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. 

Moving On

There has been a long silence on the blog, over a week of saying nothing I wasn't able to talk about something that was happening, hence the reason for my silence but at last I can speak again. Robbie made the difficult decision that after almost fifteen years it was time to leave the company that he works for and set his sights on pastures new. It has been a very big decision and it has occupied our thoughts for months, but it was very important to do things properly and I couldn't mention it on the blog until everything was agreed with his employer and his departure had been announced. He is still technically with the company for a few weeks longer, but he is now using up leave, his last working day was last Friday.

In the weeks leading up to his departure there were several important jobs to be done including emptying his cupboard and his desk. It sounds simple enough doesn't it, but this is Robbie that we are talking about! It took a huge amount of effort but thanks to the effort of two wonderful 'helpers' his cupboard was emptied - it is just as well that my Ford Galaxy has the rear seats removed because the contents of his cupboard filled the car. I thought that was the end of it but more bags and boxes followed as he emptied his desk - even a tardis couldn't hold that much 'stuff' so we now have a a lifetime of timetables that were taking up house room. It seems that he has several copies of every leaflet ever published by a train company, he also has the largest mug collection known to man and other sundry 'junk' that will fill at least 20 archive boxes!! By junk I mean old tickets, reservation slips and assorted stuff that 'normal' people would throw away. I have tried to be understanding but it is difficult, I feel as if I am drowning in clutter. I am ashamed to admit that you can't actually see our garage any more, the utility room has become a store room and all things railway related have invaded the bedroom!! Just occasionally I crave a a bit of 'normality'. When I told Robbie how I felt he told me that in 100 years time it will be an important historical archive. I wasn't as reassured by that as he expected, after all in 100 years (or even 50 years) I will not be around.

“One thing only I know, and that is that I know nothing.” – Socrates.

Being the parent of a teenager certainly keeps you 'real'. There was a time in my 20s and 30s when I thought  that I was reasonably intelligent with a fairly wide general knowledge. There was a time when my children were little that they looked up to me and trusted me to answer all their questions, but now they treat me as if I know nothing. My son is always keen to share his 'vast knowledge of life' accumulated over 17 years! To be fair he does have a wide general knowledge, but like most young people he only sees things in black and white, he will need to notch up a few more years before he starts to see shades of grey and then he will gradually realise how much he doesn't know. Until then he is content to tease me abort my astounding ignorance. I am not very good at sitting still and I have never been terribly interested in films and television and with one or two notable exceptions I have no interest whatsoever in sport so it is hardly surprising that I do not know the names of actors or sports personalities. Not so long ago my son decided to test me to find out exactly how challenged I am when it comes to knowing who does what. The whole family roared with laughter when I though that George Clooney could be a golfer, apparently he is an actor. I don't mind the teasing, after all if we did a similar test on history, poetry, literature or various other things I am fairly sure that I would know more than them!

Recently I encountered a woman who told me that she intended to return the game that she had bought for £32.99 the previous day because it was not fit for purpose. I asked what was wrong with it and she said that the questions were much to hard (the game was age 12 to adult). I must have looked a bit sceptical because she told me what some of the questions were.

- Who was Nebuchadnezzar

- What is an archipelago

- Who was Samuel Pepys

I was able to answer all the questions so she posed a few more which I also answered correctly. It was probably just luck that she chose questions that I was able to answer, but I was deeply offended when she told me that I only knew the answers because I am old! I thought (but didn't say) that old or not, I would not wish to publicise my ignorance by returning a game because it was too difficult! Maybe I am old, but I like to think that I could answer the questions because I have a wide general knowledge and I had a good education.

These little episodes along with the start of an annual recruitment phase at the company I work for has led me to realise that it takes all sorts to make a world - and it takes all sorts to make a good workforce. A group of people with different and complementary skills (and personalities) will make a stronger and more competent workforce. Only a fool appoints in his/her own image.

“Style is knowing who you are, what you want to say, and not giving a damn” - Orson Welles

My son persuaded me that he absolutely had to have new clothes ready for the start of term. He is in the final year of sixth form so he doesn't have to wear uniform and he doesn't seem to have grown since the end of last term but it seems that he can't possibly cope with the clothes that he already has. So one day last week I had the joy of a shopping trip to Topman and several of his other favourite shops.

