My new Cloakroom

Lovely sociable day

I woke this morning with no real plans for the day.
The early morning was thick with fog as I enjoyed my morning walk through the fields with the dogs. By breakfast time the sun was out and feeling quite warm, first time in ages.

So I went out into the garden and started a bit of tidying and weeding, but it was still too damp to tackle the grass.
I thought I better give the Courtesy car a good clean as it will be going back very soon, now we've been paid out for the total loss of Bex vehicle, mind you , you might think why bother cleaning the car as Bex has wrapped it round a post and we have to pay the huge excess anyway, but I don't want to be clobbered with an additional valeting fee as well. So I dutifully hoovered and polished it.
Some of you will be thinking why isn't Bex doing this herself? My thoughts exactly, problem is, she is off sunning herself in Turkey and I think they will collect car Monday.

After that Lucy and I popped into our local city for a quick shop. I had to drop bex hair extensions into the hairdressers, they keep it there for when she next wants them. feels slightly seedy carrying someone elses hair in a plastic bag, but the hair salon didn't blink and eyelid and happily took the hair from me to a place of safe keeping!

The joy of text communications! Lucy hears that her new friend from school is alos in city and they arrange to meet in WHSmiths. I'd never met this girl before nor her mum but they live in our village, but had attended a different primary school.
We meet up and go for a coffee and have a great chat and getting to know each other time. Meanwhile Lucy and her friend go off to buy me a birthday present. Yes, it'll be my special day very soon.

Back home, I cut the grass, it is still damp and the sun is shining and I do the best I can. then walk the dogs again.

On my return i hear voices in the drive and see my hubby talking to some good friends of ours. They've just popped by to bring a pressie for Bex, belated birthday gift from their daughter. Bex's oldest best friend. This is wonderful. We have a cup of tea and a good long chat. So nice seeing friends. I like it when people just pop by unannounced, but they take us as they find us, usual mess on kitchen table. Quickly pushed to one side to make way for cups and plates!

Nearly time to prepare dinner but will just tell you I found out one of probable origins of "Raining cats and dogs" ( see yesterday):
is the prosaic fact that, in the filthy streets of 17th/18th century England, heavy rain would occasionally carry along dead animals and other debris. The animals didn't fall from the sky, but the sight of dead cats and dogs floating by in storms could well have caused the coining of this colourful phrase. Jonathan Swift described such an event in his satirical poem 'A Description of a City Shower', first published in the 1710 collection of the Tatler magazine. The poem was a denunciation of contemporary London society and its meaning has been much debated. While the poem is metaphorical and doesn't describe a specific flood, it seems that, in describing water-borne animal corpses, Swift was referring to an occurrence that his readers would have been well familiar with:

Now in contiguous Drops the Flood comes down,
Threat'ning with Deluge this devoted Town.
...
Now from all Parts the swelling Kennels flow,
And bear their Trophies with them as they go:
Filth of all Hues and Odours seem to tell
What Street they sail'd from, by their Sight and Smell.
They, as each Torrent drives, with rapid Force,
From Smithfield or St. Pulchre's shape their Course,
And in huge Confluent join'd at Snow-Hill Ridge,
Fall from the Conduit, prone to Holbourn-Bridge.
Sweeping from Butchers Stalls, Dung, Guts, and Blood,
Drown'd Puppies, stinking Sprats, all drench'd in Mud,
Dead Cats and Turnip-Tops come tumbling down the Flood.

So now you know!

Thunderbolt and lightning very very frightening

We've just had a massive thunder storm. It's been threatening it all day.
It started to rumble as I was out with the dogs, so I scurried along in order to get home before the rain started........Just made it, then the heavens opened and it was pelting down with rain. "Raining cats and dogs" I wonder where that term comes from. I must find out.

My cat was not impressed I had just let him out after sleeping indoors all day. He hates the dogs so has to be shut in one of the bedrooms. when my daughter came home from school she let him out, there's a terrible caffuffle as dogs realsie cat is on the move. I quickly took the dogs out and then Lucy let the cat out . Hence cat being out once thunder storm started. I could see him hiding under the garden table. None to impressed, but not keen to come back indoors!

It's eased off now and feels very chilly.
Won't be long before we'll need to light the log burner, can't afford to use the gas boiler, or so my hubby says ( I'll have it on when he's not here) Do you know he's made me turn the hot water off so I can't have a bath when i like, have to plan ahead or shower.Shower is fine in warm months but I love to bathe in the evening to warm up to go to bed. How will I cope? It's going to be a long cold winter with lots of hot water bottles I guess.........or maybe I should trade my old hubby in for a new model that is happier to be warm!!

