New Year

Well here we are at the end of another year.  After two weeks of celebrating and feasting it is back to old clothes and porridge.  It has been quite a good year for me with many pleasant highlights.  The wonderful 90th birthday Amanda organised with the opportunity to see my friends and family  I shall treasure among my memories.
We are still having wild weather.  We were fortunate not to suffer damage  to the house but did have one sad loss.  Our beautiful tall elegant eucalyptus tree was blown over and had to be cut down.  After a worrying few days when it leaned dangerously over a wall it has been cut down.  Strangely enough we had a friend staying with us who used to be a tree surgeon and he and the tree surgeon we called in decided its fate.
I look forward to the next year.  I hope for some nice surprises as I had this year to leaven the less pleasant ones that are no doubt in store.  Bits of my body keep wearing out but I must try not to grumble.  Nobody likes a moaner.
A Happy New Year to you all.
Jay May.

Christmas 2013

Happy Christmas all you Hatters!  This has been a busy household since December 17th when Amanda started our Christmas entertaining by cooking lunch for my Seaford friends.  There has been a continuous stream of people to feed and baking to be done.  Yesterday and throughout this week the house will be buzzing with activity.
We are so lucky so far not to be affected by the dreadful weather.  The only casualty so far is our beautiful tall eucalyptus tree which is leaning at a precarious angle and will have to be cut down.
I feel very sorry for those people who have no electricity or are facing floods or have their travel plans dashed.
On Sunday we went to a beautiful  service of nine lessons and carols.  It was a peaceful time to think of other things than the bustle of shopping and getting - atime to think of those less fortunate than ourselves and to remember those of our friends for whom Christmas will be a less happy time because of illness or loss of a love one.
Thank you all for staying with me.  Will try to be more regular and interesting in the New Year.
Best Wishes    
Jay May.

Mind the Gap

Apologies.  I am finding it difficult to read my computer.  Letters are missing and the lines wave up and down.   This macular degeneration is a very peculiar condition and reading and writing are very tiring on these poor old eyes.  I am still getting occasional hallucinations.  When travelling by car I frequently see a double decker bus or a horse and cart which isn't really there.  A good job I no longer drive! I manage now to ignore these things and concentrate on something else.  So I shall press on with my occasional blogs.   I'm afraid my usual Christmas letters will not get written so I hope I will be forgiven.  I have managed to write to two of my friends who have so sadly lost their husbands this year.  A sad Christmas for some people.
It is time to think seriously about Christmas preparations so I shall get on with sending my cards.  I love receiving them.  Another trip to the Eye Hospital this afternoon.

Another Choir

The report of Nelson Mandela's death reminded me of a visit of a party of Mothers Union members from South Africa in 1990.  Because of the proximity of our church to Canterbury Cathedral we M.U. members were often called upon to act as hosts to religious groups visiting Canterbury.

On this occasion about 20 ladies were making an extended tour of Europe and Israel.  The tour was led by a clergyman and two white South African ladies.  They had already been to Jerusalem, Bethlehem and the Sea of  Galilee.  They then flew to Bavaria to go to a performance of the Passion Play at Oberammergau which is performed by the local people every 10 years.  They arrived at our church by coach, having been guests for a few days of M.U. members in Hertfordshire.  I was told to walk with them to the Cathedral for a service.  I was also told not to let them get a sniff of Marks and Spencers or they would not get to the Cathedral in time for Evensong.  All went well and their voices added to the lovely singing of the Cathedral choir.  Back at our church hall for refreshments and chat about our  very different lives and families and how our faith had brought us together.  Before they joined the coach they said thank you by singing two hymns.  I shall always remember these lovely friendly ladies in their beautiful coloured costumes. Their voices blended so beautifully as they sang harmoniously just for us.

The Choir

Watching the lovely Gareth Malone and his results in forming a choir I was reminded of my own efforts when I was running the local Girl Guide Company.  One of my Guides had attained Her Queen's Guide Badge, a rare event so we decided to have a Parents Evening and put on some entertainment.  We had already learnt two country dances and we would follow this with some folk songs.  But first we had to form a choir.  All the girls were used to singing at school and were keen to take part.  All was going as merry as a wedding bell except for one snag.  Sally , a small enthusiastic girl in the front row sang very, very loud and very, very flat.  What to do?  I didn't want to hurt her feelings so diplomacy had to come into play.  I had a brainwave.  I would make her the conductor!  I explained to her that she didn't have to sing, just keep time and make sure everybody started and ended together.   Rehearsals went well after that.  Two weeks before the Parents Evening a new Girl Guide arrived and joined the choir.  She sang very, very loud and very, very flat!

My English daughter-in-law came to stay with me at the beginning of this month to keep me company while my family had a break in the Lake District.  It was very kind of her as her own parents have health problems and she needs to spend time with them.  The weather was fine and mild while she was here so she was able to go for long walks.  I had told her about a book I had listened to by Margaret Powell who wrote about her years in domestic service in the twenties and thirties.  I remember hearing her on the radio in "Woman's Hour".  She tells of growing up in Hove.  On one of her walks Jan passed a house with a blue plaque saying Margaret Powell lived there.
After many days of mild sunny weather the nights have turned cold.  The moon shining bright in a clear sky, a sign of frost to come.  This change in the weather has made me realise I must start thinking about Christmas so pen and paper to the fore.  Let the list-making begin!

As a small child I was encouraged by my mother to recite poetry as my party piece whenever we had visitors.  I don't remember being shy about this.  I suppose I was a bit of a show-off.  My mother could remember lots of poems from her schooldays so I thought it quite a natural thing to do.   I can remember standing on a kitchen chair to do this when the ladies from the Girl Guides came at Christmas to bring us presents.  At school I was often chosen to say  a piece at at prayer time or at a concert.  But pride comes before a fall.  Mother and I were invited to tea with the ladies from the Guides.  After tea we were invited in to the study to meet their Father, a somewhat formidable gentleman called the Reverend Archibald Fleming.  I duly said my poem.  He then asked me what I liked best at school.  I said "Spelling  "Oh" he said.  "Spell study".  To my shame I could not.  I had never heard the word.  Nobody I knew had a study.  When it was explained to me afterwards I didn't know people had special rooms for reading and writing.  An early lesson in the difference between the classes!

Family Matters

I recently enjoyed a visit from my brother's grandson  and his family.   To my surprise I discovered a few months ago that he works for a company in Denmark that makes wind turbines. This company was involved in making parts for the memorial at the crash site in Stadil. (www.ee138.net)  He said on his next visit toDenmark he would like to visit the grave of his great uncle so I put him in touch with our Danish friends.    They were happy to entertain him and he found the visit most interesting.  The long arm of coincidence.

