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. 

 

Thoughts of Christmas

I have not blogged recently. I have done a few extra shifts in the charity shop. Fortunately Mondays have been shared with the person I like working with; Ethel, who has become a friend. We laugh together at some of the things that customers say and at the behaviour of some of our fellow volunteers. We have named one person Brown Nose and another Herr Flick. The shop  manager is in a difficult situation at present. Her husband has been diagnosed with cancer. The tumour is pressing against a lung and originated in the bones. He is going to take what she calls the shrinkage drug. 

Last Wednesday I did not work  because my old friends came up from the Isle of Wight. Owing to various operations (theirs and mine) and family issues, this is the first time we have seen them this year. They are the first people to be entertained in our dining room.Dan outdid himself with the meal and I opened a bottle of my birthday champagne for Anne and me to share. I seldom drink so much; we followed the champagne with a bottle of Prosecco. She brought me a belated birthday present; a beautiful lead crystal jug. Dan received a jug too, but his is silver. I was able to give her some toys for her grandchildren and a Portmeirion quiche dish for her kitchen. Like me, she likes Portmeirion goods.  

We have decided to spend Christmas in our flat in Vence again. Flights are booked already. The old-established airline Monarch went out of business a few weeks ago and we wanted to be sure of getting a choice of flights. I am looking forward to it and hope that we are as lucky with the weather as we were last year.  It will give us a chance to enjoy our new kitchen. We have to get a door and a plinth from Ixina in Vallauris to complete the job. 

Last Thursday we went to the Yvonne Arnaud theatre in Guildford. We took friends with us to see The Wipers Times. It was excellent. We don't go to the theatre at Christmas now. We always took Katy on Boxing Day or soon after Christmas because she loved live performances.  Dan used to get cheap tickets for Monday evenings at the Kings Theatre in Southsea; we took both children to see Bonnie Langford as Peter Pan. I remember Katy leaning forward as the curtain went up, eager not to miss any of the play. I miss her. I always shall. 

Dan has been too busy to go on the Alice Holt Forest walk. Today he was at the Citizens' Advice Bureau in Petersfield, helping to manage the project of moving the bureau to the library. Next Tuesday it is the Probus lunch and the talk is about the Severn Railway Bridge disaster of 1960. One more monthly lunch and then it will be the Christmas dinner. 

Today I was on the Southampton Heritage Photos page on Facebook. I saw a comment from someone whose maiden name I recognised. We were at junior school together. I hope to chat with her on the Internet. She was not a particular friend but I remember her as a pleasant person. I wonder if she has kept in touch with anyone from that school.  I have not; I moved away from the Southampton area in 1975 and shall never go back. I am too happy here in Petersfield. I think it's the best place I have ever lived and I never want to move. Dan feels the same. I feel pleased that he has such a good social life now. Learning to play bridge and joining the walking group were my ideas but they have worked out well for him. He shoots clay pigeons, plays petanque and is president of his bridge club. I think he will be chairman of the Probus club next year. 

I shall blog again soon. I am still taking painkillers. I found that Boots no longer sell the caplets I prefer but Tesco pharmacy does and I got some from an online pharmacy. They help me sleep. I use heat patches for my arthritic neck and bought another woollen shawl last week. I am growing old, as we all are. 

A Precious Picture Rediscovered

When our beloved daughter died it was comforting to have pictures of her on display.  The saddest thing was that I could not find her baby book, with her new-born picture in. I asked my husband's sisters to search the house where their father lived but nothing could be found. Today my husband was sorting out some old pictures that were in a box that used to be under a chair in our bedroom. Some of these came from my late aunt's house (the wife of the man for whom I took responsibility). She had kept the copy I sent her when our baby was born. It has been scanned and is now on the little marble table with the other pictures. 

It is some time since I have updated this blog. We have been to France, where we had our kitchen renovated, returned from there and taken up our usual life. Dan has been playing petanque and bridge and I have been doing extra hours at the charity shop. Last Thursday we celebrated our 49th wedding anniversary. We decided to go out for lunch rather than dinner as Dan had the AGM of the bridge club in the evening. We lunched at the Turkish restaurant in Bakery Lane. We enjoyed our meal; the food and service were excellent. We forgot that we had theatre tickets for the week before last and have decided to put all our appointments in our Outlook calendars. 

I enjoyed the last Probus meeting. The speaker was our chair person's boss at one time. He is a very important government archivist and he was very interesting. At the end we were each given a handout, photocopies of prints of Domesday book pages and a few other things, including the table of heights and weights to calculate the drop for judicial hanging. The next meeting is not until the very end of the month. One more meeting and then it will be the Christmas lunch. 

