Skip to main content

Teenage dirtbag...

Words from a Bird.  Day 87

So it was the usual Saturday breakfast this morning.  We had decided that it might be good to try a different venue for a change, and all six of us trolleyed into Bill's.  No room in that particular inn, so off we went again, heading down Marlow High Street to Barouche, our usual stamping ground.  As we all trotted down the High Street, we resembled a sketch on the Benny Hill Show, with my mother up front, followed by the rest of us.  The only disappointing thing was that she wasn't wearing a skimpy nurse's uniform, and nobody had pinched her bottom.  She still managed a fair pace down the High Street though.  I think it's down to the siren call of the sausage sandwich...

For the second week running, breakfast was pretty good.  My sausage sandwich was served with unbuttered bread, which actually makes it more 'sausages slapped between two slices of bare bread' rather than an actual sandwich, but this was remedied with a butter side order.  (I piled it on in a fit of pique, which I'll probably regret tomorrow, but hey, I live life on the edge...)

After breakfast, it was a final visit to Nanny's house.  Having cleared the flat, the only space left to do was the shed.  This has been left till last for two reasons.

1.  It has been used as a dumping ground for the stuff coming out of the flat.

2. Spiders.....big spiders....

The shed had much to offer.....rubbish, crap and garbage, all covered with a liberal sprinkling of old spider webs and copious amounts of dust.  My sister and I did attempt to foist the tartan terror shopping trolley onto our mother, insisting that she should be thinking ahead, but she didn't find that funny for some reason. So instead, we filled it with all the bits and pieces we could and wheeled it out to the car for its last journey to the local tip.  We looked like a couple of down and outs as we pushed it down the road, the saucepans, broom head, rug and paintbrushes sticking out the top didn't help...

Having locked the shed up, it was time for a final goodbye to my nanny and her home, as I knew I wouldn't be back again.  I went through all the rooms, my fingertips touching the walls of the home she had loved.  I could see her in the kitchen with a plate of macaroons and chocolate rolls, and in the lounge with a cup of tea watching her great grandchildren playing on the rug.  She was in the dining room having her lunch with the Daily Mail listening to Jeremy Vine, and in her last few weeks tucked up in her bed, wishing us 'goodnight' as we tiptoed away.  As I walked out, I could see her so clearly, sitting in the sunshine her face tilted up to the sun.

All this and more, we'll remember.......

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

I can't stand the rain...

The bloody rain's back then...
I suppose that this is a blessing of some sorts as it means that my hosepipe will get a well earned weekend off, and the flowers won't be looking at me through the kitchen window, wondering whether there will be any chance of me getting off my derriere and giving them a drink sometime before the next millennium.  Talking of watering flowers, I haven't had any feedback from Mrs B next door as to the complete transformation of her front garden while she's been away.  I would imagine that after two glamorous weeks away, that she will have more than enough washing to do, and perhaps hasn't had the opportunity to do a full horticultural inspection as yet.
I finally got round to cleaning Charlie out yesterday afternoon. Armed with a bin liner and some sweet smelling multi surface cleaner, I gingerly opened the door.  Oh dear Lord....it is amazing just how much detritus eight adults can make over five and a half hours, and I soon realised that…

In da club...

Boy was I glad to see the end of this week.  What with the football, the weeping colleagues (just the male ones as the female variety were quite cock-a-hoop) and the incessant watering of myself as well as the allotment, my garden, and a neighbour's garden (a greenhouse, thirty tubs, four cacti, seven bowls of hedgehog water and a scoop of mealworms each day....in the hottest fortnight on record).  Throw into the mix some rather frustrating conversations with someone who shall go unnamed, I was very glad to leave Binland on Friday afternoon.
But there have been good things too.  And isn't that what life is about?  There's no point having good things if you don't have the bad to compare them to.
I spent a lovely two hours with the Mother on Thursday discussing plants, allotments and beetroot, and I'd like to think that the highlight of her afternoon was digging up a couple to take home for her dinner that night. Or maybe it was the contraband tomato I smuggled out …

I'm walking...

Having been knocked flattish by a sore throat and all of its accompanying delights, I was quite anxious as to whether I'd be able to rally for Schnauzerfest yesterday.  I'd pulled out all the stops with cakes and dog biscuits, and was desperate to do my favourite good cause justice.  

But oh happy day... I woke up yesterday feeling quite normal (stop laughing, you know what I mean) and I loaded the car and drove to Wittenham Clumps (yes, it's a real place!) Getting there early with Miss R and Mrs S we gave the dogs a quick walk before all the other walkers turned up.  The sky, which had been threatening an apocalypse, finally decided to show its good side, and the sun shone as we got ready for everyone else to turn up. 

Now I have been doing some serious whistle training with my two for the past month or so.  This basically means blowing a whistle and shaking a bag of cheese cubes, and I was optimistic about finally letting my two off so that they could run free with the res…