Sunday 29 August 2010

I have been looking for a choir since I moved here and nice P sent an email about a womens singing group in Hove. I went last Thursday and it was  totally unlike what I had expected which was a church hall with thirty or so assorted women.  In fact it was in one of those high white Regency flats on the sea front and I went up in a cranky antiquated iron lift to an extraordinary room full of religious pictures and buddhas and instuments and there were only four of us.  I liked it though, as we sang interesting harmonies and rhythms, African songs, a Leonard Cohen song, I think I will go again.   I am still looking for a regular writing and reading group.
I also went to help at the Brighton Meeting House on Saturday, several dossers, rogues, in and out of the garden and they have rough sleepers coming at night, and all the usual lot inside :AA, Al Anon, spirititual healers, I felt so at home with it all.      
It is Bank Holiday weekend and I always feel as if everybody else is doing something exciting.  I have just been lolling about all afternoon reading the Observer.   Some of my family are at a festival in the Midlands and they will come home tomorrow all covered in mud. 

Monday 23 August 2010

There has been an overwhelming response to my last dismal blog, with lots of cheery messages, so that I feel thoroughly ashamed of myself.   One of the snags of living in Ditchling is that there are hardly any buses and I had been looking forward to exciting outings to places like Eastbourne or Tunbridge Wells, sitting dreamily on a bus with my packet of sandwiches and my free bus pass, but this is not to be.  I try to go for a cycle ride most days but the hills are ferocious, and I can hardly even walk up let alone cycle to the top.
I have been trying to plan my eightieth birthday party which is a worry.  I do love parties and like planning them but there is always that fear that there will not be enough food or drink,or that  no one will come, or that they won`t enjoy themselves and when the invitation arrives they will say Oh my God, do we have to go? Grand daughter M is doing the invitations for me so the die is cast, have to go through with it now. 

Monday 16 August 2010

ditchling dumps

Well it was bound to happen.  I keep thinking why did I ever leave lovely Winchester and all my mates?  I had a visit from dear E and S on Friday, so perhaps that was the start, as it was so good to see them and talk and talk.   Also the my Brighton family are still away on the Island.    I have spent a lot of time on my own and I am just Not Used To It.  I wish I still  had a job, but who wants to employ an eighty year old with dodgy feet and ankles?   And that`s another worry.   Do I want to have a big eightieth birthday party?  Can`t make up my mind.  One minute I want to push the boat out and hire the Barn on the Village Green and have a band, or the lovely Art gallery opposite,or a more sober celebtration in the Quaker Meeting House, but the thought of making a dozen or so quiches and puddings is daunting.
This morning I went to the house of one of the artists whom I sat for a few weeks ago and played my cello  in a little baroque group. I did enjoy it and they have asked me to go again, but I felt I made a horrible scratchy noise maybe due to my dodgy arthritic thumbs.  I am resolved to practise more.
And I think I will try to go on some interesting free bus trips to cheer myself up.

Wednesday 11 August 2010

I wish I enjoyed train travel more. I know it is better for the environment, but I would far rather sit in my car with radio four, even in a traffic jam, than endure the vagaries of British rail, especially when travelling with a bike which sometimes had to be  carried up and down steps. There were babies crying (how I longed to pick one up and use my baby pacifying techniques) loud mobile conversations, ipods tinny music,other people`s packed lunches, nowhere to sit.  I was so glad to get safely home yesterday.  But I had lovely times in the Isle of Wight and Bristol. I managed the climb up and down the cliffs with helping hands (and also sliding on my bottom) and I had one swim in the sea. I love being with three generations of my dear family. Then I was in Bristol with son and daughter in law fron US in a beautiful flat looking over the river.  I saw two films which was a treat: Coco Chanel and Igor Stravinski, (visually stunning) and Inception which was all about dreams within dreams within dreams, a bit violent at times for an elderly Quaker but it was thought provoking , I also read two books while I was away: Little Stranger by Sarah Walters and The Other hand by Chris Cleave both of which I got totally in to and felt bereaved when I finished them.
Gordon is still mucking about in my miniscule back yard making a mess.  He always promises `it will all be finished tomorrow`.  I practised my cello for an hour this morning so perhaps that will finally put him off. It sounded pretty awful.

Sunday 1 August 2010

Since my last, I have survived : falling off my bike into a huge bed of nettles from which I had to be ignominously hauled out, walking to the top of Ditchling Beacon with dear D who came to stay, (it was very steep the last bit)  joining an Aquafit class which was in deep water with weights on me ( I do not think I will go again) and in the meantime I am still trying to chivvy Garden Wrecking Gordon who turns up for an hour or so on most days and creates chaos.  But he has soundproofed my back yard with a barrier above the garden gate so I forgive him.   I can now eat my breakfast outside in comparative peace. Also he is going to feed the cat when I  go to join the Darling Tribe for the annual exodus to the Isle of Wight.  Will I still be able to scramble down the cliffs for a swim at Compton Bay I wonder?