Why we punish ourselves

Good question! We all do and then we wonder why. I played a mixed doubles tennis match against a local club. It was a league match so the points count. The weather was hot by UK standards and I was confident we would win as we played the same club in ladies’ doubles a couple of days before and won really easily.

After four hours on court, my partner Tony and I had won two sets and lost two sets. Stalemate. The other partnership in our team got their games over really quickly. They lost but had plenty of time to sit in the shade and recover before the swap over. In retrospect, a much more sensible way to go. We would have been quicker had the opposition not kept hitting the ball back. I don’t think there were more than a couple of games that didn’t go to deuce. That night, “deuce” became a nightmare trigger.

By the end, the opposition man said he had strained his groin and his partner looked exhausted. I pretended I had enough in me to keep going but the truth was, I too was knackered. I got home flopped on the sofa and then couldn’t get up. I really couldn’t get up. I knew this would be the case – I’d be full of cramp and too stiff to move -  but I still wanted to win. Errr

Suffice to say, I am now fully recovered. I completed my 75 mile swim this week too and have already made inroads into the next 75 miles. Between travel, guests and illness I have managed this distance since 20^th March. Sometimes, I get really drained by a 3km swim, especially when I do them back to back on consecutive days. Again, why do I do it?

Doug-an inspiration

Actually, I think I have an inkling. My cousin, Doug, and Louise his daughter, popped over from Australia for a visit and came to my place on Monday. Doug is 80, looks fifty and has more energy than me. I don’t want to slow down and not be able to do things. I reckon if I keep going, I’ll keep going just like Doug. He is an inspiration. So from now on, every twinge, every ache has a silver lining. I’ve just got to keep putting one step in front of another till they carry me out feet first kicking and screaming! Way to go!

A great reason for being around!

 

 

 

Named!

Mattaya

At nearly two weeks old our latest addition to the family has a name – Mattaya Gillian Hilda Mead. Danielle and Richard have dug into family names to create this and it is rather nice. At one point I was worried I would have a Disney princess for a granddaughter. Mostly I am glad that I can call her more than “baby” or “It”.

Ascott House

The grounds

While Danielle and Richard were stewing over a name, I have been out and about in the summer sun. Jeff from Malaysia came to stay for a few days. We did the touristy bits round my area. Not normally on most people’s tourist trail, we did the orchard. He had no choice but to come down to lend a hand apple picking. Then he had no choice but to chop up a barrel load of apples in preparation for cider making. He will not be around for the tasting – sorry Jeff! He is probably already sending warning messages out to tell people that a visit to my place means work, walking and possibly having to watch tennis too.

On a gloriously sunny day we did the National Trust property, Ascott House, near Wing. Obviously, I had driven past so many times but I had never been to view it. It really is a little gem that was once in the hands of the De Rothschilds’. Unlike most NT properties, you could imagine living in it. It was quite cosy. From the gardens you could see the lion too.

The weekend was a blur. The Cosgrove Canal Festival was heaving. Main Street in my village was chokka with traffic and the canal tow path was busier than Oxford Street. So busy that I had to weave my bike round people to get to Wolverton.

The Brave Maruders with Busker Bernard and their Ghost Ship- unseen

Setting up

At the Wolverton Community Orchard, we held the Summer Celebration. Besides the beer and burgers, teas and homemade cakes we had singing pirates, crafts and all the usual gumph. The good weather and company made it special. Ezra-Mae loves these occasions – don’t we all!

 

 

 

 

Special Delivery

A special delivery- no name!

Last Monday, 8^th July, Danielle finally gave birth to a beautiful baby girl. I am so pleased, relieved, exhausted but mostly happy that everything has gone well this time. The baby doesn’t have a name as yet, but I am sure by the time she is ready for school that aspect will be sorted! She was 9lb 1oz at birth so she is more bowling ball than baby!

While Danielle was in hospital, Ezra-Mae stayed at my place. She made herself quite at home and, because Uncle Sammi was here as well, she got spoilt by both of us. On Monday afternoon when Danielle was having her C-section, Sammi took her to IKEA to play in the kiddies area. We can honestly say that we went to IKEA and got a new baby!

As soon as we got the news, we were at the hospital ready to see Danielle being wheeled back to the ward so I saw my latest addition at less than an hour old – what joy! All the anxiety of being in the same place where Hope was born disappeared. Ezra-Mae is pleased her baby sister is not going to go away like the snowman. However, she has already said she is not sharing her toys!

A very tired big sister

So, with visiting time over we set off for Tesco to get something to wet the baby’s head! All alcohol in the store is now behind a glass cabinet that you have to unlock. What a palaver! It takes an age just to buy the stuff. First of all, I pressed the button to unlock the cabinet on the left but the one I wanted to break into wouldn’t open. I realise this is a system designed for a right-handed world. Errr.  One could keel over with frustration leave alone dehydration! It brought to mind the rules in Alice Springs. The bottle-o there is open just for a few hours, three days a week.

