This is going to endeavour to be a factual account rather than a raging at the light or the storms of life. When I sat down to write it I wasn’t sure I would publish it as I really feel it is intensely personal, however I realise I may be able to help someone out there. This is my account and no one else’s, those closest to me will have experienced things differently. Some of us share all our fears and doubts with friends and family, others- like me – hibernate. Luckily inside me is what I call my India rubber ball; when I have been down or depressed at times, I feel this irrepresible glimmer of optimism eventually begin to grow. It has been a good friend to me.

You may or may not have read my previous blog where I described the loss of my beloved godmother, this followed closely on the prolonged death of my mother. Most people would understand the difficulties these two deaths brought to me but I think it is time to explain a bit further. This may even help someone going through the same thing. I really hope it will explain me and my recent behaviour a bit more clearly.

Mum was diagnosed with grade 4 metastasised cancer in November 2020; I gave up work to look after her; but after breaking her leg due to secondary bone cancer she went into hospital where she caught covid; listening to her on the phone hallucinating was tough; she survived and went to a care home where she had several strokes rending her right hand useless. Due to covid she had very few visitors but at the very end they let me stay beside her for ten days and nights until she died in July 2021. I will gloss over all the pain which not only I but my brother and daughter and others suffered.

During this time my godmother was diagnosed with a rare condition called CPD (cortico basal degeneration). It meant that she too lost the use of her right hand and eventually her right arm. She and I spoke very often in the mornings and when I could visit her in London we discussed what the condition would mean. She did not want to become the prisoner of her body that my mother had become, she did not want to be hoisted and unable to do most things for herself. The condition leads to almost complete paralysis of one side of the body, dementia and eventually the loss of swallow reflex. She decided that rather than take a cocktail of drugs (an option), she would go to Switzerland for assisted suicide. I went with her. She left behind a much loved husband and his children. One of her sons-in-law came with us which was invaluable for me. Being an accidental witness to the moments when she said goodbye to her husband was one of the most beautiful and moving things I ever experienced.

Bev was not able to get herself dressed and undressed so it was a privilege to be able to do that for her. We had her last three nights together. For the final two we slept in single beds, side by side, holding hands and talking – I will never forget those times. Bravery doens’t describe her, she was noble. I can’t describe the ending as it is still too hard to visit, it was not the beautiful, elegant sanctuary which we had expected. Coming home and carrying her suitcase, leaving her there, was agony. The whole event was traumatic for me.

When we got back we had to engage a solicitor to deal with the police for us. It is a crime in this country so we were suspects and as we had assisted by pushing the wheel chair, driving the car and helping with arrangements all counted against us; also the fact that we were mentioned in the will. There has been a long, agonising time which I have found almost impossible to endure, made harder by the fact we were forbiden to talk about it. The solicitor was not able to find the correct person within the Metropolitan police who would deal with our case. We had been warned that it could take two years. I developed extreme anxiety, unable to go into supermarkets or see friends, I was still able to function enough to drive my son to school and pick him up most days but he got his own food. I was able to hide the true extent of my anxiety from most people, not airing your dirty laundry in public and keeping a stiff upper lip is ingrained and is sometimes quite useful. My health took a huge hit as living on adrenaline is seriously damaging, I had a breakdown really. I eventually found a wonderful counsellor who has made a massive difference. Being able to talk without judgement or fear of competition, being in a safe place to have panic attacks and held in safety and wisdom has made a huge difference. I have a handful of girlfriends who have been like angels, not trying to make me better, listening and just being gentle. I have not been able to be with people who are strong or quick and efficient. My preferred place was on the sofa with all the curtains shut. I had a vivid fear of the police knocking on the door and an image of an angry police man – this is not a small thing but a real projection. When you fnd someone in this state, don’t try to cajole them out of it, just be with them, be still and be gentle, they are probably doing the very best they can do to get through the days.

It has taken me three months; my godmother died on 1st December 2022 – we have incredibly been given the all-clear by the police. The most heartfelt and empathic letter arrived from a DS in the Major Investigation Team of the Met police. I wrote a physical letter to her saying how massive the impact of her email was, particularly because she was thoughtful and compassionate. Since that email came, I feel free to focus entirely on the grief which I feel for Bev. As her husband said, she was not merely a person, she was a way of life. For anyone lucky enough to have known her, she was wise, intelligent always curious, knowledgeable, immensely kind, beautiful and loving. For me, she always strived to make me the best me I could be – by making me question what was right in front of me, by encouraging my endeavours, by complimenting and openly loving me without being tricky or competitive. I miss her every day in a million ways.

