September 2010

The month was almost totally taken up with my obsession.  I spent days and evenings and nights planning the rooms, painting, wallpapering and assembling The House; and I loved every minute of it.  Even the garden has taken second place.  Ken and friends almost never made the list at all.  That said I did manage to go to dinner with the Langworthy Group on the 7th at Smiths; always good to catch up with them.


By the ninth I had assembled the house and the new obsession of how to fill it began.  I am still in its thrall.


One Sunday we gave Phil and Sue their usual lift to the airport and then drove to Stafford for a Dolls House Fair.  Do I not have the best bloke in the world?  (Poor Ken!)  Talk about kid in a sweet shop - thousands upon thousands of 'things'.


By the third week we had a trip planned to Sally in Edinburgh but she decided we'd be OK not to bother as we would be seeing her in November so we decided to go to visit Ken's Susan instead.

So on the 18th we found a great camp site for the caravan beside a lake (Llangorse).  We met her and a friend for a meal at a pretty good Thai restaurant which was very pleasant.  The next day she joined us for a visit to a not too great NGS garden.  The only redeeming feature was the ancient, charming and completely nutty owner who greeted us on arrival.  Check jacket, shirt and tie, flower in buttonhole, silk hanky from pocket - an 'upper crust' character cameo from a 1950's movie.  He told Ken he was 'a handsome chap' and kissed the ladies hands.  We weren't in the garden very long so we had a quick flit into Brecon to look round the end of a flower, veg and cake show and said our farewells to Susan for a while.  Our evening was spent in a very bizarre way writing our Christmas cards in a caravan by a lake in Wales.  We leave them in the UK for our friends to post.


We haven't been to a movie in ages - that said there hasn't been a movie worth going to!  We did get to see Winter's Bone  on the 22nd, which I heartily recommend.  If you can  get it on DVD give it a go.  I thought it was a truly original movie, fine acting and does many things for you - amongst which is making you count your blessings for the accidental geography of your birth and opening your eyes to other people's lives.  Not to mention a good story!


The last week of the month before we leave for the States is always a mad flurry for me in the garden.  Basically it is a case of putting the garden to bed far too early for a Northern clime like Bury.  I had tons of very successful tomatoes on the edge of ripening - loved and nurtured for six months to all end up in the bin.  Every year for three years I have sworn not to grow them and I can't resist.  I binned and pulled up and dug in glorious stuff - harvested and ate the last of my spuds and beans and dreaded the thought of American supermarkets and American food and no garden.


In a couple of days before leaving I managed to get my hair crucified into a dolls hair perm - no it wasn't intentional -  and see my friend Denise for the last time for a while.  Always a bad with a good in this life.


This is a note I wrote on the 29th September:


Last night Ken and I sat eating eggs on toast with pink champagne.  This wasn't one of our more crazy eat-up meals before jetting off to Naples - well the eggs were - but it was a thoughtful meal as we were wetting the baby's head (for the second time).

Our grand-daughter Lucy was born on Monday 27th September at 5.15 am Calgary time.  The champagne came out shortly after and, hence, we finished it with the paupers'tea the following day.


Our world has changed irrecoverably and in such a delightful way.


I know all grandparents claim their grandchild is just perfect but in this case (of course) it is true.  She was a bonny 7 lbs 12 ozs, in perfect health and without a blemish, not to mention exceedingly pretty.  She also looks as bright as a button as she is already curious about the great big world.


We will be visiting, along with Sally, in November.  It is very hard having your children living on the other side of the planet but I have now only just discovered that it is as hard to have a perfect tiny stranger living there too.


As you can imagine trying to sit down and prattle on about what we did in August and September seems very small beer against this event but I promise to do so in the next few days.  Right now isn't possible as my diary is packed amongst 50 lbs of other luggage (yes it is a big case as are the other three) and my memory has been shot for a long time.  


We leave on the 10.20 am plane tomorrow for Atlanta and on to Fort Myers and ultimately Naples.  This time we will be staying right through the six months and not taking a break over Christmas or New year which on this side of doing it seems a bit strange and somehow disconcerting - not logical, I know; but when was I ever that?  We have friends coming for a few weeks in January/February and I am hoping that Chris and Gayle and Lucy might come for some sunshine in February or March maybe. That would be lovely.


