I just won a dehydrator on eBay. I’m so pleased with myself.
Little things, eh? lolol
Add to that the couple of Kilner jars I got last week and I’m on the road towards my food-preserving, self-sufficient dream. Well, skirting the edges of it anyhow. All I need now is one of those vacuum bag sealer thingies, with the plastic bags that are boilable.
Like I have nothing else to occupy my time with.
Seems I’ve spent the past gods only know how long playing catch up. However, for the sake of posterity, I shall do a quick precis here of the last week or two. Starting from about as far back as I can remember and finishing with today, funnily enough. Unless I get so sidetracked I don’t manage to finish this posting until tomorrow.
Last week -
Tuesday/Wednesday - can’t really remember. Calendar says Nikki’s but I think I was doing the headless chicken thing and ended up only being able to stop by for a superfast cup of tea en route to picking up Myf… ahh, that was it. I had to pop into town to pick up a few bits and pieces, the small ones didn’t go to preschool due to broken bones and snotty noses.
Thursday - Playgroup. Loubi’s 30th birthday. So I made her a cake, and we sang to her at snack time, and I think it kind of made her day. 
I like doing that to people. She said she couldn’t remember the last time anyone had done that for her. Then we all arranged to go out for a bite to eat that evening. I skipped belly dancing, as I felt so knackered and so crap, and just joined them for a drink at about 9pm. Got to pick at all the leftovers on the table - there’s always oodles of leftovers at an Indian meal. lol
Friday - went to the dentist, he mentioned anaesthetic, I dissolved into a pathetic heap on the couch. Must have been some kind of panic attack - couldn’t breathe etc, all very boring. Tears streaming down the side of my face into my ears. However, he was brilliant, and we ended up doing my filling with no anaesthetic. Was a bit sore, but worth it. I loathe that anaesthetic stuff. Went to pay the bill, one of the receptionists asked me if I was ok, and I promptly dissolved on her. Little corner of my mind going “pull yourself together you stupid cow”. Not that I paid it much attention. From dentist to home, packed, picked up Myf from school, headed down to my aunt’s in Birmingham to stay the night. Mom was there too. Played poker. Drank wine. Felt ok.
Saturday - went to DOC AGM. Had to stand up in front of nearly 100 people and talk. Sat down and shook for another hour. lol. Was a good meeting however - seem to have found myself working with a thoroughly decent bunch of people. There’s not one on the committee who I don’t get on with. Had a laugh and a coffee afterwards, didn’t really want to have to go back out into the real world. However, headed back to Mandy’s and retrieved small children. Back up the motorway home. Found a note from the builder. Apparently he’s got mumps. If he’s not careful, he’s going to run out of contagious diseases to contract before he finishes this job.
Sunday - Mother’s Day. Went to Cedar Court near Wakefield for big family meal. 25 of us there. Was shocked to the core when James’ mum was wheeled in in a wheelchair. She’s struggling with her breathing. Grandma invited Mom to join us for dinner which was lovely. Had a good meal and then wandered home with pots of chrysanthemums.
Monday - Didn’t do a huge amount. Pottered around with Mom. Had a vegetative day, as the small ones were snotty and we were exhausted. Went to the supermarket. It rained.
Tuesday - took Mom to the beauty clinic and she had a facial and pedicure which was my Mother’s day treat for her. Then I had a physio appt in the afternoon, so I left everyone at home and went to be poked and prodded and stretched by my physio. He suggested I go do Pilates, as that’s supposed to be very good for the core stability thing. Ok, says I. Filled up with gas, bought pots for my fruit trees and got home in time to cook tea.
Wednesday - Myf had a trip to the National Mining Museum with school. Mom left after lunch. I was so shattered by tea time that I couldnt even lift my cutlery to cut my food. Which is a pretty stupid sorry state of affairs to be in. Just sat there, staring at my plate, feeling like my fingers were huge, numb sausages attached to rounds of lead. Had a bath. Fell asleep in the bath - first time ever. Went to bed. First night in two weeks that Piglet has slept through. Tea didn’t though.
Today - Playgroup. Kind of drifted through it. I enjoy meeting the other mums and watching the kids play, but I don’t get the time to play with my own children. Tea and Piglet just entertain themselves. I don’t even get a chance to sit and sing with them at the end as I’m too busy running round like a loon tidying up. One session, I’d just love to spend the time doing the craft with them, reading them a story in the book corner, and then sitting in the circle singing afterwards. Ho hum.
Dinner time now. Fish fingers. Was going to make a pie, but we’re missing one vital ingredient. I’ve even made the pastry - that’ll have to sit in the fridge until tomorrow. Which is going to be slightly calmer - off to Nikki’s for a chat and lunch. No idea if Piglet is going to be fit for preschool though. If she is, they’re going and I’m going up the lottie assuming it stays dry. If not, we’ll get to Nikki’s a tad earlier. Need to plant some onion sets. Getting a bit late to put them in.
