Roland Ladley's Blog, page 5

I miss the simplicity of it

what’s not to like?

I think I miss the simplicity of it. We’re in Penkridge picking up Rebecca, Steven and Henry from Stevens mum’s. We got here early and have just taken a short walk along the canal, a waterway we know well having spent many nights here with Bex and Steven a few years back. The simplicity. Ahh. That is the simplicity of van life. Living in Doris, full time. Everything we needed and pretty much everything we owned in a 4.5 tonne truck. 

It was a simple life. Park up, do something, normally involving walking, running or a bike, eat something and then repeat. Day after day. Moving on when the mood took us and only worrying about finding a washing machine, as everything else was on board.

I miss it, I do. But do I miss it enough to want to abandon everything and head off again? Part of me says yes to that. But a larger part reminds me that we live in a beautiful cottage and still have the time and flexibility to push off in Doris, pretty much at will. That’s what’s happening next month: Scotland for 5 weeks. But it’s not quite the same. It’s, and I know I’ve rehearsed this argument many times before, living in a van full time changes your outlook on life. You are necessarily constrained by the confines of a small box. You can’t do big administrative things, because there aren’t big administrative things to get done. So you focus on, in the end, what can only be described as your wellbeing. Sure there are pinch points and compromises, but they far outweighed by the plusses. Van life focuses you onto good things. The moment you move back into a house, the world encroaches … and not much longer it takes over. 

Funny old world, isn’t it? And, I know, all this nonsense from a couple who has pretty much everything they need. So stop moaning Roland … ok. Will do.

one of the many things I’ve sold

It’s been a week of sorting and selling and, I have to stay, I’ve really enjoyed it. I don’t think it politic to mention the sums involved, but they’re worth getting out of bed for. And I can see these things heading off to people who will use them (rather than putting them into a skip), and who think they’ve secured a bargain. That makes me feel good. Oh – and I know the lady at our village post office really well now! It’s a 10 minute walk across the fields. Perfect.

C had been doing what C does. Getting the place ready for the team to arrive. She’s been baking and shopping and cleaning, and we now have enough food in the house to survive the apocalypse. Well done her. And we’ve been doing a lot of exercise. The hills here shout out to be climbed.

those hills won’t climb themselves

And we’ve just finished a big family lunch. Both kids, spouses, Henry and the dog. Fabulous in this place. Just fabulous. If we were still in Doris that would have been impossible. So, note to self: don’t be such a misery … but, the simplicity of van life, hey?

For the record we had a really productive time with Mary at the end of last week helping her sort some things and we’ve planned a further visit around the Coronation. I’ve got all that pomp and circumstance to look forward to. Yey!

Stay safe, everyone.

Our grandchildren will never forgive us

This blooming weather. And with a keen interest in climate change as always, this blooming weather. Records were broken in 2022. And this Spring, heat and cold records (have you seen the snowfall in California?) continue to get broken. Things are not settling down. I know absolutely nothing about the weather, but as I understand it El Nino, which is an east pacific weather phenomenon, looks set to be vile this year … which, so I am told, will exacerbate the extremes even more, which will break more records, which will then further influence things and  – yes, the cycle seems to get worse. 

calm before the storm

And we’re worried about whether Harry comes to the Coronation? What are we doing? Why are we not on the streets demanding change? Our grandchildren are unlikely to forgive us. 

Ho hum. 

Ok, so the weather hasn’t been that bad.

We’ve been busy. We popped down to Brizzol to see E&A, who let us have their apartment in Chatel. We had some goodies to deliver and it was great to catch up. Whilst out we bought some more stuff for the house, and there is still much to get. It may seem odd to be replacing curtains, putting up blinds and shower grab rails etc, when it’s only a rental. But it definitely is home for us. And we intend to make it so. Our biggest job is a suite of open wardrobes in the pretty big study. That’s on the market for next month.