The amazing black box widgit!

I've not written on my blog for months, due to being busy with work, life and chaos. BUT today I discovered the joys of the black box and I couldn't resist joining in and now I'm addicted.
Fortunately, I've a quiet day tomorrow so I'll be able to visit lots of blogs by black box. It sounds a bit like time travel and very Dr Who, don't you think!!

For the uninitiated all you need to do is click on the word "decide" in the black box, it will give you a series of options and you chose one of them by clicking on your choice. After a few you will have the chance to add your own choices and your blog address. Your reward is a visit to a mystery blog of someone who's answers coincided with your own (I think). So many choices, so many blogs to visit. Have fun travelling round.

Fruit Picking time

This time of the year always takes me back to my childhood and the long hot summers of child labour in the Strawberry picking fields of Norfolk.( They start working young there) I think I was about 8 the first time my best friend's mum took us fruit picking. I carried on doing it every summer till I was 16, then I could get a proper job! We did all kinds of picking, starting with strawberries, on to Goosberries and Raspberries and finished with Black currants, this would take us almost through the school holidays, usually finishing in time for family holiday at the end of August.

There were several big farms in the area and they all relied on casual labour to get their fruit picked. The biggest farm was an international employer, they had students from all over europe, they put them up in old converted chicken huts, fed and watered them and they would pick from dawn to dusk to make a few pounds to take back to their home countries. Very reminicent of the "Two Caravans" by Marina Lewycha, which I read recently. we only went to that farm when all the others were done.

We would make our sandwiches, I can still smell that awful sandwich spread stuff that looks like vomit, take a few biscuits and a bottle of pop and an old transistor radio. We'd jump on our bikes and ride off to the nearest picking field, could be up to 5 miles away. There was usually a group of women plus us few children.

On arrival at the Strawberry field we'd search out the boss man and ask if we could pick, usually this would be ok and we'd be found some rows to get started on. We'd take a handful of punnets , wrap plastic bags roundour knees and get down in the straw strewn rows. We'd pick and pick till we filled our punnets, usually the first day of the year we'd eat loads too, but to be honest after that the smell and thought of strawberries becomes repulsive so you don't need to eat anymore. If the strawberries were going for jam we'd have to tail them, but if they were going for sale to the public then the stalks are left on. It's harder to pick them taking stalk off as you end up squidging them!


The frustrating thing about being a child picker was they often put you on a row that had already been picked recently, so there are fewer strawberries and you are scuttling up the row on your knees. I'd get home and my knees would be red and sore! We'd always have a radio on and listen to Radio One as we picked, though one year at the International Place I left my tranny in the bush and went to get my fruit weighed when i came back someone had pinched it, I never got it back.

Money wasn't good, but when you were young any money was beter than no money. Some of the women were amazingly fast pickers and they'd earn a fortune. I'd make a £1 or £2 if I was lucky! In later years on a good day I could make about £5-£10 depending on crop. I kept all thr totals in a ledger, I still have it somewhere, I must get it out and have a look!

As a teenager Fashion was all important and impressing the boys a must! Mid 1970's halter necks were very in, so I remember going fruit picking in my old jeans, wearing a black halter neck top and a red and white spotted scarf, thinking I looked "the business"!

One year I had a huge crush on my friend's brother. He didn't usually come picking but this year he did and for whatever reason, I cannot remember my friend wasn't able to come so me and Paul went together. We biked there together, we shared a row together, we had our lunch together. I felt so sick with fancying him, I couldn't eat a thing! I nearly swooned when our hands touched through the black current bush!

The next day my friend was back and she could see there was "something going on" between the 2 of us and she was understandably annoyed. For a few days I was totally besotted with Paul, but then he stopped coming, slowly the sicky feeling subsided and I started eating again, I got over him and moved on!

Fruit picking fields and Love seemed to go hand in hand. I remember my other friend's eldest sister used to come , she never did much picking as her motorbike boyfriend used to come too and they just find a quiet place in the field to make out! Till the boss came along and shouted at them to get back to work!

The sun always shone every summer I'm sure of it. I guess if it was raining we just didn't go. But it did always seem to be hot and I'd burn myself specially wearing my halter neck tops!!

