UP IN SMOKE!

An almost perfectly clear sky over London and a smugness about being indoors by the fire (yes, okay the gas one!) watching the countdown to 2009! 5, 4, 3, 2, 1 and then the fireworks...2 minutes in and fireworks now in full flow, 3 minutes in and i'm suitably impressed but my attention is wavering, 4 minutes in and i'm wondering what more can be done, 5 minutes in and I'm beginning to feel anger, this is costing a fortune and who is paying for it? In the end, whether or not it was a full 9 minutes and it certainly seemed so, it was too bloomin much by anyones standards. I'm barely ten minutes into this new year and I'm on the edge of ranting with rage! Can I be the only one?

20 minutes into this New Year....tea in cup, messages sent, e mails read and blog being blogged!

A new day, another Year, but in this one, no resolutions to be broken, less expectations and hopefully more laughter and a little more tolerance!

AM I GOING QUACKERS??

Five and a half hours to Midnight on N.years eve. There are women of all ages and all types, all over the country getting themselves preened and dolled up ready for the annual celebration of "Thank G-d its All Over" evening! Happily, here in my humble abode I am joyfully sipping some red, nibbling my nuts and wondering where I put the duck. Let me explain; with only a limited number of rooms at the J.W residence, there is little chance that it will be long before I finally stumble across it but I know, as eggs are eggs, that my watercolour painting of ducks is somewhere about, yet now I come to want to find it, it is nowhere to be seen. Hopefully the red will obliterate part of my paranoia (doesn't look right-the spelling i mean!) ...and I will graciously give in to a most selfish celebration of curling up and enjoying the trail end of Christmas TV fayre before the dissapearance of the picture gets me any more flustered.
There is unhesitantly, some pleasure to be had in not having to do the party circuit but I haven't always been such a docile dolly. The kids still recall with great clarity the N.Years Eve party hosted by our friend the G.P. some ten years ago. He most generously held a full on N.Years Eve bash at his surgery premises in N.London. At least a hundred friends of his filled the venue and sipped their bucks fizz and sparkling waters whilst I found myself somehow catapulted up onto the reception desk and as if by complete osmosis was leading the throng to line dance and party to the music. I can't remember the exact way it happened (though my kids seem to have total recall and still blush ) however I haven't lived down my new years eve on the reception desk arena! In fact as time rolls by, I come to think of it as one of the classic nights out! Mind you, how glad am I that it was pre mobile phone video/picture era!! Now has anyone seen my ducks?

WHAT'S GOING ON OUT THERE??

To be honest, what's going on in here should be the question! Its 11.30 a.m. and i'm sitting in my pink fluffy d.gown. Not a sound! Upstairs Peter is huddled under the duvet having been working in the still of the night and outside, not even a breeze. The birds aren't twittering, the cloud cover is blanket and even sitting within a metre of the window is frrreeeezzzing! I exaggerate not! No cars- no calls- even no post or e mails but the normal inbox of sales bargains from Amazon and Tesco who don't give up even when the weather freezes our pockets and our minds!
This is when I remember that N.Years is another tricky evening of jolity and partying. Whilst Christmas makes me feel so Bah Humbug, N.Years makes me remember the hours of 'getting ready', the painting of nails, the outfit to make me feel like i'm on top and of course, the hope of being noticed, even kissed. Then again the reality has often been something a bit different. Familiar faces, boys that looked like nowhere else would have them and too much to drink by eleven o clock and wondering who might be prepared to walk me home or at least drive me home. Hard to imagine that we barely did clunk click let alone alcohol limits! Hope my kids aren't going to read this. Listen, there's nowt to hear in here so i'm oft to bathe, dress and prepare myself for an afternoon of, strings (guitar), paints (watercolours) and movies (assuming there's something short enough and up beat enough to hold my fragile attention span).
So to one and All, Happy New Years!..

ALL WIRED UP!

