Today
At our family gathering yesterday my two-year old great niece Charlotte showed just how much she likes chocolate. I'd decorated a little tree especially for the children to enjoy and I offered each child a foil-wrapped chocolate bauble.
Charlotte ate hers with relish and quickly persuaded another relative to give her a second one. Later I noticed two or three empty foil wrappers still attached to the string and tree, showing that Charlotte had worked out how to help herself.
In My Day
When Caspian the dog came to live with us back in 1984, we were inexperienced in the ways and wiles of dogs. That Christmas we put the tree up in the window as usual with all its decorations. One evening we all went out to visit cousins, leaving Cas in sole charge.
When we returned, I did think it somewhat unusual to see Cas with his paws up on the window sill watching anxiously for our return. When we walked into the sitting room the reason for his anxiety was plain.
He'd eaten every single chocolate from the tree, leaving, as did Charlotte, the string and foil still hanging. One has to marvel at the dexterity with which he had achieved this feat without otherwise damaging the tree. He knew exactly what he'd done wrong, but he was quite unable to resist the temptation. We simply had to lock him away in future.
I hope it won't come to this with the delightful Charlotte and I now know the quickest way to her heart!
Sunday, December 30, 2012
Tuesday, December 18, 2012
The Great Escape
Today
We have decided to take Abby with us when we go to London for Christmas. She likes to be near us and to have human company. I'm sure there are people who'd pop in and feed her if we asked, but she'd be alone all the rest of the time and the cattery, however much they might like to give her attention, will have others to deal with.
In My Day
When we lived at Belmont in Brighton we illegally kept cats. At the time of David's wedding in 1972 we had Ajax, a bold little mackerel tabby and Annelise, a sweet tabby and white. Going away presented problems; we could hardly ask a neighbour to feed the cats, as our illegal ownership would then be rumbled, and affording a cattery was beyond our means, to say the least.
So we asked our friends at the Gatehouse in Wilmington to look after them for a couple of nights. They had plenty of space and were used to cats.
When we returned to Brighton after the wedding I phoned said friend to ask when it would be convenient to pop over to collect the cats. "Well", said Eileen "That's if you can find them." Apparently they'd both dashed outdoors at some point. The house at Wilmington was a level crossing house, and once the cats were loose, they were so spooked by the sounds of the crossing gates and the passing trains that they became completely elusive. Ajax did once appear, actually sitting on the windowsill, but Eileen and Andy were inept and let him escape.
We drove over and wandered around the garden, calling and calling. They didn't appear and I never saw them again. I hope that they found new and good homes and weren't run over by the trains, eaten by foxes or starved to death.
Somewhere in my heart is a grain of unforgiveness for Eileen and Andy, although we remained friends. And perhaps that's because there's a grain of unforgiveness for myself for allowing a situation where this outcome was possible to occur.
I feel certain that Abby will settle just fine and she may even get a bit of turkey dinner!
We have decided to take Abby with us when we go to London for Christmas. She likes to be near us and to have human company. I'm sure there are people who'd pop in and feed her if we asked, but she'd be alone all the rest of the time and the cattery, however much they might like to give her attention, will have others to deal with.
In My Day
When we lived at Belmont in Brighton we illegally kept cats. At the time of David's wedding in 1972 we had Ajax, a bold little mackerel tabby and Annelise, a sweet tabby and white. Going away presented problems; we could hardly ask a neighbour to feed the cats, as our illegal ownership would then be rumbled, and affording a cattery was beyond our means, to say the least.
So we asked our friends at the Gatehouse in Wilmington to look after them for a couple of nights. They had plenty of space and were used to cats.
When we returned to Brighton after the wedding I phoned said friend to ask when it would be convenient to pop over to collect the cats. "Well", said Eileen "That's if you can find them." Apparently they'd both dashed outdoors at some point. The house at Wilmington was a level crossing house, and once the cats were loose, they were so spooked by the sounds of the crossing gates and the passing trains that they became completely elusive. Ajax did once appear, actually sitting on the windowsill, but Eileen and Andy were inept and let him escape.
We drove over and wandered around the garden, calling and calling. They didn't appear and I never saw them again. I hope that they found new and good homes and weren't run over by the trains, eaten by foxes or starved to death.
Somewhere in my heart is a grain of unforgiveness for Eileen and Andy, although we remained friends. And perhaps that's because there's a grain of unforgiveness for myself for allowing a situation where this outcome was possible to occur.
I feel certain that Abby will settle just fine and she may even get a bit of turkey dinner!
Sunday, December 16, 2012
Rubies
Today
Today is the 40th anniversary of my brother David's wedding to Joan. He published a picture on Facebook of them on their wedding day. David is resplendent in top hat, tails and enormous amounts of facial hair. Joan looks sweet., almost engulfed in a furry white hood.
"Oh! I remember it well", I commented.
In My Day
When Paul and I planned to marry, David had expressed reservations about the concept. I think he just hadn't met Joan at that time, an event which clearly altered his attitude to the whole thing.
I don't think we had a great deal of notice of their wedding. Lizzie was about six weeks old and we were, as usual, broke. Paul was most touched to be asked to be best man and was flossied up in top hat and tails to match David (no facial hair, tho'). Having had a such a shoestring wedding myself I think I wasn't quite prepared for the more formal aspect of this one.
I scrambled together a dress from a remnant and cut a dash carrying a furry muff that had been a gift from Chris. We travelled up to London to David's house the night before, having first deposited the cats with friends in Eastbourne (who let them escape, never to be seen again, but that's another story).
