised the humour in a situation but it respected the strengths and humanity of the characters.

David Croft has left a legacy of laughter that I am sure will live on for many years to come. Thank you for the memories.

Good Advice - Keep Your Mouth Shut!

2011-10-01T13:40:00.001+01:00

Sometimes I wonder about my fellow human beings, they say and do some really stupid things at times, if only they would stop and think first! At the checkout in a toyshop a 'normal' looking woman began shouting at a member of staff. She had bought a dolls twin buggy and was complaining that the shop did not sell twin dolls. The member of staff explained to her that she could buy two identical dolls of her choice, or she could choose dolls with the same features but different outfits, or even a boy and a girl doll from the same range! The woman continued to shout and swear and insisted that it would be no good unless it said 'twin' on the box!!

'Even a fool is thought wise if he keeps silent' Proverbs 17.28

In the same toy shop I spotted a display of Smurf figures. It reminded me of visiting Roy's Toys in Wroxham with Robbie, when he saw the Smurfs he was so excited that he practically jumped up and down and begged to buy one. Anyway, I was looking at a box containing a set of Smurfs and I realised how closely they represented the many faces of Robbie. Before he takes offence I'd better explain. There is one with (almost) Robbie type glasses carrying a book, it reminds me of the countless times he says "Did you know ..........................." There is one with red trousers (enough said on that subject in my recent post), there is one with a daft grin and one with his arms folded looking very moody. Even the one in the kilt reminds me of Robbie because he never misses an opportunity to show off the Burgess legs! There is also a female Smurf (Smurfette) I am not suggesting that Robbie is a closet tranny, of course not, he has no problem being in touch with his feminine side. He often tells me that he was just as happy to play with Barbie dolls with his cousin as to play with his beloved Tonka toys. I tried to make sure that my own children were brought up in the same way.

So which of those Smurfs is my favourite, that is easy, it has to be Grouchy because that expression is so like Robbie when he has a strop!

Last of the Summer Sun

2011-10-01T10:52:00.000+01:00

When I went to the supermarket earlier this week, it felt as if I had taken a step back to early August. It was very hot with bright sunshine and and everyone was wearing short sleeved tops. To my surprise it has remained and sunny ever since. Of course looks can be deceiving, it may be hot in the middle of the day, but the early morning is dark and distinctly nippy and the long summer evenings have been chased away by the encroaching autumn darkness. I am always pleased to see the sun, but in a way the sunny days this week are a sad reminder of all that has gone. Was it really six weeks ago that we were on holiday in Norfolk?

I love the summer, I don't need the weather to be too hot, just warm and comfortable, but mostly I love the long days and warm pleasant evenings. I think my favourite month is May when there are so many wild flowers and it warm with long lazy evenings and the summer stretches ahead of us. September is my least favourite month, it feels as if the darkness closes in around us with dark mornings and encroaching darkness in the evening with the promise of worse to come. We all have little triggers that remind us of past sadness and for me it is the sound of conkers falling to the ground from Horse Chestnut Trees. I remember the excitement of getting up early to go and collect conkers when I was little and I did the same when my children were little, so there are some good memories. However they are overshadowed by the memory of sitting in a hospital room, looking out at the beautiful grounds and hearing the conkers fall from the trees with a thud on to the grass below. In the quiet of the night the thud of the conkers falling seemed very loud. How odd that something so insignificant can sound so loud when a human life can slip away noiselessly.

Red For Danger

2011-09-24T12:00:00.003+01:00

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

2011-09-22T08:31:00.000+01:00

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!!

What Do You Want?

2011-09-21T10:45:00.002+01:00

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

2011-09-19T12:20:00.001+01:00

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!

2011-09-18T15:04:00.002+01:00

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 fight 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.

2011-09-15T09:15:00.000+01:00

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?

2011-09-12T23:50:00.000+01:00

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

2011-09-11T10:36:00.004+01:00

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 if 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

2011-09-09T11:48:00.000+01:00

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

2011-09-09T00:07:00.000+01:00

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 ...................!!!

A New Chapter

2011-09-07T11:59:00.000+01:00

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

2011-09-06T08:39:00.001+01:00

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!

2011-09-05T01:00:00.001+01:00

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

2011-09-04T11:43:00.002+01:00

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!

2011-09-03T18:07:00.001+01:00

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

2011-09-02T05:47:00.000+01:00

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

2011-09-01T10:17:00.001+01:00

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 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!

On Parade?

