Thoughts from the Washing Line : Changes

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It's been a while since I've posted some Thoughts from the Washing Line.  But laundry still happens and I still stand there, hanging up my clean, damp and fresh-smelling linen, contemplating the world.  

This past week, there's been a lot of laundry - the sun has been shining, but the forecast threatens rain, so I've been washing things that I might have left until later in the week - or next week - and hanging up three or more loads a day.   It gives me plenty of time to think thoughts in the sunshine...  

Such as the way things are changing around here... 

Last Friday, this man turned seventeen. Somehow it seems a more significant birthday than last year. Seventeen seems more "grown up", perhaps more serious, than sixteen.   

James sat his GCSE exams this summer and the results came at the end of August.  He did really well and now has eight A*'s, four A's, a C (for Art which he chose as a relaxation and something different to all the academic stuff), and a Distinction (A^ - for his extra Further Maths GCSE), plus an ECDL/BTEC Computing as well.  That's a lot of qualifications...   

He started back at school a month ago and has thrown himself wholeheartedly into a busy VIth Form timetable.  He is studying five subjects to "AS" Level (A-level year 1 exams) - Maths, Further Maths, Physics, History and something called Extended Project Qualification.  

For the EPQ he must choose an area of study, research it, compile information and produce a "thing", such as a presentation, a paper, an essay, a report, a short thesis - whatever is appropriate.  It's examined at A2 Level (2nd year A-level) standard. As he had a lot of heart-searching when choosing his fourth A-level, between History and Music, he has chosen to study an area of Music for the EPQ.  

Next year, he will continue all but the EPQ to A2 Level and hopes to gain a place at university, to study Engineering. 

So, you see that maybe turning Seventeen does seem so much more significant.  He's nearly grown up. Almost A Man.  He even has a 'tache - almost -  and refuses to shave it off...  He's not always finding it easy, but he is growing up all the same and starting to look towards the world beyond school.   Time is whizzing by and I'm sure it won't seem long, before he's packing up his books, clean socks and various musical instruments and heading off to university.... Sobering thought.  

Oh yes, speaking of Musical Instruments - look what we bought a few weeks ago! 

James actually asked for a piano for his birthday - though I think it was a bit jokingly.  But we'd wanted one for so long and now we have a space for it...  Two visits to the piano shop, then it was soon delivered and we are so delighted with it!  I'm polishing up my skills again and James just seems to be a natural - he plays away as if he's been learning all his life, but he's never had a single piano lesson!  

Me and James are in love with our new pet... Dave is less impressed.  He wonders why we didn't buy an electronic piano, with a socket for ear-phones - for silent practice.  That's what he says anyway, but I notice he doesn't seem to mind much when James is tinkling away in the Music Room (formerly the "Snug", but there are nine instruments in there now...).  

It's proving a hit with visitors too - here are James and Keri-Anne last weekend, enjoying a bit of together-time.  The weekend before, we had some friends up from London and they - and their little girls - enjoyed bashing away on our piano too.  It seems that quite a few people can "play a little bit" and they're delighted to get the chance to make a bit of noise.  

The cake was a bit small for 17 candles - so a 1 and a 7 were found, lit and duly "huffed" upon...  

Happy Birthday James.  We all wish you a very successful and happy eighteenth year! 

And, now that James is in VIth Form, with no more black-trousers-and-blazer school uniform, the laundry I hang out these sunny days is a lot more colourful than it used to be! 

Thoughts from the Washing Line : Chronicle of A Typical Monday

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So, yesterday was a typical sort of Monday... and this morning, I was wondering how it is that I am so tired; then I remembered all that I did yesterday and of course, then it was obvious! 

 

I'm sure everyone has a busy day in their week and sometimes several; I know we all have extra-busy days sometimes.  So, I'm not writing this post as a way of moaning, or making it look as if my life is busier than anyone else's.  I just thought it would be an interesting exercise, to chronicle my day... 

 

Monday 28th April

5am:  Woke up feeling thirsty.  Got a drink.  Of course, I was now awake and it was getting light... but I wanted to be asleep.  Played a quick game of "patience" on my little ipod touch. Amazing how quickly that makes me sleepy... Remembered to turn off the ipod before I fell asleep again.

6am:  Mr LizzieMade got up and went for a shower.  Heard him pottering in the bathroom, but kind-of stayed asleep...zzzmmmzzzz...

6:45am : Woken by Mr LizzieMade getting his bag ready to go out, at the bottom of the stairs.  Time I was waking anyway - the alarm is due to go off.

