Beccles

Matt Harvey is a writer, poet, enemy of all that’s difficult and upsetting (his words) but above all a thoroughly nice person and we've been to see him in action on several occasions. Checking out his website earlier in the year we saw he was performing in Beccles, Suffolk in September. Now we always have a week away in the caravan in September and were debating where we should go when I saw Matt's site and suggested to Wendy we take a look at East Anglia, a part of England we've never explored.

Semi Retired

Well, so now I'm working three days a week only. Wonderful. A four day weekend EVERY week.

Because there are still holidays to be taken and I cover for those, I have only had 2 clear Monday and Tuesday off. I've felt for many years now that a weekend comprising just Saturday and Sunday is and has been never enough time to accomplish all those jobs that build up over the weeks and months.

April 2011

Sunday 17th April and we were walking for the day. Starting from the National Trust car park which was situated just off the A38 a little past Sidcot, it was an amazing walk with amazing weather. Click here for link to map etc., In fact the weather has been unseasonably warm now for a week or so and is not expected to change, even over the Easter Bank Holiday. Will we pay for this later?

Sunday, 3rd April and feeling very content and relaxed after a wonderful day at the Bristol Convention. Held at the Badminton School on the Downs in Bristol, the one day convention is an annual event and a great opportunity for me to meet up with friends I haven't seen since the last Convention.

Monday, 4th April. Finally got round to speaking to my boss about my hours of work. From 1st August 2011 I am working a three day week, Wednesday, Thursday and Friday. This is me winding down ready for retirement next March. I'm so looking forward to a four day weekend, perhaps now some of those "round to it" jobs at home will get done.

Saturday, 8th April, going down to Fivehead village hall to see Matt Harvey.

Wonderful evening. It started as a beautiful day. A Summers day in April. Clear blue skies and little wind made for quite a hot day. We spent a good part of the morning at Cadbury Garden Centre where they have a shoe shop and a chiropodist and Win made use of both. The rest of the day was taken up getting the caravan ready for its first outing of the year at Easter.
Matt was brilliant as always despite a reduced audience. The village hall soon reverberated to the sound of laughter as the good people of Fivehead heard Matt's humour for the first time.

February 2011

I'm trying to discipline myself to writing a regular blog albeit just once a month. I think I'll start it each month then, with a bit of luck and a smidgen or two of discipline, I'll update it throughout the month.

So what's been happening in my world so far this month? Well we've been to the Hen and Chicken in Bedminster where there is a Comedy Box theatre above the main bar. It's the second time there for us and we felt like old hands. On both occasions we've eaten there and I must say the food is delightful as is the service and, if you're there for the Cabaret, a 10% discount!

The Wondermentalist Cabaret is being recorded for Radio 4 and is a pilot series of just 4 programmes. They are broadcast at 11pm on Radio 4, the first of the series appearing on Tuesday 1st February 2011.

The tickets were free from the BBC and as I say, this was our second time there. The first programme of the series was recorded on Thursday 30th September







We were there as I say for a recording of Wondermentalist, a comedy-infused, musically-enhanced, slightly interactive poetry cabaret hosted by Matt Harvey, Poet, performer, enemy of all that's difficult and upsetting. I spotted a book of poems by Matt several years ago and was an instant fan. I admire and envy his ability to take words from the English language (oh, and sometimes an ancient Roman language) and string them together in such a way they baste my soul with audible gravy, and no lumps.













Sunday 20th was our Fellowship Walk and this month Ian, Barbara's husband and my brother-in-law, was leading us. He choose a walk starting in Castle Combe. There are some pictures here for you: Castle Combe Walk










On Wednesday 17th we spent the evening at the Bristol Hippodrome. We were there for a performance of Don Quixote. Performed by the Russian State Ballet and Orchestra of Siberia it was a ballet we hadn't seen before.

We were a smidgen disappointed with the production but as always the music and the stage lighting worked its magic and set the atmosphere perfectly. Sancho Panza was the star for us. Superb.













Sunday afternoon and the sky cleared, the sun dispensed it's warmth across the land and we swiftly got our walking boots out and headed off up to the woods. Surprisingly we encountered few others during our hike despite it being a glorious afternoon. We've walked in Court Woods ever since we came to live in Clevedon and is a favourite place for us. For many years it was a given that, following Boxing Day buffet lunch we all headed up to the woods to walk off the Christmas excesses. We always took a torch as we could guarantee getting lost and end up stumbling back through the woods in the dark.