I'm beginning to understand that wearing ear-phones doesn't mean that everyone is listening to their ipod music all day. Since finally giving in to buying one, an ipod i mean, my ear phones are generally in even when i'm not listening to some radio 4 podcast-far more satisfying that hearing repeats of songs i've known for decades. Yet, the frustration of the podcasts is that having selected to listen to Crossing Continents or Libby Purves Midweek conversations, I hear the first ten minutes before I fall asleep and wake up to find that if I want to hear the 50 minutes that I've slept through, I have to start the podcast from the beginning and thus, there is EVERY chance that i'll fall asleep at roughly the same point again. I have heard approximately the first ten minutes of about 100 radio 4 programmes these past couple of months. The wearing of the ear plugs obviously isn't obligatory all day, yet they sit quite snuggly and its only when Peter starts doing his sign language or shouting at me that I realise he thinks I'm 'tuned in' and listening to something. I guess its a sign of the times but whilst I almost balk at the idea that new technology is too testing I realise that like generations before me i'm struggling to keep up. Its not just complex but seriously cumbersome at times.
My recent stay in hospital had me laughing to the point of pain, not difficult considering i'd just been operated simultaneously on my back and my front! There I was, drip in one arm, Drains from the other side with large pouch attachment weighing in at least a kilo, the buzzer to call the nurse, the control to raise/lower/fold and collapse the bed, the TV control and earphone system (excellent! there for every bed at no charge!!!), my ipod, phone, and my CD walkman so I could listen to an audio book at any given moment. Glasses for reading perched on my head and of course glasses for long distance just in case I needed a clear view of young Cheska in the bed opposite! Worse still, on good advice I had taken my Virgin Atlantic Eye mask to attempt to cut out the lights that are on or turned on throughout the night in hospital wards... All in all, I was wired up and seriously deranged by trying to be sorted! Are you beginning to get the picture??? Which buzzer, what bell, what was ringing, talking to me and where had I put it? Despite the pain, the aftermath of the anaesthetic and the horror of the surgery I was collapsing into hysterics at frequent intervals as I tried to look at TV through my eye mask, made the bed fold in half instead of calling the nurse and blasted my ears with my ipod whilst trying to find my ringing phone. Ahhh......i'm trembling at the very memory of it all. Still young Francesca in the bed opposite was at least HIGHLY AMUSED and come to think of it, its still amusing me some 6 weeks later! Now home and slowly recouperating, I have to deal with my e mails, my blog and facebook. There are endless batteries to be recharged, updating podcasts and chatting on line. Work? when would one ever find the time? No this hi-tech 21st century communication order is tough going. It obviously takes a seriously intent mind to manage the demands of the day. So for that reason I'm going to take my weary body back to bed and get a few more hours sleep -with my ipod, of course!!

A WENDY CRAIG MOMENT!

Wendy Craig! Bet that takes you back...and me, but then I am a late 50's baby (born in!!!) and she was a hit with Butterflies. Remember that? Of course you do, unless you're one of my post decimal currency readers! Where am I? oh yes, in reverie...that's it! Well I was earlier today. Received text from Singapore. "I'm here safe, plasma screen and 32 degrees. Bloke in pool wearing Speedos" As always an eclectic battery of thought processes from Matthew (his official name)...whilst I stand by the iron, gazing out into the frosty beauty of our little garden in suburbia, theres my boy...all grown up and sussing out the globe for himself. Well the plasma screen and pool at least! How time has flown. I know you'd rather not read reams of reveries but the years just seem to skip by. This one has limped along with the full weight of a monster but thankfully there is that deep seated human spirit that fights for survival and newness, for hope and aspirations. I've moved the ironing board into his room. Something of a strategic move! Means that at least several times a week I have purpose to go into it and live in his space a little. Probably just noticing all the clutter and chaos but none the less it would be a pity to leave the space simply vacant. He's barely been gone a day and I'm considering a lick of new paint and some fresh flooring. Not because I'm wanting to clear him out of the nest you understand, but more because this is a golden opportunity to drive myself and all others, mad with those wretched paint pot testers and samples of carpets. Over recent months I've thought of precious little outside of my own chaos so perhaps this is already an early sign of regeneration. You should be delighted for me..I'm hoping my husband Peter is. No doubt he will see this thought as a sign of me resurging to my more normal irritable ways! :-) The house is eerily quiet. We're rattling around even though we should be used to just being 'us' since we've had our palace to ourselves for most of the past 3 years now. Please don't suggest downsizing. Rattling we may be but downsizing isn't an option. In fact from my new ironing position I can see the far right hand corner of the garden which I earmarked for my new summer house some few years back. Nothing came of our plans though the thought of a studio, reading room equipped with heating and electricity seemed the perfect solution to the then cramped house. Despite the vacant rooms the idea of the summer room still appeals. Oh Peter, I can feel myself getting better by the moment!!

THE EAGLE HAS LANDED!

Now far be it for me to go on and on about the fact that my son has gone off...but he has! Courtesy of our computer, we know he has landed and that whilst the sun has probably set on Singapore, here the day is just dawning- for me anyway! Could it be that my days of early rising, chomping my way through the lists of to do's has come to a grinding halt? Just more likely that post operatively I have no classes booked, no shopping to concern myself with and no major cleaning! I know it sounds like a perpetual holiday but for one whose brain flits about at the speed of sound on speed (normally I mean) this is all very strange!
My fluffy, bright pink dressing gown has indeed been value for money! I can't help but smile thinking of the day I purchased it during the last week of October (Breast Cancer Awareness Month!)... I'd been meandering somewhat aimlessly around the local shops, the terror of my forthcoming breast cancer operation seriously damaging my thoughts as I returned a top into Dorothy Perkins for a refund. The sales girl rattled her BREAST CANCER AWARENESS charity box at me and I was instantly spouting tears of fear! Leaving the shop hurridly I almost ran into the next one being La Senza. Almost safe from the sounds of the charity box I concentrated on finding me a soft new dressing gown to take into hospital. Nothing sensual but something light and cosy, soft and who cares how much! One stood out, it was absolutely perfect in every regard but the colour! The sales assistant suggested it was a wonderful, vibrant and cosy pink and was their BREAST CANCER AWARENESS MONTH PINK PURCHASE!!!! This time I instantly wept openly. Almost howling and losing my grip on the day she couldn't help but notice and ask if I needed help. "I HAVE BREAST CANCER AND I'M ABOUT TO GO INTO THE MARSDEN HOSPITAL IN NOVEMBER TO HAVE MY BREAST REMOVED, AND THE SKIN AND HAVE MY BACK PLANTED ONTO MY FRONT WITH A MAJOR MUSCLE AND SKIN GRAFT"...poor woman..she began to lose her own will to live! Her palour drained fast as she offered me some water and a seat! When we had both managed to begin to pull ourselves together I all too irrationally decided to go ahead with the B.C.PINK ONE after all and she carefully packaged it up and presented it to me with an announcement. "I've given you my full staff discount on your purchase and just want to wish you well-fast!"... We both wept a few more tears, I scurried out of the shop with my dressing gown and discount and probably left her feeling in need of something stronger than a cuppa!
So, after all that, I'm off....to bathe and dress! before the morning runs away with me!

