family

Happy New Year! (Survived 2017 okay?)

Posted by

0


Well, I did it, I made it to the end of the year. Christmas was lovely, but busy, then straight into visiting family, family parties, and preparing for New Year Eve’s party. I can now collapse in a heap somewhere.

The family parties especially are good to survive. They are fun, but somewhat different to the parties we had when I was little. In those days, we all went to my granny’s house, where she had a huge room that stretched across the shop below, and we played games. The games were things like musical statues, and postman’s knock – where no one ever wanted to have to kiss Uncle George because he didn’t have many teeth. He’s dead now. Today, it would probably be classed as child abuse.

These days, I go to my in-laws houses for family games. These range from the impossible (Eg, trying to match words my mother might think of – I opted out this year and let my brother partner her) to the not so impossible (trying to stay awake during ‘Mafia’). My father-in-law brought a game this year: we had to order a list of animals according to the neurones found in their cerebral cortex. Which is a test for intelligence (the number of neurones, not the game. Though actually, now I come to think of it…) Like I said, I survived, and it was fun.

Then we began to prepare for our own party. The low point every year is lunch time on the day of the party, when the family wants food, but I am trying to clear up the kitchen and I don’t want to start cooking. Then there are always left-overs, which do not fit into the fridge, but I don’t like to waste them. Actually, the fridge is a major tension point, as I try to coat strawberries in chocolate and prepare vegetables for dips, and there is nowhere, absolutely nowhere, to put them. Why does no one ever eat the last piece of quiche/pudding/pie? And I can’t even put them in plastic bags anymore because Son who works for a conservation charity tells me it’s unethical. The dog walks around shedding hairs on my freshly vacuumed floors, and someone used the last bit of loo roll and flung the cardboard bit on the floor.

The party this year had an “Around the World’ theme. I went to church Sunday morning, mainly to avoid the annual tense discussion, when I try to keep my house undisturbed and Husband is in major ‘change everything for a party’ mode. I returned to a lot of flags, and tried to avoid going into rooms where I knew my furniture would be moved around.

Son 1 asked what he could wear, as he planned to come as ‘the international space station’. (If you have a young child who tends to announce on the way to school that today is Book Day, and everyone is dressing up, and if your friends tell you, “Don’t worry, they grow out of that,” – Don’t believe them. They don’t.)

By the time guests arrived, all was lovely, and I had a marvellous time.

Anyhow, I hope you too made it to this side of the new year. Have a rest now as you slip back into the easy routine of work and weekends. Have a great week.

Take care,
Love, Anne x

 

Thank you for reading.

Why not start the new year by signing up to follow my blog?

I usually write a post every week.

anneethompson.com

*********

How was your Christmas?

Posted by

1


Hello, and how was your Christmas? Or, more to the point, how are you? Full of food and love and happy thoughts I hope.

I find the work for Christmas begins several days before, when I start making lists. Then I have to rewrite the lists, because I’ve lost the originals. This year I decided to also make a time-plan, like we used to make in Domestic Science lessons at school: 11:40 boil potatoes and parsnips, 11:55 potatoes into oven, 12:00 parsnips into oven…you get the idea. I hoped it might solve the “finding the chestnuts for the sprouts in the fridge, when I put the remains of the turkey in there” problem, which tends to happen every year. It didn’t work of course, but at least I had evidence that I had tried.

Another pre-Christmas job is laundry – washing everything that’s in the dirty washing basket. This was partly because I didn’t want to have to do washing during the Christmas period, and partly because I knew Son 2 would arrive with a suitcase of dirty washing, and I prefer not to have to queue for the washing machine. Husband then made helpful comments about, “Gosh, we must’ve been burgled, and they stole all that stuff you’ve been storing in the washing basket for months.” But I ignored him.

Actually, understanding Husband is sometimes difficult. He often embarks on a major DIY project just as my workload feels over-whelming. Like the year he decided it would be helpful to re-floor the kitchen on Christmas Eve. Yep, Christmas Eve. This year he mended the extractor fan in the bathroom. At least, that’s what he told me he was doing, it looked awfully like he was playing Candy-Crush whilst sitting on the sofa, but who am I to know?

To be fair, Husband mainly helps to stop me spiralling into despair. When I woke him at 3:30am on the morning of the 23rd, to tell him in panic I was completely out of control, the time had slipped away from me and it was already Christmas and I wasn’t ready, and I still haven’t managed to proofread Clara, he was very calm. He just sort of absorbs all my worries and tells me it will be fine. Which it was. Perhaps that’s why I married him.

