Preparing for Hay-on-Wye

The eyestrain is still a problem but I am coping. I have an appointment with my optician for Saturday June 10th. We shall see.

After the suicide bomber in Manchester security has been stepped up at the Hay Festival.  We cannot take my little pink rucksack to carry our waterproof trousers and hats and other things we may need. The weather forecast is good on the whole with only a little rain on Saturday. It will be hot for a few days, cooling down on Monday when we go to Pound Farm.

Yesterday I did my morning shift at the charity shop and then we went to Gunwharf Quays. We had a very pleasant lunch outside the Old Customs House and then went looking for wide-fit sandals. We did not find these so went to Whiteley. No luck there either, so we came home and  ordered them online. Dan went to take eggs to Sabine and to discuss our plans for meeting up at Hay. They did not know of his father's death. The funeral is set for June 8th. It will be simple, I hope. Two granddaughters who are close in age will contribute. Lucy will read a poem and Hannah will play the piano; I wonder if they mean play the organ. Neither of my children will be there, of course; our darling Katy is dead and we have not tried to find Neil to tell him of his grandfather's death. He mentioned once that he had "messaged Dad's family". I wonder if they will inform him; perhaps he was telling the truth when he wrote that, perhaps not.

I visited the nursing home on Tuesday afternoon. He had fallen asleep holding his beaker of tea. It had soaked into his shirt and a young female carer said that she would get a colleague and change it for him after I had gone. She would have done it right away but I mopped him up and waited for him to wake up. He did not, so I drank a cup of tea and went on my way. Dan had gone for his Tuesday petanque game.  I walked home via the Lidl supermarket but could not find frikadeller. One day, perhaps.

I meant to take a set of keys to Flat 18 so that the friends who live there can collect our post and put it on the dining table. I shall do that first thing in the morning. I have had my meal and want to go to bed soon. Most things are packed; just the bag that contains my skin care products has to go in my overnight bag. I am vain, I know, but Dan likes me to look smart and cared for. I have always taken care of my complexion.

We have an event to see tomorrow afternoon so must not leave later than 11 am. I have an alarm set because we usually walk on Friday mornings.  I have decided to get out one of my late aunt's rings for my great-niece. I think she will have to have the size altered, but I hope she will like it. We shall meet her new rescue dog and the six guinea pigs. We must find the pet shop in Hay and buy dog chews; we usually do this.

I am listening to an old favourite by Mary Higgins Clark. I have some new books from the Hampshire digital library to listen to. Extra books next month because it is my birthday.

Saying "Good-bye" again.

I am tired and have had no lunch, just a cup of coffee at the Southampton General Hospital. We intended to visit my father-in-law after the follow-up visit to the eye surgeon. Dan let his sister know and she told us that he had been moved to another ward. While on the M27 a call came in from her; his condition had deteriorated and he had been moved to a side ward. It was just a matter of time. Two of Dan's sisters, Jacqui who is the eldest and Teresa who is the second, were already there. He died about an hour after we got there, slipping peacefully away.   I think that this is the most merciful way; he might have hated a residential home.  I am glad, so glad that Dan had a good relationship with him since 1991, when his mother died. The wonderful Elizabeth contributed greatly to that, of course. She was a wonderful woman.

Dan has let some of his father's relatives know. Veronica, a niece whom I particularly dislike, may be too infirm to come to the funeral. Her brother Joe, a man I like and who has a particularly nice wife, is also in a rather frail state. We shall see. Their sister Maureen and brother Gerard might come, I suppose, although I doubt it in Maureen's case. She distanced herself from her family long ago. Pauline, the other sister, died of cancer many years ago. I never met her and have never met Maureen.

