Next time - shoot me!

Next time someone says shall we do a car boot for the Cadwraeth (translation = conservation; a little community group that looks after the common land) have a BBQ for the church funds AND have old school friends come down to stay... all on the same day - shoot me.  And to think everyone believes it's so quiet in this neck of the woods; think again. It can be busy, very busy.  Luckily living with others as we do, we always have those extra pairs of hands that can help lighten the load.  Thanks especially to Her Next Door who was cooking and preparing for days beforehand.

On the Sunday we took our friends out and about...  as always very proud to show off picturesque Pembrokeshire.  I noticed again how thoroughly friendly people are here; really open, chatty and happy to give you their time. That made me even more proud to be a local now.  My friend's jaw dropped open when at one café, where they didn't take debit cards... and I didn't have cash, it was 'not a problem, pay later'.



My friend's christian name is David, so a visit to St David's was a must.

By Sunday evening I was tired though, I caved in - I think I might have had a little snooze on the sofa.  I just hope I didn't dribble in front of my guests.

The weekend before last we climbed Carningli Mountain - G10's friend had a birthday party at the very top. What a place to have it, thought I'd share a photograph of them - quite a special memory.


Top of the world.

And while we're on the topic of photographs, a blogger friend of mine has gone as far as putting one of my efforts on her wall.  Thank you Rachel for the very great compliment.  Quite mind blowing for me, to think my little corner of Wales is adorning the wall of a home in Israel.

Fuel Poverty

In the UK, fuel poverty is said to occur when in order to heat a home to an adequate standard of warmth a household needs to spend more than 10% of its income to maintain an acceptable heating regime.

Hmmm. Living out in the sticks we don't get access to gas, and therefore cannot benefit from the dual fuel discounts that are offered by many energy companies.  This makes my blood boil, which does help me to keep warm. 

We are not centrally heated... I know when some people walk into our home they think it's cold.  It's going to be.  It's old and has poor energy efficiency.  There are a lot of drafts and thick solid walls.

Her and Him Next Door live in the extension built with modern insulating materials and know how. They do have oil central heating, but this winter are being more economical (they previously kept it turned up high to keep Gran warm and snug). We all now put on that extra jumper instead.

Last time we filled up with oil (2489 litres which services both homes) it cost us an eye watering £1358.73.  This lasts for approximately six months. 

Our family also heats water and cooks with oil.  To compensate for not having the benefit of central heating we increase the Rayburn temperature to keep the core of the house warmer, especially on those very bitter days. 

The oil guzzling monster.

We have two electric radiators to supplement the range, these are situated in the one up, one down part of our home which is our snug and master bedroom (a separate house originally that has been knocked through).  These radiators check out the temperature of the room and do not let it fall below a chosen setting (which can be individually programmed into a seven day variable cycle).  Rather than heating the area, we tend to use the radiators set at a level to just about stop the rooms from actually freezing!

Hopefully our solar panels will also help reduce the hefty electricity bill, which has been approximately £2,200.00 per annum - again for both properties.

The ever watchful radiator...

We are also fortunate enough to have an open fire and a wood burner.  We use the wood burner a lot in the snug (which also negates the electric radiator coming on in the evenings by increasing the room temperature).  We are lucky in that we live surrounded by trees, so have a handy source of wood.  We also find the Ecofan effective, it works by pushing warm air from the wood stove out into the room. Circulating the heat increases efficiency and apparently is particularly effective when the stove is recessed in an inglenook.  It's also free to operate as it's powered simply by the rising heat from the wood burner. 

Our trusty wood burner, with resident Ecofan on top.

In total our fuel has cost us knocking on for £5,000.00 per year between us.  It's a lot of money, no matter how you look at it.  Paying for fuel is making us poor.  I'm going to start knitting that extra thick jumper now; with matching socks and vest.

Post Script
One benefit of our heating 'system' is we'd be fine in a power cut.  Them Next Door would soon be rushing round with their tails between their legs.  Our Rayburn can run without electricity and their fancy pants one cannot - so we'd have some warmth, be able to cook and have gallons of very hot water.  And of course the wood stove would carry on as before.

The Letter T

This week's prompt over at Taras is the letter T. Well I had two this morning... tense and trees.