There were a few low points. I had decided this year to avoid the ‘pull the crackers and then leave all the stuff on the table’ activity which happens every year. I decided to buy those make your own crackers and buy a gift people would actually want, which in my family is alcohol. The trouble was, the crackers did not arrive in pieces, as I had expected, they were already formed but with one end open. So inserting miniature bottles of drink was a struggle, and adding the hat and joke was impossible. I basically had to screw them up and stuff them inside. Which did, I admit, look less than professional when they were opened, but everyone merrily wore scrumpled hats. I guess the alcohol helped.

Another unexpected moment was when the food order arrived on 23rd. Who knew you could buy such tiny packets of stuffing?

The absolute low point however, was our family trip to the cinema to see Pitch Perfect 3. Husband’s choice. I knew it would be bad, but I hadn’t realised quite how bad. Words cannot adequately express my feelings towards such drivel. But everything else about our Christmas was brilliant. Next is New Year’s Eve party – not so much potential for disaster there. Is there?

Take care,

Love, Anne x

xxx
anneethompson.com

 

******************************************************

 

Christmas Meal with the Family

Posted by

0


For the last few years, we’ve tried to go up to London, to see the Christmas lights and have dinner together. Not anywhere particularly posh, but just to be together, somewhere different, where I don’t have to do the cooking. Last weekend was the 2017 family meal.

I wasn’t sure if we’d manage it this year, as only Husband and I were at home, and everyone else would be travelling from different parts of the country, but they all seemed willing, so I booked a table and hoped it wouldn’t snow. It didn’t, but it did rain, which made the event damper than planned, but it was still nice to see everyone.

We arranged to meet at 5:30pm at The National Gallery. I chose this time because it was an hour before our restaurant reservation, and my family, whilst wonderful, are somewhat unpredictable when it comes to times and trains and going in the right direction. Well, actually, it would be more accurate to say they are very predictable, and I knew it would be best if we met ahead of time. As I guessed, one child arrived on time, with partner, in arranged place. One child texted to say they were at a station in Hertfordshire, the other was silent, so we assumed they might be on a train to Edinburgh. Nothing unexpected there.

To be fair, we were all together, in the restaurant, at the correct time. We had a lovely time together, lots of good conversation and teasing and general family bonding stuff which goes to make up the best memories. We then wandered around Covent Garden, and through Leicester Square Christmas Market. They did have security on the gate, checking bags, and one person had with him several large bags, hauled down from uni; but when he mentioned they were full of dirty washing, the security were surprisingly unkeen to search them.

We then had a quick look at China Town, before deciding the weather was too awful, so went and camped in the bar of the Curzon Theatre for more chat and cups of hot chocolate.

My family does best when it’s contained in a restaurant or bar, as wandering around places never works. This might be due to the general unsuitedness of Husband and I, who are both bossy leader types that dislike following others. (A matchmaking site would never have put us together, even though we do actually have lots of fun together. Sometimes I think God just wanted to spare two other weaker people, who would have been squashed by our dominant personalities!) The problem is, our children are also not, in any respect, ‘followers’. So when the family tries to walk anywhere, we have many different opinions about where to go and the best route, which means everyone tends to disperse in different directions.

As you can imagine, raising strong personalities was fun, but challenging. Whenever I took them out, I would have back-up plans, just in case. Such as, “If you get on a train before me and the doors shut before I’m on it, get off at the very next station and wait for me.” Or, “If you realise you have lost me, just stand still and shout; and only ask for help from a woman with children.” (I figured that a woman who had children of her own would realise how awful they generally are, and would never want to steal someone else’s!) However, one son informed me that these strategies no longer work, and now he’s a  very tall man, if he approached a woman with children and told her he was lost, she would probably have him arrested.

It was a lovely evening, and stress free, which such evenings have not always been. I remember the year when there had to be a line drawn across the table, so one son’s feet did not extend into my daughter’s foot-territory. And the year when one teenager arrived in the car ready to drive to the station moments before our train was due, wearing a shirt and jeans. Just a shirt – no jumper, no coat. And it was snowing. But apparently teenaged boys do not feel the cold or ever get ill, so it would have been unreasonable of me to comment.

But not this year. This year, they all arrived, from their various places of residence, and we ate dinner together and chatted. A special time. So, if your children are younger, and perhaps not always easy, hold that image in mind. In time, they will be the people who you most want to be with. They will be the provider of your most special memories, the accompaniment to precious moments, and the people who lighten your heart. If they manage to arrive in the right city on time….

xxx

Thank you for reading.

