Welcome...

Recommended...

Blog powered by TypePad

Life's a Picnic

For The Love of The Housebuying Process

Hmmm, a week before completion on Newquay, deposit with the solicitor, quite a few possesions packed and away in storage then wallop...mortgage offer withdrawn! Stress levels can I guess be prevented by deciding not even to own a house and buy a boat to live on. Then, you see your bills will waver council tax, you won't be able to arry too many possessions (no point buying too much stuff therefore), you will only be able to shop for food every other day or so and you know...to me..it's quite an appealing option!!

Something sensible in me (or should I say boring) compells me to think that bricks and mortar will help in the long run and prevent in creaking old age from wondering from bench to bench with newspaper for blankets like a bag lady. Part of me also thinks that reaching old age, as I am sadly constantly reminded by friends and loved ones, doesn't always knock at the door. So perhaps a rock and roll lifestyle, no worries or possesions whilst rockin and rollin around on a yacht??

Continue reading "For The Love of The Housebuying Process" »

Single Dad

Now. Where was I on the original story of my childhood? I seem to be suffering from 'writer's block' a little on the direction of this blog and offen I find the best thing to do is just start typing and something will come to mind.
Of the many, many thoughts and memories which ones to pick to tell you about today? Well, let's see. I talked about my Mum who wasn't very well when I was young. I talked a little of the divorce and growing up with my Dad didn't I. I talked a bit about the many different and often hilarious au pairs we used to have which varied from Uncle John' in his pin striped suit and who wasn't an Uncle and also Barbara who used to sunbathe starkers!

Continue reading "Single Dad" »

Tombstones and stinging nettles

In my new way of planning ahead which is a bit of a revolution to me, I had organised a trip to Bristol for yesterday and today. The idea being to kill 3 birds with 1 stone. A visit to my Mum's cousin 'Uncle Hedley and wife Iris, time with old college pal Emma and her kiddies and a visit to my Mum's grave. The latter, if you've been following my blog has been on my agenda for almost 10 years, which causes a lot of nagging!

Unfortunately Emma had to cancel as the kids had a sickness bug and it was just about to hit her. I met Hedley and Iris in Bristol at Brown's Restaurant in Clifton and had a great catch up with them added to by a nice lunch. As you know, I don't have much family left (although thanks to Stuart and Paula, they are doing something about that), so it was good to see them. They are 50 years married this year. I admire that. Am sure they do too! But Hedley always comes up with snippets of the past which I love hearing. He may tell me a little about my Grandma's old house, or Mum, you know, bits and pieces that I may not have heard without our occasional chats.

Hedley was a Bristol Channel Pilot for years and years. Lots of stories he has, but I particularly loved hearing yesterday and his account ledger book that he has kept most of his life. He used to have £5 to last him a week! I've got to see these books some day. It'd be an education.

Ok, so next up and I had to had to do it. Go and find my Mum's grave near Gordano Service Station off the M5. I had earlier that morning stopped at the garden centre to buy shears and flowers (it was very overgrown last time I went). I felt silly and guess this is the way I always felt throughout school, being different to a lot of others because my Dad was bringing us up, Mum was ill and lived away. Almost like an embarrassment your parents have caused you because the home life just isn't normal. So there I was in the garden centre, feeling silly buying some shears, just to tidy up my Mum's grave, feeling like everyone including the lady at the till would know what they were for. Rubbish! Of course she wouldn't. I was in a hurry and the choices were pink girlie small shears or a bloody 3 set of shears, pruning shears and something else. I didn't have time to go to the DIY store to get just the one pair of normal shears, so oh no, I got the frigging set!

On arrival at the church after getting a little lost (happens every time), I walked through to the church bells ringing. Bugger! More embarrassment. Were there going to be loads of people stood outside after a service to see me armed with shears and 2 flower pots? What would I do? What would I say? Would I smile? Oh, grieving isn't easy is it!

Off I went and the service was going on inside the church thankfully. I just had to figure out where Mum's tombstone was. I had a rough idea. There were loads there. Some old, some new, freshly dug, nice flowers. Others neglected or ancient. I had my jeans and flip flops on (which you need to know)! I walked and walked round and around, scanning the stones and I couldn't find it. I was getting more and more frustrated, there was a huge thunder cloud threatening nearby and it was getting later and later. I weaved my way around the stones, I put my specs on. I went to one corner, then the other, then row upon row and I still couldn't see it. Had it been smashed as some of them had? Was it so overgrown that i wouldn't see it. I put down the shears and the flowers I had been carrying round in hope. I walked the old stones which have creepily sunken along with the graves, making the ground very uneven. I got stung loads of times by bloody nettles on my feet from wearing flip flops. I couldn't believe it. I had been wanting to do this for ages, I had finally got here armed with the shears and the flowers and I couldn't find it. Would I being going home, mission UN accomplished, feeling dissatisfied?