I recently had a mole checked which is apparently a BCC, I have also been told that I have Lupus which affects my skin and hair. I realise that whilst not life threatening, these and the fact that next year I hit a big birthday, mean that I need to work out what is important for me. Sitting alone on a beach I realised that I was not, as I have always maintained – half way through my life, but three quarters. That is a shock to me and I have been very thoughtful as a result.

I have experienced 7 deaths of close members of my family since 2000; two divorces after very difficult marriages, two of my children have suffered from mental health issues; money worries; 3 ruptured discs; ok! So now it sounds like a pity party! As I said at the beginning this is not an account from the view of anyone else and it is just factual.

When I mentioned how much I felt I had on my shoulders, a wise friend said “He only gives us what we can handle, but I wish He didn’t trust you so much”.

Poetry means a lot to me and I was lucky enough to talk about it to both mum and Bev, it is not only reassuring but reflects some of what I am feeling at different times. I had the greatest beginning in life as I had mother who read to me. My most beloved three children and one grandson are future I know – whatever that looks like. My loyal and loving friends make me feel heard, supported, that it’s a two-way thing with us and that we can still laugh inspite of it all. One of my all time favourite poets is Rupi Kaur – not only her poetry but also her drawings. “and here you are living despite it all” makes me cry.

Having braved the world through the safety of my blogging, I now feel the need to write again. Thank you to those of you kind enough to read it and those kind enough to comment.

The mini break I had, my MumScape, gave me some perspective. Crying after having had a lovely massage, feeling surprisingly comfortable on my own in restaurants and even cramming myself into a swim suit but importantly having time to think, to be, to hear myself – all contributed. I am not a Spartan, self care and nurturing matter now. There is a song by Pink which I love called Trust Fall, I realised that I can be my own trust fall catcher. I know that there are still things to come down the pipeline of life but I can see forward now, I see myself this time next year with more positivity and courage. One of my beloved Godmother’s favourite phrases was Bon Courage, I can see her dear face and hear her voice saying it to me. She had no children of her own but mothered and nurtured all who knew her, especially me.

I don’t share details of my children’s lives here as that is their own story to share if they choose. Suffice to say none of them have had it easy but I want them to learn better from me. Self protection and preservation, nurturing of self and believing that you really do matter in this world are such important fundamentals. My children are the most important beings in my life and I tell them often. Being a good example includes showing them that other people love you and treat you with respect. I have become aware of being influenced by others with pushier personalities. I admire and adore some of my warrior girlfriends but I have grown a steelier backbone lately and I will gently stand my ground.

Today is International Women’s Day – I was trying to think of an exclamation that did not include men – Oh Man! Oh Boy! Oh Brother! Goodness! Crikey! Good Lord! Oh Lordy! bravo! all spring to mind easily but not so much one for women – Go Girl! or Mama Mia! The derivation of the word Woman is fascinating in itself! Accoring to Patricia T. O’Conner and Stewart Kellerman in Anglo-Saxon times ‘manna’ and other similar words referred to a human regardless of sex. A single or married man was a ‘wer’ or ‘waepman’ which, delightully, means a weapon person! A single or married woman was a ‘wif’ or ‘wifman’. The latter’s ‘f’ began to be dropped and the word eventually ended up being woman and ‘wif’ contrarily kept her ‘f’ and became a wife. Poor old manna referred to man or human, meaning female humans had their very own word.

We can always think of strong and brilliant women, too many to mention although they all do deserve a mention somewhere – warriors and survivors, scientists and soldiers, priests and politicians, the unnamed that we know in our own lives. Daughters: 50 per cent of us are one of those! It may conjur painful memories, life lived with abuse; or a life of love and encouragement, respect and joy. Maybe a combination. Mother’s day is coming up soon and I have many complicated thoughts and feelings racing about my mind. I want to be a loving, understanding mother, one who will fight lions for their children but also a mother who can stand back and let them fight their own battles and be there to cheer or pick up the pieces. I hope they all come back home with no warning and bring anyone with them, knowing they will get a happy scream and a warm welcoming hug.

