A Day out for an EGG

It seems we group of ex-green gymmers now have the name 'EGGS'... a good bunch... good eggs... adventurous and game for anything!

Yesterday, we went to Broughton Castle in north Oxfordshire. It being one of the few ancestral homes that still remains in the hands of the original family... Sele and Sayte. It had a really good, still lived-in feel about it, having escaped the trappings of that wonderful organisation; The National Trust.

Pictures of Oliver Cromwell adorned the walls, as did pictures of Queen Ann and others. Although the family sided with Cromwell, they quickly accepted the return of Charles II (as one would in difficult times). Original plated armour, leather buckets, swords, pikes and artefacts adorn the Castle and as I gazed out of this window before taking the picture, I could imagine the Cromwellian soldiers riding down the green sloping pasture land towards the Castle. I really wish, (along with thousands of others) that I could be an invisible time traveller. Ah... if only I could afford to enrol on an archaeology course! I just love digging in the dirt!

One of our team didn't come with us... she had been in contact with someone with Swine Flu and was beginning to develop symptoms...

I think I really must get my Will sorted!

Death from Application forms

Yesterday, I spent all the daylight hours trying to complete an online application form for a college lecturer's post at a college many, many miles away! Today, I ask why?

I lost the will to live several times throughout the day. No I can't remember the exact start and end dates of jobs ten years' ago. No, I don't have the post code of Southampton University; No, I didn't work between Dec 04 and now because it's no-one else's bloody business!

I came out of the web page, and was then sent a special code by email for me to resume the application form later! Neck and back aching from a badly positioned screen and chair, I sipped my extra strong coffee and asked myself out loud, "Do I really want to go back to being a Lecturer?" In my heart I heard a resounding 'No'. "Do I want to earn some money?" 'Yes'! So, what can I do to earn some money??

I asked two of my daughters to tell me honestly what my qualities and skills were - in their opinion - and told them not to hold back... even the negative thoughts would be good for me! Their responses surprised me; I was in tears... real, emotive tears. It was a defining moment... I had no idea they viewed me in the way they did!

There were no negatives... I seem to have qualities and skills I hadn't realised. Has it helped me decide what I want to do? No. I'm even more confused now.

I think this must be my second mid-life crises... and what I really must get my head around is the fact that it's okay to have these times, and that it's okay not to work, and it's okay to just potter around and do whatever my bank balance allows me to do.

Sod the application form... I'd rather take photos of my Hollyhocks!

Help for Heroes... indeed, more help needed!

It was a damp but humid Saturday evening when a few of us rallied round and set up food and refreshments in the Woodstock Town Hall ready for the group of 20 or so Royal Engineers who were cycling on a seven-seater contraption in order to raise money for a rehabilitation unit for their injured comrades.

No Mayor..., and no deputy Mayor... where were they? A few Town Councillors and several 'old' soldiers and their wives. I think there could have been a lot more support for such self-sacrificing men...

My daughter, granddaughter and myself served wine to all who required it. Perhaps due to the damp weather, or otherwise, there was not the huge welcome the men of the Royal Engineers deserved. Woodstock, a wealthy Cotswold town not far from Oxford, remained sleepily silent except for the excellent work of a few councillors and helpers who thoughtfully made an effort!

I sat in the Mayor's chair within the ancient Town Hall and was asked by someone (not a councillor) if I'd be interested in running for Mayor next year... No, I don't live in Woodstock... I was only helping out a friend for the evening! Methinks Woodstock needs to have a talk to some of its current Councillors... and who knows... maybe a new Mayor would bring fresh thoughts?!

What would I know!!

Some you win, some you lose.

There's nothing like suddenly coming to the rescue of a wild creature to take your mind off your lonely little existence!

I awoke two mornings ago thinking that the birds were unusually loud this morning! As I reached the kitchen, rubbing my eyes and reaching for the kettle, there it was again, the loud chirp, chirp, chirp of a bird very close by! Yep, one of the cats had brought in a baby bird that was yelling its head off from behind my TV. I threw a tea-towel over it as it hopped over to the sofa and took it outside so that it's mum could do her bit and feed it. For three long hours I watched from behind the curtains, with the window ajar, listening to the chirp, chirp, chirp; not one bird replied or went near the little thing. He had almost all his feathers, except for the tail, so could hop, skip and flutter, but not fly properly. I got dressed and went outside, again with the tea-towel, brought him in, put him in a box with the tea-towel that he now thought of as his, and then dug up some worms and fed him. I spent nearly all day digging over my dry soil, trying to find worms and small slugs. By evening I was knackered, so at 8.30 pm drew the curtains in his room, said 'night, night' and was in bed by nine. I awoke at 5.30 am, dressed and rushed out to get some more worms, remembering that 'the early bird gets the worm'. As I rushed in with them in a pot, I thought that I'd not heard his chirping and thought perhaps he'd died. Sure enough, he was lying on his back with stiff little legs in the air! I'd failed!