7am: Downstairs (in my dressing gown!).  Feed the guinea pigs. Make breakfasts. Make J's packed lunch.  Start some laundry. 

7:25am: The Boy is still upstairs... Teenage faffing about, no doubt... Call up to him that he should be down now.  Boy appears, looking drowsy...  Feed the starving Teenager, who miraculously awakens as the food disappears!

7:30am: Sit down to eat my breakfast.  Chat with James until it's time for him to go out.  He goes to clean his teeth & get ready, while I tidy up our breakfast stuff.  (He usually helps with the jobs in the morning, but is running late today). 

7:45am: James trots off to get his bus.  Hug him and wish him a good day, then go to sort out some jobs.  Find the empty carrier bags from last week's shopping delivery.  Tidy and clean in the kitchen.

8am: Sort out the dishwasher.  The shopping delivery arrives just as I press the "On" button - good timing!  Delivery man leaves the shopping in the kitchen.  Unpack the shopping and put it away in the fridge, freezer & cupboards.  Re-pack the items that are for my mum.

8:30am:  Decide I really should get washed & dressed (!!).  Shower, clean teeth, get dressed, brush hair etc etc...  Find some spring shoes that I forgot I had (how can I forget from one year to the next?) and decide to wear them, but with trouser-socks, so my feet don't freeze. 

9am:  Pack up a parcel for the Post Office.  Check e-mails and have a sneaky peek at Facebook and my blog comments...   Read the nice comments about the prize draw I was running on my blog / Facebook page.  :-)

9:20am: Pack up the car with parcel and shopping, then head for the Post Office.  Sort out the parcel, then collect my mum's pension for this week - also for next Monday, as it's a bank holiday (she gets muddled if the routine is upset, so this way, she can still have the money on time next week). 

9:40am: Arrive at my mum's.  We are off to the dr's in a bit, so get started on the important jobs;  unload her shopping & put it away, hang out the wet washing in the garden.  Stop for a quick warm drink before we go out.

10:10am: Help mum with her coat, collect her bag, chair cushions etc and help her into the car.   Drive to town, as we have to visit the town branch of the practice today - the dr. we are seeing doesn't come over to my mum's village. 

10:30am: Arrive at the dr's.  Sort out some forms to register my mum for online prescription requests (to save me having to take a paper request form to the village practice, which is then sent to town the next day, for the pharmacy to collect on the 3rd day.... It should make the delivery a day quicker and save me remembering to deliver the slip - last week I forgot until Wednesday and had to drive to town to deliver it & sweet-talk them into treating it as urgent!). 

10:45am: Mum's appointment.  She sees a very nice lady doctor, who looks at the weird scab on her leg & decides to refer her to a dermatologist, just to make sure it's nothing more than a normal overactive area of skin....  Help shaken (shaking!) and anxious mother to the car, then explain that; Yes, the dr did say "Urgent", but that's because if she didn't ask for an urgent appointment, it would be over 6 months before my mum got seen.... No, it probably isn't anything serious, but the doctor wants a specialist dermatologist to see it, so they can be sure of what the problem is.... Yes, she is probably covered by her health insurance, which means she can be seen quickly at the little local hospital...  Phew!!! 
11:10am: Arrive back at my mum's.  As we are getting out of the car, we see a van that my mum thinks may belong to an engineer who's due (in the afternoon!), to repair her stair-lift.  Sure enough, sitting in the van is the engineer, who is writing her a note to say he's sorry to have missed her.  The engineer comes in with us and my mum sets about explaining the problem.

11:20am: Persuade my mum to have a sit-down and relax for a few minutes, while I make her a drink and a snack.  Make a drink for each of us and sit down too.  

11:25am: Sort out the list of items I had brought from the shopping; add up the total cost, which my mum gives me back.  Help mum sort out her weekly budget - money to be paid into the bank, for bills, rent etc, money to be saved up for other items - carer, cleaner, fish-man, hairdresser, bin-man, window cleaner, birthday presents, charity donations, essential new clothing etc etc... 
Also field queries form the repair man and help mum find the form from the recent service of the stair-lift.

11:40am:  The postman arrives and leaves some letters.  We go upstairs to sort out some jobs.  I re-make my mum's bed and take the old sheets downstairs, so they can go home with me for washing.  Stop to fuss the cat, who's sleeping on the bedroom chair...

11:50am: The repair man leaves, after telling us he has ordered parts to repair the stair-lift. Continue sorting out jobs in the house.  We have a bit of a sit-down to rest and start finding the information for the health insurance people, so my mum can phone them.