Who the Dickens Wrote David Copperfield?

In the days before washing machines a great deal of the housewife's week was spent doing the laundry.  First ,  lighting the copper to get the hot water.  Before the Clean Air Act when we started using smokeless fuels the air in our cities was dirty and, if you lived near a railway or factory, full of smuts so clothes had to be soaked.   Then scrubbed, rinsed, starched, mangled, dried and ironed. All these jobs taking a great deal of time and effort.My mother used to tell me about her friend's family, the Mullers.  Mr. Muller and his two grown up sons ran a fish shop and wore clean white shirts and aprons every day.  Poor Mrs. Muller seemed to be always at the wash tub.  Mother's friend, Maudie Muller, aged about 12 was blind.  She was. however, an excellent reader of Braille books and would sit by the garden door reading  David Copperfield   or Oliver Twist to her mother as Mrs. Muller did the washing. Their favourite was  Pickwick Papers  My mother was often there and said that she learned to like Dickens because she listened so often to Maudie.

What Did You Say?

On changing the battery in my hearing aid I was surprised to see from the record book that I first had a hearing aid in 1986 from the Victoria Hospital in Folkestone.  Changing the battery is a fiddly thing to do at the best of times but long practice has made me proficient.    I am so glad to have it.  I can't hear at all in my left ear.  The doctor surmised that my deafness might be due to measles. though I don't remember having measles.
Don had all the childish ailments when he was small.  When I said I hadn't had any that I could remember he said"You should have had them before you married me".  I think he visioned himself having to act as my nurse.  The ironic thing was that he caught whooping cough from our small son and he was quite ill and I had to nurse him!

British?

I have been watching those clever people on British Bake Off.  Not that I wish to emulate them or to eat any of their weird and wonderful concoctions.  Too many funny mixtures of ingredients.  I'm only capable of old fashioned plain cooking.   I'm quite impressed with the fact that so many of them go on to make a career out of cooking.  I suppose that explains the emotional involvement., but I do wish we could do away with the "love-in. " I get quite embarrased by the tears and hugs.  I don't call that very British.  What next?  John Humphreys hugging the losing contestants on "Mastermind?

Mind Your Language

I know the English language cannot stay the same as when I was at school but some Americanisms really annoy me.  When the waitress brings you your food and says "Enjoy".  Enjoy what?  You have to enjoy something.  The meal, the restaurant, the music?  Another bone of contention is "There you go".said by the girl at the checkout.  This is an "ageist" complaint.  The older checkout ladies say "goodbye".  Huw Edwards, the TV announcer (sorry - newsreader) always signs off by saying "Have a good night".  I always feel like saying don't tell me what sort of night to have.  Why not just "Goodnight"?
I'm often amused by road signs.  The ones that begin with "Slow".  "Slow  deer".  I always thought they were fleet of foot.  Or "Slow children crossing" or even worse "Slow Elderly Persons" with a picture of two bent , doddery figures with walking sticks.  (No need to rub it in , we can't help being a bit slow) I remember a building site with a warning notice saying "Men at Work" and sprawled on the ground beside it was a group of men drinking mugs of tea.  As for computer jargon - words fail me.  I'm told I was on a digital detox while I was without my computer.  You learn something new every day.

A rose by any other name

After filling in my three Christian names on yet another form I grew to wondering why I had them. In my family it appeared to be the custom, as in many families, to name children after their parents, grandparents or favourite relatives.  I was named after two aunts and a grown up cousin.  But we had another peculiarity.   My brother and I were known by our second names.  My second name was May and I was known as Maisie.  This became a little confusing when at the age of 12 I changed schools.  On the first morning at my new school the teacher called the register.  "Jessie Ellis" she said.  I looked round wondering who the girl was who was also named Ellis.  It was a minute or so before I answered never having been called "Jessie" before.  I expect the teacher thought we've got a right dozy one here.
My brother, Francis or Frank, was known by his second name Herbert, or to make it more confusing Bert for short. This was to distinguish it from my father, Francis Henry.  When Bert changed schools he became known as Francis or Frank and his wife always called him Frank  while my mother still called him Bert.  This led to a rather amusing incident.  Frank brought his small son to visit us one day.  When the little boy arrived home his mother asked him who he saw when he went to Nanny's house.  He replied "There was Daddy, Nanny, Auntie May and another man they kept   talking to called Bert but I couldn't see him."

Hello Hatters!  Sorry about the gap.  I'm still here.  The computer it was that died.  I will try to bring you up to date.
Since I last wrote   I spent a lovely day  visiting friends in Bath and meeting our friend from Tokyo, always a pleasure.  She was paying a visit to her family and seeing her brother who had flown in from Seattle and who was at school with my son.  I also went to Ringmer for two lovely sunny summer family days.Some Tuesdays were spent with my friends at Seaford courtesy of Mike.  My kind daughter-in-law came to keep me company while my family were in Ireland.  My days would not be complete without trips to the Eye Hospital  and finally I have a new girl to do my hoovering.
I think that brings you up to date.  Not exactly a Hollywood epic but quite exciting enough for a nonagenerian!

70th Anniversary (contd.)

After the ceremony everyone went to the village hall for coffee and cakes.  Gifts were given to the very many helpers who had voluntarily worked so hard to mark this anniversary. Then  our friends, Else & Erling kindly invited several English and Australian relatives to supper.  which was nice as we were able to spend some time with Ernie's nephew, Graham, who had flown from Northern Ireland. After a nice supper provided by our generous hosts we returned to our hotel.
The next day things did not go quite so smoothly  We rose at 6 so as to be in good time for our 8.25 flight.  There were only 7 passengers.  At 10 a.m. we were told our flight had been cancelled because of fog in London. We spent the whole day at the airport not knowing how or when we would get home.  Eventually they booked us on to the evening flight leaving at 5.30. We spent our time in the very comfortable Executive Lounge with free food and drink.  A & T were able to do some work on the computers which were provided.  I found it very boring as I cannot see to read.  All the other people were groups of businessmen. Amanda and I spent money in the shops. (How cleverly they provide such temptations).
At 5 p.m. we went to the plane.  Then there was another delay of one and a half hours because of confusion over the amount of fuel because they had not allowed for we extra 7 passengers from the morning flight.  We eventually took off and arrived in London at about 9 p.m. where our taxi driver had been waiting for hours.  We said goodbye to Tom and arrived home at 11 p.m.  A rather long day!

