High-tech ice-cream

I’ve just had an old person’s run-in with technology. Margaret and I were in Cambridge to look after Julia, Aureliano and Florencia while Lucia received her doctorate. Carlos and Nidia had come across from Ecuador to see the ceremony. 

We met up outside King’s College first thing and we hired a punt on the river to amuse the children while the ceremony took place. 

They very much enjoyed the experience. We were punted by a chap called Ben, a student at Edinburgh and a former King’s, Ely student. 

He gave us lots of interesting history about the colleges and the children listened politely, but definitely became more alert when there seemed the risk of running down a duck or Ben bumping his head on the low bridges. 

Afterwards, they were all dining in King’s College (including the children) so Margaret and I were able to look around the shops and have some lunch. 

It was a scorching day and also my birthday, so I thought I’d treat myself to an ice-cream from this posh ice-cream shop. 

We went in, there were four people behind the counter and no-one was making eye contact. 

We spent a minute looking at the different flavours on display and talking about what I’d have and still no-one made eye contact or asked if they could help. 

Eventually I said: can anyone get me an ice-cream? 

The answer was that you have to order it on the screen. “Can’t I just tell you what I want?” 

“No.” 

“OK forget it.” 

“No, no sir, I’ll help you.” And the chap came around from behind the counter. “Press the screen to start, now select the ice-cream you like.” 

“I just want a cornet”. 

“OK, there are three sizes, which would you like?” The middle one was a ridiculous £7.45, but it was my birthday so I thought I’d push the boat out. 

“Now select the four flavours you'd like.” 

“I only want a cherry cornet! OK, this is ridiculous. I just want an ice-cream and you can’t just make one for me.” 

Point made, I left the shop ice-creamless. I’m all for technology, but only when it serves a useful purpose. This seems like a solution looking for a problem that doesn’t exist. 

We used the park-and-ride to get to Cambridge and we’ll probably do it again, now we’ve discovered it. Trumpington park-and-ride is just off the M11, it’s free to park and the buses run into the city centre every 15 minutes. They cost £3.50 return.

Playing with Alice

Alice has very imaginative play. She can create a world in her imagination and interact with it. I’ve not known any of my other grandchildren do it like her. Arthur would have a world, but he’d be the only one in it and he wasn’t open to suggestions, he’d just want to concentrate on doing what he was doing. Once, we had string balanced all across the ski chalet, so you couldn’t move from one side to the other without pulling some down (much to his anger). Alice takes ideas from film, TV and books and she loves having someone to play with. She sometimes wants to be in charge but will often take new ideas and spin them into the backdrop. I’ve successfully introduced Scary Cat, pirates and dinosaurs into games. Elsa, from Frozen is a popular character (always played by Alice) and she’s handy person to be because if the game’s getting a bit dull, you can always start freezing the other players. Often, I’m quite glad to be frozen like a statue so I can have a bit of a rest. We been doing a fairy story in Spanish in Spanish Plus the other week – los tres cerditos (three little pigs) and I thought I’d talk about the Big Bad Wolf (our game needed a baddie). Alice said she didn’t like the Big Bad Wolf because he was scary. I told he the story of the Three Little Pigs with the emphasis on the incompetent wolf and then I asked if she knew the story of Red Riding Hood. She did, she had a book and we rummaged though her library to find it so I could read it to her. She enjoyed it and then wanted to play Little Red Riding Hood. In this version, she was Elsa, I was the wolf and RRH was an invisible figment of our imagination. When she came walking through the woods, the plan was that Elsa would freeze her and then the BBW could catch and eat her. Today, we were playing with Lego/Duplo, little pots and water. The Duplo dog got stuck in the pot and, joking, I said “we need to call for Paw Patrol.” She seized on the idea. She was Sky, I was Ryder … Oh no, the dog (it’s Rubble, decides Alice) is stuck in the pot. We need Paw Patrol, let’s yelp for help. Pups to the Look-out. Sky, Rubble is stuck in the pot, use your winch to get him out. There’s some singing of the Paw Patrol anthem (with some variation because I can’t remember it) to set the scene, then Sky (Alice) arrives to pull out Rubble and everyone is safe. “Again,” says Alice and we repeat half a dozen times until there’s a game change. Now, the Lego horse is stuck on the table and his mummy can’t get to him. We need Paw Patrol, let’s yelp for help. Pups to the Look-out. Sky, we need you winch to lift the baby horse off the table and return him to his mother. Repeat six times, with no lapse of enthusiasm. The Paw Patrol song must be sung and Ryder has to go to the Look-out to brief the dogs… The loop is finally severed when it’s time to head for Thurmaston shopping centre.

