Magical Weimaraner turns a pheasant into a rabbit!

Friday 13^th December.

I am not superstitious. Touch wood.

To be honest I think a lot of superstitions are hokum, although some like never taking the third light from a match, for example, is based on common sense. It originates from World War One because by the time of a third lighting of a cigarette, from the same match, an enemy sniper would have drawn a bead on the light, making a shot towards it inevitable. Spilled salt thrown over your shoulder defies logic, though.

After we got back from the pool, I had a call from Steve just before we left for Uni asking if I’d like to bring Callie to walk up on a shoot tomorrow. They want new pickers-up [a rarity in itself] and I have been suggested. I am to go tomorrow with Callie to introduce her to the shoot and the idea of picking up. She has only been on rough shoots with me and a couple of other people, not a formal driven one, so she will be wearing “L” plates tomorrow. If she passes the test we will be put on the rota! She is a good retriever and knows what to do.

I am so excited. It is a good way to keep my dog in sharp form and get paid for doing it. The shoot is not too far from me, over some moorland and coppices near Ladybower. So it’s hardly any distance to travel at all. Although I have not been on one of these events before I am sure we will not disgrace ourselves.

At Uni there was no news of the Union’s letter but things did develop during the day elsewhere! I have been researching patterns for caskets and found a wealth of designs for 17^th Century ones but the Tudor and Plantagenet times seem to be less common. There are a lot of designs for stripes and bands of embroidery but nothing on the lines of the 17^th century ones. I have a lot of floral shapes and geometric patterns which remind me of early Islamic artwork. I’ve also uncovered some very naïve figures and scenes. The majority of what I have found is, quite understandably, ecumenical; altar cloths, vestment decorations and the like. There are masses of pictures of these available and quite a few extant examples to view although the stitches are also quite limited in their range.

Isn’t it bloody typical, fcuking politicians get hold of stuff and turn it arse about face. It seems though, that in this case twatneck Cameron’s inept bumbling about UUK may produce results despite his useless, and lacking any comprehension, intervention. The interview with the UUK spokesperson on PM [BBC Radio 4] was an embarrassment to listen to, as the Students’ Union rep tore into her facile and specious arguments. At times she had the poor idiot drivelling around try to get a handle on the proceedings without success.

Then on the 6 o’clock news fcuking bastard Cameron opens his gob and says he is against segregation, without seeming to have a clue what the fcuk he was talking about. That is typical for him though. Still, if it means a change of policy from UUK then it can’t be a bad thing. Even if it has been achieved by default as it were.

I have now seen all my tutees for their final time before we go down. They are mostly whacked out from a long term and new experiences. I remember my first term at Uni only too well, I was whacked out from being drunk so much and on my back so often. I cannot believe how wanton I was during those three months. [I did pay for it though in February of the following year!]

Interesting gossip, Felice is driving over to Lancaster this weekend to see a certain Mr Radford! 

Mmmm…. I hope she doesn’t get her fingers burned. He did seem to be a bit of an opportunistic sleeze bag to me, but maybe that was because I wouldn’t let him fcuk me after Dad’s reception. Perhaps he and Felice will make a good couple. [I don’t believe I am writing that. Ha ha ha!]

Laura was rushed ragged again at the restaurant. She has come home absolutely dead beat three times this week, I wonder if she is overdoing stuff a little? Tonight she sat in the boingy chair in the lounge and asked for a glass of something nice of my choosing. By the time I had brought her a chilled and iced Kummel she was sparko!

She wound her weary way up the wooden hills and hit the charp without even having a shower! So unlike her. I snuggled up with her and stroked her hair. She was fast asleep in minutes. I kissed her on the forehead before going back down to sort out the lights, the dog and the washing up. As I did so she muttered, “Night Mum!”

Saturday December 14^th.

I asked Laura if she wanted a lie-in instead of going swimming but she was raring to go and we had done our 100 lengths [Yaay, back up to target!] as usual by 7am. We gossiped with Sarah over our hot chocolate from the vending machine about Christmas plans. She is looking forward to some time off work but is dreading Christmas Day. The in-laws are coming round and it is becoming a bit of a tradition. We advised that she books a Holiday over the Christmas period next year then she can avoid the boorish rellies!

Callie and I were out and ready by 9am. I had put my gun in the boot but I didn’t need it. There were a good dozen people there with around 20 dogs all ready to sweep up the fields and pick up the game. 

Callie and I were put in the middle of the line with Steve and told to observe rather than go. If we were asked then we could put her training into practice.

She had proved herself pretty sensible and calm after the first two drives so on the third they'd organised, a guy called Dave said I could work Callie too. She absolutely loved it and found everything I sent her for. Most of them were blind marks, obviously, but she works really well to the whistle and hand signals. We had lunch after the third drive and sat in an old shepherd’s hut eating our sangers and drinking from flasks. I had brought a wodge of Chicken salad sandwiches and I could have eaten the whole lot again!

After lunch we had two more drives at different locations and we were transported there in a wagon pulled behind a tractor. It was a good job it wasn’t raining or we’d have been drenched. Callie brought all I sent her for on the next drive with no problems at all and Dave actually commented on how good she was, for a Weimaraner! Cheeky sod!

On the last drive I had an embarrassing moment though. I had sent for a pheasant at the edge of the coppice we were clearing and she took ages to find it. When she did come waddling back, little stumping wagging like billyo, she had brought a rabbit! I was completely astounded. The bird was a pheasant! OK, it was a blind mark but a pheasant had definitely gone down in the trees at the far end. 

What the fcuk was the silly pup doing with a rabbit in her gob? To say there were hoots of laughter was an understatement. We [Callie and I] had to endure all sorts of stupid comments, the best was, “You’re right, you know. Weimaraners are Magic! She’s just turned a pheasant into a rabbit!” I had defended Callie’s corner from the scorn and derision of the Labrador owners when we first arrived. One of the things I had said was, “You’ll see, she is magic!” Oh how the things we say come back to bite us on the bum, eh?

How the hell the dead rabbit had got into the coppice we had no idea. It couldn’t have been shot by any of the guns. Steve, Dave and I looked more closely at the rabbit after Callie’s perfect sit and present. The damn thing had been shot but was very cold. Obviously it was a previous day’s [or night’s] kill which hadn’t been found. Rigor had been and gone which meant it had been shot quite some time ago.

The game keeper wandered over to see what the strange bird the Weimy had brought back was. More laughter ensued. It is a good job Callie didn’t understand what was going on. The keeper dispatched his spaniel into the coppice and found nothing either. So, the supposed blind mark couldn’t have been a kill after all, it was quite probably a runner once down! I think the fact Callie had kept going until she found something to bring back for me showed what a well-trained puppy she was. I didn’t say anything though.

The keeper went back and had a laugh at the Guns’ expense pretending one of them had shot it, and couldn’t they tell the difference between a pheasant and a rabbit? I was hoping I’d get to keep it and cook it to match Laura’s surprise but the Keeper held on to it instead. That was a blow. After all it was Callie’s rabbit!

At divvy up time we all got a brace of birds and £35. Not an earth shattering amount but it was a local syndicate shoot, made up of ordinary people. There were no Lords, ladies or Right Honourables among this lot. Just a few Policemen, a doctor and several other assorted professions who had clubbed together to form their own group. The plus side of all this was they were quite happy to chat with us “pickers up” and even had time for a laugh and joke before we all got tractored back to where the cars were parked. My dog’s magical abilities were a source of more amusement to those who hadn’t heard the story yet.

I was told that I should change my dog’s name to Harry [Potter], I had to reply that I hoped their eyesight was better than that when looking down their guns because their Harry would have to be a Hermione! That got a laugh, too! I was asked if I shot as well as worked Callie and was met with nodding approval when I told them I did and then told them what  gun I had. [Beretta 686, over and under, multichoke, single trigger, 26” barrel.] I explained I had done a fair bit rough shooting but not any driven formal ones like this. They thought me thinking their little group formal was amusing, and I was regaled with tales of shooting on the grouse moors of Scotland, where some of the guns flew in using their own, private helicopters!

A couple of the policemen went up to Scotland each summer for the Grouse and earner over £100 per day doing what we had just done. Apparently the money was splashed about like confetti and a day’s shooting could cost each gun up to £20 thousand!! I nearly choked on my mug of tea at that. £20K for a day’s shooting? That is just silly.

Steve was of the opinion that Callie and I had done well, and the rabbit incident would certainly get me remembered for next time. I hope so. It was a really enjoyable day, tiring but great fun and a good work out for Callie. She flopped on the floor of the trailer and snoozed her little head off.  She did the same in the boot of Steve’s Freelander too, on the way back home. He asked me if I wanted both birds and I said one would do, why? He could get £40 for a brace at one of the pubs in the village, if I was interested? So I agreed and just took one pheasant to hang in the shed for a few days until Chrimbo. Steve will give me the dosh after he next goes to the pub.

It was dark when we got back and I had to wash Callie down. She was as mudded up as hell. Laura filled the large old linen basket with warm water and I made the magical pub stand in it while I washed her down. I then used two dog towels to dry her off. When I had done Laura came out on the back yard and said, “OK, strip off and get in. Your turn!”

Rather than strip in the back yard, which I have done before, we actually decamped to the bathroom where I did what I was told. Mmmm…. Delicious.

I was so pleased with the dog, the day and Laura’s reaction to my going. I had thought she might object but she was fine with it. It seems she had spent the day making a scrumptious beef casserole with suet dumplings and doing the entire backlog of her University work, so she has now completed her end of semester assignment a week before the semester ends. She has the same work ethic as me!

We spent the evening just chilling and playing each other songs with a connection. We had to guess the connection. This was rather silly and quite mentally taxing; especially with two Laura played where the connection was - “My sister bought them for me!” How was I supposed to know that?

An early night was the ideal end to a very busy day.

Sunday December 15^th.

I had a bit of a lie-in this morning. 7 am! I think the puppy was whacked out after all her exertions yesterday. Certainly her mistress was.  Callie didn’t pad upstairs at 6 as usual; she was finally out of her bean seat at about 6.50. I then spent a good 10 minutes play fighting with her on the bedroom floor whilst Laura slept on.