2011-08-31T08:02:00.000+01:00

When we got back from holiday I had so much to write about that I forgot to mention the guard of honour that greeted us. When we first got into the house things were a bit chaotic and it wasn't until I sat down later on that I noticed that there was a line of Lego minifigures standing to attention on top of the unit in the lounge. I didn't think much of it until Robbie commented darkly that someone had been playing with his Lego figures. I thought that was unlikely, when I asked the possible culprits the reason for line up proved rather ordinary. I had asked them to tidy the lounge and they had collected up members of Robbie's mini gang from various places in the lounge and put them all together on the unit in the hope that Robbie would put them away upstairs. I know that Robbie is 'unique' but it feels back to front to have the children telling their step father to put his toys away!

Robbie was late home yesterday so I met him on my way back from work. He nearly burst with excitement when he went to put his bags in the back of the car and he saw that I had bought him a Lego minifigure bag from Toys R Us. His excitement was out of all proportion to the cost of the bag, he even took a photo of it and posted it on Facebook!

Apparently Size Does Matter!

2011-08-29T23:16:00.000+01:00

Yesterday evening I was sitting quietly in the lounge doing some writing when I noticed out of the corner of my eye that Robbie was loitering by the fruit bowl for a suspiciously long time. I turned to look and caught him measuring bananas. I really should know better by now, but I couldn't help asking why. He told me that he was selecting a banana to fit into his banana carrier for work tomorrow. I knew this would happen, before long he will expect me to check the dimensions of the bananas in the supermarket, or even worse he will get himself arrested for measuring bananas at the supermarket! When he came home from work today he cheerfully announced that he had been to another department at work to show the women his banana carrier - I wonder what they thought!

I had some very happy news yesterday, I have a new nephew. He arrived a little early but he and his mum are fine. His big brother who is three had been hoping for a sister and he asked then to take the baby back and exchange it for a girl! I expect he will soon get used to his baby brother. They kept us waiting until today for news of a name, I rather like their choice but my brother seemed lost for words (a very rare event) when I reminded him that he had named his son after my cat!

A Blast From the Past

2011-08-29T01:24:00.002+01:00

My dad died over thirty years ago, I was only 6 when he became ill so there were many things that I wish I had been able to ask him but didn't have time to. I knew that he had been in the army during the latter years of the war, I even had a few pictures from that time but I wished I knew more about what he did and where he went. It was just one of the many things that I thought I would never know. Then completely out of the blue I was contacted by someone who told me that during the war the Post Office in Northampton produced a monthly newsletter called Northampton News sharing letters home from post office workers in the forces or doing war work. My dad had been a Post Office messenger before going into the army and his letters home were among those published in Northampton News.

The newsletters have been made available as scans, it is hard to read some of them, but I have picked through them and found the ones showing letters from dad, they start in 1943 when he was 17 and go on to 1945. It is a little glimpse of his army service in his own words so it tells us much more than his service record would show.

"On receiving the 'News' yesterday with the first mail I have had for a few days, it woke me to the fact that beside not getting any mail I hadn't had much chance of writing. We have bags of work now with our lads advancing so fast and have very little time to ourselves. I am now in Germany although I am glad to say that much of my work takes me into Holland. It seems to me that there won't be much left of Germany to occupy after the bashing it's had. I thought Caen (Normandy) was bad but it is nothing compared with some German towns. In some towns there is not one civilian left and not a house standing. Not just one or two places like this, but town after town.

Yesterday I got into camp at 4 o'clock after a week on the road and took my truck into 'shops'. I collected it at 10.30pm. Then first thing this morning I was off again and this letter is being written in one of my few breaks on the road. That's keeping the wagon rolling isn't it?" (early 1945)

The editors of Northampton news must have made a very big difference to to all those people so far from home, but they could not possibly have known what a difference their hard work has made to me so many years later. They have given my dad a voice over thirty years after his death and they have made it possible for him to tell me about himself in his own words. I wish I could thank them, but of course it is far to late for that. I would like to thank David who realised the value of the old copies of Northampton News and not only took the time to scan them, but also made an effort to share them with relatives of the letter writers. It has helped me to understand my dad a little better and I think I have a better understanding of how worried my grandma must have felt. When he joined the army at 17 my dad was only a few months older than my son is now, that is scarily young, she must have been so frightened for him.

'Letters are among the most significant memorial a person can leave behind them.' Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

The human voice is the organ of the soul.

2011-08-28T15:16:00.000+01:00

Saturday was our first day off since getting back from holiday, we had loads to do but we didn't do any of it so we have a busy Sunday ahead!

We had a nice lazy and quirky Saturday - any day with Robbie ends up being quirky. I didn't wake up very early and it was lovely to cuddle up to Robbie and know for once that we didn't have to rush. Robbie (always a creature of habit) paused during an intimate moment to share one of his random snippets of information. According to Robbie you can only use 420 characters when updating your Facebook status. It left me feeling rather anxious, I don't want every aspect of my life to become a Facebook update!!