One summer '76, was extrememly hot, but then '77 was loads of thunderstorms, so we'd go picking but end up having to shelter as the rain pelted down. I must admit by '77 I was finding it all rather a bore and was desperate to get a proper job, so that year, we did skive off , just me and my friend Sally, we'd go off on our bikes and go to the beach or visit churches, we liked churches, we'd go round the grave yards reading the headstones. didn't earn much that summer. But I didn't have a great need either, two years earlier I'd worked really hard to save money to buy my pony a new saddle but on 31 December 76 he died and my life as I knew came to an end.

But as my uncle said at the time " You'll have more time for boys now" and of course he was right, but it didn't take the pain away.

My garden in June

Here are a few photos of plants flowering this month:

What kind of a proposal was that?

How I met my other half Part 2 The Proposal.

So you've heard about how Stan and I met. When I moved to Surrey and became JK's bridesmaid and Stan was PT's Best man. Our first date was to a pub in Richmond and then the next day I was taken to meet his mother as it was her birthday. They seemed to like me. Soon Stan and I were seeing each other regularly, I'd spend time at his house in Reigate and he'd come to Richmond and stay with me. We'd both visit PT & JT every Sunday evening for a drink as Stan had always done. Because they were now married PT was determined that Stan should get married too, so on New Years Eve of that same year after their wedding, we were all at a party celebrating the New Year, when suddenly PT leaned across to Stan and said " Have you asked her to marry you yet?" To which he replied "No, not yet" and PT said "Well are you going to?" and Stan said "Er, yes, I s'ppose so", then PT learnt over to me and said "Stan 's got something to say......" to which Stan shifted slightly in his seat, he was rather drunk and leant over to me and said " Er Well Will you marry me?". I was to say the least dumbfounded, but rather stupidly , as I should have given it a lot of thought said "Yes".


PT jumps up and shouts to the bar man, "These 2 have just got engaged!!", The Bar man hurried over with a bottle of Champagne, Then they started playing some music and wanted us to dance, and join in with some game.Suddenly Stan was gone.........................................................

You would have thought he could stay to celebrate his own engagement but no, it was all too much, he drove off into the night and didn't come back for several hours.


I was beside myself with worry, he'd been drinking and could have had an accident. But he did eventually come back and I wondered if it had all been a dreadful mistake. He wasn't ready to propose, he only did it because of PT. But in the cold light of day we talked it through and agreed it was what we both wanted. We married 13 months later, tried for Valentines day but had to make do with 21 February! It was a very small wedding because Stan couldn't face a big do with lots of people looking at him, so closest family and PT & JT that was all.

It wasn't all plain sailing as we had to endure one of Stan's ex's constant bombardment of telephone calls day and night, usually when she was drunk, begging Stan to go and see her. This went on for several years. Even when we moved house she found us, thanks to the lodgers in our old house telling her the new number.
Sometimes he'd talk to her , sometimes he'd not, I used to get so cross.

But I had my own issues still as I was still very attached to Sam, (See much earlier blogs) and couldn't get him out of my mind and really felt I had been wrong to get married so quickly. But Sam was 500 miles away in Scotland and my life was here. So I just had to get on with it.

After we'd been married 6 months I decided I wanted a baby. Stan didn't. However, I got pregnant and Emma was born on June 21 1987, so she is 21 this weekend. I endured Stan's annoyance throughout the pregnancy. He felt we'd never be able to go to the pub again and I was ruining his life. Turned out we were in the pub as I went into labour and we were back in the pub 5 dayslater with baby Emma. It took a while but Stan got to love having children, so much so that he wanted to go on to have number
4, I said no more after number 3. Couldn't face another stint of post natal depression.

So here we are 22 years married and about to celebrate our eldest's 21st and middle daughter's 18th on 21st and 22 June! How about that?

How I met my other half

As seen in the forum of Purplecoo:
The quick and easy answer is “At a wedding” but that doesn’t explain how I happened to be at that particular wedding. To explain that I need to take you back to 1972.

Thelwell

In 1972 I was a pony mad 12 year old living in Norfolk. My whole life revolved around my friend’s stables, every weekend and straight after school I could be found cleaning tack, mucking out, grooming in order to get a ride of my favourite pony, Trigger. He eventually became mine but that is another story.

My other joy was writing letters and receiving letters so I had numerous penpals scattered all over the world. But I was keen to have a pen pal who shared my interest in horses. I regularly read a Pony Magazine which had a Penpal section each month. So I wrote to a girl in Surrey. She wrote back explaining that she had had lots of responses and her twin sister would like to write to me. Her sister was JK, she lived in Epsom Downs in Surrey.