70th Anniversary

A  week ago I flew to Denmark to take part in the 70th Anniversary Commemoration ceremony of the death of my first husband in September 1943.  I had just, somewhat belatedly, received his war medals which inspired me to go.  I had previously thought I was too old and infirm to make the journey but, as usual, my family  came to the rescue and said they would make all the arrangements  so off we went.
Amanda  and I went to London City Airport by taxi and met my grandson. We arrived in Denmark late on Tuesday night and stayed at the airport hotel.  We hired a car and Tom drove us to Stadil next morning and we had lunch with our friends the Halkjaer family.
The ceremony took place at the crash site.  I think there must have been nearly 200 people there including Senior Officers from the RAAF and the Danish Air Force, an RAF sergeant, the Australian Ambassador, Executives from the Local Council and several relatives of the crew.  A propeller which had been recovered was put in place and dedicated.  Altogether it was a very moving occasion.
A young lady from the TV asked me a few questions for the local TV News and the Editor of the local paper took copious notes afterwards.  I was glad I went.  I met so many old friends and made some new ones.  I shook so many hands I felt like the Queen.  ( To be continued)

August Afternoon

Bright sunlight, a  cloudless blue sky, a warm breeze and the sweet smells of summer  -  steak, chicken, sausages, garlic and cooking oil  Are barbecues anti-social?  It depends which side of the fence you are on.  But I must not be an old grouch.  From the shrieks of mirth someone is obviously having a good time.
I must admit that in the sixties we had a party for my Brownie Pack in our garden and had a "sausage sizzle".  We salvaged two large oven shelves from a discarded oven at the local tip.  My husband dug a trench at the top of the garden nearest the field adjoining and lined it with bricks before filling it with sticks balancing the shelves on top and we cooked dozens of sausages which disappeared as quickly as we could cook them.  In my declining years  I have decided it is more sensible, though perhaps not so much fun, to make use of the perfectly adequate apparatus in my kitchen.

Pot Pourri

The phone rang.  A charming lady's voice said "Mrs. Bowler?"  "Oh no" I groaned rather rudely, then apologised.  It was the nice lady at the Eye Hospital to say I had to have an injection following my last scan. However that's done for another 4 weeks.
We have had the pleasore of a visit from our Danish family recently.  The weather was kind and they were able to go somewhere nice each day, including a visit to Chartwell and a day in London where they saw the Bomber Command Memorial.
Ihave been persuaded to go on a brief visit to Denmark to the 70th Commemoration Ceremony next month.  My passport needed to be renewed so A went to London to collect it.  It expires in 2023 so A said we must remember to get it renewed then!!!!

? Stop and search

D used to say that I never went out without having an adventure.  Today I went only as far as  the Post Box at the end of our road.  As I was returning a Police car drew up and a handsome young policeman came across to speak to me. He was very polite and asked me how I was.  I said "Fine"  He then asked my name and I said "Jessie Bowler".  He said "Not Bessie?"  He asked where I lived and I told him and said I was on my way home after going to the post.    He apologised for bothering me and explained they were looking for someone and I fitted the description.  I said "Poor thing."  He grinned and went.  I suppose one dotty old lady with white hair looks very like another to the young.

Warden Hodges

I have been reading about Bill Pertwee the comic actor.  His most famous role was as the Air Raid Warden in "Dad's Army". His oft repeated cry of "Put that light out" and his irascible character made him almost as much an an enemy of the Home Guard platoon as Hitler himself.
Perhaps this did ARP wardens an injustice.    They were volunteers , men and women, of all ages and walks of life.  They did their days work and then courageously patrolled the streets in the blackout during air raids shepherding people into public shelters, giving advice and risking their lives helping to rescue  and give first aid to survivors of bombing.  And all volunteers.
Be that as it may, we all enjoy the predicaments warden hodges gets into.  He seemed to spend a lot of tine getting soaked!  He says on one occasion he was left struggling in the sea in the dark only to find the rest of the cast and cameramen had moved half a mile along the beach without him.  I remember him as an actor on radio in "Round the Horn" and other radio comedy programmes  A great character..  

Prince George

My father-in-law, another George, would have been delighted by the choice of name for the Royal baby.  When a reporter congratulated Princess Anne on the event she retorted in typical style  "It's nothing to do with me!"  When I was in my early thirties my nephew, who is 14 years younger than I am. became a father.  I said to D "That makes me a great aunt and you a great uncle."  He was having none of it.   He retorted "It's nothing to do with me, that's your side of the family."

Money

I have been looking at ny bank account.  Not having been out shopping I see I haven't spent much this month. Perhaps I should follow D's example and not carry more than a pound when I go out.  How did he do it?  My friend's father said of his brother-in-law  "When we go to the pub he is always the first person to put his hand in his pocket--and keep it there till the danger is past".
I have had some thoughts about money.   The reason most wealthy people have money is because they hang on to it. Money may not solve all one's problems but it is quite an effective solution to being poor.  Someone said that those who say money doesn't buy happiness don't know where to shop.  Economics has its uses.  It keeps economist off the dole queue.  What can I say about Bankers?  Only what I have read somewhere.  That a Banker is someone who lends you an umbrella when the sun is shining and asks for it back when it is raining.
Maybe I should just decide that because of my poor eyesight I can't read my bank statements and give up worrying.

We're having a heat wave

As the song says "It's Too Darned Hot"..    I am having a bit of difficulty seeing things on my monitor.  No matter how big the font there are still these gaps in my reading .  However to reassure my readers I am still here.  
As I said yesterday to my nine year old grandson who rang from Paris to ask how I was (in impeccable English)  only a few short weeks ago we were all grumbling about the cold, rainy weather now we are complaining about the heat.  There's no pleasing some people.

Wimbledon

Great Scot !!
I spent yesterday in the beautiful garden at Ringmer with the family.  Lunch and tea were taken to the accompaniment of cheers and groans from the crowd at Wimbledon echoed by our cheers and groans as Andy battled his way to become champion.   Not good for my blood presure but so exciting.

Geography

Had a discussion yesterday about the whereabouts of Slovenia where one of my friends has gone.  I could not decide whether it was part of what was Yugoslavia or Czechoslovakia.  Another coincidence A had an e mail brochure yesterday from Slovakia, part of the old Czechoslovakia so conclude Slovenia is part of what was Yugoslavia.   What with all the "Stans" that the Soviet Union has split into I no longer know where anything is.  I can't see to read my Atlas, all so confusing.  I wish progress would stand still for a minute so that I can catch up.