So for a wee while wish us Bon Voyage and this voice will be back with you soon.....

August 2010

I am doing this retrospectively of course.  It is 17th November and I am in Naples and a lot of water has passed under the bridge since summer in the UK.  Why bother?  Well, as I've said before, this is as much for me as anyone else who wants to read it.  I no longer keep any other diary or journal and so I like to look back at this now and again especially if I am wondering or arguing about (!) - when did we....?


So here we go for August...

Not a bad opening: we went to a private garden opening for charity.  Jefferson and Susan don't feel they are ready for the yellow book yet but want to share what they are doing with other gardeners.  It was the most remarkable garden.  We pitched up in a very ordinary looking seventies type estate found their house and went through to the garden.  This turned out to be a massive terraced landscape.  Pretty much an enormous hole in the earth surrounded by a few houses all sharing the unfriendly terrain.  They, of course, are making the most amazing garden.  I have already posted an album which really doesn't do it justice.  You had to experience the huge changes in levels and the garden on each level.  As we'd gone with our good chums Phil and Sue we naturally pitched up at a favourite watering hole for lunch afterwards.


Clearly we hadn't had enough of gardens as we set off for lunch the next day with the lady (Levinia) who had told us about the remarkable garden we'd just seen.


Sally arrived on her birthday (4th) for a brief visit.  It began with her and Ken sitting in the hairdressers with me for about two hours!  No kidding.  Being 'frugal' I've been using a new and cheap!!! hairdresser.  I arrived for my appointment - which I'd planned well in advance of Sally's arrival time - to be told she thought I was coming an hour later.  Eventually Ken got his hair cut and went to collect Sally from the Met. and arranged to pick me up on the way back.  They duly arrived and we left a couple of hours later.  Nothing like being truly British in circumstances like these.  Grit teeth, smile and say Thank You.


Ken's been helping a friend of his from way back when to use a computer so every so often Brian stops by for the next tutorial and I get lots of uninterrupted hours to play, which has turned out very well as you'll see later.  At this point I just went shopping with Sally!


Later in the week we took Sally over to Botony Bay for a mooch around.  Odd place; it seems to promise more than it delivers, which is probably a good thing as it meant I never spent a bean except on some wool to knit something for my expected grandchild.


On Sunday we were going to meet Pam and Ken at Wollerton Hall but Sally decided she wasn't bothered about going so we called it off and went to a garden I've wanted to see for a long time - Gresgarth Hall.  It belongs to Arabella Lennox Boyd (garden designer) and was an absolutely wonderful place - beautiful and so peaceful.


Sally left the next day.


On the 11th we met my little mate Denise for lunch at Holden Wood and a mooch round the antiques.  It is a really nice place to spend a couple of hours.


Middle of the month and Ken's birthday (14th) we had dinner at The Shoulder of Mutton for our usual seven group.  It was a lovely way to celebrate his birthday even if the dates were simply accidental.  We always seem to have a really nice time with them and the food at the Shoulder is to be recommended.


Our next NGS garden was Newton Hall on the 22nd.  I doubt I'll be able to post any photos from there.  I am often astonished as to how some gardens get into the NGS book.  This one was pretty much a waste of time.  Hardly any garden to speak of other than a sweet little veggie plot and one long border by a wall which was just about as uninteresting and ugly as you can get.  They did have a very grand open air heated swimming pool!  We compensated ourselves with a meal at The Frozen Mop.  Apparently my Northern companions (Ken, Phil, Sue) said it is a well-known eatery.  It was a nice place with an underwhelming lunch.


Now for the BIG event of August...