12:10pm: The Administrator arrives from the housing Trust.  My mother has some things to discuss with her, so I sit and listen, help with clarifying what she wants to say etc.  (Sometimes it is difficult for my mum to get the words to sort themselves out. I think it's a left-over from her stroke, combined with the neurological problem she already had. She has a stammer-type thing, which can be frustrating for her. Still, it doesn't stop her from getting on with things!). 

12:40pm:  The Administrator has left.  We call the health insurance company, to check the cover for the planned dermatology appointment. 

1:05pm: Lunch is late!  I go and put a piece of pie in the oven to warm up, then get potatoes & veg ready.  

1:25pm: Lunch is ready... but the pie turns out to be un-eatable.  It is very salty, my mum says (I tasted it when I got into the kitchen - she was right - what a waste!).  She can't go without a decent lunch, especially after such a busy and stressful morning.  Luckily there are plenty of frozen meals in the freezer (I make them up in batches, then we freeze them in individual portions, in margarine containers - how useful those are!).  So, she has chicken stew instead of pie and all is well.  There's a nice raspberry trifle in the fridge, because I bought it as a treat when I was in the local shop on Sunday.  Good idea for dessert!

1:50pm:  My mum has finished lunch and is looking more relaxed.   The washing is still out on the line, so I go and get it, then fold it and put it away in the airing cupboard.  Tidy the kitchen and check all is well. 

2pm: Phew! I can go home now... My mother says she will make her own tea, as she thinks I'm looking very tired (wonder why!).  I'm not sure, as she is more tired than me... still, she wants to try.  So she takes some ham out of the freezer to defrost and promises to call me, if she feels she won't be able to manage after all.

2:15pm: Arrive home... Head for the kitchen and find some food!  Make myself nice sandwiches and a cool drink, also some coffee.  Snacks for the guinea pigs too - they squeak in excitement whenever they hear a salad bag rustle!

2:30pm: Sit down to eat my lunch and read a book... While I'm eating, the doorbell rings.  It's the neighbour, to ask if I can take in a parcel on Wednesday morning (no, I have to take my mum to the nurse, then go to the osteopath...).   Finish my lunch and slouch a bit with the book...

3pm: Get out my laptop and start checking for shop messages & e-mails etc.  Answer a few e-mails, sort out some financial bits & bobs...

3:30pm: Feeling lazy... start sneaking around on the computer, looking at goodies on Etsy, Folksy and Facebook... 

3:45pm: The doorbell - it's James, home from school.  Chat about his day, then he goes up to change.  I offer to make him a snack, but he wants to do this himself.  He asks to use the computer for some homework and disappears upstairs again.

4pm: I'm tired. It's a while til dinner time and I don't have to go over to my mum's.  I decide to skive off my jobs and play a computer game ;-)

4:50pm: Phonecall.  My poor mum has spilt a glass of sticky juice on her sitting-room carpet.  She wonders if it'll be alright until Wednesday, when I could clean it for her?  She can't get down on her knees now, as she gets stuck - we discussed it only last week, so I know this.  I tell her I think I should come and help her now, as we don't want her carpet to be spoiled. 

4:55pm: Go upstairs to ask James if he'll start our dinner at 5:30 or so.  We have a visitor due in the evening, so we need to eat on time.

5pm: Drive off to mum's.  The spillage isn't too bad and my mum isn't upset, so all is well.  Mop up and clean the carpet, then drive home again.

5:30pm: James is making the dinner.  I make some drinks and help him to serve up the meal etc.  We put some aside for his dad, as Dave is due home at around 6.30pm.  We sit down to eat... nice dinner...

6pm: Phone call from Dave, to say he has only just got out of work and is on the way home; he will be late.

6:15pm: Phone call again... This time it's Jeff, our builder, who's due at 7pm for a meeting about the architect's drawings.  He is also running late and wonders if 7:30 would be ok, so he can eat some dinner?  That is fine with me (!), so he will be here at 7:30...

6:45pm: We finish our dinner and tidy up.  Put some coffee on to brew, tidy the table so we can use it for our meeting, find my laptop...

7pm: James is relaxing upstairs (painting models, no doubt!).  I sit down to play with my jigsaw puzzle... 

7:30pm: Jeff arrives and we chat while we get settled down.  He did the bedroom extension for us, in 2009, so we are glad to see him again.  Dave arrives home and eats his dinner, then we all get down to business.

9pm: Jeff goes home, after we've sorted out some of the details of the building work and set a provisional start date (May 16th !!!).

