Friday, 28 April 2017

On Your Bike...

I am fed up with the cold weather. I have been walking around with a hot water bottle stuffed up my jumper.   I suppose one more drawback to being ancient and decrepit is that the cold gets into your bones.   Also of course I do not get enough exercise due to the lack of a dog.    I am thinking of getting an exercise bike and pedalling away whilst watching the telly, which is what brother P does. I have been staying with him for a few days to celebrate his ninetieth birthday, and he was looking positively rejuvenated due to his energetic cycling twice a day.   Sister J was there too so we three old siblings had a very good time together being provided with delicious meals by his family, and also he cooked up a full 
gravy dinner for us three on Sunday as well.   Not many nonagenarians could do that.
We had our usual fiercely contested games of Scrabble too and did not argue too much about debatable words with obscure meanings.
But as always it was lovely to come home to my cosy bungalow with no stairs. Though brother P has two stair lifts I always feel decadent gliding up and down in a queenly manner.

The election is such a worry.  I am glad to see that almost every home in Brighton has a Caroline Lucas Green Party sticker in its window, but not much chance of a Green in many other places
In the Guardian today there`s a picture of Jeremy Corbyn holding an anxious looking baby, Tim Farron cuddling a large dog and Mrs May surrounded by men in suits, none of them inspire confidence.   
I have just been to a history lecture in the village on The Edwardians, and though we may grumble about the state of the world now, it really was worse then, with the upper classes leading the life of Riley while everyone else worked their fingers to the bone in deadly fear of the workhouse.   And the meals they ate!





Thursday, 13 April 2017

Hot Cross Buns

Today is Julia`s anniversary and also grand daughter T`s thirteenth birthday.   Daughter J and family plus friends are walking over the Downs from Brighton to Ditchling (seven miles) for lunch and birthday cake and then we will read aloud some of Julia`s poetry and share memories.  J and I always feel a bit tearful and odd at this time of year so it is good to get together
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Tomorrow I am having a Hot Cross Bun party to which I have invited all the Dumbrellites.  As my sitting room is small I am holding it at the Meeting House,which is five minute walk down the lane. This has caused great consternation amongst some who on reading the words Quaker and Good Friday on the invitations seemed to think that it was a Quaker indoctrination ceremony and they felt unable to come, so I fear I may be left with forty hot cross buns and a large uneaten Simnel cake, but never mind, they can go in the freezer,

On Easter Sunday I am planning a picnic and egg rolling down Lodge Hill in Ditchling after \Meeting though the weather forecast is not good. I remember doing this on St Giles Hill in Winchester many times over the years. There is something about chucking painted eggs down a grassy slope and running whooping along behind them that I find very exhilarating in a ritualistic, heathenish sort of way.

Then at the end of next week, we are celebrating brother P`s ninetieth birthday with a sibling get together and also a family do.   .Sister J and I are struggling to write an Ode but we have used up all the best lines on his seventieth and eightieth, plus a few in between.

I have just read the latest Sebastian Faulks novel: Where my Heart Used to Beat. It is a bit reminiscent of Birdsong and is really excellent and very thought provoking.

Wednesday, 22 March 2017

Syrian Mothers Day party.

I have not written this blog for over a month, and I expect I am doing it into nothingness as everyone will have given upon me, but I went to such a heartwarming event last night that I felt I had to write something down.     The Syrians celebrate Mothers Day on 21st March as a national event.  Daughter J and family have been involved in fund raising for the refugees in Brighton and we were invited to the party. There were masses of children in their best sparkly clothes, adults too, (the Syrians do like sparkly) I felt a bit underdressed.   There was amazing live music,dancing and tasty food.    It was a great party.  I was so glad to be there and see how well they were coping with the difficulties and sadness in their lives    There were many Brighton people there too also who had taken refugees into their homes and and it was working out really well.  I wish I could, but no one under fifty five can stay in the old folks complex where I live.     

Ditchling has been celebrating the hundredth birthday of its oldest famous resident this week, Vera Lynn. She and her daughter Virginia live just up the road from me -in fact I used to go to Virginia for a foot massage, so I was particularly interested in all the shenanigans. I loved the programme on TV last Saturday with dear Vera looking very sprightly and enjoying life. She really is a splendid woman, going off to Burma and dangerous places to sing to `her boys` . And the songs, though sentimental do speak to the heart.
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Dear brother P  is just about to celebrate his ninetieth birthday, and that will be the next celebration, we are all getting so blooming OLD.