Feeding Red Kites in the garden

Red Kite in the conifer

Margaret has been feeding red kites from the garden.

We’ve seen red kites become more and more common in the past few years and they seem to have usurped buzzards as the top carrion bird in the area.

They’re lovely to see – huge birds with forked tails, riding thermals around the village or patrolling low over houses in the hope of spotting something tasty. I’ve never seen them land anywhere near houses, although one has been sitting in a large conifer at the corner of Arkady’s property (the windmill). It’s been there several times and will sit for hours, probably digesting its latest meal.

On Sunday, June 29, Sam and Lucy staged a birthday party for Julia and she brought back some cake (a rather large slab). I did my best to eat it, but after a week, Margaret put it on the lawn for the birds.

She was staggered to see a kite swoop down and grab the cake and fly off. I honestly thought our garden would be too small for a bird of this size to dive in, grab and have enough room to fly up and away. They look so big close too and with their wings fully outstretched, it seems they could touch either side of the lawn. I certainly underestimated their flying abilities!

Since the cake grab, Margaret has put more food on the lawn and they’ve been back and taken it. She now buys them chicken wings and we’ve heard them crying (possibly saying “feed me”).

So, we’ve heard a call, and a kite is sitting in the conifer at the side of Maggie’s garden. Margaret has left a chicken wing and by the time she’s back in the house, it has swooped down and taken it.

Sometimes she goes out in the garden and hears them call. She does an imitation of their cry in response and goes to get a chicken wing. It does sound a bit bonkers, but it does work, and they’ve been fed almost every day for the past three weeks.

I have tried to video them, but they don’t play ball. However, I did manage to take this through the lounge window.

Auntie Pam died

Some sad, but not unexpected, news this week. My Aunt Pam, the youngest of my dad’s sisters has died, aged 91. Aunt Pam was certainly my favourite aunt when I was growing up. I always liked to spend time with her, and she seemed to be the member of the Rayner family that my mum was closest to. My dad was the eldest, followed by Joan and then, some years later, by Pam. The two sisters were lovely people and helped enormously after my mum died. Aunt Joan and her husband (Uncle Don) were the noisier couple by a long way, always kind to me, always great fun, but could be a little overwhelming. Aunt Pam and her husband Ken were both quiet, but no less fun. I also enjoying playing with their daughter Carole when I was smaller. Aunt Pam always had a dog, at least one cat and various other animals – rabbits, guinea pigs and, for a few years, a sparrow called Gavin, which was a rescued fledgling and lived in the house (a proper house sparrow). She was the last of that generation, which is sad and a little bit chilling because I am the generation closest to the end of the conveyor belt of life!

Spending time with grandchildren

 We have been spending lots of time with our grandchildren this week. It can be very hard work, but is joyful.

Every Monday, we look after Alice in Sileby. She goes to nursery on Tuesdays, Wednesdays and Thursdays and her other grandparents (Mikhael and Maryna) look after her on Fridays. We have developed a regular routine. We go to Thurmaston Shopping Centre around 10am and we go into Poundland, Marks & Spencer Foodhall and then Dunelm for lunch. Sometimes, we ring the changes with an additional visit to Next, Boots or Hobbycraft. In the afternoon, sometimes we go to Dobies garden centre and have an hour in the soft play area, see if we can find a robin and kill another couple of hours. It used to be handy when I had the Nissan Leaf because often it would need a charge to get me home, but the new Ariya has a much better range and so it’s not vital that we go.

Alice in Dunelm cafe

Before we go, Alice and I will often play a game. She has a very creative imagination and the games can get quite complex. Just lately, they have developed a Frozen theme (it’s her favourite film). If we’re lucky, we can often watch a film in the afternoon, which gives me chance to have a snooze.

This week, the morning game involved finding “the lizard” which I think was the fire spirit from Frozen II. It was loose in her bedroom and we had to find it. She doesn’t have a lizard, so I improvised with a little fluffy sun that we bought at the Space Museum and that worked quite well for a while. He started imaginary fires and she (playing the part of Elsa) put them out with magic icy blasts. I had to build her an ice palace by the bedroom door from cushions and seat pads. A few weeks ago, we were joined by “scary cat”. I’m not sure what role he was supposed to be playing (he was invisible to everyone except Alice’s imagination) and I was running out of things for him to do, so I said: “Oh no! Scary cat has done a poo on the carpet.” This was a huge success, he did about 10 poos and Alice and I took turns cleaning up the imaginary poo with imaginary spray and cloths. Since then, poos have become a regular feature in games.

