Striking

 

 

I'm spending today on my own, as usual for a Sunday, so I'm sitting here with a coffee and taking advantage of the quiet time to catch up with my journal.

 

Last Sunday I was on my own but I had some lovely Mother's Day cards. My daughter and step daughter rang me. Obviously my son couldn't from the depths of the Atlantic but his girlfriend did, so I felt loved. I also had a lovely surprise In the card from Catherine. A photo of her baby's face at 24 weeks. Where they live in Germany, these 3 D scans were developed. I think it's amazing and on this one she definitely has Flo's profile.

 

                    

 

Poor thing, there's no privacy anywhere these days, is there?

 

The weather has been horrible this week. I admit there has been some sun, which was a welcome change but the wind! It just never stopped, it was cold and made my hair constantly stand on end, which I hate and every half an hour or so, it would blow up a big black cloud that would deposit icy, stinging rain, which made just getting to the car an ordeal.

 

This morning, I’m pleased to see, the wind has lessened considerably and I may be tempted to get out in the garden this afternoon, after I’ve watched the Grand Prix of course.

 

The slight increase in the temperature and a few hours of sun has brought lots of leaves and flowers bursting forth, hopefully Spring ‘proper’ is just around the corner.

 

I had a new experience this week, something I never thought I would do. I went out on strike. My father would be spinning in his grave, only he was cremated, so I’m not sure what the equivalent would be, whirling up a dust storm maybe? Anyway, he wouldn’t be very pleased.

 

I remember his reaction when I joined the local Labour Club, so I could go to the weekly disco with my friends. You’d have thought I’d said I was a fully paid up member of the Communist Party.

 

I didn’t choose to strike, I am a member of UNISON, if I was asked to vote, I don’t remember it. But, 80% of members voted to strike and I had joined the union to protect my interests, so I felt I had no choice but to go along with it. Also, if I wanted to continue working at my school and to enjoy a happy relationship with my fellow Teaching Assistants, then I had to be out for the day on Tuesday.

 

I drew the line at picketing. I don’t do confrontation. I can go one of two ways. Completely lose my rag and start ranting, which then leads me to abusive and insulting. Or, I start crying. I didn’t think either of these two qualities would enhance any picket line. So I went out for the day with Mike, to the Bull Ring in Birmingham and bought some fish.

 

The Bull Ring Market is one of the few places in the Midlands that you can buy real fish these days, other than supermarkets and they mostly sell farmed salmon.

 

What happened to all those lovely fishmongers we used to have? We had a wonderful Mac Fisheries in Stourbridge and I seem to remember Housewife’s Corner had a good selection too, before they decided to put the Ring Road through it.

 

Some of the Governors of the school came in to cover our duties on the strike day and that has not gone down well with some of the staff. One of the Teaching Assistants is a Governor and at the Goverors meeting on Wednesday night she berated the Parent Governors for undermining our action, there was a right Hoo Haa about it. The result being, I was snubbed by one of the Parent Governors on Friday morning and she is usually very friendly towards me. As I had nothing to say about them covering our duties, I felt it a bit unfair to be tarred with the same brush. I knew this strike would cause trouble, which I do not like one bit and I have a horrible feeling it will get worse, as the situation looks unlikely to be resolved.

 

I’m not looking forward to my son hearing about the strike when he returns from his tour of duty. He takes after his grandfather and great grandfather (who was Chairman and President of his local Conservative Club, for many years.) I can see I will be in for some name calling and a bit of friendly head slapping. Horrid child!

 

Catherine and Flo have moved into their new flat and have nearly finished installing the kitchen. I find it very odd that in Germany you don’t get a kitchen with your house or flat, you have to install one yourself and you take it with you when you move! Barmy if you ask me, that’s the whole point of moving house, isn’t it? Because the oven needs a damn good clean, you move to a new house with a cleaner oven!

 

One of my distant relatives wrote to me this week, to say how much she enjoyed the wedding photos. She is a lady I met through my family research. She lives in Ohio but came to England on a visit with her daughter. I met them and took them on a tour of where our shared ancestors lived and then a trip round The Black Country Museum, with a wonderful fish and chip lunch, cooked in an ancient range, in dripping. Mmmm!