A trip to Morrisons proved more challenging than usual. I have done something to my ankle and I was struggling to walk. Thankfully Robbie was walking quite well (but still in pain) otherwise it would have looked very odd with us both limping. We treated ourselves to a meal at Morrisons and in a weak moment I agreed to let Robbie have a curry - I hate curry! All went well until later in the day when he came bounding across the room to give me a kiss. He had scary breath and I sent him off to the other side of the room for the rest of the day.

We still managed to have fun at a distance. Robbie wanted me to listen to a voice message from his cousin in America. They found each other through a family history site and they get on extremely well. I knew what she looked like but until yesterday I didn't know what she sounded like (except for Robbie's very inaccurate rendition of the way she says his name). It was really interesting to listen to her talking about ordinary day to day things, well most of it was ordinary, one or two things were so random that they were worthy of Robbie. Clearly they share a randomness gene, but in her case it seemed much more controlled. One nice surprise was her voice, it was lovely and very easy to understand. I don't know why that came as a surprise, I guess we are exposed to a few scary American accents on television and I just seem to expect that American women either sound like Marge Simpson or Minnie Mouse. Anyway she had a very nice speaking voice and a lovely accent, but I couldn't help wondering what she makes of Robbie's accent. He says that she has no trouble understanding him, I doubt that somehow - but maybe the family connection helps.

'Words mean more than what is set down on paper. It takes the human voice to infuse them with deeper meaning.' Maya Angelou

On Target

2011-08-27T05:02:00.000+01:00

In a way I had been dreading Thursday morning, what if the unthinkable happened, what would I do then? The problem was that I was not in control, I had done my best or at least I thought I had, but this wasn't about me. All I could do was get on with my morning and wait for the phone to ring.

At last the phone took pity on me and rang. A rather cheerful voice at the other end informed me that he had passed. He had some very pleasing results and most important of all he had got more than enough to get into the sixth form of his choice. After a huge sigh of relief, I was the proud mum full of congratulations and cross with myself for my moments of doubt.

So why was I so anxious, I don't recall being this nervous when his sisters got their results. He is every bit as bright and able as his sisters, but perhaps not as diligent. The girls were able to continue to the sixth form at the same school, but 'the son who must remain nameless' wanted to change schools. We all agreed that it would be the best option for him, and he had been offered a place at the better school (the one his sisters attended) but he needed at least 8 good GCSE grades in order to take up his place. Perhaps it isn't so surprising that I was anxious, so much depended on his results.

Today I took 'the nameless one' to the new school for a meeting to sort out his timetable and do all the necessary paperwork before starting school a week on Tuesday. He will be one of only a handful of boys at an all girls school, but I am certain it is the right place for him. It is not always easy for him to cope with ordinary things because of his Asperger Syndrome, but the next couple of years will be very important not just in achieving good A level results but in helping him to become independent enough to thrive at university.

Fashion is more usually a gentle progression of revisited ideas.

2011-08-25T11:55:00.000+01:00

I haven't seen much of Robbie since we got back from Norfolk. On Monday he went to work even earlier than usual and he was late home, then on Tuesday he got me up stupidly early because he was going to Scotland. I didn't see him again until late on Wednesday evening when he got home late in the evening. He did manage to ring me late on Tuesday evening, but it was more of a monologue on the subject of trains than a conversation. When he got home he was fairly talkative, but as usual it was all about trains, except for a brief description of the design of the lift at the hotel he stayed in and a casual mention of the type of fabric used to make the underwear that is in the sale at Marks and Spencer. Sometimes I just wish that Robbie could be a little more 'normal'.

I have taken time to spend some time with my son this week (the one who does not wish to be named). I missed him very much when we were on holiday, so on Monday we went shopping for things he will need for school in September. Like me he has a fascination with stationary and pens, so it was fun shopping for all that stuff. When it comes to clothes I find his fashion sense interesting and rather confusing. According to George Bernard Shaw 'The novelties of one generation are only the resuscitated fashions of the generation before last'. That is certainly true in his case, I feel sure that my dad would have worn cardigans in the early 1960s like the ones that 'the nameless one' wanted! I had already bought some shirts and trousers for him but he wanted a couple of cardigans. I made him wait for those, partly because they were very expensive and partly he has been known to change his mind. He had waited for several weeks and he was still just as determined that they are exactly what he needs for sixth form, so we went ahead and got them. I have to admit that they look much better on him than they did in the shop. I am still not so sure about his trousers, I had just about got used to him insisting on skinny fit, but apparently carrot fit is the must have 'look'. I asked him to explain what carrot fit meant and he said that they are a new interpretation of skinny fit,
they are are worn loose at the thigh tapering to a skinny ankle. I couldn't help asking why? To me they look very odd with a baggy bottom and the crotch only just above the knees! It certainly doesn't look very comfortable, I just hope that it doesn't give Robbie any strange ideas, he has more than enough clothing fetishes already.