9:15pm: James goes up to bed.  Me & Dave sit down with the computer, to sort out some stuff for his business; he works for himself, but is now starting a Limited Company - we need a new bank account...

10:30pm: We are tired... bed seems like a welcome idea...

11pm: Falling asleep over my book... light off... zzzzzz

* * *

So, actually, I'm not surprised that I felt tired this morning...  That was a fairly typical Monday, though the evening meeting was a bit unusual.  Normally on a Monday evening, James has a trampoline club, but just now it's not running, as they are looking for a new coach.  At least the meeting was at home, instead of at the sports club!

What does everyone else do on their busiest day?  I'm sure many people fit in loads more than I do - at least I managed a couple of slouching sessions!

Thoughts from the Washing Line: Now it is September...

[Source] - Don't you wish this was your back garden?

 

 

Well, today is September 6th, but it kind of feels like the 1st - because it is today that James returned to school.

He is in Year 10 this year, starting his GCSE Courses (well, in fact he started many of them last year and has already done some of the assessments for Science). 

This morning he set off for his bus, looking very smart in his black trousers, blazer and new shoes (from the men's department!).  He had his schoolbag on his shoulder, sports kit on his back, sports shoes in a boot bag, sketch book under his arm.

I will admit to a few tearful moments, after he had kissed me goodbye and strolled off along the road, to meet his friends... Sniff... He is growing up so fast...

James, with his cousin...

So, where did the Summer go? 
As always, it seems to have whizzed by in a whirl - in fact, more so than ever before.  I am so conscious that my little boy is no longer little and will soon be busy with his own things - he won't want my company or attention any more - in fact, he often doesn't now. 

The summer was so busy, I feel I saw so little of him, which makes me a bit sad.  At least, this past couple of weeks, we have managed some enjoyable time together, going out and doing things that interest us both.  And there were a few nice days, dotted about, between the chaos that has been my life this summer.  I hope that James feels he had enough of my time, that I was there if he needed me; but I must admit that I feel I wasn't always...

I am sure that many (most?) mothers have the same problems, balancing "life" and "family".  In theory, I have plenty of spare time, to spend with James. 
In practice, it doesn't work out like that.  I have spent a great deal of time at my mum's, helping her with her own needs - sometimes with James, but often without.  There's also my business to run - I had a lot of commission orders this June and July, which spilled over a bit into August, plus a teaching commitment. And somewhere in between, there is a home to run...

She was not very well at the beginning of the school holidays - she picked up a cold (the one that James kindly shared, after picking up "foreign germs" on a weekend trip to Essex!) - which settled into a chest infection, needing antibiotics. 
We spent a fair bit of time traipsing back and forth to the doctors, getting a wound on her leg dressed, seeing about the chest infection etc.  And in between all that, I was busy writing the course notes for a one week bookbinding workshop in August...

Then we had a week at the seaside, with my niece, her husband and babies and my nephew.  It was a good week - very busy and lively, good fun. 

Poor James spent the last day in bed ill - we think he had food poisoning.  He was a lot better by the middle of the morning, so he and I had a nice, relaxed day at the cottage, chatting, playing computer games, reading etc.  Just as well, since it was chaos on our return home.

James, on his mattress in our bedroom. He's on the mend, but trying to "look ill" for the camera!

We got home at 5pm on the Saturday. At 5:15pm, the phone rang. It was my mum's friend, telling me that she had been taken to hospital that afternoon, with a suspected stroke.
The following week was another whirl.  Running back and forth between home, my mum's house, the hospital, making phone calls, running errands, doing laundry (being in hospital generates loads of washing!), organising things, looking after the cat... Preparing the materials for each day's tuition of the Workshop, in between all the chaos.

My mother was told she'd spend another week in hospital, as it had been a minor stroke, so we made plans accordingly.  Someone to feed the cat, friends to visit her in hospital, my sister to come on her day off, all laundry up to date and clean clothes ready for the week...  Then, quite unexpectedly, the consultant announced, on the Friday morning, that she could go home.  So I brought her home and spent the weekend looking after her, packing my course into boxes, running about...

On the Saturday, we ended up back at the hospital, seeing the out-of-hours doctor service; mum had told the hospital staff that she had cystitis - they even agreed that she had an infection, yet she was discharged from hospital, with an infection and no treatment for it. She hardly slept on the Friday night and was in great pain! Not impressed with the hospital! Luckily, a nurse from her own doctors' surgery was on duty - someone who knows her well - so she was able to give her a prescription for appropriate tablets.