 

Our shared Hadley family had a yeoman farmer, John Hadley, who made a fortune making and selling iron ramrods to the British Army, during the American War of Independence. With the money he made he rebuilt his farm, which was then called Ramrod Hall. What a wonderful name to have as your family ancestral pile. Sadly it was demolished before I was born andto date no photos have been found of the place.

 

This American 5th cousin had a bad start to the year. She had developed a worrying cough and they found she had cancer of the colon. They removed a three-pound tumour, which had been pressing up into her diaphragm, causing the cough.

 

She is having chemo but sounds very positive. She is such a lovely lady, so if you think about it, say a prayer for Sandra and that all goes well with her.

 

The wind is getting up and it's just started to rain, so it looks like the garden will have to wait again.

 

I seem to have managed to lose a pound in weight, not much but a step in the right direction, this picture below, fron D's Designs is how I see myself looking soon!!!!!!!

 

       

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Anthea Turner

Well, it’s been a hive of activity here at George Mansions today!

 

    

 

 Mike went off to do his Gardening Programme this morning, as usual for a Saturday.  I, despite suffering from a nasty cold, did something I haven’t done for two and a half years. Instead of spending the morning on the computer, I did ….. wait for it….. Housework. I mean proper housework. Moving things sort of housework and feather dustering.

 

I seem to have turned a blind eye to cleaning the house since I discovered the world of the Internet, as long as the Dyson has it’s daily five minute trip round the house and the furniture gets an occasional wipe down, I don’t care too much.

 

This lackadaisical attitude changed on Thursday night. Mike was out and I decided to watch a bit of telly. There was nothing on that I really wanted to see, so did a bit of channel hopping, through the Freeview channels.

 

I found myself watching Anthea Turner, as the Perfect Houswife. It’s a programme where Anthea tries to lick two slovenly housewives into Stepford Wives.

 

There were two reasons for watching this. One. Her ridiculous posturing and genuine horror at the mess these women lived in was very amusing. Two. I’m fascinated by the woman, as she married one of my ex boyfriends, Peter Powell.

 

That is a slight exaggeration, as we only once went out in a ‘romantic’ way but after that, I started going out with one of his close friends and Peter and I were good friends during that time. We had some great times in a caravan in Bournemouth and Peter’s parents’ holiday home in Aberdovey. I could tell you a very funny story about his nickname but I think I’d better not.........Anyway, I digress. 

 

What started as a bit of fun for me, soon became quite serious. The two hapless women, who had invited Anthea to publicly humiliate them, had  homes like mine!

 

I have places in my house, where if you dropped a sticky sweet, you certainly wouldn’t want to pop it in your mouth. I definitely have dust dollies under the dresser and most of my ceilings and pictures are draped, Hammer House of Horrors style, with spider’s webs.

 

I don’t like housework! Just because I was born female doesn’t mean that I’m good at it, or even have the slightest interest in it.

 

I started thinking of putting my name forward to be in the next series. Imagine the double look of horror when the stick thin, perfectly groomed Anthea, saw the horrors of my house and realised, this overweight woman had once been out with her ex. That perfect little nose would be wrinkling and crinkling with distaste. She’d probably need a Botox injection to sort it out.

 

I then realised if I did appear in the programme, my mother would never be able to walk down Hagley Village High Street again, so probably not a good idea. Although she has been known to go there with a carrier bag on her head, to prevent her hair getting wet but that’s not quite the same as having your daughter revealed as a slattern on the telly, is it?

 

The end result of watching Ms Turner is, although I am not now going to be a paragon of housewifely duties, I did feel sufficiently motivated to shift some dust and disturb a few spiders this morning. I’ll whisper this, as I don’t want everyone to know, I even cleaned round the edge of the hob………..with an old toothbrush. How enterprising is that?

 

Emily and Abigail are laying again, we’ve only had the occasional egg over the last few weeks, then on Thursday Emily laid a nice shiny brown one for us and yesterday Abigail gave us one of her special paint jobs, dark at one end and light at the other. I can always tell who has laid because Emily does nice smooth, shiny eggs and Abigail does rough ones, with a sandy sort of surface. (Ouch!) This morning there was one of each type, so Spring must be well and truly on the way.