There are times in life when a curved ball turns into a wrecking ball. I have had many challenging life experiences and I know I am not alone. However, events lately have been more than I could cope with. The death of my mum and then a year and a half later, the death of my beloved Godmother. Both deaths were complicated, mum became a prisoner in her own body and the ending was prolonged and painful. My Godmother’s death was different but just as hard. I was able to be with both of them for the few days leading up to it. Afterwards I became rather reclusive, I found it hard to get perspective and did not feel ready to face the world, including friends and shops etc. The doctor prescribed sleepers, valium and panic attack meds. Feeling alone, waking at 3 with sweats from bad dreams, eating crap and drinking alcohol probably too much. I went to see a hypnotherapist who was amazing and it felt like a safe space to talk without guilt or judgement. To have your words reflected and looked at in another way than the spiral you are in.

This week I was describing my emotions as though I have a strong wall to protect me and each time there was a death or a divorce, single parenting or children not being well or money worries; all the trials of life – my wall still stood, but this time the tsunami just breached the wall. It was accumulative – all the previous stuff came back. Grief hits people in different ways and there are no right ways of dealing with it. There are many deaths, the death of a dream, the physical death and the deaths of resilience, joy, optimism, beauty, strength.

At times like these your stress bucket becomes full and you are not able to look outward. You begin to catastrophise and look for danger, you live on adrenaline but at the same time you are exhausted.

As I write this, I am sitting in a hotel room, I have taken myself on a retreat to a hotel in a town I have never been to before. I didn’t want to bump into anyone who knows me. A friend of mine died two days ago, my age, a brave and generous, loving woman who leaves a husband and three children. The cruelty of fate and ill luck are unpredictable. I want to be around for the next 40 years to see my children, grand children and friends. There have been times when I have not wanted to be here but the darkness is gradually leaving me. The reason I chose a phoenix as the logo for my new business is that although she has been through fire, her feathers are still soft. She is not covered in armour plating.

What has got me to this stage is not the medication but my children, the few girl friends I have allowed in; being able to talk to wise and professional people and my irrepressible rubber ball which inspite of the tsunami, has begun to bounce back. I am so pleased to notice the small things again like the spring bulbs and flowers which really do matter in a grey world. I even sang in the car last week and have noticed my sense of humour poking out. When you are in that black place, other people being amusing just seems crass and so far removed from you. It truly is patience and time and the support of people just messaging regularly and saying we have not given up on you.

I want to end this on a lighter note as this is not what I want my blog to be.

Last evening I was alone in the dining room, I put in my order for an Aperol spritz and some olives. I sat there with my rather bad book trying to look as though I was entirely in control. The drink arrived and 20 minutes later I was told the olives were just coming, they were still in the oven! Then arrived a bowl of hot olives with hot feta cheese. The supposedly Italian waiter stood over me with his arms held rather too far back, anxiously waiting my verdict. Hmmm I said. He then assumed I was a food critic so I had lots of attention and some delicious crab starter and a lovely hake main course. He anxiously handed me a trip advisor card with his name written firmly across it.

I am off in my dressing gown to the spa for a massage in a minute, then I plan to have delicious lunch and later tea and cake. No healthy living for me! All three children have been in touch which is warming and nourishing and I am already looking forward to getting back to them.

Well, I didn’t expect that! The full body massage was amazing, the girl who performed it was lovely and I felt calm and relaxed. At the end when speaking to the recptionist however, I burst into tears! much consternation from her and the masseuse but I reassured them that it was just that it was that I – like most women – do not get much time to pamper myself and indulge. They were lovely and brought me water and coffee and we had good chats.

I am now back in my room looking at my shiny oiled legs and thinking that I will continue to make time to have small treats, a cup of coffee out, a massage or facial. Importantly I shall do it mindfully and enjoy the feeling because I’m worth it! We all are but many of us, my mother included never allow ourselves to do these things thinking they are self indulgent. Certainly when we were young there was no extra money to spend on herself, but later on when there was a bit, my mother would never have had a facial or gone to a spa. She felt guilty for eating out or having her hair done but that didn’t make her happy. I believe that within reason, it is perfectly acceptable to take time out for ourselves. Eating food we didn’t make, having our hair done or a massage not only supports those hard working individuals but can help to make us less scrunched up.

