Oh Crumbs!

I defy anyone to eat a Hob Nob biscuit without making a mess. This phenomena means that even when you try to sneak one without other people finding out, there is always evidence (unless you're really sneaky and manage to wipe up the crumbs before anyone else sees!).
But what a joy to eat. Worth all the effort of a cover up!!

Spring is sprung...!

The first day of March. Spring has officially arrived.
To quote Spike Milligan:
"Spring is sprung,
The grass is ris,
I wonder how the birdies is?!".
I love Spring. The days are getting longer, the weather is a little warmer, the darkest days of winter are over and I feel great. Driving through the countryside the newborn lambs are beginning to gambol around the fields. The spring bulbs are bringing a splash of long overdue colour and the birdsong is trumpeting in a new season.
Bye bye dark winter. Hello the joys of Spring!

Memories

This last month has been a very difficult one. January and February are never the best months in my book. Having said that we do have significant family occassions to celebrate including wedding anniversaries and birthdays. I think what makes these months more difficult is the fact that the weather can be very unpredictable, the feelgood factor of Christmas has faded, and New Years resolutions have been quickly abandoned!

This year however has been particularly difficult. What should have been a wonderful holiday in South Africa for my Mum and Step Dad turned into a nightmare. A dream holiday that was planned over many years to take in the breathtaking Garden Route ended in tragedy. In an innocent walk in a beauty spot, my Step Dad lost his footing and fell to his death over a cliff edge.

I cannot explain how useless I felt being unable to comfort my Mum who was thousands of miles away. The frustration too of not being able to drop things at home to be there when she flew home was so hard to bear.

It has made me think. Families are so far flung these days and we can't just "pop in" when we need to. Sure there are cars and public transport ( who unfortunately hold you to ransom with their exhorbitant prices when you have to book up in an emergency). But it's not the same as being there when someone needs you.

But I digress. What I wanted to say was that my Step Father was a lovely man who was generous in every way. He always had time for everyone and showed interest in eveything they did. He was not my Dad and never tried to be, but he was always there for my Mum and gave her such happy memories. He died doing what he liked best - travelling, with someone he cared so much for.

On Friday, exactly a month after his death, we shall gather together to Celebrate his life and to say good bye. It will be bitter sweet.

Rest in peace.

Hail the Milkman!!

A quick follow up to my last blog. We had snow last night. Not a huge amount but enough to make it a bit slippy and very cold.
Had to get up to go to the loo at 4.30 am, look out of the window! The foot prints in the snow tell me that the Milkman has already been! We live at the end of a cul de sac so it couldn't have been anyone else.
What a hero!!

Respect to the Milkman!

When I first got married we used to have a milkman who delivered all the milk we used. Supermarket milk hadn't yet hit the shelves properly and I thought that,with a young family, it would be easier than trying to find the odd pint at the local shops. It was okay but I often was out when he came for payment, so the bill got quite large.
Then one very snowy day, with two very small toddlers at home, he didn't bother to come. The excuse was that there was too much snow. Never mind that all the other milkmen had braved the icy wastes oF surburban Sidcup to serve their customers! That was it! Milkman sacked!
After that I managed to find enough milk from the larger supermarkets that were beginning to open nearby and that was that. Until we moved North.
Now living in a very rural location, and after a visit from the local Dairy I decided to try again. Not all of my milk but a token to support local trade-(it's very expensive to buy milk from the dairy!)
What a hero our Milkman is. Jim never fails to deliver, often in shorts and Tshirt (maybe a light jacket in Winter!). No matter what the weather the Pinta is on the doorstep long before I get out of bed. Always cheery and smiling, he is a milkman of the "old school" type. Happy to chat and talk footie with my hubbie he is a joy. And whilst the rest of the country grinds to a halt in this "Snow Fest", Jim, still in his shorts, gives service with a smile. Respect Jim!

"It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas"

I'm guessing that you could probably write a whole Blog about Christmas just using lines from popular seasonal songs! I don't really have the time to do that at the moment but I might try and slip a few in as I write.
So this is Christmas! Last Christmas (that's two already!) was a real family affair. The house was busy and there was no room at the Inn, so to speak. The only person missing was Lizzie, who had only just started dating Phil, and had already booked a trip back to the States to be with her family. Mind you her presence was almost tangible as Phil pined for the girl who had so quickly stolen his heart!
This year will be completely different and we have reached the time in life when, as parents, we have to gently unfurl our hands and let our offspring free to do their own thing. It will be strange and has caused me to reflect the many happy family Christmases we have enjoyed over the years.
The first Christmas Gordon and I were married was very exciting. I had just found out that I was expecting our first child and we were both over the moon. No one else knew and we revelled in our own special Christmas present to each other. Each Christmas since then our house has echoed to the sound of over excited children, various noisy presents kindly given by over enthusiastic Grandparents (one day it will be my turn. Be afraid, be very afraid!), later equally keen teenagers wanting mobiles, designer T shirts, Computer games etc., and now adults who enjoy just being together.
The times they are a changing! (Dylan, but not festive!). This year our brood will not be gathering at our nest. Instead they will be spending time with their other families and enjoying the type of Christmas that their spouses have come to cherish as part of their heritage.
Am I sad? Yes a little, but I am glad that they feel they are free to make choices that are for themselves. I would hate to be the type of Mother that won't let go.
In the near future they will start families of their own and will begin to develop their own Christmas traditions. The baton has been handed over to the next generation and that is only right and proper.
The upside is that we get to have a weekend in January with all of the family together. And what a time that will be!
"So here it is Merry Christmas every body's having fun!" It's more than just "Mistletoe and Wine" and "Deck the Halls". "Santa Clause is coming to town" and we shall all have great fun.
We shall miss them all but I'm guessing we might be back to a full house next year (and Gordon and I are already taking bets on who might have their own little secret Christmas present then!)

Time rolls by!

Autumn is a time of year that makes me feel a little confused. The evenings have grown longer and darker and there is a distinct chill in the air. Memories of summer are quickly fading and the worst of winter has yet to hit us. And yet there is a serenity and beauty about the changing season that cannot be appreciated at other times of the year.

The leaves on the trees are now far and few between and the colours of "Fall" are spread out on the ground like a luscious carpet of the deepest hues. As I drive down the country lanes near my house I find myself distracted by the beauty of the merging colours of the surrounding woodland, the magnificence of which cannot be overstated.

The fields are almost all empty of their crops now, and the ground has been tilled in readiness for next years harvest. Bare, dark patches of earth worked through all weathers by hardworking farmers.

Today the tree surgeon/gardener arrived to prune back the diseased Cherry tree and the vast hedges that surround our front garden. It needed doing and it is the right time of year to do the job. Arnott (yes that's right!) and his team went for it big time assuring me that it would look incredibly harsh but that the garden would benefit from the radical procedure. He wasn't wrong! The lushness has gone and the garden looks a bit sorry for itself at the moment. Roll on next Spring says I!

It made me think about how our lives sometimes need pruning right back to get rid of the deadwood, and encourage healthy growth. These processes are a bit painful and can leave you feeling a bit exposed. But it also brings a clarity and a light that is often blocked out by the thick, overgrown branches of life. Like my garden the new growth will be better, stronger and more attractive. Worth the initial pain of The Gardener's secateurs I think!