Farewell to Jean

I`ve been `on the road` again,  to Cirencester for the funeral of my dear old friend Jean.Dickinson, a friendship that has lasted for over fifty years.   It was a right good do. One becomes a connosisseur of the funeral at my age.  It was in the huge and beautiful Parish Church with some wonderful music and poetry   The Wake was in the church too, which is a good idea for all the oldies like me who were there.      There were friends from all through her life, many I had heard of but never met, which was very poignant.      I have been having vivid dreams about Jean for the last couple of weeks and she is just as she used to be before the wretched Alzheimers took hold which is so comforting.

On the way back, I called in at my dear Russian/Cornish friends in Winchester with their five children, two of whom were born at the Quaker Meeting House where I lived before i came to Ditchling.  The children speak perfect Russian as well as English.  I find this amazing.

i`m off to the Infants this afternoon. Another whole lot of new names to learn. I had two Rubies, one Hope and an Otis in my reading group last week. All the children and staff use first names only at the school, so I am called Vick.

poems on a plate.

Brother P is staying and brought me a new book by Billy Collins called The Trouble with Poetry and Other Poems. So we are continuing our practice of poetry at breakfast. Such tender, moving and yet humorous poems, we both love them. I would like to meet Billy Collins as I feel I would have instant rapport with him. Also he sometimes writes about dogs and that gladdens my heart. In one, he works out that he is 420 in dog years which is an interesting thought, I suppose I would be 615.
P and I are just about to go on the Bloomsbury trail to Charleston, Rodmell and Berwick church all of which featured in the Life in Squares on the TV.   I have been round the houses before and they have excellent guides, but brother P hasn`t, so I will walk in the lovely gardens with B Wiggins, who I am glad to report has been a Good Dog lately so I have not had any further skirmishes with the Headmaster of Dumbrells Court.
I was a bit appalled by the TV version of Lady Chatterly`s Lover as the plot bore little resemblance to the book I remember furtively reading years ago, and what ridiculous hats Connie wore for walking in the woods!  
Brother P read somewhere that it would be am amazing experience to see the sunrise from the top of Ditchling Beacon so we both crawled out of bed at 5.30am and together with B.W, we drove up there,  but sadly it was a dire disappointment.    It was shrouded in mist and there was just a weak glow in the east.  Still we both felt invigorated by such an early start and were ready for a hearty breakfast, plus poems if course.  

Gloomy Life in Squares

I had always imagined that the Bloomsbury set had a high old time at Charleston (not far from here) painting every surface in sight and being liberated and creative, but not so, according to the recent plays on TV. They all seemed to be so miserable and tortured and had no fun at all.  But it was atmospheric and well acted and a welcome change from cookery programmes with everyone smacking their lips over slices of cake.
A midsummer inertia has overtaken me which is why I have not written this blog for so long, though do not imagine that I have been slumped on the sofa for the past three weeks doing nothing. I have been to a hundredth birthday party in Winchester which was a great occasion, Vernon is still walking to Meeting, playing his recorder and he has only recently given up circle dancing. There has been the usual Nibbles and Scribbles weekly sessions, the Impro Group and my out -of- tune cello playing in our regular quintet.  Also I went to a family gathering in Kew Gardens last Sunday and Oh the trains!  They kept being cancelled because drivers hadn`t turned up. That never used to happen did it?  We were packed in like sardines.  But we had a lovely day out and I really enjoyed it.
B.Wiggins is completely resigned to being muzzled in the hallowed precincts of Dumbrells Court and if he sees a gardener or a postman, he gives a muffled snort rather than a bark. I have had no more tellings -off from the Headmaster.   
I am enjoying blackberry time again. I am just about to go and pick some and make a blackberry and apple pie for when grand daughter Florrie and family (three little boys) come on Thursday.  What a treat it will be to see them all.