This blog is going on for rather a long time but I suppose that is to be expected from someone who has been unsually silenced. I still have a small inner voice saying it is self indulgent to share and to dwell. However, there is a louder voice saying that to keep anxiety and fear, anger and resentment locked inside you is toxic and can lead to illness. I know that I am empathic and have always been a good listener. I hope this experience has made me wiser so that I can impart something useful to anyone who needs a friend. It is still a beautiful world, I am off to go and eat something else delicious.

If you have never been to Sonwdonia I thoroughly recommend the beauty of the area. Those who know me, know that my lack of geographical skills are something else, so I can’t tell you where we were except to say you need a lot of spit to pronounce it. Llyn Trawsfynydd – you try! Lots of sheep, lots of grass and bracken but the hills (possibly one or two are mountains) just a stunning vista. On day two we all trudged up and up and up and up hill. Child two of course cheerfully flitting up them like a beautiful fairy, dad rather weighed down with smallest one on his back, child 3, his usual chilled, horizontal self just walking man! Granny brining up the rear like a steam train – that was my chest wheezing! But oh my – the views were absolutely worth it, so stunning and definitely extraordinary. Down we went and ended up in the pub, absolutley the right end to any walk.

Since coming home, I have been reflecting on the people, times and places which make up your life. Some are random, some chosen and some thrust upon you. Maybe every situation brings a lesson and maybe every person in your life is there for a reason. It can be hard to look in the mirror but harder still when someone holds the mirror in your face. As children we learn coping strategies which we may not even be aware of. Children are extraordinary at covering a hearing loss or lack of ability to comprehend their academic work or their sporting expectations as well as the next child. We all adapt as we grow older but sometimes we become set in ways which are not as plesant or socially acceptable to others. At these times it takes someone close to us to point things out and this is often harsh to face up to.

At times it seems that the world we wish for, one of peace and harmony, enough money, a career we enjoy and the happiness of our precious children and the love of friends – may slip away a bit. But I was talking to a dear friend today about bounce-back-ability. We agreed that it is a very useful tool and one which I feel blessed to posses. If you have times such as these remember that someone will hear you and remember that at the end of the day you need to say to yourself “have I done what I can to the best of my ability today?” Then light a candle.

With the approach of harvest festival time we think of endings.  For the Truss household things could not ended more strangely or rapidly.  I understand she will be compensated for her loss, not the same for those who have lost thousands off their pension plans. Anyhow I hope her husband runs her a long hot bath tonight and that tomorrow she can keep her head down.  I suspect there are very few of us who would want to be PM right now.

These past few days have been so gloriously full of mists and mellow fruitfulness.  If you are able to get outside for a walk it is inspiring for the soul to lift your head and look at the leaves and blue sky.

Saturday is my first beloved’s birthday – don’t ask me how old, I don’t do numbers. Suffice to say she is a truly remarkable young woman.  It’s not just me that says it, she spreads love and joy everywhere.  She is brave and strong and actuallly beautiful. Life has thrown her several curved balls and put rocks in her path but she climbs over them and walks on.  Always self effacing and self critical, she does not realise how much she has to be proud of.  She is one of my greatest joys as her little chap is hers. 

We are all off to stay in a cottage somewhere in Wales to celebrate, just as the weather changes, but skin is waterproof and we have a fire and alcohol so we will be grand.

My second born is off to Seville tomorrow on a school trip for a week. It sounds amazing even though they have to join in the lessons in a genuine Spanish school. In fact, when they wrote with the itinerary and emergency numbers in case of emergencies – i replied with can I come too.  Flamenco dancing, cathedrals, shopping and churros! 

Boy and I will hunker down in the newly decorate casa nostra and I shall enjoy looking at the back of his dear little head as he plays x box and tries not to swear. Actually its not a small head, it’s enormous. When they had to give him uniform for his recently joined combined cadet forces expedition, they had to give him the instructors bonnet! They then proceeded to take the little darlings to Sennybridge where they marched them up and down, gave them a much used sleeping bag and roll mat (no changing into pj’s) and lay them on concrete floor of disused hangar. Apparently it was much warmer outside.  He survived.

