I am becoming a connoisseur of the eightieth birthday(or Golden Wedding) lunch. It is a wonderful stage of life, this, I go to beautiful parties and gaze round the room at old friends with their children, and grandchildren and at the same time I am fed with delicious food. A lovely one last Saturday in the Cotswolds, but the journeys there and back were hazardous on the M4 in the wind and rain, though I did see a perfect rainbow on the way there.
In the evening I went to a Quiz in the Parish Room next door. Why, I wonder, is it so satisfying to know the answer to a totally useless question when others do not? The supper there was good too.
Last week I went to see Bright Star, a film on the life of John Keats. I felt that it did not make JK quite lovable enough, he looked a bit grubby and seedy, but I loved it, and am still processing it in my mind.
Poor grand daughter Grace`s broken arm is an ongoing saga. She is on her fourth plaster (white red, purple etc She has taken at least one GSCE mock having been starved as her pinning operation has been planned for the afternoon. The docs keep changing their minds. What a palaver. She does not want to do any more horse riding. I am thankful.
I am off to Godfrey Heaven`s humanist funeral in a minute driving some elderly Quakes. He was a splendid ninety five year old with a great zest for life and won a poetry prize last year.

wild west winds

I have done a lot of driving lately through gales and torrential rain, firstly down to Cornwall with (almost ) blind friend B, where I spent a few blissful days of R and R mostly sitting by the fire reading or just gazing out at the lovely Fal estuary as it was too wet and muddy for much walking with the dog. Then I whizzed off to Brighton for a night, and the next day to yet another eightieth birthday party in the New Forest. I took three nonagenarians, so I felt quite young and skittish.
I had a gloomy Saturday morning doing the Fire Risk Assessment, and felt that the house was going to burst into flames at any moment, what with the bedding under the stairs, the music cupboard on the landing and the cloth around the door handle to prevent it banging. So I have spent most of the day dealing with these fearful hazards.. Also we are going to terrify all the Quakers and residents by having a few fire drills on Sunday mornings.
I am planning some Christmas parties, and family get togethers, I love making lists and plans.

no sun, no shine, November.

November here with deluging rain, and gales, but there was a good turn out of Quakers this morning, and a lively Meeting with Friends bobbing up right left and centre with ministry. There is the business Meeting after Meeting on the first Sunday of the month followed by lunch for anyone who wants to stay, so it is a busy day for me, but I have had a good read of the Observer this afternoon, before tackling the daily monumental task of raking up leaves. I look at the thousands of leaves still up there on the magnolia tree and the huge beech and my heart sinks.
Then I booked up a pre Christmas flight on Ryanair to stay with sister J, which I always find a very stressful process (have I booked the right day, time, month, is the plane going to crash, should I have booked another day ?)
Friday in Brighton was an anxious day as grand daughter G was thrown from a horse on a country path and broke her arm quite badly. J and D were at work so I went in the ambulance with her and our experience at A and E was not good to say the least. J said it was like something out of Dickens. One harassed nurse seemed to be the only one there and she said she had sixty patients to look after, so we came pretty far down the list. In the evening when we were all finally at home, J said she just felt thankfulness, it could have been so much worse.We don`t feel so keen on hose riding any more, think they will give it a miss for a while.