A walk on the Quantocks

We had a lovely walk yesterday despite the weather. It rained on several occasions during our walk but never hard enough or long enough to give us a soaking.

Because of the threat of rain numbers were expected to be low and right we were. It was lovely though to be joined by Rhona who has walked with us once before, and her friend Katy. Excellent company.
It was a fairly difficult walk with a couple of quite stiff climbs, not least the last one! 45 degrees for a good half mile or so.

Eight do the Gower

It seemed as if summer had arrived. All week it had been warm and, knowing we were off to the Gower for the weekend, we were anxious to see whether it would continue. We need not have had any concerns. Along with every other aspect of the weekend it exceeded our expectations.

The cousins get together had been arranged several months ago. Christine and Michael organised the accommodation, The King Arthur at Reynoldston

25 years Sober

On Wednesday 19th March 2008 I celebrated 25 years continuous sobriety. I shared at my home group on Monday 31st March and read the following poem.

Keep Coming Back

this whole thing started with a drink

a drink that tasted nice

if I knew then what I know now

if I knew when and I knew how

I maybe would have made a vow

to stop and just think twice

although I drank for several years

with little ill effect

each week I drank a little more

and ended up upon the floor

and drank behind a closed locked door

and lost my self respect

So does your drinking cost you more

than money I was asked

of course not was my stern reply

the only one it costs is I

and life as it goes sailing by.

In ignorance I basked

the big book said that I was ill

I had an allergy

an allergy to alcohol

that made me drink and drink and all

the pain it gave me on withdrawal

was something I could see

I stuck around, keep coming back

was all that I would hear

keep coming back keep coming back

three words that kept me right on track

to understand and find the knack

of sober life, relieved of fear

the sober life is not a game

and can’t be done alone

so from my heart I thank you all

for easing pain both great and small

to beat my head against a wall

was all that I had known

so now today I'm twenty five

the years have slipped by fast

I’ve done enough each day I guess

to keep me from that awful mess

that alcohol would be my guest

I know I'm safe at last.

Nana's birthday, December 2007

A tough walk

Click Here for more pictures.

Up early and by 7.30am we were off. The rain was coming down like stair rods and it felt cool. I wondered if I had enough clothing and wet gear.

By the time we got onto the M5 the rain had stopped and the sun peeped out from behind heavy black clouds. The forecast was for heavy showers and the maximum temperature was given as 16°

Dave drove and we made good time, arriving at the car park in Porlock Weir by 9am. After a quick coffee and wished farewell by Maggie, we set off onto the Coast Path. It was 9.15am

Almost immediately we were accompanied by a friendly little pooch who went by the name of Mini (according to her collar tag). She took the ascent in her stride far easier than we did. It seemed that, for the first hour, the only way was UP! Eventually it did level out a for a while and those periods of level walking were the 2nd best part of the day. Getting hotter by the minute, I was now, one by one, shedding the many layers of clothing I had deemed it wise to put on at the start. My rucksack was now bulging with the following: the tea-shirt printed with the sponsorship logo, a roll neck jumper, a thick woollen jumper, a hat and a spare pair of socks. There was also a flask of coffee, a sandwich box with three rolls, a bag of crisps and a couple of cakes, a little glass salt cellar, a damp flannel, bottle of water, packet of apple juice, an umbrella (collapsible) a wet coat, leggings, a sun hat, 8 spare batteries for the camera, a book on trees, a book on wild flowers, a penknife and a multi tool kit. Not too much then! At least I was cool now but struggling under the weight of an unnecessarily over packed rucksack!

We still had Mini with us and she was a source of amusement as she chased squirrels and tried to carry sticks the size of fallen branches. At one stage she ran off after a squirrel and the next we heard was a pitiful howling. We were all somewhat concerned for her but, after much calling, she re-appeared, licking her lips and seemingly none the worse for whatever had happened. We reckon she had a go at a squirrel and he had a go back!

The walk took us past Culbone Church, said to be the smallest church in England with origins back to the 7th century. An so on, through Culbone Wood, out into the open again and we came upon Silcombe Farm. We had walked about three miles by now and still we had Mini trotting steadfastly in front of us, leading the way. Spotting the farmer we asked if he knew the little hound. He did not but, being a caring soul, put her in the back of his Landrover having taken down the telephone number on her tag and promised to ring Mini's owners and take her back to them. A little bit of faith restored, to me that is, for the farming community. Incidentally, Silcombe Farm does bed and breakfast and Geoff though he might return later in the year. Click on the link Geoffrey!

