Baby musician plays guitar

Youngest grand child is such a happy child, secure in a loving family with confident and content siblings. Here's a video of her listening to her musician uncle as he experiments with my old guitar.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0es8YNkuvNM

What's amazing is that such a young child can sit and concentrate for so long when so many children even years older than her cannot. It must be something to do with her ease, her comfort, her health, her security in her family.

Family video

Oldest granddaughter went around with the flip video and took this:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-CNtqbMa0ok

Surveyors

SD#2 is training to be a surveyor. She's already a qualified engineer but architecture and buildings fascinate her. So she arrived for Christmas and noticed the roof of our laundry house, which her father had retiled a few years ago. See the photo. She's never seen one like that before. She says that the tiles are supposed to be in two layers so that they overlap, but that it's probably okay on a laundry house. Her father points out that it means 40% fewer tiles, so is economical.

Economical might be what surveyors are in some cases. Our surveyor for this house missed a few small things, death watch beetle being one of them. Getting a couple of special surveys done to check what to do about the DWB and then fixing the problem cost us a big £five figure sum, which added considerably to the cost of the original economical-in-facts survey. SD#3 says that surveyors are corrupt, and they get bribes from people who want planning permission - I might believe her. Surveyors must have connived at the estate agents' suggested prices and the banks who gave mortgages. Estate agents get a bigger fee if the house price is higher. Mortgage givers will make more money if they lend for a bigger mortgage. Surveyors might have put some brakes on the house spiral, but didn't.

End-of-rant

Organist plays mandolin

We have an old mandolin that my mother-in-law gave me. It is decorated with ribbons that have German on them, so I wondered where it came from. During Christmas son-in-law, who's a professional musician and an organist picked it up, tuned it and started playing it. So I asked MiL where it came from.

Before the war, Rudi Hieak came over from Austria with it. He had been in the Vienna Boys Choir, and was a tenor singer in London, living up the road from MiL in Reigate Hill, and later moving down to Devon. When he died, about three years ago his widow gave it to MiL.

SiL has a musical sense of humour, not malicious, but fun, so for example, if you know what he's doing you might hear that rather than playing some solemn church music he's playing a some frivolous piece disguised underneath. Late husband had a school friend with the same clever sense of musical humour. Once at school, he tuned the school piano so that every seventh note was half a tone flat, then waited for assembly. Those who were tone deaf couldn't understand the laughter of those around them.

Visitors gone

House is quiet, quietish, again. SD#2 and husband have left for her in-laws, and Chinese Post grad has returned home to write up her first draft of her thesis. Having her to stay was fun. Daughter enjoyed her company, like having a big sister. SD #3 felt important and appreciated and helpful because she made up CPg's Christmas stocking and possibly SD#2 & SD#3 were slightly better behaved because of CPg's presence. And CPg knew who I was talking about if I mentioned people from work, and that was nice.

Daughter and I and CPg went shopping, and daughter had to slow down, not run, because CPg's heels made her wobble. Even SD#2's husband noticed her amazing stiletto heels - ever so high - see the photo.

Christmas day

Ten o'clock in the morning. All is calm. Husband and I have prepared the sprouts, he has prepared the goose which is now sitting in the oven waiting to cook. Son, daughter and visitor are still asleep. Son and daughter went to midnight mass, but although visitor & I meant to go, we were both so sleepy that we backed out, I literally at the front door with my coat on and yawning.

Visitor is a Chinese girl, a fellow PhD student who is desperately trying to start writing up her research. She's collected thirty interviews, transcribed them and then translated them but she's running late so working over the Christmas break when the university is closed. We've done her a stocking - or rather SD#3 mugged her dad for money and went and got stuff for her, like bouncing putty, a tiny flower press, a red scarf, some highlighter pens - useful for study work. I found her a head girl badge and added the traditional chocolate coins, apple and satsuma (why can't I find satsumas? I had to use a tangerine!)

SD#3 has spent the night over at her sister and husband's. She went to carol service with them and held the notes on the organ - she rang at 8 o'clock this morning to tell her dad not to get frazzled and that they were coming to see him not eat his food. I think he might be frazzled at such an early phone call!

How to make Xmas pud

Husband was stirring the Christmas pudding today. I took a video. See

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Dw6Ozk5IUnM
and later I'll work out and remember how to make this a direct link.

Diabetic pains

Grumpy husband grunts as he tries to get his b* insulin sorted out.

• He doesn't get enough blood out of his thumb for the test strip
• The test strip won't sit well so as to leave a visible hole on the meter
• He can't get the blood on the pad

There's not a enough blood anyhow, so the test doesn't work, that strip is wasted and he has to start again! And he's hungry too and now has to wait longer till he can eat until he's sorted out how much insulin he needs.

Grr!

Sadistic subum

The Subum (means teacher) at tae kwondo was a bit grumpy tonight. As people arrived a tad late he stopped the warm up jog and made us do press-ups until the new-comers were ready. He wanted to do pad work but not enough of us had pads - these pads aren't cheap, so a family of four tends to have only one pair between them all. So he decided to do the tae kwondo twelve days of Christmas instead, with an evil scowl on his face.

1. burpy
2. squat thrusts
3. punches
4. star jumps working with a partner to clap as we jumped
5. front kicks
6. press ups
7. sit ups
8. side kicks
9. double punches (means 18)
10. jumping kicks
11. some other kick
    
12. some other exercise - does Subum think we're still moving?
    

He tells us this all adds up to 365 exercises, and so one for each day of the year, but I think it's 362 - how nice not to have to do three more. It's
1 * 12 twice, plus
2 * 11 twice, plus
3 * 10 twice, plus
4 * 9 twice, plus
5 * 8 twice, plus
6 * 7 twice
-----------
which is 24 + 44 + 60+ 72+ 80+ 82 = 362
Don't tell subum, or he' ll think up some evil excuse to make us to three more.

Christmas preparation

Christmas preparations include getting the pudding ready. I was going to put a short video here, but I haven't yet got the technology right to show it.

I've been wrapping presents for the surprise parcel - half a dozen for one nephew and half a dozen for the other. They get to unwrap them at their parents' leisure, not on Xmas day. Aunty P used to do this for us, and we'd unwrap them on Christmas Eve, that quiet wet dull day when school has finished, but you can't have your presents yet. She would find, wrap and send to all four of us - and she also had to deal with her own five children - what a lot of work! She used to send me pencils with my name on - really useful, and an Enid Blyton diary - fab! (means cool in today's lingo)

Mummy's recipes

Every now and again, a step daughter rings up asking for a recipe out of their mother's red recipe box. Daddy reads it out over the phone. He suggested putting them on our family web site but step daughter #3 prefers to listen, not to read them. So I have put them on the web site, but they are sound files. I got their father to read them out and I recorded them. There's only a couple up there so far, but I'll put up more as they're requested.