A Guest

Still waiting for real summer to come though we have had some sunny days.  We are halfway through the year and I realised with a shock that at the end of this week it will be the  longest day.  This week I have the pleasure of my daughter-in-law staying with me.  Yesterday we sat in the sun in Hove Par,a really beautifu place with magnificent trees.  We sat outside the cafe eating ice creams.  We had so much to say it is a wonder our tongues weren't sunburnt

Nobs and snobs

More strange words.  At my daughter's graduation ceremony in Canterbury Cathedral Don and I were fortunate enough to be given tickets by a friend who worked at the University.  This ensured us two seats close to where all the action was,  as I said afterwards we sat among the "nobs".  Not that any of them spoke to us so we could not say we were" hob-nobbing" with them.  I was ruminating on these words.  I suppose they originally came from the word  "nobility".  Whereas "snobs" is quite a different kettle of fish.  "Snobs" implies someone not pleasant who considers himself superior to the lower orders and shows it,  someone who is copying the ways of  persons he considers
 superior.  (See Hyacinth Bucket or Ronnie Barker in the famous sketch with John Clees and Ronnie Corbett)
When I was a child (a long time ago) I was told to take my shoes to the snobs to be soled and heeled.  The snob was a slang word for a cobbler.  I wonder how that came about?
I love the infinite variety of the English language.

Coronation Day 1953

I have just been reading (with some degree of difficulty) letters to the Radio Times from people describing where they were on Coronation Day 1953.  I know where I was.  I was on a little local Spanish train on my way to Barcelona  A little old lady wanted to know why I wasn't in England.   She took off her hat and as if she was placing a crown on my head kept repeating  "Elisabetta,  Elisabetta" as she lifted it up and down.
Why was I there?  Don and I had read a travel article in the Sunday Times by Elizabeth Nicholas about the Costa Brava in Northern Spain.  She said the best time to go was late May before it got too hot.  So off we went.  I was expecting our first child at the time.  We went by train through France stay ing a couple of nights in Paris.  We ended up in a tiny fishing village called San Feliu des Guixoles.  (I may not have spelt that right, it was a long time ago)  At that time no one had heard of high rise hotels.  There was nothing there but a few fishermen's houses, a Fonda which was where we were staying, two or three shops which were the front room of peoples' houses and a cork factory.   Small steam trains carried loads of tree trunks from cork forests in land to be made into corks for wine bottles.  The last train let off steam about 100 yards from our little guest house, a sort of pub, at 11.30 p.m. and the first train did the same at 5.30 a.m.   We did not need an alarm clock.
We were treated like Royalty and though the menu was limited it was very good.  The only other people staying there were workers from the factory.  We were embarassed to see that we were given rather better food than the others.  I suppose we were paying more.
The British were trusted.  On the way to the beach I saw abasket outside a shop that I thought I would buy but the shopkeeper could not change my note.  I said I would come back the next day with the right money.  She insisted that I took the basket and paid for it next time I was passing!
We took a bus to Palafrugel and while waiting in the bus station for a bus back the whole village took a walk round the bus station to see these strangers!  They had never seen English people before.  Don said he felt as though he had two heads.  We were a novelty.
We did see the coronation.  When we got back home to London we watched the whole thing ata cinema in Penge.

Heating

Oh! How lovely to be warm.   We have been waiting weeks for this weather.  I seemed to have spent a lot of my early life trying to get warm.  When I was little the only heating in our flat was a coal fire in the living room.  your front got really hot but your back was freezing.  The loo which was outside was so cold that you delayed going there until the very last muinute.  Did it make us hardy?  I don't know
In 1948 we moved into a very large old house in West Dulwich.  The lease was owned by Dulwich College.  It had been damaged in the bombing and had a very leaky roof which necessitated variou receptacles being strategically placed to catch the drips.  When we moved in Don said he had never seen so many chamber pots in one place!  The heating was very much hit and miss.  There was a coal fire in the front sitting room, a gas fire in the dining room,  a coke boiler in the kitchen which was supposed to heat the water but often was no more tan tepid.  In the hall was a Valor oil stove whose top was cut out in a flower decoration and cast a pretty pattern on the ceiling.  This latter was inclined to be a bit smelly.  Upstairs my mother's room had a small electric fire, in the other three bedrooms and a walk-in linen cupboard  ,  nothing.. We did, however, have two inside toilets.  There was a long flight of stairs to the landing which then divided,five steps up to the front bedrooms and three to the back.  When my friend came she said  "How grand! You have got wings".
Despite its drawbacks we had a lovely seven years there  We had a lovely girl dental student as our lodger to help with expenses and our son was born there. So we had fond memories of our time there.

Wagner

I thought I would give Richard Wagner another chance.  I had long ago decided he was not my cup of tea despite the fact that millions of people around the world far more knowledgeable about music than I am think he is marvellous.  Antonio Pappano was to explain "The Ring Cycle" so as I thoroughly approve (most of the time) of him I thought I would give it a go.  I watched about three quarters of the programme but, like Omar Kayaam,  "went out by that same door wherein I went".
It seems my musical education has been sadly neglected.   My operatic tastes are obviously down market.  I do like a tune I can la la to.  Except for "The Meistersingers" I must sadly leave Wagner to the more erudite.  I shall happily watch my DVDs of Italian and French opera and Mozartian offerings.  It all started with another Richard,  Richard Baker and "These You Have Loved".  Perhaps I haven't progressed very far from there.  How sad!!
Never mind.  I have a row of DVDs to enjoy and can always fall back on Gilbert and Sullivan for a good tune.

Mass Observation

Yesterday's post was the bare bones of a diary entry I sent on line to the Mass Observation Archives at Susse University.  Many years ago I read a book by Naomi Mitchison called "Among You Taking Notes"  which was a wartine diary of WW2  that she wrote at the request of  MO Project so I was interested to read their request to record the diary especially as May 12th was a day of family celebration.  It all started in 1937 asking people to write about their day in Britain.  It stopped after a few years but has now been revived.  It had the reputation for being left wing.  Politics apart I found it interesting.  I have always had an interest in diaries.