On the 26th we drove to the Dolls House Emporium at Ripley and I bought a Dolls House.  Yes, you have heard correctly.  I am surrounded by people who are making plans to lodge me at the home for the bewildered but I am staying my ground.  If you have the slightest interest click here Dolls House Emporium and take a look at Wentworth Court and its Burghley basement.  The picture here is actually my very own after I finished building it.   I am trying to collect and make items one step up from (children's) 'dolls house' but can't afford the miniaturist world I would really love to do, so I have set myself a bit of a task - to make the best I can on a tight budget.  I am absolutely loving it.  My only excuse it that there are a zillion other consenting adults out there doing the same.  As far back as I remember I have always wanted a dolls house and finally at 64 and a bit I decided to go for it.


As you can imagine every minute of the rest of the days of the month is totally taken up with 'the house'.

July 2010

We opened July with some Gilbert and Sullivan - the D'Oyle Carte variety, not the two chaps and a piano.  In all truth, I didn't think it was my cup of tea, but Ken (truly!) tootles around the place whistling selections from G & S and has a soft spot for them.  So, as a dutiful wife, along I went.  By now you've guessed where this is going.  I am now an avid fan... well.....  I enjoyed the evening.  The choir we saw is called The Square Street Singers.  Before the interval they did a selection of songs from various G & S comic operas.  Our proper treat for the evening was Trial By Jury but as it only lasts a little over half an hour, it was a two-parter.  All of it was excellent.  It always astounds me how much excellent amateur talent there is around.  We were talking to the grandmother of the two principal singers and she was telling us how they were students at the Royal Northern College of Music and have been performing since they were small children.  They were astoundingly good - who knows maybe we heard a future super star.


On a trip to an NGS garden (Trevinia) and lunch with friends a couple of days later I waylaid them and hauled them off to a local allotment.  For any gardening nuts amongst you your local allotment is the place to buy your potions and powders.  Bonemeal eighty pence a pound for example.  Also you get to have a bit of a nosey at what others are doing. Not so on that particular Sunday as we arrived as they were closing!  The NGS garden was a treat as usual and this one has gone on to feed us on Mondays.  The owner does lunch for charity every Monday.


Five days after G & S we were buffing up our cultural credentials by a trip to the professional theatre, courtesy of P & S.  We helped them 'spend' a wedding anniversary gift.  We are good like that.  Very kindly they took us to see Charley's Aunt.  I have seen it a zillion times along with The Importance of Being Earnest and have now managed to meld both plays together.... I spent a long time waiting for the 'A handbag!' speech.  I claim old age and decrepitude.  It was good to be back in The Royal Exchange again - almost my alma mater from when I was at University and saw everything for twopence on my student card.  I used to get some funny looks when I presented it as I was 39 years old at the time.


Sally arrived on the same day as this for a few days visit, which was lovely as always. We even managed to squeeze in an NGS garden in Stretford - Southlands.  As usual it was a surprisingly large and interesting garden at the back of a very ordinary house.  We did our usual loads of catching up and in a blink she decamped again.  I suffer from repeated empty nest syndrome.  Happily it only sets in briefly and I lose myself in the garden.


On the 13th July I became a great-aunt to the most beautiful of baby boys - Sebastian.  Like me, my sister's offspring have also fled far and wide, so I am sad to say it won't be a hands-on experience. In case you can find time (!) to read this J and K - very many congratulations again on producing such a lovely great-nephew.

The following day was a farewell rather than a hello.  The school I taught at for twelve years closed.  I had a bundle of mixed emotions going back there for the last time.  The upside being seeing the handful of really lovely people who made working there possible in all kinds of ways.  Like zillions of teachers the end of my working life there was horrendous and it is hard not to let it cloud the rest but I'm glad to say I did remember the good times too and realised I was grateful for having had the opportunity to teach late in my working life as I always would have wondered if it was what I was 'cut out to do'.  The downside being I would have probably loved it and been good at it had I done it age 21 (aka 1966).  I think I missed the hay-day-of-education boat.  Hey ho!  The meal with mates afterwards at a favourite eatery (Smiths in Eccles) made up for any down bits in the day. I do think it is brutally sad that Salford has chosen to demolish an imposing Victorian building with a huge amount of history attached to it - military hospital in the 14/18 war for instance.


More meals out with more chums followed.  I am beginning to think I really I ought to just leave that as an understood for all my updates as we do it one or more times a week.

