Dull Sunday afternoon

We took the Austrian girls for a picnic in Wendover woods, where all the world and his friends were, so there weren't any barbecues left for us to use. We got out our picnic blankets and had a picnic on the salad and buns and crisps and apples and home made apple cake. We just didn't have a barbecue. It didn't rain.

Then we visited Tring museum, admired the stuffed bear, gorillas, foxes, dogs, ate icecreams and came back in the dull light of not-quite-raining.

Everyone must be back from their two week summer break, ready to get the children back to school on Thursday at the start of September (after the teachers have had their inset days), so the museum was heaving with children - I've never seen it so busy. The first time we went there in 1999 or 2000, it was so quiet you'd have thought any noise was a ghost.

Woods and museum full of people. But there were very few at tae kwon do.

Relatives

Son's off to see some relatives. He saw some nice ones a couple of weeks ago, so nice that he sent a bunch of flowers as a thank you, but forgot to say who they were from. Someone's got a mystery surprise.

Home again

We are safely home despite a flat tyre on the M40.

On the way we

1. went up the cliff railway at Bridgnorth, - see the video
   
   
2. visited the Severn Valley Railway


3. picnicked by a canal,
4. and visited the Boulton exhibition in Birmingham.

The children enjoyed 'minting' coins, taking coin rubbings, or stamping golden coloured paper. I hadn't realised Boulton had had a contract to make copper pennies, particularly cartwheels, called that because of the ridge round the outside.

I have a similar one - a huge copper penny, dated 1799 with George III's head. I bought it for half a crown from a girl in school whose grandfather had found it in a wall of his cottage.

Holidaying in Shropshire

At 9 o'clock in the evening, the children are at the top of the youth hostel, helping another child make a jigsaw. I sip a glass of rose and husband's had Severn Valley Railway Manor Ale. The dining room has just emptied of the last family to eat - another pair of grandparents and two of their grandchildren - so we're not the only potty people to revert to youth hostelling in old age.

Today husband drove us to the Long Mynd, then walked the children for an hour and a half over the hills while I drove on to a car park where we met up before visiting the Midlands Gilding Club just another mile over the moor. We enjoyed a filter coffee and I showed the children gliders - a Skylark 4 - I used to have one - and we watched people rigging a K6. Granddaughter got interested enough to start photographing gliders, inside and out, and their trailers too.

The weather wasn't yet good enough to launch anything, but you could see the clouds for miles, over to the sea. And the colours of the heather on the moor was beautiful. The vertiginous road up from Church Stretton provides wonderful views of the vale.

In the afternoon we visited Ludlow Castle where the children ran round merrily. Raf is being a pirate at the moment, so the castle gave him an opportunity to evade the navy, and to wave his (floppy orange) sword. Wearing a green bandanna, an orange plastic gun thrust into his trouser pocket and an orange tea sheet, he looks dressed the part.

Youth hostelling

We're off youth hostelling again with the two eldest grandchildren. We leave our Austrian visitors in the charge of daughter.

Wilderhope Manor is our destination, a National Trust property. But the trip to get there is itself interesting. We headed for Ironbridge and visited a couple of its museums: Engenuity and the Museum of Iron. Engenuity enticed the children with its many activities, water & potential or kinetic energy, damming fords and opening dams, splashing the water to encourage it to flow, electrical energy to power a radio, a light, a vacuum cleaner, a video camera and TV or a pair of flying pigs - they took little energy. In the Iron Museum we explored history of cast iron and had a cup of tea.

The hostel was somewhat difficult to find - we had the address and a map but not directions so by heading off in the wrong direction on the right road a couple of times, we had to triangulate in on it. But arrived too late to order supper. See similar situation in Ireland a couple of weeks ago. We toddled off down the road to the local pub again.

The hostel is this amazing Elizabethan building with stone fireplaces, fancy ceilings marked with 'S' for the Smallman family who lived here and two oak spiral staircases, one for the servants and one slightly wider one for the family. The children have great times haring up and down the different staircases, romping along the corridors, chasing each other, playing hide and seek.