Sunday 12th May 2013

Woke this morning at 6 a.m., took my pills, made a cup of tea and went back to bed.  Set the alarm for 8 a.m.  Didn't hear it though everyone else did.  A came down and took the clock away to turn off the alarm.  I woke again at 8.40 and couldn't find the clock despite pulling out the bed and searching underneath.   All resolved later.    Missed the morning service on the radio.
Drew the sitting room curtains.  A dull grey day.  Breakfast cereal and another cup of tea. Tried to finish Friday's D.T. crossword.  Failed! Can't read for long as my eyes get tired.
Coffee and 2 biscuits at 11 a.m.  Sun came out  Sat in my 19th century conservatory reading a 19th century book  -  Three Men in a Boat- in large print on my Kindle which was my birthday present from the family.  This book has been a favourite of mine since I was about 10 years old, introduced to me by my brother Frank.
My daughter comes in to clean the kitchen as I have no domestic help this week.   I think I have said I call her the Food Inspector as she checks on my fridge and throws away anything out-of-date. Having lived through the war and rationing, like many of my generation I don't like to waste food.   Today it was eggs that had to be consigned to the bin.  I bow to her superior judgement.
Lunch at 1.30.  Cheese and pickle sandwich and two nectarines and a cup of tea. Listened to Classic FM.  dozed in warm sunshine.  M did some grocery shopping for me.  Knees a bit painful.
Today is my second grandson's 32nd birthday, also my granddaughter's 1st wedding anniversary.  I sent an e mail to her also to friend Phil whose birthday itis.  While at the computer I checked the blog of my English friend in Tokyo.  She is a professor at Tokyo University.
At 3.40 I prepared a chicken and vegetable casserole for my supper.
4 p.m. tea and a slice of homemade Madeira cake.  I peeled an apple on my new apple peeler and corer.  Then I watched Songs of Praise and Midsomer Murders (or Barnaby as it is known abroad) and the News.
7 p.m. supper and some rather dull Tv. Soon after nine I listened to my Audio book.  This week it is the autobiography of Katherine Whitehorn.  Very good.
11.30  Small glass of milk and bed.

Apres l'Anniversaire

Everything had gone a bit flat since my birthday until I start to remember the advantages of being old.
There are a lot of things I no longer have to worry about.  For instance,  I know now that I can safely look at mountains without being expected to climb them,  no one is going to persuade me that I should do a parachute jump or fly in a balloon.  I have done my share of hazardous adventuring with Don.  Walking to the shops is exciting enough for me.
I will continue to look for comfortable shoe, no longer the silver sandals with high heels that I wore in my dancing days.  Despite the installation of the Protestant work ethic tried out on me by my mother and my husband I will no longer regard sitting down doing nothing as a sin.  I shall probably continue to make lists of jobs I ought to do but if I don't do them today there is always manana.
Hooray for 90!

Normal service is being resumed

My euphoria of Wednesday was short lived.  On Thursday morning I received a phone call from my clinic to say it had re-opened and, following the result of my scan on the 16th I should go in straight away for an injection.  So with  long suffering Mike we once again made our way to the Eye Hospital.  The  injection was soon over with just a little discomfort.With regard to the picture of flowery material I kept seeing it has not bothered me much today.  Perhaps it is like sufferers from tinnitus. if you don't think too much about it you can ignore it.  I hope so anyway.

Mind Games

Today I had to make an emergency visit to the Eye Hospital.  For the past couple of days an oblong picture   of some pretty red and blue flowers and dots on a yellow background such as you might see on a summer dress or a cushion cover had appeared at the edge of my vision.in my left eye.  Very disconcerting.  I struggled to read or watch TV or indeed do anything but the picture persisted.  I was told at the clinic to contact them if anything changed or was worrying me so this I did and was told to come straightaway.  So Mike and Amanda took me this afternoon.  Of course I had to choose a day when my clinic was closed because the doctors were doing their exams.  However, though working under pressure, I was treated with the usual quiet efficiency and after a short wait saw a doctor, a charming man.
I was greatly relieved to be told it was just a side effect of macular degeneration and not harmful.  In fact the doctor, after a thorough examination said my condition was stable and not getting any worse.. He explained what was happening.  It is called Charles Bonnet syndrome,  Because the brain is missing pictures and words as my sight gets less it fills in the blanks with other images such as flowers, gardens, people animals etc. It might in time go away, meanwhile I shall just have to get used to it.  What a marvellous thing the brain is even if it doesn't always behave as you would expect.
I was so relieved I went home and celebrated with two cups of tea and a piece of cake.

Coincidences.

Life is full of them.   My nephew's wife was talking about my brother who sadly died in a nursing home in 2007.  She said he once shared a room with the father-in-law of George Aligiah.   I had just written about G.A. in my blog  but she had not read it!  Two of my guests from different sides of the family look after people's dogs while their owners are on holiday.  Another is attending courses at the City Literary Institute where I went in the 1940s and three nephews from different branches of the family had a common interest in the West Hampshire Regiment.  One gentleman was interested in a particular project that my daughter is working on. Also it turns out that my brother's grandson is working for the company that helped to provide the memorial to Ernie and his crew in Denmark.  I could go on, but isn't life extraordinary?

Me at Ninety

Well!  That was some Birthday celebration.  My lovely family and my dear friends did me proud!!  I was deluged with cards and flowers and all sorts of nice things.  To have my family all here (with one or two exceptions  -  who were much missed)  gave me the greatest pleasure.  The arrival of so many friends added to this.  I kept thinking how lucky I was.
Amanda ,Mike and Martin ably assisted by Naima, Lan, Roger and all the grandchildren provided a cooked lunch for 32 people.  It was a miracle of organisation carried out with military precision and willing helpers.
After coffee and a birthday toast we all got down to the serious business of eating a delicious lunch. The diners were upstairs and down and from the buzz of talk and laughter seemed to be enjoying themselves.Considering some people were meeting for the first time I was intrigued to follow the conversations they had in common ranging fron football to dogs, to  the Army, the Navy, the war, sewing and cooking.  There were people washing up in both kitchens.  At 4 p.m. we had tea and a magnificent birthday cake with sparklers!!  It was quite late before the last of the guests went.  Six extra people were staying in the house so there were a lot of beds to be made up.  I think all the surplus furniture and things ended up in my bedroom which looked like Paddy's Market.  Shall I ever be straight again?

Now the house is so quiet.  As my mother used to say it is back to old clothes and porridge.

The News

Have you noticed how the news readers on Radio 4 (one doesn't call them announcers any more)  - how they thank any contributor to the bulletin very profusely  They all say "Thank you very much (pause)  INDEED."  I love the chap with the dark brown voice.  I anticipate him breaking  into song at any moment with "Ole Man River".  Like "Little Miss Bouncer who loved an announcer down at the BBC" a song by the Western Brothers-  (o.k. before your time) - I like the handsome Sri Lankan, George Aligiah.  His news always seems better somehow.