If you enjoyed this, why not sign up to follow my blog?
anneethompson.com

 

******************************************

How to NOT do Christmas

Posted by

0


(Reposted because it’s that time of year again.)

How to NOT do Christmas

IMG_3810

by Anne E Thompson

Okay, so it’s that time of year again, when I look around and everyone seems terribly competent, with beautiful houses and cards sent on time. Or are you, like me, still struggling to clear up stray socks and find the floor under dog hairs? Here are some helpful hints for those of you who need to decorate the house, send cards to the correct people, produce a mound of wrapped gifts and cook that all important dinner; whilst also keeping the house clean, the animals alive, and do all the other jobs which fill your life and don’t disappear at Christmas. Hope it’s helpful.

The Tree

Everyone loves a Christmas tree. Here are some things to beware of:
If you take a man with you to buy a real tree, he will lose all sense of proportion. This is true. Crude jokes aside, it seems to be some strange male trait that they always want to buy a tree that is much too big for the space in your home. They always forget the bucket and top decoration adds extra height. And they always forget that you might want to live in the room where they plan to put it – and if it’s too wide everyone will have to scrabble through the branches to communicate. So my advice: do not involve a male of any age in choosing the tree.

You cannot however, avoid them being present for the annual family discussion on where the tree should go. Now, we have lived in our present house for many years and every Christmas we discuss (heatedly) where the tree should be placed. Every year it always goes in exactly the same place.

If you buy a tree in late December, your family will constantly tell you everyone else has theirs already. If you buy a tree in early December, it will probably be bald by New Year.

If you decide to ‘plant’ your tree in soil, over time, as it is watered, the soil becomes unstable and the tree will gradually fall over. If you follow the shop’s instructions and “treat your tree like the living plant that it is” and stand it in water, then after a while, the warmth of your house will have turned the water stagnant and everyone will be asking you what the funny smell is. If, on realising this, you then add a drop of bleach to the water, the tree first gets very pale looking and then dies very quickly. A dead tree will droop and all the ornaments slide off the branches. Your lounge also smells like a public lavatory.

If you ever want a tasteful tree, you must NEVER allow the children to put on their home made ornaments. Every year I produce those faded photos in plastic frames, the robin that sheds paint. I even have the clay angels that my sister made one year, which look like they slept in a puddle after an especially hard night out. It is true, they bring back lots of special memories, but I can now never not put them on the tree, so my tree, whilst full of precious memories, is also incredibly tacky.

If you do not water your tree, do NOT leave the lights on it and go out for the evening or it might burn down your house. (This did not happen to us, but it did happen to a neighbour in the US. A dried pine is incredibly flammable.)

If you have an artificial tree, you can spend hours sorting out branches and colour codes. My advice is: tell someone else that they are in charge of putting up the tree because it is too hard for you (this works well if you have males in the family, who will actually believe that you are incapable of matching colours.) They will also be keen to supervise the taking down of the tree because they will know how impossible it is to put up if not stored carefully.

Decorations

Do NOT believe that everyone who helps decorate the house will also help tidy up after Christmas. Every year I say, “Only put out the ornaments that you will put away afterwards”. I may as well not bother. I know this is true because one year I was ill, and we had a Nativity scene on one window sill all year. I find family members are very keen to decorate all sorts of random places, and not at all keen to tidy them afterwards.

Gifts

IMG_3802

Do NOT buy gifts too early and if you do, do not forget where you have hidden them. It is annoying to find winter nightclothes for your daughter in June.

If posting gifts, do not forget to name each gift so the recipient knows who they are for (you would be surprised at what has happened in our family).

Do NOT assume you will know when your child stops believing in Father Christmas (sorry if this is a spoiler). When I asked one of my sons on his eighteenth birthday (okay, so he wasn’t quite that old) if he really still believed in Santa, he informed me that he had not believed for years but hadn’t liked to disappoint me by letting me know. This was a huge relief for the whole family, as we could now stop worrying he was completely thick, and it also meant that I could give the children their ‘stocking gifts’ the evening before Christmas. Which meant that we all slept much better Christmas Eve.

Do NOT forget to check that either your husband has bought his mother a gift, or you have bought one for her yourself. Really, I cannot stress enough how important this one is……

Food

Unless you are a very organised person, do NOT buy a large frozen turkey. They take days to defrost – and where will you put it during that time? If you leave it in the utility room, the cat eats it. If you put it in the garage, the mice eat it. If you leave it in the oven to defrost, you are sure to forget and turn on the oven to preheat – melting plastic over poultry is not a good smell, trust me. If you place it in a bucket of brine, as was suggested one year, what are you going to do with the salmonella-infected brine afterwards, and how will you stop the dog licking it? If you put it in the fridge, you cannot fit in any of the shelves, let alone other food. Trust me, big frozen turkeys are a bad idea.