We share a four bunk attic room with our own bathroom. Breakfast in the large stone flagged dining hall. The upper floors are boarded, which is why we can hear the children thumping along the corridors and through the dormitories. The entrance hall is embellished with swallows' nests - one still occupied in the evening by "teenage" swallows, well able to fly, but squawk loudly when their parents arrive.

La Motte du Caire

from http://cvvmc.free.fr/webcam.php

Oxford Gliding Club barbecue evening

We went to the Oxford Gliding Club barbecue evening yesterday - all of us, husband, son, daughter and our two Austrian visitors.

My first barbecue there was August, 1976. They really are a friendly club, welcoming us, though I haven't visited for some years. Several people came and chatted, some remembering me and some even recognising son & daughter as their father's children. They told son and daughter tales of their father, about the decca navigation system he made, and a speed gun avoidance device that confused the doppler effect of the police radar gun. It read 140mph when he was doing 40.

The food was delicious and heaps of it for mere pounds: salmon, pork crackling, salads galore followed by three varieties of pudding. I thought the Austrian girls were falling asleep, but they woke up enough to charge their way through the crowds for at least three helpings of strawberries, then went back to play on the swings.

There were bottles of bubbles on the tables for us to play with.

One of the pilots was a flame juggler - if I'd known there'd be such entertainment I'd have taken my Flip video. Then someone produced those noisy twirly balloons that fly into the sky and around with a screech, like they are live animals. We had fun with those.

I was having such a good time that my children had to drag me away so that they could get to bed.

Austrians

The girls' programme includes:

• Oxford
• Stratford-upon-Avon / Bicester Village
• London Tour
• Isle of Wight
• London: Hyde Park etc.

One day they will meet the mayor, visit the museum and the library. Another day they depart for Scotland: Gretna Green area and return from Scotland the next day, stopping overnight in a four star hotel.

On Saturday they visit London: Wimbledon/Oxford Street/with a Matinee of ‘Sister Act’ (Palladium). Daughter is going with them.

They have a day spent with Host Families with an optional afternoon gathering for all family members & students for a picnic/BBQ at Wendover Woods (weather permitting).

And finish with a visit to Thorpe Park.

Austrian visitors

Two Austrian girls are visiting us again. One is the same one who came last year. She's asked to come back with us and has brought a different friend. They start with lessons the first couple of days but otherwise have a hectic programme, led by their wonderfully enthusiastic, energetic and flamboyant teacher.

Links to Afro Jumbo Jeegs

The videos of Afro Jumbo Jeeg's performance at Vernasca is on youtube. Here they are doing acrobatics and limbo dancing with audience participation.

and here they play with fire

They skip here, again with audience participation.

Ireland photos

Here's the bloody nose husband made himself when he fell down the double decker bus stairs.

And here's the view from the honeymoon suite. It was lovely.

The third photo is what I could see when we got lost trying to find Powerscourt. I couldn't enjoy the views because I'm too short to see over high hedges. Husband pointed the hostel out on the hill in the distance and I scrambled up to get the photo. See how far we'd already walked, and there was another hour's walking yet to come. Notice too the rain clouds - it wasn't even a sunny walk.

Finally, I got one photo of the Powerscourt gardens, that I had no energy left to stroll round. Notice how the weather cleared up to make a glorious afternoon.

Sunday in Ireland

Still away celebrating the fortieth wedding anniversary of old university friends (OHFs). After a long late evening that included a Spanish buffet, a quiz on our hosts' friends' activities,

• (who has an o-gauge in his garden?
• who has a dog called Ceviz?
• who're vegetarians?)

and a sing song round the campfire, we repaired to our various dormitories and bunks. People worried about waking each other in the night.

"Do you snore?"
"I have to get up in the night - I'm sorry."
"I always have to get up in the night."

We allayed each others' fears and set to sleep. At 3.30 in the morning, my new friend in the top bunk quietly crept down her ladder, and..

kicked over the bedside stool of my friend sleeping in the next bunk. Over went her alarm clock, book and contact lenses. On went someone's torch. Muttered apologies all round, giggles from some of us. Since we were awake, four out of the six of us then got up and went to loo. One of the loos didn't lock very well - there was a man in it. Given that we're all old enough to be celebrating decades of marriage, you might not have expected this much activity in the wee small hours. Or perhaps it was the wee bit that was the problem.

