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It has been my birthday this week. I feel no older, except when I look in the mirror or remember just how long ago x or y happened. And I often miscalculate those dates! It’s age you know. It comes to me when I realise just how long I’ve known the people in my life.
FriendAbroad has just e-mailed me a daft message about how none of the wishes, angels or whatever she has received has worked, and please could we send chocolate, wine or air tickets instead. Over the years we have seen one another spasmodically. We were next door neighbours when we were 9, and wrote termly to one another at our respective girls’ boarding schools until we pitched up at the same sixth form. Our friendship flourished at school despite her being more confident and successful in our co-ed surroundings. She taught me to put on eye-make-up, shared novels and companionship, enthused about our sewing skills and laughed with me. When she needed somewhere to live in London she came and shared my one-bedroom flat. Later, when she moved to the USA to accompany her widowed father, I went to stay for a long summer earning my keep by helping her with the household chores. Later still we lived in one another’s pockets as she prepared for her wedding and I made her dress and my bridesmaid’s dress. I’m her eldest son’s godmother.
Husband-to-be and I visited her family in the Netherlands for a ball and she memorably sewed me back into my dress when the clearly too cheap zip split open! She was, of course, one of my bridesmaids.
Her life has changed direction several times since then, and we have both moved about rather a lot, never close enough for detailed contact, but we keep in touch, and we visit when possible. She usually drops in when she’s in the UK, and we exchange e-mails randomly. Our lives have been different, but the things we have in common remain key, and we never have difficulty in finding things to talk about when we get together.
With a friendship that has lasted so long, it is impossible to imagine FriendAbroad ceasing to be part of my life. I can’t see a reason why two little old ladies couldn’t still be exchanging views on the novels we’re reading, our sewing and our children. Not to mention the Husbands and (future I trust!) grandchildren. Aren’t I lucky.
(The cushions were Youngest's Christmas present.)
So they went back to school for all of two days and then they came back home again and stayed. Husband too. And it had some real positives: I have enjoyed their company, we have done a number of family things as though we were still on holiday, and I’ve had the heating on during the day (hang the oil, we’ve already paid for it, ditto the logs, but how long will they last?). On the downside I have had no time to myself, could not get access to play on the computer without someone looking over my shoulder to see what I was up to, and have been expected to provide actual meals at lunchtime! The GCSE mocks didn’t get taken and will have to be rescheduled, and we paid for 3 ballet lessons that weren’t running.
There was much talk about how it had been worse or not in the past.
In 1991 when I was a working woman I got stuck in Scotland after a Friday visit to our factory. I was turned away from the airport with a toothbrush and a hotel room. Still no go to East Midlands on Saturday morning, but they’d take me to London instead. Met up with Husband-to-be who lived and worked there. The snow had resulted in some spare tickets to Cats, and I bought an unlikely outfit in Next: green jeans, orange baseball boots and a matching sweatshirt – I only had my suit. (History doesn’t record the purchase of underwear, but I think we’ll take it as read.)
At boarding school in 1969 a heavy fall of snow meant the day girls had to stay overnight and they slept head to toe with their friends. The next morning we were escorted to school by Matron so we wouldn’t have any problems. As she, a distinctly plump lady, herded us along the path in crocodile file she went wide and up to her neck in a drift. We loved it!
I for one can only claim inconvenience and nothing more. But I'm very glad to be alone again today, even without the heating.
A Happy New Year to one and all, but especially to my very own (and only) Follower! In her honour I have added a Followers' gadget to my Blog and I await the flood with interest, but little expectation. I'm not sure I understand the advantages of joining; I've been content to put people's addresses down the side of my page as destinations I enjoy visiting regularly and haven't felt it necessary to 'Follow'. Perhaps someone will explain?
The Christmas holiday has flown by and the girls have gone back to school. Since the in-laws mass visit we have had a hugely enjoyable New Year's Eve dinner party (Black Tie and party frocks and enormous quantities of champagne and posh food - guests didn't get up from the table 'til gone 2 in the morning so I guess they had fun too); a brief visit from Northern Friend en route home from her holidays; a visit to London to stay with my parents which included a trip to Tate Britain (Youngest and Husband looked at the Turner Prize contenders for £8 each whilst Eldest and I did the rest of the gallery for free. We didn't think we would get value for money being inclined to dismiss large tracts of art as ‘rubbish’); a welcome Italian meal out and An Inspector Calls (very dramatic and interestingly staged so we could all help make notes for GCSE drama) and a visit from my eldest brother and his family for lunch.
We’re now back in the frozen west in our term time routine. Ballet has begun again. My taxi service just needs to defrost my unused car ready for tonight – perhaps we will be snowed off? I don’t know who wished for a white Christmas, but I’ve had enough now!
(The fox is a regular in my parents back garden.)
It’s all over for another year!