“Oh no!” she cries. “Fire lizard has done a poo.” We have to change fire lizard’s pants and clean its bottom. Alice is well into her potty training now, but accidents aren’t unknown, so I consider this good role play. “Fire lizard must tell Grandy if it needs another poo …”

I find these games quite tiring mentally. It’s a bit like being a children’s entertainer without a script. One wrong move and you’ve lost your audience.

We did the usual Thurmaston run this morning and Alice was very happy with some new Nike trainers that Margaret had been given by a neighbour, Trish Winwright. In the afternoon, I’d hoped that we could watch Frozen II, but Alice wasn’t in the mood for television, she wanted to play. She had changed into her “Elsa dress” (a frilly party dress that Uncle Tom had bought for her birthday) and was back in Elsa mode.

She likes to play in her bedroom. Margaret carried her upstairs and then left us to it. I thought we’d pick up with Fire Lizard but, she decided the little sun toy wasn’t Fire Lizard, it was her toy pigeon. Soon, pigeon had done a poo and needed its bum cleaning, then I had to fashion a nappy for it from a tissue. This game wasn’t going well, but then pigeon found “some treasure”. The treasure was a plastic medallion from a race (possibly one of Max’s) but I thought “bingo!” … let’s see if we can find any more treasure. The bedroom was scoured for anything remotely resembling treasure. Pigeon was sidelined (still wearing its tissue nappy) and we found about five more pieces of treasure. Oh, oh! Game over?

“It must be pirate treasure,” I said. “They’ve left it here.” There was immediate excitement and tension. “I hope they don’t come back.”

Alice’s imagination has put her on a desert island with treasure and the threat of pirates.

“What will they do?”

“They’ll make us walk the plank. Oh no, I can hear the pirates coming.“

Alice hid at the side of her wardrobe and I kneeled down with my head under a cushion. “Be very quiet or they will hear us.” I mimed a sneeze and then supressed it and the pirates had gone. Phew! Alice had looked quite frightened when the pirates came into the room and I didn’t want to be the one to give her pirate nightmares, so I  thought we should change the game, but then Alice heard the pirates coming back again. We had to hide (same place, same routine but without the sneeze – that was too scary). This time, when the pirates had gone, I decided enough was enough and we’d go downstairs and show the treasure to Nana.

There was a bit of dancing with Nana and a quick play with something called Bouncy Butter (a pit like uncontrollable PlayDoh that bounces) and then Max was down from the office and it was 4.30pm, time to go.

That’s a typical Monday. We leave at 7am and get back at 6pm and it’s pretty full on during the day. I guess we will keep the routine going until Alice starts school in about 18 months’ time. Heaven knows what games we will be playing then. She does have an amazing imagination. I don’t remember playing such detailed games with any of the others. Arthur would do similar things but, in his games, he was in charge and you had to do exactly what you were told, there was no input allowed. Maybe Alice will be a writer or some kind of storyteller when she’s older?

Saoirse in class

On Tuesday, we were in Ely at Saoirse’s school for Grandparents’ Day (yes it’s a thing, apparently). We got to Ely about 1pm and parked in Barton Road, so we could have a drink in the Prince Albert and then walk to her school which is called Acremont and is in Egremont Street (confusing?). It’s part of King’s School, Ely (a private, fee-paying school). Various grandparents waited outside to be let in and then we went into the classroom. There were two classrooms with about a dozen children in each one and Saoirse was sat at a table making a vase as a gift for us. It was done, apart from the glueing of some sparkly gems onto the side, which we were to help with. Saoirse was a little self-conscious at first (it must be strange to have all these old folk wander into your classroom) but she soon relaxed. They had been learning about different animals and how they are adapted to their environment. Saoirse had drawn a rhino, cut it out of black paper and glued it onto a background of a sunset in the savannah. She’d had some help from the teacher, but it was very effective. I guess with a teacher, plus classroom assistant and around 12 children, you’d expect high standards. There would be up to 30 children in a state school reception class.

After 20 minutes or so, we were ushered out of the back of the building where we could see the children’s playground and then through to their dining hall. The playground has grass, lots of play equipment and little shelters – it’s wonderful.

The dining room had tables set out with names reserving them for the right number of grandparents. We got a table at the front where there was going to be a performance. The children came in wearing animal masks (Saoirse was an elephant) and then did some poems in turns and finished with a song. They are well drilled for five-year-olds and very well behaved. After the performance, Saoirse came to sit with us and we were served tea, coffee and cakes by staff.