On the 19th we hitched up the wagon and took a leisurely drive to Southampton for a caravan short break on the Isle of Wight.  Ken had spotted a good deal with Red Funnel and off we jolly well went. I have never seen myself as a caravanner.  I like to think I have avoided the matching Ken and Mal bobble hats and ubiquitous khaki shorts/waterproof trousers whatever the weather outfits and haven't cooked on a primus since I was nineteen.  I was brought firmly down  to earth however when we were passed en route by a state of the art caravan towed by an open-topped Jaguar containing a couple dressed for a weekend with Jack and Jackie in Hyannis Port.  I am now knitting the bobble hats with names.


Arriving in Southampton was a bit deja vu; we were in the same place as when we used to cross to France. We were booked on a 5 pm boat but arrived about 3.40 pm - no, they couldn't get us on the 4 pm as it was full - so park in Lane 2 (or whatever) .... next thing I know Ken is leaping on me in the shop saying ''Come on, we're on the four-o'-clock"... and so we were bundled on by the person loading the ferry - no booking-in, no ticket, no nothing.  So much for manifest, insurance et al. This was OK, except we had pre-paid for a couple of places we wanted to visit and would have picked up the entrance tickets when we booked in for the 5 pm boat.  After an hour's crossing and few minutes drive we were pitched up in a great camp-site.  We were plugged into mains water and drains and the site had indoor and outdoor swimming pools and showers and bathrooms to die for.  Not that we use them.  No, we don't smell, we use our own bathroom.

Our mini-break started the next morning with a trip to the Red Funnel office in East Cowes to pick up our entrance tickets.  I refuse to type the thousand words needed to describe how that went!  Finally our holiday began and we went to Osborne House. 'House' is perhaps a bit misleading as it is HUGE! and built to impress. Typically me, I actually enjoyed the Swiss cottage which was built for the children and all the information attached to that much more.  The gardens surrounding the house were also designed to impress. Fifty-one formal garden beds planted twice a year. Being my usual awkward self I much preferred the totally magical walled garden.  It was dripping with figs and gages and fruit and veg and flowers - all poly-culture and  excess and very, very pretty.  The initials of V and A were everywhere - in the structure of the arches, on the sides of the pots.  Masses of plants named  after her; not least of which were the monstrous mounds of Victoria rhubarb interspersed with the puny Prince Albert variety. Must admit Marvel's poem kept running through my head it was such a libidinous garden.

What wondrous life is this I lead!
Ripe apples drop about my head;
The luscious clusters of the vine
Upon my mouth do crush their wine;
The nectarine and curious peach
Into my hands themselves do reach;
Stumbling on melons as I pass,
Ensnared with flowers, I fall on grass. 

The next day we snatched at the ongoing good weather and dashed off to Carisbrooke Castle.  I particularly wanted to see the Princess Beatrice garden which was revamped in 2009 by Chris Beardshaw.  Even allowing for its lack of maturity it was still worth the visit.  An incredibly restful garden with some magical combination of plants, like this bronze fennel and grass.  The castle itself was very castley!  All ups and downs and rocks and a remaining chunk which was lived in during the summer by Princess Beatrice (Victoria's daughter). I think she was Governor of the Isle of Wight 1896-1944. I walked a lot of the battlements but chickened out at the worst part and retreated to a bench in the sunshine in the garden while Mr Intrepid completed the circuit.




After our picnic lunch off we went to The Needles.  It takes a lot to impress me and a couple of lumps of rock and some coloured sand doesn't do it.  Philistine, I know.  That said the bus ride to the Battery is worth making the trip for.  Hair raising.  Ken had a boy's happy hour looking around the Old Battery and the New Battery - both now defunct.  What was fascinating was that it was a top secret area between 1956 and 1971 for testing the Black Knight and Black Arrow space rockets prior to their going to Woomera for launching.  Britain's only satellite Prospero was developed there.  After which we quit because 'there wasn't really a useful future in it'. How the people who worked there didn't just get blown of the rock I don't know.  I had to tie my ears to my shoulders and huddle close to the walls and it was a very hot day in Summer.  We ended the day with a coastal drive to Ventnor.  Some good beaches along the way and pretty uncrowded when we were there.