I became a little bit agitated when G10 at the last minute before leaving for school, decided she had to take a memory box to Guides this evening (and she is not coming home in between times).  Scrabbling around to find items to go in (and take out - really why a plastic dinosaur?)  Of course we had to share a moment to wonder and stare at G10's first baby grow.  Was she ever so tiny?  I felt quite broody.  For a nanosecond.

Anyway I digress. 

The next panic was trying to find G10's spellings.  We hunted high and low, I accused J of having them last so it was obviously all his fault.  Actually he hadn't and it wasn't but I was blowed if I was going to admit that.  At the very last second we found the errant spellings in Them Next Door's place.  Even though G10 had looked there herself - I've come to the conclusion that she really does not have eyes that see.

Anyway I was stressed and a little bit tense.  As I walked towards the office I could hear the stream... sounding louder than normal due to the drop torrents of rain we've had recently.

I thought to myself, take 5.  So I took 5; I stopped and stared at the magical light that the soft sunshine and slight mist were creating in the trees and the soothing sounds of rushing streams cascading down the valley.  Then all was right with the world again.

The wood looking exceptionally beautiful this morning.

Hellraising...

It's nearly here.  The big day.  The title got your attention huh?  Actually it's fundraising; but at times it's felt like hell.

I have been working tirelessly, well on and off, for it seems like months.  I started in August, it's now October... gosh it really has been months.

There are only a few of us who attend our little church, and although I am not particularly religious I do like the community it helps to bring together and the building itself is beautiful.  And whoever you conceive Him to be it is his house - you can feel that.

St Meilyr's Church; rather beautiful.

I outlined my thoughts of a fundraising day on the church website and the interest started rolling in.  So much so that we've had to hire an extra room at Maenclochog Community Hall.  All good but still I'm panicking a little about how to cram all the exhibitors inside.  Luckily Claire (from Cake Carousel) has been a star.  Having laid on similar such events before she's in the know and is cool, calm and collected.  I don't know where I'd be without her help.

Lists are everywhere... thank goodness for the computer as they are continuously being remodeled.

I'll still forget something though.

Him Next Door has been very busy producing flyers and posters to advertise the event.  They've gone up everywhere and been handed out to anything that moves.  We've advertised in the local Community News and on Radio Pembrokeshire.  Her Next Door and I have leafleted all the local villages and the myriad of houses in between.  Notably every single one of them seemed to have a long drive and a letterbox that eats fingers for fun.  Oh and the dogs.  It really wasn't worth risking life and limb for at one particular house - so I retreated gracefully, never turning my back on the whirling dervish.

My biggest worry is that nobody will turn up to browse or buy.  Bit like arranging a huge party and it ending up resembling the Marie Celeste.  I shall feel totally responsible to all the lovely exhibitors (they are my children now) and I will be on tenterhooks all day.  If they do badly I suspect they won't be coming back next year.  (Oh yes I'm thinking of making this an annual event).  The other (admittedly smaller) worry is that we become too busy and every one ends up squeezed in to the hall, like sardines.  Unable to see what's on offer, people in their droves simply turn their backs and leave.  Empty handed.  Stuff of nightmares. 

I'm not sure what I'm going to do with my time after Saturday; but I sure as hell will get a better night's sleep.

Strike? Not in this house.

Violin with Him Next Door.
Maths-Whizz with Her Next Door.
Cooking with Daddy (cooking with Mummy would be a non starter).
Spellings and reading (Welsh and English) with Mummy.
Cycling with Daddy.

G10 checking her spellings.

G10 will be glad when today's strike called by the teaching union Ucac, is over... she can go back to school for a rest tomorrow.

Holiday - what holiday

Long lazy holiday, scratch that, one long mad balancing act.

G10 at play...
(main pic; she did not go out in brown).

We seem to have been a bit of a hotel for the whole of the summer holidays so far, great but busy.  Last lot of visitors just left us on Tuesday, then after the bank holiday more are arriving to stay for a few weeks.

With G9 G10 off doing exciting activities here, there and everywhere; (it's amazing what Pembrokeshire County Council offer and we've taken full advantage of the opportunities provided, along with various other activities out there, some free like the Purple Routes Project and others not so, like horse riding.)  Along with all the visitors and ferrying G10 about we've been helping to care for Gran and oh yes, work of course (house and paid.)