We had a ‘potter about morning’ made even less busy by the fact there was so much beef casserole left we didn’t need to prep anything for our lunch, just add a few more veggies. I did cook some spuds for a mash to go with it, but that was the extent of our efforts.

I Skyped Suze in Australia and was pleased to learn that my three boxes of pressies had arrived. Always good news.

The kids had wanted to open them immediately but Suze has told them they are Christmas presents and will wait until Christmas Day. Peter came on screen to gloat about Australia being just about to win back the Ashes. I have teased him about the last two Ashes defeats so much he is glad to get his own back. [I haven’t told him that there is a betting ticket, hopefully still in Annabelle’s purse, from the summer where I got 100-1 on a 5-0 series victory for Australia. I put $50 on at those odds. It seemed like a silly thing at the time but if the Okkers win the next two tests there will be $5K in prize money!]

I thanked Suze for the Western Australia calendars. She always sends two, a desk one in a CD case and a huge wall one. The wall one goes in my kitchen, I am going to take the desk one to my “broom cupboard”. She was surprised the present parcel hadn’t arrived though. She posted it ‘surface/air’ at the end of November. I told her I would call as soon as it got here.

They have all enjoyed looking at the CD of Jane’s ultra sound scans. It sparked a whole load of discussion in the family about babies and pregnancy and the like. Apparently Jeff is just grossed out by the whole idea. Not really a twelve year old’s thing I suppose.  Suze asked me the question: “Has it made you broody?” Sometimes my sister can be a pain. The girls wanted to know what being broody meant and Suze left me to explain. Thanks a bunch!

Annabelle asked her if she had been made broody looking at the new baby. She told Annabelle that three were enough for any one and anyway she was too old! She’s just turned 39! I had to bite my tongue at this, as part of my forward thinking is that I may delay children until my late thirties. The last thing you need to hear is that it is too late at 39. Especially if these words come from a nurse!

We spent a good 55 mins on the net together and I have promised to call again next Sunday from Dad’s house. He will be in transit to Warnbro by then and I will be house sitting. I hope he has got his broadband sorted out. It was buggered last time I was there, and the mobile phone mast was fcuked too, by the gales, so I was virtually incommunicado for the whole weekend!

I love being able to talk to the whole lot of my family like that. It is Star Trek technology in the 21^st century and it is so much better than writing or e-mailing. They all thought Callie’s turning a pheasant into a rabbit was funny and Suze did express the thought that she missed snow! They have been out in Aus since 2002 and haven’t had any white stuff at all. Jeff didn’t even know what snow was! How weird is that?

I told them if we got some in Cumbria [which we will] when I’m at Dad’s; I will parcel some up and sent it over, especially for them!

I had several more calls during the arvo. Mum. Felice. Phil and Jane. Mandy. Laura called her Mum, too, and explained what was happening over Christmas [again]. We are going up to Cumbria on Friday evening and driving Dad to Glasgow airport early on Saturday morning. We are staying in Cumbria until the end of January, returning to Sheffield for a week in the middle for two concerts and then again at a weekend for a play. That way we will not leave my little house empty for more than 30 days [insurance complications if we did] and we won’t miss the things we’ve booked in January. Molly has invited us both to her house for Christmas dinner – this will be a packed affair as her two older daughters [Kirsten and Avril], their spouses and their children are coming for it too! Laura has asked if she can decide in the week as I have silly plans afoot. She didn’t tell her Mum what those silly plans are.

I saw in the paper that UUK has decided to withdraw its segregationist guidelines to all Universities. Rah rah rah. Result for common sense.

We had a second early night in a row. We didn’t get to sleep immediately though…

The Students are revolting? No, it's the Staff! [Plus Mediaeval CSI.]

Monday December 9^th.

I walked the dog and we swam as usual this morning. Sarah was pleased to see me back and well. I only managed 30 lengths though. I decided it would be foolish to push it! I think I may have lost a few pounds in weight. Certainly looking at myself in the changing room mirror my boobs seemed bigger, always a sign that weight has come off me somewhere.

Last night when we got back from Dad’s I looked quickly at my e-mail account. 178 e-mails in three days! That’s what happens when your internet connection doesn’t work!

I ought to have checked my Uni e-mail account too, but didn’t! Durr. I rolled in this morning to be asked if I was OK for 11am. I had to ask for a quick recap of the requirements. [I am good at bullshitting if necessary.] I was expected to participate in a seminar with some MA students on Cathedrals, especially my work from Salisbury earlier this year!  Phew. That was a relief. I have all my notes on my tablet and some audio visual stuff, including some photo’s of records from the Cathedral archive and the Wiltshire County Archive too, which would normally be accessible only through their archivists in person.

It was a shock though. That’s for sure.

Mandy called at the broom cupboard and told me she was pleased to see me. Which was nice but in a slightly worrying way. Feli was just so full of Cumbria and Dad’s house and the party. No mention of a certain Mr Radford, though. I will wait. She is bound to spill if anything happened between them.

We had a long discussion in the refec about the Universities UK news and gender segregation. We Research Assistants called a meeting for tomorrow morning to present a united response to our Uni authorities. To be fair, they haven’t issued a statement (or anything) yet but we want to pre-empt any situation that might happen, by making our position clear.

This sounds as though it could spell serious trouble ahead. I mean, if some fucking Muslims don’t like to be in mixed gender groupings in our Universities, then fuck off back to some dark age country where segregation still happens. If this is allowed to take place what will happen next?

Religion is the biggest fucking cause of trouble on this planet!

Rant over. Sorry.

We spent a long time this afternoon trying to decipher a particularly crumpled piece of parchment but couldn’t. We had the idea of contacting the forensic science people who tested the cabinet in the first place. The person we spoke to sounded like they’d be up for a challenge, so we are off to see them tomorrow morning too. We could have a busy morning ahead.

Oh, the seminar? Pretty good, I think. I was able to give them an angle into the building of the new minister and the relocation to the present site which they hadn’t been aware of. Always nice to open people’s eyes. The big wows were my short films of various parts of the old site and the present minster. Only one of the students had actually been to Salisbury! I was incredulous at this fact, which caused some of them a little embarrassed. OK, they had been to other Cathedrals which sort of made up for it, I guess. My contribution was only one of many but I enjoyed the buzz it created.

Back home Laura and I had so much washing that it took two loads in the machine! Thank heavens for the old fashioned ceiling clothes drier. I can’t believe I let so much dirty washing build up while I was ill. I was so busy laundering PJs I forgot to do anything else! I blame the illness!

Mum phoned and is coming round tomorrow for her wine. Laura invited her to stay for tea, which will be a Lollster’s surprise!

Work at Dominic’s was manic, apparently. But she made £32 in tips! Sort of makes up for being rushed off your feet a little. Only a fortnight to go until the holidays. Why are they so late in starting this year?

Tuesday 10^th December.

50 lengths this morning.

Feeling like my normal self but there’s no point in over doing stuff. I have learnt my lesson from two weeks ago. For some reason there was a huge number of swimmers in today. [Working off the weight so they could pile it on at Christmas, perhaps?]

We had a meeting of RAs and other ancillary staff in a spare room at Uni this morning. There was a lot of strong feeling about UUK’s stance over segregation. There was a union rep there, which was useful. They said an individual response may put our heads above the parapet and the best course was for the Union to write a letter expressing our deep concerns but not singling any one person out by name. They are going to draft the thing and circulate it via e-mail today so we can amend it as appropriate before it is sent to the University Authorities. Rah rah rah. So begins a quiet revolution against those who worship a paedophile prophet [look up how old Ayesha was when Mohammad had sex with her]!

Had the first of the last meetings with my tutees this morning, which ate into our translation time but is fun. Mandy was there as always. She is definitely trying to ingratiate herself into my life. I am not sure what I should do about it. Laura and Feli are of the opinions that unless it becomes a problem ignore it. I have sent an e-mail to myself expressing my concern. That way I have dated documentary evidence of my concerns should anything arise. I guess this blog might also count as evidence too, mightn’t it?

My reception at XXX & Y was overwhelming. I hadn’t realised people would miss me so much or care about my welfare. At the Uni I haven’t been there long enough to be really well known but I have been at XXX & Y since September 2010 so I have a lot of friends. Mrs B was especially pleased as I had given her my Ensemble 360 tickets for Friday [5^th of December] and she had thought the concert was wonderful. Guess who came down, bearing a jar of his mother’s home made mincemeat. Er, what? Mincemeat? That is guaranteed to sweep a girl off her feet! He said if it like it he can get me loads more. I promised to bake some mince pies tonight for the ARR staff tomorrow. Christopher has been invited to come and sample them, too.

I have spent the day digitising records, which is becoming less inspiring as I go on. There have been no gory cases for a few hundred files now. This is a disappointment. Still, I will no doubt find some soon.

Mum came round for Dinner and to collect her wine. She was actually there, already, when I walked in. 

Laura’s surprise was a rabbit casserole. Rabbit! I am that impressed she was able to bring herself to cook with it. Mr Thompson [village butcher] gave her the rabbit in exchange for all the ones I had brought him in the past three years! Wasn’t that nice? She had cooked the rabbit with a red wine based stock and it was brilliant. So tender and succulent. Mum was surprised that she would like it so much.

We had a bottle of Hilmar’s new Red to go with it; his recommended Rulander. I have to say I agree with his opinion. It is the nicest Rulander I can remember drinking. Mum was disappointed she hadn’t got any in her 4 cases, so I agreed a swap: 6 Dornfelders for 6 Rulanders.

Mum stayed behind after Laura went off to the restaurant. We chatted about the Old Wine Party at Dad’s and my illness and the meeting about UUK and a whole host of topics. I asked her if she wanted to come and stay at Dad’s with me while he and Louisa were in Australia. She thanked me for the offer but thought it might bring back too many memories which she was trying to forget. I kept pressing anyway, and she has agreed to seriously consider it. [Dad bought out Mum’s share of the Cumbrian house when they divorced.]

I was thinking of a way to bring up Tim Carr, but couldn’t bring myself to do so. Instead we set to and made some mince pies using Christopher’s mother’s mincemeat. Mum said, “His Mum made this???”

