Normal Service Has Been Resumed

Probably those words will not mean anything to younger people, but they will be very familiar to my generation. When I was a child it was fairly common for technical difficulties to interrupt television programmes (there were only three channels back then) and the when things went wrong they would put up the test card and play music until they could fix the problem. The announcer would tell us that "normal service will be resumed as soon as possible" and we would wait hoping that the break in service wouldn't last very long and even normal broadcasting was about to resume the announcer would say ".... Normal service has been resumed"

From the point of view of the blog 'normal service has been resumed'. I stopped writing the blog several months ago because I was unwell and my stamina levels were extremely low. It was a real struggle just to cope with the essentials of life. I was determined that the blog would not become a miserable tale of woes, but it was such a struggle to keep my writing bright and up beat when I had been feeling unwell for so long that I was losing hope of ever feeling better.

The good news is that after attending a lot of hospital appointments and seeing three different consultants I am finally getting better. I am not coughing anymore - well not much anyway! More importantly I have reason to hope that this is not just a temporary calm between bouts of illness, but a sign that we are dealing with the  causes of the problem rather than the symptoms. There is still a long way to go but I feel so much better.

So what has been happening with us over the last few months? I suppose there are lots of things that I should have written about, but I will catch up with some of those over the next few weeks. Robbie has been working in Darlington for the greater part of each week. Surprisingly it is an arrangement that suits us both fairly well, Robbie enjoys the work and staying in Darlington is better than a long commute every day. I miss him of course but it is nice not having to get up before the birds every day to take him to the station. I'd better make the most of it because his contract ends in mid September and his next contract will involve a daily commute. He is really looking forward to a new challenge and it will be nice to have him at home again. My daughter obtained her post graduate qualification in June and she is now a fully qualified geography teacher. She has a job at a school about half an hour away from our home and she is looking forward to the new challenges that the September term will bring. 

Robbie and I are getting ready to go on holiday to Norfolk, so I will do my best to update the blog every day, but the Internet connection in Norfolk is precarious that I will not make any promises! I probably will not be able to add any photos I get home again.

10 Ways to be Wicked

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)

Turning Heads

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


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

The sea hath no king but God alone - Dante Gabriel Rossetti

We had a beach day today, it was lovely. The sun was out, there was a gentle breeze and the only cloud on the horizon was the man next door. The sight of him in Speedos (again!) was more like a total eclipse than a cloud but we did our very best to ignore him. The beach stretches on as far as the eye can see, so when we went down to the beach and spotted him in the sea we took a brisk walk in the opposite direction and we found a nice section of beach all to ourselves.

Robbie sat and watched while I wandered around taking photographs. He was enjoying the sun and for the very first time this holiday he allowed me to take a photo of him. He is very unhappy with his hair at the moment because he was so busy before we came away that he didn’t have time to have his hair cut. Hopefully we will put that right in the next few days .


This evening we popped into Tesco for some milk, but Robbie really struggled to walk around the shop, the pain was almost beyond endurance and it has continued to be really bad all evening. He tries so hard not to make a fuss, but you can see that he hardly knows how to move. I wish I could do or say something to make him feel better, but it is usually better to say very little and not to make a fuss, the last thing he wants is sympathy. He will have to go back to the doctor when he gets home, he can’t go on like this.