Onward and Upward!

After over three hours of walking we arrived at County Gate where the long Somerset hills give way to the rolling hills of Devon. An early lunch was agreed upon and we rested just down from the car park which, at the time, accommodated three lone cars. We sat looking out towards the Doone Valley. A light drizzle kept us cool as we ate but didn't, couldn't detract from the view. We ate mostly in silence, a silence we had become accustomed to throughout the morning. As Geoffrey said at one stage, he could almost hear the silence. I know what he meant.

We arrived at County Gate along a path that had, inadvertently, taken us away from the South West Coast Path and consequently a little more inland than we should have been so we set off now heading straight down towards the coast and the cliffs. It's now 1.15pm and we've been going for 4 hours.

We are not Stupid! We have learned now that, for every step in a downwards direction, there will need to be a step in an Upwards direction, at least until we arrive at Countisbury Hill, then it's all downhill from there on. So off we go. Down! And of course, that's how it is for the next few miles. One Combe after another. In compensation however this was followed by a long stretch of relatively flat walking and we were able to make up some time. Our original ETA at Lynmouth was, what we thought, a generous 3.30pm. This was now revised to 4.30pm.

We're on the homeward stretch now. It's 2.30pm and Dave has a small blister. He stops to put a plaster over it and Geoff and I snatch the opportunity for a brief rest. The sun is out, the clouds hanging over the Welsh coast are spectacular and we've got just 4 miles to go! They turn out to be probably the toughest 4 miles we've walked for many a year.

We head off, round The Foreland and up Butter Hill in the direction of Countisbury. That last long pull up to Countisbury takes every bit of will power and strength left in us. Well, in Geoff and me that is. Dave was our beacon and we just put our heads down and followed. I'm not too bad on the UPS, it's the DOWNS that hurt me. By now my knees were giving me some pain and by the time we reached the top of Countisbury Hill the exhilaration of finishing the climbing was tempered by the thought of having to walk down hill for about a mile. But, with the help and companionship of my friends I made it, albeit with a bump at the end!

It was a delight to see Maggie waiting for us and we promptly sat ourselves down at a cafe table, ordered coffees, scones and jam with lashings of cream, content and with a sense of achievement. We did it. Who needs a Bus Pass! Thanks chaps for your support.

Walking for children

A superb day, one of those special days you know you couldn't repeat.

Some time ago Barbara rang and asked if we would be interested in an 8 mile walk around Bristol for a children's charity. We agreed straight away.

Barbara was coming with two friends, Wendy and Leslie and we arranged to meet at Avonmouth, on the A4 heading into Bristol. We agreed to meet at 9am but, being a bank holiday weekend the traffic was heavier than anticipated and Barbie and crew didn't arrive until 10am so, instead of using the Park & Ride, we set off into the city to park at the carpark behind @Bristol. Note: Park & Ride £1, parking for the day at @Bristol, £8!

We parked up ok and went off into the square to register. After an early comfort break we set off over Millenium Bridge (I think that's its name, you know, the one with the horns!)

The walk started as follows:

Arnolfini, The Ostritch, The Coliseum (aka The Merchant Venturer), St. Mary Redcliffe, Queens Square and into King Street and the Old Duke reviving memories of hot nights, tight squeezes and great jazz. On then to the old castle, down Union St, back up Broad St and into Corn St. We browsed the market there then spent some time inside St Nicholas Street Market where we bought some amazing olives and Barbara nearly bought a watch! On to Bristol Cathedral.

From there we made our way up Jacobs Wells Road then up Constitution Hill (which brought a rosy glow to 5 pairs of cheeks) and so into Clifton.

Into Goldney Avenue and round the west side of Clifton via Sion Hill until we came to the Suspension Bridge. By now it was around 1.30pm and we were getting hungry so we stopped here for lunch.

Over the bridge then back over and up to the Observatory. It was quite dull now so we decided not to go in to see the camera obscura but to risk £1 to go down to St. Vincent's cave. Barbie didn't make it all the way. Wonderful view over the Portway and the river. See here for more information.

From the bridge the route took us into Clifton Village and we just meandered amongst the shops eventually stopping for a cup of tea. Then through a park and back down Constitution Hill and so back to Millenium square.