I had to agree, it was very, very nice, indeed. There was enough in the jar [a big jar] for 18 pies but I am sorry to say we ate four almost at once as they came from the oven. Delicious. I am definitely going to see if I can buy some more from Christopher, I can’t really accept any more as a gift. Mum asked if I could get her two as well, that’s how tasty it was.

Laura arrived back to inform me that Dominic’s customers who had tried the Dornfelder had fallen in love with it. He has asked her, to ask me, for Hilmar’s phone number to see if he can buy some more – on a regular basis.

Wednesday 11^th December.

Made it to 60 lengths of the pool this morning. It is now so dark in the morning that we are leaving the pool with darkness still outside. I hate this month and his short days. I ache for the nights to get longer again and the dawn to come earlier. Today’s sunrise time was after 8 am!! I suppose we are quite lucky, in that our latitude means we get about an hour of growing light before the sun puts in its scheduled appearance. In Australia, dawn and dusk are almost like turning a switch.  You do get brilliant sunsets but they last only a few minutes.

At XXX & Y I tracked down Christopher and told him if his mum sold the mincemeat I would like 6 more jars, please. I think he was surprised. I also told him that if he came down to ARR at lunchtime, we were going to break out the mince pies I had made last night. He was like a bloody puppy with two tails!

I knew something would turn up. I found a case today about a foiled attempt to rob a security van taking the summer holiday wages to British Steel, Stocksbridge in the early 1980s. It was fascinating and would make a great plot for a story. The police had a tip off about it from one of the inside men and, according to the case notes, if it hadn’t been for the tip off the robbers would have got clean away. I’ll expand on this some other day.

Lunchtime in ARR, usually has us eating sangers etc at our desks and making gossip across the room with each other. [Unless we use the time to go off into town shopping.] Today I went round everyone offering them home-made mince pies. They went down a storm! I had to put one away especially for Christopher as the gannets in my department ate the lot! [OK, I did have three! They were my mince pies, though.]

Mrs B had one and pronounced it the best mince pie she had eaten. I told her that her nose was growing! She did admit to a bit of exaggeration but thought they were very good and certainly knocked shop bought ones into a cocked hat.

Christopher didn’t come down for his pie at lunch, so I internal mailed it to him during the afternoon. He sent me an e-mail back with the words “Thanks. Lovely!” Mmm… A bit ambiguous or what?

Home again to another surprise. A spag bol from Dominic’s restaurant for dinner. He had brought it as another thank you for the wine and my cake of last week. He had thoughtfully put the Parmesan into a bag rather than sprinkle it on top as he knows about my cheese allergy. That was so sweet of him. To do it justice we had a bottle of Vino Nobile de Montepulciano to go with it. It is one of my favourite Italian reds. I say ‘we’, I had the lion’s share, Laura had a single glass, because she was working. I promised I wouldn’t drink it all before she came back.

A quiet evening was spent listening to Parisfal on Radio 3. We started to listen during tea and I wallowed in it throughout the night, doing more sewing and accidentally finishing off all of the wine! Laura said she knew I would do that, especially listening to Wagner! I think that was a joke. I did offer to open a second bottle but she said she was thinking about other long round things she wanted to play with. I didn’t refuse the offer.

Thursday 12^th December.

I thought I would stick to 60 lengths until Monday, this morning. Why push it too far? But when it came down to it I pushed on to 70 with no trouble, so I kept going and decided to stop at 80. Laura is very solicitous for my welfare, making sure I am alright and not overdoing anything with the lengths. I guess I really did frighten her that morning when I sat back down on the bench and was sick. Despite swearing on everything I can think of she knows me too well to take what I say at face value too much. 

Today we had some sun at long last. Bloody typical really. Now I am back at work and not able to enjoy it as much.

More tutee meetings today. They will be their last before we go down for Christmas. Still three students to catch up, though. Maybe they didn’t get the e-mail. I resent it to them both rescheduling a time that fits with their timetables.

Translation akimbo today. We went to forensics and chatted to the techies who were going to try to make our parchment more legible. They thought they had a result! It seems they were able to photograph it using a different sort of light source which made the images on the paper stand out more clearly. I don’t really understand the science but the upshot is that we now have a computer generated version of our parchment which we can read. Rah rah rah.

There is a downside to it though. The new images while being legible are merely a bloody inventory! Dullsville really.

We went down into town this lunchtime and had a wander among the Christmas stalls in the peace garden and Fargate. There was some nice stuff on display but I think a lot of it was really over-priced! I’ve been doing most of my Chrimbo pressie buying on line, for the ones I have still to get that is. What did we do before internet shopping?

The letter to the Uni Authorities has been agreed and sent. I am not going to reproduce it her but essentially it says if the University acts in any way that is discriminatory [or condones any discriminatory actions by any person or society within the University we will report the action to the Equal Opportunities Commission. Gender discrimination is still a criminal offence! Not exactly manning the barricades but enough warning to let the powers that be know what we feel. Plus there is no one person’s name on the letter to become a target for the authorities.

The Union rep has sent a copy of our letter to every University in the country, especially UCL, where the whole stupid thing started.

It isn’t the students who are revolting this time, it’s the staff! LOL. On the grapevine, I understand that the Student’s Union is also making similar representations to the Uni on the matter. So they bloody well should. It is they who are being discriminated against anyway!

Mandy, was of the opinion that most of the student body have no idea of the fuss that has been caused at UCL, they are more concerned with going out and getting pissed / laid or both. Surely some exaggeration on her part?

Laura agreed to some extent with Mandy but thought their apathy stemmed from having to pay such a high price to be here, they didn’t want to do anything to jeopardise that! I think students here seem less promiscuous and wild-living than I remember from my time as an Undergraduate which is only 5 years ago. [Approximately]

The T shirts that caused offence at UCL are available on campus. I have bought one. It has a picture of two people who must be Jesus and Mohammad carrying placards saying Don’t Laugh at Our Religions. Jesus has a speech bubble saying, “It doesn’t seem to be working.” Mohammad has one which says, “Yeah, I know. Let’s go and burn something!” I think it is a brilliant cartoon and if people are offended by it they deserve to be. Our society is based on freedom of speech not kowtowing to Dark Age religions who don’t like our ways!

Laura made even more in tips tonight than on Monday. The Christmas party season is obviously lucrative. She was still rushed off her feet and pretty whacked by the time she got in. I offered to give her a massage using the body butter stuff we have, so after her shower she lay on the bed and I set to. She was fast asleep before I had finished her back!

  

Weekend Party at Dad's house.

Friday December 6th.

 Laura did the dog walk this morning, though I felt as right as ninepence, TBH, and then went swimming. While she was out I made some porridge for breakfast and had a personal call from the Milko who came to tell me the milk would have to go up to 60p a pint in the New Year. I think it is still worth it to have our milk delivered on the doorstep every morning. So I told her I was Ok with that. 

Laura brought two reminders [one each] from Sarah that our three month swim passes expire on Dec. 31st when she came back in. It just adds up doesn’t it? In the post came a letter from e.on telling me my electricity charges were going up by 3.8%. Good job I went on their website two months ago and had them fixed for two years at the old rate, eh?

 I had two calls when the Lollster had gone off to Uni. One from Mum asking about her wine and one from Mandy again! I explained to Mum that we were off up to Dad’s for the weekend and if she wanted to collect her four cases I’d leave them on the dining table. She was happy to wait until we came back down so she could see me rather than just let herself in like a thief in the night!

 I also had another visitor. Dominic actually made it up the lane to knock at my front door! Nobody who knows me uses the front door; they know to go through the passage way and along to the back one. I guess he was intimidated by walking through people’s back gardens, perhaps? He was really really nervous as Callie continued to bark as I let him in. I mean he was quite scared of her. It surprises me at times because I know she is a gentle as a lamb but her bark does sound terrifyingly loud and ferocious I suppose. I whapped her on the head with a cushion and she stopped, but went to give him a serious sniffing instead.

 Poor guy was stood there, almost literally quaking in his boots. I had to call her away in the end. I wonder if dogs can sense if someone is scared of them? I was able to get Callie to let him be and brought him on through to the kitchen. He had a seat and I made him a cup of tea. He was surprised by my twenty varieties of Earl Grey to choose from and seemed at a loss. In the ended he selected some from the elephant shaped caddie [Williamson’s]. I hoped that the reason for his visit wasn’t something to do with Laura and her job and being the forthright person I am, I asked him straight out.

It wasn’t la bellissima bambina at all, it was to deliver a present.

It turns out he wants to thank my Dad for bringing him some of Hilmar’s wine so he has brought a voucher for a complimentary meal for four at the restaurant for Dad. Isn’t that sweet? I explained that we were going up to his house tonight so I would give it to him almost immediately. He is still not entirely convinced that Laura is a maths undergraduate, he cannot comprehend how someone so beautiful could be interested in something so dull.

I went and fetched a few of her note books from the study to show him. They are immaculate. Tiny neat handwriting, rows of figure, graphs, charts. Her work looks like a text book itself. I am not sure if they convinced him but he certainly was impressed. So was I, TBH, especially a fractal she had drawn [inside the back cover of one of her books] which had the words “Laura loves Vicki” reworked in it over and over again. This was particularly affecting for me because it was in one of her note books from when she was a sixth former! [That’s before we were even an item!]

I offered Dom a second cup, and remembering my manners asked him if he’d like some cake with it. He said, “Do you have some?” Well, no, why would I ask otherwise? I nodded and told him it was one of my lemon meringues, there were probably two slices left. OMG. He went into bloody raptures about the thing! He asked several times if I had actually made it. Then he went on about how delicious it was. How he couldn’t believe I would be such a good baker! Thanks a bunch Dominic! I don’t think he meant it to be insulting, I am putting it down to his none too perfect English. He said he remembered Laura had mentioned something about me being a wizard in the kitchen and he had just dismissed it from his head.

We then had a long chat about what sorts of things I baked and cooked. He told me about his childhood in Italy and then South London. How he’d always wanted to cook. It was fascinating. He finally wobbled off at about 11 am. It was really weird having him pay me a visit. I do like him a lot. He is sweet and funny and he does amazing food at his restaurant, although he does employ a chef he likes to “keep his hand in”. He also fawns over Laura like she was his daughter.