The workshop week was busy and fun, but exhausting.  The children were great, I had a really wonderful student to help me, everyone enjoyed themselves.  I had no time to do much else that week, other than urgent jobs. Luckily, Dave was off work for the week, so he and James did stuff together and looked after the housekeeping side of life too. 

Some of my students, with their work (I hope to post about the workshop week very soon)

I could not be a full time teacher - never in a million years.  The more teaching I do, the more I admire those who do this for a career. It truly is a vocation and teachers absolutely do not deserve the rude, unappreciative treatment they often get and the poor pay, relative to the hard work and necessary knowledge and skill of their job. By the end of that week, I was absolutely flat out exhausted.  Just a week...

The week after the workshop was a blur too... I had an urgent commission item, that had to be despatched by the end of that week.  Busy, busy... It went in the post on Friday morning!  And, of course, there was my mum to look after as well. 

Aaaaand breathe....  That was four weeks of total whirlwind...

The past two-and-a-half weeks have been slightly less busy.  James and I have been out a few times - we had a lovely day in Cambridge, visiting the Sedgewick Museum, to view their collection of minerology, having nice food, wandering about looking at things... 
We also went into Bedford on day, ate lunch at Nando's, then had a good long walk along the riverside, chatting and relaxing together. 

Yesterday I took James and a friend to Milton Keynes.  We ate breakfast at Frankie and Benny's (teenaged boys are always ready for breakfast!).  The intention was to go bowling. I did my research and located the bowling alley, at the "Xscape" centre.. which turned out to be closed (building work, maybe refurbishment... don't know...).  There is another bowling alley, near the rail station, so we went there.  It was closed...  So, we came home and the boys had fun setting up a new game on their computers and competing to see who did the best at it.  Not quite what was intended, but they had a good time! 

And today, they are back at school. The familiar morning routine... and I am sitting on my bed, with my laptop, writing a blog post, planning my day - which will be busy as always, taking stock...

During all the chaos, with Dave's encouragement, I found a nice lady to help with my cleaning jobs.  It was just one thing too much and I was getting so discouraged, to see our dirty and untidy house.  At least now, once a week, Jan comes in and gives some of it a good scrub and tidy up!  One less weight on my shoulders - well worth the extra expense, I think.  So, she will be here at 1pm today, to restore order in my kitchen and bathrooms...


It is now September. The summer is over, though the weather is still lovely and warm.  I have closed my custom order book, for the foreseeable future, with only a couple of items still to make.  I've been working on some things I wanted to make, experimenting with a new project, trying to relax and unwind a bit... 

So, I'll finish this rather waffly diary-post, with a little photo gallery, of my most recent work:

Golden yellow, "Emily Bowyer" Liberty Print Guest book, with silk edge trim.

Coptic style binding, in matching linen thread.

"Strawberry Thief" Liberty print Guest Book, with shot silk edge trim. 

Japanese style stab stitch binding in deep maroon linen thread.

The covers and pages for both these books, were all cut out and waiting to be assembled.  I just had no time, but last week, I got on with them and listed them for sale in my shop!

"The Lake" and "The Forest"

Two felt-covered journals. They are decorated with fabric and leather pieces, hand embroidery, buttons and semi-precious stones.

 

 
The books have hand-applied embellishments, button fastenings and embroidery. They are lined with suede leather, rather luxurious!
They have hand made paper inside, with natural deckle edges.

 

They have a Longstitch binding, with bead decorations.

 

Silver button, semi-precious stones, leather and silk, decorative embroidery...

* * *

Meanwhile, it's time to log off my computer and go to see how my mum is. I made her some lamb stew yesterday, which we will freeze in single-meal batches, along with the beef and chicken that we did last week. She has less to do then, to make herself a nice lunch. Just heating it up in the microwave, then finding something nice for her dessert. One less weight on her shoulders too... Still, there is always plenty for me to do, so it's time I went to do it!

Thoughts from the Washing Line: Funny Things People Do

[source] - it's not my garden, but I wish I lived there...

The sun was shining yesterday, for the first time since Sunday.  It was a perfect drying day, so I was out with my basket of clean clothes, pegging away.  And I was thinking about the Funny Habits that People Have.

* * *

The other day someone (and I can't remember who - if it was You, please remind me!!).... posted on their blog about a strange habit she has.  She wondered if she was weird/strange etc.  I remember adding a comment along the lines of - no, she is quite normal, others have even odder habits. 

Such as my friend, who waggled his head while cleaning his teeth (and the toothbrush stayed still).  He put his back out one morning and had to crawl back to his bedroom.  Then, once he could actually stagger to a taxi, he endured a series of bone-cracking osteopath visits, to put him straight again!  