Talking of which, I applied for mum’s probate ten days ago (I’m not sure I told you). It was a pretty straightforward event, although I’ve yet to hear back from the probate office. What I would say is if you’re dealing with an estate which has an uncontentious will and is likely to be less than the inheritance tax threshold (£650k for a couple) then do give it a go yourself. Or, DM me and I’d be delighted to help. It’s all on done via on-line forms. As we wait, I/we put the house on the market yesterday. It’s a lovely house in the best street in the village but, unsurprisingly, it’s dated and needs a lot of work. So who knows whether it will sell easily. We shall see.

Got this from mum’s. Dad is middle row on the left. Fab.

I’ve kept myself occupied by clearing P&K’s outhouses, something I promised I would do for them. It is not a small job, mostly because they’re full of past-business gubbins. The aim is to sell the stuff, for which there is a decent (for me) profit share. I’ve already had some success and I have now ventured onto eBay, a marketplace hitherto I have used on;y sparingly. So far, no hiccups. The process also ticks my ‘recycling’ bone. One of Peter’s businesses had procured a large amount of marketing stuff, much of which, in the right hands, could be used again. They had no monetary worth for us, so I took them to Gloucester and handed them back to the same company which produced them. That worked for me.

The weather has been a pain, though. Everywhere is so much nicer when Mrs Sun is out. When it’s hoofing down with rain, even the most convivial of places can lose its shine … and, when that happens, Doris shouts loudly for an excursion. Alas our next trip is not until mid-May. The good news is that between now and then we do have Bex, Steven and Henry back from the KSA. They’re only with us for 4 days, but what a four days that will be! Can’t wait to see then (especially the little chap).

Cassie came to stay

Anyhow, stay safe. We’re off to see Mary tomorrow. And then we have some old pals coming round for supper on Saturday. Hopefully the weather will perk up a bit between now and then.

That’s that, then

I was really worried about mum’s funeral. Fretfully so. It’s not because I was giving the eulogy. I have learned to see any public speaking commitment as an opportunity. And giving mum’s eulogy was a chance to let everyone know what a wonderful person she was and what I felt about her. So it wasn’t that. I guess some of it was the fact that it was mum’s funeral. But that should have made me sad, not fretful. I think it was about the choices I’d made about her send off. Was a crem service the right thing to do? Did we have the right mix of speakers? Were the hymns right? How many people would come? Was the wake (tea, wine, sandwiches and cake) the right choice? In short, was I giving her the send off she deserved?

we cleaned and sold some stuff

The thing was, it was just me making the decisions. Sure C’s always by my side and she’s very good at adding class into something which would otherwise be an Essex fest. But I was the one making the decisions. There is/was only one Ladley left in this family. Just me. And it worried me. In the end, though, it was just fabulous. (And I would have told you if it hadn’t been, I think). There were over 60 people there, a fab mix between all of the lives she touched – Army, village, Golf, family. And it had a lovely, homely weight to it. And the wake was just right too. What relief!

(Oh, and Kevin’s girls turned up – Grace read a poem – and afterwards the four of us went to Clacton to throw Kevin’s ashes off the end of the pier … which was closed, but the two girls fluttered their eyelashes at a security guard and we were in position moments later, doing the business with the backdrop of a glorious sunset.)

cheerio Kevin

Subsequently we spent three days sorting out the house. It was more of the same. Charity shops, the British Heart Foundation came around again, we did multiple trips to the dump to get rid of the recycling … and a massive skip turned up on Tuesday, which we quickly filled. We got the cleaners in on Wednesday and left on Thursday for home with just four bits of furniture unsold. Everything else is gone. It’s such a relief. 

Now we’re back home, and it’s fab. I’ve completed probate for mum’s estate and we’ve dispatched the will to the appropriate office. There’s been some other admin, but I think we can put mum on hold for now.  

