still no news........

I have been having a terrible time writing this blog. Twice I have inexplicably lost it just as I was about to press the publish button It really is strange where lost emails and texts go to, I imagine them all drifting sadly about in limbo. I will have one more shot at it as it is now after midnight. I am back to the soft south. I love going up to Newcastle but I could never live up there.I am a southerner through and through. But it was lovely to stay with sister J and have delicious meals cooked for me and gin and tonics plus nibbles prompt at six and morning tea in bed. It was good to see great grand kids,little Arthur and baby Ossie (Marlo was away)and also great nieces Martha and Ellen. It was Julia`s 57th birthday on 21st August so some of us went to Old Jessie cemetery and took flowers to her grave. It is a very nice grave. A stone bench with beautiful lettering (chosen by Julia) and it has some lines of her poetry engraved on the side. Well we sat there for a bit and I remembered all the birthdaya at the Mill in the Isle of Wight, and though I felt tearful,I was glad to be there. We went for a nice meal afterwards at Live Theatre, one of J`s favourite haunts. I read a good book while I was away by the Irish author Colm Toibin, called The Blackwater Lightship. I really like his work. The book has stayed with me for days as all the good ones do. I am now reading the latest Ian McEwan, Sweet Tooth and I am into it straightaway. Still no news of the b------w I can`t even bear to write the word. I am destined to wander over the face of the earth for ever sleeping on sofas and keeping my belongings in suitcases.

Off Up North

The solicitor reports that the new deeds for the bungalow are in a file on someone`s desk  in London, I picture a dusty Dickensian office with feeble shortsighted clerks with quill pens.    You would think they were preparing the Magna Carta.     I have given up hope of ever moving, so I am going up North to visit sister J and grand daughters plus the three baby boy great grandchildren. I am leaving B.Wiggins in Brighton as it is such a long train journey and he barks at men carrying suitcases.
I went to the Isle of Wight for the day last Monday. It took hours on buses, trains, ferries, and more buses and poor B. Wiggins got bored, especially when we missed a ferry going home and we were stuck on the end of Ryde Pier for an hour in the gathering dusk. But I had a lovely day and nearly went in the sea for a swim at FreshwaterBay.   There were lots of Darlings and friends and relations and I wish I had decided to stay longer.
I am about to challenge daughter J to a game of Scrabble. Along with the daily cryptic crossword puzzle it may help to keep the brain active. i read in the Guardian that two cups of hot chocolate a day improve the blood flow to the brain and prevent memory loss, so I am trying that too. I rather like it.
 

the long hot summer......

I  have delayed writing, hoping that I would have news of the move, but alas, the phone remains silent and I am left twiddling my thumbs, and feeling more and more puzzled by the delay.
In the meantime I have been away for four nights and action packed days in Kendal with dear friends D and M who took me to Grasmere for two poetry readings and to Brantwood, home of Ruskin where we sat in the drawing room with one of the best views in England, listening to a nice old girl reading from The Stones of Venice and other Ruskin writings. We also went to a Potfest in Penrith with potters from all over the world held in the cattle market with smells of the farmyard mixed with clay.  It was all so beautiful up there in Cumbria and I so wish I could still walk or cycle over those hills as I used to do.   
I am now at daughter J`s in Brighton, though the family are away on their annual exodus to the Isle of Wight. I am here with the quiet Japanese lodger and an elderly cat. Also B. Wiggins of course. I go to the Park twice a day with the latter and meet a different crew from the Ditchling dog walkers. Here they are mostly gay men with a sprinkling of old women like me.and  Wiggo plays wih a Great Dane called Eric, a pug called Moses and several lean greyhounds while the owners and I chat about our pets.   Back home, I cook for the lodger and hack ineffectually at the over grown front garden and wait for the phone call that never ever comes.......