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 teacher 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!

I have Covid

I have Covid, so has Margaret. It’s got us at last, although we may have had a different variant earlier in the pandemic and not realised … who knows?

There’s no doubt this time. I take a lateral-flow test each week before my Spanish classes just to make sure I’m not infective and the test showed I was positive almost immediately. Margaret tested herself and was also positive.

I didn’t feel ill (still don’t, touch wood) but I thought it strange that I couldn’t smell the hyacinths I’d grown and which are now in full flower. When I got my nose to them, I could just detect a scent, but I knew this wasn’t right.

We now have to isolate at home for five days. If I pass a lateral-flow test on day 6 and day 7 (Saturday and Sunday) I can come out of isolation, otherwise I have to do a full 10 days.

Of course, we’re sticking to the rules; unlike our Prime Minister who is now being investigated by police for staging a number of rule-breaking social events during the lock-down he imposed. He is, without doubt, the worse PM I have ever seen (and that’s something after the fiasco that was Theresa May).

Personally, I hope he’s forced out of office and the Conservative Party implodes, but then I am a little biased in these matters.

The lockdown eases, but new variant runs rampant

Yesterday, the Covid-19 restrictions were eased a little. We are now, officially, able to go into other people’s houses and can mix in groups of six or three families. We can also go inside a pub or restaurant (table service only), we can hug each other, and we can go on holiday to a select number of destinations – basically Malta, Portugal and the Falkland Islands! Also, our government says we can visit New Zealand, Australia and Singapore, but their governments won’t allow us in!

I didn’t dash off to the Falklands (or even the pub) and while we welcome the easing of lockdown (it means I can visit Max without breaking any laws) we are now unlikely to make any major changes very quickly.

There is a new Covid variant in the UK, which seems to have a significantly higher transmission rate than previous variants (including the so-called Kent variant). This one has come from India where it has ravaged the country with up to 4,000 victims per day dying and grim scenes on the television news of people desperately trying to get hold of oxygen for sick relatives.

The scenes from India were frightening, but the government didn’t put it on the red list (which would require people to quarantine), so people were still travelling to and from India and just had to say they would quarantine at home for 11 days. Pakistan and Bangladesh were placed in the red list, despite not having as high an infection rate as India. So why was that? The suspicion is that Boris Johnson wanted to do a quick trade deal with India and wasn’t keen to upset the Indian prime minister Narendra Modi. That’s plausible, but it could also be because the government is a shower of incompetent idiots who have got pretty much every decision wrong or delayed during the whole history of this pandemic.

They did put India on the red list, eventually, but gave five days’ notice so everyone who was able to grab a flight got on a plane to the UK.

Two weeks later, we have 400,000 confirmed cases of the India variant, which is raging through Asian communities in Bolton, Blackburn and Bedford, where vaccination rates have been relatively low.

So the lockdown easing continued, despite this new variant, and we now risk a third wave … a third wave that could have easily been avoided. Scientists are saying it’s crazy that we’re able to go on holiday abroad, that we’re opening pubs and restaurants and the government’s response is to put the onus of responsibility back to people saying: just because you can go to the pub, it doesn’t mean you should do so. What a shower of fuckwits!

In other news, the weather has been excessively cold at nights with frosts and easterly or northern winds throughout April. May has started with milder weather, but lots of rain. This has been playing havoc with my gardening. I’ve lost lots of bedding plants – salvias, coleus and begonias, while others have been knocked back. It’s been a frustrating spring.

I do have my base ready for the new greenhouse and the garden is actually looking quite good, so it’s not all doom and gloom. I’ve also been helping Max and Sam in their gardens. We repaired Max’s fence and tidied up his raised planters, two of which are now planted with bedding dahlias, salvias, geraniums and also a few echeveria and hibiscus. I’m waiting for some begonias to become big enough to transplant, perhaps another couple of weeks, to complete the final bed.

Sam had his lawn relaid and it’s now ready to be mowed. He did one cut about a week ago and I went on Friday to give it a second with my mower. It had grown substantially, and I had to empty the grassbox about 20 times. I’ve almost filled one of his compost bins with just one cut! The lawn does look good. We have also fixed some rain barrels, set some flags and some general tidying. Oh! We also put up a rope swing in the garden for Arthur which has been a huge success.

Tom has been getting a little more work – one or two days per week – but it is still less than he needs. He says he may go back to Ecuador to be with his family and try again later in the year. The problem with that is that he may lose what momentum he has, but also he would have to spent the best part of £2,000 in a quarantine hotel because Ecuador is on the red list. The pandemic has caused a lot more trouble for some people than others. I’m missing seeing Lucy and my grandchildren; it must be ten times worse for Tom.

Will things ever be the same? I’m beginning to think that they won’t!

Sam's new lawn 

Alice entertains new visitors

Well, summer didn’t last very long. Yesterday, the wind came round from the north-east and the temperature went down by about 14 degrees. It’s the same today, so sitting out with family (and sticking to Covid rules) will require coats and hats.

Yesterday, Margaret and I went over to Max’s. It was the first time Margaret has been able to see Alice. She has stuck to Covid rules more strictly than I have and yesterday was the earliest they have been able to meet in their garden. Of course, it was too cold to sit in the garden, so we were all inside, except for a two-hour walk around Syston with the dogs and sleeping baby.

It was nice for Margaret to finally meet her new grand-daughter and Alice was suitably charming. She was also able to catch up with Max and Inna, who she hasn’t seen for more than six months.

We stayed for four hours, including the long walk, and then Sam, Lucy and family arrived for a visit. They had been to see Sam’s university friend Dave Miodrag (I’ve probably spelled that wrong) who lives in Leicester and has two children of a similar age. They popped into Syston on their way back. There’s a lovely picture of Saoirse and Alice sitting looking at each other. Saoirse hadn’t seen a small baby before, and she was fascinated.

On Wednesday night, I watched a film called Contagion. It was made in 2011 and is about a deadly pandemic virus that starts in China and sweeps across the world – does that sound familiar? The similarities with Covid are staggering, the film could almost have been a news report on Covid. It even started with a bat in China, spread via air travel, droplets and touching surfaces; there was social distancing, food shortages, a battle to find a vaccine, delays with vaccine production – even a social media blogger who rubbished vaccines and promoted various conspiracy theories.

The only things lacking were UK government incompetence (which is an ongoing) and a US president who thought injecting the population with bleach would be a good idea. The film-makers also anticipated that the WHO (World Health Organisation) would play a heroic role. In reality, they have been side-lined due to national interests and rubbished by some leaders to play to popularist galleries in their own countries.