Having returned from Cornwall I had to roll my sleeves up to help Child 2 off on Gold DofE trip on the river, in spite of developing medial epicondylitis in her right elbow nd a significant rib strain. Not the easiest task but luckily one of Ex Hub’s skills as ex military is being able to pack a bivvy bag. The miniature amount of equipment allowed was well packed into two very small bags eventually. No mobiles allowed so anxious mothers cannot remind them to wear a vest. Tasks not over yet, a call from No 2 to help her – dye her green hair – black! Ok, no problem, gloves on. Clean bathroom. Gloves off and help with packing all school uniform, school books and home clothes – for Child 2 is a boarder. It never matters how long summer holidays are there are always things left until the last minute. Finally done, tuck packed into secret spaces. Downstairs to make up sofa bed for me at 1.30 am.
Up at 6 to take my Raven to meet the others in the rain, and off they go to some river somewhere until Tuesday.
Meantime sort out last minute uniform for Child 3 – not a boarder! Name taping and searching for shoes which I hope we have not sent into storage. Then Child One and Smallest P arrive for weekend. So lovely to see them both brown post a great Italian holiday. Off for long walks dropping by the village shop to rescue the school blazer which had been sent for dry cleaning. Lovely play with S and travel cot put down in Ex hubs office, we have a gorgeous supper with great chats. Early night.
Sunday is the day we bury mum’s ashes. A thought provoking occasion which came together this weekend due to the fact her brother was able to be with us before returning to Oz. Preparation was interesting as having bought an enormous piece of pig to cook for 24 hours, I realise that it will not fit into Ex hub’s oven, not to mention that the door does not shut properly and is held in place by a bungee. Into the breech steps the truly wonderful M. Calmly providing ovens, cups of tea and tlc not to mention invaluable culinary tips, M presides and allows her oven to be used for 24 hours which is very generous. Meantime I drive back and forth turning said pig and basting at the correct times.
Sunday morning after a slightly disrupted sleep from smallest person who is teething, we are all up and ready to find chairs from bedrooms and clean bathrooms. The most important job however is not yet done. Now this is not for the squeamish! I was determined to keep a bit of mum in a jam jar so that I could scatter her at our beloved Gower. However, she was not going to make it easy. Her lovely wooden casket is glued and screwed shut. Child One and I take knives and even a spoon to it to no avail so we fetch the screw driver. Inside we find a bag, mum has truly become an Old Bag, she would love that. We manage without spilling but quite a lot of giggling to place her in an appropriate Bon Maman jar (raspberry!!). I have a moment of concern when it comes to Child 3 who makes landscapes for his airfix models and has jam jars of soil in various places…..All done and mum back in lovely box with shiny brass top.
Poor Uncle from Oz is immediately dispatched to dig the hole before lunch. We do not have extra people in our church to carry out such tasks so it is up to us. Not easy but made harder as unbelievably the box for my brother which should have disappeared is still in evidence so not sure it is deep enough!
Brother C arrives with D and Uncle from Oz and dad. After a dash to M for last prep of pig, I race back with said pig in car. Child One has managed to make delicious salad while Child 3 plays with smallest. Not a natural situation for a teenage chap. M arrives as guest if honour and we finally eat, squeezing around the table.
Off to churchyard and the hole needs some adjustment so we set to then begin a really beautiful and heartfelt mini ceremony for mum. M even got the music which we were not able to have at her funeral and Look at Me I’m Dancing from Salad Days wafts over the grave and fields around. A lovely moment when Brother C places a sprig of blackberries in the grave and smallest person tries hard to reach in and scoff them. Mum would love that. Everyone goes their own way at the end and Child 3 and I go back to flop on sofas.
A special and busy weekend, thoughts are on the river with Child 2 – hope the river not too black!