Thursday came and we were off to (sixteenth century) Mottistone Manor.  Besides being a glorious NT house and garden it is still tenanted and consequently doesn't have that frozen in time feel about it.  It is full of surprises.  We began with a very 20th century garden near the entrance.  The NT has chosen Mottistone to experiment with Mediterranean style planting so this part of the garden is full of exotics like bananas and cannas and callas.  Part of the experiment is not to water any of the gardens other than the vegetables.  As they are gardening on a sandy soil from ironstone rocks I would think it a challenge. This new area is fascinatingly full of quirky plants but not my cup of tea. The gardens proper are more to my taste and are very pretty traditional English style planting, long borders and rose garden with a small vegetable garden nestled alongside.  The steps garden is just wonderful and quite original because of its structure.  There is the sweetest shack which was used by architects John Seely (2nd Lord Mottistone) and Paul Paget.  Kind of beats my B & Q summerhouse into the ground.  


On the way home we checked out the west coast and Brighstone Village - now this is a place in aspic.  Very pretty though.  What they have done which I thought was great was create a small museum attached to the NT shop (!) detailing the history of the village with all kinds of every day artefacts from folk.

Friday was given over to Ventnor Botanical Gardens and its environs.  It was one of those places which kind of disappointed and shouldn't have.  Free entrance was a joy but then we discovered you paid for parking.  Doubly annoying was having to decide how long you might want to stay. Happily we picked two hours on the basis we'd (Ken!) have to come back and top up if the place was huge and fascinating.  It is pretty big but not all that fascinating and we thought it looked a bit sad.  To be fair we were seeing it in drought conditions.  I did get the impression that if all the various gardening staff actually did some gardening rather than standing around in small groups nattering it might look a good deal better.  With about five minutes to spare on our parking time, and our tour over, it decided to rain so we made a quick dash to the car  (and then it bucketed down) to eat our picnic. There are days when somebody up there loves you. Back to the camp site via a tour of the East Coast.  I think Shanklin and Bembridge get my vote for places worth going back to for a closer look. Bembridge had wonderful boats marooned on a mud-bank, all converted into beautiful houses.


Saturday and we were back on the ferry retreating to the mainland and on to a visit to Ken's son and his wife in Winnersh.  Sunday and we upped sticks for Cheltenham and a trip to Chedworth Roman Villa with Pam, Ken and Ben (my only other great-nephew). It was baking hot, as it had been for our whole holiday (not so back up North where it is grim!).  We had the usual wonderful meal at my sisters and back to our bed in the 'van and the next day back to Bury (after a quick spend at her brilliant local nursery  nearby).  The rain started when we reached Birmingham and hasn't really stopped since. (A week later!)


There was one more of those meals with friends to mark the last day of the month - such things as the 31st July always needs celebrating/noting/marking in such a way don't you think?


Don't forget to go to my photos to look at all the places I've nattered on about.  Talk to you again at the end of August.

June 2010

This is my new baby - a tree peony - Kamata nishiki.  It was described as being pink/lavender; looks rather purple to me.  Hey ho, it's beautiful anyway so it stays.


OK - Last month (June) was pretty much like all the others since we got back to the UK on April 1st.  Garden, garden, garden.  I was either enjoying sitting in it or working in it.  The Summer is being kind to us it seems and the garden is flourishing this year.  Right now it is probably looking its very best and has fluffed out nicely.  I'll post some photos in the usual place to give you a flavour of it. (see side bar for link)

As always we've had good meals out with friends and have made a couple of visits to our local teeny theatre in Ramsbottom which is home to various amateur Thespians and choristers.

On the 10th we went to see Hello Dolly which was brilliant.  I was surprised to realise I'd never actually seen the show/movie and couldn't think of any song from it except the title one. The cast were excellent - costumes and staging a triumph and, yes, the show does have other songs worth humming on the way home.  Well done, those chaps.