And we’ve done lots of stuff. Car and Doris cleaned – we next expect to go away the van in May, hopefully Scotland for a month or so. We saw Jen and James and we’ve been kicking around the house, sorting more stuff out. I’ve taken on responsibility for clearing out a lot of kit around P&K’s estate. They have a number of lockups which have accumulated all manner of work and domestic gear which they’d like rid of. It’s given me a purpose and the weather has, at last, improved. So it’s great to be outside and making a difference. FB marketplace, Gumtree and eBay are the first port of call. I think a couple of skips might be needed later in the summer. And I’m also selling stuff of ours, and some gear we brought back from mum’s. You never know, it might become a business?

Scrub, scrub

On reflection, mum’s death hasn’t really hit me yet. Back here, now, with Mrs Sun doing her thing washing over us like a biological all-in-one conditioner, it’s very easy to forget the recent past. Maybe that’s it, though. Maybe after her stroke in 2012 when I said cheerio to her three times, there’s emotion left? Maybe. Anyhow, rest in peace, mum.

Keep safe everyone. Out to supper tonight with Daren and Karen in Chepstow. There will be plenty of motorhome/Hymer talk. Hurrah! 

Ester cometh

House clearance duties

We had a lovely, relaxed weekend with Mary last weekend. There is no doubt that Courtyard Cottage is a delight to entertain from. We had another friend of ours (and Mary’s) round on Saturday night, and Jen and James came for Sunday lunch. It was fab and, as the weather improves, things can only get better. 

back by the sea again

The rest of the week was always going to be about prepping to go to mum’s. Our ambition is to make the funeral a reflective and happy affair whilst also getting as much of the house clearance done as we can. It didn’t start well. I changed the wheels from old Focus back to new Focus (winter to summer tyres) and the locking wheel nut key sheared off. Thankfully I was on my last wheel, tightening the last summer one, so everything was done. But without a key, if we had a puncture there was no way I’d be able to get the wheel off without professional assistance (I don’t think the AA can do it either). I did some shopping around and everything pointed to taking the car to Ford, who may or may not have a master key and, if not, would be able to forcibly remove the wheels.

we caught a bus

Ho hum. In the end we used Ford in Colchester, dropped her off and then took the bus into town. We were quoted £120 plus the cost of new nuts (ouch). In the end, the moment we got off the bus in the town centre we had a call from Ford to say it was ready. We had a quick McD’s and got the bus back. The bill was £35, including replacement nuts (not locking), so they all got a box of biscuits from Tescos. It just shows you that sometimes it’s best to use a main dealer. Fab.

wheelnut broken and key sheared

[On a less exciting note the Focus spent a few seconds ‘missing’ in 6th gear today. We had this problem once on the way down to Chatel, revved the engine and it went away. The same happened today. I’ve spoken to the garage we bought it from and they are happy to take her in and lend us a car (it’s still under warranty). I’ll see how that goes.]

Mum’s has been fine. Kevin’s girls came last weekend and took what they wanted. It didn’t clash with our list so we’re all happy. Mum’s not a hoarder, but there’s still an awful lot of stuff. An awful lot. Sadly much of it is chipped or scratched, the outcome of a few years of near blindness. I have tried to Gumtree some stuff with limited success. There are a few bits which I will take away and try and sell, but we have found a friendly charity shop who will take most things. In addition, British Heart Foundation sent round a large lorry and two (very nice) brutes of men who took away five bits of furniture (which they will do for you). They’re coming back on Monday for some smaller pieces and some bric-a-brac. And we have a gihuge skip coming on Tuesday which will take the rest of the nonsense.

we’ve been recycling

But … we have tried. As a bravo to us we have gone out of our way to separate glass, cardboard, metal and clothes, and use then recycling centre -with whom we are now good friends. The skip will help finish the job but, by then we sincerely hope to have passed on anything useful and recycled everything we can. It’s been quite an effort, but I hope it’s been worth it.