Do NOT forget that supermarkets are open other than on the bank holidays. I always do this; I try to buy enough food for the whole holiday period, which is a military operation in an over flowing supermarket, with insufficient parking, and queues the length of the Nile . Then, soon after boxing day we always run out of something essential, like milk, and I go to a beautifully empty supermarket (which is now selling all the food that is decomposing in my fridge for half the price.) Being overly prepared is always a mistake I feel. Just buy enough for the Christmas Day dinner.

If, like me, you have a problem with chocolates, when you buy the family tub of chocolates, do NOT forget to also buy tape. Then, if by mistake you open them and eat lots before Christmas, you can buy a replacement, add the ones you don’t much like and reseal the tub. Your family will never know. Honestly, every year my husband tells me that there are a surprisingly large number of green triangles in our chocolate tin.

Important Things

Do NOT forget to go to a carol service. Actually, I do not especially like carols, unless they are sung by a choir. They are mostly really really long. A lot of them also have things in them that are very European and nothing to do with the actual account in the Bible. But I do like carol services, full of excited children, and people in thick coats that they don’t have anywhere to hang. One year at our church we even managed to set someone on fire. (It was an accident, I should add. She leant against a candle and she wasn’t at all hurt, just ruined her coat. The following year as a safety precaution the candles were suspended above us. Unfortunately, they weren’t the non drip variety and we all made polite conversation afterwards with white wax in our hair.)

Do Not forget to build some family traditions of your own. On Christmas Eve, if my children are in the house, awake before noon and sober (I assume nothing these days) then they still like to help prepare the vegetables. We all sit round, peeling sprouts and remembering how we did it every year while watching ‘The Lost Toys,’ and the year that the youngest removed every leaf from his sprout and then declared, “Mine’s empty!”

Most importantly, do NOT forget what is important. Christmas is not about family or tradition or nice food. Actually, it’s about a God who thought you were special enough that he came to this dirty smelly earth as a baby. Even if you don’t believe in him, he believes in you. And he cared enough to come, so that you have a chance to change your mind if you want to. So spend a little time trying to remember what it’s all about. Look in Luke’s bit of the Bible, and read the account of what actually happened – no donkeys, no inn keepers with tea-towels on their heads, no fairies or snow. Just a simple story of something special.

xxxxxx

Thank you for reading.

IMG_3787

xxxxxxxx

If you enjoyed this, you might enjoy Hidden Faces by Anne E Thompson, an easy-read, feel-good novel, set in an English infant school. Why not buy a copy today and read something to make you smile?

(Also an ideal Christmas gift for your mother, sister, aunt, or anyone who has ever worked in a school.)

hidden-faces-final-cover-6-july-2016

xxxxxxxx

Marathons and Kites

Posted by

0


Let me tell you about last Sunday. We had to take Son 2 back to uni, ready to start his Masters course, so there had been some discussion as to when that would be. I was keen to go on Saturday, because I don’t like missing church on Sundays and we seem to have missed a lot lately. Son and Husband were keen to go on Sunday. We went on Sunday.

However, they did compromise, and tell me they were willing to leave early in the morning, early enough for me to attend a church in Nottingham. Which was kind of them, as it meant we all had to get up ready to leave for 7am. We looked online for the postcode of Cornerstone Church in Nottingham, as it’s near to where Son lives, and we know a few people who’ve been there who are relatively normal, so we figured it would be a good one for me to attend. Their website claimed they are an ‘inclusive’ church – not quite sure what that means, but thought I’d find out.

7am arrived, off we set. Traffic on the motorways was good, and we looked as if we’d make it on time. Until we reached Nottingham. Then we ran into traffic, and I began to watch the time ticking past. You know that feeling, when the clock keeps moving, and you realise you’re going to not be early, then you’re going to be late, but still okay to arrive late. Then you start to decide just how late you can be before actually it’s a bit rude to disturb the service. I am used to churches – I have been around them my whole life, so I didn’t mind arriving late and asking to use the loo before going in whilst being assessed by strangers interested to know who I was and why I was there. But there is a limit. Eventually, I began to realise I wasn’t going to make it. Shame.

