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?".