My son said that he had "messaged" his father's family when he learned of Elizabeth's death and his grandfather's illness. The two sisters were phoning their two other siblings and their children whilst at the hospital. Perhaps they will let Neil know. I could send a message on Facebook but he would probably not see it. I have sent a message to Dan's brother Sean's ex-wife; I sent emails but they bounced back. I did not know that she had changed her email address. Perhaps her server is down.  She spends a lot of time on Facebook so I hope she will soon see my message. There have been many kind messages from my Facebook friends; people laugh at such things but these same people were very supportive and generous when my darling Katy died.

I do not know whether to visit my aged uncle-in-law tomorrow or Wednesday. I must go before we leave for Hay-on-Wye on Friday. One of the two sisters will collect the death certificate and arrange all with the funeral director. Paddy paid in advance for his funeral; all is arranged, even the wake. I have suggested that his death is announced in the local paper. There are still people about who would like to attend the funeral as he was a popular man. Although he was a cradle Catholic, his funeral service will be at St Marks, the Anglican church he attended for so many years with Elizabeth.

Looking forward to Hay-on-Wye and Pound Farm

Last night I drank a half-bottle of rather nasty Prosecco from Morrison's supermarket. I think that I am better off without alcohol. I felt very headachy this morning but it isn't too bad now. I must try to do without Co-codamol as it is addictive. I alternate prescriptions from the doctor with over-the-counter tablets. I have been  busy today with a few chores. Dan has the gun club tomorrow and I shall do the ironing. We visited the nursing home today and I shall go again on Tuesday or Wednesday afternoon. On Monday we shall go to Whiteley for my follow-up appointment with the eye surgeon and thence to Southampton General to visit Dan's father. I shall buy him some orange chocolate. It will put a little flesh on his bones I hope.

We walked yesterday and it was very pleasant to be with the other members. Several people were not there because they had gone to see the rhododendrons at Exbury Gardens. We had coffee and biscuits as usual and then set off home. I collected my Austin Reed trousers from the dry cleaner and bought some low-calorie soup from Waitrose. We are very well-supplied with shops in this little town. There is Tesco, Marks and Spencer and Waitrose. I am a great yellow-sticker fan; I always eat ready meals on the nights when Dan goes out to bridge.

On Thursday we shall be packing to go to the literary festival at Hay-on-Wye. This will be the fourth time we have gone. We have bed and breakfast this time. Last year we had a tent and I was cold and miserable. I could not face such a thing again and it is very difficult to get bed and breakfast accommodation in Hay when the festival is on. We shall arrive on Friday afternoon and leave at lunchtime on Bank Holiday Monday. Then we shall drive to my niece's home to stay two nights. We shall meet Rose, the one-eyed Romanian rescue dog that has been adopted from the animal shelter where my great-niece volunteers. There are also six guinea pigs. Things have changed since the above photograph was taken. The dogs are Gizi,  the Hungarian Vizsla, Maddie, the boxer and Dolly, the Cavalier spaniel. Gizi and Maddie are both dead, Gizi from a heart attack at seven or eight years old, Maddie from cancer. There has been another Vizsla, a savage-tempered bitch called Hebe. She attacked Dolly once with the intention of killing her and was then segregated from the little spaniel. She was shaping up well as a gun dog but after an encounter on the Malvern hills with a boisterous Ridgeback, she became vicious and unpredictable again and it was decided that euthanasia was the only solution. I think that Angela is searching for another Vizsla; she likes to do her research. The weather forecast is good for  both Hay and Dymock but we shall take our Wellington boots all the same. We enjoy walking the dogs.

Gerontius and Theia

I am cutting down my time on the computer; just an hour or so a day now because my brain seems to have difficulty with the crystal-clear vision in my left eye that is the result of the last vitrectomy.

