Back to the Soft South

Back from the wet and windy North,  to sun and blue skies in Ditchling. I have all the windows open and have had no heating on since I came  back.    The train travel was quite eventful as there was a tree blown on the line on the way there and signalling failure plus one or two other things difficult to decipher in Northern accents, and `work on the track on the way back which meant a double decker bus, hurtling through country lanes for miles in complete darkness for an hour.    We  filled in forms and hope for a rebate on our tickets, which we would then have to use for another hazardous rail trip  However every one is so kind and helpful to old trouts like me, helping me on and off, carrying cases up steps. and a young chap even offered a clue for the Guardian cryptic crossword when I was stuck.
We saw lots of Arts and Crafts in Lakeland including sheep made in every sort of medium.This was in an old Mill which had employed children as` young as three working from 6am till 7pm` I can`t imagine what work they could have done at that age, poor little things. The Mill is now a thriving art gallery and cafe with tasty food. We also went to Morcambe Bay, and the treacherous sands, and also to Leighton Moss an RSPB place and sat silently in a hide watching three mallards and two swans, but we also say Chris Packham (from Autumn Watch on the telly). 
BW is away with daughter J on a walking holiday on the Kent Way,staying at dog friendly B and B`s.  I am collecting him tomorrow.  It is very quiet here without him, but I am enjoying the lie ins for a change.   Friend C who accompanied me to the Lakes is planning to knit him a yellow jersey like his namesake wears. We went in to cluttered woolshops which still exist in Kendal looking for patterns. They sell masses of patterns for dog`s jumpers!
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The Last ferry

As I came home from the funeral last Friday, on the ferry to Lymington, I wondered if it would be the last time for me to do that journey. We first started going to the Isle of Wight in 1960 when the twins were babies. My beloved mother in law paid for us all to have a fortnight`s holiday at a hotel in Totland (myself, J, and four children under six).     Not long afterwards we bought a cottage in Yarmouth as we lived in a school house in Winchester. All the children learned to swim, sail, row,fish, and we walked for miles over Tennyson Down, cycled up and down the hills of the West Wight, pottered about up the River Yar, went crabbing by the harbour, and had some wonderful times. 
The place has changed in those fifty four years. There used to be a butcher, a baker a dairy and several grocers including one called Mr Higginbottoms. The shops are now art galleries and boutiques, the restaurants are pricey and houses astronomically expensive to buy or rent.  Daughter J and son C did have a sail up the Yar as a respite from all the funeral arrangements,  but the family ae not really boat-orientated any more. 
One of the grandchildren read Masefield`s poem: Sea Fever at the service. I was surprised that none of them knew it.  It was so familiar in my schooldays. It was very appropriate as J was an enthusiastic and able sailor for much of his life. There were other lovely readings and contributions from the rest of the family too. 
The vicar was most emphatic that dogs were welcome in the church so both Jumble and B.Wiggins came to the funeral and behaved impeccably.
I am off up North next week to stay with dear ex neighbours in Kendal, so I am brushing up on the Lake poets and looking forward to poems at breakfast.

'Hard Times

It  has been a sad and strange time for the Darling family. Ex husband J died after a fall from his wheelchair last Saturday afternoon. Later it was discovered that he had had a heart attack but it all happened in front of daughter J and grand daughter G on the old railway track in Yarmouth, Isle of Wight   It`s the place where we have always walked and loved beside the river Yar, up towards Freshwater..His end was sudden and painless so it was a mercy for him as his health had been poor for a long time and he dreaded the coming winter, But it was  terrible shock. We gathered in his small house in Yarmouth and had a chaotic few days clearing up and sorting out stuff, while J and son C rushed around seeing the bereavement officer at  the hospital then the coroner, the police, the undertaker, the registrar.Son T is away in the foothills of the Himalayas, Son W lives in Washington, so Skype and email have been a help. The neighbouring Isle of Wighters  have been amazing. Sudden emergencies and disasters bring out the best in people.  The funeral is next week so there will be another family gathering then.

In the meantime it was my eighty fourth birthday and there was a wonderful crop of cards and emails, many related to Yorkshire terriers.    Lovely it was, and I had a good day with a walk in the beautiful autumn sunshine.  

I also went with brother P to meet sister J at Stansted and be warned, they have changed all the parking arrangements. You can no longer park anywhere near and have to take the airport bus from a remote spot. They said nothing when I boarded the bus but on the way back the driver pointed to BW and said `You are not taking THAT on here`so I had to walk along a semi motorway with no pavement back to the roundabout.

Ditchling film society has started again. What a relief. I have been starved of films for the last few months. We had an Indian one called the Lunch Box , very poignant, a lovely film.