Every path hath a puddle - George Herbert

When I was thinking of a title for this blog post the quotation above seemed to to be a perfect fit, not least because this week began with a wet and miserable Monday. The cold wet morning came as quite a surprise after an unusually warm September and a surprisingly mild and sunny start to October. It was our ninth wedding anniversary on Saturday and we spent the weekend in Exeter. The choice of destination was a compromise, I had suggested a number of possible places to visit, but Robbie found fault with each one. At first I thought he was just being difficult but it didn't take me long to work out that Baldrick Burgess had a cunning plan to fit in a journey on an HST and he was going to veto every destination until I chose a place that suited his plan. I didn't mind too much, I'm not a fan of HSTs but it's not too much of a hardship and it gives Robbie a lot of pleasure. I didn't appreciate having to get up before the birds, but time together is precious and we were determined to enjoy the weekend to the full.

Robbie at our anniversary meal in Exeter

I like train journeys for many reasons, but perhaps more than anything else I value the thinking time and conversation. It is rare for either of us to sit still for so long with no demands on our time, and it is nice to be still and enjoy having time to chat. As it was our anniversary it is hardly surprising that we were in reflective mood. In a way marrying Robbie was an act of madness, we are a bit of an odd couple and I think a few of our friends doubted our sanity. For me the biggest commitment had been made a year earlier, exactly a year earlier in fact, in the first days of October ten years ago. Robbie and I had been together for just a few months when circumstances took a sudden and surprising turn. He rang me one morning in a state of great agitation, he had just been informed that he needed to take responsibility for his children on a full time basis starting that day. He had a one bedroom flat, which was large enough for his children to stay overnight with him once or twice a week, but it would have proved too cramped and ill equipped for a longer stay and it looked as if the children would be with him for several months. I didn't hesitate, the obvious solution was for them to come to me and so by that evening our three children each had become a blended family of six children. 

There were problems of course, but remarkably few, the children got on well and the Burgess children made the transition to a new school with little difficulty. Coping with six children was a very exhausting experience for me (and for Robbie) but I found it extremely rewarding. At the time my step children were 13, 9 and 5, each one was different but very like Robbie in their various ways. His son often asked to come with me in the car when I went to pick up my daughters from their music lessons or band practice. He was a gentle, thoughtful lad with a lovely nature; he loved to chat and like Robbie he was interested in a vast array of subjects. He shared my keen interest in history and like Robbie he had a passion for films and an eclectic taste in music. We had some fascinating conversations and he enjoyed listening to my music CDs. Robbie's older daughter was a clever and determined nine year old, who seemed older than her years. Like her older step sisters she enjoyed clothes and accessories and she had very firm opinions about what she should wear, in fact she had strong opinions about almost everything. She could be quite outspoken at times, and like Robbie tact wasn't her strong point - her disapproval when we were not having one of her favourite meals was expressed eloquently with just a look and a sigh. Even at age nine it was clear that she had the potential to do well in whatever she chose to do with her life. 

The five year old girl was like a miniature version of Robbie in every way, she looked even more like him than her brother (her sister is much more like her mum) and she had Robbie's ready smile and wicked sense of humour. There was a certain quirkiness about the little girl, she wasn't going to be like everyone else, even at five she had the confidence to be herself whether people liked it or not. I remember taking her to see my elderly aunt one day, my aunt had always enjoyed the company of children and it didn't surprise me that the two of them were soon engrossed in conversation. I popped into the kitchen to put the kettle on and I returned to hear the little girl ask my aunt why she used a walking stick. My aunt explained that she had a poorly hip and she needed the stick to keep her steady. The five year old gave her a thoughtful look and then she asked "couldn't you just try harder?". Clearly she had inherited Robbie's tendency to be a little too direct at times. She had also inherited his strong will and stubbornness, but I had a feeling that these would be a strength rather than a weakness. I already cared deeply about Robbie, and it didn't take long for me to become attached to these bright, lively children who were so like him in their different ways. The months that followed were exhausting and at times noisy and chaotic, but they were happy and all the children thrived. 