Easter Weather

Looking back at my blog for Easter 2011 (which was a little later in the year) I see that the weather was so warm and sunny that we had a family lunch at the top[ of the garden and spent the afternoon out of doors playing Rummy.  What a difference to this year!  Fairly bright today but still cold.  We are promised a slight rise in temperature by the weekend.  I hope it warms up by the following weekend.

Harking back to my recollections of Sunday School I found that the children enjoyed the Bible stories if they could act them.  I found a file with a lot of little sketches I had written for them.  There was always a Miss Bossy Boots who would sort out the cast.  They particularly liked stories with animals in them and there are a lot in the Bible.  On one Palm Sunday a disciple was dispatched to the man at the Gate to ask to borrow a donkey.  He had to say "The Lord has need of him"  Miss Bossy Boots cast herself as the donkey but her little brother would not let go of her hand so Jesus went to Jerusalem with two donkeys that day.  They liked Daniel in the lion's den when they could roar and another favourite was the story of Noah.   They would line up, two by two, choosing an animal.  The bears, say, would go first, round Noah into the Ark (a row of chairs) and appear at the other end of the queue as a pair of giraffes (not having an inexhaustable number of children)  This could go on for a long time until I appeared as the dove because it was time for a prayer before going home.  Happy days.

April Fools Day

Haven'tbeen caught out yet, except by the weather.  The sun has been streaming into the conservatory but it is still very cold outside.  My brother always caught me with his April Fool jokes even though I determined each year to watch out for his pranks.

I listened to a lovely Easter service on the radio, thinking this is on early, then the announcer said it is nine o'clock and I realised I had forgotten to change my clocks to British Summer Time.  British Summer Time!! That;s a laugh.  It is still like the Arctic out of doors and the forecasters are still talking about snow showers.  There were two other beautiful church services on the TV.  I love to hear the choirboys' voices soaring up into the roof.  They all look so angelic.  I miss going to church but life is a bit difficult one way and another.

When I was running the Sunday school we would get the children to make an Easter garden with a hill covered in moss and three wooden crosses on top and a border of primroses round the base.  Beside the hill we would make a papier mache cave with a large pebble from the beach to represent the tomb and the stone that was rolled away  We placed these in the church porch .  The children really enjoyed making this and would bring all sorts of things from the seashore to add to the decorations.

A Good Old Moan

Oh how I hate cold weather!  At times like this my brain turns to mush and I can only think of keeping warm. Snug and cosy under a duvet and a blanket I thought I heard my mother say "Come on Maisie, time to get up". As I woke I distinctly heard myself saying "I'm nice and warm in bed".  Although my mother died in 1983 I still frequently hear her voice in my sleep. Today she would certainly be saying "When the wind is in the east, it's neither good for man nor beast".  To cap it all my LED light has gone for a Burton so I can't read much or do the crossword.

Having got that off my chest I start to think of my blessings.   A nice warm house with sufficient food and clothing.  A bright sunny (though cold) day with no snow.  The pictures of the rest of the U.K. are so awful.  We are lucky to live in the south.  The hill farmers are having a terrible time, just at lambing time and it is said they are not insured against loss.
I am reminded of March 1947 when my wedding day was hit by snow.  I had planned a Spring wedding with a buffet lunch for 30 people but the kind caterer decided we should have roast chicken with all the trimmings.  In a time of many shortages it was like Christmas!

King Richard

By sheer chance I watched a programme about the discovery of King Richard III's skeleton.  I could not make out why the archeologists had started digging in such an unlikely place as a car park.  It turned out that some old documents showed that there had been a church on that site and it was known that after Richard had been cut down in battle his body was buried in that church and it described the exact location.  Once the diggers had uncovered the walls of the church they were able to pinpoint  where to look for the king's body.
They then had the task of finding a descendant to test for a match with the king's DNA.  Amazingly they found one in Canada who had died but her son lived in England and the DNA matched!  So this really was King Richard III's skeleton.
I found the programme most absorbing.  The only complaint I have is that once again the only picture we are given of the story of the king's life and character was that portrayed by Shakespeare  who liked a good story with plenty of villainy.  There was certainly much villainy in the struggle for power and the throne at that time but it was not all on one side.
Now starts the question of where and how Richard should be reburied.  After all, he was King of England and Monarchs of all shades of human frailty have been buried with pomp and ceremony.  He deserves no less.

March Weekend.

Friday the 8th was the 66th anniversary of my wedding to Don.
Yesterday, Mothering Sunday, Amanda cooked a delicious lunch.  Tom came to celebrate his mother's day so he partook of the lunch Amanda made for HER mother.  Clever move!  Roger phoned and My friend from Tokyo sent a pretty e card.

I have been reading with interest the reports of the finding of the skeleton of Richard III, King of England from 1483 - 1485.  He was supposed to have murdered his young nephews in order to become king.  I had recently recommended Josephine Tey's books to my granddaughter.  Josephine Tey wrote a very absorbing novel about Richard III called  "A Daughter of Time".  In this book a fictional detective who is confined to a hospital bed becomes interested in the story of the king after seeing a picture of him.  He , the detective, is looking for something to do so he decides to investigate  to see if  he really is the villain as Shakespeare's pla
y portrays him.  By the end of the book I was completely convinced.  I wonder where they will bury the remains.  I think they should stay in Leicestershire where he fell in battle.
Incidentally, Colin Dexter, in one of his Morse stories, had Morse confined to a hospital bed and looking for something to do to pass the time.  Morse decides to in vestigate a crime from years ago where three men were hanged for a supposed murder.  Another absorbing story!                                                                                                                  

A Question of Sport

How opinions can differ  I was incensed to read Alison Graham 's piece in the Radio Times saying it is time the TV  programme "A Question of Sport" was scrapped.  It can't be all bad as it has just celebrated  1,000 episodes.  I enjoy it immensely and have long been a fan.   The good humoured rivalry and banter between the two captains  and the surprising appearance of the supporting players is always a delight.
By contrast there was a long article in the Daily Telegraph lauding the programme to the skies.  There are a great many programmes that I would dispense with before this good hearted show with its rather silly games .I think there is no question.  It is played by some jolly good sports!

iro-iro

I have just pinched this post title from my friend in Tokyo.  It means "various" in Japanese.
Well it's obvious I didn't follow the advice in my last post. You must be thinking I have pressed the pause button.  Actuallly there have been a series of diversions from the norm!  I had a rather painful session at the Eye Hospital and for three days this week I have been feeling like death.  However today I only feel half dead so I must be recovering.  (My Scottish neighbour once said to his doctor "Oh Doctor I'm near dead".To which the doctor unsympathetically replied  "You are the liveliest looking corpse I've seen today".) To continue - the house has been swarming with workmen cutting off the electricity among other things so no computering.
The fridge freezer episode turned out to be a case of serendipity, a happy accident.  As well as having a lovely new fridge freezer my kitchen has been much improved and reorganised by Amanda and our clever builder friend. The electricity is now back on .  Yesterday it was a case of keeping on the move to keep warm!  The weather today is very cold but bright.