We have visited the old man twice since our return from Vence. The first time he managed a little chocolate. On Saturday he did not seem to be responding at all. Yet still he lives on. I wonder how many people will come to his funeral when he finally dies. I have planned the funeral, although I do not think that his family will like what I have planned. I think that his niece wants hymns and prayers. There is no point in doing this; he had no religious faith when he was cogent. I want my aunt to be remembered as her funeral was such a depressing affair. My youngest brother's wife has been very ill with kidney problems, supposedly caused by medical negligence in diagnosing a skin rash. I doubt that he will attend. Perhaps my niece will come, as she was not able to get to her great-aunt's funeral because of the weather.

We walked on both Fridays and are glad to be back in the routine. We are considering joining a Tuesday morning walk at the Alice Holt Forest. Dan will still be able to play petanque in the afternoon and I shall be able to visit the nursing home. 

I shall write about our kitchen renovation in my next post. 

Tired nerves and minor injuries.

I am feeling very happy about my home now. The dining room is charming and the little table from the Vence kitchen has been restored and is in place. The two chairs, bought not long before we put our Clanfield house up for sale, are at the top end of the living room with the two little tables we bought in the Barnardo's shop in Waterlooville. They look so good since their restoration. It is so pleasant to have breakfast in the dining room.  The window is a corner one and we look out on the junction of High Street, College Street and Dragon Street.  I am looking forward to when our friends come from the Isle of Wight and we shall have lunch there.  That will probably not happen until after we come home from Vence. 

I did attempt the walk on Sunday. I knew before we had walked a mile that it was a mistake. It was planned that there would be a meeting at some friends' house and the walk would be discussed.  Dan went to this meeting and the other couple had been and gone. Had they discussed it together, I would have  known not to go on the walk.  Dan said that I was not to worry; the walk would be a "gentle" one. From the time we met up, one woman was in a foul mood and walked on ahead of us. I regret not turning back and going home. I coped reasonably well at first, but at Ramsdean I slipped on a stile and fell. There was barbed wire on the stile and my left hand and arm were cut and scratched. I sustained a bruise on the left forearm and one on the left leg. When we stopped on Winchester Hill for light refreshments, Dan remarked that we were all being left behind. The upshot was that the wife of one of the walkers came and collected three of us at Exton and we all returned to Petersfield. I had a hot bath and changed my clothes. We collected the other couple and went to the Wykeham Arms in Winchester in the early evening. 

The other couple completed their walk. They arrived when the four of us were sitting in the bar having a drink. The female half of the other couple asked that we sit outside so that she could smoke. Our table was booked for a 7.30 dinner but ultimately we did not sit down until ten past eight. It was more important that the one smoker among us sat down again after she and her husband had showered and changed and smoked another cigarette. As soon as I decently could I left them all and went to bed. 

I know that there are business problems for that couple but she is an inconsiderate person. In the past she has complained to Dan about what she sees as my rudeness and he has accepted her criticisms and passed them on to me. When the four of us are together the other three tend to talk about their business and I am not included. I can bear this; I have nothing to contribute and am happy to listen to my iPod.  This is my rudeness, it seems. I have to accept that, despite the fact that I wrote copy for their entry for an award, I was not worth a three pound bouquet of flowers from the Lidl supermarket on my birthday. They tolerate me because of their friendship with Dan.  I have decided to distance myself from it all. I shall give the person who gave me the second-hand artwork for my birthday last year a present on her birthday in November and then my involvement ends. 

On Tuesday I went to the minor injuries unit at the Petersfield Hospital and had a tetanus inoculation. This now includes diphtheria and polio. A nice young male nurse administered the injection.  He talked about childhood immunisations; I explained that I am a year older than the National Health Service and such vaccination was not routine when I was a young child. I had a polio shot when I was twelve years old, because there was an epidemic of that horrible disease. I remember that we could not do physical education at school. There were no Christmas parties; all this was delayed until the summer. 

We had an invitation to a party for the fiftieth birthday of a friend of the inconsiderate friend. I put it on the bulletin board and fully intended to accept and go to the party. Dan had a letter about a hospital appointment and pinned it over the top. I emailed the party giver and we shall send a card and flowers. I am going to ask Dan not to blame me about it. 

Planning a funeral

Well, my old uncle did not die. On Saturday we visited him and he was fairly alert and took some chocolate. He allowed the carer to give him some tea. I phoned his niece in Swansea and reported upon his improved health. Or has it improved? He is still very unwell and very frail. 

I have decided that I shall pay in advance for his funeral and plan it now. I discussed it with Patricia and she agreed. As the old man's attorney I have the legal right to do this, but courtesy costs nothing and she is his next of kin. She lost her husband in 2009, very suddenly; it was a stroke and Brien died the same day.  He would have been the very person to write and read the tribute to his uncle-in-law. I truly wonder if many people will come to the funeral. 