I rang Uncle, who I haven't spoken to in ages. Did he know? Of course he did and he managed to direct me there. I must have walked past it several times. Suddenly there it was and I could read 'Precious memories of Alec French (72 years) 1972, Esme Elizabeth French (82 years) Feb 25th 1985 and Angela MacArthur Dec 27th 1984 (49 years). So Papa as we called him died when I was just 2, then Mum 20 days after my 14th birthday, followed by her mother exactly 2 months after her daughter, my Mum. All buried together. What a tragedy.

Main thing was, I cut the grass, I put the flowers down, I wrote Mum a card and stuck a leaflet on The Picnic Boat in too. I sat there for a bit. I didn't cry, I just paid my respects. I think when people have left this world, they don't hang about in graveyards. they're free somewhere else. At least I'd stopped the nagging in my head to do what I had done yesterday. I'm moving on all the time. And one thing I said to Mum, if she was there, is that she has never been forgotten, she never will. Despite her terrible illness and all the time she wasn't with us growing up, she was and is always here.

Continue reading "Tombstones and stinging nettles" »

Life With Dad

When Mum left home to be treated, I think I must have been 6 or 7 years old and Dad still had to earn a living and go to work. As a single parent and being the man, he had to get help. This help came in the form of Au pairs and wow, there lots of them! Dad was very handsome and I guess any single Dad bringing up his owns kids would have a definite 'melting' factor for us women, so that combined with his looks must have had them swarming.

The interviews were funny. A page 3 girl, with those sort of looks came for an interview and I was sure Dad would hire her. Stuart in the background, was waving and nodding like mad to Dad behind her back saying 'yep Dad, thumbs up', but he was at least a little sensible. Another lady called Dierdre was blond, older with skin tight black cords and quite glam. She couldn't do her zip up after going to the loo at her interview, so Dad had to come and help her. I think she tried to hit on him at the interview. What a laugh. He said no, well, no for her to have the job, but who knows. Perhaps,he saved that for out of hours!

I clearly remember the first one. A ginger haired girl from Newton Abbot called Lynn. Lynn was cool. Lynn used to hoover listening to Radio 1 at full volume. Lynn used to always let us watch Top Of The Pops. Lynn also used to like cider and call out of her bedroom window to passing backpackers on their way to the Youth Hostel at Maypool.

A French girl who was a bit grumpy was next up. I once painted a beautiful oil painting with her of a woman with a long sophisticated neck. I was very proud of that. Not sure what happened to her, but she didn't last.

Dad's mate Uncle John had a spell of filling in, in between Au pairs.What a joy that was! Uncle John used to spend every day in a pin striped suit. He never had any of his own children, must have been about 65 or 70, grey slicked back hair, did The Times crossword every day. He couldn't cook, so every meal was beans on toast, he did wear a apron to do this though. Uncle John was strict too. We would be sent to bed in daylight hours which as I'm writing am realising, it must have been summer and the summer evenings. It was probably a sensible hour to send us to bed, but Stu and I used to watch the kids playing in the garden opposite and feel incredibly hard done by. The funniest memory of Uncle John (who wasn't a real Uncle by the way), was when I was on the telephone, by the front door. He used to wear my Dad's dressing gown, (God this sounds weirder by the second), which was a short blue toweling one with a hood and pockets. Uncle John passed me on the phone to go upstairs and here he was wearing this dressing gown with probably a giant pair of boxer shorts. Only his balls would have reached all the way Down Under to Oz if it wasn't for the stairs and the carpet stopping them!! What a sight, a sight I'll never forget. I laughed and told Dad when we saw him again and Dad thought that was hilarious and actually, so did I and still do. So that was Uncle John, he survived and we survived, but were glad for the next edition to the list.

Next up was Barbara. Barbara was lovely, she loved Mark's and Spenser Food, would cook us nice things and used to sun bath nude in the back garden. Stu, used to come home from school with his mates, sneak in through the front door, up to his room which overlooked the back garden and sneak a peek a Baps, sorry I should say Babs! Barbara, naked covered in baby oil!! That wouldn't happen these days would it. It wasn't perverse, it didn't mean anything, but I'm bloody laughing now remembering all this.

After Barbara, I think it was Daniella from Switzerland. She was full of energy, a good cook, brilliant at cleaning and great fun. The house was organized, sparkling and we were eating healthy meals. We later had visits to Switzerland to Danny's wonderful parents in Bern.