Now life has settled down to my humdrum routine of tennis, swimming and cycling once more. On Friday, while I was swimming,  the old dears in the pool were doing their Aquacise to “Football’s coming home” -  clearly the whole country has THE BUG! The last time we did as well as this at football we had a Labour government- a causative link perhaps. 

To be honest we should just accept our part in inventing the game and then teaching the world to play it better than us. Did we really think we would win?

At home, my house is especially quiet, hair-free from having no dogs, and I think that all the stuff brought by Sammi and E-M is now back with them too. Or is it? I am sure there will still be something lurking in a corner somewhere – a forgotten sock, perhaps!

A Week of Great Anticipation

Trip hazards

So now Britain is Labour and we have a new PM. It was a landslide victory with only 35% of the British public voting for Labour candidates. Where else in the world could this happen, I wonder. Where I live remains staunchly Tory territory. This is a small, blue island in an ocean of red.

Locally, apart from letter drops for all the prospective candidates nothing outwardly advertised the forthcoming election apart from a painted wooden sign on the winding road to my village telling me to vote for Ian McCord. There, stood a badly-painted Union Jack the size of a barn door and the graphics looked as if they had been designed by a six year-old. When it rained, the Union Jack got washed away and only the name remained. If that was all that Mr McCord could muster to advertise himself, thank God he was an also-ran.

On the home front, Danielle entered the last gasp part of her pregnancy. Sophie arranged a lovely little baby shower and I joked that she should also have hot water and towels on standby at this late stage. Contractions started while we were there – no need for the towels though we did need a plan B. We took Danielle down to MKUH for a scheduled scan and then I kept Ezra-Mae with me. I told Sophie we would slow down to second gear and push Danielle out of the car when we got to the hospital. Sophie was worried, Danielle wasn’t– a family joke!

Ezra-Mae was worried. She likes to know what is happening and I couldn’t tell her as I didn’t know. There were complications with our arrangements as we had to take into account Hoover delivering a fully-operational washing machine that afternoon at a fourth attempt. I was tempted to take bets on whether the washing machine or the baby would arrive first.

The washing machine won! Now I have Ezra-Mae, Sammi, two dogs and Uncle Tom Cobley staying with me. All has been going well - mostly! Only one small incident is worth retelling. On Saturday morning in torrential rain I got ready to take the dogs for their morning walk. Ezra-Mae didn’t have a raincoat, so I gave her a little umbrella. It was all she could do not to put it up indoors but when we did get into the rain, she refused to hold it.

I stood outside in the road, the dogs were pulling in two directions, E-M was in full strop and refused to hold the umbrella up, my hands were full with the two dogs. I told her to get indoors. She refused. Sammi took her. I could hear her crying as I walked the dogs up the road.

I got soaked despite wearing a raincoat, and returned to a very sad little girl who just wanted to be with Nana. Even now she is telling me I left her and it made her sad. I have told her she should have held the umbrella up as Nana asked. Things would have been OK then.

So today is the day. Danielle is having a C-section…. What anticipation! 

Our Beautiful Land

Beautiful Stony Stratford 

There really is no better place than Britain when the sun is shining. This year I appreciate it more than ever as we have had such a wet start to the year. The sun makes me happy, and I don’t need to sit in it to feel it either.

Tuesday, as ever, I was back at the Orchard after my long trip. In the time I was away, the trees have become heavy with fruit – most of which is yet to ripen. The birds are aware of this too and are making the most of this window of opportunity. We picked some low-hanging cherries and then went on to the logan bush, the redcurrants and the gooseberries. Here the early rains have brought dividends. The fruit is really plump and juicy!

Ironically, we are now almost into drought. The ground is so hard it is difficult to break so my plans for the allotments will just have to wait. I’d need a pneumatic drill to make my mark. Even my garden is dry as a bone. My lavender has died and even my olive tree looks parched. What a crazy world we live in with the climate crisis.

Saturday, I went off for a long bike ride along the cycle paths of MK. For me, these are the most wonderful part of the new city. Each settlement in MK has its own park and playground area – few of which were inhabited by people on Saturday morning  - this surprised me. Remembering my time in Singapore, Bukit Timah Hill, and the Green Corridor were more like Piccadilly Circus at the weekends. It seemed like everyone had taken to walking in nature at the time I was living there.

Mine and surrounding villages are fighting to keep developers from converting the countryside to warehousing. I personally can’t see the sense in doing this as there are already enormously large warehouses on the roundabout south of MK, others by the M1 and also on the A5 this side of Dunstable. How many do we need? Nonetheless, we are fighting to save our bit of countryside. Saturday night was a fundraiser for the cause. What better way to save a few fields than dance and drink the night away! 