On top of all this I volunteered (I really must be certifiable) to help with the fundraising at St Meilyr's Church.  We're organising a Craft & Art's Fair (interested - either as a stall holder or to come and spend your money on the day?  If you might be then click St Meilyrs for more information - you'd be so very welcome.) Just to put the tin lid on it, I've also been going to summer school for Welsh. 

I am TIRED!  We've got a three day break coming up. Hurrah.  Not sure what's happening yet but we're going to be terribly selfish and spend it together, but deliciously alone.  Just the three of us.  Doing... not a lot I hope.

Here is a picture of another project completed (squeezed in the five minutes we've had free in the last 5 months!)  New roof over the hot-tub and water barrel at the end to take the water from the new guttering away.  It will all be much easier to water the pots down there now.

Looking smart, even if I'm not.

Just a quick thank you to PreseliMags for organising the horse riding.

Care Homes

Her Next Door was in tears last night... Gran's catheter has been playing up and it's been quite distressing trying to sort it out.  We have now decided to leave it out for a while - but this means we have to get Gran on the commode more often - ourselves.  This is hard physical work which is often done by Her Next Door, and is made even more difficult at four in the morning.  Of course life becomes a series of mountains to climb when you are tired and exhausted.

Something has to give, so with a firm hand I took Her Next Door out to look at a couple of local care homes for respite care (we are entitled to six weeks a year.)  We went unannounced and chose a couple located within 15 to 20 minutes drive from us.

I'm forcing myself to like them, there is essentially nothing at all wrong with them.  They were both in beautiful settings, the dignity of the residents preserved and the buildings themselves well cared for and maintained.  We found both the proprietors were genuine and the ambiance of the homes relaxed and caring.   By Her Next Door's high standards she was pleased with the quality, (she is comparing them to others she looked at once in a different area for someone else.) 

The trouble is, no matter how pleasant they are they can't ever be home from home and the guilt feelings rise up like bile in your mouth.  Her Next Door said a little sheepishly in the car on the way home; "I think I can cope, there's no need for Gran to go."  I am being strong for Her Next Door as she really, really needs a break.  It will not be good for anybody, Gran most of all, if Her Next Door becomes ill through sleep deprivation and sheer physical exhaustion.

Benefits for Gran include a proper bath, pedicure and hair styling - as well as her own room.  It will only be for a week at a time and she can have visitors at anytime.  Does it sound like I am trying to convince myself.  I am.  It's hard. 

Grandparents

The topic this week at Sticky Fingers is grandparents.

We are overrun with grandparents in our multi-generational household.  Her and Him Next Door are grandparents to G9 (Her Next Door likes to be called Grumpy by her grandchildren, I really can't comment further on this) and Gran is my grandmother.

They bring a third dimension to family life which enriches it greatly and in their own way they spread fairy dust to make every day that extra bit special. 

Perfect love sometimes does not come till the first grandchild. - Welsh Proverb

Celebration Week (mostly).

Last week was my birthday (I'm five now, 5+0=5), I had my Welsh exam, J's birthday and Sunday it was Father's Day.  This weekend we have my Gran's 101st birthday party celebrations.  Phew.  Wonderful time with still a party to look forward to and I feel much less stressed now that my Welsh exam is over and done with.

Ahh the exam.  I really shouldn't have done a post mortem.  I was quite upbeat when I came out, but after picking over the bones with some of the other candidates, I'm now not sure I got anything right.

It was also confirmed in the week that we're off to the Olympics next year (I'm not actually in it you understand).  What a lovely 'non' birthday present.

J and I treated ourselves to a meal out on his birthday (as a joint present to ourselves).  I highly recommend The Drovers Arms at Puncheston, we found that the food was exquisite and the service sublime.  Here is a picture of my lunch... apparently they use the same supplier as Heston Blumenthal.  

Lunch - not my bouquet...

Happy 101st Birthday today Gran, hope you have your party frock and tunes ready for tomorrow.  Got my fingers firmly crossed that it'll stay dry.  Love you.  xxx

Playing catch up

Have you missed me?  "No" I hear you cry.  Well tough.  I'm back.