For many happy years we communicated by post sharing our joy of horses ad other animals. Then when we were 16 , JK announced that she was in love with a man called PT, she left her home and went to live with him. Being rather innocent I was shocked and stopped writing to her.

Fast forward to 1984. I am just completing my Social Work training. I’m up in Leeds. I need to find work. My thought is to try and get back to Norfolk, but there are no vacancies in my chosen field of Learning Disability, so I have to look elsewhere in the country.

I spot an advert for a Community Care Post in Esher, Surrey. It sounds perfect. So I apply. I am offered an interview, my first ever proper interview, so my mum and I travel down to Surrey. The interview goes well, there were only 2 candidates, but I’m convinced they will offer it to the other young man. We all had lunch together and he was much more outgoing. However, later that night I receive a call from the Director offering ME the job. I was over the moon. My first interview gained me my first proper job!!

Then the panic set in, I knew nothing about surrey, I knew no one in Surrey. Why was I going to a place where I’d be totally alone? I should try for a job where I knew people. But then I thought of JK, it’d been several years since our last contact but I still had her parents address. I wrote to her. Within a week I had a reply from JK herself. She was still living in Epsom , in her own flat now, but still going out with PT and they were getting married in September. She was delighted to hear from me and told me to ring her as soon as I arrived in Surrey and we would meet up. I’d never met her before, but I’d had several photos over the years.

August 1984 My parents helped me move from Leeds down to Surrey. The Council provided me with a little old house in Ham near Richmond Park. Then I was on my own.
Ham House NT

I rang JK and she asked me to come over on Saturday for evening, which I did. We got on like a house on fire, then I met PT too and he was so lovely and funny, I could see why she loved him. I stayed over and the next day we went to Camber Sands, it was a hot, hot, day and I got sunburnt. Back in Epsom PT cooked us a Roast and then his friend Stan turned up to go for a drink with PT. I didn’t take much notice of him to start with, but I needed his assistance quite soon afterwards.

Stan did car repairs and shortly after arriving in Surrey I had a minor collision damaging my front bumper. PT told me that Stan could repair it for me. PT and Stan were best friends. Stan was to be PT’s Best Man at their wedding which was only a few weeks away.

JK and I were by now firm friends and she suddenly asked me if I’d be her bridesmaid, one of her so called friends had suddenly dropped out and she was stuck. So I agreed.
It was all a bit of a rush because I was being bridesmaid to another friend the week before in Norfolk. But I managed to get to the rehearsal taking my boyfriend from Leeds with me, who’d come down to see me to celebrate my birthday. I’d already decided there was no point in continuing the relationship. His life was in Leeds and that was another lifetime. After the rehearsal we all went for a drink I found myself chatting to Stan thinking what a witty, chatty person he was.

At the wedding itself I spent most f the day with Stan and another his friend’s AK, who I must admit was gorgeous, but out of my league. At the wedding I met Stan’s parents, his dad danced with me. Stan attempted to dance with me too, but was rather the worse for wear for drink, but as we were leaving he asked if he could take me out the following week. I agreed and gave him my number.

I think it was only Monday evening when the phone rang, it was Stan asking me out for a drink Saturday evening. Saturday evening arrived and Stan turned up in his old blue escort van and we went into Richmond. He spent to evening telling me all sorts of funny stories and I was smitten. There ensued the beginnings of our courtship. So that was how I met my other half.

I received the weirdest of proposals, if you could call it a proposal, but that is another story and I’ve already written far too much! So I’ll save that story for another day.

Though, isn’t Fate strange? A chance response to a Pen pal advert lead to the most important relationship in my life.

One of those special moments

I have just come back from running one of my residential short breaks for families that I work with in Sussex. Lampworkbeader knows where I've been as it's close to her. It's the most amazing big old house with wonderful facilities for children and adults to relax and play safely. On this occasion the majority of children all had some form of Autistic Spectrum disorders,mostly on the high functioning end, Aspergers types. You might think this would be a recipe for disaster but it was amazing how well the boys interacted and seemed to understand one another and give space to each other when they were getting frustrated and upset.

The weather was perfect so the play leader was able to take the children on the boating pond and on the zip wire. One young lad had never been on a boat before and by the end of the afternoon he was paddling around in the kayake with great expertise!