The problem, which perhaps Son could’ve known about beforehand (not saying anything, but…) was that Sunday was the day of the Nottingham Marathon. Son’s house, and the church, seem to be situated on a small island surrounded by roads that the marathon runs around. We tried several different routes, but it was pretty impossible to reach our destination by car (and I was too late to walk). So we abandoned the car and walked to the Beefeater for an early lunch.

As we walked, we passed lots of runners. I always find the marathon, any marathon, very moving. All those people giving time and effort for something so positive is wonderful, I think. There are the runners, raising money for charity after months of training, and their supporters, giving up a morning to cheer them on. It’s all excellent – if somewhat inconvenient for people wanting to drive on the roads. We even saw a man running whilst pushing another man in a wheelchair – that really made me blink back the tears!

I do wonder, though, who planned the date. I feel next year it would be good if they discussed dates with Nottingham University, and perhaps either the marathon, or the beginning of Fresher’s week could be on a different day. Just saying.

We had a nice lunch though. I like Beefeaters, and in the North, everyone is friendly, so you always get good service. The one in Nottingham is near a sort of marina. Only sort of, as most of the boats are on a car park, and the water is beyond sight. They do call it Beefeater Boathouse though.

Boats always remind me of my dad, because he owned a boat. His brother, Uncle John, used to live near a river, and if he saw a capsized boat, he’d buy it and then mend it. Dad bought one from him, and spent all his free time making it nice. I believe the lovely wooden cabinets in the galley were once church pews (perk of the job when you’re the minister perhaps).

My dad was good at making things, though they did tend to be big. And sometimes not pretty. We still have the solid wooden train station for the Playmobile trainset, which is way too big to fit into any cupboard. And we all remember his kites. I remember a holiday, in Cromer, when Mum and Dad had taken the children to fly kites, and me and my sister were sitting in Granny’s caravan. My sister looked out of the window, looking for Dad’s kite.

“I don’t think I can see their kite,” she said, “what does it look like? Oh wait. Oh no. Oh dear, I think I can….”

There were lots of kites flying in the field next to the caravan, and there, twice as high as all the others, was a big black bin bag kite. It was huge, and ugly, but it flew really well. I miss my dad.

Anyway, hope you have a good week and manage to get to where you want to go.

Take care,
Love, Anne x

 

Thank you for reading. You can follow my blog at anneethompson.com

Austria – Family Holiday Diary

Posted by

1


Day One : Munich to Austria

Car arrived 5am. Everyone ready -unexpected -maybe some of them didn’t sleep. Flew Heathrow to Munich, all went smoothly, and everyone managed the automatic barriers. Eventually.

Collected minivan, and drove Munich to Salzburg. J made redundant from map reading due to rather efficient satnav.

Arrived at Sheraton at Fuschlsee, a lake near Salzburg. Staff at reception predominantly female, wearing national dress, which does make them very buxom. Impossible to avoid mainly noticing bosoms. H told M not to wear his glasses while we’re here.

Dinner in expensive hotel restaurant. Lots of antlers on walls, candles, flowers. Nice meal, but tired (me, not meal.)

  Everywhere here is SO pretty.

Day Two : Hallstatt

Nice breakfast, though I had problems with coffee machine and covered surrounding area with milky froth -rescued by very nice waiter who collected me a mug of coffee.

Drove to Hallstatt. Traffic terrible and nowhere to park, so we abandoned Husband and car, and walked into town. It was full of Chinese people, really full. Coach loads of them. All the signs were written in German and Mandarin, so clearly a regular occurrence. Also full of extremely expensive souvenir shops. Followed signs with a skull on them up a mountain (J in flip-flops, but still faster than people in hiking gear). Signs took us to a cemetery.

Found Husband and ate lovely homemade pizza for lunch. Read guidebook to try and find out significance of skulls and cemetery. Read that apparently, cemetery is very small – due to being half way up a mountain, so when it was full, someone had the good idea that they could dig up the old corpses and replace them with the new ones. Honestly, this was the solution they decided on! Did anyone object? Was there a committee involved? Anyway, this is what they did. While the bodies were waiting to be buried, they decomposed, and the bones were bleached by the sun. The skulls were separated from the other bones, and they are displayed in a side chapel. We HAD to go back and look. There they were, bones stacked neatly, skulls decorated with the name and patterns. Brilliant!

The rest of Hallstatt is also interesting. Lots of cute cottages clinging to the mountainside. Too many tourists and over-priced shops, but well worth a visit.

 

Walked around a mountain lake, Vorderer-Gosausee. So beautiful. Lake, trees, glacier, mountains.