 

Mike and I tidied up the front garden on Wednesday and planted a few extra plants. The bulbs are coming through now, I can’t remember how long it’s been since they were last this late, probably back in the 70’s.

          

I have three cards o the mantelpiece, waiting to be opened tomorrow. The first to arrive, as ever, was from my stepdaughter. She always sends cards out early, just in case. Then one came from Germany and yesterday one arrived with a London postmark, which will be from Simon, posted by his girlfriend, as he is still away at sea. I don’t get, or expect a card from my stepson, as our relationship is more of a   ‘going out and partying’   rather than a maternal one.

 

I keep sticking an Olbas Inhaler up my nose, in the vain hope that I might get to taste tonight’s dinner. Last night’s Moroccan Lamb could have been anything. I think tonight’s steak will be like chewing cardboard. Oh well, if I can’t taste it may help me lose weight.

 

As a result of last week's trip to Kempley, I have been able to make a big start on researching Mike's George family. I found they came from Taynton in Gloucestershire. I even found a photo of a farm that they had lived in. I'm really envious because all the farms my family had (and pubs) have been demolished, look at this for a little gem. Grrrr! she says through gritted teeth.

 

 

 

 

 

 

As you can see I have been taking lessons and playing around with a few things. Thanks to

 

www.cutecolors.com

 

 

 

 

My Husband Can Fly!!!

So off we went yesterday, Mike and I, plus, I decided to invite along my stepson Dave and his girlfriend Sam. I thought we could make a day of it, having lunch on the way, the flight and then stopping at Kempley in Gloucestershire  for the Daffodil Weekend, on the way home.

As we left the house there were feeble jokes about leaving the landing light on etc.

Mike was nervous and quite right too. During this flight, he had to take the controls and fly the thing.

Now I have had 20 odd (and I do mean ODD!) years of experiencing his driving, all the family have got used to the fact that when Mike is driving, the car does not take the direct line but likes to wander a little from side to side on the carriageway. This probably adds a mile of two to most journeys. His braking can be rather late, in a will we/won't we stop  kind of away, that can often enliven what might have been a tedious journey. And as for looking where he is going...why would he want to do that? When there is an interesting view to look at, or a dead badger on the side of the road.

We went to The Royal George at Birdlip for lunch, which was very good and then, as there was a bit of time to kill had a quick walk on Birdlip Hill. Actually, due to the strong, freezing cold wind, it was more of a 'get out of the car' rather than a walk.

We arrived at Staverton Airport and oh my, was it windy!

Mike went for his briefing and was warned it could be a little bumpy due to the wind. As it was a four seater plane, a Piper Warrior for those who know anything about planes, we were offered the opportunity of going along. No thank you very much! I flew two weeks ago and have to fly again in June, that is quite enough for me thanks. Sam was of the same opinion, why would you want to go in a plane, if it wasn't actually taking you somewhere you wanted to go?

Sam and I were both open mouthed when Dave said he would go. After all the teasing he had just given his Dad, we couldn't imagine why he would want to, especially as it had now been confirmed that it was going to be a bumpy flight.

I have a theory that it was the cost that made him go. At £6.00, it did seem like a bargain, I suppose.

So Sam and I watched them take off and then went to the cafe for a nice hot drink and a warm and a discussion of the benefits of the Life policies we had on them and were they covered for this type of a flight.

I have to admit they did seem to get buffetted a bit by the wind as they flew over us.

We saw the plane heading back into the airport about 30 minutes later and went to meet them. They were smiling, until Max went and then they both said how scared they had been. Dave said particularly when Mike had the controls and seemed to be putting it into a nose dive.

Still, they survived and I think a lot of it was an act, it may have been a bit scary but they still enjoyed the experience.

Mike's father's family come from Kempley in Gloucestershire, which is famous for it's wild daffodils. They have a weekend, where they invite the rest of the world to come and visit and do wonderful cakes and teas in the village hall. It's their only real opportunity to make money for the Church and the village hall.

Sadly, this year, due to the prolonged cold weather, the daffodils aren't quite ready yet but there were still a few visitors and we managed to see some that were open.

We introduced Dave to some Great Aunts and Uncles he had never met before and he and Sam really enjoyed themselves.

The 'New' church in the village is an adorable little Arts & Crafts gem and they had some displays of photos of old village residents.