It was quite hard work for my colleague and I because basically we had to produce three meals each day for 22 people and keep everything running smoothly, so not much time for sitting and relaxing for us. But we did have the help of a couple of very kind volunteers to help with the main meal each day.

Saturday evening we had a BBQ, we roped the men in to help with the cooking, it's funny isn't it how men love to BBQ but don't normally involve themselves in kitchen activities otherwise!

Now some of the boys had found the spot in the garden where camp fires could be lit and one boy was determined we should have a camp fire. So it was agreed that once it got darker we would light the fire, we sent the boys out to collect wood and twigs, which they did with great jubilation. Soon we had a huge pile of logs and twigs and got the fire lit. To start with it was just my colleagues and some of the boys enjoying the fire but as the evening drew on more adults came to join us and one Dad had his guitar, he sat next to me and started playing. He was very good, he could play by air many of my favourite songs from the 60's,70's and 80's as well as some we sing in church. So as he got into his playing I started singing quietly, neither of us were very good at remembering words, but we muddled through.I'd had afew glasses of wine so pretty relaxed and just enjoying reliving some of my youth through songs. He asked me to suggest something I knew , I suggested one of my favourites "Will you " by Hazel O'conner, he asked me to sing it, so there I am singing to him " You drink your coffeee and I sip my tea, and we're sitting here, playing so cool, thinking what will be will be......", but he doesn't know it,but wishes he does and suggests something else We start on Beatles songs and after a while I realised the others had stopped talking and were listening to us, so i encouraged them to join in, we had a good go at The Streets of London, Hey Jude, Yellow Submarine and a Snow Patrol one. It was one of those warm fuzzy moments when you just want the moment to go on forever. Those moments don't come very often these days, but it is one that I will treasure in my memory for ever.

There is something about that closeness, that connection, of being played to and singing with that really moved me. You could feel the electricity in the air.

It brought back a delightful memory of when I was 18 and going off to Switzerland to see my cousin and work for 2 months. I had to catch a train from Norwich at 11.30pm to Liverpool St Station and then cross London to get to Gatwick, all over night.My parents carefully put me in a carriage with another woman, but she got out at Ipswich and a young man got in. We got talking, he was going to Bournmouth to be a Life Guard on the beach for the summer, but he was also a singer in a local band and after a while he started to sing to me, all sorts of songs from the 60's mostly, he did know all the words! He sang so beautifully and it was so moving to be serenanded like that. When we reached London, he wouldn't leave me on my own and agreed to wait with me with me until the underground opened at 5.30am, so there we sat in Liverpool Street station with him singing quietly to me all these wonderful old songs. Once the Underground opened, we hugged and kissed Goodbye and went our separate ways, never to meet again.It was so romantic and a real warm fuzzy moment that I've never ever forgotten or been able to match until this weekend.
Just one moment in time.

Would anyone else like to share one of their own warm and fuzzy moments with us?

A memory of a house

I am sitting in my parents house in Norfolk, the house of my childhood. I am feeling quite nostalgic. I think I must be very fortunate to still have both my parents and that they have never moved house. The house has been in my dad’s family for 3 generations. It started life as 2 small farm workers cottages. My great grandfather, Tom, the local postman lived in one side and his son George, my granddad, a farm worker, lived in the other side with his 2 son’s George, my late Uncle and John, my Dad. My grandmother died when my dad was 10. She had breast cancer. I never knew her, but was told she had auburn hair. I remember my granddad being very pleased when he could see my hair was showing a lot of red when I was in my early teens. I didn’t have the heart to tell him it came out of a bottle. But I have carried on dyeing my hair in various shades of red in her memory for the majority of my life. It is particularly red at present as I have resorted to henna as less abrasive.

When my great grandfather died he left his half of the house to my Dad, who was already engaged to my mum. So when they married in 1958 they moved straight in. They celebrated their Golden Wedding in March this year. We had a wonderful luncheon at a local hotel, presided over by Agatha Christie! Agatha had been a visitor to the hotel when it was a private house and now her portrait hangs in the dining hall. Luckily no murders took place whilst we were there!