And then, the friend whose mouth made "cutting" movements, as he manipulated the scissors to cut - mouth and scissors in perfect harmony - "cuuuuut, cuuuut, cuuuuut....". 

The Register of Things that People Do, ranges from the very "normal"

- such as nail-biting; or always doing up your buttons wrong (you know, you miss one part-way up your shirt/cardigan, then wander round with a gap over your tummy for the rest of the day?)

 - through the mildly obsessive - always stacking the dishwasher in the same way (guilty!); matching the colour of the pegs on the clothesline (guilty again!); or always eating the same meal on a Monday evening (errr....)

- to the mildly irritating - always leaving something in the gangway, forgetting to shut doors, switch off lights etc (teenager at home, anyone?); or sniffing (I hate sniffing!) - not just because they have a cold, but always, as a habit - sniff, sniff, snifffff  

- to the very irritating and really rather OCD - like having to check the windows are closed, Yourself, even though someone else just did it, or else you can't go out;  or eating things in a certain order, always, because you have to;  or cleaning their teeth every time they eat (I mean Every Time or they might explode...)

* * *

And then there are the "normal side of weird" and the "just plain weird" things.  With a fairly fine dividing line between them...  

A Boy I Know, "has to" go up the stairs in multiples of 2 steps - two, four or eight steps. He goes up two stairs together, to make the number of steps up a 13-step staircase into an even number.

A gentleman in our town used to run a second-hand and antiquarian bookshop.  The shop was small, but it probably contained more books than the local library.  Floor to ceiling books.  Packed on the shelves, two or three deep. Piled on the floor, in corners.  Stacked up the staircase on both sides.  He knew Every Book that he had in that shop.  You could say "Have you got such-and-such-a-book, please?" and he'd answer, "Yes, it's just... here." - and there it was, just there. 

A lady in our town dresses like an Edwardian lady. She wears a straw hat, trimmed with ribbon and flowers, a long skirt, short jacket with leg-o-mutton sleeves. She rides an old-fashioned "sit-up-&-beg" green bicycle, with a wicker basket on the front, trimmed with artificial flowers. She used to catch the bus to Cambridge quite regularly - pretty much every time that I was going with my BF, to visit his parents in Suffolk. She always looked the same. As if she'd stepped out of a novel, or through a time-warp. Even her umbrella was old-fashioned. I saw her again recently. She looks much the same, just a little bit older.

* * *

People waggle their hands when describing something, they click their fingers in the air when trying to remember something, or blink disbelievingly and slap a hand over their face when confronted with a case of utter stupidity.

James' friend buys a coffee from the common room.  He drinks about half, then says "But I don't even Like coffee". 

* * *

It's Normal to Do Odd Things... people who don't have any odd habits, are really a bit spooky and strange.  We don't like them.   

People Do Odd Things. They really do. And that's what makes everyone so interesting really.

What about You?  What do you do (or someone you know)? 

Thoughts from the Washing Line: So, does it mean I'm a bad person?

Today was another good drying day.  I put the sheets out mid-morning and was able to leave them there until about 2pm.  So, of course, as I pegged away, I was thinking about an unfortunate affliction....

[source]

* * *

I suffer from a chronic condition.  Aside from my asthma, I mean.  I have a bad, ongoing case of Foot-In-Mouth Disease.  I suffer recurring bouts of this condition, causing me - or my nearest & dearest - various amounts of embarrassment.

Hmmm...  Like the time I was at my boyfriend's house, aged 16, for a family meal.  We had a big Chinese takeaway and it was lovely. A's mum, dad & brother were there, along with his grandma and Uncle John, who lived in the same village.  Nice meal, good evening... so, I helped with the washing up in the kitchen, along with Mum B and Uncle John.  Uncle John was drying up and he dropped a dish, which smashed on the floor.  Before I had thought about it, my mouth sprang into action (it's always doing this to me - my mouth speaks before my brain has given permission!).  "Never mind," said I, encouragingly, "it was an accident." - this being what our mum used to say, if we dropped a plate when we were small; I suppose she wanted to spare our feelings, as we must have looked so upset.  However, Mum B. did Not appreciate this....  who can blame her?  John should have been more careful... he was a "grown-up" after all.  Those were her best plates - a cherished wedding present.  John was in the dog-house and I wanted the floor to open up and swallow me.... Cringe!!

I have had numerous such incidents over the years.  The sort of stuff which, when you remember - which you can't help doing - you find yourself still cringing and sucking in your breath with embarrassment.  I've managed to forget many of them now (I suppose that as you grow older, some things are less important anyway, even if they were amazingly embarrassing at the time).  Still, it's just as well that I forget long-past events, seeing as I'm so good at adding new faux-pas to the list....