We only recently found out who Mike's grandfather was. Mike's father was illegitimate and it was only after Mike's father's death that we heard the tale of who his father actually was. He was the son of the village blacksmith, who lived next door to Mike's granny. When she found out she was pregnant he did a runner and left the village.

One of the old photos was taken outside the forge and included Mrs Smallman, the mother of the boy, who did the dreadful deed and ran off. It was very interesting to see, as I could detect a certain likeness to Mike and his father. I wonder if we could sue the family for unpaid maintenance?

On the way back we stopped at the old church, which is now a good mile out of the village. Mike's granny is buried there, so we paid our respects and then made our way home.

Just a little way from the church I took the last photo in the set above, it shows the Fingerpost and Letterbox fields, where Fred West buried his first wife and an ex lover. It gives me the creeps to think how many times I went past there, while those poor women were lying in the ground, in view of the road.

Someone I worked with used to live in the area and she was quite friendly with Fred, he asked her out but her Dad said she couldn't go. So she sneaked out the back way from their farm to meet him up the road. Luckily one of the farm hands spotted her and told her Dad, who went after her and brought her back. A lucky escape, I think.

This reminds me of going to Mike's father's funeral, he was living in Devon at the time of his death and many of the Kempley/Much Marcle family that I hadn't met before turned up for his send off.

One of Mike's cousins arrived and the room went silent, he looked like Fred West's twin! Knowing how they all inter married in the two villages, I think I may not delve too deep into Mike's family history.

Today is the Day!

This is just a short entry this morning, as I expect to put another one on tomorrow, hopefully with some pictures of Mike's flight. This was one of those Red Letter Day presents, for his 60th Birthday last year.

It has taken a long time for him to take it because, as you may have heard, Red Letter Day went into receivership last year and it took ages for his sister to find the receipt and to get the thing validated. He finally booked it a month ago.

It's a shame for Mike, as this has been his best joke of the year. He tells people his mother knows he is scared of heights, so what did she buy him for his birthday? A flight in a light aircraft!! It always makes people laugh when he tells them but the truth is, he doesn't have a problem with flying.

He really does have a problem with heights though. I got left on my own on the Millenium Bridge, we had only just started to cross it, when he said see you on the other side and then just legged it, straight down the middle, knocking grannies and toddlers flying in his wake.

And how could I forget the trip up Worcester Cathedral Tower one Sunday morning. We had gone to meet the bell ringers, who ring from partway up the tower. We then continued to the top to hear them ringing. It was wonderful and the view was amazing. The problem was, Mike was only just starting to get his problem with heights and hadn't realised what effect the view was going to have on him BUT it was made a hundred times worse because they were ringing the bells. A full peal makes the top of the tower move by several inches. It really makes you wonder how the thing has stood up for so many centuries. The end result of the height, combined with the movement was Mike on his hands and knees crawling back to the safety of the stairs. I know this reflects very badly on us but our friends and I were hysterical with laughter.

You can see the view from the link below. Once you are there, you will find a link at the bottom of the page to an index of other panoramic views, you can have a look around the inside of our beautiful cathedral as well.

Worcester Cathedral

I'll be back later to let you know how we got on.

 

Catherine's Wedding.

 

Well, after a couple of hectic months planning and a day when the whole thing was off, Catherine and Flo finally got married.

As expected, my Mother made travelling a nightmare. I had booked the flights for all 11 of us and we were meeting up at East Midlands Airport, together with another 3 guests.

No one wanted to risk getting caught in traffic, so we all arrived at about 3.30pm and the check-in didn't open for our flight until 5pm. That wasn't a problem, time to relax, have food and drinks and catch up with family that we only see every few months.

My Mother had other ideas! "Lets go and check in now"

We can't do that Mum, we have to do it ourselves on those computers, it's very easy but they are still checking in the Prague flight, which goes before us" 

I got one of those, you don't know what you are talking about looks but I will go along with you ....for a while.

We had coffees and beers and snacks and it was now half past four.

Mum wants to go down to the check in area, so off we all trundle. Sure enough, that pesky computer is still only showing the Prague flight. But...says Mum, "we can check in now, it's only half an hour early, so it won't matter"

I explain that if it hasn't been put onto the computer yet, there is no way we can do it.