Mum soon placed her mark on the property. She was a teacher of needlework and soon had her sewing machine out making curtains and covers. The original cottage was small, the front porch lead straight into the living room, to the left was a small kitchen with a walk in larder. At the corner of the living room was a small latched door, which lead to the crooked staircase. As a child I had many recurring dreams of falling down those stairs but never reaching the bottom, I’d wake with a bump though and be hot and sweating.
Upstairs there was my parents bedroom which you had to walk through to get to my bedroom, a tiny cosy room. We were fortunate my dad was a plumber so we had a bathroom in the other small room. My grandad’s cottage next door was almost identical, but he didn’t get a bathroom until 1970. He used the privy in the garden and had a tin bath. We had a privy at the bottom of our garden too, we kept it in use until about 1969 because my Nan on my Mum’s side was severely arthritic and couldn’t climb the stairs to use the bathroom when she came to stay. In 1969 my dad built a huge extension to the cottage, making 2 new bedrooms, a lounge, cloakroom and hallway. It felt very grand.

Shortly after this my nan came to live with us as she could no longer cope alone and needed to be cared for. She had to sleep in our dining room, because she couldn’t get upstairs. She smelt. Life was quite strained for mum and dad. Mum was having to look after nan in the house and granddad next door. As a child though I loved having my nan because she loved to read to me, dad would take her chair into the lounge and we’d help her walk with her frame through to sit in the lounge. We’d watch television together. She loved Songs of praise , but couldn’t understand my love of Top of the Pops. Every week she’d make the same comments about the singers with long hair. “That’s a girl!” “No Nan, that’s a man!” she never believed me!

Christmas was always special. The chimney was in the dining room and even before nan came to live permanently she would always stay at Christmas and we’d do the sprouts together and she’d promise to watch out for Father Christmas for me. On Christmas morning my sister and I would come down all excited and nan would confirm that she’d seen Father Christmas and told him we’d been good , so there’d be a huge pile of wonderful presents by the foot of the Christmas tree. It was so magical. We’d go to bed on Christmas Eve with a bare tree and come down Christmas morning to a sparkling tree full of lights and baubles. I though Father Christmas decorated the tree as well as bringing presents for many years!

My grandad’s house next door remained stuck in the 1930’s, he eventually conseded to allow dad to put a bathroom in but the rest of the house was like a museum. His kitchen was the most basic, just a Belfast sink and one electric ring. He didn’t have a fridge, just an old meat safe. Though he didn’t prepare much food , mum used to do food for him.
He spent his days on the allotment garden that he owned down the road, he grew the most wonderful vegetables. He couldn’t walk very fast as he’d been injured in a farm accident years back and had one leg shorter than the other.
Grandad had serious anemia, he was on tablets but every day he’d have a glass of Guiness. When I was young I’d go round to his after lunch and he’d have his radio on and we’d listen to “Listen with mother”, Grandad would pour out his Guiness and give a small glass to me. I felt very grown up. Didn’t like it very much but I’d drink it any way like medicine. It was certainly better han theCod liver oil my Mum gave me in the mornings!
Grandad had a piano. I was having piano lessons from the age of 9 and so I had to go into grandad’s to practise, I hated it. I wasn’t very good and granddad would make remarks. So I’d not want to go and practise , consequently I never got very good and gave up by the time I was 13.
One of my grandad’s favourite sayings was “Come in if your nose is clean!”, he’d shout this out whenever we knocked on the door to see him. Never really understood it, but he thought it was funny!
Grandad was a very generous man. Every Tuesday he’d go to Stalham Sale and every Thursday to North Walsham for the Market. We only had buses on those days. He would always buy us sweets. Trouble was he bought ¼ of boiled sweets and after a while we’d get bored of these and they’d stay in packet getting sticky and then another packet would come. In the school holidays he would take me with him, so I would chose the sweets and for a while I’d get the ones I liked. Sherbert Lemons or Bon Bons were my favourite, then he’d forget and we’d go back to boiled fruit sweets. At Christmas granddad always gave us huge numbers of presents , he would start buying little gifts on each trip to market from about august and he’d wrap them all up ready for Christmas Day. I was such a lucky child to get so many presents, it wasn’t until he died I realised how many presents he gave us. Christmas was never quite the same. I missed my Rupert annuals especially!

When Grandad died my dad inherited his cottage next door. Being a builder as well as a plumber he was able to knock through and modernise the old into the new and has created a wonderful warm and cosy house which I still call “home”.

My Garden in May

Last month I posted some photos of what flowers were blooming in April, I've just gone round to see what is out now and taken a few more photos.
Mine is a Woodland Garden and so Rhododendrons and Azaleas flourish in the acidic soil. I had feared that the Wisteria had been frost damaged as it was very late getting any flowers but there are somethough not as many as some years.