Then this morning I awoke to find my elderly cat Banjo holding vigil next to the TV stand. Oh not again! There was a tiny mouse huddled in the corner. Mice I can deal with! I fetched the humane mouse trap, put in some low-fat Edam cheese, a few broken crackers (low fat and gluten free), and a few chopped nuts. Removing the cat from the room I went to have breakfast. Sure enough, within just minutes the mouse was in the trap munching away. At last, success! I released the little creature down the lane and under a hedge... with the cheese etc. It felt good to have saved a creature. I just hope that I wasn't responsible for the demise of the baby bird... perhaps I overfed it? Perhaps they were the wrong sort of worms? Or, perhaps it had injuries that I didn't know about?

Some you win... and some you lose. I did my best, but still feel that I've failed.

Stir Crazy

I've got through the first three years which have been at times, bloody and soul-destroying, leaving me drained and exhausted after many hours of crying. I turned a corner a few months ago... one of many corners, there being more than four sides to grief. I began to live again, breathe again and look at my little surrounding world with renewed eyes and an awakening mind, packing away the actress in me that has fooled so many for so long.

Then, along came two virus's and various secondary infections, which are still present and leaving me tired. Whether it's the illnesses, or time of year, or the fact that as an eternal optimist, it's time for another reality check to put me back in my place and make me realise that my little life is not actually going anywhere!

I've tried Jive classes, art classes, volunteering and a Gym. I've been chatted up by various little men, some, probably all, married. Perhaps I'm trying too hard and should just accept that this is how it is now, and it won't get much better! I've got a home, a car and two cats. I have a few friends and lovely daughters... what else is there? It's just that I still feel that something is missing! Maybe I shall always feel that something is missing! I should just stop still and stop wanting change!

Bereavement experts would've probably said this is yet another stage... And, I ask, just how many more sodding stages can there be??

The latest watercolour effort was sat on by Banjo my cat while I'd left it out to dry. I think she has improved it!

Yobs and Low Life galore!

Do I attract these amoebic forms of life towards me? I'm talking about being shouted abuse at by some passing cyclists... two youths carrying gardening tools (makes a change from knives), who just launched into a tirade of language at me, for no reason. Luckily I was in my car, and for a moment, almost veered over as they cycled toward me, which would certainly not have killed them... but they would have ended up in the muddy stream.

I asked at the Post Office if two boys, with bikes and gardening tools had called in... and yes, they had, and yes, everyone knew their names, and their parents who all live unhappily in this little village.

An elderly man said his allotment had been vandalised by the same two boys, losing him weeks, months of hard graft and produce.

Another elderly woman said they had approached her as she was walking to the shop and shouted abuse in her face, calling all sorts of derogatory names... you can imagine! I asked if anyone had reported them... and all shook their heads... "Naw, not worth it... nothing will get done!" And I thought, what a sad indictment of the state of our society and it's faith in our law enforcement.

So much for the village getting so upset about the Travellers' camp a mile away... I think the villagers ought to sort out their own problems!

Now where did I put my father's air gun???

PS. Hogday... can I borrow your mate - he with the balaclava and big muscles? No, must not go down the vigilante route... who knows where it would end??

Wisley Magic

A great day at Wisley... but what is the magnificent growth in the picture I hear you ask... I had to look twice and for a moment it reminded me of something that I couldn't quite put my finger on!! Yes, a Banana! It was very hot and humid in the newly built glass house and I had to take off my coat and take a few deep breaths of the humid air in the hope that my chest would improve!

Five ladies came away laden with goodies from the plant shop... it's an age thing... like a drug addiction!

Next week it's off to another place... deep in the Cotswolds, with Tea and Cakes and yes, more much needed middle-aged supplies of drugs, er plants, to buy. It's a poor substitute for an active sex life... but still brings a smile to my face!