For the record – and maybe I should have started with this – early on we contacted a local house clearance company. I sent them a video of the house and they came back with a quote of £1900. That’s what we would have to pay. They would take everything, sell (for themselves) what they could, and dump the rest in landfill. The skip, which is the biggest domestic one they do, comes in at £360 … so we’ve saved the estate a good deal of money whilst doing our bit for the environment. Good-oh!

we had some tea

And we have tried to stay fit, running and walking where we can. C’s not been at her best. I have, thankfully, got over the issues I was having ‘down below’ but, it is fair to say, having had a washout in Chatel we’re both looking forward to some downtime when this is over.

Anyhow, I hope you are all keeping safe. The cost of living crisis remains a misery for most (my mum’s gas and electricity bill for the next 12 months was predicted to be just shy of £4000 … and she’s an old lady living on her own!) and I feel for anyone trying to make ends meet. For me, my eyes are on the longer term future … and the climate, and poor old Henry (grandson). The latest IPCC report is eye wateringly bad, although nobody in government seems to care. It does my head in, it really does. Oh well. 

Life goes on

A short paragraph on politics. I think the latest immigration bill is a betrayal of our values. Whether it stops the boats we’ll only know in time, but I sense not. What it does is it prevents any asylum application (unless there is a pre-existing process, such as for Ukraine). Which answers the question. Are there any Ukrainians on the boats? No. Why? Because there are safe and legal routes for Ukrainians to enter this country (the same exists for Hong Kong nationals, but not for Afghans, where there is a process but it is much more arcane and, as a result, the numbers are tiny in comparison to the need). So, to stop the boats we need to establish safe and legal routes for all people seeking asylum to the UK. These could be at embassies in any country, or in a big shed in Calais – you choose. Those who pass our ‘test’ are brought here without jeopardy. Those who fail the tests (I don’t know what the tests are but, currently, well over half who land on our beaches pass the tests when they eventually get round to being processed) and then try to cross the Channel, well I for one am happy for those to be repatriated … or dispatched to a third safe country. There. That’s solved it? But my approach wouldn’t be a dog whistle to the far right voters, which is what this government is doing. It’s tragic. 

Ok. Back on track. 

we went to theatre

Our trip to London was fab. Grace’s play, in a tiny theatre on the Isles of Dogs, was fun. It wasn’t necessarily my kind of thing, but we all enjoyed ourselves. It was fab of C’s cousin, Eva, to put us up, and we had a lovely time … including a trip to the revamped Battersea power station which is well worth a visit if you’re ever in town. After that we had a very relaxed weekend, among other things, looking after Peter and Karen’s dog, who has got to be the easiest dog-sit in Christendom. We’ve both been running and walking in the fabulous countryside and generally feeling very pleased with ourselves as to our choice of house. 

It’s looking fab

I have been working on mum stuff. It’s coming together. There is a whole lot to do and many phone calls to make, but I think I’m getting there. Sympathies keep coming in, which is lovely, and it does feel very strange not having to call her every morning (pretty much on the dot at exactly 9.30) to hear her cheery voice. But, to be honest, that is also a relief. Like most older people living on her own she was never too far from domestic catastrophe. I remember a couple of weeks before she died (when we were still in Chatel) we had a conversation about a persistent cough that she had … which, I think in the end, did for her. Bless her.

still running, whatever the weather

I have been sacked from ghostwriting. That’s harsh, but it is pretty much the nub of it. I am three stages removed from the decision making process, so I sense much is lost via Chinese whispers, but the best my mate can give me (and I know he’s trying his best to resolve this in our/my favour) is ‘the publishers want their own ghost writer’. OK. That’s fine, but there has been no explanation as to why I can’t be it, bearing in mind I’m a no-cost option. If they don’t like my style, that’s fine, but it would be nice to hear that from them. So I better get on and do something else. Just for the sake of it, I might publish here what I’ve written so far. It’s about 20,000 words and, I think, the start of a fascinating story. Let me dwell on that.

