This is for a courageous American - Charlie

That went well contd.

Worried about my bulging suit-case I packed early in the morning squashing everything into a pulp; there were presents now to include. I managed to zip it up with its extra pleat let out. Later I found I had forgotten to include my fashion boots which I had brought for our dinner out, and then didn’t bother to change.

Even later when it was too late to do anything about it, I found, due to a last minute change of travel wear, I had left my new jacket in the wardrobe. I told me DIL not to bother to send it but to bring it in February when they visit. One thing I’ve noticed when the temperature drops one’s interest in fashion declines in favour of warm comfy clobber.

My DIL called out the taxi was here and I rose hastily and fell over an invisible table. Nothing damaged but my dignity. We left my case in the fashion shop where J works part-time and then met her 87 yr old Mother for lunch – the train wasn’t till 1.33pm. B is a game old girl but very deaf so we had a very shouty lunch and other customers seemed transfixed whilst B told us how she had managed her diabetes for 17 years but had a weakness for chewing chicken skin and pork scratchings.

We managed to persuade her not to come with us to the station – it was brass knob weather and bade her a fond good bye. I had been delaying spending a penny until the station and found to our utter disgust the loos were locked and also the waiting room. We huddled in a tiny shop and were handed leaflets to complain. Fortunately for us the shop was actually staying open till 2pm. I felt sorry for the pretty lady who popped her head round the door and said – with a lovely smile – she had to get to Kent.

J my DIL was an absolute brick, refusing to go until she had literally put me on the train. There didn’t seem any point in finding my reserved seat so I sat in one near the luggage. I had to change trains at Westbury and a youngish woman insisted on carrying my bag off and on the next train. I was so surprised – we hadn’t spoken and she had her own luggage. I told her I could lift it but she said it was dangerous with the gap. I must say when she helped me on the Taunton train I felt a bit weepy it was

so kind.

MTL and his daughter were there to meet me and I never stopped talking on the drive home. The house was beautifully warm, tea was quickly brewed and all was prepared for dinner. All the trains had been on time – congrats Great Western, and also for that spotless loo. I’m glad I made the effort, so thankful that it all went well and oh so glad to be home again

I've always found this a very emotive song - especially at this time of year.

Charles I King playing Blue Grass and Celtic music delightfully

An obelisk like Charistmas tree.

Alas Santa has lost his head!

That went well.

On Monday we went to see the chemo consultant and after a short question and answer session he pronounced himself pleased with MTL’s progress so far. Apparently he has 8 x 3 week cycles (1 cycle is 2 weeks chemo, one week off) so five and a half months in all approx, but if there are any unpleasant side effects they stop and adjust. We see him again in January and around Easter he’ll have tests to see how effective the treatment has been.

We then – having established that MTL’s daughter was on the Taunton train – separated and I boarded a train for Warminster with a change at Westbury. MTL met his daughter who had travelled from Norfolk, and they went home to Minehead. So far all the trains and connections were on time.

J, my DIL was waiting at Warminster with her grand daughter. It was bitterly cold so we took a taxi to her home. Much colder than Minehead and some snow was still lying. Over tea and cake my DIL’s DIL arrived with the newest granddaughter. Her mother said she was shy with strangers so I got on the ground with my legs splayed out on either side. I have always done this with little ones then they can make up their own mind if they want to get closer. Eventually she held her arms out to me and her mother planted her in my arms.

It seems this is a position I can no longer hold for any length of time and I had to be relieved of the baby, helped up and deposited on the sofa where I could comfortably hold her. Eventually the young left and my son and grandson got in from work. J had cooked a delicious stew with dumplings – great for warming the cockles. I was intrigued to hear she had done it in a slow cooker which turned out to be one I had had 40 years ago. At that time I preferred a pressure cooker for stews. I love it when things are used for years. I’ve never been comfortable with the throw away society.

They have four cats – two sets of brothers – one pair about 15 and the other 4 years of age. Remembering their names and matching then to the right cat took some concentration and it was interesting to hear about their different personalities. George, the eldest usually slept on my bed but graciously agreed to sleep on J and A’s bed instead. To cut down on luggage J had lent me a warm dressing gown. It was a fleecy faux leopard skin job and I was a dead ringer for Bet Lynch in Coronation Street.

Next day – my son had taken the day off – we drove to Salisbury. J had a routine appointment at the hospital so we had three hours or so to fill. I was thankful we were not walking as Salisbury Plain looked bleak and hostile and I pitied any poor Squaddies out doing exercises. Frustrating in M& S I daren’t buy anything. My push – pull suitcase was full to bursting and it took all my strength lifting it on the train and trying not to fall down the gap. I made an exception when I saw a make- up base I had been told was no longer available.

My son is a bad influence: he told me to meet him outside in 10 minutes time. I never eat between meals, I never eat in the street and I never eat chips, yet 10 minutes later I was doing all three with gusto. Than we found one of those coffee shops with sofas and arm chairs and after our coffee arrived my son handed me a contraband Jaffa cake bar which he said had my name on it. We stared out of the steamy windows at crowds braving the icy sleet doing Christmas shopping – enjoying music from a street player - a banjoist playing Blue Grass and Celtic – quite delightful. A was familiarising himself with a new camera which was shaped like a tube. He planned to interview me about family stuff when we returned home – rather like I did with my mother.

Later as we were walking through the hospital and climbing stairs to the next level A drew my attention to a middle aged lady – a voluntary worker selling sweets.

‘Doesn’t she look like Cousin Julia? I’m going for a closer look.’

It all seemed highly unlikely to me so I continued up the stairs whilst A ran down for a closer look. When he returned and said yes it was Julia neither J nor I believed him as he is a great kidder. On leaving the hospital A said he would just go and say goodbye to Julia and then J said,

‘He’s kissing her – it must be Julia!’ It was and then we were all kissing and hugging. She was from my first husband’s side of the family and the last time I remember seeing her she was a very precocious little girl who used to keep us in stitches. Not surprising I didn’t instantly recognise her.

When we got back home the time flew. A did the interview – interrupted by a phone call from MTL to make certain I would be home the next day and then we went to A’s favourite Indian restaurant. I woke up at 2.30 am with the light on and my book unopened – must have been that extra glass of wine. Enough droning on – I’ll finish this later.

These photos didn't come through first time. Sorry.

Girls just want to have fun - especially in their sixties

Hats off to Felicity(bendy) Kendal, Pamela Stephenson and Ann Widdecombe for joining in the marathon of Strictly Come Dancing

Back at the end of the week