To listen to these files you need dss software, which you can download from here. If the link doesn't work, you are looking software for an Olympus DM-10 audio recorder.

And to find the family web site, you need to google for two of our surnames.

Belly dancing

This is Waly Waly, the dance that our teacher, Shiraz, has been teaching us and thinks we can all do. Ha!


I'm not going to publish this, although our teacher's happy about me taking the video. I don't have her written permission, and more important I don't know the copy restrictions on the music that she's dancing to. It's a pity because I'd like to have somewhere to watch and learn what she's doing and my home computer's not fast enough to display it. And I've not got the space left on the default drive where the software insists on keeping .

Privacy and caring

Daughter is becoming more and more protective of her privacy. She'd have enjoyed learning from the British Computer Society (BCS) Xmas lecture yesterday at Oxford, where Kieron O'Hara spoke on "The Spy in the Coffee Machine". Yes - a machine that notes how often you use it and lets someone know. It's been developed in Japan, where older people drink a lot of miso soup and green tea during the day. If they don't use the machine, then perhaps they're not eating and drinking, and there's something wrong, so the person who receives the information from the machine can go and check on their parent or aged relative.

So it's not really a coffee machine, but same idea. And I guess if no one reads or cares about the information, the aged person will be just as uncared for anyhow. I'm feeling peeved that BT isn't caring for my aged relatives - it won't connect them back to their phone line that AOL have disconnected them from, and that was at the beginning of November. So I can't phone them, or email them and they can't read this. All they've got are mobile phones - and with older eyesight and wobbly fingers, mobile phones are not very accessible devices.

I've put O'Hara's book on my wish list, but perhaps I should get it for my daughter.

Business enabling technology

"The business enabling technology people have disabled some of my technology and I'm p*d off with it"

growled my chivalrous husband, dropping me off for work this morning. I don't think he was looking forward to his working day.

Digital chivalry at home

Chivalrous - that's what my husband is, For example, he will walk on the outside of the pavement expecting the lady to walk on the inside. He will also offer to take care of my computer. I can do this myself, being technically sufficiently able and confident that I'll eventually get it right and sorted. But I'm happy to allow him and will encourage him to look after it for me as it delegates my technical chores. In fact, he's promised to put a new mother board in for me.

Does our joint behaviour encourage my learned helpless? Or does it reinforce gender stereotypes? Or is it an exercise in power?

Jennifer Rode researched gender stereotypes in programming and who manages digital security in the home. She came up with the term "digital chivalry". It may be a contentious term but it tells a nice story that means something to many listeners and I can identify with.

Cryptic clues

Husband has a tendency to cryptic remarks, or perhaps just doesn't talk. Put another way, sometimes we don't understand each other and we don't talk enough. One of way of remedying this is to travel together to work. So we sit in the car together for forty five minutes each morning and each evening. We might still not talk. Possibly because I'm quietly doing the sudoku while he drives.

Then I had this brilliant idea. Instead of the sudoku I open the paper at the crossword page. I cannot understand these cryptic clues bu he gaily romps through them. So I tell him the clues, and he thinks through them as we drive, occasionally talking in order to tell me how they work.

And we get communication!

Council meeting

I've not been to a county council meeting before, but this one was walking distance, so I thought I'd go for an hour or two. It's in the Crown Courts, so I arrive at the front door. Being the courts, there's a guard at the door, ready to scan visitors.

"What can I do for you, Ma'am?"

"There's a public meeting here today" I say, expecting to be scanned and allowed in, but he sends me round the back. I go round with another chap who explains that he's going to present. We find a small man in a security jacket who asks if we are councillors and we explain ourselves. I'm a member of the public so he tells me to go round the front, but I protest that I've been sent round here, so he relents and shows me in with the presenting chap. Half way up the back stairs, we can see the guard at the front so small man in security jacket shouts down to him:

"Bert! Let the public in that way!"
"What?"
"Let the members of the public in!"

Guard protests he doesn't know who's public and who's councillor so SMiSJ promises to come and talk to him in a minute.

The meeting is in court number 2. I'm in a balcony with a lovely wood balustrade (apart from a bit of graffiti carved into it). Below I can see the judge's seat where the chair of the meeting is already sitting. Paper rustles. Members take their places, but I don't know who is sitting where as there's no name plan and the slope on their desks along with the mass of papers they have means there's nowhere to put a name card. I can see the CEO, Chris Williams, sitting at the centre of a green felt covered table and assume the people round him are council officers, not councillors. There are some young men and women on side benches - I can't think they are councillors - perhaps they're journalists. There aren't any other members of the public.

The chap in the central and high up judge's chair calls the meeting to order, but doesn't introduce himself and I don't know his name.

I recognise one of our local councillors, Mary Baldwin. She presents a petition for a 20 mile per hour limit in Aylesbury Old Town. She speaks clearly and to the point. Cheers! The petition is passed to the CEO. Two more bring petitions though they don't speak as clearly as Mary. Mary's was the only petition the Chair was expecting.

Then Mr Macalister-Smith stands up to speak on the Buckinghamshire Primary Care Trust's five year strategy. He's stuck with a Powerpoint presentation and no equipment. I hope he's a good speaker, but I'm happy not to see bullet pointed slides. All the councillors have copies of the slides on handouts.

He talks about the context: good health in Bucks but the NHS has a low financial allocation more than 18% below national level funding, so the financial situation here is difficult.
So in order to add life to years and years to life (i.e. add quality) the PCT wants consistent local area agreements investing in clinical leadership. He concludes they need to manage their money, put leadership in place, including supporting emerging clinical leaders, and working with local government is key to their success.

Question time

The councillors argue about who is the first to ask questions. There is such a "forest of hands" that the Chair complains he can't tell who put their hand up first. Questions include

• Mrs Manon on polyclinics and people's fear of them (I can't always hear the name of the speaker nor the question)
• Mr Colesten - cabinet member for adult social care comments that the revolving door of people in the PCT hinders. Mr Macalister-Smith says something about building a sustainable team (first time I've had the term 'sustainable' in that context)
• Mrs Baldwin asks first if the super surgeries are the same as polyclinics and secondly what investment is going to be be made, that is what is the PCT doing to target areas of deprivation.
• someone asks about dental problems
• there's a question on transport and on access from rural areas

Things are degrading; there are discontentful murmurings that people who've been waiting can't ask a question. Chair says he'll take two more questions then takes only one from someone who mumbles something about Chalfont St Peter but it doesn't seem to be a question. The chair then rabbits on.