The ex hub and son came to dinner this week so that I could thank the old duffer for having us to stay.  It really was a noble deed and one which we both confessed to having enjoyed. It feels so great to be back home. I can’t wait for child 2 to come home in half term but child 3 loved his new room, especially his gaming chair. I had to apologise that the one arm was wobbly where the allen key seemed to stop working so I could not tighten it. Having told him to leap on his new bed, he duly did and then lay in silence for a minute. Having peeled himslef off, he said “oi’ve got whiplash now” – well it is firm.

Staying with my old friend F recently she remarked that no one eats cake these days. I looked at her astonished and said well, in the country we all do. In fact I have been known to meet one friend for coffee and cake in the morning and another for cake and tea in the same afternoon. As I type O best beloved, I am doing just that – a large scone with lashings of butter and jam and Earl Grey tea. Yum.

I have just come from a meeting with my web dsigner for my new web. I think I should have taken notes as tomorrow I will probably stare blankly at the screen and try to remember in vain what he said.  Anyway, it is up and running so if you have a moment do take a look. I am actually excited to be starting my new business and meeting lovely new clients and hearing their stories. www.megthecelebrant.co.uk

Cool, its gone blue!

I am thinking of my dearest GM who continues to be unwell, and of her dear hubby. I will be back soon.  Bon courage.

Well my goodness it has been a long time since we had a chat! If I tried to explain all the things that have been happening you wouldn’t believe me, or more likely you would log out before you got half way. Just rantings and mumblings. So I shall not do that. Since my last offering, our marvellous Queen has died and been buried in some spectacular style. Deservedly so! Imagine that little girl being able to see into the future and seeing powerful, influential, intelligent and ordinary people from all over the world in which she was living, paying homage to little old her. She might have run away, jumped on a pony and fled to the moors like Cathy. Thank goodness she didn’t, we needed someone like her who in a strange was was quite ordinary and fallible to show us that with hard work, dedication and faith in her mapped future she could stick to the promises she so bravely made while very young.

My dearly beloved Godmother was not well at the time of the funeral so very unlike me, a staunch Royalist, I did not queue for hours to silently bow my head to her coffin. Instead I went to Windsor and laid a bunch of flowers outside the castle gates and had a moment on my own on the long walk. A very moving and poignant time, bringing back memories of waving flags and gloves at her on her way to Ascot races. Windsor is a magnificent castle and very well worth a visit, particularly to the Queen’s doll house, but the town, like so many others, has lost its uniqueness in a sea of chain stores and insignificance.

Since then I have had a busy old few weeks, my wonderful M&P finished decorationg the house, new carpets down and eventually the re-movers came in with boxes and stuff. Thank you for help from wonderful efficient Jess who works so hard. The ex-hub and I have survived wiithout killing each other, in fact, may I whisper that we got on really well and both quite enjoyed the sharing of our boy and the cooking and washing up – there is a reason God made dishwashers. The girlfriend has been so understanding and generous and I have promised not to do it again- with a bunch of flowers to say thanks to both. My new business is now up and running and you can check out the website if you wish and if you hear of anyone renewing their vows, marrying for the 6th time or naming their cherub then let me know. Child 2 is struggling on with mountains of work for her International Bacceluarete (no idea of spelling – I faliled French). Child 3 has spent the begining of term enjoying not being the least significant any more. Child one and family have juggled business, getting their house ready for selling and coping with most precious one spending a night in hopsital with chesticles. Thankfully all fine now.

Do you ever get that feeling when you have a secret that makes your bum cheeks clench? So, I bought something rather expensive which I couldn’t tell anyone about for the sake of doing the ta da reveal. Well I have always wanted one and I did loads of reasearch beforehand….. chin going up! I am now the proud owner of a campervan. So I picked it up, drove it home, ran it down to Gower to camp for two nights and child one etc joined me there which was gorgeous. I did feel guilty as they hunkered down beside me in their tent and I luxuriated in my van. However, it is half as big again as Frank in Canada and as it is old, has one or two problems including leaking of grey water – yuk! Driving on the motorway is a doddle especially if they are only 50 mile an hour limit but when I decided to drive it down to gorgeous big bro 60th birthday weekend in Devon it was a bit of a problem. “text me when you get here” he messages “cos there is a very sharp corner on a hill coming up to the rented house”. EEEEEk So i message him and he runs down to show me the way and goes white “you didn’t – you bloody thing. Well I don’t know how we get it up the drive”! Anyway we do it and all the gorgeous nephews and neices come running out and absolutely love her. A fabulous few days spent enjoying each other and celebrating my really amazing brother. The video that was done by family and freinds was heartfelt and totally deserved. Since arriving back home the battery is now dead so we will be camping quite close to home.