On Monday afternoon we went to Southampton General to visit my father-in-law. He is on the coronary care ward. He is skeletally thin and very confused. We got him to drink a mocha-flavoured Fortisips drink and some sweet tea. The staff nurse talked to us, asking about his state of mind. I asked her if, should he be placed in permanent residential care, would there be a choice or would he just be placed where there is a vacancy. She did not know. This is the province of social services. Dan's sister and her husband came and they spoke to me; sometimes the husband does not. I think that Teresa wants her father to stay at home but I do not think that such a think is possible. He is ninety-six and very frail, physically and mentally. We shall visit next Monday. The eldest of the three sisters visited earlier in the day. The youngest sister is a nurse and I am think probably that the hospital staff would be more forthcoming with her.  Teresa told us that David, their stepbrother, has lung cancer. This is so sad; I think he is younger than Dan and me. Margaret, his sister was our age. She died some years ago of liver cancer. She had lupus and suffered greatly with rheumatoid arthritis. I last saw David and his wife at Elizabeth's funeral. She was a wonderful person and gave Paddy, my father-in-law, twenty years of happiness and companionship. He met her through me, in an indirect way. My Aunt Marjorie liked Paddy and persuaded him to join the Over-Sixties club. That is how he met Elizabeth and they married a little over a year later.  I am glad that I helped bring happiness into his life.

I have to visit the nursing home; I did not feel well yesterday. I hope that my vision; well, not that exactly because my vision is fine; eye muscles adjust and the stiff neck and shoulder and headache leave me. It may be a virus. Both my friend Adele and my co-worker in the charity shop, Ethel, have had a virus that seems to cause fainting. I do get bad headaches. I am also seeing the doctor tomorrow about my ears. The eczema in the left one is making itself felt and there has been a little pain in the right one. We shall see. I hope that I have not let my husband pay thousands of pounds to exchange one problem for another. We shall see.

I have to go to buy a cake for the old man. I must not resent him. None of what has happened is his fault. I had to forgive him for the way he treated me after the egregious, God-bothering Estalls visited him at Steep House told him that I had sold his house behind his back.  They had been very kind to my aunt and uncle and done a lot for them. I suppose that it was obvious that he would believe them. I managed to keep my temper when Geoff Estall phoned me to tell me what he had done. That was a good thing because he died of a stroke about a week later. I told Bill about this and bought and wrote a card to Greta, the widow. I did not take any more phone calls from her. When she phoned on the landline or on my cell phone I refused the call.  When he finally dies I shall put a death announcement in the Southend Echo but shall not include funeral details. I doubt that she could get there or would even want to, but I would not risk it. I do not really owe her anything; I expressed my gratitude many times, gave her a bowl of bulbs and a china ornament as a memento of my aunt. Geoff Estall also kept on about a large key safe; we did not know how expensive these things were and gave it to him for his daughter, supposedly a nurse. I ascertained a while later that this woman had been killed in a motorcycle accident. So, Greta had lost two members of her family in a short time.

I am tired; the shop was not busy but the headache does not help. Time to go.

Sick father-in-law and dilemma

My father-in-law is in hospital. Dan contacted his middle sister to ask if the old man is fit enough to travel tomorrow and she told him that he has been admitted to Southampton General with breathing problems. The hospital will run many tests; it seems his chest is "crackling". That sounds like pneumonia to me.  I shall suggest that we visit him on Monday afternoon.

I know how desperately he misses Elizabeth, his second wife and my daughter's much-loved step-grandma. They were married for twenty years and together for twenty-one. She gave him happiness and companionship and those things are so important. It was because of that marriage that Dan developed a good relationship with his father.

I have chosen the above picture because my father-in-law's name is Patrick, he is Irish and a cradle Catholic. Elizabeth was a pillar of the Church of England. I think that at one time she considered converting to Catholicism but that did not happen. My late mother-in-law was a convert. Elizabeth was one of the best people I have ever known and a sincere Christian. My mother-in-law was punctilious in the observance of her religion but made me think of Martin Luther attaining heaven by sheer monkery. By the end of her life I had given up on that relationship.