In March I have lived in Hove for 7 years.  Amazing where the time has gone.  It was a wise move of Mike and Don's although I hadn't contemplated living here without Don who died only two months after we moved. One never knows what surprises, nice or nasty, life has in store.

The Thief of Time

As age and lethargy overtake me I think procrastination is my worst sin.  I am forever putting things off until tomorrow.  I have just read some good advice.
1.   Do it now.
2.   No delay is the best way.
3.   Do that chore every day  (except Sundays.)
4.   Write down somewhere  "At the  end of today I will have done .........
5.   Assemble all the tools or ingredients needed to do the job.  You really can't put them all back unused.
Well I have read the advice.  I'll start tomorrow.  Oh no! that's Sunday.  I'll start on Monday.

Music Practice

My son tells me that my nine year old grandson is doing well with his violin lessons.  My daughter learned to play the violin at about the same age and went on to join a Youth Orchestra and to play for the Folkestone Folk Dancers.When I lived in Sandgate in Kent a ceremony was held every Armistice Day at the War Memorial at the bottom of our road.  After an abbreviated morning service at the Parish church the congregation would process to the Memorial led by the Vicar and choir.  Following them were the churchwardens and sidesmen, of whom Don was one, then the members of the British Legion, the Scouts and Cubs and my Guides and Brownies. We would be joined by members of the Congregational church and local people.  The Vicar would hold a short service and after a hymn the Last Post would be played, somewhat tremulously by George, a Boy Scout.  The point of this story is that George , for a few days at the beginning of November,  would go into the woods behind our house and practise his piece on the bugle. A learner on the musical instrument is not always the most popular member of family and neighbours.  Don was heard to say to our daughter " Very nice,  dear. Why don't you go up in the woods and practise with George?".

Black Wednesday

I woke this morning to find my fridge freezer was not working.  Oh calamity!  All my frozen food was awash.   It all had to be thrown away.  To one of the wartime generation this was a disaster.  To waste food was the eighth deadly sin.  However as I had inherited this fridge from my daughter and it was nearly 20 years old I suppose I shouldn't grumble.  Look on the bright side.  I shall now have a new fridge freezer that does not need that wearisome chore of defrosting.

Modern Marriage

It used to be said that marriages were made in heaven. Nowadays it would appear that it is not the angels who decide who shall marry who but the computer.Apparently a girl seeking a husband no longer follows Jane Austen's advice and looks for a young man with a good income who is in need of a wife.  Instead she feeds the details into a computer of what she has to offer as a wife and what she requires of a husband in return.  Some wizard at Microsoft or wherever presses a few buttons and Hey Presto! out come the details of exactly the right man with all the attributes she specified.  If she is really picky she can have another go.
In former days consanquinity was the most likely way to find a marriage partner.  In an earlier post I said I had found that one either married a neighbour, a school fellow, a work colleague or someone  met at church or a social gathering such as a dance or tennis club.. I wonder how much more successful are marriages arranged by a computer.  In my opinion any marriage needs a great deal of tolerance, give and take and a shared sense of humour to succeed.

Crosswords

My friend from Tokyo and I never have a cross word though we have recently been discussing our interest in cryptic crosswords.  She is much more computer literate than I am and  is getting on like a house on fire.  I rely on my ancient Collins Pocket Thesaurus when I need to clarify some of the more incomprehensible words.  I was taught that every single word in the clue plays a significant part in the answer.
I started doing the Daily Telegraph cryptic crossword when I was sixteen or seventeen.  During 1939/40, in what we called the "phoney war" before the bombs started falling on us, we spent a lot of time in Civil Defence waiting for something to happen.  The members of staff were a mixed lot of civil servants, Local Government people, ex-service men (known as old sweats) and volunteers.  A chap who had previously been an architect at the London County Council got me started on the crossword  and I have been attempting to do it  almost every day since.  I say attempting to do it as I don't always manage to complete it.  Some days are easier than others depending on the compiler ( a brainbox if ever there was one).  Sometimes I am ploughing away for two or three days.
I feel my day is not complete without tackling my crossword.  We made the headlines in the local paper when we went on honey moon to the south of France in 1947.  Foreign travel was a novelty then.  I couldn't go for a fortnight without my crossword.  You should have heard the shrieks of hilarity from my office colleagues  when I said I was taking a crossword book on my honeymoon!

Pong 2

Sorry !  Almost Fatal Error.  I  meant, of course, to say "Not harmful".

Pong!

A bit of excitement a couple of days ago.  We woke to the smell of gas.  After ascertaining that in was not indoors but that the street outside smelt vilely of rotten eggs we closed all doors and windows and waited indoors for the big bang.  After finding out the gas was not harmless (so said by the cause of all this bother) we found out to our astonishment that the smell emanated from a factory in Rouen, France.  There had been a leak of an additive that is added to natural gas as a safety precaution (natural gas having no smell, so you wouldn't know if there was a leak).  The wind had carried it along the French coast and then northwards across the Channel to Kent and Sussex.  .  Thankfully the snow turned to heavy rain and the gas was washed away.  So I am still here to tell the tale.

Duvets

There has been a lot of correspondence in the Telegraph respecting the issue of duvets  v  sheets and blankets.  I first encountered a duvet when I was in Vienna in 1950.  It was not a happy experience.  If I pulled it up to my neck it left my feet exposed and if I wanted to cover my feet it was decidedly chilly on my upper half.  I blamed the Russians !  We had just spent a hazardous journey driving over the Semmering Pass from Klagenfurt through the occupied Russian Zone of Austria wondering each time we were stopped at checkpoints if we were going to end up in the salt mines of Siberia.  Everything was in short supply so perhaps that went for duvets.
Over the years I have been well stocked with sheets and blankets and couldn't see any reason to change until about three years ago.  Now I huddle happily under my duvet(double  size) snug and warm.  But I still think they are an invention of the devil when it comes to changing the cover especially as mine contrived malevolently to trip me up last October and I ended up with two black eyes !