Also a beautiful clump of Irises and poppies in abundance.




A few roses are coming out and clematises at differing stages. There is so much colour, such a joyful time in the garden. The bright yellow of the Laburnum tree is stunning.

I was very disappointed to see that my Bramley apple tree has died , it was only 4 years old, I think rabbits have damaged it, I thought I'd protected it but may have been too late. The other fruit trees are doing well though, the Gala Apple ,the Pear and Plum tree look strong and healthy.

I'm not a good gardener, plants have to take their chances......survive or not survive. But I still love to see the beauty of nature ...no thanks to me!

We went down to the woods today

Hatchlands House

Surrey and Sussex purplecooers, Blossom, Faith and I met up at a National Trust Property in Surrey called Hatchlands.
It was a beautiful sunny, hot day.

I arrived a little early but it wasn't long before I spotted Faith's car drive into the car park.

Faith and I walked to the entrance and soon we saw someone with a pony tail getting out of her car, we thought that must be Blossom, she spotted us and came over. Brief introductions and soon we were all chatting away as if we'd been friends for a long time. Funny how the virtual world and real world merge and collide.

We set off across the park towards the Bluebell wood, the man at the entrance told us the Bluebells were past their best but still worth a visit.

Both Faith and Blossom have far superior cameras to me so i'm sure their photos will be much clearer.
But we found the Bluebells and they carpetted the woods in a glorious hue of blue, it is difficult to show the beauty in a photo but I'll try.






Through the bluebell wood we headed out on the Long Walk, I had the map, i thought that route took us back to the house quite quickly but after walking for half an hour Faith and Blossom met another couple who informed them we were still over half an hour away from house. Ekk! I had been reading the map the wrong way up! Hopeless or what. Sorry Head mistress but you won't be wanting me to lead the Orienteering group this year will you?? We were passed the point of no return, so had to carry on!
Mind you glad we did , we found an interesting fairy ring of mushrooms and some wood carvings of Toadstools , a Throne and an interesting tree trunk!




We eventually arrived back at the house with aching and hungry but fully energised from our enjoyable walk.
We shared a pleasant lunch in the restaurant court yard but service was rather slow which marred the occasion.


All in all a lovely day. Thanks to Faith and Blossom for coming and making it such a pleasure.

It's not the winning...............

But the taking part!

Bex was not placed at The Final of Miss West Sussex, but she thoroughly enjoyed the experience and she met lots of lovely young women. But her very good friend Alex came second overall and we were highly delighted, she certainly deserved it!

We arrived at Fontwell Park racecourse at 1.30pm, it was a hive of activity. People running this way and that, sound checks on stage, "One , Two, One Two", the men looked up and shouted approval as Bex and Alex walked passed then to their marquee.

In the marquee girls were already sitting at tables discussing hair and make up.
We confirmed our arrival and the process began.
First discuss how they'd like hair and make up, what colour outfits were to be worn, did they have their own foundation, did they want false eye lashes and so on and so on.

I had to rush off to do the school run so left bex with her boyfriend, he loves the horse racing so was pleased to have a Premier pass to get into the grandstand, so he wandered off to have a look whilst the girls were preparing!

Collected Lucy, managed to get stan home early and then we all set off back for Fontwell, by now every thing was in full swing, horses every where, people flocking through the gates.

Then I spotted her.....Jilly Cooper...... she was just coming across the grass to take her place on the stage as one of the judges. I just adore her and have read all her books, have been a huge fan for years but now I could see her in real life and she looked fantastic. Later on I was standing beside her as we watched the races, she was with Honeysuckle Weeks, the actress from Foyles war, people were going up to Jilly asking for autographs and having their photo taken with her. I wanted to, but I held back, and didn't feel I could voist myself on her, it seemed an imposition, so i just stood near and watched.


The Racing began , the Beauty Pageant was interspersed between each race, so here was lots of tooing and frooing, from race course to Stage area to watch the Girls on stage.
The first Round was an eco friendly round, when the girls wore things that were recycled or second hand or Fair Traid


Becky wore an outfit that had been made by her sister some years ago. So second hand.



There were allsorts of interersting and unusual outfits!

The next round was "A Day at the Races". I managed to find a big formal hat on ebay, and Bex looked very much the part!