We decided mid month that being official busy bodies in Naples (we help and keep an eye on (!) the condo association) we should stick our oar in here too.  We have a Residents' Association for our area which has been up and running for thirty odd years.  Husband number one and I used to be the editor part of it around that time and one of my work friends was one of its founders, so I feel a bit of an affinity to it.  Is that possible?  Any way we responded to their appeal for help and duly ended up collecting membership fees.  Don't kid yourself this is a doddle.  Here we are at week three of the chore still doing battle to scrape up the last few.  People in and ignoring the doorbell is the most annoying.  That said a reluctant woman opened the door and after a brief chat said she had hesitated because we looked like Jehovah's Witnesses.  My wardrobe needs a serious overhaul.


Whilst on the tribulations of doing battle with personal appearance I tried a new hairdresser this month in the usual desperate attempt attempt to find someone who can follow simple instructions.  Truth be told it was also half the price of the regular one who butchers me every six weeks.  Off I toddle.  Ken was in tow as he was also getting sheared. I spent the best part of an hour in a chair with a dippy woman who twittered and listened and twittered and fussed and twittered and managed to do exactly as she liked.  When finished, the insult she finally added to serious injury was her saying, "You know, you were right about your hair and how it grows".  Funny thing is this came as no surprise to me as I've lived underneath it for sixty-four years.  I mentioned Ken earlier because, on the way home, he was daft enough to say, ''I can't see how there could be a problem; you spent enough time talking about it and explaining what you wanted"


My other old person complaint this month is the usual one about doctors.  I have the beginning of Dupytrens contracture, so in about six years I will look like Captain Hook. When I got my GP to confirm it in April I was told to 'come back in five or six years when your fingers have hooked and we''ll arrange to do the surgery'.  Back home and a dash to the computer.  Surgery is totally not necessary... if you go before the curve starts you can get it cured by Radiography.  It has been done in France for many years and is now done in large numbers across mainland Europe.  It has a 90% long term success rate.  The surgery version has something like 60% of patients returning in five or six years to have it done again.  The other 40% have probably kicked the bucket as it is found mostly in men over sixty and women over 80. Trust me!


So, the story continues... back to the GP in May with this information and more.  She'd never heard of it and the only place I (talk about do-it-yourself) could find in the UK who did it was in Poole in Dorset.  "Leave it with me for a month", she says.


Back again - Dupytrens and Naples clock ticking - she says, ''Good news, North Manchester do it.  Shall I make you an appointment?''


Skipping with joy I left the surgery and a mere six weeks later Ken and I fetched up at North Manchester General Hospital.  What a grotty place.  There's absolutely NOWHERE to park.  When we finally got into the clinic it looked like a peasant market from the fifteenth century - heaving with people all of whom must have had a 10.15 am appointment.  We waited until they had all been seen!  I went in last.  Never mind, hold on to the positive - someone is going to do an easy fix on your hand.

The Registrar looks at my hand and begins to babble about - early stages and I need to come back in a few years time and they'll operate - I say something on the lines of - Excuse me, if I could just interrupt, there seems to be a misunderstanding?  You'd think I'd sworn in church - how dare I actually interrupt and have the temerity to suggest he'd misunderstood.  After my explaining why I thought I was there.  He told me, or rather lectured me, about how the NHS doesn't do do 'experimental treatments with no proof of efficacy' (84,000 done in one year in Germany alone with a 90% success rate after ten years!!!!!!! and done all over mainland Europe and America).

......  yabba yabba yabba, debate, we argue, I leave!

I returned home to email the hospital in Poole in Dorset - Dr Goode had retired with ill health in 2009 so the treatments are suspended indefinitely!!!

I spent many hours trawling the web and located the one and only other place doing this, which is in Wimbledon.  So far, I haven't had a lot of success on contacting them as no-one responds to emails.

I'll tell you the rest of this, no doubt, in my July catch up when it is done.

June closes on another medical tweak.  After a two year search/wait to find an NHS dentist in our area I managed to get one a mile or so away and am now officially allowed to smile with my scaled and polished gnashers. Hurrah!


The big joke here is I had several conversations with our American friends last winter saying how wonderful the NHS is and they had nothing to fear if Obama's changes really were heading that way.  Mmmm!