Snow

I dragged myself out of  my nice warm bed very reluctantly this morning.  Had it not been for the fact that I was in need of a hot cup of tea I might still be there.  I may have said before that I no longer like the winter. I can't move around fast enough to keep warm so I am in hibernation.   The only bright spot on the horizon is that the days are drawing out and it does not get dark so early.
When I spent some weeks in the Far East  I realised that eternal sunshine was not really such a good idea either.  Don's mantra was "moderation in all things"  and he lived by it.  I wish I did. I have just read that you grow in sense as you grow older in years.  I sometimes doubt the truth of that - or perhaps I am not yet old enough!                        

Passage to India

I have just been reading in the Oxford Dictionary of National Biography about the Badaranaika family in Sri Lanka.  In 1981 we went to stay at a hotel in Mahabalipuram near Madras in India. A charming hotel near the sea where just previously the English Test Cricket team had been relaxing between matches.
One of the waiters became very friendly with me and took me to see the room where Prince Charles had slept, also Mrs. Bandaranaika, Prime Minister of Sri Lanka although he hastened to assure me not at the same time.  So I can claim that I once sat on Prince Charles' bed.
The next year on another memorable trip to Sri Lanka, Goa India and the Maldives we stayed at the Summer Palace of the Maharajah of Mysore now turned into a very swish hotel.   To our astonishment we were welcomed as old friends by our waiter from Mahabalipuram.    This time he took me upstairs to see the splendour of the Maharajah's bedroom.  A large ornate colourful room with beautiful hangings and gilded furniture.   He said "This is the King's room".  He then took me next door to a slightly smaller but no less ornate room.  He said "And this is Mrs. King's room".

We were once staying at a small cheap hotel in France not far from La Rochelle.  For a few days in the middle of the week we were the only guests.  Next to where I sat in the dining room was a cupboard containing various cold dishes.  I wondered how long they has been there and hoped that the patron had prepared them all that day. We were a bit doubtful about choosing the sweets, yoghourt etc. especially as we had caught the three year old daughter of Monsieur opening the cupboard and sampling the goodies within!  I am not sure then that we had heard of salmonella.  My fridge is occasionally sorted out by the Food Inspector from upstairs who makes sure I don't get food poisoning by throwing out any thing that is past its sell by date.  I hope I haven't passed mine!!  I'm not quite ready to be consigned to the bin.

Talking of which what are the "cookies"  on my computer?  And what about Tablets?  I have read that you can get a Honeycomb Tablet. Make a change from indigestion  tablets.And what are Add-ons and how do you get rid of them?  My laptop did not come with a book of rules so I stumble on from one discovery to the next.  Oh well!  It keeps the little grey cells working.  Must stop rambling on and make a life enhancing cup of tea.

Ancient Artefacts

Some time in the 1970s I was sitting in the dining room of avery old pub in Wiltshire enjoying my meal.  Hanging on the wall opposite me was a number of brass and iron objects from bygone days.  Two of these looked vaguely familiar.  They looked like black iron coat hangers but I couldn't think where I had previously seen them.  When I reached home I went into the kitchen to put the kettle on and there hanging from the ceiling were my two "coat hangers".   They held the rails of my clothes drier which hung from the ceiling and were raised up and down by means of a pulley.  No wonder I thought they looked familiar!  In the days before tumble driers they were in valuable and during the 1950s were usually festooned with towelling nappies (before the invention of pampers). I must confess to being a bit put out to find my useful  drier being classed as ancient artefacts.  In my friend's house their ceiling drier hung over the Aga and she and her sister would make a mad rush into their kitchen to rescue their undies  before the fumes of frying bacon rose upward.  Those were the days!!.

Morton's Fork

I watched a most interesting programme presented by the retiring Archbishop of Canterbury  about Canterbury Cathedral.  A subject very familiar to our family as we all lived in Canterbury .  Amanda actually worked at the Cathedral in the precincts as did her two sisters-in-law. Don was confirmed in Canterbury  and spent days after retirement in the Cathedral Library  researching his family.  Mike, Amanda and I were thrilled to be shown these familiar places and Mike actually saw his cousin on the film.

The Archbishop mentioned John Morton.  He was Chancellor to Henry VII and became Archbishop of Canterbury.   His remedy for raising money for the Government was to say if a man lived frugally it meant he had saved money and could afford to give generously to the Government.  If a man lived and spent lavishly he must have a lot of money and he, too, could afford to give.  This was known as "Morton's Fork".  I recommend this to Mr. Obama.

A 1920s Christmas

 I have seen a good many Christmases. One I particularly remember was when I was about six. Life was hard for our family between the wars and money very short.
Two or three days before Christmas there was a knock at the door. I heard my mother say "Come in out of the cold" and into the room came a Girl Guide Captain, who we came to know later as Miss Christina Fleming . She came in with her sister, Robin, and six Girl Guides each one bearing a gift. They had brought tins of fruit, chocolate, biscuits, corned beef, tea, sugar and a Christmas pudding. Such largesse!
Some kind person had given our name to these two ladies who were the daughters of the Reverend Archibald Fleming. He was the minister of a fashionable Church in Pont St, Knightsbridge. The Guide Company was distributing gifts to the less well off. I reckon we qualified!!
What a lovely surprise! How kind they were and what a wonderful Christmas we had!

2013

A Happy New Year to you all if you are still there.
It has been on the whole a happy year for me.  The weather was often disappointing and then it would suddenly cheer up and remember it was supposed to be summer.  It was, actually, a wonderful summer as regards pageantry  and colour with the Jubilee and the Olympics.

The highlight of my year was the marriage of my granddaughter, Holly, to Jason. A lovely Spring day in a beautiful setting...It was great having all the members of the family together.  My grandsons, all four of them were there so I was able to have a picture of all my grandchildren together.
During the year I had some lovely days out including a visit to friends  in Bath which meant I saw my dear friend from Tokyo.  My family came over from France  and the little boys are growing up so nicely !  There were regular happy visits to my friends in Seaford and regular not so happy visits to the Eye Hospital.
My year culminated in joining a family party of 28 people on Boxing Day!
What a lot of things to be thankful for not least the continuing care and attention I receive from Amanda and Mike.