If she was a child I would say she was now becoming petulant. I am becoming red in the face, as she has been like a dripping tap for the last hour or more, going on about checking in. I am obviously such a fool that it is a wonder I have managed to do all these bookings and arrange assistance to and from the Aircraft. This is obviously what she is thinking and is expecting to find any minute that I haven't really booked anything at all.

I had to go and cool off and went outside for some fresh air, then I looked after Abi's baby, while she went out for a cigarette.

When I arrived back, the booking had just opened and Mum had made my sister deal with it, as I obviously can't be trusted. Well the luggage labels came out fine for all of us but it said it had printed the Boarding Passes, only it hadn't. She's sent Mike over to the Easijet desk, which was about 200 hundred yards away and there was a queue and my sister is jigging up and down on the spot, looking like she is about to wet herself.When Mum is getting into panic mode, it stops anyone within 20 feet from thinking clearly. Luckily I had been able to avoid the build up to this particular crisis, so still had a few brain cells firing. 

I spotted an Easijet employee a few feet away, looking into one of the other computer terminals. I told her we didn't have our Boarding Passes. She replied" Just tell them when you hand over your luggage, they will print them there for you"

Problem solved.

I won't tell you about the nonsense in the queue involving the wheelchair, a few stragglers from the Prague flight on a Stag weekend and my stepfather. They were no problem at all, it was just that they had the temerity to join the queue, in the middle of our party!! I think at that moment both my sister and I were seriously thinking of leaving her behind.

There were several other traumas but no problems at all.

We arrived in Cologne to snow. We drove to Bad Laasphe and there was more snow. It's a lovely little town partway up some mountains.

Prices were very reasonable, only 33 euros pp per night. That included breakfast, which was as much as you could eat and we had a lovely hotel room with a huge balcony. The cleanliness was amazing and the room was cleaned while we were eating breakfast. How they made the bathroom look like it had never ever been used in the time we were eating, I can't imagine. I could spend four hours on ours and it wouldn't be so clean, dry and smearfree! 

After breakfast I went with Catherine to arrange flowers on the tables at the Reception. At lunchtime we met Flo's mother and stepfather for the first time. They were both very pleasant and friendly.

The afternoon was spent getting ready and doing Catherine's hair, during which time it snowed and was still doing so on the walk round to the Rathaus. Typical Englishwoman, I had my brolly. Catherine and Flo went by car.

The words of the Registrar were all translated for us by Flo's Mum, who did a wonderful job and the advice given by the Registrar was the best 'sermon' I have ever heard at a wedding.

We walked to the Reception, as it was only a short distance. By now it was 6pm, still light but getting dusk and the lights were coming on around the town. It was truly magical.

The food was wonderful at the Reception, How they did it for the equivilant of £10 a head is a mystery. There was melon in Parma Ham, smoked salmon and other nibbley things for starters, bowls of salad, then hot food was:- Beef in tomato and herbs, fish in a mustard sauce, pork in a delicious sauce, spaghetti carbonara, spaghetti bolognese, a vegetarian pasta dish, potatoes au gratin, cauilflower au gratin and rice. Followed by Tiramasu or cherry ice cream. All of which was home made.

The plates were those large flat pizza plates and I have to say I filled mine!!! And ate it. No, not the plate!

Catherine looked beautiful, like a fairy princess and the snow just made the whole thing magical.

All too soon it was over. Catherine & Flo stayed in our hotel on their wedding night, so it was lovely to be able to have breakfast with them on Saturday morning. Then we all met up for coffee before the flight home. Except for Abi, that is, who was still drunk and threw up all day long. Thankfully they weren't flying back with us. 

Catherine went to see her doctor on Monday and had another scan, which confirmed she is carrying the girl she wanted.

Tuesday they flew to Venice and I think they will return today. She sent me a text in the week to say it was sunny and everything was OK.

I hope to have a month or two to catch up on my own life now, before I fly out again for the birth of my grandaughter.

If you would like to see some more photos, here is a link to a Wedding Blog I did.

 

http://journals.aol.co.uk/lindaggeorge/CatherineFlosWedding/

Strange Comes With Age?

I just had one of those moments where you clearly see yourself and realise that you may be slightly strange.