Having fun - all for a good cause

Ezra-Mae has spent a lot of time with me this week. She had a sleepover and then, earlier in the week I had Ezra-Mae and Shadow for the morning. We went round the village for a walk. Ezra-Mae said: “Good Morning” to everyone and even quacked at the ducks. She is so happy communing with nature – long may it last. I have told her she is no longer My Little Treasure. She is My Slightly Bigger Treasure now!

Welcome Home

I’m back! And, being back it seems like I was never away really. I came home to a jungle in my back garden and immediately started hacking the plants back from the path. The tree that Sammi pollarded is sprouting and the white fly have got a grip on some of the plants. Just one month and my eye is off the ball.

Ezra-Mae walking the plank

The flights from Darwin to Singapore are laborious. Yet, when you finally do get home there is a residual energy that carries through the day enough to get the washing done, sort out mail, do the shopping, book appointments…. Endless trivia that is part of the humdrum.

I had, in the bunch of letters, a note from the Post Office to say they tried to deliver a parcel on June 3^rd and then a tick on it to say they would deliver it on Tuesday. Not sure which Tuesday as there isn’t a parcel. I checked the website. I don’t have a reference on the note to find where my parcel is, so I phoned. I don’t have a reference to get anywhere with phoning either. I spoke to a rude, disinterested employee after a long wait and a  “yes/no” chatbot conversation.

I went to the Post Office in Central MK. I needed to talk to someone. I was given an address to go to the sorting office. I drove there in a hurry as I was told it closes at 2pm. It closed at 10am. Errr. A helpful chap told me that my letters don’t get sorted in South MK so I needed to go to another sorting office. That too was closed. I am now out of time to pick up any parcel as it is returned to sender in 21 days. Welcome Home!!!

It seems nothing works smoothly over here. Danielle’s washing machine broke down before I left for Australia and after three attempts to deliver a new one from Hoover, she now has a functioning machine with a big dent in it. Hoover couldn’t even get the delivery time right, so I had to be at her place to be in receipt of the dented model.

Dent!

I had Ezra-Mae to look after the day I got back as well. She was really pleased to be over with me and didn’t stop. She sprayed my sticky white fly with washing up liquid really thoroughly. We went to the park to climb and swing, then back home I washed her, read her a book and got her to sleep. Danielle picked her up and got her home. I was exhausted. Totally!

So now I need a holiday. This one I need in order to recover from the previous one. Also, the days are getting shorter from hereon. I feel crushed like a well-heeled packet of Tim Tams! Just a few more things to do before I start planning! Hey Ho.

From the land of discarded trolleys to Darwin

We set off on a Greyhound bus to Alice Springs via Coober Pedy. Driving through the interior makes one realise how incredibly vast Australia is. The journey was an overnighter so we saw the sun come up over the desert along the way. We were warned from all sides how Alice Springs is a dodgy place - it has the highest crime rate in Australia apparently. 

The town is small, poor and slow-paced. The population is made up of indigenous people who sit along the street in the town centre and watch the world go by. All over the town are discarded supermarket trolleys. There was even one outside the hotel! Despite exploring and trekking across a dry Todd River and legging it up the hill in the Botanic Gardens, I really didn't do much. 

The hotel in Alice had a lovely pool where I could really swim. It was refreshingly cold and probably because I did really swim I  now have the mother of all colds. I am not sure whether swimming in a cold pool gave me the cold but I am now in Darwin and suffering. Sympathetic friends would help with my suffering in my hour of need! (only joking) and the shiraz has kept my throat oiled - Thank you, Moe! 

As there were limited things to do in Alice the evening we hung around the hotel. This hotel could have been in any city in any country - quite soul-less. The food from the restaurant we ate at was positively mediocre. No stars for that meal. However, with all holidays, you take the rough with the smooth and the ups with the downs too.  

My time in Alice was slow moving. I reflected how life is over here. The language is creative. Most words end with a vowel sound - Barbie, chucka rightie... and Mcdonalds has a schwa over here. Their swearing has depth and variety... Moe has been teaching me some more useful terms while I have been putting this together.  So I am telling him here and now; I'm not here to F**K spiders I need to get this written.

The newsreaders on TV wear their hair as if it is a helmet. Their doesn't move even when they nod. Most odd. Then going through Downtown Darwin I spied Helmet Hairdressers. It really is a recognised style over here.

At the waterfront - relaxed bods and relaxed hairstyles

Sunset bubbles

Moe gets things ready!

In the hands of Moe and Eva the food quality has gone through the roof as has the shiraz consumption! We spent an evening watching the sun go down, drinking bubbly and having cheese. This was followed by homemade pizza back at base. Today after a swim down at the waterfront, we went off for some Asian food from one of the markets. I eyed the Singapore Noodles and knew that I couldn't possibly do it justice. Too much choice and too little time. 

And... so ends my adventure. England calls...