THE ENGINE IS ON.....

AND as I blog this, son number 1 aka Matty is probably boarding his Singapore Airline flight. We, the left behinders, have just wept our way back along the M25 on this freezing cold evening...surely we should have all gone with him? We spent most of the way back convincing Ellena that her life as a student/waitress/shop manager and jewellery designer was as wonderful despite the fact that the sun hasn't shone for what seems like months and that she is wearing her soles off her feet working so hard just to cover her outgoings...Young El has certainly achieved marathons of significant challenges these past couple of years but it might be true to say that her social life has been marginalised in order to make sure that the bills have been paid etc. So, whilst i wouldn't want to intefere (what mother would want to )....my beautiful and hard working, effervescent nineteen year old could do with a little pampering and adoration ...(no, not from me...that goes without saying) but from someone at least handsome, naturally bright, witty, averagely intelligent at least and of course, someone who listens, chats, does and can and of course is always willing to do...whatever is needed to be done, when she says so!
On that thoughtful and hopeful note I shall take an early retirement (i mean, I'm off to bed). And will look forward to hearing Mattys' N.Year Greetings from the Equator to us soon enough!

A MOTHERS LAMENT

Having been up only 2 hours and wept at least three times I wonder why and if having my own blog will be a valuable tool to helping me through 09. To say I'm happy to put 08 behind me is an understatement..would be too much and far too offputting to tell all to any readers in this intro blog so you'll just have to find out about why 08 is best ditched as the blogs move on.
Being a mother/woman/wife of a certain age n stage there is no end to what i might need to moan, groan or laugh about and whilst there are millions of others whose stories may read lighter, easier or simpler, I will make no apologies for bearing a bit of my soul to you. After all you're giving up precious moments of your life to struggle through this bit ....
A blog! Yep why do I need to blog? Surely at my time of life, I should be thinking of reading worthy books and celebrating empty nesting! Taking up art classes and pottering round the garden...Instead, I find myself heartily tapping away to download my wonder and woe in the bowels of my heart! (okay, my choice of words needs some amending but this isn't to be read by the literary society..or is it?)
Take today for instance...and not in isolation... Son number 1 (and I only have one son....yes, yes I do have a daughter but more about E a little later....) son no. 1 Matty -er Matthew Philip, or Matt if you're about to find him on my space that would be mattwinteronline/myspace.com or perhaps its myspace.com/mattwinteronline -yes that sounds about right. Yes follow that line and you'll find him. Picture too. Singing to you...incredible! well the technology is incredible. As for his singing, that's for you to decide, but being his mother...i'm full on impressed and immensly proud (not p.c. to admit i know but i'm writing to friends and you'll understand me i'm sure)
Where was I? oh yes...today Matty is going off...Not actually as in 'going off'' as in out of date milk but, leaving this fair land of unemployment, credit crunch and dismal headlines for the squeeky clean, chewing gum free, frenetic life of Singapore... No rucksacks involved for his travels...Neither a business man or a traveller be.....Matty is a physio. At least his graduation earlier in 08 suggests so. Now its time for him to practice all that he has learnt, or hasn't on the fee paying public of Singapore. Is my blog going to be entirely about empty nest, mother missing son or indeed about the dreary life of a 50 something in N.London??? No of course not...that would be far too obvious... I've plenty to tell but for today at least, suffice to say that its 10 a.m. and there's just a hint of sunshine on what has been the darkest of seasons in my life. If i don't stop now, you'll hear the whole life story and that wouldn't be good. We've got a day to be done. Breakfast to be made and several hours in which to fret and frenzy over whether or not Matty should be taking or leaving this or that behind. I make no apologies for this entry. My next one is bound to be a far fuller and less complex event but then, my days are never without something to wonder about. Just wondering, which month would be best for me to go out and see him!!! Oh mothers!