Mike just called upstairs to me that he had been surprised to find himself enthralled by the Curling on the Winter Olympics. Now if that isn't a barmy sport, I don't know what is. Sliding about on the ice following a polished rock, while your mates jiggle about with brushes in front of you. And we won a medal for it last time!

His comment made me think about what I was doing at that moment. I was gazing, enviously at the photo above, which is of some blue paving bricks found in Hamburg. The photo had just been emailed to me by a man I have been talking to in Germany. He found them twenty years ago, when they were digging up the pavement.

He put them in his daughter's pram, took them home and they have now gone through four house moves with him. He didn't say if his wife is still with him.

I have had a passion for blue bricks since I was a child, many of the pavements in The Black Country were paved with them. Proper blue bricks, as made by The Cakemore Brick Company, are tougher than granite and impervious to water. St Pancras Goods Station was buit with their bricks.

My interest in this particular Company is because Cakemore is where my Harper family farmed throughout the 19th Century, at the time these bricks were made.

I know it's odd but I would love to get my hands on one. But then, even odder surely to put half a dozen in your daughter's pram!

So it not just us Brits who have strange, quirky interests, obviously the Germans do too.

I have further proof of the strangeness of my daughter's chosen homeland.She and Flo were at a party at the weekend. Someone decided to take the shelves out of the fridge and attempt to fit themselves into it. They failed.

Flo, in his delightful German/American/English accent said " I cun du that." And in doing so he had to remove one shoe to enable the door to be shut. That produced great hilarity, bordering on hysteria, as his revealed sock was one of the pairs I bought him as a tree present at Christmas, black with florescent pink toes and heel. Obviously Germans don't understand Marks and Spencer style! 

Catherine said it would have been funnier if he had taken both shoes off, as his other sock was grey.

I'm very pleased to hear that Flo has a stong streak of the peculiar running through him, he should fit well into my family. With a Punk Rock Star father and my daughter as it's mother I am expecting new heights of quirkiness from their offspring. After all my daughter at the age of three took to wearing a Welsh ladies hat and rarely took it off for the next two years and then went into black and became a Goth at twelve.

Mike thought Flo wanted to get in the fridge to test the theory that the light really does go off when you shut the door, which apparently, it does.

We think we have everything sorted to get my mother and her zimmer frame to Germany for the wedding. Flo's stepfather decided to take us all one step nearer the wedding from Hell, by rupturing himself at the gym. He had an operation today. He thought, that as they said he would be in and out in one day, that meant he would be walking around tonight. Ha! Niave Bif. It's obviously the same in Germany as it is here, they have you out of the ward the moment you're concious. He's lying down feeling sorry for himself tonight.

We went to the gym today and I weighed myself. I've lost another six pounds!!!! And their scales have just been checked. I haven't been this weight for years! In fact I'm feeling so good about myself, I shall be on the lookout for a nice German toyboy next week and if he's wheeling a pram with some blue bricks in....so much the better.

I still haven't got over my mother in the hospital on Sunday, she had a couple of visitors I didn't know, as well as Wilf and the four bed room had several other visitors at the time. For a start she was on top of the bed in a fairly short nightie and kept crossing and uncrossing her legs, a la Sharon Stone. With half a leg in plaster and aged 77 this was not a good image. Then she was discussing what clothes she needed for travelling home and said she could dress herself, apart from putting her knickers on. She said, so Wilf will have to help me do that, which will make a change from him taking them off!

Well! ....I didn't know he wore her knickers anyway.

I'm hoping she behaves herself in Germany. I just know we won't get through it without one of them mentioning the war.

 

I'm Back!

I've had a bit of time off from Journal writing, as I felt it my entries were getting depressing, which was how I was feeling and as the last entry received no comments, I was obviously depressing everyone who read it. I made it Private, while I considered it's fate.

I feel a lot better now, which is just as well considering the week I've just had! More of that later.

Things that have happened since I last wrote.

My daughter had her second scan and was hoping to find out the sex of her baby. This child is obviously going to take after it's mother. Contrary. It turned it's back and refused to turn round again to reveal whether it was a boy of a girl. So we have to wait another two weeks to see if all is to be revealed.

My son went and had a little trip on his submarine, they were doing some tests. How considerate of The Royal Navy to arrange for him a short taster before they sent him away on his big trip.