"It's unfair, so unfair!"

grumbles Mary Baldwin, sotte voce.

Mr Appleyard raises a point of order to request that this one last person be allowed to ask a question and the chamber agrees with sounds of assent. The Chair grumbles:

"Is it a brief one?"
"It's briefer than your preamble, Chairman."

The question is about purchasing block beds but Mr Macalister-Smith can't answer it.

Question time must finish. Mr Macalister-Smith is praised for his presentation, which must be difficult in front of so many knowledgeable people. In turn, he courteously thanks the chair, suggesting that his job is difficult, and mentions that he hadn't realised it was the first time he'd chaired the meeting here.

I stayed only a few more minutes, just enough to hear that the cabinet member for transport supported the petition to lower the limit in the town centre.

I might go again - the PCT information was useful and relevant. The councillors' behaviour was amusing.

Long term

I've been away for work, not far and only for three days, but it makes a nice change. I'm loving it.

Husband texted me morning greetings.
Son rang home and then me.
Daughter rang home.

So I rang them.

Both children (children still?) are low. There's a lot of work, little time, people to cope with and daughter is off colour with a headache. Headache slows down writing the 300 word French essay. Fortunately, it's nice to know that step daughter #3 is feeling smug about understanding a lecture on structural analysis.

It's nearly the end of term, and I fetch one home in ten days, the other the next week and SD #3 will be back for Christmas.

Busy

I'm away for work, with little time even for lunch. But it's nice to have the break, especially with a view like this.

Bath and Bristol

We visited the Bath spa on Friday night, meaning to buy a twilight session, but they were all booked up. So we had a shorter session and more expensive package and it was still good - especially the steam rooms with different aromas and heats and foot baths.

We ate Sally Lunn Bath buns for tea, which are something amazing - huge as a tea plate, but light as a fairy cake, and delicious with cinnamon butter - I'm glad we found that café.

We made a quick wander round the Roman Baths yesterday morning before visiting daughter. So I need to come back because there wasn't time to see everything.

Daughter's fine physically, intellectually, academically and socially - I think. She grumbled mildly about hall food and ate a splendid meal with us in a fish restaurant. We talked lots, and then husband drove us into the city where we explored shops like the new precinct, and bought a piece of jewellery that she'd seen. Husband showed us some of his old haunts so daughter knows even more shops to explore in the years that she is there.

Long weekend

Off to Bath for a long weekend and a day trip to Bristol to see daughter

Birthday

It's a bit quiet now all the children have gone. I toodled off to tae kwondo and pleaded birthday as an excuse for doing fewer press ups. The instruction was to do ten press ups but five if you were under 14. It is not wise to draw attention to yourself at tae kwondo as the subum is inclined to give you as many press ups as you are old. However, this was not the usual subum, but one who just told everyone it was my birthday and to give me a clap!

"Choosing chocolates" I mused on my Facebook status, which drew "Eeny meeny miny mo! Happy Birthday" from SD#2

Test of Intelligence and observation

You will be allowed five minutes to complete this paper. Mark your answers in the space preceding each item number. Work as quickly as you can.

1. Do they have a fifth of November in America?
2. Some months have thirty days; some have thirty-one, how many months have twenty-eight days?
3. If you had only one match and entered a dark room where there was an oil lamp, oil heater and some kindling wood which would you light first?
4. If a doctor gave you three pills and told you to take one every half hour, how long would they last?
5. A man builds a house with four sides, a rectangular structure each having a southern exposure. A bear comes wandering by. What colour is the bear?
6. A farmer has seventeen sheep. All but nine die. How many did he have left?
7. Divide thirty by a half. Add ten. What is the answer?
8. Take two apples from three apples. What do you have?
9. How many animals of each species did Moses take on the Ark?
10. If you drove a bus with forty-two people on it from London and stopped at Watford to pick up seven more and drop off five passengers and at Luton you dropped off eight and picked up four and arrive at Edinburgh twenty hours later, what is the driver's name?

That is what the 11+ test questions seemed like to me - and the requirement to be quick still makes me panic, so I can't read them properly. But even worse, now so often there are multiple choice answers, which confuse me even more. Yeuch.

Do you want the answers?

Six characters

What's real? What's reality?

That's the problem at the heart of Pirandello's play "Six Characters in search of an Author", which husband and I saw today at the Gielgud Theatre. It's a fascinating update on Pirendello's early twentieth century production. Apparently, he never finished fiddling with this play - no wonder I couldn't remember the ending - but he considered turning it into a film or a novel.

The six characters have developed a life of their own, in the way that a writer finds he doesn't (or she) always know what is going to come out of the pen - the story develops by itself sometimes. These six characters have a story that they insist on telling. But this is a play within a play, for the six characters interrupt a rehearsal - in the Gielgud, a film rehearsal for a documentary on assisted suicide.

Each of the six characters wants to give his or her version of the reality that happened to them, in their life. Each has a different take on their lives together. Each constructs the same story according his/her own perception and personality.

• The Father - guilt ridden
• The Step-daughter - haughty, sexy
• The Mother - distraught, weak and weepy
• The Son - arrogant, distant
• The silent Girl and Boy - why are they silent?

Then the actors attempt to reconstruct their story, putting a different angle to it. And here is yet another production of this play, with a different take from the one that Pirandello first produced:

• Madame Pace becomes a pimp,
  
• it's a documentary being filmed rather than a rehearsal of a Pirandello play,
• there's a scene where Pirandello discusses problems of this play, in Italian
• The Mother sings as if in an Opera
  

Why am I so interested?

Because we studied the play in depth when I was at college. I played the Mother. And because the problem of reality still haunts me; it comes up in the way I approach and write up my research.

Son's blog

Son has started a blog, and started coxing, so his first posting is on that, unless he's procrastinated it.

Thirty years ago today

Thirty years ago today, I saw my Aunty and Uncle - the uncle who died earlier this year. It's their wedding anniversary today and this is the first one she'll have without him. I tried to find a photo of them together that day, but can't, so here is one of my parents that day instead.

Trains & grandchildren

Husband & I took two grandchildren over to Didcot railway centre. They're really happy in the car, don't get sick & don't squabble. They sang:

Tic tac toe
Give me high, give me low.
Give me three in a row.
Danny got shot by a UFO

(then you have to do rock-paper-scissors but you don't say anything)

Snaky creepy crawly up your back.
What letter is that?
You lose, get a bruise!