He wanted a pair if chinos, really I would have liked to just give him the money and just send him shopping on his own, but he had asked me to go with him and it is unusual for him to want us to do things together, so it was important for me to go with him. Every pair of trousers that we looked at seemed to be designed for Stretch Armstrong. Wearing them would certainly be a shape changing (and probably life changing) experience! The legs were impossibly narrow but the bottom was loose so that they give the wearer a strange bow legged look as if they have lost their horse or have had an unfortunate accident. My son assured me that they are meant to look like that, and just to be sure that I got the message he told me that old people don't understand fashion! It is so nice to have teenagers around to make me feel good about myself!!

He chose a pair of 'Stretch Armstrong' trousers with turn ups in a contrasting colour - and he dares to say that Robbie's fashion sense is weird! He then spotted another pair of trousers on the sale rail, they were the same sort of style but without the contrasting turn ups. That was the sum total of our purchases from Topman, but we still had more to buy. He chose a pair of long shorts, a patterned jumper, a pack of socks including a green pair with ducks on and one or two other bits and bobs. He was very happy with his purchases and to be fair the clothes looked better on than off, but I can't help thinking that there was a lot of truth in the words of Oscar Wilde

"Fashion is a form of ugliness so intolerable that we have to alter it every six months" - Oscar Wilde

“Life is a frail moth flying caught in the web of the years that pass.” - Sara Teasdale

We live quite to a park and there is other open space nearby too, perhaps that is why we get so many moths in our house during the summer months. They come into the bathroom, maybe they are attracted to the light, but I read somewhere that they like a humid atmosphere so perhaps that explains why they choose the bathroom. 

I rather like moths, they have beautiful markings and they don't really do any harm in the bathroom. I love having the chance to take a close look at their markings when they settle on the wall, they really are very beautiful in a more subtle and understated way than butterflies. The problem is that our cat Oreo has appointed himself moth catcher in chief and during 'moth season' he lurks in the vicinity of the bathroom ready to pounce on any unsuspecting moth which is careless enough to stray within his reach! I feel very sorry for the moths.

Since we have been back from holiday it seems as if the moths have a death wish, I gave found corpses in the bath damp and dying moths around the sink and moths turning up their toes on the window ledge. I don't know what is going on. On Friday I found the corpse of what I thought was a grasshopper in the bath. On closer inspection I found that it was a speckled bush cricket. The question is, how did it get there? Speckled bush crickets are flightless, they can jump but our bathroom is upstairs and only the small top window was open, so how could it possibly have got into the bathroom?

'' I wrote my enemies names in the sand the sea washed them away, I wrote my friends names in the clouds and forever they will stay''

One of the nice things about being home again is having a reliable internet connection, and I spent part of Sunday morning uploading holiday photos to the blog. I love taking photos on the beach, it helps me to look at things differently and to notice the colours, shapes and patterns that the sea creates. The sea is at times wild and frightening and those things that are regularly battered by the sea are gradually smoothed and shaped. Perhaps life is a bit like that too!

  

The greatest gift is our own eyes, sense of smell, and abilities to deduce - Patricia Cornwell

I was dreading going home after our holiday, because I knew the house would be a mess, it was, but it was not as bad as it was last year. We had a nice surprise because my daughter had painted the bathroom and it looks very nice. When we opened the front door we were met by a very unpleasant smell and my first hour or so at home was taken up with trying to track it down. It wasn't animal related and it wasn't the bin, amazingly the bin bag in the kitchen was almost empty. I tracked the pong to the kitchen but I couldn't identify it, I checked for rotting vegetables, but there were none, I had a good sniff inside the fridge but the smell wasn't coming from there. 

In the end I had to leave it and get on with tidying the kitchen and doing the laundry. Then Robbie made me a cup of tea and I sat down in the lounge to drink it. I could smell an over-ripe banana in the fruit bowl and I took it out to the food recycling caddy and as I lifted the lid, the pong was revealed in all it's glory. The contents of the caddy which had morphed into a green hairy mass, had been there since before our holiday! When I had escorted the stinking mass to the outside food bin and disinfected the food caddy, the inquest began. My son was adamant that it was not on his list - a typically aspie response! My older daughter who has a poor sense of smell claimed not to have noticed it and her sister announced that she doesn't have anything to do with food recycling because it is gross. So, the combined intellect of two university graduates and an A Level student was not sufficient to cope with the 'complexities' of  emptying the food caddy. Next year I will leave the cat in charge!

Time To Go Home .........................