Our Gran

I've been away on our extended family holiday to Whitesands (which is all of 20 miles or so away).  This was quite a feat this year though as Gran needed to bring all her equipment; including oxygen bottles, special mattress, portable adjustable tables, commode - the list goes on.  Anyway a very special shout out must go to Country Cars who provided the disabled transport and a driver.  They charged us the princely sum of £8.50, both ways.  Simply amazing (and there we'd been trying to get Gran's bus pass organised to get the fare half price, thinking it would be more like £85.50).   Also worth an honourable mention are the carers Western Welsh Community Care, who pulled out all the stops and juggled their staff so that we could still have the three visits a day whilst Gran was on holiday.

We all took it in turns to help look after Gran through the week, ably assisted by a To Do list I'd put together, (ding, just polishing the old halo).  For this I'd come under some flack from my brother (little Hitler might have been mentioned - hmm, me!)  When his turn came round though he bumbled and fumbled.  Had he actually read the To Do list?  Had he heck.  Gran felt sorry for him and in tones that seemed to indicate that it was all my fault she said, "Poor M, he really doesn't know what to do.  Nobody's told him."  My flabber was gasted.  "He berlurdy well does know," I said, waving the list about in the air.  But still she felt the (48 year old) boy was very hard done by.  How do the male species get away with it?

I returned home with a razor sore throat, which then developed into a near death experience (OK perhaps it was just a cold).

In the midst of all this I have been trying to revise for my Welsh exam, but the only successful thing I've managed to do so far is confuse myself further - it that's at all possible.

I'm also back on my running plan... second week in.  This has been partly prompted by a throw away, although rather to the point remark, "You're getting fat!"  Oh out of the mouths of babes.  I must admit I've got to do something, I'm looking more like Mr Blobby every day. 

Pembrokeshire Coastline - I did do some walking to burn those calories too.

Morning from hell

Woke up to the strains of J’s snoring in one ear and the dawn chorus in the other. As I also had Welsh revision on my mind I got up to do some and then G9 joined me sniffing hard. Unfortunately I then proceeded to get a blow by blow description about which nostril has 'more in it' than the other. Way too much information. I suggested we go back to bed, snuggle down and read some. It was very early still.

A little while later and after a coffee I asked J what time it was, “7:20” he said. Fine I thought, another hour at least until we all have to get up. I curled up under the duvet – and R E L A X E D.  Urgent shout from downstairs rudely broke into my now semi comatose state, “G9, G9” - “Whaaaaaaaaat?” I shouted back grumpily. “It’s time for G9 to go.”  Crikes (or words to that effect). I knew G9 had to get up earlier as having a day’s experience at the local secondary school, but somehow I hadn’t equated 7:20 as being 40 minutes to eight when J had told me the time earlier. She had to be at the bus stop at quarter to eight. Mad panic. G9 dressing and me ‘helping’ by throwing clothes at her, scrabbling round to find dinner money, throwing some food into her bag as no time for breakfast, quick comb of the hair.

Off Him Next Door and G9 went. Mission accomplished. Then suddenly – I remembered. She was supposed to wear trainers, not her school shoes. Bear in mind I’m still in my dressing gown (which is bright red with black flashes by the way, not at all subtle). I grabbed my bright green Crocs (just to tastefully finish off my ensemble) and ran after Him Next Door’s car – waving G9s trainers in the air. Him Next Door didn’t look back. Hyperventilating I ran back home, grabbed our car keys and raced up the road. I tore past Him Next Door, who was just starting to drive back. I stopped the bus by waving like a mad women. The bus driver opened the door. I don’t think my attire helped allay his fears that he was indeed about to be attacked by a mad women. Meanwhile I tried to forget what I was wearing. “Grace” I called. “Yes” she replied. She didn’t move. “Grace” I called again, but this time in a higher tone and through gritted teeth, “Could you possibly come here?” 18 pairs of eyes were glued to the spectacle that was me. I handed her the trainers and then as inconspicuously and as quickly as possible retired to the sanctuary of the car.

Back home I asked Him Next Door what time was she being dropped back at the bus stop. “I don’t know and I’m a bit worried that the bus was heading towards Clarbeston Road.” (Clarbeston Road is in the opposite direction to Ysgol Preseli). Double cripes. I phoned Grace’s primary school and spoke to the caretaker who was most helpful (even with an idiotic parent on the line; rambling on and speaking pigeon Welsh). He didn’t have any definite answers.