While husband/gran'pa took photos of engines, we explored a newly opened air-raid shelter, then went on the exhibition coach for lots of hands-on experimentation with steam, coal and oxygen.

The photo is of leaves on the line's gravel.

Blogging

The Today programme on radio 4 today had a discussion suggesting that blogging was passé & dying and that the cool thing to do now was twitter.

Twitter! No. Twittering isn't an alternative to blogging - it's different for different purposes. Blogging is for writing, and twittering is for - just that - twittering - nothing special while you faff about and say in a hundred words what you're faffing about it. Twittering is what an excited flock of stupid birds does. Suggesting twittering could replace blogging is like suggesting using a bicycle instead of a car.

Bah! Humbug!

Surprise walk

My posting on the planned walk to see a white horse was a trick.

I told husband I wanted to see a white horse, and I pointed at Ashbury. He then 'planned' the day including lunch at a local pub. However, he wanted to start walking at 10 o'clock, and I wanted to start at 11. I had to slow him down. SoI

• lay in late
• showered
• remembered I'd forgotten my mobile phone.
• asked to stop in Stanford-in-the-Vale to look for the grave stones of distant relatives
• complained about the bumpy roads
  
• burped as if about to be sick
• asked for the loo.

But we still got to the empty car park before eleven o'clock.

Then step daughter #3 turned up. She beamed and announced that she thought she'd like a walk. We slowly put our boots on to delay a little longer. Step-daughter #1 with her husband and three children arrived too.

"Happy Birthday, Daddy!" "Hello Granpa!"

Step-daughter #3 & partner arrived next. And finally step son with his wife and two children.

Then he realised that he'd been set up and all the family were arriving to walk with him, and someone else had booked the pub for the 16 of us.

They all had their stories. One had started early then had to go back to fetch something for a niece; one had left Loughborough at 8 o'clock but had gone round every which way.

Husband thought that he was setting up the day, but actually it was his four children who were setting it up to give him a belated birthday surprise. The idea was to get him to the car park at Ashbury for 11 o'clock so they'd all be there to greet him, and it was my job to get him there.

Between them all they'd planned and organised a lovely day for their dad. He was surprised and pleased by his lovely four children.

Where's a white horse?

One afternoon in 1990 I walked a bit of the Ridgeway with 3 friends. I'd love to go again.

Husband is planning to take me walking the Ridgeway and Ashbury to see a white horse on Sunday. He says that he's found a nice pub to go to too, for lunch. It sounds good, except that he wants to be at Ashbury for 10 o'clock, and that's a tad early for me.

We'll have a discussion.

When did our house get built?

Followed husband round Swanbourne with the archeology society. Discovered that houses in the 17th century got built with a lobby front door. This means that the chimney was right behind the draft-preventing lobby round the front door, and divided the house into two parts, one larger - the main room, and a smaller, perhaps not heated room.

Our house's front door was originally directly onto the street and we had two rooms with one side smaller than the other. So although it's listed as a Victorian house there's evidence that it's older.

The walk round Swanbourne was interesting and the autumn weather was lovely.

Towcester races

Gorgeous day to skive off to the races. Husband and I nipped out of work after lunch and drove up the A5 to Towcester racecourse. Husband got his money back on one race but otherwise we lost our bets.

But it was a lovely day to leave the office, to enjoy the autumn colours and the fluffy clouds skidding across a cold blue sky. The horses were beautiful. You could admire them not just on the race course but in the paddock parading before each race so you can see what they were like before you laid your bet.

All the children gone

Husband and I took son back to uni this afternoon, and now the house has no children living here all the time any more. I suggested going round to step daughter #1 for a dose of children and a cup of tea, but husband declined suggestion.

I know they've not quite all flown the nest; they'll be back from university during holidays, and there's the boomerang child. My brother came home in his late twenties. Step daughter #1 came back for six months with her husband and children and that was nice. But now my two are teetering out of the nest on their own. I've managed to get them this far, with help from their father for eight years, on my own for four years and their step father for the last eight . Here's hoping they'll all fly.

Sartorial advisor

On Saturday, daughter wore these really nice jeans. They look smashing on her, so I asked her advice on buying jeans. We tootled out together, and bought me a pair, which I'm wearing today. My Chinese friend, Gorgeous, commented:

"You are presenting really nice today, dressed like an 18 year old!"

Isn't that nice? I think daughter would be pleased.

Odd advice

My father was a responsible teacher and headteacher, who cared for children and adults. Thirty years ago my father gave my brothers his only advice to them on sex:

"Never get yourself in a room by yourself with a woman"

Then, my bothers and I thought it odd advice, but now I read that our priest is jailed for what he did thirty years ago. My father would never have done what that priest did. And he would never have let his staff do that either. What sort of school looked after its students and staff as badly as those Salesians did thirty years ago? How awful. How sad. How irresponsible.

Husband's 65th birthday

We both took the day off yesterday for a walk in the Malverns and a climb to the beacon.

We ended the day sharing a meal out with 3/4 children plus assorted spouses and grandchildren and step son. Everyone was merry and happy - a pleasant celebration.

Daughter gone

Took daughter to university today. She was as high as a kite, excited and cheerful. She left us happily - almost dashed away, after new friends.

This is her room but she's blanked out because she doesn't want me to photo her.

Taekwondo and daughter

Daughter is really fit and well. On Wednesday for the first time in months she came to tae kwondo and we made it through two sessions. On Friday she came back for more, and was so well, that the subum used her fitness as criteria for the rest of us!

"You're not working hard enough! No one in here is panting yet! Who's worked up a sweat? You can't be working - Grace hasn't fainted yet!"

Sad news

Daughter and I are really sad to see news here about our old parish priest. It doesn't make sense. It's not the priest we knew and were fond of.

Daughter home

Both son and daughter home again.

Daughter gave me a full debriefing on all the things she did, ate, saw and heard in Austria and is now excited about packing for uni.

Step daughter #3 has already left for the start of her master's course and Loughborough, which I think is in engineering design.

Son leaves in ten days or so.

Husband retires down to three days a week work the day after daughter goes to uni.

All change!

Son home

Son is safely home, happy with his experience in Venice. You can see some pictures of him and friends if you're on Facebook.

Daughter's Austrian work experience

Daughter is coping with getting up early. Remember that Austrian time is an hour ahead of UK, and daughter has been sleeping in late for the last month.

As Elly was teaching this morning, and she wanted me to go into school with her, I woke up at 6.30am. Local time. Following a normal morning routine, with toast and honey for breakfast. We got to the school at about 8, and Elly was desperate to introduce me to the headmaster.