The Italian’s surrogate daughter and our French floozie arrived home at 1pm all ready to zoom off.

They were like a pair giggly school girls, “We’ve done a bunk!” Cried Laura! We stowed Felice’s car on our front garden and the four of us set off for Dad’s house. 10 minutes later we were back again as Feli had brought her work bag, not her travel bag, from her car! Honestly!

Laura drove us without incident to an empty house just north of Cockermouth. Louisa and Dad were nowhere to be found. I texted the Aged P to let him know we’d arrived, although I may have well as sent up smoke signals, as he never uses his mobile.

 Wrong! Inside two minutes I had a reply saying “Make yourselves at home, we are in Carlisle at the Christmas market.” That was a first.

Feli was stunned as we’d driven along the A66. The mountains were all out of the cloud and Skiddaw had snow on top. She thought the whole place was magnificent. I knew we had too little time to walk in the fells, so we all took Callie up Tallentire Hill where we could see the entire north western vista of the Lake District spread out before me. I started at Meal Fell in the extreme east and named every fell top for her, sweeping from East to West ending at Knock Murton above Cogra Moss.

Feli said, “You’re just making those names up!” Laura came to my defence with, “No she isn’t. She has climbed them all, and I have done over half of them with her too!”

I gave her a huge hug and kissed her.

Feli then wanted to know what the huge concrete shape we were standing next to was, so I explained what trig points were and how they were used to triangulate height above sea level. She’d never heard of them.

As we walked back into the village Laura said (in the most depressing voice) “I suppose I’d better go and see my folks…” I asked her if she wanted us to come with us, but she said if her Dad was there it would only wind him up and she’d not be stopping, if her Mum was alone she’d be about an hour.

Back home the Aged P and Louisa had arrived with the largest piece of hand reared pork for our evening meal (unless we wanted to go to the pub?) The pub won! The pork was from the Carlisle Christmas Market, which, according to Louisa was just a continental market in disguise. The meat had come from the Made in Cumbria section. The place was quite busy though and they’d had paella from a Spanish stall, which was delicious.

Laura arrived after an hour, her Dad was away on a job until Sunday morning (he’s a lorry driver). We showed Feli her room and told her she could either use the family bathroom or the en-suite in my room. She fell in love with my room. It’s hard not to really. It’s still how I decorated it when I was a sixth-former, so it’s lacy and flowery and has fairy lights and a couple of Maxfield Parrish prints. We told her she could kip on my sofa bed if she wanted but she said she didn’t want to be a goosebump. [I had to explain it was gooseberry!]

She loved the view from the north window and asked what the water was. So I told her it was the Solway Firth and the land beyond it was Scotland. She wanted to know how far Scotland was, and could we go? I had to disappoint her by telling her although it was only about 15 miles across the Solway, the shortest land route took us into Carlisle, through there and on to Gretna. That is about 35 miles. Round to the bit you can see clearly from my window: Southerness Point and Criffel is about 65 miles by road.

"If you come and stay again," I promised her, "we can all drive round – on a nice day!"

Dinner in the pub was fun. Dad is well known in there and even his gobby cow daughter is welcomed by name. I think the locals were taken with Felice and her Gallic ways and she turned on the flirting to almost every guy in there!

Dad whispered to me, “Is she always like this?”

 I replied, “Only when she is unsure of herself, or nervous.”

 “Bloody funny way of showing you’re nervous, if you ask me!”

 “She’s French Dad!”

Laura and I had trout from Gilcrux Sprngs, which is the first I have had for a while. (It wasn’t included on the seafood platter on Tuesday night.) Dad and Louisa had the venison and Felice decided she would try the Cumberland sausage. She was amazed when this roll of sausage appeared on her plate held together in its swirl by a wooden skewer. She got stuck in though, like a person who has been fasting for weeks.

When she’d finished she declared that whoever made the sausage was obviously French. As most of the English sausages she’d had before were bland and tasteless.

We cracked two bottles of Dad’s old Dornfelder back home and planned our day on Saturday. If it was fine enough we were going to take her up Vicki’s Fell and then onto the Kirkstile Inn for lunch. In the evening we had Dad’s old wine party to look forward to.

Feli asked, “What about the afternoon?”

Louisa chimed in with, “Believe me, love, you’ll be too tired to want to do anything in the afternoon!”

At the time that seemed hilarious, writing it now makes me wonder….


 Saturday December 7th.

 Grey and mild best sums up the morning.

 The cloud ceiling looked low, but it wasn’t raining at Dad’s, always a fairly reliable sign for what the weather in the Lorton Valley will be doing, so after breakfast we set off in two cars for Lanthwaite Wood car park.

I'd had a long chat with Lollster over night and I promised I would not over do anything, and at the first sign of feeling unwell I would head back to the car and just drive round to the Kirkstile. She seemed happy with this, and to be honest, I did feel almost like my old self again. Just shows that four days of doing nothing might just be what the doctor ordered, LOL!

I spent a good hour showing her just how recovered I was, before we went to sleep!

 As if there was an anti-Vicki conspiracy going on, Dad spelled out the same thing to me in the car park, but Laura did say if I felt bad, she would come down with me and take me to the pub. I can’t complain I suppose.

 Callie and Dad’s three dogs made a bee-line for the river and of course they had a splash, paddle, drink and swim before we’d even set off. The car park had only two other vehicles in it but it was only 9.45. Early for the grockles, who would still be in their hotels and guest houses.

 After much debate and consultation with sickly daughter, we decided to go the direct route to the top of the fell. This is pretty steep for about 100 yards, then it levels off; we scramble through a rock face; then have some more levelled off sections through the woods, before a final grassy pull to the top. It really is a doddle.
A granny walk! Even me feeling ill could manage it, me feeling better - it would be a breeze. The steep section does sort out the fit from the unfit, or the well from the unwell. I was good for the first 60 yards or so and then had a major coughing fit. Dad was all for sending me back, but I insisted I’d be just fine.

Laura came and hugged me and whispered in my ear, “You die on this hill and I’ll never forgive you!”

I was fine really, the only illness I had left was just a cough.

On the level section I felt good and through the rock face we had to go really slowly as Feli found it a bit scary. I guess it could be scary if you aren’t used to it. The drop is only about forty feet but it looks like a chasm. The level bit through the woods was all closing down for winter. The branches were almost all denuded and the bracken had disappeared.

At the intake wall we had a surprise, someone had put up a brand, spanking, new gate. It certainly makes a great change from the rickety stile and dog flap that were there before. [Yours Truly put the dog flap in a few years ago. I know you shouldn’t but getting Callie and all Dad’s dogs over the rickety stile was a nightmare, so one Saturday morning, armed with a few simple tools and a piece of wire mesh, I had made a dog flap. Don’t tell the National Trust! I told you I was a practical girl.]

There were hundreds of newly planted trees in the hollow below the summit, all in their brown corrugated plastic tubes. They seemed to be a mixed bag of deciduous trees, which will make a change from all the pines.

You get a brilliant view from this little summit. It is normally called Lanthwaite Hows but we call it Vicky’s Fell. It is mine because Dad gave it to me when I was a little girl. [OK, it isn’t his to give, but it was a lovely gesture for a small wee fell walking novice.] When there is no cloud you can see right down the valley to Great Gable and just poking between Gable’s shoulder and Kirk Fell is a tiny sliver of Scafell Pike. It was too cloudy today, but Felice loved the view anyway. She challenged me to name the Fell tops. [Dad told her not to have a bet!] So I started at Harrot Hill, just above Cockermouth and worked my way all the way round to Hatteringill Head on the opposite side of the valley to Harrot Hill.

Even Dad was impressed! [I am a show off at times!] I could also show her where Tallentire Hill was, way off to the north.

 Laura came and hugged me as Louisa poured out some tea from one of the flasks. “I love you, you know? How are you feeling?” I told her I was feeling perfect and even more so because I loved her too.

The tea had whiskey in it, which was a surprise but welcome. We then had a pow-wow as to which route to take down to the Lake side. We were heading for the Kirkstile Inn for lunch, which we pointed out to Feli who said, “But it’s miles away!”

I suggested we down cut through the diagonal slice that would bring us back to the fish ladder direct, so that is what we did. The fish ladder at the end of Crummockwater is my absolute favourite place in the whole world. There are several benches placed on the shore so you can look south along the length of the lake [to Gable again in the distance]. I could sit her all day just taking in the scenery. In the summer this is a marvellous place for swimming. As a toddler I was allowed to splash about to my heart’s content in the water as the lake floor shelves away really slowly so it is relatively safe.

There are several great pools just down river from the fish ladder which we began to use when I was older and a more proficient swimmer. One had a rope swing out over it which was brilliant; the branch which held it broke off ages ago, sadly. Dad and I strung an old climbing rope across the pool from the same tree to one on the far bank, but the farmer who owns the far bank cut it down apparently! Old meany!

The stroll to the Kirkstile is just that, a stroll. No hills, no surprises, just a pleasant amble round the foot of Melbreak and there you are. You are allowed to take dogs into the pub before 6pm so we scurried in to monopolise the fire. We soon had four steaming dogs drying off and spreading wet dog smell through the bar. [I had beef baguette and chips. Everyone either had a baguette or soup and a sandwich. The pub had its mulled wine machine on the counter again so I had a huge glass of that, too.] 

The return journey traces the route from the fish ladder and then you can either stay close to the banks of the Cocker or take the woodland path. Dad decided the woodland path would give the pups a chance to dry out a bit, so we went that way.

We were back at Dad’s by 2pm. We were all showered and refreshed by 3pm and most of us decided to turn in for a swift siesta!

Louisa was right!

The Party.

It started at about 8pm. Dad had invited loads of people from the village, several of his University colleagues, a few sailing or climbing chums and some of the quiz team. Molly and Eric were invited [Laura’s folks] but as Eric was working Molly came alone. 