Where is G9?  What time will she be coming home?

The colours of my 'subtle' dressing gown....

Maths

At one of the first parent's evenings I attended once we'd moved to Wales, G9's teacher remarked how good she was at reading, language work, writing etc.  I was bursting with pride.  But then the bubble burst.  She was not so hot at Maths.  Pretty bad in fact.  Hmmm, could this be my fault?  It's not my forte either.

Her Next Door suggested Maths-Whizz.  G9 already loved all things computer so it would be a natural medium for her.  The site is bright, clear, cheerful and it is UK based with gloriously familiar British accents.

To begin with G9 completed an assessment to calculate her "maths age" (a concept similar to reading age) and which also determined all her strengths and weaknesses.  G9 had to do this alone, but if she got tired she could close the program down and come back to the assessment at the place she'd left off.  Once completed the program then structured the activities at an appropriate level for her.

The activities are short, starting with a quick lesson teaching the material, followed by ten or so problems to practice the concept. If a problem is incorrectly completed, additional help is provided to help G9 understand how to complete it. There is also a Report Error button if you believe that they, at Maths-Whizz have it wrong. 

At the end of each activity the program provides a five-problem test to check for mastery. The tests are usually just a bit harder than the activities and in a similar format.  We usually complete both the activity and corresponding test together and would make sure we had at least 20 quiet minutes to do them in, although the length of time required of course depends on the difficulty of the concept.   The Maths-Whizz Tutor continually assesses and adjusts the level accordingly for G9.

If you have been on the computer for too long in Maths-Whizz you get a pop up message along the lines of, "You have done enough today.  Think about stopping."  The majority of students should spend 45 to 60 minutes per week on Maths-Whizz; little and often rather than very long sessions.

The program sends you a progress report and G9 herself like to see how she is doing in her "maths age".

There is also a "bedroom" fun section that lets G9 use credits she's earned on activities for fun things to do, such as painting the room, playing games, or buying pets and food; the animals have to be fed every time G9 goes on. In the holidays they have extra games.  15 credits are awarded for an exercise and 30 for a test. 

G9 is now doing very well.   At my last parent's evening they said of G9's Maths progress, "Whatever *you are doing, keep doing it."  She is no longer in the bottom group.  It may be expensive, but for a remote community and something we can do in small size bites that is presented in a child friendly interesting way, I can't speak highly enough of it.

*You really means Her Next Door.

Wood pile

I was galvanised into (supervising) action by reading littlegreenblog.

Him Next Door has been raring to go and worried about our log reserves since before we started using last winter's store.  We are lucky and have an abundant supply of logs to hand as we have common land trees next to our garden, which we help manage.  I was quite shocked to find that even wet softwood logs can cost from £70 per 1m3.  The price only goes up with quality and dryness, about £130 for kiln dried.  1m3 wouldn't last long at all. 

Our main problem is that the logs are still attached to the growing trees.  The job of lobbing off and then pulling up branches from the rather steep valley is very firmly in the domain of the men of this clan.  Thank goodness for the ride on mower, which doubles as a miniature haulage vehicle.  Once the branches have been brought to the top of the valley the mower is used again, complete with a trailer made from an old plastic container fortified with a wood frame.  The cut logs are carried using the trailer to their penultimate resting place, the wood store.

Our wood resource - free, bar the labour.

Him Next Door recently built a second wood store, which is much nearer the house than the old one.  The old one now stores wood that we have acquired or can reuse and that is perfectly good for DIY projects in the future.

Our new wood store.

We (that's the royal we) need to continue filling our new store, which goes three logs deep, to see us out this winter.  At least now we're half way there.

Mother Love

This week's topic from Sticky Fingers is Mother Love.  Through the beaming smiles the picture below says it all, taken at my Gran's 100th birthday party; she is flanked by her three loving daughters.

Here is a poem that was read to Gran by her daughters, grandchildren and great grandchildren as part of her birthday celebrations.

Hectic

Life has been a little hectic this last week or so with my Gran going into hospital.  Trying to organise our extended family so we always manage to attend the visiting hours has been something of a juggling act, added to that J is having to travel away for work at the end of this week, so we are a car and a man down.