 God, was that a worry. I was dreading the phone call when he got back, in case he was a mental wreck and couldn't bear the thought he was going back under for several weeks. Thankfully he said it was fine and although he knew the time would drag until he was home again, he was quite happy about it. Phew!!!

The wedding plans are going well and everyone that is going has booked their flight and a coach has been laid on at the German end. The Hotel is booked and flowers sorted. The Reception is to be in an old pub, which has a room upstairs that we are using, it has bits of old brewing equipment in it, so sounds interesting. The town they live in is Bad Laasphe, which is very rural according to my daughter.

My niece Emma has now left  sunny Wolverhampton and is on her 11 month tour of the world. She has started in Thailand and is writing a Blog, so if she can access mine, we can both keep up with what's happening.

My son's Ex girlfriend, no, not the nutter, another one, is also on her travels and is in Thailand at the moment but moves to Cambodia next week. She sent me the photos, shown here, yesterday. The wonders of the Internet! I think the first picture above is so beautiful, it looks like a photo from a travel magazine......Lucy, I never realised you were so artistic! 

My friend Catherine, who moved to Lyon just before Christmas tells me she has found herself a home now and I hope to visit her later in the year. I was a little concerned to hear they have found Bird Flu there. I read it is carried by migrating swans, so no snogging a swan Catherine!

This week has been half term and I really needed the break, as we had an OFSTED inspection just two weeks ago and that was stressful to say the least.

The week started with a visit to Mike's family. His Mum, who is 86 was looking well.

Wednesday we were being taken out to lunch by my Mum and stepfather Wilf. I'd only just got up when the phone rang. It was Wilf, to say Mum had fallen the night before, on her way out of a pub, for heavens sake, she's 77!. He insists she was sober and had only had a tomato juice. Hmmmmm!

Anyway, unlike the fall she had a couple of weeks earlier, when she JUST needed a couple of stitches in her forehead. This time she'd made a good job of it and broke her leg in 3 places. One of the fractures needed pinning, so she was having an operation the next day.

Can you imagine the distress this caused? Apart from the worry of her injuries, what about the wedding? Someone at the hospital told her she couldn't fly while she was in plaster.

I went to see her that afternoon and was relieved to see she was cheerful and only plastered  up to just below her knee. I came home with thoughts of driving her there. I checked the Eurotunnel and then the distance from Calais to Bad Laasphe its 350 miles, no more than when I drove up to see my son in Faslane last summer. And I did that with just two hours notice. I could surely do this drive when so much was at stake.

The next morning, panic mode had settled to reasoned thought. Why couldn't she fly. What happened to skiers when they broke their leg/legs. Did they all get left in The Alps for several months? I think not!

So I turned to my friend, the Internet, looked up the airlines website and found there was actually no difficulty with a lower leg plaster. As long as she was certified fit to fly. I have long thought my mother should be certified but that's another matter!

Last night came the good news. The doctor will sign her fit to fly to Germany, as it is a short flight. She was moving around well on a Zimmer frame yesterday and today she will get plastered again. They have even said that if she goes in the Tuesday before she flies, they will put a split cast on , which is bandaged together. Then if she has any problem with her leg swelling on the plane, we can remove it and put it back on later. No, not her leg, the plaster!!  

So, hopefully, all is sorted. 

I had a look at future son in laws website for his group this week and found they have now put a video on there of the tour they did in  England in November and there is a link here to the site. Go to Media and the link to the video is on that page.

http://www.acaseofgrenada.com/NEW/frameset.htm

If  anyone reading this is interested in Punk, of a German type (ie screamed, not sung) have a look. If you don't like the sound you can mute it and still have a look. Flo is the Lead Screamer, the one with black hair and a lovely smile and my daughter is the pretty blonde girl. They do look a little unkempt on some of the shots as they were living in the TourBus most of the time.

I think that brings my life up to date and will start doing my weekly Blog from now on.

If you visit, please leave a comment, as I have just taken that stupid counter off, it has just reset itself to zero again and I really can't be bothered to go through all the crap of resetting it again.So it would be nice to know if anyone stopped by.

It's a pity AOL can't be more bothered about sorting out these problems than they are with putting adverts onto the My Picture pages!!!