The walk was supposed to be 8 miles but we reckon slightly less than that. There were not many on the walk we think partly because Bristol Rovers were playing at Wembly and an estimated 30,000 fans had set off earlier that day. The rest were probably staying home to watch the game on tv.

As we arrived back in the square, it started to rain. Perfect timing.

Gower eight are formed

A gathering of the Wirdnam clan. On the afternoon of Sunday 10th September the families of the Wirdnam's and Beach's gathered to celebrate Aunty Dorothy's 80th birthday.

For Wendy and I however the day had started much earlier. Plans had been in place for a couple of months for our walking group to catch the first Severn Bore of the Autumn then head off into the Forest of Dean for a walk. The Bore was scheduled for 10.33am but, given certain conditions, could arrive an hour either side of that and so the plan was to be at Minsterworth for 9.30am. We agreed to meet at Michael Wood Services at 8.45 which for us meant tumbling out of bed at 6.15am, a time I'm only familiar with Monday through Friday!

On arrival at Minsterworth we found, to our agreeable surprise, there was a dedicated car park just for Bore viewers and on the main A48, just 5 minutes walk from the river bank. The car park was alongside the Village hall and, although there was no charge, a contribution to the Village Hall Funds would be appreciated. Dave, bless him, did the honours for all whilst Alistair shared a bag of doughnuts with us.

Talking to a couple of Stewards there we soon learnt that the bore would more than likely be late as the weather was so calm and still, in fact it could be up to 20 minutes behind it's scheduled time.

We took up our position on the river bank along with an accumulating crowd eventually amounting to something in excess of 100 people. Peter H was unable to make it but the usual good folk were there, Yvonne and Alistair, Sue and Pat, Maggie, Dave, Midge and of course us two.

It was a perfect early autumn morning. Clear blue sky, a little mist in the low lying areas as we sped up the M5 towards Gloucester, and the river was as flat and and as calm as a fitness fanatic Buddhists stomach. UNTIL...... a speed boat came roaring past disturbing not only the equilibrium of the river but of the watchers too! First resentment of the day.

We waited patiently in the increasing heat of the sun until around 10.55am when we realised, from the movement of the people further upstream, that the arrival of the Bore was imminent. And so it was, preceded regrettably by the annoying speed boat which disturbed the calm earlier and, to our increasing fury, two other boats and a pack of jet skis, all drowning out any natural sound created by the bore as it slopped and slapped its way along the river bank.

As conditions were so calm the bore itself was just a giant swell. It had no crest to it but was impressive by its shear size of swell, as if a submerged whale was making its way up stream. It rolled past us in seconds. What was interesting also was to see the debris it brought with it. Pat spotted a rhinoceros, Dave a crocodile while most of us saw water monsters of varying shapes and sizes.

The watchers dispersed fairly quickly once the bore had passed and we too made our way back to the car park where we said our goodbyes and headed off in the direction of Swindon and the 80th birthday party.

Having breakfasted early we were by now quite hungry so we diverted off the A417, went into Cirencester where we had lunch at The Fleece.

And so to Swindon. Unable to break a lifelong habit, I duly left the RAC Routemaster print-out of directions at home on my desk but I knew roughly where we were heading for. Following a tour of the industrial area of northern Swindon and several three point turns later, we found ourselves at the required spot. By now it was 2 o'clock and we were curious as to what stage the party would be at. Would they be dancing now, or still eating? would some have drifted away, would anyone realise we weren't there?

We arrived to find Barbara and Ian sat out in the sun having a quick cigarette so we were able to get the lowdown on the situation before making our entrance.

On entering we were greeted by Janey and Aunt Dorothy. To our consternation we saw an overwhelming sea of faces, some known some strangers to be continued................

Elks in Oxford

On Saturday 19th August 2006 the Elks met for the weekend at an hotel in Oxford.

Wendy and I set off from home around 12 noon having decided to take the unglamorous route which is M5, M4, A34.

Traffic was mainly southbound it being the Bank Holiday next weekend and we had a pretty good run achieving penalty point speeds for most of the journey.

Stopping at Chievely services, which resembled a cattle market on a busy Monday morning, we joined the herd for a brief visit to the facilities before beating a hasty retreat back to the car.

As we arrived in the carpark of the Hawkwell House Hotel so did Adrian and Ali and Barbara and Ian. Perfect timing.