So by the following year when Robbie and I married we had already been through an eventful and at times challenging year. It was still a big decision to get married, but we knew that we were strong and that we could cope with the ups and downs of life. We were different in so many ways which made some people think that we were a very odd couple. Perhaps they were right, we’re unconventional certainly, but it works! It hasn't always been easy, we have encountered plenty of challenges over the years, but together we have coped and it has made us stronger. Our lives are still very busy, and Robbie often has to stay away from home on business, so we take time to have fun and to enjoy life whenever we can. We had a lovely trip to Exeter, we stayed in a very nice hotel just a stones throw from the station and it was mild enough for me to have the window open to listen to the sounds of the railway throughout our stay - perfect! 

As I was Going Up the Stair

Every time I go up and down stairs a little rhyme comes into my head.

As I was going up the stair
I met a man who wasn't there,
He wasn't there again today
I wish that man would go away

The reason for that particular rhyme is because Robbie has managed to make his presence felt even if he is not physically present. As most of his friends know he has passion for Dr Marten boots and he has far too many pairs (in my opinion). For a while they took over the bedroom until I banished them to the hall, but even in the hall they seemed to have a secret life and they would creep out and trip whoever passed by. Robbie decided that the stairs would be the ideal display / storage space for his boots. Ever since Christmas we have had a pair of Dr Martens on left hand side of each step (next to the wall) with just two empty steps at the bottom. Every time he goes up and down stairs he admires his boots and thinks about the how he will fill the last two empty spaces. He has his eye on a grey pair with a different sort of surface, they are dimpled, he likes them but I think they look like DMs with acne. I guess they are a lot better than the tartan pair that he lusts after. When I go up and down stairs I don't admire the boots, I just think what a pain it is to move them every time the stairs are hoovered and I make a mental note to make sure that he doesn't try to display his New Rock boots on the stairs, if I fell over those I could end up in hospital!

Mr Bump

Robbie had a disagreement with his feet yesterday evening, he walked from the kitchen into the hall armed with a very large carrot (he was on his way to feed the guinea pig) when he slipped and fell. He hurt himself quite badly because he scraped against the furniture before he hit the floor. He has a badly bruised hip and side but it was his dignity that suffered the hardest knock. He was furious about falling, according to him there must have been a shiny patch on the floor that made him slip - I guess that makes it my fault! Robbie thought I was very unemotional and uncaring about his fall, it wasn't because I didn't care it was because I was trying to suppress an attack of the giggles. I could cope with the ranting but when he told me that his fall had been broken by a carrot the urge to laugh was overwhelming! Poor Robbie!

To Tell the Truth ...................

Robbie fell over as he was getting off the train yesterday morning. He had only bought a new suit a few days ago and I am ashamed to say that when he told me about the fall I enquired about the suit before I asked about him. The suit survived unscathed but Robbie hurt his hand and his dignity was seriously affected; the platform proved surprisingly resilient. It could have been much worse, I do worry about him, I wish we could find a way to keep him upright.

Why are men such dreadful liars? OK I know that is a huge generalisation, but I am cross so please make allowances. Just for once I am not having a go at Network Rail, but come to think of it the same thing applies to them, if they want to mislead us, at least they could make the effort to do it convincingly instead of treating us all as if we are fools! I was actually getting at Robbie. He knows from bitter experience that I have a built in lie detector and it is not easy to pull the wool over my eyes, but it doesn't stop him trying! This week I caught him in out, there was no disputing the 'evidence', it had his fingerprints all over it, but he clung stubbornly to his version of the situation. Establishing the truth really is like pulling teeth. It makes me so cross that he assumes I a stupid enough to accept his version, as far as I am concerned the original 'misdemeanour' is never worth a lie, because most things can be put right or overcome. I wonder if it is a case of arrested development, you know that phase when a toddler learns to play hide and seek and they think that if they can't see you then you cant see them - they don't realise that their rear end is poking out from behind the sofa for all to see! I wonder if men ever progress beyond that stage - or maybe they just enjoy getting caught! I have found that admitting a mistake or omission, apologising and asking for help to put it right will get a much more favourable response than denial or trying to blame the others. Maybe Network Rail should give it a try sometime, we would all be shocked into stunned silence, so at least they would have a quiet few days! Just for the record, Robbie has been forgiven!

Robbie was on form last night in terms of random statements. We has just been shopping at Morrisons and he got into the car after parking the trolley and said "I will have to wash my high visibility vest before April". I expect he was thinking about trains and charters, but it made me laugh because it made me think of Harry Potter and the invisibility cloak. Robbie is high visibility all the time, vest or no vest!