Then came Lesley from Sydney Australia. Lesley was a right laugh. Lesley loved us dearly and was very protective which was nice and there was a lot of good banter. I am great friends still with her now and her sister and have spent a lot of time with them all in Oz. Lesley, I found out recently had had a bit of a fling with Dad at the time. Naughty man as Dad must have been 40 something and Lesley 21 ish.

Continue reading "Life With Dad" »

My Mum

There is a certain haze in remembering my childhood. I'm told that that is a common thing to have foggy patches when times are bad. It's the bodies way of coping, particularly when we are young.

My Mum was called Angela and in her day was beautiful with the looks of a film star in a black and white movie. Most of the memory like this only bears witness as an old photograph. The real memories that I have of my Mum are all sad.

I cannot tell you for sure the dates of what went on, as I said, I am unsure myself. But I can tell you about her. Mum was ill, she was an alcoholic. My Grandparents on her side of the family were very wealthy and life evolved for them around sailing yachts, beach holidays abroad, dinners in posh restaurants and all nice things that people do when they have the money too. In those days, Mum's early days, she was often encouraged to have a sherry before dinner and maybe she just got used to the taste. She married Dad in 1967 I think and she had two bad events in the next year. She gave birth to a stillbirth little girl, who they named Mary. The cord had got stuck around the babies neck. Imagine that, carrying a baby for 9 months and then loosing it just like that. That must have been such a tradegy for them both, especially Mum.

Continue reading "My Mum" »

There's A Deadline You Know!

Business is booming on the boat, the bed and breakfast is proving to be a great success and I live a lovely life. However, being self employed has it's worries and for me as is for many others the worry can fall on the unpredictable. Will the weather stay reasonable? Will people holiday here as much as last year? Will people think I am too expensive? Lots of questions, all the time.

More to the point for me, is will I succeed this year. Will I get to keep my beautiful little cottage which I am even more fond of since the big re furbishment last year. The cottage makes a great bed and breakfast and I enjoy doing it, so will I make enough to pay the huge mortgage I now have? Lots of questions that leave a relative gamble in the fact that, it is impossible to tell what folk might do next in terms of the tourist trade.

Now this is where, aside from my hard work with marketing and such like, I am going to put a lot of trust (faith if you like),  in the universe.

Continue reading "There's A Deadline You Know!" »

Deep Heat!

Chris, from Shaggy Sheep Wales...thanks for such a top weekend and Paula, my sis, thanks for organising it all.

I now ache, yes, fair to say, all over!! Back, arms, thighs, shoulders, tummy, but boy was it worth it. Paula, PJ, Nicky, Tina, Sarah, Gail, Jenny & Suze, wasn't it great and sorry about dragging you all out Saturday night.

We stayed at a place called Tyddya Bychan near Betws Y Coed in North Wales. A beautiful location, with a bunk house with bunk beds for all of us in one room. A lovely breakfast served each morning by owner Linda in the main farm house set us up nicely for the day.

On Saturday, my horse, Claude was all of 17 hands. That, is a big horse! Our ride took us through the pine woodlands in park of the Snowdonia National Park and the scenary was stunning. Great being back on a horse, it had been a good few years and with hardly a cloud in the sky, it was perfect. We rode for a couple of hours before stopping for lunch in a bit of a bizarre place. Tied our horses up, went through the swing doors and said 'the milkybars are on me'. Not quite! The pub was actually a hotel with nice surroundings, but a funny old place. The lager shandy's went down very well and the panini's with included greenfly on the salad..not so well. When commenting on this to the waitress, she said, 'Oh, I should have washed it shouldn't I'. That was almost a comedy moment. In fact the lunch was comedy. When we have such stunning scenary, a great nation to show off and there are places like these, who maybe haven't got it right, which is a shame, because it lets a tourist trade down.

By the time we had had several trots, one canter and been on the horses for 4 and a bit hours, I think we were all desperate to finish. Twisted knees, sore bottoms, sore 'front bottoms' (as one of the girls called it).We had all managed to not fall off and stay in one piece. A cream tea in the gardens of the stables on finish before Chris took us back to the bunk house to shower and change.

A great area to sit round the kitchen table and gas with a few drinks before heading off to the local pub. Conversations on usual girlie stuff, but nice to do that. Sort of a solidarity getting girls or boys together isn't it. Quality time for your own sex. Not great all the time, but nice some of the time.

Dinner at the local pub before me managing to persuade Chris to get the girls out of the pub to go somewhere with a bit more get up and go. Abba tunes sung at the top of our voices en route and arrived at the town of Ruthin to a pub full of younsters. The girls weren't impressed and said they would have been happy staying in the pub with just or group. So, just before leaving we found one more pub for a last drink before Chris was going to get the mini bus to pick us up. That bar had karioke on. Basically we left in the minibus 3 hours, several drinks, singing, pole dancing, later!