We booked in and made for our rooms, agreeing to meet in the bar in an hour or so's time.

By 3pm we were occupying a fair size corner of the lounge bar and had arranged the tables and chairs to suit. Rounds of drinks were bought and consumed and stories told amid much hilarity. Eventually Marian and Ian arrived and joined in the jollity. An entertaining and enjoyable couple of hours passed until it was generally agreed we should rest and change for dinner. We agreed to meet up in the bar for dinner at 7.30pm

Well, we met up and had, what was for Wendy and I, a rather mediocre meal. Unfortunately we were seated at one long table which restricted the conversation to immediate opposites and those on either side. Following pudding and a slight disagreement with the hotels interpretation of a cheese board we adjourned to the lounge for coffee and more chatter. Disappointingly the sparkle that ran through the pre-dinner get-together had disappeared although it was good to catch up on family news and we all had a few laughs.

An enjoyable breakfast the following morning included such highlights as tinned figs, huge prunes and powdered? eggs! Then, with bags packed and bills paid, we met up again in the lounge for coffee prior to our departure.

Getting away around 12 noon we had decided to take a more scenic route home. We picked up the A417 which took us across the Cotswolds and headed for Cirencester where, after a stroll around the town centre, we had lunch at The Fleece in the High Street.

Home around 5pm, tired and a little disappointed but grateful to Barbara for organising the event.

Our darling Benjamin

We arrived home from holiday to find Benjamin a lot thinner than when we left. We had changed his food recently and assumed the dried food he was now on was keeping him trim. Now he seemed listless and looked decidedly unwell so on Saturday morning we took him to the vet. We saw David Harvey and he gave Ben a thorough feeling over and listened to his lungs and heart and couldn't find anything obviously wrong but said he would like a blood test done.

On Monday Win took Ben up to vets and left him for a blood test. Beccie collected him later, some mix up over when he was ready to be collected.

On the Tuesday Win took a phone call from the vet to say Ben had acute renal failure, there was no cure but there were some tablets we could give him that would ease his discomfort.

We spent the next three weeks experimenting with different ways of getting a tablet inside the little blighter. Win bought a variety of foods including tuna, sardines, a dozen or so of different chicken and beef catfoods plus some crunchie treats. We tried to hide half a tablet in pieces of meat or tuna but he always sniffed out the one with the tablet in and of course left it on the side of his plate.

In desperation I searched the internet and found a page, in fact several pages, of advice on getting medication into an animal. American mostly but just as applicable here as there. One suggestion was to grind the tablet to a fine powder, mix it into a knob of butter and put it on the animals paws. This proved to be our number one method and most of the time we were able to get the majority of the butter into his mouth before he knew what was happening. Now Benjamin always liked butter, we used to put the butter paper down for him to lick so it was no real hardship for him, he just spent the next 30 minutes or so licking his lips. On the odd occasion I couldn't get all of it into his mouth I did try spreading it onto his paws and of course, it worked. He soon licked it off.

As I said, we spent three weeks doing this. It was a good day for us when we succeeded in getting a whole half a tablet into him but as each day passed he became a little more listless, a little more sad looking. From the time we arrived home from holiday and found him so obviously very ill, he never had that old Benjamin smile we had come to know so well on his face. He looked sad and unhappy from then on. That's not to say it was all pain and torment for him. I don't think it was because we spoilt him rotten over those three weeks and, when he felt up to it, he would roll over onto his back, stretch then close his eyes and doze. Sometimes he looked comfortable but less so towards the end of those three weeks.

On Thursday evening, 27th July 2006, we saw him struggling to go to the toilet out front. He failed to do anything and ambled slowly in doors, his claws click clacking on the wooden floor. He looked so thin and so frail it made us cry just seeing him walking so slowly and, sadly, with no purpose. We knew then we would have to make a decision. We always knew that we would have to make that decision, we just didn't know when it would be and we hoped and prayed it would be later rather than sooner. It was not to be. Benjamin was in some discomfort. He found it difficult to get comfortable when he lay down and rarely stayed in the same place for long. Constantly moving to somewhere else. Looking for somewhere he could be comfortable. We knew the time had come.

We had decided we could not put him through the trauma of boxing him up and transporting him to the vet. We would have the vet come home here and help our Ben out of this life and into the next, so Win rang them on the Friday and they agreed to come out at 6.30pm that day.

