New Year's Party eye-full. More weather!

Monday 30^th December.

We decided not to go to the party in Lancaster after all. I suppose the grotty rain and wind decided it for us really. Better to be snug indoors at home than venture out and risk being blown into the New Year. There was also the fact that we’d know hardly anyone there, too.

OMG. I don’t believe it! I have just won $1250 from a bet made in the summer in Australia. I made a bet, at 100-1, that Australia would win the Ashes Series 5 – 0. They also offered a quarter odds for a 4-0 [or 4 – 1] series win. The time has now come to mention that I have made this bet to my brother-in-law. I left the betting slip with Annabelle, but being only 12 she will have to give it to her Mum or Dad to collect the winnings. He will tease me ad infinitum. If they go on to make it a 5 – 0 victory, I will get a cool $5,000. I don’t mind being teased for that amount of money.

There is worse to come… Dad & Louisa are out there. If I win the full amount I may get murdered when they get back! If Pete will think it funny that I bet against my own side; Dad will be seriously not amused. He will ‘out Victoria’ his Victoria, if you see what I mean. If this blog suddenly stops at the end of January you’ll know what’s happened!

The weird Cumbrian weather continues. Dad’s max / min thermometer recorded a high yesterday of 11 degrees Celsius, its overnight low was 5.5 degrees. That is so un-seasonally mild. It rained almost all this morning until about 11am. Eventually I bit the bullet and went into Maryport. I walked the dogs along the prom in the weather break while Laura went to visit her Mum and Dad. Just as the woofies and I got back to Dad’s the heavens opened again!

Laura came back full of excitement. She had a message from a couple of her old school friends waiting for her at her Mum’s [Mary-Ann and Tina]. They wondered if she wanted to head out with them on New Year’s Eve for a swift drink before going to Sue and Iain’s party. She had phoned form her Mum’s and accepted, so it looks like we’ll be out whooping it up on the 31^st after all. The rain was pelting down so heavily at dog last walk time they only wanted to go onto the back garden to perform. It is sometimes OK to let the dog make the choice.

Laura asked if would be happy with her decision about the pub and party, and I agreed it sounded as though it could be fun. The plan is: we’ll get dropped off at the Ship Inn at Allonby at about 9. Stay there until about 10.15 when there will be a minibus coming along to pick a handful of people to go to Sue and Iain’s – there will be room for us on the minibus. We can either get a taxi or cadge a lift from Crosby to Tallentire after the party so we won’t abandon the dogs all night.

Mary-Ann is one of the few friends Laura has kept in touch with after school. She left at the end of the sixth-form and went to work in a bank. She knows Laura’s sexual orientation and is fine with it. She doesn’t know about the older predatory girlfriend she has found for herself. [OK, I may be exaggerating about the predatory nature but I used to feel a bit of cradle snatcher at first, with her being so much younger than me.] Tina is a friend of Mary-Ann’s from the bank.

We spent a lot of the time before the final dog walk and charp hitting deciding what to wear. If it stays as mild as it has been we have decided on a pair of dresses that are so skimpy you could make one decent dress between them. We are going to pretend we are Cockermouth High School Girls on a Friday night in town! LOL

Tuseday 31^st December.

More rain again this morning, but it stopped by 10am so I whizzed into Cockermouth to get some fresh milk and bread, which I had forgotten the other day. I ran into Sue at supermarket and she asked me if I was accepting Dad’s invitation to her party as he and Louisa were in Australia. I told her we’d be there about 10.30 having been somewhere else first. She was packing the kids off to their Gran’s for the night and was going to walk them on the beach as consolation if I fancied joining them. 

The weather had changed so dramatically in such a short time. There was now a clear sky overhead with bright sunshine. I called Laura and got her to put the dogs in Dad’s Land Rover as we were going to the beach at Allonby. She put my wellies and coat in too. At Dad’s I merely jumped out of the Cee’d into the Laura driven Land Rover, we then stopped at Sue’s to pick up the urchins. Because the wind was blowing up the Solway we parked up near Bank End Nursery and walked south, into the wind, along the beach as far as Dub Mill.