The house looks amazing now and I can’t wait to get all my chicks home and to have an amazing celebration and christening but no spilling drinks. In the meantime my thoughts are with my beautiful, unique and wonderful fairy godmother.

Dear Diary

Well we have been busy lately! Since I last wrote, the Uncle from Oz has left UK for California, very nice retirement. Actually we all miss him as he managed to get around most family and friends and be helpful, practical, encouraging and charming. He and I had a lovely last walk and pub lunch which both we and the dog thoroughly enjoyed. See ya next year!

Then I had my first ever meeting with my first ever clients with my Civil Celebrancy hat on.  Such a lovely couple and a great first meeting, time flew! Now for some background work on my part and roll on the next meeting. Still having problems with designing my new website so cannot get my flyers out yet until logo is finalised. I will share the link with you when it is up and running – not too heavy on the criticism please!

I have been very much appreciative of the subdued music and chat which has emanated from whichever radio is on wherever I am.  For such a brief period of time it is the least we can do to have our normal routines a little disrupted for a brave strong woman who truly made sacrifices in her life, often for us – we ourselves! There have been some random decisions made like cancelling football matches but not rugby or cricket; arresting someone who was shouting out although the fellow bystanders who wrestled him to the ground were not arrested; loved the sight of the gillies carrying the coffin and the horses and ponies lining the route. We had a most affecting and appropriate church service on Sunday and sang GSThe King for the first time as others did. It does seem strange. What will it be like to see a change of image on coins, stamps and post boxes to name but a few.

Meanwhile having done by Boot camp again on Monday and staggered home two gorgeous friends pooped in for coffee and spontaneous lunch – always the best kind. One of us was in a bad way to begin with but prosecco and lentil salad and much advice later we were all merry bands of sisters again. There is nothing like sharing woes and celebrations with good girl friends.  All of you out there, thank you for the many many times we have been there for each other.

Next day I jaunted off to see my precious Spud; my GG – gorgeous grandson.  He, very appropriately, calls me Gar Gar. So lovely to play endless ring a roses and hear him chuckle. Not to mention seeing my Number one child – just great.

Thoughtful and a bit sad later as I had a call from my most beloved Fairy Godmother who lives too far away for me to get to often enough.  There are some people in your life who love you entirely and unconditionally and whom you love back in the same way. It is a special and precious relationship and one to be nurtured and acknowledged whenever you get the chance. As we get older we hold each other just that bit tighter while also letting go. 

This morning I helped out for a bit, in the Food Bank in Ledbury. A humbling experience where you work jolly hard to fill carrier bags with groceries the people have requested.  The atmosphere is lovely, kind, supportive and a really efficient operation.  I helped a poor girl write an email to court concerning her most unpleasant ex and the kids. It is great to have a safe place where no one is judging and everyone is trying their best. Delicious smelling cooked breakfast cheerfully cooked by a lovely chap for whom nothing was too much trouble and who kept plying us with welcome cups of tea.

And so I am off to London this weekend with apparently 2 million others, I might get there by Wednesday next! I would love to take my place and walk past the catafalque (what a great word) but equally would love to go to the funeral or at least place some flowers. Not sure what will happen but I have special people to see.  As D H Lawrence said “watch the living not the dead”.

Must go and fetch number three from school soon and then go to PCC meeting to discuss spires and fund raising.  Stay safe all.  X

This week has been a mixed bag of ups and downs. Still no word about the sale of mum’s cottage. We have chivvied the solicitor but no word yet as to exchange of vital papers. However I have every faith that it will come soon.  The wonderful M and P are cracking on with repairs on our home in a wonderful way.

I had a potentially disastrous situation with taxes. The enigmatic grey voiced people behind the HMRC’s helpline, once I eventually got through after ageing significantly. However the outcome was very positive and they are not going to make me pay money I didn’t owe them in the first place. Thank you to the lovely S for talking me through it and being a wise and calming influence.