The salmon was huge. It was done en-croute and almost filled the dining table by itself. This was surrounded by dish after dish of salads of various kinds; dips and crudities; other sliced meats; a whole array of pickles. Not a bloody vol au vent or open sandwich in sight! There was a huge pile of sliced baguettes, but sword sized ones, not the mini ones we had at the pub for lunch. The main reason for the "do" was to drink up Dad’s logjam of wine, so there were bottles and bottle of Uncle Hilmar’s wine for everyone. All the guests were told NOT to bring any wine, they could bring other alcohol if they wished but the wine was on the house.

Dad has done this for ever. [It used to be Mum and Dad who did it originally, which reflection made me a bit sad. However, it was nice the tradition was continuing.]

My first experience of being drunk was at one for these affairs when, with a cousin down from Scotland, we disappeared behind the sofa with a half bottle of port. I don’t remember this, of course, but it gets retold quite often. We were both very wobbly and incomprehensible, apparently. The cousin, unfortunately, is often like that to this day.

Dad’s colleague Michael was there; as you’d expect. He is the one whom I snogged for ages after Dad’s wedding in 2012. I was anticipating trouble from that direction but he seemed to have eyes for our exotic French friend and spent ages engaged in conversation with her. Phew! Molly had a great time and bent my ear about how the move to Sheffield was being the making of her daughter. She was more assertive and outgoing and had been transformed in a way that she hadn’t been at Lancaster. There, it seems, she was a continuation of the shrinking violet she had been all through school. I had to smile to myself at the thought of some of the sexual activities this shrinking violet had dreamed up for her and her girlfriend! She was no violet in the bedroom! I obviously didn’t tell Molly this!

I circulated and chatted, flirted and joked, ate and drank. I thought it was a Swell Party. I was able to talk to almost all the guests, even Mr Radford, who treated me with a formality which I found quite amusing – especially when you consider he thought he was on a promise with me last year!

 The dining table looked like a plague of locusts had descended; the salmon had all gone by 10.30. I had to slice up another dozen baguettes during the evening and we replenished three of the larger salad dishes over and over again; the Pasta one seemed to empty as soon as we filled it.

Earlier I had counted up the guests in the house and we had over 60 people munching, slurping, laughing and frolicking. Dad sent me and Laura on room watch at one point and we turfed two couples out of bedrooms, reminding them that the party was downstairs not up in mine or Dad & Louisa’s bedrooms!

That was a bit embarrassing to be honest!

As is typical with these things, the people with kids vanished around midnight leaving a rump of hard core, die hard party goers who wanted to continue into the wee small hours. By about 2am there were a dozen of us left in our lounge, squashed onto sofas, perched on bean seats, two to an armchair [Felice and Michael] and just sprawled on the floor with their heads against some furniture or other as they saw fit.

Laura and I had hogged the two seater sofa by the hifi, and so were put in charge of the music. This was a task we found rather awkward as I had arranged myself in such a way that Loll’s naughty little fingers could keep moving in and out of my underwear as we sat there. It was heaven. Thank goodness most CDs last an hour. On the change of CD we swapped positions and I did to her what she’d been doing for me! As we were sort of hosts, I thought we couldn’t just up and leave and head for the bedroom, which was a pity.

The last guest departed at 3.45 and Laura and I walked Callie through the village for her final walk of the day. We had a major snog in the village bus shelter [I bet it has been used for that purpose for many years] and then rushed back home where we threw each other’s clothes to the wind and just went for it.


 Sunday December 8th.

 I had a lie in this morning. I didn’t get up until 7.45.

I took my temperature before getting dressed 36.2! Rah rah rah. I was about 36.5 on Saturday but I am normally 36.2 [or .1 or .3] so I know I am well again.
I felt it too! I don’t get hangovers from Wine, for some reason. I do from spirits and things like punch, but not wine. Although to be fair, I probably only drank one bottle the whole night.

The Aged P was also up and about clearing the debris. I asked if he wanted his three taking out with Callie, he said yes, so I wended my way through the village with four dogs in tow. It was only just becoming light and there was a faint drizzle in the air. I decided to take them only half way up Tall Hill and was pleased I did because as I rounded the last bend you couldn’t see the top of the hill at all. It had a hat of cloud covering its head. Looking south you could see this cover was like a blanket over all the fells, even the lower ones.

Not a day for walking in the National Park. Back home I helped Dad clear up the blitz in the kitchen and dining room and then we stood and had a hug in the kitchen. He kissed my forehead. I love it when he does that. He started to smiled, “Did you really evict Mrs Johnston from my bedroom?”

“Yes, about quarter to twelve. We must have caught them just right, as they were still clothed, lying on the bed eating each other’s faces! God knows what I’d have done if I had found then actually bonking.” 

“I expect you’d have fetched me?”

 “I expect I’d have probably filmed them and used it as blackmail material…” We had a laugh at that. 

“Speaking of blackmail material, I think your French friend took Michael to bed with her last night!” 

“Oh bugger!”

I reflected on how in character that was for Feli, as we continued to tidy up.

Dad has this system of using disposable plates and cutlery for his parties [years of experience] so we spent most of the time just piling stuff into bin bags or ferrying bottles to the recycle wheelie bin. We rationalised the remaining food items into fewer bowls which we put in the fridge and then stacked the dishwasher with the rest. Apart from a swift vacuuming, the majority of the clear up was done.

Dad said, “Fancy a full English?”

 “Do I?!”

So we set to and began cooking a proper fry up breakfast. Dad did sausage, tomato and bacon; I did mushrooms, beans and fried eggs. We’d just plated up two meals when Laura and Louisa appeared.

They had our two breakfasts and we started again. This time when we’d finished no-one else turned up so we joined the 2 “L”s at the kitchen table. Yummy in my Tummy.

I asked what we were going to do today. Laura said she’d better go home to see her Dad or she’d just get an ear bashing later. I had just said I would take the dogs onto Maryport beach when Feli put in an appearance. She didn’t want a fried breakfast and the very mention made her go a little green around the gills. She had some toast and asked what we were doing. Laura explained that I was walking the dogs and she was going to see her Folks. Feli asked if she could come with me, so after brekkers we piled into Dad’s Citroen and headed for Maryport.

The clouds were still quite low but the earlier drizzle had dried up. I drove through Maryport, which has a look of an Eastern European country about it to my jaundiced eyes, and round past the harbour to park at the start of the prom.

The tide was out so I slipped my walking boots on [Feli was in borrowed Wellies] and we went out on the beach right to the water’s edge. This is quite a way out and we had to cross old red sandstone bedrock and loads of loose boulders as well as many streamlets of sea water making their way back to the Solway.

The dogs chased and gambolled like puppies and all of them were well trained enough to not go into the sea without being given permission. One wet dog to dry is a trouble, four are a riot!

I fished two ball wangers from my rucksack, gave a ball and wanger to Feli and then I ball wanged along the sandy bits of the beach, Feli had a go with hers, too, and we had dogs scampering all over the place retrieving wanged balls.

We did all this as we walked slowly north towards Allonby. When we got level with the golf course at the end of the prom I told her it was time to turn back. She seemed a bit disappointed but brightened when I told that we weren’t just retracing our steps, we were going along the cliff top path to the Roman Museum.

The cliff isn’t a rock one, like at St Bee’s further south, it is more sand dunes and boulders but it rises nicely up to about 100 feet above the waves. The view across to Scotland is even better here, because of that height and I was able to point out all the places I knew along the Galloway coast line.

At the Roman Museum we stopped and Felice said she’d like to have a swift look round if that was OK with me. I was fine with it and gave her an hour, by which time I’d have walked the dogs back to the car and driven round and up to the museum car park. Before I left, though, I had a cup of their delicious hot chocolate drink which is a treat I used to have here when I was younger. I chatted with the curator for a while whilst drinking my chocolate and was surprised to learn a lot of the staff were volunteers.

Seems like a nice thing to do, doesn’t it?

I sauntered down the cliff path to the car park and wiped the dogs’ paws in turn. That was a long old job with four to do. I then drove through the town and up to the museum.

No Feli. So I sat for a few minutes until she came out. She thought it was amazing that so many artefacts could have been found here so I was able to don my historian’s hat and explain the Solway defence system to her as we went back to Dad’s.

Laura, her Mum and Dad and Stephen came round for lunch, to help demolish the pork. I could see Eric couldn’t quite work out Feli at all. He is quite funny at times.

Laura’s folks wandered off back home at about 4pm, just as it was going dark and we packed up for the drive home. Laura drove the first bit then I finished the drive over Woodhead.

We arrived back in the village at 7pm which wasn’t too bad. Feli scooted off to Crosspool immediately and we unpacked and showered before a relaxing snog, snuggle and cuddle on the sofa, listening to Mozart. I asked Laura if she thought Feli had slept with Michael. She didn’t know. Felice hadn’t said anything about it on our walk, nor dropped any hints.

Maybe dad was wrong?

Covering myself in dirt as a penance. Wine delivery. Mum's sex life?

Monday 2nd December.

I was a good girl. Honest!

I took things nice and steady. I didn’t do anything to over tax myself. I didn’t bend the doctor’s orders.

Well, not too much.

OK, I admit it, I did wash the kitchen floor. [It was really dirty! Honestly!] I took three hours to do it and had a rest and sit when I started to feel whacked out.

I had plenty of time to do things today as my visitors seemed to have dried up. Last week they were like Sheffield buses; all of them arriving at the same time! Today I had ‘nary a wun’ as my Gran would say. That’s Scottish Gran, obviously. Perhaps I ought to have given them all timed and dated tickets so I could have spread them all around. Never mind, I had books to read, sewing to start, e-mails to send, Y!A etc etc. 

However, after sitting around for a few hours just watching the kitchen floor get dirtier and dirtier by the second, I simply had to get up and clean the bugger.

Despite my not doing anything strenuous, when Laura came home we had a huge row about me cleaning the kitchen floor. She sat down on a dining chair and cried after we’d had a stupid shouting match. She pushed me away when I tried to hug her, and stomped up the stairs saying, “I am going for a shower!”

A few minutes later I went in the bathroom to talk to her. She was sitting on the loo, drying between her toes. She stopped, gasped, stared at me and started laughing.