Saturday and Sunday are reserved. For the garden. About 6 weeks ago I saw how fast the calendar was filling up and wrote ‘garden’ in big black letters over April 1/2 and 22/23. Clever girl.
On Tuesday I need to drive down to Peterborough - Myf’s passport has expired and it’s going to cost me #83 to have it done on the day. I am not impressed.
And I seems my bloody keyboard has reverted to US spec - that should have been a pound sign.
Dunno if I’m too tired to go dancing tonight.
One of my pet hates is rudeness. And I’m not just on about my kids, who you’d expect a little rudeness from now and then. When you’re speaking and someone just wades in over the top of you and overides the conversation.
Someone asks you a question, so you start to answer them; but before you’ve got halfway through your answer, they interupt you and start telling you something more interesting about themselves.
So far it’s happened three times to me in the past week. I’m not that boring, am I? Somebody asked me how an acquaintance was. I started to reply, but before I’d got two sentences out, they’d interupted and started telling me all about how they were doing such-and-such an interesting thing.
Someone else just completely dominated the conversation to the point that I needn’t have actually bothered trying to say anything, as the second I opened my mouth, they put words in it.
And the third person even went as far as to ask me how the funeral went, then didn’t even bother waiting for an answer before ploughing along with their own in-depth life story.
Yes I’m pissed off. I like to talk with people, it’s a Gemini thing. But most of the time, I listen. I listen to everyone - always have done. To be honest, I think I’ve got ‘tell me all your problems’ tattooed across my forehead. But that’s ok. It’s the way it’s always been. But occassionally, I like to talk back too. Sometimes, lots (ask Nikki and Emily - lol). Lately, I’ve wanted to talk to a few people - but no ones listening again.
And seeing as how we’ve been deprived of an hours sleep tonight, I’m off to bed.
To recap, my weekend was going to go something like this:
Friday night - drive down to Charlecote (between Stratford-upon-Avon and Leamington Spa), stay in hotel
Saturday - leisurely morning, breakfast & newspapers, get girls bathed and ready to be bridesmaids, wedding at 2pm, afternoon of eating and drinking and dancing, stay in hotel
Sunday morning - breakfast, zoom back up M1 to Doncaster, go to christening for lunch, James into town to make up funeral flowers, me and girls home to pack bags, Myf to Grandma’s, me James and small ones back down M1 to Bromsgrove (via Mom’s to drop of funeral flowers), stay at friend’s
Monday - leave smalls at friend’s, go to funeral, go back after to pick up smalls, return to wake, then back home up M1, pick up Myf and dog, home.
Which is almost how it happened. However, we hadn’t bargained on Myf and Piglet having an altercation in the hotel room at 8.30am, which lead to this:
The red circle is highlighting the greenstick fracture of Piglet’s collarbone. She and I spent over 3 hours in Warwick A&E on Saturday morning, which meant we didn’t get back to the hotel until 1.15pm, which in turn meant that I had to bath and dress her, retie her sling, do her hair and also, do the big two’s hair (James had bathed and dressed them, bless), and then shower and dress myself. Which led to me rushing across from one side of the hotel to the other at 2 minutes to 2pm, with wet hair and a 2 year old who wasn’t best impressed with this sling thing she was having to wear.
The big two were beautiful bridesmaids though (glad Piglet wasn’t!) Myf did have a little episode and fainted right at the end of the ceremony, but that was a combination of heat, lack of food (in the panic over Piglet, they hadn’t had lunch - bad mother), excitement, and just sheer Myf-ness. She does do a whiter shade of pale very well.
Tea, bless her, was as good as gold and did’t do anything unpleasant for the whole weekend.
The christening was lovely, food was good and hot and lots of it, which was great. Piglet leapt into the small ball pool and promptly screamed fit to shatter glass. Five minutes of cuddling later and she was off again, albeit marginally slower. I don’t know how to stop her though. Some slight confusion over time and motion organisation led to me having to do half a dozen trips up and down the Bawtry Road, but it’s only 7 miles each way… however, we ended up in the van heading south at about 6.30pm ish, I think, as far as I can remember. Scrambled brains, anyone?
My beautiful, wonderful, bestest friend of old fed us when we arrived at her house at some ungodly hour (10ish?), made us tea, offered hugs and sympathy and a comfy bed. Then she made us bacon sandwiches in the morning and chased us out of her house before we could offer to wash up. All inspite of being 8 weeks pregnant and very sick with it. She sat on Tea and Piglet who, along with her 5yo daughter and 3yo son, all played beautifully and quietly and were just splendid the entire day!