His last day with us was, for him, as far as we could tell, pretty good. For us it was dreadful. All during his illness over the last three weeks the weather had been fine, in fact a bit too fine. Too hot and humid on several days and he would lie exhausted under the conifers, his little head resting on a plank of wood, another of his favourite places. On Friday there was a little bit of a breeze and it felt a little less humid. Ben obviously found the change to his liking and was a little more active, to the point where Wendy thought the vets would see him looking sprightly and demand to know from us why we had even considered putting the poor chap to sleep! But that was not the case. Again we saw him trying to go to the toilet. Again he failed.

They arrived in a big black Range Rover promptly at 6.30pm. A coloured guy and a girl. They had their kit and asked us to get Ben in from the garden. To my utter shame I had to drag him from under the conifers, one of his favourite places, to have him put to sleep. I just wanted to say "No, leave him there, he's quite content" but I knew that wasn't true. We got him inside and they got to work. Win couldn't face this and so Beccie came round and between us we held him tight. We had to wrap him in a towel because, as poorly as he was, he was still strong enough to struggle free from the hands of a vet. I'm under no illusion that he had any idea as to what was going to happen, he just didn't like vets. The coloured guy patiently cut the fur from Benjy's left front paw much to Benjy's distaste. He then slipped a needle into the flesh and within a couple of seconds Ben relaxed. The vet then cut the fur from Bens right paw and injected him again. By this time I guess our lovely boy had passed away.

Throughout this time I had sobbed uncontrollably. I took his still warm body out into the garden, his favourite place. He loved the arrival of spring and sunny days when he could flop down against the bungalow with the warmth and protection of the brickwork against his back watching the birds, high enough up in the pyracantha and well out of his reach.

I sat and stroked him and talked to him thanking him for the time he gave to us, for the unconditional love he showed and the pleasure he gave us.

I then dug a hole in the garden, in a spot he was frequently to be found sunning himself. I dug with the fury and anger of one deprived of a loved one. It was hot and the perspiration was dripping off me. Win had telephoned Nick and he came round and took over from me. I then took his boney little body, wrapped it in a blanket he used to sleep on and gently lowered him into the hole. Unceremoniously I scraped the earth so frantically dug out earlier back into the hole and covered our lovely boy. Oh the tears as I type this.....

Joe and Zak had brought a furry mouse round earlier in the week and my Dad had given us a little windmill which Ben proceeded to spray on so I placed these on top of the mound covering his little body and once more thanked him for being our friend.

A hot summer's day

The temperature was 20° before we left home and was set to rise as the day progressed. Maggie and Dave came over about 9.30am and we set off for Awre, a village alongside the river Severn. We had found a walk of just 3½ miles which took us along the banks of the Severn starting and finishing in the car park of the Red Hart at Awre. I had booked a table at the Red Hart for 2pm as we planned to go on to Newent to see Mum and Dad after lunch.

We arrived in Awre following a slight mix up on Severn bridge crossings at 11am and, after a quick coffee, began our walk. The tide was low as we started, with large areas of sand banks visible. An hour or so into the walk Dave called to us to look at the river and there it was. Our first Severn Bore. A tidal surge of probably around ½ metre was making its way up the Severn and the change it made to the river was quite dramatic. Suddenly it became a full and fast flowing river, of interest to birds and jet skiers alike.

We arrived back at the Red Hart around 1.15pm, in time to sit and enjoy a cold drink in the garden prior to lunch. The food was outstanding. From the Sunday roast to the mushroom stroganoff it was one of the best meals we've enjoyed in a long time.

Around 3.30pm we said goodbye to Maggie and Dave who were off into the Forest of Dean for a short walk, and set off for Newent. Mum and Dad were fine and, after a short stay with them, we went into the town to the church where there was a flower show actually inside the church. We met Barbara, who wasn't having a good day, down by the lake, back to Mum and Dad's for a cuppa and then set off for home.

Home by 7pm and the temperature was 31° - sat out in the garden. Perfect end to a very pleasant weekend.

Epernay via Antwerp

We're back..... arrived home Friday night after a fortnight in France looking like a couple of rusty wallnuts. The weather was superb if a little damp at the outset.

Although warm it was showery initially and in fact we had a terrific downpour one night combined with a hefty helping of thunder and lightening.

Following an overnight stay in Dunkerque we set off for Antwerp where Wendy's father is buried. He was killed in the November as she was born in December just at the end of the second world war.