Like Friday evening.   DS had Trampoline Club, so I took him along and DH came with us, as he worked at home on Friday.   All going well, boy busy bouncing, me & DH playing games with his i-pod touch thingy. 
We got to the last 5 mins of the session and the kids started arriving for the next session.  One of the mums came and sat near us, as it was cold and we were by the radiator. 
She and I started to chat and the conversation got round to how the sports centre hadn't changed much, since she had been coming to use it as a school-girl - "a million years ago...", chipped in Lizzie - "... 30 years ago..."
And we got onto the subject of the decor - the paint is still the same colour - and how the radiators are still the exact same ones...  "We used to sit on them to keep warm..."
"They must have been solidly built," said I...

On the way out, DH said, "I can't believe you said those things! And I can't believe the other lady didn't seem to notice either."
"I said what? Noticed what?"
"When she said they used to come here when she was at school, you said 'A million years ago.'  Then, when she was talking about sitting on the heaters, you said 'They must have been strongly built.'!  You as good as called her really old and fat.  I can't believe she didn't notice."

So, have I stopped cringing yet?  I certainly didn't all the way home - no less because DH went on, and on, and on about it, all the way.... he thought it was very funny.  No use trying to explain what I really did mean...  Arrrrgggh....

Do they have a cure for Foot-In-Mouth Disease?  Anyone?  One of these days, I may just die of it, you know!

Thoughts from the Washing Line... (Storytelling Sunday 2012)

So, yes, I know I haven't been around for a month.  A long time.  Lots of reasons why, which I won't detail here; I have just been so busy and I think that'll do.  However, I didn't want to miss Storytelling Sunday (even though I'm posting this on Monday evening!), so here's my effort for the month.

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This morning I was hanging up washing - on the outside washing line, which DS had put up for me specially - having taken it from the corner where it was stored "for the winter".  DH commented that I should take a photo of the washing out in the garden, as it was warm and sunshiney today, which he felt was unusual for a day in early January ( I didn't take that photo - I really should have!). 

It set me thinking about the winters we have had recently (or maybe I should say "endured", when thinking of the two most recent winters!). 

This year's winter has -so far - been so warm and windy, with a couple of very wet spells. 
Last year and the year before, we had some warm and wet weather, but there were spells in December when it snowed and snowed, with freezing temperatures - and the resulting disruptions to work and school days, transport, postal and goods deliveries, power supplies etc... 

December 22nd 2009 

December 22nd 2010

December 22nd 2011

Earlier I was reading an article about the winters of 1946/47 and 1962/63 (both of which happened before I was born), when all of Britain was plunged into periods of sub-zero temperatures, blizzards and deep, drifting snow.

1947

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1962/3

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1963 - Margate, the sea froze over

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The previous very cold winter that I do remember, was 1978, when all of Britain suffered with blizzards and heavy snow.  The South and East of England was spared the worst of the January weather, which hit northern areas just after Christmas/New Year.  However, we suffered badly during a big blizzard in mid-February.

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That winter, we were living in a cottage, on a farm at the top of a hill, in the middle of the Bedfordshire countryside. 

The journey to school, in the town of Bedford, was a 40-minute bus-ride, along the main road, a mile from our cottage; the village was a mile and a half away in the other direction.  The farm was across the road and we had a next-door neighbour in the adjoining cottage. Other than these neighbours, we were very isolated, perched at the very top of the hill.   We used to walk to the village quite regularly, as there was a shop there; in summer the local school opened their outdoor swimming pool - for the bargain price of 15p each, we could swim all afternoon; my sister had a school friend in the main village too, so we would go and visit her sometimes.  We also went to a nearby church, once a week,  to practise bell-ringing, with some locals and girls from a nearby boarding school.

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The cottage had no heating - just an open fire in the sitting room and a couple of electric heaters.  The kitchen was equipped with an electric cooker (but no gas),  the bathroom had an electric bar-heater at the top of the wall.  So, that winter it was almost as cold inside, as it was outdoors.  We woke to a layer of ice on the inside of the window-panes, a bedroom so cold that it was painful to get out of bed and dress. 

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A bath was out of the question, until the bathroom had been heated up, so it was a chilly wash every morning.   That winter, for the first (and last) time, I had chilblains on my feet and fingers (I have Reynauds syndrome, so it was very difficult when the weather was so cold). 