Her Next Door drives, but only really when she has to. The hospital is 10 miles away, so it is quite a trek with dodgy bends and people daring to either go in the same direction or approach her from the other way.  Did I mention she is a nervous driver...  The car park of the hospital itself seems to have very slim parking bays and it is continuously full to the brim. Which rather puts her off.  So whilst J is manning work Him Next Door and I tend to do the driving shifts for one of the twice daily visiting sessions.  J helps out with the odd evening and when needed at the weekend, although we have lots of other family visitors also sharing the load then. This is a great help as at least for the weekends it affords us natives of The Booth some 'down' time.

Added to the mix is making sure G9 gets to all her after school activities - although we are failing a bit at the latter end of this week when we only have the one car available.  My wonderful friend Preseli Mags is helping us out on Wednesday and Friday, so Wednesday it means Her & Him Next Door make it on time for the afternoon visiting session and on Friday G9 will not miss Brownies at least.

Where would we be without supportive family, friends and neighbours I ask myself.

Sadness

The rudder of our little ship is not so well.

Edith, Mum, Gran, Great Gran - 100 years young.

We all love you, get better soon - please.  xxx

UPDATE 15/03/11
Whilst I was at fy nosbarth Cymraeg my Mum and Dad went hospital visiting. Gran had not been so bright when I saw her in the afternoon but when I got home after my class I received this pleasant surprise...

Her Next Door reported that Gran was much better this evening than she has been since being in hospital. No more oxygen mask (still just little pipes of oxygen in to her nose) and she even had her wagging finger out, telling Her Next Door to buy her some nighties but not from M&S, Peacocks would do! She has also requested a full biscuit tin (of course she never snacks on these ;) ), some Eau de Cologne so that she can smell lovely and a hair comb (she's trying to impress the young male physio I think).
 
Simply amazing.

Joining in...

I had in my mind's eye when we moved that we would join in.  It was mentioned to us a few times that we really should; often dire warnings of ignoring this good advice were made explicit. 

"Oh you will be OK as long as you enter into the spirit of things and don't ever turn down invitations." 

...or worse...

"You know what the Welsh are like and they really don't like the English."  Nudge, nudge, wink, wink.  "Hope you've packed a fire extinguisher." 

These comments from parochial well wishers simply confirmed that our decision to move was the right one.  We had always intended to join in as really it would be a bit shortsighted of us to move somewhere new and then promptly insulate ourselves from the world.  You have to make an effort to make new friends.  This was going to be home after all.

Never a more welcoming crowd could we have we met.  Cymru Am Byth!  A Barabrith was awaiting us on our arrival, left on the doorstep.  People have warmly invited us into their homes and plied us with food and wine. 

In our turn we help with looking after the common land (actually Him Next Door does most of the mowing), this Friday we have a community bonfire to burn all the chopping back we did earlier in the year.  We also go to fundraising events in the local community and support the school, village hall and local shop whenever we can.

We actually proactively fund raise for both the common land (Cadwraeth Llysyfran‏) and St Meilyr's Church, nestled at the bottom of the garden.  I am not particularly religious but believe I suppose essentially in Christian principles.  And the Church is truly beautiful and awe inspiring in its age and presence.  You wonder what those walls have witnessed in their time.

From my involvement in the immediate community was born the website http://www.llysyfranchurch.co.uk/.  My little bit of giving. 

140 Christmas Cards sold so far...

Life changes

It struck me the other day when Him Next Door took G9 out for a body boarding session at the beach.  They'd both acquired new wetsuits, G9 for her birthday and Him Next Door... well any excuse. He also had to get a body board, after all G9 had one!  They do say men never grow up.  This picture was made all the more pertinent as Him Next Door and G9 might never have met; when I was pregnant he ended up in hospital and had a triple bypass.  It was a worrying time for us all. 

The plus side of his heart attack for G9 was that when he was recuperating he had more free time to spend with her, right from the moment she was born.  They used to go off walking with G9 stuffed in a 'back pack' gaily being fed cold mashed up food.  (She still likes cold cooked food now).  It is only because of Him Next Door does she love swimming so, he religiously takes her to the pool every week.  It is one of his favourite activities and he has passed this love on.  He helps with her violin practice too as he can play the organ; reading music is something neither of G9's parents can do.  They are so very close.  I think she is now his excuse to try anything new and he can back slide into childhood unnoticed and without comment.  All this activity keeping him fit and healthy, whilst in return G9 gains a wider breadth of life's experiences.