'Fashion is more usually a gentle progression of revisited ideas.' Bruce Oldfield

Travelling Light - or Not!

2011-08-24T15:14:00.000+01:00

When we got home on Sunday evening we had lots to do to be ready for work on Monday. We had to get evidence ready to post to CSA the next day and Robbie being Robbie couldn't possibly face work unless he had the correct pants, so we had to deal with several loads of washing. All the essentials were done and Robbie was able to face work with his 'thinking pants' on, but I was just too tired to unpack and put away all our luggage. It had been our intention to travel light, but we were so busy and so worried before the holiday that packing was a bit haphazard. Robbie had taken 48 Tshirts as well as long sleeved tops, jackets and enough pairs of shorts to dress a centipede. Getting them ready to pack was one thing, getting them to all fit back in his draws and wardrobes is still a work in progress! I think by the time I have unpacked and got everything back to something approaching normal I will need another holiday!

Forgiven?

2011-08-24T07:58:00.001+01:00

Returning home from holiday felt like coming back to reality with a bump. We still have the huge cloud of the disputed CSA arrears hanging over us, as well as various other worries and uncertainties, and I really need to find another job. When we walked into the house there was no one there to welcome us, no wagging tail, just a dog shaped space where Meg should have been, I am really going to miss her, she was part of our family.

The cats were doing their own thing, Oreo was at the top of the stairs watching the birds out of the window and Dave was dozing on the sofa, he chose not to notice our arrival. Usually he would come to me straight away, but when I put my hand out to touch him he turned away, making it very clear that he was not happy with me. We had loads to do on Sunday evening, so there wasn't much time to think about Dave, but he managed to radiate disapproval, he was punishing me for going away and leaving him. He kept up the hostility until lunchtime on Monday, then when I sat down with my laptop he came and sat on the back of my chair, then after a little while I noticed that he had moved silently on to my lap and was purring loudly - I had been forgiven!

'For a man to truly understand rejection, he must first be ignored by a cat.' Anon

Homeward Bound

2011-08-23T14:52:00.000+01:00

Sunday morning dawned and I woke up much early, for a while I just lay there listening to the sounds of the sea and wishing that I could turn back time. I wanted to see my son and daughters, but the prospect of returning to the real world with all its worries seemed daunting to say the least. Before long I was busy packing up our last items of luggage and our holiday was well and truly over. There wasn't very much to pack so I took time to take a little walk along the coast path to say goodbye to the sea. I stood for a moment to try to imprint all the sounds and smells of the beach on my memory so that when I look back at my photos I will be transported back to this time in my mind.

All too soon it was time to leave the bungalow, but we had one last treat to look forward to, Sunday lunch in Mundesley with my mum and step father. It was roast beef, my absolute favourite, Robbie likes it too, but he is not too keen on vegetables, under pressure from me he made a token effort and added a teaspoon full of peas to his plate leaving me to enjoy a lovely selection of vegetables. After a last look around Mundesley Robbie set the sat nav to 'home' and we set off on our journey back to reality.

The sat nav took us on an interesting and attractive route that was suspiciously like the route we took the previous week when we went to the North Norfolk Railway. Sure enough the sat nav led us to Holt and right past the turning to the railway, we didn't stop but Robbie had time to see the double decker bus that they have. He swears that it was just the way that the sat nav chose to take us, but I am not so sure. I think he has found an application that takes us past as many railway landmarks as possible. We passed level crossings, railway bridges and various other railway related points of interest - next time I will take control of the sat nav!

All Good Things Come To An End

2011-08-21T08:34:00.001+01:00

We are not going home until Sunday, but Saturday morning found me packing up most of our belongings and cleaning the bungalow as my mum and step father were coming to start their holiday. Every year i promise myself that we will take much less, but every year we break that promise. We were so busy before we came to Norfolk that packing was a rather hit and miss affair, but how did Robbie mananage to bring 28 Tshirts with him, did he seriously think he would wear two Tshirts every day? In reality he has only worn a handful of his favourite tops, because I have washed them so that he could wear them again.

Finally we were all packed up and the bungalow was clean and shining so we could get on and enjoy the day. Robbie was in a lot of pain and it was making him lose patients with his jigsaw, so I did a bit for him - it is so hard but I was determined that we would get it finished. I didn't do very much because Robbie took over again to finish it, it looked fantastic when it was completebut after taking a photo we had to break it up and pack it away.

we went down to the beach because I wanted to take some photos and as we stood there looking out across the beach a seal popped up directly in front of us, within seconds he was gon again, but for rhe next few minutes he kept popping up and then vanishing again. Robbie and I watched until he swam away along the coast. It was a very special way to mark our last day in Norfolk.

When we went to bed Robbie got me up to look out of the window at the moon and it's silver reflection on the sea -he can be romantic after all, he just hides it well!!