Saturday was a bright sunny morning, we didn't need to rush as we had until noon to pack up and leave the bungalow. Usually at the end of a holiday it feels rushed and chaotic but not this time, we were relaxed and organised and it didn't take too long to get everything packed in the car and to leave the place looking spotless. I had time to take one last look at the beach and to say a reluctant farewell to the sea. I have spent so many happy times there and some heartbreaking times too, it seems as if I have a very special connection to Walcott.

It must have been about 11am when we drove away from the bungalow. It was a scorching hot day, and I was looking forward to having brunch in Mundesley before heading home. The car park at Mundesley was filling up fast and there was a long queue for the pay and display machine, so while Robbie got the ticket I put the reflective sun screens across the front windows of the car so that the steering wheel wouldn't be 'too hot to handle' when we got back. 

We had a lovely meal and (in my case) a very good pot of tea at the Beach Cafe. It was a nice way to end our holiday. Afterwards we sat and looked out across the beach at everyone having fun and enjoying the sunshine. To be honest it was too hot for me, I don't cope very well with heat and there was no breeze. I decided that it was time to hit the road so that the air conditioning in the car could cool us down. Robbie thought it would be better for us to take the scenic route - which just happens to take us past the North Norfolk Railway! When we got to Holt he asked to spend some time at the railway, but I think we both knew that it was time to bid a fond farewell to Norfolk.
We had a good journey home and we stopped off at my mum's for a cup of tea before going home. Mum is still not feeling too well, but she is making progress.

A Sense of Perspective

Last Friday was the last day of our holiday. I didn't want the holiday to end, but I was determined that we would enjoy our last day. Robbie jumped at the chance of another visit to Wroxham Barns, so when we had done all the boring things like last minute shopping and filling the car with fuel we took a gentle drive to Wroxham. 

Robbie wanted to have a look around before going to Uncle Stuart's Brewery for a pint of Summer Ale. We looked at jigsaws, Robbie usually has a new one to take on holiday, but this year he couldn't make his mind up about what he wanted so when he sees one that 'floats his boat' we will buy it. He is rather tempted by a design called Grandad's Attic, but in the end he decided to have another think before buying it. There is method in his madness, if he puts it off for a week or two he knows that he will have a good reason to go to to one of his favourite shops Jeys of Earls Barton to look at jigsaws - and of course they have an amazing coffee shop! Anyway we had a good look around at all the shops and we bought one or two things. Then we went to sit in the sunshine while Robbie enjoyed a pint of Summer Ale and I had a cup of tea. I don't need to say that we had a lovely day, the picture of Robbie says more than words ever could!

We spent the afternoon and evening at the bungalow, enjoying the special atmosphere of the place and wishing that we didn't have to return to reality. In the evening I watched the bats circling around and then I stood by the back gate as it was getting dark and listened to the waves lapping on the beach it was like listening to the heartbeat of the earth. Far on the horizon I could see lights from distant ships sparkling like stars on the sea. I felt very small and insignificant standing there in the darkness but in some way it put the world and it's worries in perspective and reminded me of the things that really matter in life.

Magna Est Veritas

A Good Drying Day

When I woke up on Thursday morning I was surprised to find that it was already a beautiful sunny day, so I decided to strike while the iron was hot and get some washing out - it was dry in a couple of hours! To be honest I was feeling a bit anxious because today was A level results day and my son had to go and pick up his AS Level exam results. It seemed to take forever but eventually the phone rang and his sister informed me that he had got good grades. My son then came on the phone, for just long enough for me to congratulate him, then he handed me back to his sister, I don't think he has any idea how how much I worry about him at times!

I didn't really want to go anywhere today the garden and the beach are all we need and the weather is perfect, but the lure of the beach cafe drew us to Mundesley for a late lunch. The food was excellent and better still they have mastered the art of making a good cup of tea, in fact their pot of tea for one provided two full cups of tea and the milk jug contained plenty of milk. The beach was busy but the tide was out so there was plenty of room for everyone. I was tempted to go for a stroll on the beach at Mundesley, but in the end we decided to head back to our beach at Walcott instead. Robbie doesn't paddle, but I love it so we strolled along the beach with me splashing about in the shallows and him keeping a safe distance. This year I asserted my independence and bought a pair of Crocs, much to the disgust of my daughters. For years they have told me that it would be too embarrassing for words if I wore Crocs, but I decided that they will just have to come to terms with the embarrassment because I needed some comfortable and practical holiday footwear. They are the most comfortable shoes i have ever worn, so I think I will wear them at home too!!