Probably Not the Next Samuel Pepys

I had to write a one day diary for a local history project that I am involved with so I thought that I would share it on the blog too.

Saturday 22nd September 2012

I really must be mad! The insistant bleeping of the alarm clock woke me at 4.30am, I reached out to turn it off and then remembered that I had moved it out of reach the night before to make absolutely sure that I woke up. I sat up and reached down to silence the alarm clock, Robbie was still sleeping soundly so I gave him a prod and told him that it was 4.30am and if he wanted to catch his train he needed to get moving right now, then I dashed off to beat him to the bathroom. When I got back to the bedroom he plodded off to get ready while I sneaked back under the covers for ten minutes, after all 'normal people' would still be fast asleep. The next thing I knew it was almost 5am and he was back in the bedroom showered and almost ready to go. It is surprising how fast you can get ready when you really have to. 

When I got downstairs he was just packing his lunch into his rucksack and by the time he got outside I had already started the car and we were all ready to go. The car knows the way to the railway station, we do that journey so often. On weekdays we are usually up at 5am so that he can catch his train to Birmingham just after 6am, so I look forward to a more leisurely start to the day on Saturdays and Sundays. Unfortunately the lure of the railway gets the better of him and he just can't keep away. Today he is going to the Deltic Gathering at the East Lancashire Railway, he is absolutely passionate about Deltics, especially his favourite Royal Scots Grey. I would have gone with him because I like Deltics too, but I have a terrible cough at the moment, it is exhausting and I haven't been sleeping very well, so I just don't have the stamina to cope with a long day on the railways at the moment.

He waved as he slammed the car door and walked towards the station. I felt a sense of relief, I had fulfilled my promise and got him there on time, now the rest of the day was my own and if I wanted to I could go back to bed. I clicked the radio on, radio 4 is the soundtrack to my life, I always have the radio on at home or in the car. I only half listened to the discussion about TB in cattle and the pros and cons of culling badgers to limit the spread of bovine TB, as I drove up the hill away from the railway station. I was thinking that my ancestors were closely linked with this part of the town. My great grandfather was orphened when very young, he grew up in the work house, but he when he was sent to be an appentice to a cordwainer in Leicester Street, he found a trade and a family and he spent the rest of his life in Leicester Street. His daughter my great grandmother grew up there, had her first home as a married woman in the next street and she brought her large family up just a couple of streets away. The area as they knew it is now long gone, but there is still one landmark that they would recognise, the spire of Seps Church still points heavenward, the clock still measures the relentless march of time in hours and minutes. The church which for centuries has witnessed the joys and sorrows of the people, stands strong and defiant amid the 'here today gone tomorrow' buildings of our modern town, reminding us of lasting values that are too easily forgotten amid the demands of modern life.

When I got home I put the kettle on for a much needed cup of tea and while I waited for it to boil I sorted the laundry into piles and put on the first load of the day. I was too awake to go back to bed and sleep, but I felt bruised and exhausted from all the coughing so I took my cup of tea and my laptop up to bed. I may not sleep but at least I could sit quietly with the radio and my laptop to occupy me. I enjoyed a couple of hours catching up with email and facebook and I began to write my diary entry for today. I must have fallen asleep at some point because it was mid morning when I woke up. I enjoyed a long relaxing bath while listening to Radio 4, a shower is fine most of the time, but there is something special about a nice hot bath. I wish this cough would get better, it is so exhausting.

It is unusual to be at home on my own, but today was very quiet, my son stayed at his friend's house last night, my older daughter had gone to Milton Keynes with her boyfriend and my younger daughter was shut in her room writing up notes in preparation for her post graduate course at Leicester University which begins on Monday. I like my own company and I never struggle to fill my time. There was a whole list of jobs demanding my attention today, but I only did the laundry and the routine tasks, I decided that the peace and quiet was too precious to waste, the other jobs can wait until I feel better.

The only problem with doing nothing is that you have too much time to think and this was one of those days that provided a lot to think about. Nine years ago today I sat with my first husband Eric in the Three Shires Hospital as the last hours of his life slipped away; then I went home and told my children that their dad was dead. Life goes on but those memories don't  fade, it is not something that you forget despite the passage of time, the details of that day are imprinted on my mind. I found myself wondering how he would feel about the way our lives have changed. I hope that I have done a good enough job as a parent, it hasn't always been easy. Eric didn't want me to be on my own if the worst should happen, but it must be hard at times for Robbie, living with a ghost. Perhaps it helps that they are very different. 

My son came home and my daughter emerged from her room, she had finished her work and was ready to fulfill her promise to paint my nails with crackle nail varnish, silver base with black crackle on top. It looked very nice. I hardly ever wear nail varnish, but it is nice to spoil myself once in a while and it is lovely to share moments like this with my daughter.

Time went on, we ate early because my daughter was going out later. My daughter went to get ready and I left my son to feed the cats while I drove to the station to pick my Robbie up. On the way back we popped into Morrisons for a printer cartridge and one or two essentials. I was glad to get home, but I had to go straight out again because my daughter wanted a lift into town. She looked amazing. We picked her friend up on the way and I dropped them both off at The Goose. By the time I got home again Robbie had a cup of tea waiting for me and I chatted to him about his day for a little while, he'd had a lovely time. 