Daughter was very pleased to see a couple of the girls who'd stayed with us but then discovered that Elly expected her to teach -

rather daunting when I've never done it before, nor been given any warning. I taught some nursery rhymes, remembering what you said about learning poems and songs in foreign languages. For two of the three classes, I also explained something of the English secondary school system.

Later Elly and daughter walked to the Rathaus (town hall) to see the director and meet the people that she will be working with. Quite daunting, but so many of them speak English so well -

all better than my standard of French.

Outside, in the plaza, they met Angelica and her father. Angelica, her mother and daughter went for an ice cream. They considered that quality normal, but it far exceeded what daughter might expect in England.

We then rushed off to the opening of an art gallery. One of the exhibitionists was a friend of Elly's - everyone seems to know her here. There was a jewellery stand as well, which I really admired. Afterwards, Elly drove to a Shooting Club. Yes, as in guns. I'm told that Ferlach, where Angelica lives, is famous for making rifles. So after chatting to a few people, and some more introductions - everyone shakes hands, and there have been maybe five who haven't been bone-crunchers, so my hand feels bruised and battered now - Elly took a turn shooting this really old rifle. She had some trouble, as her hands were quivering. Next was my turn. Me, holding a gun. I was nervous to say the least. However, I did quite well, and have the card to show for it.

Your mother would have been nervous as well.

Daughter's impressions of Austria

Daughter has found the first experience somewhat overwhelming.

She was bemused to find blue skies - a welcome change after the English rain. As soon as she walked through the door from Arrivals, she found Elly, dressed in her usual fishnet socks and heels, and a yellow dress. She has a small girl with her, dressed in a more demure purple,
whom I later find out to be Elly's granddaughter, Letitia. Both hold brightly coloured posters welcoming her.

Daughter emails:

After taking photos, Elly asks me if I would like to go swimming in the lake, and I, somewhat flustered, agree. We make for the car, which is rather like a Landrover, and after some persuasion from Elly, I sit in the front. We go to Elly's daughter's house, but Sylvia, Letitia's mother is not there. I am served a drink that tastes rather like elderflower cordial, and phone you on Elly's mobile.

Elly insists on showing her all compass points of Klagenfurt:

• the lake,
• the pier where she paddles on the steps
• Elly's apartment,

Elly insists that her whole family speak English, so she had very few language barriers to overcome.

They went to a restaurant:

I had this sauce with seasonal mushrooms and a ball of something like stuffing. For pudding, Elly wanted an "Indiana", which is a massive amount of whipped cream, covered with chocolate sauce, and hiding these sponge biscuits. She insisted that I tried it, and then I decided to have one too.

Finally they got back to the apartment and unloaded her bag. Then went haring off to the late-opening supermarket to get some bread for breakfast.
I then asked for a bit of peace and quiet, and did some maths that Bristol uni had sent -

it's something that I know how to deal with, so is actually rather relaxing. Falling asleep was easy after all that.

Son's gone to Venice

Son seems to be safely landed in Italy and I hope he's now in Venice with his friends. It's the first time he's gone off somewhere abroad where he doesn't speak the language and parents are there any more. Like his sister, now in Austria, he's arranged it all for himself.

Husband and I are on our own for for days, well apart from youngest step daughter, but we hardly see her. In fact, yesterday evening, the phone rang, and it was her, phoning us from her bedroom because she couldn't be bothered to get up and come downstairs to see us to give us a message.

Daughter safely arrived

Daughter has got herself safely to Austria, and is with Elly. She rang me around four o'clock on Elly's mobile. So I can relax about her. She's safely in Klagenfurt. You can look the town up here.

Soliciting

"Don’t let any strange man offer you sex tomorrow", admonished husband as we phoned each other tonight.

What had elicited this comment was telling him my first impressions of Harrogate. I was homing on the booked guest house on the Ripon Road, passed it, found myself in town, so turned left, left, left again in an attempt to get back to it. I stopped to get my bearings and saw a woman walking up past my car, so I opened the nearside window, and called out to her. She pointed up the road I was on, assured me I was gong the right direction but that she wasn’t sure if I should turn right or left at the top. I thanked her and was about to move off when a young man approached the car. He was about five foot eleven, white, clean around 20, casually dressed and quite pleasant looking. I thought perhaps he’d over heard and was going to offer additional advice. He leant right into the passenger window, and said,

“Do you fancy a bit of sex for fifty quid?”

Now, the last time I had a similar proposition was some decades ago outside my girls convent school, in a much less salubrious area, and the offer was then for three quid. So I’m debating

• The surprise of the offer,
• The going rate,
• Inflation
• Who I am and my age
• Who is paying whom
• And why..

I don’t get any further in my thoughts because my mouth splutters
“What!” and then “Are you talking about?”

I already have the car in gear and move away. Some other young men of similar height and age walk up as if to join him. But they don’t look as if they knew what he was saying, or as if they’d been daring each other to do silly things. It’s only later that I think perhaps it was a ruse to get his head in my car and nick my handbag, but I never keep that on the passenger seat. Perhaps he needs money for drugs, but he looked too fit and healthy to be doing drugs.

When I recount the incident to my business colleagues later they remark that perhaps he was seeking a Mrs Robinson, or perhaps I should’ve asked him for a hundred quid.

Visiting parents

I've dropped in to see parents before going to a symposium & a conference in Harrogate. It's nice to see parents' new flat, right next to the church, which makes it really easy for them to nip out to pray. But I shall miss my youngest who is flying out to Austria while I'm away on the conference.

Poor old cleaner

Our cleaner's really hurt herself. She sent me a really long text message:

Really sorry not going 2 b able 2 clean 4 u at all next wk would hv phnd but u wdnt understnd mouth swollen i know bill spoke 2 adrian but wntd 2 put u in picture going tue 2 hv stiches out thn going hosp 2 c if nose broken hv bn in touch wid nat accidnt helpline solicitor phning me mon good samaritan who stopped and took us 2 hosp was head of the floyd anyway will keep u informed apologies again yr brusf and battered cleaner

Bill told husband that she'd fallen in the High Street.

Trains

Husband has been busy making trains run on track. The video is one and a half minutes, and a few megabytes.

Coombe Hill

I worked at home this morning. This afternoon husband, daughter and I went blackberrying up Coombe Hill, where, despite living here for eight years, I'd not yet been. It was a lovely day for a walk, neither too hot, nor wet. We saw loads of butterflies and flowers: St John's Wort, scabious, vetch, rosebay willow herb, harebells. I don't know what a yellow flower I saw was but a purple one was greater knapweed. I got stung by a nettle. We saw something like a red oakapple growth on roses, like a lot of strings all tied together, perhaps hiding a bug. I wonder what made those.