Somewhat frazzled I raced to my PCC meeting at the rectory flying past citizens with zimmer frames leaving them gently twirling in the sunshine. Screeched to a halt to find no other cars, checked phone only to find the meeting was back where I had just come from at the other rectory. Zimmer frames now spinning anti clockwise, I flew past them mouthing sorries and arrived 30 minutes late for a two hour meeting of praiseworth parish biz.

Race from there to collect Child 3 from first day at school armed with sweet treats. Monosyllables in reply to my bright chatter and questions, only to be expected. Having cooked a rather delicious tomato sauce thanks to my dad’s neighbours glut of growth, early night for all. Child 3 sneaks in to say goodnight as is his habit and when I ask him wearily to leave my bed and retire he tells me it’s not my bed – I am renting it! Once again I am left hopelessly amused by my gentle kind smelly witty son.

Since writing this we have received the news of the death of Her MajestyThe Queen.  Anyone who knows me knows that I am a staunch royalist and I am feeling very sad, thoughtful but of course so relieved that she went in the way she would have wanted. To be fulfilling her extraordinary promise to serve her people whether her life be long or short, working until two days before her death at 96. Truly awe inspiring.  I was lucky enough to live most of my life and the entirety of my school days in Windsor, I saw the Queen many times. On each Royal occasion including jubilees and funerals I have gone alone or dragged my poor long suffering children along to sleep outside in insufficient sleeping bags. I dress in red, white and blue to watch the television if I can’t get there and nearly always stand for the Anthem. I can’t say long live the King yet, it’s too soon for me. There are so many people who will be directly affected by her death, not just her family but ladies in waiting and members of all her households who knew her far more intimately than we could. So many people have stories of the time they met her and she was gracious. Ex hub has a good one- having sat next to her at a dinner whilst in the army, he picked up his plate and showed her the pattern on the bottom to which she smiled and said nothing. Then moving into the withdrawing room there was a cheeky bat flying about, having chased it out with a cushion the same Ex hub gave his Queen an order to close the door!! 

Love to everyone and hugs to anyone who needs one. X

Firstly I want to share a proud mum post here to say well done to my little Raven and her Gold DofE cohort who completed 93K in canoes. Poor bedraggled feathers as she had fallen in on day one so everything was wet, then they were moved on to concrete as the camp site was too wet to camp. We raced over to see her and have a rather brief hug as handed over towels, clothing and tuck. Next time we see her will be a leave weekend. Please text your mother, she worries! As it falls on deaf ears.

My day began with Boot Camp. Please be impressed! Having begun last term, I have not been back for the whole summer. Running about with medicine balls and thwacking long rubber ropes not to mention press ups and squats is hard enough but old unfit bodies do not respond well. Not only that but I packed my sports bra in the storage containers by mistake so some of you will know the indignity and the discomfort of being slapped in the face by your own body parts as you leap about. I set the alarm half an hour early and realised too late it didn’t start for another half hour but i had locked myself out if the house and Ex Hub and number 3 were snoring soundly. No I did not go for a run, I sat under a tree watching Tik Tok – somebody has to!

Went to check on the progress of my house.  The wonderful M and P have worked so hard and I am daring to get excited about how it looks. Bought a couple of things like loo roll holders and a new light fitting. Back and forth to Homebase as kept getting it wrong, then to flooring people to ask if I could change order as not sure I like it; too late now it’s been ordered.  Oh well. Checked when they could fit new carpets and apparently they have just taken on a really big job which will use up all their fitters. Okaaaaay! Delay there then!

Email to website designer for new business to chivvy him (what a good word) as was expecting to hear it was all complete. He said he has been waiting for me, when I pointed out very nicely that I had sent everything he said he had missed a few emails. Doesn’t bode too well for an iT type of chap.  Delay there then too!

I am sitting on my sofabed watching the familiar back of No 3’s head and listening to “Oh no” type expletives as he gets himself killed again. All good for hand to eye coordination apparently so therefore educational. Ex Hub at some teacher meeting so I am going to crack on with supper, left overs from yesterday’s epic pork plus a baked tattie. Yum! It will be good to get on with routine tomorrow, think we all need it. 

P.s. an absolutely spectacular lightning show last night, plus thunder and rain, which lasted for ages  and lit up the rooms. Autumn is here. 

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!