Later on Robbie wanted to watch a film, it wasn't really my sort of thing so I decided to head up to bed with my laptop to listen to Radio 4 Extra and catch up with my friends on facebook. The cough was impossible, I couldn't stop coughing and I couldn't get my breath, it was a very frightening feeling, I was exhausted but I knew that I had another sleepless night ahead of me. Thank goodness for the internet and friends who stay up late and are happy to chat at 2am. How different from my childhood when my mum considered it very bad manners to make a telephone call after 9pm. 

The best remedy for a short temper is a long walk - Jacqueline Schiff

The church in Abington Park 

Robbie and I don't manage long walks these days, but if you pace yourself it is surprising what you can do. We are so lucky to have a very beautiful park on our doorstep, whatever the season there is always beauty around. We always enjoy a visit to the park on crisp winter afternoons we retreat to the Park Cafe for a warming cup of coffee, but when the weather is kinder we prefer to sit on a bench watching the squirrels chase around under the trees or to sit by one of the lakes watching the ducks. If you are weighed down by the troubles of the world, watching ducks is the best medicine, you can't watch their antics without smiling.   

St Peter and St Paul Abington

The Church of St Peter and St Paul is at the heart of the park, it looked magnificent in the sunshine and we had to stop for a moment to take a photo. The trees look beautiful at this time of year, suddenly there is blossom and signs of new growth all around us. The park was busy with people having fun and enjoying a lovely spring afternoon, and as we walked I felt grateful to those people who cared enough to provide this wonderful park for the town all those years ago. I wonder what the people of my own time will pass on to future generations? We have a lot to live up to.

Enjoying the early spring sunshine

I hardly ever appear in photos on the blog, but this is a rare glimpse of me sitting on a bench with Robbie, enjoying an ice cream in the sunshine before heading home

A Good Start in Life?

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

It's Always The Badly Dressed People Who Are The Most Interesting.

The title of this post is a quote from Jean Paul Gaultier, I think he is right, but I have to remind myself of that sometimes. My children have been know to call me harsh, and I have to admit to some rather uncharitable remarks (in the privacy of my own car) when confronted by some of the sights that we encounter. Clearly some people do not possess a mirror and do not check their rear view, because if they could see what I could see they would never leave the house! I am not the least bit interested in clothes or fashion, I like comfort and given the choice I would spend every waking moment in jeans. However I can manage to look smart and dress appropriately when the occasion demands it. I have not been blessed with a good figure  or height, I am short and stumpy so I am at a disadvantage when it comes to clothes, but I can still manage to dress in a way that doesn't scare passers by. More to the point, I am surrounded by family members who would tell me loud and clear if I looked too unsightly in what I had chosen to wear. Robbie doesn't do tact, he speaks his thoughts!   


So, to get to the point. Most of the coverage I have read about the royal wedding has been about what people wore and much has been made of those who were deemed to be fashion flops. When people see an unflattering outfit people are bound to have their thoughts about it, but surely those thoughts are best kept private. It is true that there were a few eccentric outfits at the royal wedding and one or two really unfortunate ones. I guess it goes to show that money can not buy style, and whatever the designer label you should trust the evidence of your own eyes. I think it is cruel to write about individual fashion mishaps especially when the person concerned is very young, it says more about the bad taste of the author than the fashion victim. I wonder how they would feel if someone humiliated a member of their family in that way.


I was especially incensed about the way that fashion writers picked on one or two of the younger royals. Quentin Crisp once said "fashion is what you adopt when you don't know who you are". Some people don't want to conform to the latest fashion trends and try as they might some people will never have style. Surely what matters is whether or not they are pleasant, honest, well mannered, kind and good company. I would much rather be judged on the type of person I am than what I look like or what I wear. All the fuss that people have made about Samantha Cameron not wearing a hat and wearing 'high street heels' has made me really angry. I thought she looked lovely, very stylish without trying to upstage anyone. Her shoes looked just fine to me, so what if they were not 'designer'. If she chose not to spend an obscene amount of money on shoes just to impress others, that probably shows that she has good sense and good character! As for the foolish suggestions that going to Westminster Abbey hatless was disrespectful, I can only assume these people had not engaged their brains. Who was she allegedly disrespecting? It wasn't disrespectful to the queen, she meets hatless people all the time. It wasn't disrespectful to God, women go to church hatless all the time, I have never worn a hat to church in my life! Going to church is about belief and worship not fashion. Church is not about the building, it is about the people gathering together to worship, so what is appropriate for a tiny church gathering in a hut somewhere should also be appropriate for the grandest cathedral. 


So, before being too quick to criticise people for what they wear or how they look, people would do well to remember the words of Gabrielle "Coco" Chanel "Adornment is never anything except a reflection of the heart". 

Pancake Day!

The Tradition of The Shrove Tuesday Pancake Race at Olney

The pretty little English town of Olney in Buckinghamshire holds a pancake race each year on Shrove Tuesday. It is believed that the first race was held as long ago as 1445 so pancakes have been associated with Shrove Tuesday for a very long time.

Read the full story here http://trifter.com/europe/united-kingdom/the-tradition-of-the-shrove-tuesday-pancake-race-at-olney/