The final round was the Evening gowns, all gilrs were asked to change into their evening wear but whilst still in the marquee the Final Five were announced and those not in the final were taken for a photo with the compere and then were allowed to get changed again whilst the Final Five went on stage for the winners to be announced.




And there were winners and losers on the race course too, Bex current boyfriend made a profit of £120! and her old boyfriend lost £300!!

We all retired home exhausted but happy. It had been a long day but a lot of fun.

A walk in the Bluebells

(I'm the one on the right)

The Saturday before last was the most glorious day. Probably the warmest day we'd had this year. This was just too good to be true because it was the day I had invited my old colleagues to over for lunch and to go for a Bluebell Walk. It rained right up to Friday and it rained again on Sunday and much of the rest of the week, but Saturday was fine. I couldn't beleive my luck.

I made lots of Parsnip and Carrot with Cumin soup, using orange carrots not purple ones!!! I also did a batch of Tomato and Harissa soup. My friends brought lots of yummy puddings and nibbles.

I had half expected to have to be sitting in doors huddled around the log fire, but No, we were able to sit out doors all afternoon, in Tee shirts and wearing sun glasses!!

The food all went down well and then we set off on our walk. Out through my Bluebell wood across the fields to another bigger Bluebell wood, where we were met with swathes of nodding Bluebells. It always gives me such a feeling of joy and peace to see these beautiful flowers.










The Bluebells were looking stunning, a beautiful carpet of blue hue spreadthrough the woods.

After the walk we returned for more Tea and lots of naughty cakes.
A wonderful afternoon spent with special friends.

Out with the old and in with the new, well almost!

Last Thursday was a momentous occasion. The delivery of my new leather sofas.
I'd been waiting for 3 months since i ordered them at the beginning of January. They warned me it would take 12 weeks and it was 12 weeks and 4 days until they arrived!

Some of you may remember that I had discussed wanting new sofas last summer after we were flooded. The old ones were not damaged in the flood but were getting on a bit, i think we'd had them since 1995, which may not seem like a long time to some people (certainly not to hubby Stan) , but it felt like a long time to me . They old sofas were never that comfortable , the cushions slipped off and you'd find yourself sitting in a hole.

I have had to endure constant ridicule from stan ever since i ordered the new sofas, he really doesn't see the point at all.

Let me show you his chair. His chair was new about 1981, it is a leather recliner. It used to look very smart now it is ripped and worn. BUT he will not let me replace it


I cover it with a throw to make it reasonably acceptable. Don't get me wrong it is a very comfortable chair, every one want to sit in it, BUT it looks dreadful.

Back in the old days when we lived in Reigate and had lodgers, there was always a fight to get to sit in THE CHAIR. It was Stan's chair and wobetide anyone else who sat in it, if they didn't get up as soon as he wanted to sit down. One lodger, our dear friedn K, who we still see and laugh over this with,used to dare to stay put and challenge Stan. Brave woman! But she did go to the pub with him so he put up with it!

Now the positioning of the chair is crucial. It has to be exactly opposite the television, not at an angle ,in a true straight line of vision to the Television. Wherever we have lived Stan's cahir and the TV have to be placed first and then other furniture placed around them! Which means my view of the TV is often marred as not in direct line!

In the run up to the delivery of my new sofas, I had to think about disposal of my old ones. I contacted our local Recycling centre and asked if they would like the sofas, i told them they were a bit worn, but fulfilled all the fire regs etc. They agreed that they would like the sofas and a day was set for collection.
They came a day early and i was in Somerset so Bex had to deal with them, the dogs had pulled the cushions off and so they looked floppy. The man told Bex that the sofas were too worn. MY SOFAS WERE TOO WORN TO GIVE TO ANYONE ELSE!! ANd Stan had told me they were fine and I didn't need new ones! I felt vindicated! Though a little miffed.

Luckily a friend with a van was able to take them to the local dump.

The day of the delivery arrived. I was very excited, but also quite nervous, supposing after 3 months they arrived and I didn't like them! Supposing they don't fit in the room. Panic set in.

The delivery arrived. The sofas, only 2 Two Seater and a pouffe , were huge compared to how they looked in the shop. But the men got them in, put the feet on and placed them where I asked. They looked beauitful. I was so pleased. Here they are:



They are so comfy and the cushions don't collapse when you sit on them.


Stan tried to ignore them, but rather difficult when they take up the whole room and grudgingly he admitted they were rather nice!

But he will keep his chair as long as he lives or until it collapses!!

Anyone else have a piece of furniture they are so attched to?