Dinner in Fuschl. Parked in large town car park, returned after dark, and didn’t know how to pay. Husband set off in the dark to investigate, we sat in car, then decided to send S (largest male) to protect him. S detoured via barrier and tried to lift it manually. Worried he might break it, Husband would return with paid ticket but we’d still be trapped due to broken barriers. R worried there might be zombies (so glad she’s 25 and works in a bank – easy to forget that sometimes). D returned, barrier worked, all good.

Arrived safely back at hotel, despite best efforts of suicidal deer on dark road. Nice day. Tomorrow we plan to visit Salzburg (which is very exciting, as it’s where they filmed The Sound of Music – because it’s where the real family actually lived.)

Thank you for reading.

Why not sign up to follow my blog? Tomorrow I’ll tell you what we saw in Salzburg.

anneethompson.com

xxx

If you like to laugh, why not read Invisible Jane by Anne E Thompson?
A love story with funny bits!

Available from an Amazon near you…..

Packing

Posted by

1


  Today will be stressful – packing for the family holiday. If you’re a mother, you will know what I mean. If you’re male (not being sexist or anything), read on…

There is oceans of washing to do. It seems a bad idea to leave dirty clothes to fester in the laundry basket, plus there is all the bedding. I don’t like the idea of returning after two weeks away to sheets that have been slept/sweated/dribbled in for a week and then locked into a room to ferment. Obviously I cannot wash it all the day we leave, but it feels better if it’s washed the day before – so just one night of body fluids sweated into them.

Then there is the animal stuff. Dog and grumpy-cat taken to kennels, their bedding and towels left here. I can leave them – and be welcomed home by the thick odour a la dog, or I can wash them before I go. Thank goodness for washing machines and please can mine not break today. Of course, not everyone has this problem. I have known people (not female) who quite cheerfully shove dirty clothes into a bag before a holiday; and then return with the same bag of dirty clothes at the end. I am not entirely sure if they were worn, or washed, in between, because I didn’t like to ask.

If you enjoyed this, you will love my new book: The Sarcastic Mother’s Holiday Diary.
I have always written a diary on holiday, so last Christmas, I decided to find all my old diaries and blogs, and make a book for my children. However, several other people also asked for a copy, so I have written a public version – it’s available on Amazon and has been described as “The Durrells meet Bill Bryson”!

Why not buy a copy today? I think it will make you laugh.

The US link is here:

https://www.amazon.com/Sarcastic-Mothers-Holiday-Diary-ebook/dp/B07N95281F/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1549015525&sr=8-1&keywords=the+sarcastic+mothers+holiday+diary

The India link is here:

https://www.amazon.in/Sarcastic-Mothers-Holiday-Diary-ebook/dp/B07N95281F/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1549015429&sr=8-1&keywords=the+sarcastic+mothers+holiday+diary

The UK link is here:

https://www.amazon.co.uk/Sarcastic-Mothers-Holiday-Diary-ebook/dp/B07N95281F/ref=sr_1_2?ie=UTF8&qid=1549014970&sr=8-2&keywords=the+sarcastic+mothers+holiday+diary

 

 

An Empty Week

Posted by

1


If you follow my blog, you may have received this early (an unedited version!). Many apologies. I forgot to ‘schedule’ it, (due to a phone call at the wrong time, so I forgot what I was doing.) It zoomed off, and although I deleted it immediately, it was too late. Sorry – I am so not an IT person…..

Hello, how was your week?
I was not at all sure there would be a blog this week. I have been busy, rewriting my finished books so I can publish them as Amazon books, and there hasn’t been much time for anything else. I have posted a blog every Monday for about three years, but this week, I didn’t know what to write. Usually, I have a few stored up, that I can post if the week has either been hectic or empty, but I’ve used them all. Some weeks I have too much to write, especially if I’m travelling. Most weeks I do, or see, or hear, something that sparks an avalanche of words. I then spend a few days reading and changing what I’ve written (and if I’m worried, I let someone in the family read it first) ready to post on Monday. Occasionally the family tell me to delete what I’ve written, but usually I’m okay.

But this week, I mainly sat at my desk and proofread old manuscripts. This wasn’t easy, as we are having the house re-roofed. Roofers are very noisy (impossible to use a nail gun quietly I guess). I also tend to forget they’re coming – so do things like leave open my bathroom window, and then when they cut tiles above it, all the debris falls into my bathroom. There are also way too many cars around my house, it reminds me of that television series Butterflies whenever I want to go out.  The new roof is looking great. But I will not be sorry when it’s finished.