It was a very nice afternoon, we enjoyed seeing her school and Saoirse was so proud and excited. We walked her back to Barton Road, skipping a good section of the way and met Lucy there who was picking Arthur up from his school. King’s seems to have buildings all over the city and Arthur is now in the middle school, so a different site. It’s a well-trodden path for Saoirse who finishes a little earlier than Arthur and sometimes takes her scooter. Athur came out very happy and a gang of children had 10 minutes play on the grass before parents gradually took them off home. We were lucky to have a beautiful spring day to enjoy Ely and two of the grandchildren. Arthur and Saoirse have a really nice environment.

I went to bed when we arrived home. I was exhausted. We’ve both had rotten colds (possibly courtesy of Saoirse) and I’d run out of energy.

The arrangement for Wednesday is that Tom picks up Julia, Aureliano and Florencia from school at Sandon at 3-3.15pm, brings them back to Thorney and then looks after the three of them on Thursday and then taken them back to Baldock for around 6pm on Thursday evening.

Julia working on her wordpuzzle

They are going to school three days per week, Tom has them on Thursdays and Lucy has them on Fridays. This week, we had a call from Lucy to say that Julia wasn’t well and could Tom pick her up from Baldock and look after her. Tom was out, so I got ready to pick her up. I had a couple of jobs to do first. Getting some paperwork and cash from Thorney Ex-Servicemen’s Club (I’m the hon-treasurer) and I was just setting off for Baldock when Tom phoned. He’d got the message and said he’d go instead.

Julia arrived just before lunch and she seemed quite perky (they’ve all been a bit poorly in the past week), so she had some lunch and then spent the afternoon with Margaret. I said I’d drive to Sandon to pick up the other two and Tom wanted to come as well because he hasn’t seen the school (I’d done a pick-up the previous week).

It’s around 60 miles and a hour and 20 minutes to Sandon, a tiny hamlet on the edge of the tail of the Chiltern Hills where they taper down into Hertfordshire. The school has only 45 pupils and they are in mixed-age classes. Julia seems to like it and the school seems quite friendly. Aure is positive too and Encha a little less forthcoming.

When we got home, I made sausage and mash for tea, which is a favourite. Florencia hadn’t eaten her lunch at lunchtime, but ate almost all of it in the car on the way home and so was not hungry. Thankfully, everyone else was. In the morning, I made pancakes for breakfast. They went down OK, although Julia just wanted Hoops (a breakfast cereal). The children love Tom’s Nintendo Switch and like to play either Mario Kart or Minecraft. There’s only one machine and so they are rationed to an hour each. In the morning, Julia and I went to the park to fly a kite. It was a windy day, so the kite worked well and Julia enjoyed flying it. She was terrified she would let go or the string would snap and we’d lose the kite. She also had a go on the play equipment and we spent over an hour and a half in there.

Margaret had taken Florencia to Mo’s in the buggy and when we go back she’d made lunch with Aureliano’s help. Margaret and Julia had been playing word games the previous afternoon and Julia wanted to make a wordsearch puzzle. I’d done a grid on Excel and she worked so hard on the puzzle. Her letters were really neat and she’d colour-coded them in diagonal lines. It was really clever, just a shame the hidden words included poo, fart and bum! They went back Thursday after their tea and I guess this will be the regular weekly routine during term-time.

This weekend is Easter and tomorrow is Easter Sunday. All the children and grandchildren are coming, so it will be the first time we’ve been together in over a year.

I'm 70 and climbing the north ridge of Tryfan

The north ridge of Tryfan

I am 70. I reached my 70^th birthday on July 18, 2023, so I am a little late with this blog. Being 70 is weird. I have started to have a few mobility issues, mainly being less flexible (nothing serious) but I don’t feel any different in my head than I did 50 years ago. Then I look in the mirror and see the grey hair and flabby neck skin …

Being 70 in 2023 is quite different to what it was when my grandparents reached that age. I don’t remember any celebration for grandad or grandma when they were 70, but I do remember my Sunday School teach Miss Pickering hitting 70. She was a very small woman, quite bent, used a walking stick with a big rubber bung on the end and she always wore black (ever since her fiancé had been killed in the First World War).

She came to Sunday School and told us there was some important news. She had reached the age of 70, the age decreed in the Bible that was the lifespan of man. I think she saw it as an endorsement from God that she’d done her bit. Miss Pickering wasn’t a lot of fun (we didn’t have birthday cakes), she was serious, pious, wrinkly and I’d always thought she looked ancient. I guess she was a good person in a Victorian sort of way.