My dilemma is that I do not know what to do about my son. He railed at me in a vicious, spiteful letter that I could have let him know that Elizabeth had died and that his grandfather was ill. My last communication (and I told him it would be the last ever) pointed out that he had not let us know his new email address and had told me to stay out of his life. He had sent nasty messages on Facebook about his sister's death and funeral. I had let him know about her death in a roundabout way. He had never bothered with her; he has never bothered with his grandfather, although I asked him several times to come to Sunday lunch and see his grandfather and Elizabeth. Has he the right to know if his grandfather dies? Would he want to come to his funeral? If he did come, would he make an unpleasant scene? I simply do not know what to do. I suppose that if Paddy asks for Neil, we must contact him somehow and arrange to take him to the hospital. I wonder if his father will agree to this.

We visited the nursing home this afternoon and I gave Sandra, the head of activities, a bottle of wine that we had brought back from France. She is so good and takes pains with the old man. He ate a lot of chocolate buttons, white and milk. He has decided that he does not like doughnuts and refused the chocolate-iced one that I had got for him. He had had a cup of tea and cake before we arrived. Neil used to visit him, sometimes with me and sometimes alone. What became of my good, gentle sensitive son?

Mild indisposition

Today we should have walked, but I seem to have what used to be called a sick headache. I felt so dizzy and sick when I woke up that we did not go. I am sorry that we missed it; I greatly enjoy our walks and seeing the people in the group. The headache lingers. I shall have an early night tonight. We have to visit the nursing home tomorrow and Dan's father is coming for lunch on Sunday. On Monday morning it will be my shift in the charity shop.

On Sunday evening I must write some emails. I am long overdue to email cousin Cheryl in Melbourne. I haven't got much to tell at present. There are no recent photos to send; I have sent the pictures of our bigamist great-grandfather's gravestone and that of his sister, who accompanied him when he left his family and went to Canada.

I am feeling low. In France we avoided the presidential election by watching DVDs in the evening. It is harder to avoid the forthcoming general election. I detest this government. My darling daughter lost her benefits when she was ruled (on a system of points awarded). She appealed and when the hearing came up it took fifteen minutes for the judge to reinstate her benefits and back-date them. What a waste of public money. It caused her distress. My poor baby; she was good and honest to the core and incapable of malice and cruelty.  My son used to be a good person but I no longer know him. He has hurt me and deeply offended his father. I suppose that he is still living on benefits; he has done that most of his adult life. There is nothing I can do.

I have been listening to my iPod but also catching up on television. I love the Talking Pictures channel (343 on Sky) and have recorded some films. I am also recording the series Secret Army from the 1970s. We spent about four years abroad in that decade, from 1974 to 1980. I seldom watch television now. I have never watched Big Brother, I'm a Celebrity or Strictly Come Dancing. Katy used to watch Britain's Got Talent when she came here to stay. I am unacquainted with Downton Abbey and watched only a few minutes of the first episode of the current Poldark dramatisations. I did watch The Moorside, the quite good programme about the Shannon Matthews case.  Dan enjoys the old films that I record. He also loves car programmes. We both watch The Antiques Road Show and Flog It!

In two weeks' time we shall be at The Hay Festival. We have booked a room in a bed and breakfast establishment this time. This will be the best accommodation we have had for the festival; last year was in a tent, the years before at a place called The New Inn at Brilley. The New Radnor Barn will be luxury. Afterwards we shall spend a night or two at Pound Farm as guests of my niece and her family. Angela is one of the few relatives with whom I maintain contact.

Nearly bed time. One more lot of eye drops.  Another painkiller for the headache. I did the ironing today, tomorrow I must polish the silver.  By the end of July I hope to have the dining room I have will have waited fourteen years for.

Coping and continuing to function

I am home for a few hours as I have agreed to work the afternoon in the charity shop. I went in as usual, taking the box of biscuits that I bought in Leclerc. I stayed for an hour or so and then came home via the health stores where I buy most of my breakfast cereals. I also visited some of the other charity shops in the town.