Preparations were in full swing. Joan's father seemed to be still in process of papering the "grand room" to render it acceptable to guests and Joan was putting together a fleecy hooded cloak to go over her wedding gown. Full of pre-wedding nerves she struggled with a length of swansdown which was to go round the edge of the hood, "Give it here", I said, wanting to be useful. And, well into the night, I carefully stitched on this dainty trim.
We all fell into bed, I think all sharing the same room in a studenty kind of way.
The day, I seem to remember, went off pretty well. Paul made his speech and we had a sit down wedding breakfast. We then repaired back to David's where we partied hard in the newly decorated room. Paul, I think, found a very willing dancing partner in Joan's sister Beryl.
These photos, however fuzzy, conjure up the sharpest memories of the occasion and the people we met and loved, many of whom are no longer here.
Congratulations, David and Joan; and thank you, David, for giving me such a jewel of a sister.
Today is the 40th anniversary of my brother David's wedding to Joan. He published a picture on Facebook of them on their wedding day. David is resplendent in top hat, tails and enormous amounts of facial hair. Joan looks sweet., almost engulfed in a furry white hood.
"Oh! I remember it well", I commented.
In My Day
When Paul and I planned to marry, David had expressed reservations about the concept. I think he just hadn't met Joan at that time, an event which clearly altered his attitude to the whole thing.
I don't think we had a great deal of notice of their wedding. Lizzie was about six weeks old and we were, as usual, broke. Paul was most touched to be asked to be best man and was flossied up in top hat and tails to match David (no facial hair, tho'). Having had a such a shoestring wedding myself I think I wasn't quite prepared for the more formal aspect of this one.
I scrambled together a dress from a remnant and cut a dash carrying a furry muff that had been a gift from Chris. We travelled up to London to David's house the night before, having first deposited the cats with friends in Eastbourne (who let them escape, never to be seen again, but that's another story).
Preparations were in full swing. Joan's father seemed to be still in process of papering the "grand room" to render it acceptable to guests and Joan was putting together a fleecy hooded cloak to go over her wedding gown. Full of pre-wedding nerves she struggled with a length of swansdown which was to go round the edge of the hood, "Give it here", I said, wanting to be useful. And, well into the night, I carefully stitched on this dainty trim.We all fell into bed, I think all sharing the same room in a studenty kind of way.
The day, I seem to remember, went off pretty well. Paul made his speech and we had a sit down wedding breakfast. We then repaired back to David's where we partied hard in the newly decorated room. Paul, I think, found a very willing dancing partner in Joan's sister Beryl.
These photos, however fuzzy, conjure up the sharpest memories of the occasion and the people we met and loved, many of whom are no longer here.
Congratulations, David and Joan; and thank you, David, for giving me such a jewel of a sister.
Friday, December 14, 2012
Christmas Duty
Today
We're feeling very excited about our Christmas visit to Becky and Richard's. It'll be great fun to see how they manage things ("Give me champagne and I'll do what I'm told", I said).
Once we'd finished discussing the finer points of the nut loaf - which boil down to the fact that I'm making it - I told Becky not to feel in future years that she and Richard should dash about just to make sure that we're somehow fitted in over Christmas. I hear of people who never seem to stop travelling - Christmas day in one house, Boxing day somewhere else at the far end of the country - which makes it all sound like a chore to me and takes the fun and joy out of things.
In My Day
Once we all had our own domestic set-up Mamma took the same attitude. She'd ask us our plans for Christmas and was very happy that we all had satisfactory arrangements. I think we only once spent Christmas at Dorking and that involved an air bed on the living room floor. I do remember that Mamma was touched that I'd prepared stockings for all.
Chris generally shared his Christmas with David and often gave a big family party at his Hampstead house a few days later. These events were hugely entertaining and noisy and almost certainly were a factor in cementing the closeness between the cousins.
What is odd, I now think about it, is that I don't ever remember any suggestion that Mamma and Daddy be of the party. We could easily have picked them up en route. Maybe Chris suggested it and was turned down; I don't know. Perhaps Mamma felt that a whole day in another house would have been too much for Daddy. What it meant was that, once her children were independent, Mamma, who loved parties, missed out on the biggest one of the year .
My attitude is designed to help my children feel that they never owe me an onerous duty at Christmas, not to miss out on any parties that are on offer.
We're feeling very excited about our Christmas visit to Becky and Richard's. It'll be great fun to see how they manage things ("Give me champagne and I'll do what I'm told", I said).
Once we'd finished discussing the finer points of the nut loaf - which boil down to the fact that I'm making it - I told Becky not to feel in future years that she and Richard should dash about just to make sure that we're somehow fitted in over Christmas. I hear of people who never seem to stop travelling - Christmas day in one house, Boxing day somewhere else at the far end of the country - which makes it all sound like a chore to me and takes the fun and joy out of things.
In My Day
Once we all had our own domestic set-up Mamma took the same attitude. She'd ask us our plans for Christmas and was very happy that we all had satisfactory arrangements. I think we only once spent Christmas at Dorking and that involved an air bed on the living room floor. I do remember that Mamma was touched that I'd prepared stockings for all.
Chris generally shared his Christmas with David and often gave a big family party at his Hampstead house a few days later. These events were hugely entertaining and noisy and almost certainly were a factor in cementing the closeness between the cousins.
What is odd, I now think about it, is that I don't ever remember any suggestion that Mamma and Daddy be of the party. We could easily have picked them up en route. Maybe Chris suggested it and was turned down; I don't know. Perhaps Mamma felt that a whole day in another house would have been too much for Daddy. What it meant was that, once her children were independent, Mamma, who loved parties, missed out on the biggest one of the year .
My attitude is designed to help my children feel that they never owe me an onerous duty at Christmas, not to miss out on any parties that are on offer.
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