While she was in the shower I had stripped down to my undies, snuck out into the back garden and smeared myself all over with soil from the raised beds. In my hair, up and down my legs and arms, over my front and face. I had even tried to smear my back with dirt but misjudged the position of the bed a bit and might have scratched it instead on the wall. I didn’t mess up the soles of my feet that would have made the house a mess, and I didn’t want that.

“I’ll stay like this all night if you want, just to show you how sorry I am!”

I was hoping like buggery she wouldn’t say yes because I was beginning to get really twitchy about being so messy. I tried to hide it, but I am sure she must have realised how horrible I felt being dirty, never mind having upset her so much. I think she might have had an inkling of my inner torment… “Go and make me a cup of tea and I will consider my position!”

I scurried back down the stairs and did as she asked.

Two mugs of Empress Earl Grey on a stainless steel tray winged their way to the bathroom, where Laura’s position was now back in the shower. “Get in!” So I did. She hugged me despite the dirt and we kissed for what seemed like ages with the shower playing over us both. We both washed my hair, which was absolutely gopping! When she started attacking my stained limbs with the loofah mitt she couldn’t help smiling.

“You scared me last week. I don’t want you to be ill. You mustn’t be so stubborn about stuff like that. Bugs won’t be intimidated by your ‘sarcastic, over-educated, smart mouthed, ball-breaking little cow’ approach to life…  …did I miss any out?”

“Stuck up? Stupid? Perhaps?”

“One of the many things I love about you is the way you refuse to do what people expect or want, but when it’s the doctor telling you to do stuff, you must!”

“I know. But… in my head I don’t feel ill. It’s just that I feel so bloody helpless doing nothing. I have to do a tiny, weeny, little bit, at least?”

“No you don’t. Rest means REST. R E S T.  Rest! Not rest between dusting the picture rails or cleaning out the gutters, or repainting the eves! Rest, you idiot means…. You’ve grazed your back!”

“Rest means I’ve grazed my back? I thought it meant not dusting the pic….”

“Stop it! Or I’ll lose this loofah somewhere you wouldn’t like me to lose it!”

“Oh bugger. I probably did it when I was trying to lie down on the soil of  raised bed… I missed.”

“How can you miss a four foot wide, twelve foot long patch of earth?”

“It takes skill, I can tell you. And a hell of a lot of sarcastic, over-educated, smart mouthed, ball-breaking, stupid little cowiness too! “

She gave me a thorough wash. We then dried ourselves off together.

We were half expecting to get a call from one our neighbours… “Is everything alright? I thought I saw…” but we didn’t. Plus, it was quite dark by the time I went al fresco body painting. And pretty chilly out there.

We had our dinner and Laura zoomed down to the restaurant asking if I was going to behave or did I need handcuffing to the radiator? I told her I’d prefer being handcuffed to the bed again, and she said she’d do that when I was better. Mmmm….

Tuesday 3^rd  December.

I woke up with me underneath Laura’s shoulder with her hand clutched against my heart. How long we’d lain like that I have no idea. My PJs were not soaked with sweat and I felt a bit like my old self again. I was so much like my usual self I let my fingers wander inside Laura’s shorts. I thought she was asleep, but she muttered, “Don’t start something you can finish…” I started! She finished! Quite noisily for her, she is usually pretty restrained when the big O rolls in, but this morning she let rip.

I giggled, “Well, that will have woken the neighbours…”

Her reply was, “See if you can do better!” I was going to try, but instead I let the sensations engulf me.

When she got back from the dog walk and swimming I had made breakfast [bacon butties] and had news. “Mum phoned. No, there’s no problem. She’s dropping by this morning. Then immediately afterwards Dad phoned, they have just crossed the German border. They should be here on schedule.”

“Are they colluding, do you think?”

Laura left for Uni and I had two more calls. One from Kaybers, and one from Mandy, both wanting to know how I was. I told Kaybers the saga of the cleaned floor which she thought was hilarious. She said she always thought I was a dirty little girl. I just told Mandy I was feeling a bit better and that I’d be back in on Monday. 

That seemed to disappoint her and cheer her up in equal measure.

Mum dropped by at 9.30. How can you drop by from Holmesfield to Oughtibridge? We are at opposite sides of the City! She wanted to explain about Tim. I told her there was no need to explain anything, she was my Mum and therefore old enough to do what she wanted, without needing my permission. [LOL]  I wasn’t the person who needed to know anything, really. She agreed but wanted to tell me about Tim anyway. She thought after our frank convos in Australia this summer, I would be OK with that. I am.

So she did. I am not going into the details but I see where she is coming from. She told me that she hasn’t healed up down below [MUM!] and still wants the occasional sex. I think I would like to be sexually active when I’m sixty too. She is lucky that she is still attractive enough for a man to want to have sex with her, too. I didn’t tell her that. [I bet he wouldn’t mind fucking her daughter, as well. I have seen the way he looks at me…]

I told her Dad was coming later on, with the wine, and I’d let her have her cases asap. She always asks me to get extra, just for her, so she doesn’t have to feel grateful to Dad. I can sort of understand that. I was surprised the fact that Dad had a twenty years younger bride into whom he can hide his sausage wasn’t brought up in our chat, but I am sure the idea was lurking in there somewhere. I think it was more the thought that he had MARRIED Louisa, rather than just have sex with her which had got Mum so wound up last year.

Mum left at about 11.30. She must have handed the baton on to Feli who appeared at almost the moment she’d left. In fact I asked her if she’d seen Mum, but she hadn’t. I realised I was being stupid when I looked at the clock, it was 1.15! I had dropped off for about almost two hours. Almost better? Ha!

She had zoomed over during her lunch break to see me as Loll had met her and told her about our row. I had another ear bashing from my French chum, telling me almost the same things that Laura had, last night!  I explained that I had learned my lesson and was going to be a sensible girl from now on.

She said she doubted whether I would ever be sensible and kissed me. I mean a real proper, lover’s kiss! I pulled away and she said, “Don’t worry, I am just showing you I love you and that I want you to get better. I am not going to make love to you.” Presumptuous madam! “You wouldn’t let me if I wanted to, anyway. But I thought that it would let you know that I value you as my friend and Yes, I do love you. You are ma sœur!” 

I think I get what she means. I just hope she doesn’t show it by kissing me again. I may forget myself.

Foolishly, I asked her if she’d like to come with Laura and me when we next went up to Dad’s. [Erm.. Memo to brain! Think before you speak!] She thought it could be lovely. I explained that there are plenty of bedrooms and the Lake District is only a spit away. She has no idea what the Lake District is. So it should be an eye opener for her, if she takes up my offer.

She loved the design for the next casket embroidery. She is embarrassed by her lack of sewing skills. I explained that I had been doing it for so long I had not even registered it as anything special, it is just something I did. In fact I don’t usually mention it all, when I come to think of it.

I had a go at the Times crossword after Feli had gone. 25 minutes! That is pretty poor. Maybe my brain is fogged by the illness. That’ll be the reason! LOL.

At about four I had a surprise visit from Jane and the Kids. The kids’ school had a training day and had wanted to go Christmas Shopping at Meadow Hall. Then they wanted to pop in to see Aunt Vicki and show her the next baby pictures. So that was what they’d done.

Like a prat I believed it until, spot on time, in rolled the Aged Parent and step mum! Wanted to pop in and show Aunt Vicki the next baby pictures? Yeah, right. Dad didn’t even feign surprise he just asked if she wanted the wine putting in her car! Phil bought 24 bottles [4 cases] just to show willing. I had 24 cases on order, of course 4 were for Mum. Dad and I moved P & Js wine into her car and then wheeled my pile round to my back door on my garden trolley. I let Dad carry them down into the cellar, where I arranged them by grape variety in my cupboard. My 144 bottles cost me £150! Hilmar is a saint. He only charges Dad £1 per bottle! Dominic’s lot (another 4 cases) were charged at £5 per bottle as he isn’t family!

I made copies of all the ultra sound discs for Dad and one of the latest for me and Mum. Lollster arrived just as Jane was leaving so they had a few brief words while Dad, Louisa and I sorted out the spare bedroom for them both. They are only staying overnight; breaking the long journey from Cochem to Cumbria.

Also in the car the wonderful aged P. had brought two huge seafood platters from Auchan which they’d 

bought before boarding the shuttle. Dad and I were relegated into the lounge while Lou and Loll prepared our dinner. I told him about the row over me cleaning the kitchen floor and he just laughed. Apparently I was a “Bloody Nightmare” when I was ill as a child. This was news to me but Dad insisted it was the case. I have a suspicion he may be lying! He said if Laura was standing up to my foolish neuroses then she was an angel as far as he was concerned. Somebody needed to stand up to me full stop. End of.

I hit him with my cushion and he hit me with his; and we had a cushion fight which only ended when I had a major coughing fit. Laura came in to see what the matter was, to find Dad whacking me with the flat of his hand in the middle of my back and me yelling, “Ouch! That’s not helping!” She went back to the kitchen and missed my pearl of a backhanded bolster flick which caught Dad full square on the nose. Being a bolster it was a bit denser than an ordinary cushion and it produced a prodigious stream of blood from his proboscis! 

It was a good job there was a box of tissues on the coffee table.

This time they both came in from the Kitchen. They didn’t say anything, just gave us the Paddington Bear treatment.  I am used to this so I just clammed up but Dad started bleating, “It was Attila the Hunstress here. She whacked me with a house brick, cleverly disguised as a cushion. Right on the end of my nose.”

“Yes but why? Oh bleeding father mine! Why?”

“Because you were having a coughing fit to hide the fact you were losing the cushion fight! Oh whoops!”

Dad and daughter in the dog house?

Luckily the bleeding father didn’t get any spots on my furniture, or carpets, only in a handful [or two handfuls] of tissues. Also luckily Lou and Loll didn’t get annoyed or angry, which I was sort of expecting. Instead they seemed to find our childish behaviour quite funny and a bit silly and [rather sadly] totally to be expected.

When we were called through to the kitchen Dad had a wodge of tissue up the offending nostril which looked obscenely like one of the tampons which, I claimed earlier on, were stuffed up my nose! Because I was an invalid Dad insisted I be taken through to the kitchen on his back, piggy back. [I think he did that just to continue the childishness. It used to annoy Mum no end, but Louisa seems immune to it!]