The only other news this week is Son2 invited some uni friends to visit. They were men – which is always very strange for a mother. When you have sons, you are aware that they have grown taller than you and have deep voices and smell strange, but really, you still see the three year old. When they bring home school friends, they are again quite big, but usually you have watched them grow up (especially if, like me, you taught lots of them when they were 13) so you still see the child inside. But meeting friends from uni was different. They were men. At least, they were on the outside. Probably they still laughed at, and worried about, the same things they did when they were 13.

We did have a slight problem with the catering arrangements. I asked Son2 if they were allergic/couldn’t eat anything. He told me that one of them was possibly Muslim and couldn’t eat meat one day a week. (Actually, he initially told me they were gluten free vegans – but that was just to scare me). But he couldn’t quite remember. I asked if it was all meat, or just pork. He said he thought it was just pork, and the friend might be Jewish. I decided to make a nice beef casserole, but at the last minute, decided to check. The ‘possibly Muslim’ friend was actually Hindu, so does not eat beef. So glad, as I used to teach Religious Studies, that my son is so well informed about these things. Other than the near embarrassment over meat, it was a very nice visit, and fun to meet some new people.

I also have a new phone. I have not yet bonded with it. Today, Husband rang me on it, which was a shock (old one didn’t work for phone calls.) He was using something called FaceTime which meant he could see me. Very disconcerting, I didn’t like it all. I refused to hold the phone in front of my face, so he had EarTime instead. Not sure he was very impressed.

We (Son and I) took my mother to buy a phone this week. I took Son for back up. In the first shop, Carphone Warehouse, an assistant came and asked if we needed any help.

“Yes please,” said Mum, “please can you tell me….” she leant closer and lowered her voice, “would these phones be cheaper at Tesco?”

Really? Was this really the conversation we were going to have? But yes, it was. The assistant was completely unperturbed and whispered back that yes, Tesco would be cheaper, and so would the shop opposite, and actually, they didn’t have many phones in stock anyhow. Super. I now rather like Carphone Warehouse, because they have honest assistants (who can cope with my mother). But it wasn’t the question I was expecting her to ask. Eventually Son took over, and helped her order a phone on the internet. I knew it was a good idea to have children.

Hope you have a good week.
Take care.
Anne x

Thank you for reading.

anneethompson.com

xxx

A Family Barge Trip

Posted by

4


We had a family barge trip. I must admit, I was slightly dreading this beforehand – the whole family confined in a single room (albeit a floating one), not great facilities, very little sleep, not much to do….I was anticipating a rerun of some of the camping trips I recall from childhood. However, it was great. Really, it was so much fun.

We picked up the 8-man narrow boat at Trevor, near Llangollen. This entailed a long briefing session, so we knew how to use the boat. Very long. I was assured afterwards that those who had listened could now build their own boat if necessary. The boat was also very long. And very narrow (hence the name). The beds especially were narrow – this is not a good holiday for fat people.

 

Sailed (do you say ‘sailed’ if there is no sail? Unsure of boating terms here) across a couple of aqueducts. I should tell you, aqueducts are high. Really, really high. And they have absolutely no rail to stop you stepping over the edge. One side is the tow path (with restraining rail), the other side is a 126ft drop, straight down. It would however, be a pretty place to die. (Son 2 ranted for some time about the fact that we insist on peanuts being labelled with a warning:May contain nuts, but there is no rail on the side of the Pontcysyllte Aqueduct).

We also did a couple of tunnels. Tunnels are seriously dark. So dark that, if you are walking through them with an excited german shepherd dog, you cannot see the edge of the tow path and have to hope that she doesn’t pull you into the canal. I expect that some families, when entering a tunnel, shout a warning to other people on the boat who might be reading/in the loo/washing up. Obviously this is not essential though.

Yes, we did take the dog. She slept in my cabin, which she found very exciting. She is a very smelly dog – the air was somewhat intense after the first night. We left her in the boat while we went to find somewhere for dinner. When we left, our boat was the one that was crying. When we got back, we found her standing on husband’s bed watching the ducks out the window.

We also took our 3 adult children, a girlfriend and a boyfriend. If you hire a barge, it’s a good idea to go with people who you know well – there is no escaping the fact that you are going to hear everything that happens in the toilet.

As I said, I loved it. We were away for three nights, which were fairly sleepless (narrow bed, noisy toilets, regular licks on face from excited dog). However, the days were brilliant. I mainly walked along the tow paths – mile upon mile of beautiful scenery, no cars; and no one telling me they were tired and asking how much further I intended to walk. Then, when I was tired, there was my armchair/toilet/cup of tea, right beside me. Brilliant.