The picture above is a monument to the fallen of World War II and stands at the entrance to the immacutaley kept Schoonselhof War Graves Cemetery at Hoboken, a suburb of Antwerp.

From Antwerp we headed south intending to stay somewhere in the Ardenne but we fetched up in Epernay. 20 km south of Rheims, Epernay is the capital town of Champagne. Simply beautiful countryside with chalky stone hillsides lined with mile after mile of grapevines.



Our site in Epernay was alongside the river Marne which rises north of Dijon and flows into the Seine just outside Paris. Painted by Pissaro, Cezanne and many others it is a beautiful soft green colour. We stayed there the two weeks and had a wonderful time walking and exploring the vines of France.

A cafetiere clear day

Well, what a brilliant day. It started well with fresh English strawberry's for breakfast followed by the usual lightly scrambled egg on brown toast and freshly ground coffee. We were off to see Wendy's father in Trowbridge and it was a perfect summers day. We made good time although the traffic was quite heavy. Lunch at The Poplars was up to its usual standard and Wendy and I shared a wonderful high calorie pudding. We took Dad back and stayed an hour or so with him.

When we left for home we decided to stop off in the Shires shopping mall in Trowbridge as we wanted a couple of things for our forthcoming holiday not least an up to date atlas of Europe. Well, what I did find, to my absolute amazement, was a new glass for my cafetiere which I broke recently. We found it in Knee's, a department store that was going when we lived in Trowbridge some 40 years ago. Then success with a couple of new shirts, all in all a good day.

Off to France

Shush...... don't tell anyone, but I am doing this blog from work. It's a relatively quiet time here and ennui is setting in like rheumatism. It's mid week already and my thoughts are on the coming weekend. On Saturday we are up to Trowbridge to lunch out with Dad. Always a pleasant excursion, Wendy and I met and married in Trowbridge. We frequent a lovely restaurant with fine food but it does take up most of the day and nothing else gets done.

Sunday is Intergroup and starts at 2pm. I am picking Midge up on the way so will have to leave home by1pm, which means an early lunch at around 12 noon which, following a late leisurely breakfast means I won't get much done around the house. Another weekend gone and the last one before we start our holiday.

We have both taken Friday 23rd off in order to get down to Dover to catch the ferry to France at 6pm. We have had problems with our new car, a Renault Laguna which, we thought, would pull the caravan nicely. Following our weekend in Dartmouth a couple of weeks ago we realise that the Renault will not be powerful enough to tow a fully laden caravan for two weeks and so we have had to resurrect the Volvo. Le Volvo towed well a couple of years ago when we went to Brittany with Marian and Ian. Main grouch is that it doesn't have air conditioning and hopefully, it will be hot hot hot.... that's what we're going for!

Sunday morning

Thank God I'm not earning my living writing blogs. I haven't been here for some time now, however....

It's Sunday morning 11th June and we've just had breakfast. Usual stuff, boring in its familiarity but enjoyable nevertheless.

We're later than normal having been out playing cards with the usual crowd (excluding Midge who was in London staying with her brother) last night. Geoffrey seemed much improved but still looks thin. The DVD I made of our weekend in Darmouth didn't work on their DVD player so Maggie and Dave took it to see if it works on theirs.

I've just had a text from Beccie saying they are 50 miles from Dover and that the M25 was a breeze. Also they have used 1 litre of oil, but it should be ok now for them as it's only about 60 miles south once they get off the ferry.

We are off to Newent this afternoon to see Mum and Dad. Mum is still in respite so we will take Dad in to see her.

12 noon and just rang Newent to speak to Dad and confirm time of arrival this afternoon only to find Mum answering the phone. Sounded very confused but got the basic facts right. She has been home a couple of days now, had a row with Dad and he's gone off! Quickly rang Barbara and Ian answered saying she was scouring Newent looking for Dad who was threatening to do something drastic!

Rang back ten minutes later to find Barbara back home, with Dad. She sounded dreadful and shouldn't have to put up with this anymore. Hopefully, from what she said, Dad now realises he can't cope with Mum on his own. She needs permanent care now and perhaps so does he. It's going to be another difficult meeting this afternoon I can see.

Geoffrey's bowel

Well, it's some time since my last post although little has happend in between, except to Geoffrey that is. He has had his colon removed and is now home after spending 10 days in hospital. Happily all went well and he begins his period of convalescence now.