Things are a little different these days. Miss Pickering would have the appearance of a 90-something. I was looking for something to mark my 70^th and I’d been chatting with Max about a year before, who thought we could do a section of the Cuillin Ridge on Skye and climb the Inaccessible Pinnacle (the famous In Pin). Max said it was a fairly easy climb with a bit of exposure, but he’d get me up there and I said yes.

Taking a breather. Windy but no rain - yet!

By the time my birthday appeared on the horizon, we’d done nothing about it and Max now has a busy job making sure Dunelm meets its environmental obligations. We agreed the Cuillin Ridge was a bridge too far and he suggested instead that we climb Tryfan, a mountain in Snowdonia which has a famous grade 1 scramble up its north ridge. Max and I had set off to do it some years back, but I’d chickened out of the last section, unsure of the way and uncomfortable with my vertigo.

It was unfinished business – often best left unfinished when it comes to mountains!

Anyway, I agreed, so we set off the night before to stay at Tyn-y-Coed just beyond Betws-y-Coed on the A5. Max’s friend Will Garton had asked to come along and I was happy with that. Will, Max and I had done a weekend in the Lake District some years back and had climbed Sharp Edge on Blencathra.

We had a meal in the hotel (Will had set up his camper van in the car park) and the weather forecast hadn’t looked too good for the next day – rain and win. We discussed a less-testing and lower alternative and agreed to wait until morning.

After breakfast, it looked quite good, so we went with plan A and drove to the layby on the A5 at the foot of Tryfan. This is one of those mountains where there’s no long walk in – you park up and start climbing the north ridge. I’m not as fit as I was, but with a few rest stops on the way up, I thought I was doing all right.

The wind and rain did arrive and I found my waterproof pants flapping in the breeze a bit (I’ll have to get a new pair) but we kept going to the place where I’d turned back last time. Today, the weather was much worse, but there was no question of going down. The north ridge is a steep climb from the start, but near the top it’s a proper climb/scramble and definitely don’t look down if you lack a head for heights.

Will, Max and I at the summit

Max and Will had done it before (several times) so knew where they were going and guided me pretty well. If I’d been on my own, or not known the route, I would have bailed. At the summit, there are two vertical rocks, nicknamed Adam and Eve, and the challenge is to stand on one and jump to the other. With wind and rain sheeting across, there was no way we were going to attempt such heroics. We took a few photos, a windy video and headed down. Our route was to follow the south ridge for a spell and then “escaping” off the east face and circling back north to pick up a track back to the road. I found the descent much, much harder. Rocks were slippery, my left knee wouldn’t take any weight and my right was wobbly. It took a lot longer than I’d anticipated and I can’t say I enjoyed that section. It seemed to take ages before the gradient eased and the rocks became fewer. I have to say that the last half mile back to the car seemed like walking on air!

I did feel pretty chuffed with myself and pleased to have shared the experience with Max and Will. They would have been up and down in a third of the time, but they proved expert wayfinders and patient companions. They wondered if this would be my last mountain. It might be and, if it was, then I’d be pretty happy to go out on a high; although I might have another one in me before the end!

Trace of our route up and down.

I didn't die!

I realised that the last entry I wrote in my diary was about two years ago (January 2022) and was entitled “I have Covid”. I’d just like to put on the record that I did not die – it does sound a little like a “last words” post.

“My country, how I leave my country.” William Pitt the Younger

“Kiss me Hardy.” Lord Nelson

“Tomorrow, at sunrise, I shall no longer be here.” Nostrodamus

As last words go, “I have Covid” might be quite apt, but it was not as bad as that. I had a funny feeling in my nose, some anxiety and a fluctuating temperature, but was soon OK. I think the later you caught the disease, the better it was; the virus became less harmful and we’d all had a couple of vaccinations.

I may have had Covid a second time, but no-one seems to bother to take a test any more (including me) and isolation and face masks are things of the past for the British (if not for other countries). There’s still lots of Covid about all across the world and here, in the UK, I know a lot of people who have had it over Christmas, including our friends Pauline and Chris, their children and grandchildren!

For the government, Covid was a disaster. They were inept, incompetent and dishonest. The shambles of multiple too-late lockdowns, a lack of scientific understanding and rank hypocrisy in sticking to their own rules has hit their popularity and cost Prime Minister Boris Johnson his job and his career as a politician.

He was hosting parties at Downing Street in contravention to the rules, but the fact he denied it and lied to Parliament ultimately cost him his career. There’s currently a Covid Inquiry being staged to try to find out what went wrong and what lessons could be learned. It’s not very helpful – everyone is blaming everyone else. Hat wen wrong? Everything. What lessons will be learned? None!