Paula needs to be on stage, or rather 'should' be on stage. An amazing voice accompanied by great show. One chap sang The Commitments song 'Ride Sally' being completely cheered on by everyone and with all 9 of us dancing along and singing the chorus 'Ride Sally Ride' like a professional large backing group. It was histerical. More singing on the bus on the way back. Well done Chris from Shaggy Sheep Tours for putting up with us.

The next morning by 10am we were sneakily trying to get changed in a car park into wetsuits ready to go Gorge Scrambling. A brillient time, getting wet, climbing, jumping, ducking under rocks and squeezing through gaps and so on. A great hangover cure, once again in a stunning location. This was followed by a Sunday roast with pudd (we had deserved it), a few glasses of red, long drive back to Esher in Surrey, sleep, papers, magazines and more girlie chats.

And to sum up a weekend away like this? For one thing I have realised well, am realising more and more what a beautiful country it is that us brits live in. Great Britain it seems is truly a great place to be, to explore and enjoy. For years I have been so keen on getting away and now I am realising there is so much to enjoy and discover from our own doorstep.

I already knew that quality time away doing something planned and fun was great, however, the way the last few years have gone and when life gets busy, it's all too easy to miss planning times away like these. Paula already is planning another trip with Shaggy Sheep Wales for this time next year, only it'll be in South Wales, horse riding on the beach and coasteering instead. Already that gives me another thing to look forward to and plan and I will therefore sign up to go.

And as for a girlie time? It has to be done once in a while, to get those female solidarity, quality times and besides, we had such a laugh. Most of the girls had a child free time, they don't get often, there was no cooking involved, they all had time to be just themselves for a weekend. At the end of it, all the more happier to get home, see their children and husbands. As for me, the only one going home to no one? I felt great. I walked in the door and my house looked fantastic, welcoming and dealt with lots of boat and b & b bookings.Millie is with a friend for the day, so not seen her yet, but that'll be great. So life is good..just wondering when the aches and pains will dissapear, or perhaps I just need to go and buy some Deep Heat?!!

Horse Riding Bareback

The weekend is nearly here.Yahoo! I know, it's only Thursday but I have a mini holiday as from tommorrow afternoon. I'm off with 12 other women to Shaggy Sheep Activity Centre somewhere in North Wales. This, is NOT  a hen do! It, is a no excuse, get some girls together, plan something fun weekend. And why not!

A mini bus will pick us all up from my sisters place in Surrey where upon we gave read copies of 101 Ways With Leeks, listen to some cool tunes & have a drink. By the way The 101 thing I think is just a joke.

Saturday will see us on a 5 hour horse trek with a pub lunch. Some of the girls have never been riding before. What a laugh. I've been riding lots but my confidence dropped a while back after a nutty horse trek in New Zealand when I missed death by a split second. A bit of an exageration. I think a nice walk and a trot before lunch and a ride like Franki Detori on the way back. May even try that leap off the horse thing he did after his recent win.

So by Saturday night I should think there will be 12 ladies walking like John Wayne all for the wrong reasons. Ha ha. Drinks out Saturday night and Sunday a nice day relaxing...

No! Sunday sees us getting in wetsuits and jumping, scrambling down canyons and waterfalls. Most probably with a hangover. Oh dear.

Continue reading "Horse Riding Bareback" »

On The Subject Of....

I said I would talk more of adultery.I have now been on both sides of the counter with the subject, although admittedly, I can safely and very proudly say I was completely faithful in my marriage. When a relationship breaks down, the very first thing to go is communication and in a relationship, the key is just that. Communication! Without that, you cannot say what is bothering you, irritating you or upsetting you.

Leave this lack of honesty and lack of communication to set in for a while and what you can build up is anger and hurt. These are feelings to name a few.I would imagine there is a period of time basically when your needs are not being met by your partner before you will allow for someone else to fulfill these needs. Does this sound about right to you??

Continue reading "On The Subject Of...." »

The Vibrations Gone..

Yuk. I've been sat at my desk for the last 3 hours at the computer whilst Millie..you guessed it, lies asleep on my bed. Apologies for not writing sooner. A rather busy weekend on the boat and full with B & B and 3 dogs in the house. It felt quite 'clan' like having such a gang in.

Thank you goes out to Stephenson Marine for fitting a replacement of my new engine, with a much better new engine. I paid a grand sum of £5000 for one in April, but hadn't been happy at all with it. Far too much noise and vibration. Happy to say the new Isuzu (which I might have spelled incorrectly) is cool. Passenger, your dentures, champagne glasses, plates, food is safe from vibrating their own way off the boat! And neither can you get a kick from sitting on the engine box!!

Continue reading "The Vibrations Gone.." »