Husband is really good at recognising butterflies. We saw a peacock butterfly and a yellow primstone and a meadow brown. Husband collected loads of blackberries for a pie. Daughter and I ate blackberries.

Then we walked down to Rumseys in Wendover and ordered vanilla ice espresso, hot chocolate, shortbread and raspberry pavlova. Finally we stopped off at the Chiltern Brewery and bought some beer.

That was as good an afternoon holiday as any!

Parents fame

I wanted to find a link to this newspaper article my parents sent me. They are famed at last in the Darlington and Stockton Times, where, on their wedding anniversary on 29th July, they also celebrated the tenth anniversary of Richmond's university of the third age. But the article doesn't seem to be on-line, so you can't see the nice photo of my parents and their friends from the U3A.

Shame.

It reads:

"Lifelong learning was celebrated in Richmond as the town's U3A marked its tenth anniversary.
One of hundreds across the county, Richmond University of the Third Age is a learning co-operative providing educational, creative and leisure opportunities for people over the age of 50.
Last Friday, members gathered for their tenth anniversary luncheon at the King's Head Hotel."

And then it talks about parents' 59th wedding anniversary and even quotes my dad, "

It certainly keeps the old brain cells alive.

" My dad has very alive brain cells, a very bright man.

Taekwondo olympics

We won a bronze medal in taekwondo, thanks to Sarah Stevenson. There was some drama over decisions when the referee didn't allow a kick initially, then overturned the decision.

There was even more drama when another taekwondo player, a Cuban called Matos, kicked a referee in the head.

I know from my limited experience that sometimes they just don't see that you've scored a point. They need these instance replayers like they have in tennis. I see various commentators are saying this, such as the BBC. Quite right too.

Retail therapy

I thought I'd work at home today. I've done two loads of laundry, defrosted the freezer and took daughter for a bit of retail therapy at Bicester Village. She bought a skirt that looks fantastic on her whether it be every day wear or teamed up with something special like this red backless top.

Fighting Grannies

I hope we do well in the taekwondo Olympics. We lost this morning to the Afghan contender. Sarah Stevenson is our hope for tomorrow, but look what Korean grannies do. And I thought I was the oldest in our club.

Maths at Bristol

Daughter must have chosen well - I see Bristol maths department comes really high in the Times Good University rankings
http://extras.timesonline.co.uk/gug/gooduniversityguide.php?AC_sub=Mathematics&x=31&y=7&sub=22
being beaten only by Oxford and Cambridge.

A levels

Daughter's results are out and really really good so she's off to Bristol university to study maths, but not just maths, but maths with a year in continental Europe too.

Photos

We walked up the Wrekin.

This really was an uphill walk. The sign posts were a tad confusing too.

The flowers were gorgeous.

If you looked closely too you could see some wonderful insects, caterpillars and bees.

At the top of the hill, it was a bit windy, but you could see for miles, even if what you could see was the rain coming towards you.

Weekend away

Yesterday we went to Coalport and walked along to Ironbridge - see photo - more than 4 miles and back to the hotel uphill. Daughter would have hated it.

The flower beds in this town are not town flowers, but the council has taken the opportunity to sow pieces of 'waste' land with wild meadow flowers, which are absolutely gorgeous.

Spoke to son on mobile phone about what he could raid from the freezer. Half way through conversation he says "B...g..r!" He's just unloading the washing machine, where he finds his passport!

Weekend break

We're off tomorrow to sunny Telford, Coalport and Ironbridge. We're leaving the 'children' to look after themselves, the house and the cat while we explore the museums (we've already got books of tickets) and walk the countryside.

Wicked step mother

Who would choose to be a wicked step mother? They always come to a deserved sticky end, even if it's only being booed off the pantomime stage! Becoming step mother to three beautiful step daughters and a handsome step son was never going to be a career move. But it brings joy including emails like this:
Dear Nana,

I was reading a poem book to Mummy and I found a poem about a stepmother. Mummy thought you might like it because you are a stepmother yourself. It is very funny in some parts so I hope you will enjoy it.

The Wicked Stepmother

I expected her to wear hobnail boots
Beneath a stiff brown skirt.
I expected her to screech
Like a throttled parrot:
“No you can’t go to the ball,
the ball”
Or
“Scrub that floor again!”

I just knew she would offer me
Shiny poisoned apples;
Hide all my party invitations;
Spend hours asking the mirror
Leading questions
Then take me into a forest
And leave me there.

I pictured her waiting
For the postman
To deliver a parcel
Containing my torn-out heart

I thought I would have to
Grow my hair
Until it was long enough
To hang out of high windows

I imagined pinning all my hopes
On a mountaineering prince
Armed with a chainsaw
And a first aid manual.
Or the kindness of seven
Short men.

So imagine my surprise
When an ordinary-looking person arrived
Who likes fairy tales too.


Lindsay Macrae

Blood and glass

A pool of blood on the steps outside today was evidence of a fracas in the street at around 2 o'clock this morning. Step daughter #3 called the police when she heard a drunken woman shouting, "I'll pay for it. Please let me go!" She'd broken a window, yet another pane of glass broken in our street, and the house occupant was awake and having a real go at her. However, this culprit had also cut herself, and was bleeding badly. There are drips all the way down the street, a splash on the new paving stones, and a pool of blood that hadn't dried by 11 o'clock. SD#3 says that the police used tracker dogs to look for her. If she was bleeding that badly, and was drunk, then she needed help.

I wonder if they found her.

Ill Austrian

One of our little Austrian visitors wasn't very well yesterday, with a tummy ache and feeling sick. Her teacher came round and gave her herbal drops, and prescribed coca-cola. Certainly it seemed to work, for both girls were happy and smiling and eating at breakfast this morning. I was impressed too that the whole conversation was conducted in English, despite their youth. They've been learning English for only two years, yet responded with understanding and sensibly if somewhat shyly.

It was also an opportunity to get a photo of this wonderful flamboyant teacher. See it on the family web site.

Austrian girls

Our two young visitors slept and ate okay, and we got them off on the coach to visit Bath and Salisbury today. Their flamboyant teacher was dressing in a mini dress of pale yellow, with the usual high heeled shows and pink net socks, but her eye makeup was wonderful in a rainbow of metallic colours to match her dress.

Austrian visitors

We are expecting two twelve year old girls from Austria to come tomorrow and stay with us for 13 days while they explore England and English. We had similar visitors last year, along with their wonderfully flamboyant teacher.

This WFT brings a class over every year - see Visitors from Austria last year.