The wind was very strong, but quite mild and not cold at all. The kids loved running through the streams that ran from the sand dunes to the sea and the dogs went silly with the wind in their ears. There wasn’t a cloud in the sky above us or over the Solway. Away in the distance Skiddaw had a heavy covering of clouds and what looked like snow down its north western flank. The rest of the fells were under cloud too.

On turning round the benefit of walking into the wind first was apparent as the difference in temperature and buffeting was amazing. We walked back along the coastal path rather than the beach and in places it was so sheltered, even though it was only metres from the exposed beach, the temperature seemed to be much higher. As an extra bribe for going to their Gran’s the kids were treated to a drink and a treat while we had a cuppa and a bun in the Nursery’s tea room.

As Lollster manoeuvred us and dogs home, I began to musing about the Romans out here all those centuries ago. I would really have hated being a Legionary stationed out on this windswept coast. It must have been one of the most hated postings in the Empire. As if to show we were blessed by the gods of Rome, as we drove to Dad’s the skies clouded over and it began to rain again!

Back at the ranch the driving rain and wind made me question the wisdom of being dressed so skimpily for the party. In the interests of common decency and sobriety [and to keep my important little place warm] I decided to wear leggings with the dress and make it look like a tunic instead. I know; I am a wuss.

After tea Molly drove us down to Mary-Ann’s house, where we met her folks and siblings. I was merely introduced as Laura’s friend, but it seems they had heard of Dad and knew I was his daughter, so that gave us a fair bit to talk about; especially his marriage, last summer, to Louisa. I hadn’t realised that people gossiped so much about people they didn’t really know. We discussed what we were doing with our lives and the usual ‘break the ice’ and ‘get to know you’ type of thing. Mary-Ann, for example, is hoping to be a manager of a bank one day and have a family with two or three children. I hope it stays fine for her!  As there is not even a prospective Mrs Bank Manager’s husband on the horizon yet, she may find her dreams have to be scaled back a little.

At 9, Mary-Ann’s mum drove us from Aspatria down to Allonby and we hit the pub. It was busier than I had expected and M-A seemed quite well known to a fair number of people. There were a lot of introductions made but I am afraid almost all the names went in one ear and out of the other. Three youngish girls and a demi-spinster [me] seemed to attract a fair bit of attention from the would-be Romeos of the parish, however. We got offered drinks and had guys come over and attempt conversation for almost all of the time we were there. Mary-Ann and Tina seemed to see nothing wrong in accepting the drinks proffered but I declined after a while, saying that I still had one. Laura kept up with her school chums at first but she, too, started declining the offers.

We migrated to the part of the pub where the others who were going to Sue and Ian’s were ensconced and room was made for us to join them. These were people more of the age of Sue and Iain and we were able to hold a more intelligent conversation than we were getting at the bar. When I told someone who asked that I was a Research Assistant they actually asked, “At which University?” rather than an incredulous, “What’s that, then?”

The 10 of us left when the mini-bus appeared just before 10.15, spilling us out at Sue and Iain’s a little under ten minutes later. I have been here before when I was much younger but all I remember of it was the view down the hillside to Allonby and the Solway Firth beyond, all of it even closer than it is from Dad’s. By now the rain had eased off and the sky was clearing again to show Orion to the south. Across the water the lights of the Southerness coast were clearly visible from what must have been Dundrennan in the west, all the way to Carsethorn. They were twinkling away invitingly but when I mentioned the names of the places we could see I got the usual, “What? We’ve never been round there!”

The house is fairly large but it was packed with people. Sue took our coats and hid them somewhere then pointed us to the utility room where the booze was amassed. There were tins and bottles in abandoned chaos on the work surfaces and S & I had even bought a barrel of beer from Yates’ Brewery at West Newton. This seemed to be the most popular drink amongst the majority who had just arrived, I headed for the white wine selection and found some Marlborough Sauvignon Blanc which was very palatable. Laura had some Gallo Rose.