Morning dawned. We anticipated a long or a short walk. Some stalwarts set off to trek to the top of Powercourt Waterfalls. Others (like me) just reconnoitred the river, leaving some including the children for a nice swim and a splash. It was a lovely spot so not surprising that it was rumoured that some of us women had been skinny dipping that that morning. I came back to the hostel and sat in the sun, listening to interesting chat, looking over the hills, idly watching a helicopter.

The swimmers returned with our hostess. Sadly, our hostess's mobile phone rang with bad news. Three of the stalwarts had gone even further ahead of the main party and one had collapsed with a suspect heart attack. The helicopter had picked the invalid and her husband up, and taken them to hospital. The third was walking back on her own.

Fortunately, an hour later we heard from the husband in the hospital that heart attack victim was alive and well, and having tests. We were able to take the bus back to the station in peace. It had been a lovely weekend.

What was lovely?

• The Saturday afternoon weather was sunny, not rainy like during the morning walk.
• The meal was delicious.
• OHFs' friends were as lovely, as interesting and as bright people as our OHFs, people you'd like to get to know better.
• The honeymoon suite was lovely - comfortable, and fun.
• The hostel was clean and functional.
• The green countryside was fascinating, smelt and looked beautiful.
• The Irish transport (DART, taxis, buses) worked and went on time.

Saturday in Ireland

Am I tired!

Husband suggested we take a stroll to Powerscourt, this ancient Irish house, with wonderful gardens. We'd need to walk back and catch the bus - not far. But he thought we should walk round the back way and be there quicker.

"By coffee time"

he promised me.

"That's eleven o'clock?"

I checked. Yes, fine.

At ten o'clock we leave, down narrow lanes with high hedges. I can't see a thing. We're not there by eleven, and then he starts to read his map. We're not there by twelve. We're not there by one o'clock. We arrive around 1.15, and I don't get to sit down until 1.30. We must have walked nine miles. And husband's in the doghouse again.

We lunched, then sat around a bit - my legs being too tired to explore the gardens, enjoyed a cup of tea on the terrace, then got a taxi back to the hostel, where all the other guests were beginning to congregate, ready for the party - our friends' fortieth wedding anniversary.

Now we are allocated bunk beds in dormitories. There are seventy guests, so I assume lots of us are in dormitories. I'm in the girls dormitory and our husbands are in the boys dormitory next door. I bag a bed and start to make it up when two jolly women arrive. I've already met them in the hall, greeting long friends. But now I see them together I realise they look very much the same.

"We're twins."

I spend the next few hours meeting friends of our friends, memorising names, comparing how we know know them. I videoing meeting and then the speeches, and the song that two of the granddaughters sing. I'll put them all on a CD as a memento for friends.

Champagne drunk and toasts made we repair for the meal - a Spanish buffet

Ireland - youth hostel

We're in Ireland, some miles from Bray in a youth hostel, here to celebrate the 40th wedding anniversary of some university friends. Tonight we're berthed in the "honeymoon" suite. May be it's called that for its splendidly large double bed - the sort that comes with two single mattresses that fit onto one slotted wooden frame, like you get in Germany. It promises to be very comfortable. But even more impressive is the view. (Wait for photo - not allowed uploading from hostel). Lying on the bed, I look out across rolling green hills, pine trees and deciduous, dells, dales a farm house and a pair of serious walkers with big back packs.

But I'm hungry! We left home before eleven, so well after breakfast, drove to the airport where we ate our packed sandwiches, tomatoes and apples while waiting to board. The airport was the usual unpleasant experience, bombarded with warnings about liquids having to be in plastic bags, and anecdotes from fellow travellers on being allowed only one bag and squashing a handbag into your on board bag. If they hadn't killed themselves in the tower, I could thump those terrorists that have caused all this hassle round the world. And I guess so would everyone else in that queue.

We ate nothing on the plane, landed and caught a city bus straight into Dublin.