What a special relationship that benefits them both, one that will live on in G9's heart for all time.


Two peas in a pod

My Gran on the other hand is finding things more difficult.  Every day now she seems to regress a little more and needs a bit more care. Little things but it's always in some way detrimental to her quality of life. She has always been physically active and is very alert but has just announced that she no longer wants her hair permed as it takes too much out of her and she avoids her weekly bath - tending to coming up with lame excuses.  Gran now gets very, very out of breath so doesn't go further than five feet with her walking frame and although she takes her water tablets her feet are still ballooning and are very hard.  Her Next Door really needs help and has asked for it.  Lets hope she gets it and any help available isn't on the hit list of the local authority cuts.

The Aftermath.... an eclectic mix of thoughts

Well we seem to have survived the BIG party... but boy are we all exhausted.  And to top it all we have another six visitors arriving today, (J's brother and family).  I think I shall have to deploy some match sticks to hold my eye lids open. 

We are also dealing with various invasions of insects; ants and wasps to name but two.  It makes you realise that give them a year unchecked and your home would be over run with pests, vermin and various vegetation.  The Victoria Creeper on the front of the house needs a hair cut every other week this time of year, otherwise it really would literally creep into and over the house. 

We have also discovered that rats had been nestling in the loft in The Outback.  These are being dealt with but had only been noticed when the man to service the Rayburn popped his head up into the attic... "How many are there?" Her Next Door shrieked (in pure panic mode), but Boiler Man wouldn't commit himself, just grunted.  This vagueness of course toyed with her dark imaginings; we must have vast colonies up there she insists.  Although only the droppings have been sighted so far.

I also listened to the news last night about Nick Clegg's "suggestion box" and apparently there is still an archaic law that states as a British citizen you are supposed to report sightings of grey squirrels, well we'd be on the phone every half hour.  If there are any laws or regulations you'd like to do away with Nick invites you to comment, see http://yourfreedom.hmg.gov.uk/ for more on this - generally very interesting stuff.  I'm going to put my two penneth in.  Get involved or please don't moan about it.

Letter from The Queen (& Ian Duncan Smith AND The First Minister of Wales AND The Secretary of State for Wales).

Well it’s the morning of my Gran’s 100th. It’s the culmination of a lot of very, very hard work, mainly for Her Next Door. The ‘event’ starts today with Gran’s actual birthday and some people arriving to help us celebrate with an evening meal at Something’s Cooking (thank you Tony), the big party on Saturday through to the final people leaving Tuesday.

Unless you have ever organised a large ‘do’ it’s difficult to understand the amount of hard work that has to go in to it. So much to think about; invitations, organising who stays where (thank you to our neighbours who have been fantastic), talking to the B&Bs for those we just can’t accommodate, organising transport to and from the B&Bs, the venue, music, balloons, food, the cake (thank you Tracey), drinks, contingency plans if it rains, organising the letter from the queen, publicity.

The list is endless. Her Next Door has not been sleeping very well either as she keeps waking up with jobs to do churning round in her head.

We were going to just have an ‘open’ weekend all weekend, but in the end we managed to organise the Visitors Centre just across the way (only a few steps really) for the Saturday evening. Gran knows and likes it there. It has a disabled loo too, which at 100 is important! I personally was quite keen to do this for three primary reasons:-

1) firstly and most importantly in my eyes it gives Her Next Door a few hours off, once she is there she can relax and let others pour drinks and sort out the food. She too can really enjoy the actual party.
2) if it does rain we have one large room where we can all gather and mingle.
3) it gives a focus to the celebrations; everyone getting ready, changed, expectant for the main event.

Initially Gran herself was not so keen on a large get together. She finds it difficult to hear what you are saying to her when in a large crowd, with lots of others talking in the background. But recently she has said that she is really looking forward to it now. There are some people coming that she has not seen in an awfully long time and very, very nearly all of her family will be there. Sixty two in total.  There is one very dear man who won’t be able to come, but I am sure Granddad is looking down on us. We miss him, Gran most of all.

Today and Saturday though will be two extra special days, remembered and treasured by us all.