As you’d expect from the French the selection of seafood was extensive and the taste gorgeous. We had some of my last year’s Riesling to wash it down and then a bottle of my GMP Dornfelder to finish. Yummy in our Tummies!

By about 9.30pm Dad was feeling done in, so he retired to bed leaving Louisa and I to chat in the lounge as we waited for Laura to get back from work. She said she was so envious of the relationship Dad and I had. She wished she and her Dad could mess about like kids the way that we do. I told her I had always seen Dad as a big brother rather than a Dad. We had been silly from almost the moment I started to talk. I think the rock climbing and sailing were what bonded us together more closely than most Dad / daughter relationships. Plus, the way I could always be trusted to seem a little adult when the occasion demanded rather than a little child helped too..

She said she had been told about the Formal Dinners at Dad’s Uni, and my wowing the Head of the History Faculty with my knowledge of Julius Caesar and Alesia aged 6! She told me I was like a female version of him in lots of ways. [I am not sure whether that was a compliment or not.]

She loved visiting Hilmar and the extended family. It opened up a new aspect of Dad’s life and personality for her. I explained that once she’d seen the Australian side of the family she would truly appreciate what makes Dad Dad! She is looking forward to going so much. I don’t blame her. Annabelle has told her masses about me and the things we did during our summer, when they have skyped with Susannah and Co.  She believes that the fact that Annabelle loves me so much and is full of my praise says a huge amount about my character and personality. [Is she after something? I wondered.]

Laura arrived at about 11.10 and had Dominic’s money for the wine. He was so pleased with it. She promptly went off again taking Callie for a walk. Louisa retired for the night, I waited until Laura returned and we hit the charp together. What a day!

Wednesday 3^rd December.

After Laura had walked Callie and been swimming, I asked Dad if we could come up this weekend. He was fine with it. I asked if I could bring Felice, he was fine with that too. Rah rah rah. Laura said she’d ask Felice if she wanted to come with us. [I just hoped Mandy wasn’t around when she asked.]

Dad and Louisa left at about 10am. I got a text at 1 o’clock from Dad to let me know they’d got home safely.

Today I was left alone again. No callers, not a visitor. Peace and quiet.

I read some more of my current book – the fifth Jasper Fforde. Did the first stitches on the casket’s second embroidery. Slowly prepped and then set the evening meal going.

That was it.

No washing, nothing strenuous. Just Vicki being a good girl all day.

Laura said Felice would love to come. She’ll follow Laura home on Friday and leave her car on our front garden. It makes sense to have just one car.

Little does she know Dad is planning a small do on Saturday night to finish off the remnants of last year’s wine. These are always good “do”s. No one is allowed to bring wine, so the guests bring food instead. It is great.

My uneventful day does make for a boring diary entry though!

Thursday December 4^th.

Wow. The wind. Phewee Musky!

Laura came back this morning battered and buffeted by the gales blowing outside. Callie was really hyper. The wind makes her a bit mad. She was keen to go out again after Laura had gone, so we went to the end of the garden and I ball-wanged into the field for her until she was whacked out and my arm felt as though it was going to drop off!! She then spent the rest of the morning sprawled in front of the stove and getting up for a drink, then wanting to go out for a wee!

More reading, sewing, chilling and being a good girl again today. I think it is the lack of proper physical things to do that tightens my spring. I will be so glad when I can go and run and jump and dance and sing again. 

Had calls from Kaybers and Felice and Mandy and Philip and Mum and Mr Carr. He was enquiring about my health [he said] and whether I’d be back next week. I assured him I would. I thought after that I’d better contact the uni, too. I got through to the faculty office and told them the situation. I have a doctor’s note to hand in when I get back; a form to fill in and a fitness to work interview! What the f*ck?! Apparently it is just procedure. Sounds like a load of bollocks to me.

In the afternoon as the sun came out, we went and sat in conservatory, which gets sun from about noon. It got really warm in there, which was a stark contrast to the weather outside!

By tea time the wind was getting silly. Laura reported branches down along the main road on her way home. 

Nothing big, but if it keeps this up….

We had the radio news on at 10 and heard about Nelson Mandela. Not exactly a shock but sad all the same. Laura said she bet he’d been dead for weeks and they’d pretended he was still OK. How cynical for someone so young?

I really do feel much better. I was trying to beat the illness and of course it beat me back instead. When I went with the flow, rather than raging against it, things seemed to right themselves naturally. That was what I had been told, of course, but I am such a stubborn baggage at times.

No work tonight for Laura so we had an early night. I may be on the road to recovery but I was still out like a light when I finally put my head to the pillow. 

A Phone Sex Voice and Getting Things into Perspective!

Friday November 29^th.

Another change of PJs during the night!

I still have voice like a phone sex lady [or what I imagine a phone sex lady would sound like]! LOL.

My nose still feels as though I have a tampon up each nostril.

Laura forced me to eat a bowl of soup last night and left two more for me to eat during today. There were threats of Big Trouble if I didn’t! Those are my Mum & Dad’s words coming back again ‘Big Trouble’. I never even found out what Little Trouble was like, never mind the Big variety.

This morning I had a visit from Muriel [no Ken], Julie [Andrew’s at Work], Steve and Ann, Sarah [from the pool], Simone [Russell’s out somewhere] but no Deirdre [she’s in Scotland at the moment]. That’s all the neighbours in my row popping in to check that I am alright. Jungle telegraph or what?

Unknown to each of them, I was asleep on the sofa pushing the zeds when they arrived. It was only Callie’s demented barking that woke me, and enabled me to pretend I was wide awake. Still, with each one I had a cuppa, which means my liquid intake is OK. We had a good gossip too. Claire didn’t say that Sarah joined the winning Scampi team in her phone message. They had a great night, made even more silly by them trying to remember the last time I had been ill. They remembered my ankle, but that hadn’t see me bed ridden. One of them said she thought the bugs would be too scared to come near me. [I found that a bit upsetting, TBH, and my eyes may have gone slightly watery. I don’t think Sarah spotted it.]

Simone spent her time telling me about how they had nearly divorced over redecorating their lounge! Which was quite hilarious, especially the bit when she described Russell stepping into the roller tray full of paint! He blamed her for putting it there but she was able to stand her ground and remind him he was the one who’d moved it! He is a bit of a pillock to be honest. Luckily his painted footprints were only on the plastic dust sheets.

Julie was all solicitous and worried about me. She has been the oldest friend of mine on the row, helping me out on the day I moved in and being pretty close ever since. She sees to Callie for me when I am at work. She has even been known to take her for a walk once in a while. [I think she was appalled by the kennel I made in the back of the shed in my garden –even though it has all mod cons! On winter days she has Callie round at her house only using the palace if she has to go out!]

Steve and Ann have invited me to bring Callie picking up with them when I am feeling better. That is great. I haven’t done any for a while and getting my face known locally may mean I get some valuable training in for Number One Gundog mine! Steve said to bring my gun in the car too, because sometimes one of the paying guns doesn’t turn up so they offer the peg to any of the pickers up who want it! This could mean a £2000 per day shoot for free! I am all for that. The biggest perk, apart from being paid [about £50 per day] and training your dog, is each picker up is given a brace of birds too.

Muriel arrived at the same as Mum so they sat and had a gossip about me for a while – I am afraid I dozed off again. When I re-joined the living they both turned on me and forced a bowl of Laura’s soup down my neck. {OK, not literally! LOL} It is pretty nice soup and I am obviously getting slightly better as I didn’t need to add loads of condiment to it in order to taste it. It was a chicken and noodle, Chinese style soup. That’s what’s in the second bowl too. Mum stayed until about 2 again and then left me dozing; using Y!A [I got to Level 7! Yaaay!]; and going to the loo to release the pressure on my bladder!

Callie didn’t bark when Laura came in and I woke up to being kissed. What a lovely way to wake up. I hoped my breath wasn’t stinky poo, but I have been having a go at it with the tooth brush after every attempt at eating more soup! I responded to her kisses in kind but when she slipped her hand inside my PJ jacket I just had to say that I didn’t think I was up to any hanky panky! Fondling my nipples didn’t begin to make me moist never mind creating the usual river that can flow down there.

I can’t believe that, can you? Turning down a bonk. I obviously aren’t all that better yet!

She was working at the restaurant again, so she left at just before 7 and got back at around 11.20. I was pushing the zeds again but I had done an absolute load on the tree of life embroidery. Almost four hours of uninterrupted sewing. Yes, I did nod off twice before but when I awoke I got up, let Callie out for an ablution and had a cuppa. I was only asleep for minutes each time. Honest.

St. Andrew’s Day! [Saturday November 30^th]

OMG, all those poor people on the Eve of St Andrew’s!

I feel bad here with my flu but imagine being in the Clutha last night! It is quite a popular bar, just a spit from the Clyde. It doesn’t bear thinking about. I was getting stressed over not being able to go and see the Arcadia Quartet tonight. Just shows how petty our worries can be. The startling thing is there are so many helicopters flying about these days it literally could happen anywhere at any time!

This morning I was 37.6 so I am on the right side of the fever. I still have a gravel voice and bunged up nose but now I don’t feel so hot and sweaty – Laura was spared changing my PJs with me in the night! I ate all of her soup yesterday and I admit I did feel a pang of hunger come on first thing. Sadly I couldn’t even manage to finish my bowl of cereal but Callie was happy!

Feli came to see me at about 10am. She had a bunch of flowers and a get well card. I gave her a hug and thanked her profusely to which she said, “Oh, they aren’t from me. Mandy gave them to me yesterday to pass on to you!” Is that the normal gesture from an undergraduate to her tutor? I am beginning to fret a little. Laura said if she’d had a tutor she felt a connection to, and that tutor was ill, she’d send flowers too. So that’s alright then.