We then mingled, and mingled and mingled. By 11.15 I had lost Laura somewhere in the many rooms, although this was an agreed strategy, we planned to get back to the utility room at just before midnight. I met all sorts of people, some I knew; some I didn’t. Some of them were very interesting; some were totally boring old farts. I had to avoid two guys with mistletoe [not at the same time] who were very determined to snog anything that looked female!

Just before the witching hour I went off and found Laura who was having to fend off one of the mistletoe guys as I approached. I grabbed his shoulder and twirled him round. This surprised him quite a bit. I told him she didn’t want his attentions and to clear off. He sneered, “Oh yeah. Let her tell me that…”

Laura said, “I’ll do better than tell you, I’ll show you.” She snatched his mistletoe held it over my head and we kissed for a good minute or so.  “So, now just piss off!” Tina happened to be getting herself a refill at the time and had witnessed our display of affection open mouthed. She came across to us, definitely the worse for drink, and asked the inevitable, “Did I see you two guys kissing just now?”

“Erm… Yes.”

“Why?”

“She’s my Girlfriend. We live together. Have done since September.”

“Does Mary-Ann know?”

“Of course.”

“Oh. Cool!”

With that she wandered off to the living room where the throng was assembled for the counting down of the seconds to midnight by watching it happen on the TV. We counted down from ten then all gave a huge cheer and wished as many people as we could a Happy New Year. When the TV began playing Auld Lang Syne we all joined hands in a really wonky circle, that went out into the hall and back through the dining room, and accompanied the TV singing with our own, less tuneful, version of Burns’ ditty. There then followed a few minutes of mass kissing and hand shaking and hugging until Sue announced the fireworks were about to be lit.

As the hordes trooped outside to where the fireworks were being lit, I caught up with Sue and asked where our coats were, she told me they were in the front right and bedroom. I went into find them and was startled to see the backside of a guy moving rhythmically in a pumping motion towards the proffered rear of a woman who was bent over in front of him, holding on to the dressing table. I could see both of their faces looking startled at me in the mirror and they both craned round to witness my retreating form waving our coats aloft in one hand and calling, “Sorry! Just getting our coats for the firework display. Sorry!”

I reflected that maybe Mary-Ann had just found her future Mrs Bank Manager’s husband.

I decided not to tell Laura about her friend getting a swift bit of doggy.

The fireworks were a wow. They had several of those multiple shot display types and masses and masses of rockets. Each guest was given a packet of sparklers and we [well I did, anyway] felt like little children again for a while. I thought the rockets were the best things, they had nearly fifty altogether and we spent an age firing them off into the 2014 sky.

Back inside I swapped the Savignon Blanc for several glasses of hot mulled wine. It was delicious. I somehow got put in charge of the tureen on the cooker and kept having to refill it with fresh wine, then another sachet of Mulled Wine Spices and more chopped fruit. I actually enjoyed doing this so much I surprised myself. When M-A came to get a glass she said, “Please don’t tell Laura, will you?”

“Tell her what?” That was me in diplomatic mode, BTW.

“Oh, right… Thanks.” And she was gone. Maybe to get some more doggy with another guy, who knows?

As happens at these things, a large proportion of the guests vanished about 1pm and a small nucleus squeezed ourselves into the living room furniture as best we could. M-A had vanished [and Tina, too] although the guy who had been vigorously hiding his sausage inside her was still there but with another woman sat on his lap! I had been hoping to sit snuggled up with Laura but I ended up stuck between Sue and Gilbert, three of us on a sofa designed for two! I think Gilbert must have washed himself in his aftershave, or deodorant or whatever it was. The smell was really over powering.

Sue asked me if Loll and I wanted to crash in one of the kids rooms for the night but I explained we couldn’t abandon the dogs for the whole evening, who knew what kind of mess we would get back to find? She asked how we were getting back to Dad’s and I had to admit I didn’t have a clue. She thought this was very funny but then heaved herself off the sofa and, almost crushing my knee in the process as she used it as a levering point, said, “Don’t go away. I will sort you out a Pumpkin and four mice!”