The blizzard hit us in mid-February, when we were just about thinking that winter was nearly over (!).  School half-term holiday was on the way and we were looking forward to a few days at home, relaxing by the fire, walking in the fields, perhaps visiting Grandma in town.  However, on February 14th or 15th, we woke to deep snow and white fields all around.  Our mother gave us a warm breakfast and sent us off, to walk down the hill to the bus-stop, in our school coats and gloves, scarves and knitted hats.  I think we probably wore wellington boots to walk in, carrying our school shoes. 

The snow was pretty deep and had frozen hard (already!).  In fact, I remember walking along the lane, which bordered a paddock on one side, looking at the hedge and wondering how it came to be so small.  We sometimes scrambled over the fence/hedge and ran across the paddock, since the road doubled back around the paddock, making the walk twice as far as if we took a short-cut through the paddock (this was fine until the time the farmer put three young bullocks in the paddock... long story, but basically, one of the bullocks trapped my sister against a tree and licked her face all over, until she stopped shrieking and giggled madly!).  The fence was invisible and the hedge looked about a foot high, under a deep drift of snow.  The paddock was also deep in snow and looked level with the top of the hedge in places.  We decided that it wasn't a good day to take a short-cut and went the long way round to the bus!

We waited a very long time for our bus.  The main road was mostly clear (I suppose they had snow-plough lorries out), but the bus service had been very disrupted.  The bus did arrive eventually, but not before my Reynauds' had got the better of me.  Its arrival found me sitting on the edge of the kerb, with my head between my knees, no doubt very white in the face, dizzy and desperately cold.  My sister hailed the bus and explained the problem to the bus conductor - a lovely lady, who immediately took charge.  I was half-carried up to the top deck of the bus.  The kids sitting on the long front seat were unceremoniously kicked off, so that she could place me right in front of the heater, which was blasting out wonderful warm air.  By the time we reached school, I had thawed out (quite painfully!) and no longer felt faint. 

(the bus was like this one - photo by Boxley)

We stumbled into school, around an hour late.  About half the girls were missing - I suppose their homes were snowed in, or their parents didn't think they should risk the weather.  Lessons were not running as usual, since some staff had also been unable to make it to school, but we all struggled on, until a message came round, about 1130am, that the whole school was to assemble in the main hall.

My school - in summer!

We were told to go home; school was being closed and would re-open when the weather improved.  There was a long queue for the one school pay-phone and some of us were sent to the office, to borrow the secretary's phone. 

The bus usually came across town to pick us up at the end of the school day.  It left at 4:10pm - so obviously we couldn't expect it to be there for us at 12pm.  We all trudged across town to the bus station and were lucky to catch a bus that passed the end of our lane, as it went between Bedford and Luton, a very large town to the south of Bedfordshire.  The bus driver was kind and let us get off there, although it wasn't a normal stop; this saved us some of our walk home, for which we were very grateful, as it was snowing again.  I think our mother was relieved to see us and she soon had us warmed up again. 

I think we were off school for the rest of the week.  It was an unespected holiday and we made the most of it.  I remember going for a walk in the fields that surrounded our cottage.  They looked strange and unfamiliar, covered in snow and ice.  We could barely recognise our normal routes and made our own footpaths across the snowy fields.  Obviously some snowballs were thrown and I'm sure we talked about building a snowman in the garden of the cottage. 

It was an exciting walk; until my sister decided to jump into a snow-pile that she found.  A run-up, a jump - whooping with excitement.  She disappeared.  It wasn't just a snow-pile, it was a drift, which covered a deep water-filled ditch!  Obviously, once I'd fished her out, I had to walk her home very quickly - shivering, wet and a bit tearful.  Luckily the bathroom was warmed up, ready for us to have a bath on our return, so she was swiftly plunged into warm water and thawed out!  She didn't suffer any harm at all - not even a cold. 

I don't remember a lot more about that winter.  We were pretty much house-bound for a while, only venturing into the fields a couple of times (with more care of snow-drifts!),  enjoying our walks, but glad to be home again and warmed up. I'm sure we built some good snow-men (I remember being lent a hat and scarf by the neighbours and supplied with coal and carrots!).  Then the wind changed, the temperature rose and the snow melted.  We went back to school and life was back to normal. 

We've had three or four very cold winters since (1980/81 for example), but I remember that first one best, because after that we moved closer to town and had central heating; the chill and snow didn't seem so difficult with the advantages of modern technology (and friends whose mothers gave us lifts to school on snowy days).   

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This was my contribution to the first of Sian's Storytelling Sunday posts for 2012.  I hope it made you smile!