Last Friday two people I used to know at school came to visit. They last visited in 2003, just after we had moved into our flat. We had a very pleasant meal at the local ASK Italian restaurant. I quite enjoyed it and was glad that after all I had not put them off. We had walked in the morning but did not stay long after; just a quick cup of coffee.  

My nerves are tired. I did go to our friends' barbecue on Sunday. I was planning to stay home but my husband persuaded me. The food was, as always, delicious.  The company was pleasant, although we were left to introduce ourselves to a couple we had not met before. I drank a fair amount of Prosecco and ate cake and cream. We got a lift home. It was the charity shop on Monday and a man swore at me over the price of a pair of shoes. It seems that after I left a bowler hat was stolen.  Stealing from a charity shop somehow seems worse than stealing from any other shop. 

This Sunday a walk is planned with those same friends. It is proposed to walk from Petersfield to Winchester and stay the night at the Wykeham Arms. I do not know if I can do this. I have been suffering from chest pains and breathlessness.  My blood pressure was fine at my recent medical examination, so there cannot be much wrong. I have made an appointment with the doctor for September 4th. 

Tomorrow we shall walk in the morning. I am looking forward to that. It will be a little practice for the trek on Sunday. It is twenty-three miles to Winchester. I am going to take the iPod and listen to the latest Val McDermid novel. There will be five of us walking and I do not get included in on their conversations.  Listening to the book will make the walk more bearable. 

I must write a note to my aged aunt. We have not seen her since my father-in-law's funeral, when we collected her and took her to the church, afterwards taking her home again.  When we come back from Vence we shall collect her and take her out to lunch. 

Something good is that the little marble and cast iron table that used to be in the Vence kitchen is now in the living room. The Ikea vase that I paid £1 for in the charity shop is full of irises today.  Many silver-framed photos of our daughter are on the table, together with a candle lamp I brought back from Vence. The flat is so pleasant now. 

Old age and false alarums

I have just had the medical check-up that seventy year-olds get under the much-maligned National Health Service. My blood sugar level was a little up, my body mass index is good and my blood pressure is fine. My husband came for his check-up at the same time. His BMI is a little more than it should be, but this whole concept is probably going to be reviewed. Muscle weighs more than fat. 

Last weekend Dan went to the Adventure Film Festival from Friday morning to early Sunday evening. I went out on Saturday. I seldom go out on my own but that day I caught the bus from Petersfield Square to Waterlooville precinct and met up with a friend. We lunched and then went to look round the charity shops. I got a very nice Ikea vase for £1. Waterlooville looks very sad nowadays. So many of the shops in the town centre are empty. We reminisced about how it was when we first knew each other, forty-three years ago. We first met in Kingston, New York, where our husbands had been sent on assignment by IBM. I think that we would have become friends no matter how we met. A little more than a year after she and her husband returned to the UK they separated. She nearly remarried twice but is still single and I think wants to remain that way. I went on to have another child and eventually to lose both of my children in different ways. 

On Sunday I should have visited my uncle but did not. I simply could not face it. On Monday evening I had a phone call from Lijo, the manager of the nursing home where he lives. She told me that he was ill and that the doctor had been sent for. There was talk about the old man being taken to hospital. Later the doctor phoned me and confirmed that I had signed a Do Not Resuscitate form. He said that old Bill has pneumonia and there was nothing to be gained by removing him to hospital or administering antibiotics. The nurses had diamorphine to give him if he was in any pain or distress. I telephoned Patricia, Bill's niece and next-of-kin in Swansea. She asked me to let her know as soon as Bill's death happened. Yesterday we visited him and he was awake but not lucid. Today I did my shift in the charity shop and Alex, one of the carers, came in with his wife. They do a lot of shopping in Sue Ryder. He told me that Bill had eaten a good lunch and was getting better. I do not know what to do; should I phone Patricia and let her know this, or just leave things. 

On Friday September 8th we are leaving for Vence. The installation of our kitchen begins the following Monday. I was worrying about how Bill's funeral could be fitted in before we leave; now it seems there will be no funeral. He is not going to die after all. It has been a constant source of anxiety, that he would die while we are abroad. I have planned the music for his funeral but would need Patricia's help for the tribute, which I would get the minister (or celebrant, as they call such non-denominational people nowadays). I have nominated a funeral director; the firm that conducted our daughter's funeral. I have let my youngest brother know about the old man's illness. He is my back up attorney and would manage Bill's affairs in the event of my death or incapacity. He has never visited our uncle-in-law. I resent this as Bill enjoyed masculine company when he was cogent. My aunt was very good to him and it was always understood that he would be her executor.  Why she changed her will is another story.