I took the opportunity to slide further from the pungent Gilbert into Sue’s place on the sofa and almost had my mulled wine sent flying from my hand as Laura plonked herself down on my lap. We had a swift snog, which may have lasted a few days, and then she whispered “You see the guy with the woman in that hideous green dress on his knee?” I nodded. “Well, I found him coming out of the cupboard next to the by the toilet followed by a different woman.”

“Bloody hell. What did you do? What did they do?”

“I was so embarrassed, I said I was looking for the toilet. He sort of leered and said, ‘Well so we were but we found the vacuum cleaner, mops and dusters instead.”

“Did you say anything?”

“I didn’t. I closed the door of the toilet. When I got out they’d gone. It definitely wasn’t the woman in the green dress.”

We didn’t have time to conjecture on who the woman was when Sue reappeared telling us that Esther and Paul were just about to go home to Bridekirk if we wanted a lift. We accepted with alacrity and within a few minutes were being rushed through the West Cumbrian countryside by another pair of strangers. They seemed nice enough and, of course, they knew Dad and who I was even though I had never actually met them. [This happens to me a lot, with Dad.]

The pups were ecstatic to see us again and I just slipped on my walking boots to take them for their walk up the hill. I must have looked really comical to anyone who saw me. I guess at 2.30 am there wasn’t much chance of that.

In bed we Laura and snuggled up and chatted about the party. I debated to tell her what I’d seen but decided discretion was the best course of action. We gave each other our first Os of the New Year before finally pushing the zeds at about 3.30.

Wednesday January 1^st 2014.

A few years ago I would have gone through my cheque book writing the new year number onto the date section. How things have changed, eh?

Fucking Yahoo answers have suspended my account again. The bastards! I put a quote from a Monty Python sketch as one of my answers and even cited the source in the name your source box and the fucking bastards said it was “violence and hate speech”! You bloody arseholes; it was Series One, Episode Two of Monty Python’s Flying Circus you cretins! I am seriously thinking of not using Y!A any more. What a set of c*nts they are!

Speaking of which…. No, that is rude… Had the New Year’s long Skype with Australia this morning [UK time] and Peter had found out from Annabelle that I had won $1250 by betting against England! Oh, bloody hell. He gave me so much grief. It was quite funny actually. I claimed I was simply an excellent sports pundit and knew that England’s Hubris would lead to their down fall. Dad was disappointed in me [he claimed] but could see that I had a point. I just hope that they lose 5-0 and that will cover almost two Business Class flights to Australia this coming summer. The final test in Sydney doesn’t start until tomorrow [UK time] but I wouldn’t be surprised if England stuff it up big time again. Friday morning’s look at Cricinfo will be revealing.

We had a stroll round the local villages today with the dogs rather than drive off anywhere as the weather was predicted to be grotty. We took them down the bridlepath to Gilcrux and then back up the road / track that leads to Tallentire Hill, from there we strolled into Bridekirk and then back to Dad’s. It was surprisingly longer than I expected. I will have to take Dad’s Land Rover round the route to check the mileage. Actually I am an idiot, I could just measure it on my Ordnance Survey map, couldn’t I? The rain held off until he very last bit where we rejoined the road that leads from the village to Cockermouth. It started to drizzle and by the time we had arrived back at Dad’s it was as though someone in the clouds was just emptying vast buckets of water on us!

This wetness continued for the rest of the day. So we did the usual trick of bank up Dad’s wood burner and just chill out. Loll got a phone call from Mary-Ann to find out what happened to us at the party and they gossiped for hours it seemed. M-A had zoomed off just after the fireworks display, it turns out. She didn’t explain why.

I called Mum and got her answer machine, so I phoned her mobile and got her answer machine again. So I phoned Phil and Jane and she was there. I should have guessed. They’d had a fairly quiet New Year and were doing the same as us – dodging the dreadful weather. Phil asked if I thought Dad would mind if they came up for the weekend and spent the last few days of their holiday at Dad’s, with us. I thought it was a great idea. They are coming up tomorrow morning sometime; which will be fun. Even better, they have persuaded Mum to bite the bullet and come and stay too. After all it used to be hers and Dad’s house until the divorce, and with Dad away I can’t see a problem with the idea.