Yesterday Dan went to Alresford to play petanque as usual. I did not visit my aged uncle as my left eye is still sore. Around 5.30 Dan's cousin and his wife arrived. We had a very pleasant meal together at the local ASK Italian restaurant. Philip is a very eminent professor of astronomy. We have visited him in La Palma, off the coast of Tenerife and Cape Town, where he was leading important projects. He and Anne have twin sons. It was good to see them and catch up on their travels and activities.  Anne is a scientific programmer and they met when Philip went to NASA. She is an American from Dublin, Pennsylvania. We have an invitation to visit them in Oxford.

I had my second vitrectomy on Monday afternoon. It went well. I was not so heavily anaesthetised this time and conversed a little with the surgeon. During cataract surgery one is conscious all the time and can make conversation with the surgeon's team. I am now washing my hands more times than Lady Macbeth in order to carry out the regime of eye drops. I have antibiotics four times a day for a week and anti-inflammatory drops four times a day for four weeks. When I go out I wear dark glasses. The pupil of the left eye is still a little dilated, making the vision fuzzy.

I have some emails to which I must reply. One is from my cousin in Melbourne, one from an old school friend and the other from my friend Adele. She and I met in Kingston, NY in 1974. Our respective husbands were both assigned to the IBM plant in that little town in the foothills of the Catskill mountains. We would have got on well together however we had met and have been firm friends ever since. Adele separated from her husband in 1976 and has not  married again. She has come close to it twice but remains single. At my daughter's funeral my three oldest friends were present; one from schooldays, one from civil service days, one from IBM assignment days. I value them all.

The weather is getting warmer. It has been very cold during our absence in France. I left the warm quilt on our bed and am glad that I did. I think that I shall change it next week. Tomorrow is chores day; ironing and polishing the silver. My dining room is going to be complete sometime in the summer. I am looking for a little table for the living room and for lamps for the dining room. There remains one room, the smallest (or smaller) bedroom, that needs a new oak floor. Dan uses it as a study/ office. It still has the rather horrid carpet that was there when we bought the flat. This, too, will come to pass. Patience.

Home again

We arrived home last night, a little before 9.30 pm. On the outward and return journeys we got the ferry before the one we had booked. I have done most of the unpacking and some of the laundry. We visited the old man in the nursing home; he ate most of a chocolate iced doughnut and drank some tea. I shall not see him again until next Saturday as I have my second vitrectomy tomorrow.

Friends invited us for supper, which was eaten in their garden. We brought back cigarettes and Armagnac for them. One of them has given up smoking. His wife is resolved to do so but their business is so busy at present that she is smoking to help deal with the stress. I sympathise but I am fond of her and would like her to give up that habit because of the long-term health risks. While we were there her neighbour dropped in with invitations for all four of us to her fiftieth birthday party in September. It will be in the upstairs room of a local restaurant. We shall go if at all possible. If our daughter had been still with us, I think that she would have invited her as well. Katy loved a party.

Emmanuel Macron has been elected President of the Republic of France. We watched very little television last week because of the coverage of the presidential elections. Marine le Pen makes the dreadful Theresa May look almost human. Macron is, I suppose, the lesser of the two evils. We shall see. Our car was searched at Calais last night, by young French soldiers with formidable guns. One traveller, obviously annoyed at having his car searched, asked the young man if he was old enough to carry a gun. The soldier replied "I do not speak English". He was quite dead-pan. I admire his panache.

I shopped for clothes for my new great-nephew when we were in Vence. I bought a little two-piece outfit of denim trousers and top and a little blue-striped T-shirt. They are bigger sizes than the baby needs now.  My niece is going to visit her cousin and his family later in the year and will take the gifts with them. I have a silver articulated fish that belonged to my late aunt and shall send that to the new baby's sister.

We shall return to Vence towards the end of June. Before that we shall go to Hay-on-Wye and to visit my niece.

I am tired; time for bed. First I must lay the table for breakfast.