Visitors from states

Husband and I went to Waddesdon Manor with Brother and sister-in-law for a fine wine & cheese tasting in the aviary. They'd flown in with my nephew for a 10 day visit. We tasted red wine, a sauvignon and a sauternes.

Then we came home and tasted some more wine with our pizzas. Some of us stayed up past midnight.

In the morning, over a leisurely breakfast (very leisurely as teenagers had scoffed all the bread so we had to nip out to bakers) of rolls and cheese and garlic sausage we had time for slightly more chat before they left for Lancashire.

Norcap and space

Our open secret gardens earned £1000 for our chosen local charities. On Friday two young local residents who had been helping with refreshments presented cheques to Norcap and Space.

Another ceremony

Step daughter #3 today had her degree award ceremony, well deserved. And her supervisor told us that he wants and is accepting her on to the MSc course starting in September. Well done SD#3!

See family site for photo.

Taekwon Do grading results

I passed the grading and the subum (teacher) presented me with my new certificate and blue belt. I am now officially at an intermediate grade.

The subum was very complimentary as he gave me my belt, because I've been doing the extra classes and sparring, and am 'of an age .. ' He didn't say my age, though it's obvious I'm the oldest in the class. The kids were great afterwards, congratulating me, and asking my age and even a couple of really energetic teenage lads saying I was better than them, which I'm not and they've got the potential that I haven't. But it was nice to have the praise.

I just hope I don't get beaten up in the tournament on Sunday.

Highgrove house

Some residents of the old town visited Highgrove House today to look round the gardens. I love the hosts of hostas and the reuse of wood or objets trouves. The Duke of Cornwall (aka Prince Charles) also has loads of plants that we have in our garden, and things that I had in my old garden, like his flower meadow - I attempted to grow wild flowers at the bottom of my old garden.

It was a nice way to spend our eighth wedding anniversary (bronze). We've ended the day sharing a bottle of Godbillon-Pointillart champagne.

Taekwon Do grading

I went in for my blue belt grading, which is scary. I had to do several patterns, 3 and two step sparring, pad work with a black belt. And then free sparring with three different partners of the same grade. I find sparring exhausting. I got a tiny bruise over one eye when I didn't block fast enough.

Flower show

Husband and I have spent today at the RHS Hampton Court flower show admiring the blooms and the other goodies, like sculptures, hats for gardening, jewel-coloured clothes (cost same as jewels) and bags, olive bread, truckles of cheese, garden furniture, garden lighting, handy gadgets for holding your handbag,sausages, fig trees, olive trees, citrus trees. And stuff,at prices cheaper than normal. We bought a fold-up box to trundle our purchases in (fig tree and olive tree and solar garden lights), and that was only two thirds the web site price.

I got a lovely new blue hat with a silver leather flower.

Thoroughly Modern Millie

Aylesbury Vale Youth Theatre are putting on Thoroughly Modern Millie at Pendley Court Theatre in August. It's run by young people who put together rehearse and produce a play just in the university holidays, so done under time constraints. It's a great idea because it brings together local young people who are away at college or uni and can only meet in the breaks, but this is a profitable meeting.

Get your tickets through the AVYT site. Last year's production was good, so worth going again.

Young man

One of the joys of parenting older children is getting to know their young adult friends. Yesterday evening son came home around 10 with three friends. I left them chatting and sharing his malt whiskey. I hadn't known he was going out, where he was going, who he was going with until it happened, but was pleased to see his friends. I've met them before.

At seven o'clock this morning I bleary eyed wandered into the visitor's bed room to use the bathroom while husband was shaving in the other. But there's a lump in one of the beds! I think son has brought home a superfine specimen of young manhood. I guess he wasn't going to go home late to wherever he's come from, and fair enough son has given him a spare bed.

Might be a good idea if son warns me.

Dishwasher duty is demeaning

Washing dishes, putting them in the dishwasher, unloading the dishwasher, being pointed in the direction of dishwasher is "demeaning" retorts twenty-year-old son. Affronted parent is now grumpy.

Demeaning? Oh yeah? Get on with it, or parental unit won't be demeaning itself to serve him meals this university break.

Lovely husband

"He's so lovely, your husband! He bought you a cup of tea."

My Indian friend praised him at 7.30 this morning as we met for a long day at work. I had to get up at 6.30 in order to be at MK in time. He offered last night to bring me a cup of tea. He did. At ten past five.

Kathleen Ollerenshaw

Yesterday I thanked Kathleen Ollerenshaw again for the lift she gave me in 1973. I haven't seen her since. Then I didn't know she was a mathematician but yesterday in the reception before Robin Wilson's inaugural maths lecture, I noticed this old lady sitting alone and asked if she was a mathematician. She said "Oh yes. Very much so!" It was only after the lecture that someone told me her name. She is very old and has a stick, but just as pleasant as she was then.

I knew of her when I was at school, as having something to do with the education committee in Manchester. The education authorities said that they wouldn't pay for someone like me in the sixth form of a direct grant school and my parents mentioned her name when explaining why I might choose to leave and go to an FE college

She's got an Erdős number of five, which means that she coauthored a paper with someone who co authored a paper ... an Erdős number of one is someone who coauthored a paper directly with Erdős. My mathematically inclined daughter is well impressed.

Big Burly Black Belt Bloke bit me!

I got my finger bitten this evening at taekwondo.

Big burly black belt bloke and I got paired up to play tag. You have to tag your partner on the knee, or shoulder or elbow, depending on the rule of the day. I raised my left arm to block BBBBB from touching my head, while I ducked to tag his knee. I must have had my fingers out, instead of clenching my fist, because I felt his teeth round one finger!

He didn't really bit - he was just as surprised as me. He went home laughing about it!

Son home

Brought son home from uni. Got my car in the way of a photographer, which is normal in Oxford cos of all the tourists, but this guy came with a sound man and a boss too.

Some woman in red was cycling up and down outside the college. Every now n' then she'd stop by a photographer and someone would dab something on her nose. Turned out it was Fiona Bruce and she'd studied languages at Hertford. Son told me. He'd even asked her if she'd like to go out last night with some of the student helpers for supper so you might see a photo of him and her if you are on Facebook and can find him. Sadly, she was already booked to go out with people from the Antiques Road Show.

Taekwon Do demo

Arty friend and I demo'd tae kwon do today at local school fete. The subum was there with his wife and gorgeous new baby. It looks gorgeous, a plump sleepy boy but asleep in his pram, soft as down he doesn't look as dangerous as subum.

We warmed up in front of a crowd. AF reasonably complained that when we had to stand in a circle and bend down to put our elbows on the ground, she didn't appreciate having to have her bum up in the air towards the crowd!