The family also had fun and proved to be an adept boat crew. The boyfriend was quickly put in charge of driving (he went through less bushes and hit fewer banks than some of the other people who steered). Daughter proved to be rather good at tugging on ropes, and the blokes seemed to enjoy the whole muscle/active thing. They also played poker – using dog food kibble as chips – which the dog enjoyed.

The only thing we never really mastered was tying the ropes when we moored. We would pass boats with these neat knots, and ours looked like they had been plaited and wound into macrame shapes. (I have an aunt who used to weave macrame plant pot holders – these were not dissimilar.)

We were also not very good at being tidy. Boats are meant to be tidy (it is where the term ‘ship shape’ comes from. Ours was more ‘sh** shape’).

At the end of the few days, I was ready to come home and have a proper shower (as in, one that actually had water coming out of it). But the holiday was so much fun. It was fairly active, but we could have just sat and read if we’d wanted to do nothing. I have already booked a week with my children each year when I am ninety (they can take it in turns to take me). Am also hoping to go again next year – though I might book a B&B for the nights…..

Thank you for reading.

If you enjoyed this, why not sign up to follow my blog?

anneethompson.com

xxxx

A Friend’s Wedding

Posted by

1


We went to a wedding. I haven’t been to a wedding for ages (no one seems to get married anymore) so it was rather lovely. All my children (who aren’t children) came back for the weekend, and off we went.

Getting ready on time is always a challenge. I won’t tell you about the person who washed his shirt an hour before we needed to leave, and then had to try and work out how the iron worked so he could dry it, as it couldn’t go in the tumble dryer. Of course, it’s always much more hassle for females, especially females my age, because dresses that fitted perfectly well a short time ago have all shrunk while hanging in the wardrobe. I tried on a variety, with daughter giving me feedback (so glad I have a daughter – she lent me a fascinator too, not that it tended to stay in place).

We arrived on time. The church was quite full, so we ended up behind a pillar, which had limited visibility, but we could see enough. I was slightly surprised that an older woman had chosen to wear a long white dress; which didn’t seem very tactful for a wedding. When I put my glasses on I realised it was the vicar.

The service was lovely. There we were, in an ancient church, listening to two people promise that they would join their lives together. This was no casual “let’s see how it goes and then decide” arrangement, this was two people trusting each other enough to be prepared to actually make a commitment. The fact that they also wanted to include God and so held the ceremony in a church made it that little bit more special.

We then dodged gravestones while trying to watch the photos being taken. I found this particularly challenging as I wobbled on unaccustomed heels over bumpy graves, whilst forgetting that my hat was wider than my shoulders, so I kept bumping in to people. I needed a “danger, wide load” sign. There were six bridesmaids, and my niece was the best one. (Not that I’m biased or anything). It was all terribly pretty, the bride looked like a mermaid princess in a fish-tailed white dress with waves of blonde hair. The flowers were white and lilac, and the button-holes were wild flowers tied with twine, which was rather pretty.

We weren’t invited to the main reception (despite being the aunt of the best bridesmaid) so we went home for the afternoon. One of my ducks hatched seven ducklings, so I spent a happy hour chasing ducks around and getting covered in poo. The big ducklings were terribly interested, and spent the rest of the day peering at the new arrivals (they were in a separate cage within the main aviary).

It then felt very strange putting all our posh stuff back on, removing poop and straw from our hair (well, only my hair actually) and going back for the evening reception. There were many discussions as to whether the evening reception would be casual and therefore jeans would be appropriate, but we manage to persuade him back into a suit.

The evening was fun. There was a band, and we all like to dance. I was especially impressed that both my sons can dance whilst holding a glass of beer (I knew it was worth paying for private education). We have fun together when we’re out. My children are all friends – which is by chance, not due to my excellent parenting, but it does make occasions like that fun. When they were small they were always a gang, and it was very hard for me to force them to accept that I was the leader of the gang. But now they’re grown up, we just have fun.

I hope you have some happy times too this week. One evening I’m going to the summer exhibition at The Royal Academy of Art, so if it’s good I’ll tell you about it next week.

Thanks for reading.
Take care,
Anne x

xxx
If you enjoyed this, why not sign up to follow my blog?

xxx
All my books are now available on Kindle, so you can buy them from Amazon in whichever country you live. You can read them on a Kindle, or download a free app and read them on a tablet.

Hidden Faces by Anne E Thompson
JOANNA by Anne E Thompson
Counting Stars by Anne E Thompson

 

 

 

 

PS. My tomato seedlings are mostly doing well. The ones in the seed tray are a bit flattened though….