Tuesday 20 April 2021

Continuity...


A dear, close neighbour will be moving away from here in a month or so. She is getting on in years, and has struggled a bit since her husband died a couple of years ago. She had to get over a disgraceful burglary last year, and now has a distinct fear for her future in her delightful cottage, as her diagnosis of dementia (over the bloody phone, for God's sake), has made her need more help than she would ordinarily wish for.

Her three sons all live in other parts of the country, all in the South, so she is looking at a retirement village complex where she will have security, friendship from close neighbours, a church and above all, someone to keep a closer eye on her. She'll be near one of the sons, who lives roughly in the middle of the three, so she'll see her grandchildren more often as well. 

Just yesterday, Senora O'Blene and Scrobs were partaking of a post-prandial tincture, and discussing what they'd do under the circumstances. The upshot is that we are firmly in the 'remain' camp here, as we have lived here for thirty-two years, and in the village for another twelve before that, so at last, we think we're accepted!

When we were first married, we lived in a flat in Hastings, as we both worked of course. When the children came along, we moved to a farm cottage way out in the countryside, and then finished up here, so that wasn't very adventurous, but it suited us well. My company actually wanted me to move nearer to London, but that was never on the cards, and they backed down immediately after a serious telephone call!

Senora O'Blene had spent much of her childhood in various forces accommodation, and is always of the opinion that she will damn well stay in one place from now on, and I feel the same! There was an uncomfortable time several years ago when Brown and Blair were bankrupting the country and also my company, which meant we might have to move, but we got over that, and the latest idea is that we're thinking we'll use what space we have at 'The Turrets', which is a decent space for a state of the art shower, and possibly a stair lift! (We don't need either - yet...)!

We know so many people who have decided to up-sticks every few years, gone to far-off places, sometimes hated it and returned, or became distant Christmas card addresses. A good chum is caught up in an immoveable property chain where he is desperate to move back to his roots area, and cannot, while another mate just decided to move the family two-hundred miles away, almost on a whim! My dear sister moved away some years ago, but at least we can chat over the phone occasionally!

So it's another thirty odd years of these tulips and bluebells, which have come out every year we have been here, they're persistent little chaps, and possibly about my age...

22 comments:

MrMC said...

I translated this for Mrs Chin and she is crying, so sad, and there are those that wished harm upon another saying goodbye at the weekend just for their politics

MrMC said...

I asked her how she felt about his comments on the Chinese and she laughed, and said it is true. just like all my friends say about your big noses.

Scrobs. said...

I'm sorry if I've upset Mrs Chin!

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nbtxwIvbp08&ab_channel=QueenOfficial

One of my favourite Queen songs!

MrMC said...

We have a circle of life with snowdrops in Bennington in February, then daffodils in Letchworth, bluebells in Preston Wood and Lavendar in Ickleford

MrMC said...

It does not take much to upset Mrs Chin at her time of life if you know what I mean, I have just spent three days in Norfolk, the first time Felix has been away, a nervous breakdown in the car then a two day nervous breakdown in a holiday cottage that smelt a bit of dog with Mrs Chin desperatley trying to find her every hour.
I have nothing but admiration for Felix' ability to hide in a one bedroom cottage in a pillowcase and a bedside cabinet whilst Mrs Chin scoured the woodland for two hours a day looking for her

MrMC said...
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Scrobs. said...

They do that...

MrMC said...

I thought holidays were meant to be relaxing, a menopausal Chinese wife and a psychopathic cat put paid to that, Cromer was nice though, and have lodged a complaint to Wells next the Sea under the advertising standards, Wells next the muddy river maybe

MrMC said...

And sitting on a wall eating £20 fish and chips observing fishermen with little understanding of roadworthy vehicles hurling abuse at passers by "yep its going the be f@cking fish fingers tomorrow, now f@ck off"

MrMC said...
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MrMC said...

Mrs Chin loves seafood and the banter of fishermen with rusty Toyota pick ups, luckily she does not understand ther dialect and still thinks they are a friendly bunch

I will not burst her bubble, it was a delight watching her wave to them and their response

A K Haart said...

We've been thinking of moving, but we wouldn't move far from the family so there is a "why bother?" aspect to it. We are settled here and we like the neighbours - these things matter.

James Higham said...

Distant Christmas card addresses - know it well.

Scrobs. said...

Holidays are for panic, confusion, different food and beer, Mr Mc!

You're not suppsed to enjoy them...

Scrobs. said...

I agree, Mr H, and it's very expensive and a huge worry now!

Scrobs. said...

James, I don't really like Christmas cards, they remind me of crossings-out in the address book at the wrong time of year!

MrMC said...
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Scrobs. said...

Got rid of that one, MrMC.

MrMC said...

Hi sorry about my memory of the recently departed Les Mckeown link not working, I had to delete it after a big white box appeared across my blog after copying and pasting a photo and gig review of the Mallory Park debacle , took me ages to sort out, and appears to be a blocked advert that jumped over with the photo

MrMC said...

A very rare sojourn onto BBBC shows SG is still berating fellow posters, and they talk about free speech as if they care about it

Scrobs. said...

It's mostly a megamoan about the blasted oscars at the moment, so best avoided anyway!

MrMC said...

Oh dear, did Taff's screenplays lose again ? "A Room with a Pugh" or "Bleddyn Saddles" ?
Or SGs autobiography "Psycho"