Post-Christmas Gloom

How long it is since I posted in this blog. I have been busy; since Robin Nettle was diagnosed with stage 4 cancer, I have done some extra shifts in the charity shop. It has not been easy. Donna is not coping well and constantly nit-picks. She takes every opportunity to wrong-foot me and Ethel is finding the same. However, just before Christmas she did apologise and told Ethel just how difficult she is finding it all. 

We had an enjoyable weekend in Shanklin from December 1st to 3rd. My friend gave me a navy blue Laura Ashley overcoat, which I have had dry-cleaned and also had a small repair made. I wore it when we went to France for Christmas. We went out on Saturday and Sunday and saw Yarmouth and one or two other places. The Isle of Wight is a pleasant place. 

We went to the Probus Christmas lunch; very nice food, most of the company was good but we were seated on the same table as a very opinionated woman. Dan is going to be elected chairman at the end of this month and so we shall be on Table 1 for the next two years. I hope we can choose whom we sit with. We also had the Walking for Health lunch at the same pub; better company and the same meal. The following day we took off from Gatwick for our holiday. 

We spent Christmas at the flat in Vence. It was very pleasant and we were lucky with the weather again. It rained on Wednesday and Thursday after Christmas but was pleasant enough when we walked up to lunch at La Farigoule on Thursday December 28th. We only had one other meal out. We had come back from Vallauris, where we were chasing up some parts for our kitchen, and we parked at the Leclerc supermarket. We had quite a shopping list. Dan suggested that we have lunch out and I suggested the Restaurant les Baous, very nearby. We went and had a most enjoyable lunch. I could not finish  my pizza so asked for and was given a box to take it home in. 

The picture is of my father's youngest brother. There were four brothers, of which my father was the eldest. All three of his brothers predeceased him. One died in infancy. The youngest died in 1954 at the age of 36. The other died in Melbourne, Victoria, at the age of 65. It is the youngest whose picture heads this post. He had no children but was married to a very sweet woman who stayed part of our family after he died.  She married again and had three children, two sons (one of whom was stillborn) and a daughter. Her second husband was absorbed into our family and made a speech at our wedding. Since my mother died Ruby has continued as my friend and confidante. Lately I have noticed that she is getting deaf. Today we took her out to lunch. On our way to collect her we stopped at my youngest brother's house to drop off some watercolours that my late aunt wanted him to have. He said that he had spoken to her on the phone and she was "hard work". Yes; it is true that there is a degree of confusion. I think that he is exaggerating but the problem is there. I was planning to get in touch with my eldest brother's first wife with a view of taking Ruby to see her. Ruby is only four years older than Gaye and they used to be good friends. When I mentioned this and Ruby said "Which one is that?" I realised that I must abandon that idea. Gaye has multiple sclerosis and is very frail. Perhaps she, too, is slipping into dementia. What a cruel condition that is. 

Tomorrow is the first day back in the charity shop for me. I am not looking forward to it but needs must. I do not feel that I can leave while Judith is struggling with her husband's ill health. She was very kind to me when Katy died.  In the evening we are going to see some friends as it is the husband's birthday. Despite my resolution about presents Dan has bought him a bottle of Armagnac for his birthday. His wife's birthday is next month. It still rankles that I am not worth a present; a share in someone else's second-hand kitsch or nothing at all is good enough for me. I shall rise above it. 

My old uncle lives on, although one can hardly call it living. I have asked the manager of the home to let me know at any hour of the day or night if he dies. The next hurdle will be his funeral; I have planned a cremation (his wish) and a simple service in the chapel where my daughter's service was held. We shall see. 

Tired and stressed

I have been doing extra shifts at the charity shop and I find that I cannot do this the way I used to. I am working on my own behind the till most of the time and the deputy manager, who is in charge while the manager takes time off because of her husband's illness, is not good at dealing with people. She is constantly criticising and complaining. At the end of the shift there will be fulsome thanks, which in no way reduces the irritation of the obstacle course which she sets for the volunteers. I have been thinking quite seriously of giving up volunteering, but until the manager's situation is clearer I do not feel I can do this. It is only a few weeks to Christmas, when we are going away, so I shall grin and bear it. 

We had friends to dinner last Saturday. It was the second time we had entertained in our new dining room. It was a pleasant occasion. We drank the last bottle of my birthday champagne and ate fish, chicken, lemon posset with fruit and cheese. The others drank other wine with the meal, but I did not risk it. Only fizzy wine seems to agree with me nowadays. I gave the couple some little gloves for their grandchildren. 

We are hoping to go to Shanklin before Christmas. I have the same little gloves for two of my friend's grandchildren and would like to have them by Christmas. I shall never, ever have grandchildren of my own and so I like to give to Anne's. She has five children and eight grandchildren. Often really good toys and clothes come into the charity shop and I buy these; I get a good discount.  If my son ever settles down and has children I know that he will never let us see them. My heart aches for him. He must be so lonely and unhappy. I have unblocked him on Facebook again, but there is no activity. I suspect that he calls my mobile phone from time to time; there are anonymous calls that are in the block log. Next January it will be six years since he chose to fall out with me. I never, ever thought that it was a serious rift. Now I know different.

We are going out on Saturday night. I do not like going out at nights nowadays. It is not far; just to Lavant Street. The friends who came to us last week will be there and the husband of the other couple we socialise with. His wife has gone with a friend on a bridge weekend. The numbers will be made up to six by their next-door neighbour, the widow of a man who worked at IBM at the same time as Dan. She is pleasant and good company.  I shall not drink much alcohol. 

We are walking tomorrow. The next two Fridays we shall not; Dan has a hospital appointment on December 1st and is meeting and lunching with the personnel of the local Citizens' Advice Bureau on the 8th. He has been project managing the move from a building near the Festival Hall to the library. On Tuesday it is the monthly Probus meeting. Four weeks from today we leave for Vence. I am worrying, of course. The M25 may be closed or choked with traffic. It may snow and the airport may be closed. We may have an accident; the flight may be late or cancelled. I hope not. I enjoyed our Christmas last year. I would like it to be as pleasant again.