On the city bus, husband took suitcase upstairs. So we're looking out from the top deck, when he suddenly decided it was our stop, hurled himself and suitcase at the stairs just as the bus jolted away. Husband and suitcase tumbled down stairs, he splitting his nose open as his head hit the wall at the bottom. The whole incident made a whopping big noise and upset everybody on both desks. The driver was most concerned - bless her - it wasn't her fault. But at least it meant the bus stopped again for us to get off at the station.

At the station, we don't break for tea, nor even for plasters, but jump onto the DART (rapid transit) to Bray. At Bray I drag behind him, pointing out the tea stall as we're leaving the station but he says we'll look outside. Then he looks for a bus, not for tea. Not for plasters - you should see his bloody nose - wait for the photo. We catch the bus. I put the suitcase on the luggage rack and we stay downstairs.

At the end of the bus line, we have to walk for 40 minutes along a peaceful and increasingly narrow country lane. It's a nice walk apart from the din that his suitcase wheels make on the tarmac. By six o'clock we arrive at the hostel. The hostel doesn't do food.

Bah! Husband's in the doghouse.

He's arranging a taxi now, to take us back the seven miles to the nearest pub for supper. Good.

European geography

I've found a new site to distract myself on. It lets you model directing planes to land in certain countries at certain cities. Try it http://www.lufthansa-vp.com/vp1/play.html.

Maths

If you like maths, then look at the site that gives a theorem for the day, here: http://www.theoremoftheday.org/. If you were a maths teacher, you could collect all the pdf files in a folder, ready for use.

Leprechauns, fairies and elves in the garden

One evening I hear a knock at the door. It's the second one of the evening my husband who'd answered the first one is now at the bottom of the garden collecting blackberries.

"My brother, he came here and, I don't know his name, he .."
"You don't know your brother's name?"
"No, the man, here, he told my brother he could collect apples and my brother didn't know we was collecting apples so he said 'no', and we are collecting apples, and we've come to collect apples".

They're local children. A few minutes earlier they'd lost a wooden 'sword' over our wall, and their brother had come to retrieve it.

So I let them down the garden, giving them bags for collecting apples and they were so happy that they went and called the brother back and another friend and they all went round saying the garden was wonderful, and look at the rubber horse, and swinging on the swing as high as possible till the birch tree rocked, and they'd filled their bags. Then they scuttled away, promising to come back for more, and they came back. They picked and played and climbed trees till dusk, then scampered off with their apples and plums, looking like mischievous and happy elves in the evening gloom.

England People Very Nice

England People Very Nice
Just been to see this play at the National Theatre - it's so rude! It says what you wouldn't dare say in every day life about each other. Like, someone going off with a pack of fags, and

"I hope it does what it says on the packet!"

shouts someone else. Lots of clever lines I wish I could remember said by working class immigrants, but written by an intelligent playwright, Richard Bean.

OU on BBC

Did you see this programme last night? You've got a week to watch it. Remember how in the sixties people didn't go to university. The Open University was controversially new.

In the sixties lots of people didn't expect to get a degree. People didn't expect and weren't expected to get a degree. Lenny Henry, who presents the programme, is an OU graduate and he tells you what it was like when you saw all these people around you with degrees and you hadn't.

The Open University was controversially new, an opportunity helped by the advent of television, and Michael Young realising that in the USSR they were using radio to educate people and telling Harold Wilson. Fancy that! The OU came out of soviet Russia.

There was hostility. But Jennie Lee argued for it. Thank goodness for these people. I suspect in today's climate we'd never get the OU going because there aren't politicians who would take it as seriously.

BBC Childrens prom

Husband and I took two grandchildren up to London to the children's prom, which was great. Big bangs and videos and music (of course).

The excitement was before we even arrived at the Albert Hall because grandson jumped into an overcrowded tube train just as the doors were closing and gran'pa didn't jump in fast enough but something was stuck in the doors, and grandson was all worried because the train would go with him and he'd be all on his own and gran'pa was trying to heave the doors open and every one was getting very excited. Fortunately the doors opened again, and grandson got out and waited with us for the next train, and I had a go at gran'pa for scaring us all.