The funeral was… Well, it just was. It went with military precision (apart from starting 10 minutes late, which created a great deal of tension-dispersing mirth when we realised that Terry had even managed to be late for his own funeral 
) A hearse stuffed full of flowers and four big black limos. The service was lovely, three individual readings, a very robust rendition of ‘Jerusalem’ along with two other hymns. Then back outside into the bitter, bitter cold for the walk to the grave. There must have been more than 200 people there - Mom was astounded at the amount of mourners who had attended. The grave bit wasn’t pleasant, as Mom hates the idea of burial (we heard all about her plans for cremation later) but she held it together enough to get back to the cars. Wake was great - lots of family and friends and the Welsh mob had decended upon us which was lovely.
But it was bloody hard too. Last time I sat in that chapel was 14 years ago, when we cremated my Nan. And my uncle stood up and read the same piece yesterday as he read then. Thing that got me, was the fact that I’d given him that reading a few days before Nan’s funeral. A college friend had given it to me, and I thought it was so lovely I’d shown everyone once back home. Paul is also a master orator - an instructor in the Army for 20 years, a real teacher. So his reading was just stunning. I think he glanced at the lectern twice. This is the piece he read, by Canon Scott Holland - it is taken from a longer sermon delivered in St. Paul’s on 15 May 1910, at which time the body of King Edward VII was lying in state at Westminster.
“Death is nothing at all. It does not count. I have only slipped away into the next room. Nothing has happened. Everything remains exactly as it was. I am I, and you are you, and the old life that we lived so fondly together is untouched, unchanged. Whatever we were to each other, that we are still. Call me by the old familiar name. Speak of me in the easy way which you always used. Put no difference into your tone. Wear no forced air of solemnity or sorrow. Laugh as we always laughed at the little jokes that we enjoyed together. Play, smile, think of me, pray for me. Let my name be ever the household word that it always was. Let it be spoken without an effort, without the ghost of a shadow upon it. Life means all that it ever meant. It is the same as it ever was. There is absolute and unbroken continuity. What is this death but a negligible accident? Why should I be out of mind because I am out of sight? I am but waiting for you, for an interval, somewhere very near, just around the corner. All is well.”
Two more to go.
Next weekend we have a wedding on Saturday, a christening on Sunday and a funeral on Monday. In Leamington Spa, Doncaster and Birmingham, respectively. The weekend after, I’ve got an AGM in B’ham on Sat and a Mothering Sunday lunch in Wakefield on Sun.
I think we’re insane.
Saw my physio today - he put me on the traction bed. A most peculiar experience, and I’m not sure it’s actually done me any good. We shall see.
Apart from that, it was back into some kind of routine. Myf to school, home to tackle the laundry monster that lurks on the landing, girlies to veg in front of Cbeebies… same old, same old. Except James came home early as he’s gone off to Holland on the overnight ferry. Will return Wed a.m., so I’m going to try and beat this playroom into some sort of order, as a nice surprise for him. And also, as reason to make him clear up after himself. After all, if I’m trying to be tidy, doesn’t that mean he should be a little more tidy too?
As it always has and always will. Which is good, actually. Silly little things help you get up and get moving; and whilst there are times when you can’t breathe for the tears, there are others where you find yourself laughing, and it’s proper laughter. And you know Terry would approve. And probably bollock you for crying.
We’re all running round like headless chickens at the moment - well, I am. Packing to go down to Leamington, Worcester and Birmingham, in that order. Leamington for 3pm to try on the bridesmaid dresses for next weekend, Worcester for about 5ish, to eat, drink and be very very merry with Aid and Jono and their four girls. And then tomorrow afternoon, after the DOC committee meeting, o joy, we’re off to Mom’s for sunday dinner. That was planned weeks ago, and Mom said she wanted us there. So there we will be. I’ve already sorted Sunday lunch - the chicken is slowly defrosting in a big polystyrene cool box thing, along with the ready-peeled-in-a-ziplock-bag-of-water potatoes, the sweetpotatoes and parsnips (James can peel those) and the veggies, the sachet of bread sauce (oh the shame - I normally make it from scratch), packet of stuffing, an onion to roast with the chicken - I’ve even thrown in two chicken Oxo cubes in case Mom doesn’t have any. I don’t want her to have to worry about a thing. I know she’s already made the blackberry and apple crumble. So whilst I’m discussing the nitty gritty of 4x4 land, James is going to take the girls from Worcs to B’ham, so he can watch the Grand Prix followed by the rugby (after he’s put the chook in the over), and Mom can entertain the girlies. Then I’m getting dropped off there in time for dinner.
Then it’s back home in time to put the girls to bed ready for the school run in the morning. Ho hum.
Actually, it’s quite nice to be able to blog the boring old normal routine stuff - makes a change from the doom and gloom of recent weeks.
Oh - and when I return, I shall blog more seeds….. 
I’m going to do that. Have decided. Might even talk Merry into doing it at the same time. Anyone like to sponsor me?
James wants to do this one, but we’ve run out of time for that. Will definitely be doing it next year!
Terry Parsons
Grandad, Uncle Tel, husband, brother and step-father.
25th July 1948 - 8th March 2006
Be at peace, and know you are loved and missed.