The midnight was something we hadn’t done in years so was a bit of a treat in terms of a lie in on Christmas morning. Father Christmas had visited and we took it in turns to draw items from our stockings until we’d all run out. Very satisfying! Drinks with the neighbours were bubbly. Lunch went well despite the slightly fraught cook, and I managed to get the pudding properly alight for the first time ever (it needs much more alcohol than I thought necessary). The cracker jokes were even more dreadful than usual. We managed a few pressies before the Queen, and the rest with The Incredibles. We only drank tea, and couldn’t manage more than a few nibbles for supper.
Parents went home on the 27th saying they’d enjoyed themselves, and the in-laws started arriving. Another family tradition: 5 siblings with their 5 spouses and 2 children each, plus the patriarch and his wife. A healthy 22 to feed! A planned leftover turkey was turned into a Thai- and an Indian-style salad with various side dishes including the required vegetarian pastry for the veggie family. The dodgy Pavlova disappeared, as did half the brownies, but the mincemeat tart is loitering in the fridge. Tea was enjoyed by 16 of us after the others had departed. I later discovered that the youngest visitor (amongst those who missed tea) had managed to eat yet another cake under the table apparently noticed only by Eldest. Too much of her mother has clearly rubbed off as she remarked that his behaviour had been matched only by his parents’ inability to provide any form of discipline! He ate nothing but cake on the previous evening when 3 families sat down to bangers/cheese and baked potatoes with baked beans followed by fruit and had left the table before gingerbread muffins were produced. He came back for two. Eldest wondered why anyone would eat anything but cake if they were allowed to eat it without eating any of the other offerings. At least we were prepared for the non-partaking of the first course, followed by two puddings. Eldest didn’t mention the under the table incident until she caught me muttering about people who dropped cake papers on my cream carpet.
But we’re all done. It won’t be our turn to host for three years (don’t ask, I can’t do the maths either).
Now we look forward to dinner this evening, a different sort of entertaining. Happy New Year!
(The photo is of Eldests gift from her knitting grandmother.)
The birthday is behind us, and all but two of the people we were expecting turned up at the leisure centre. I failed completely and made my Youngest cry by providing the wrong cake, (a difference of opinion about what a lemon drizzle cake is – apparently I said that was what you called Delia's lemon curd cake…). However no one else noticed it was incorrect, and everyone seemed to enjoy themselves. They were so worn out by the hour playing on the inflatable assault course in the pool that they were extremely well behaved over the birthday tea. They ate all the cake and almost everything else. We were all cleared away and home in time for the Latin dances in the Strictly final. Result!
We sang carols in church yesterday evening and it snowed over night so we're ready to be Christmasy. Cards are now all written so just need delivering. We’ve agreed the decorations can go up today so now we just need to agree who is going to do what. It was much simpler when it was assumed I would do it, now everyone wants a turn. I wonder if I can trust the girls to be kind to one another as they decorate the tree while I hide in the kitchen with the as yet unfinished Christmas cake?
Merry Christmas!
I had an interesting conversation with my girls after my last post re perfect Christmases. Apparently I was nearly right about the need for pizza, chocolate and a few presents, but you also need some decorations. However none of this matters if we could have the heating on all day, as being cosy would make all the difference! I have warned Husband in advance of this requirement, having the heating on all day is something I only dream of: Husband is a firm believer in putting on another jumper. But this year I have hopes!
The lists remain long:
25 more cards
Birthday cake for Youngest
Soup for visiting vegetarians’ lunch on Saturday
Party tea for Saturday evening at swimming pool party including (another) cake for an unknown quantity of (pre)teens.*
Only after the ongoing celebrations can I think about decorations, cake icing, present wrapping…
*In fact the list of unknowns is great: school friends at secondary school are unknown, there parents more so. I have no means of contact except through the birthday girl, and no way of knowing whether the invitations were ever shown to a parent. From “They're all coming” to “No one’s coming” in a couple of weeks. No doubt somewhere between lies the number of girls attending. It is impossible to protect children from learning that giving a party is almost never stress free!
It’s that time of year when no matter how many things you get done there are always more things you could have done that you fear might be the difference between the Perfect Christmas and the OK variety. Why do we do it to ourselves? The family would no doubt be happier if their mother was less stressy; and, so long as there’s pizza and chocolate and presents, don’t much care what else is achieved.
I am in the throws of making the Christmas cards and have even written a few. (But I haven't cleaned the windows so there are shadows on my photo, in case you wondered.) Most presents are bought and some must be wrapped this weekend so they can be taken away by visitors attending Youngest’s birthday lunch on Sunday. This meal is the next on my list of to do’s and is slightly complicated by the wish to be gluten and dairy free for Great Friend to feel included. It’s not difficult, it just means I must think a bit harder about what to make or what not to add – Pavlova for instance can be produced in component parts so that only those who like cream need have some, and it’s one of Youngest’s favourite puddings… and it will use some of the excess of raspberries I have in the freezer courtesy of the allotment. (I had a plan to fill the freezer with meals for the holidays as instructed by all the magazines at this time of year, but had no room in it to do so even if I’d managed to be that organised!)
Less fuss, less stress should be my motto if I was even slightly sensible, instead I shall no doubt continue to rush about trying to get everything done. Better go and make another list.