I had tried to take Callie for a morning walk this morning [it was so nice and sunny] but I got as far as the first bench up the hill and was completely buggered. Loll took the pup on to the woods and I sat on the bench until they were out of sight, when I wobbled back home. I had to wait or Callie would have come hurtling back to me, if she’d seen me! She has done this before.  To take my mind off feeling like crap I made one of my 6 minute chocolate cakes. It is a microwave recipe and is simplicity itself to bake.

I was just washing up the mixer when Laura returned with a bedraggled puppy who launched herself at me and sent the mixer blades flying! She hasn’t done that for ages. [The jumping up, not sending the mixer blades flying.] I wonder if she can sense there’s something wrong with me. Maybe she can smell it. The BMJ had an article a couple of weeks ago about dogs being able to smell cancer! The mixer blades just clattered to the floor, which was bloody lucky as they are as sharp as a razor and would have done one of us serious damage if we’d been caught by them.

Loll was surprised that I had baked while she’d been out. I had even done a chocolate butter cream filling and topping for the cake. It was a few minutes after that when Feli arrived, so we had warm cake with our cuppa. I actually enjoyed it. OK, I only had a sliver really compared to the door wedge I would normally have had, but I actually enjoyed it. More progress.

Feli had an OMG moment when she saw how far I had got with the tree of life. It’s almost finished. Well, when you are at a loose end, why not continue with the work? She thinks it is stunning. I have made two mistakes in the stitching which drive me batty every time I look at it, but Feli doesn’t even know what I am talking about when I mention them. They are in such awkward places and, as I had done more work around them, they will be impossible to unpick. Laura, who has had them pointed out, says that you wouldn’t know if they weren’t pointed out and that putting deliberate mistakes in their work has been done by artists for centuries. I always smile when I get my own words echoed back at me!

Mum called while Feli was still here and they embarked on a long and very animated conversation in French. I hate it when she does that. [Mum that is. She does stuff that makes you feel not a part of what is going on.] She had some cake too. I asked Mum if she’d like my Arcadia ticket but she had to decline. She is on a date! OMG. She is seeing Tim Carr again. Oh No, Mum! Well, I guess she is old enough to do what she wants. Feli said she’d have it as she was not with a guy at the moment and an evening of “English Culture” would be a change. I told her she was a patronising cow. She told me I was just a cow!

That was settled though. Feli and Laura did go the concert and loved it. Laura said the Debussy was just as good as 360’s version and the rest was OK too. Praise indeed. I think that may have been the first Classical concert she has been to without Yours Truly. If you love someone set them free?

I stayed at home and finished the Tree of life completely. I also finished off the remains of the chocolate cake too. I must be getting better. Dad called from Cochem and said they were having a whale of a time and may be a day later coming back. How can he manage that with his lecture schedule? We had a minor contretemps earlier this week when he revealed they’d be leaving on Thursday. I thought he’d said the first weekend in December, which I thought meant next weekend, but he thinks that means this weekend as tomorrow is Dec 1^st! We agreed to differ on what “the first weekend” meant.

 I had a chat with Hilmar too. He sounded quite frail and I was surprised. Although Dad is 60 and Hilmar is easily 20 years older than that, so I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised at all, TBH. He told me he has put some Rulander in with my order because it is extra special this year. If he says that, it will be exceptional because he is not given to using superlatives at all. I promised to try and get down to see him and the family at Easter. He said that I MUST do. So I have been told. LOL.

Dad is still going to sleep over, but a night later than planned. I had warned him about the flu earlier on but he said he would buy a respirator for him and Louisa on the journey just to make sure they’ll be safe. He has to stop here so I can get my grubby little dipsomaniac mitts on my wine!

I wasn’t asleep when the Lollster returned from the concert, surprise surprise, and we even managed a shower together. I have missed washing Laura and her important little places. I actually felt aroused when doing so, and when she washed me I knew I wanted sex with her. I must be seriously getting better. Making love did prove more tiring than I thought it would be though! Ah well.

Sunny day December 1^st.

An absolutely glorious morning. I mean mind blowingly beautiful, and I was stuck here unable to go out in it. OK, I did attempt the first walk again with Callie. I sat on the bench but wasn’t anywhere as knackered as yesterday. Very slowly we made our way to Hill Top Woods. I had another couple of sits down on the way and had to suggest that we turn back rather than doing the complete circuit – that meant more steep walking from the woods before beginning the descent through Onesacre. I suppose technically the distance is roughly the same, it is just the degree of difficulty for a flu sufferer was proving a bit much. So much so when we got to the first bench I had to sit again and was spectacularly sick!

Laura was a bit panicked by it, but I actually felt a lot better after the chunder than before. She offered to take Callie home and fetch me in the car. I told her that was silly. I’d be OK after a few minutes sit. I was! We made our way home even slower than before and I felt really tired as I slumped onto the sofa. Loll stuck the thermometer in my gob and I was back up to 38.1! Oh shite.

The little betrayer phoned my Mum and I got an earful down the phone from her. The gist being I was an impatient idiot and I had to wait before trying to do stuff. I knew this. I didn’t need Mum in Assistant Head Teacher mode giving my ears aggro! I had to laugh at one point because she said, “…and stop doing that!”

“What?”

“Holding the phone away from your ear, pulling a face and mouthing ‘Blah Blah Blah’ to Laura!”

How did she know?

She has seen me do it of course. I should have guessed. She then wanted to speak to Loll.

I then was treated a one sided conversation similar to the one I wrote on here a few weeks ago; only this time I was on the receiving end. It is so annoying! I hadn’t realised just how much.

Laura’s half went like this:

Yes.

Yes.

I know.

Oh… I DO Know!

Yes.

What can you do?

No, not really.

Oh, OK. That’ll be lovely.

You sure?

OK.

About half an hour.

Bye.

She hung up. Then she said to me, “Right. Get your jacket and Uggs. We’re off to Helena’s for lunch!” She always calls Mum by her Christian name. “And no arguing. It means we don’t have to cook and your Mum can stand you in the naughty corner when we get there!”

I tried the “Who are you? And what have you done with Laura Thomas?” lines, but she came across and hugged me.

“You really scared me out on the lane. So I am doing what I think is best – for you; whether you like it or not. Now kiss me and let’s get going!”

If Laura’s words ‘Half an hour’ were an estimation of how long it would take us to get to Mum’s they were off by almost 30 minutes. It was so busy for a Sunday morning. I guess the really sunny weather had brought all the Sunday Drivers out! 

I was bloody gobsmacked, stunned, appalled, whatever you want to call it, to find Mr Carr there. [Call me Tim!] 

Oh no, Mum. You didn’t? 

I think she did. 

But he’s one of Dad’s oldest friends and my Boss! The former isn’t really important as they divorced ages ago, but he is still my boss. To be fair he knew all about why I’d been off and was quite pleasant and supportive sounding. It doesn’t make up for the fact he was bonking my Mum last night. I know it’s unreasonable and petty of me, but it is what I feel. Fortunately he wasn’t staying for lunch and zoomed off pretty smartly after we arrived.

I was relegated to the sofa and told to chill out and do nothing; everything would be taken care of. I find it so patronising and frustrating to be treated as though I am incapable just because I’m poorly. As if they’d read my thoughts after about half an hour [and two mugs of tea] Mum asked if I was up to baking one of my microwave chocolate cakes again, to have as dessert. I don’t know if she really needed one or it was occupational therapy or she was just being polite, but I was pleased to lend a hand.

The cake cooks in six minutes but it takes about twenty five minutes to prep and wash up afterwards. I have to admit I did feel a little wishy washy as I washed up the utensils etc in the second kitchen as the cake was cooking. Naturally I didn’t tell anyone.

Before we ate we skyped Susannah and Co. in Australia and I was treated to scorn and derision for being a wuss. It made a really welcome change. Jill repeated the line from the Scampis, about bugs being scared of me! I told her she was so unoriginal and anyway it was a newly mutated Vicki proof strain of flu. So watch out! They are all looking forward to Gramps and Louisa arriving! Uni goes down on about the 20^th and they are flying out the very next day [guess who is taking them to the airport?]. They are going to be there for almost all of January. I am so jealous.

I was pleased to see that Jill was still wearing her red, ‘Life Sucks’ button badge. This is a visual code we have, she has said when she no longer wears it, it’ll mean she and her BF have done “it”. I have tried to talk her into waiting, but that is very hypocritical of me really. I’d had sex by her age, so I guess I shouldn’t talk. [She doesn’t know that, of course.]

Peter has had the yacht’s keel all cleaned and de-barnacled, ready for Dad’s visit. I know going out sailing is one of the things he’s looking forward to. He used to do a lot of it when he was younger. He sold our Topaz for a one man racing yacht when I was 10 which was very disappointing. Phil and I could sneak off in the Topaz but the new yacht wasn’t designed for two.

After lunch I felt a lot better and asked Mum if she fancied going to have a look at the new market in town. That got slapped down immediately and I was told that I had set myself back when I last went out, going out to the town centre would be just as bad. That told me! Anyway it isn’t open on Sundays!

I attempted to broach the subject of Tim Carr but that was met with equal resistance as the market trip. I know it’s her business, but I would like to talk to her about it. It is making feel all confused. Laura and I left after an early tea and we drove back through town so we could see the new market even if it wasn’t open. It looks brilliant. A looks a bit like the Winter Gardens which is just up the hill a little. Mum was right though, I wouldn’t have been able to wander and shop, I had a bout of ‘wanness’ come over me as we drove home. I will have to get down and see it properly in daylight. [When I am fully recovered.]

I hit the sofa at home and was zed pushing before you knew it. Laura came and snuggled up alongside me. I put my head on her shoulder and she stroked my hair. She knows how much I love this. Especially when she puts her fingers into a comb shape, rubs them against my scalp and them pulls my hair through her fingers. Dad used to do this when I was little and it made me feel so safe and protected. The same effect Laura achieved tonight. I felt too knackered for a shower, so we ran a bath and sat together in shared water. I haven’t had a bath for as long as I can remember.

We swapped positions so we were in tandem with Laura behind, and me sat between her legs. She pulled me back so that my back was lying against her bosom and proceeded to gently kiss my neck. It was lovely.

My temperature as I got into bed was 37.4! Yaay.  

If only I didn’t still sound like Miss Phone Sex 2013 I would feel even better!