Sunday
Martin only left us on Friday but last Sunday felt rather like being in a time capsule. Getting up early to make those final preparations for today's three services took me back a few years. But now those preparations take three times longer, with injection, medication and a built in slowing down process, courtesy of Parkinson's.
I was prepared for a flurry of ' have you taken over from Martin?' questions to which my now spot answer is 'no, the churchwardens have, but I am helping where I can'. Perhaps churchwardens should wear a dog collar when undertaking onerous responsibilities in an interregnum!
I was prepared for a flurry of ' have you taken over from Martin?' questions to which my now spot answer is 'no, the churchwardens have, but I am helping where I can'. Perhaps churchwardens should wear a dog collar when undertaking onerous responsibilities in an interregnum!
News that St Andrew's made over £600 at the harvest auction was good news indeed, made possible by spendthrifts like me who bid £20 for a basket of fruit...or a cheese. In addition to that a collection of £200 will supply much needed seed to Africa. All this from a village which boasts a population of little more than 200.
Monday
Mondays would not be the same without the inevitable phone call from the lunch club in the village hall. This time the boiler had cut out and it was quickly fixed. Strange, when I worked, pleading ignorance of anything that looked like DIY, resulting in someone else doing the job. I suppose some might say moving so close to the village hall was divine intervention.
I am reading Bill Bryson's latest book 'The Road to Little Dribbling', a sequel to his hugely popular book 'Notes from a Small Island'. So far he has travelled from the south coast, London, Cambridge, East Anglia and Oxford and I have reached the point where he has arrived in Skegness. This seaside is well known to me, being the nearest one from Boston where we lived when our children were small. In its favour, it does have a good nature and bird reserve but, as for the town and promenade, well, give me Saltburn any day. However, it is, apparently, the 3rd largest seaside in the the country in terms of visitors. Most of then come by direct train from Nottingham and the Midlands.
Skegness' fame revolves around the trademark 'Jolly Fisherman'.
This was originally a railway poster designed by artist John Hassall in 1913 so it has stood the test of time.
Skegness was also the site of the first Butlin's holiday camp, which Bryson soon discovered was 4 miles outside Skegness.
Wednesday
Today has been a typical autumn day, with a clinging mist most of the day, prompting the leaves still on trees to hasten their descent to the ground. A walk to to the surgery for a flu jab and a trip to Barnard Castle Market exemplified the life of those of us in retirement, following which a nap was obligatory. Wednesday's house group again explored 'where do we go from here' but is still puzzling that one out.
Thursday
Funny, tragic and rivettding, Moira Buffini's play 'Handbaggibg' tells the story of what might have been said in the meetings between the Queen and Margaet Thacher, in the process she reminds usof some of the details of Thatcher's controversial premiershp. It is at The Theatre Royal Newcastle and we were at the matinee. The ending was especially poignant as HM recalled that her press secretary, Michael Shea had died of dementia. In the very last line of the play Thatcher says ' You don't die from dementia, you live with it' Very true of that and other long term illneses.
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