Thursday January 2^nd.

Arriving in the morning were Phil’s words yesterday. They were here by 9.30!

They must have been up in the dark. [Angela moaned that they were and she was still asleep really.]

After a second breakfast for them and a first one for Laura and me, we sorted out rooms. Phil and Jane had Dad and Louisa’s. Mum had Suze’s old room, Peter had Phil’s old room and Anglea the guest room. She did want to sleep with Laura and me on the daybed in my room but we were able to convince her that we were very noisy sleepers; we both snored like chain saws, and she decided the guest room might be better. [We don’t snore, BTW.]

After sorting out rooms we went out into the fells. I took them up Vicki’s Fell. There was a window in the weather it seemed. It had been clear and dry since dawn so we took a chance. The view from the top of My Fell showed that clouds were heaped up south of Great Bourne looking ready to sweep in and give us a drenching, so we didn’t hang about too long.

On the stroll down Angela came up to me and slipped her gloved hand in mine and we chatted about Christmas and her presents; about what they’d been doing since I last saw them and the like. She stunned me by saying, “I wouldn’t have stopped you and Laura kissing if I’d slept in your bedroom!”  WTF? She is 7. Where the hell did she get this from? I asked her what had made her say that and she told me that Peter had said we had “nookie” together. Luckily, she assumed nookie meant kissing. Peter needs a good slapping. Fancy telling a seven year old about stuff like that? Even if she has got hold of the wrong end of the stick, it doesn’t seem right some how. Even more worrying I guess is how does an 11 year old boy know about stuff like that too? I guess he must be searching for internet porn or something?

At the car I told Laura about our permission to have nookie and she thought it was a hoot. Apparently she and her sisters used to tease their brother, Stephen, about things sexual quite a bit when he was younger. I am obviously a Nun in disguise, as I found this a little bit worrying. I kept my gob shut though.

I had phoned through to the Kirkstile Inn to book us a table for our lunch and as we drove there, from Lanthwaite Wood NT Car park, I was able to leave the dogs in the back of the car to dry off rather than take them into the pub. Lunch was delightful and even more so when Philip paid! Rah rah rah. The downside was the pub ended up being packed with bloody southerners. They have these loud, snobby voices and have horrible children with names like Algernon and Estella. They wear “designer” outdoor gear that looks lovely but on the fells would be as useful as a chocolate teapot. In fact the nearest most of them have been to a fell top is driving round the bottom of one in their crappy Lexus 4x4s which are worse than useless as an off roader.

I don’t mean to sound bitter but these types claim to love the fells but never climb one! I have no time for hypocrites.

Back home we played games with the kids all afternoon and watched aghast as the weather broke down again! At one point we had a hailstorm for a few minutes! Because we had arranged their visit yesterday I had cooked an old family favourite for our tea – meat and potato pie with a suet crust top followed by home-made Lemon Meringue pie. The latter was one of mine but it was one I had made much earlier and frozen for Dad, luckily for us he hadn’t got round to eating it!

Sadly, after the meal, the TV got switched on, for the first time in days and we watched the usual drivel instead of talking to each other. I won’t get started on why I hate TV I promise.

The kids had an early(ish) night and we ‘grown ups’ sat around for a while, finishing off the 2^nd Rioja we’d opened with our tea!

Mum came with me on the dog walk, she was still a bit concerned about being here at all. I did my best to assure her it would be alright. I reminded her of something she’d once told me, which has ruled a lot of my subsequent behaviour: “It is easier to ask forgiveness afterwards, than to ask for permission before!” She was gobsmacked that she had ever said any such thing; I had to reassure her that those were her very words. She tried to convince me they were my father’s words not hers. I was able to remind her she had said them after I had tried to paint my ceiling dark blue so I could stick my glow stars onto a proper background to show the constellations properly. I had got paint everywhere! [Mainly on me!]

After some nookie with Laura, I slept the sleep of the righteous.