Then we did some line work, demonstrated patterns and three-step sparring. The black belts demonstrated one step sparring. Finally the littlest student demonstrated flying kicks by leaping over two, then three then four then five other students.

Mum-in-law

Daughter and I took Granny over to meet son at uni. Granny and son had a lovely time chatting and he demonstrated his new skill on his electric guitar. Then we had a tour of the college - she managed all the steps and stairs, down to the library and up over the bridge of sighs. In the other quad we met a couple who are his closest friends and we talked with them for ages.

One of his colleagues is about to go off for several weeks investigating monkeys because all monkeys in captivity pull their hair out and she is going to observe and record them in an effort to find out why.

Then son took us to Edamame, a Japanese restaurant that gave us lovely food, including edamame beans, and lots of really nice green tea. I ate sushi - I don't think I've done that before - and loved it. We think Granny liked it too. And we'd all like to go there again. How nice to have a son who knows these places.

Degree ceremony

Husband and I took today off to attend the OU degree ceremony at Milton Keynes for my MRes. We were going to nip out of the office at lunch time for a few hours, but thought step daughter #3 was going to come with us, so we would leave home later, get an official group photo and have a nice lunch before the ceremony. However, SD#3 must have missed out a syllable (she's been practising her glottal stops) when she told us that she wasn't coming so we didn't realise until 11 o'clock this morning.

Nevertheless, we got an official photo and had a nice lunch beforehand. We found our seats, watched the great and the goods process on to the stage, listened to eulogies on those who were receiving honorary doctorates and applauded the graduates. The graduates were presented to Will Swann, director of students, the doctorates came first then the masters then those who'd received degrees. There were two differences from when I received my first degree:

1. Then there were postgraduate degrees, and BAs, but now there are doctorates, masters, and all sorts of types of named degrees: BAs, BSc, diplomas, certificates and even foundation degrees. That reflects a change and huge expansion in what the OU offers, from around 40 courses in the seventies to over 400 now.
   
2. Then I knew only the people I'd come with - my neighbour and all his family - and we'd all come in his green single decker bus. Now I recognised some of the people on the stage because now I've been an associate lecturer for nearly twenty years, and because as a full time student I get to know faces on the campus. And it was nice after to raise champagne together with someone who works in our building.
   

I think I was prouder of my first degree because it took so much effort and a change in self-belief to get it. Here are some photos of husband who believed in me and supported me through it, and my proud parents when I went to get my BA.

Secret gardens opening

On Sunday we opened our garden, as did dozen others in the old town. Around 300 people traipsed round, admiring layout, size, hidden greenery behind houses that are right on the street, and our delphiniums (blue) and geraniums (red). Photographers could be seen focusing in close on the phygelius.

We have several empty and light filled spots where we cut down trees like the elder and a pine. We left notices asking for advice from our visitors.

"What should we do with this border now the branches have gone? Your suggestions are welcome."

Some suggestions have been:

• a gravel garden or a Japanese garden or a water garden
• currant bushes
• apple trees

"What should we do with this space now the trees have gone? Your suggestions are welcome."

This elicited:

• Don't cover the old wall and narled trunks, they compliment the age of the garden. Fruit bushes fine, introduce lost of different shades of greenery. Build potting shed, fence west
• Nude sunbathing!
• Chickens!
• A BOMB

We're still wondering whether and where to have a Wendy house. I miss the one my children had until 2000 and want one like it for the grandchildren. And we might get a fig tree - some visitors agreed - or an olive tree, tile the bare wall, or put a mosaic on it, or perhaps graffiti! But then the outside of the walls already get that! We've also been advised to consider a Japanese garden, oriental features and a willow sculpture. I like that idea.

Our grandson sold ice creams, making a tidy £60 towards our chosen charities: Norcap and Space. Rumour has it that between us all we made around £900.

I'll load my photos up to my flickr site.

Fascinating Ascot

I loved this outing. Fascinating hats, like black and red on blond hair, or a pink rose on black, or lime green net. My favourite hat was two pink carnations, with a white and a yellow rose and white feathers. The most fascinating fascinator was a nest of pink down, with pink plumes and surrounded by flying feathers. Wow! Everyone dressed up. You couldn't be overdressed. If you went feeling silly because you have a silly hat on and you don't usually wear hats, when you get there you wonder if your hat is silly enough for the event.

The party atmosphere began on the train from Waterloo with champagne corks popping, laughter as the train swayed, and mobile calls to friends who couldn't get on at Richmond but had to wait for the next train.

Strict instructions had been given on what to wear. Most women wore skirts or dresses, and some were really really smart, brilliant colours and coordinated with hats, shoes (high heeled) and bags. In the general enclosure there were a lot of shoulders and backs on display though in the royal enclosure that was not allowed. The men dressed up too, at least in suits, some in morning suits, some in kilts and sporans. One cheeky chap, old enough to be someone's gran'pa sported a badge that announced he was the "Ascot official panty inspector"!

Husband and I won on two of the six races. We bet each way on Free Agent, the Queen's horse. When it won, you could see her thumbs up "Done it!".

Would I go again? Yes, but racing has to be either a social event or a betting event. I'm not too bothered about the betting so I'd like to go with friends too. Any friends near London who fancy coming to Ascot next year with us?

Ascot races

Husband and I are going to the races. I've never been to the races despite having worked in a bookies years ago. Here's the programme for Saturday.

Busy

I'm too busy to blog this week. I have

• a 5000 word report to re-jig for my supervisors
• garden to tidy
• furniture to move before plumber comes
• 20 assignments to mark
• a long dental appointment
• a visit (last ever) to my daughter's school

Oh, and a visit to Ascot on Saturday.

Graffiti

More graffiti appeared in our street - just a small tag on the paint work at the front of a house. One neighbour saw a possible culprit and rushed out to photograph his back. Glad our CCTV is now recording.

Broken pane

Yesterday evening some yob chucked something at our window and cracked the pane. Pest!

This is the penalty for living near the town centre. But being a conservation area, we can't have shutters - bit daft really when you realise that this sort of problem has happened on and off for centuries because this was the main road into Aylesbury, and out of Aylesbury after going to the pubs! If you remove the outer rendering of a lot of the houses you find the fixings for the old shutters. But you have to argue the case with the conservation officers. House down the road had lots of panes broken last summer for several Fridays in a run. Broken on Fridays, fixed on Mondays then broken again. And kids think they're just being a nuisance and having a bit of fun, but don't realise that the old sort of glass in these houses is irreplaceable. They don't make glass like that any more.