Oh, and I fixed the car. She is still under warranty and the garage was prepared to take her in and sort the problem. But it’s a faff of a journey, so I did it here. Apparently the Mk3 Ford Focus has a water ingress problem, which we noted in the boot and the rear seats. It’s a design fault, which I won’t bore you with. But to fix it I had to remove the rear bumper, remove four rubber vents, dry out a couple of compartments, drill two holes in two rubber bungs, seal (which they weren’t) the four vents back in place, and then put the bumper back on. Done! And I really enjoyed it. It was all very satisfying.

I fixed the car

And last night we had a lovely supper with our landlords (P&K) and another army couple, who we know well. The husband is one level down from ‘a master of wine’, which is a big cheese in the wine industry. He generously brought a selection of fine wines which we quaffed as he explained their backgrounds. It was great to catch up with old pals and get slightly sloshed at the same time. As a result we were slightly worse for wear this morning … oh well.

someone’s cooking

On, on. I’m picking up Mary from Godalming on Friday. She’s with us for the weekend. As a result C’s baking and cooking for Europe. And at the end of next week we’re off to mum’s for a week of admin and (gulp) her funeral. I hope that goes as well as can be expected.

Stay safe everyone. 

Almost, but not quite, back to normal

Well that was a lovely weekend. We had C’s sister Annie down (with two Jack Russells who were better behaved than their breed might suggest). And then Jen and James popped in  today for Sunday lunch. Roast lamb was enjoyed by all. It was particularly good to see Annie. We walked the estate on Saturday morning ending up at the Vestry cafe, which is in the village (Uley). It’s not what you expect … in that you might think it would be a bit vinyl table and polyprop chair. It is not. It’s all heavy wooden furniture and tasteful decor and the food and coffee is lovely. Well done them.

Annie cam down …

That capped off a week where, as best we could, we finished off mum’s affairs in Great Bentley, and we registered her death in Colchester before heading home via Mary’s. I’d like to think I have come to terms with the whole thing, but I sense that I have not. Out of sight is … well, you know the saying. I guess we’ll have a relapse come the funeral. And, back home, I have spoken to the banks etc and I am just one more ‘tell us that your mum died’ communication from finishing the whole sorry affair. That’s tomorrow’s job. And then probate. That’ll be fun.

My ‘registering mum’s death face’ we found a nice cafe in Dursley

It is fab to be back in Dursley. The house is pretty perfect and the grounds to die for. We have been out on our feet a lot – I have run twice. And it’s always a pleasure. There is so much space and so much wildlife. We have two resident buzzards and there was a red kite overhead yesterday. Cassie, Jen’s dog, had a half hearted attempt to chase a deer as it dashed out in front of us across a field earlier today. There are sheep and owls and moles and who knows what else. And it’s all so open. We are residents so we can walk any field we like and that makes us feel immensely privileged. Fabulous.

I washed Annie’s car, and ours. And I started to look around Doris, to make sure she’s in good nick (after a ‘no advisories’ recent MoT – yippee). She needs a good wash and I might get round to that this week. I’m keen to get away in her but I feel that C will be more inclined to enjoy her new home, which is wholly understandable. I think we might end up breaking clean in mid-May with a trip to Scotland. We’ll see.

Cassie came for lunch.

In the meantime I’m waiting out for my mate and his book. It’s been over three weeks now which, in many ways, has been a fortuitous gap, as it allowed us to entertain Bex, Steven and Henry in Chatel, and then for me to be with and then process mum’s death. If I don’t have an answer (on the book) by the end of the week, I think I’ll start to get a little anxious. If the answer is ‘no’, I’ve got a job to do to work out what I do next. If my Bill Brysonesque writing style (for Guy’s book) is not what the publishers want, then maybe it’s time to hang up my fountain pen and try something else? Perhaps. 

We’re off to London on Wednesday. My late brother Kevin’s younger daughter Grace has just graduated from drama college and her show is being put on in a theatre in London. C and I are staying with her cousin Eva and we’re all heading out for the evening. How lucky are we? And then, on the way home on Thursday, we’re popping into Windsor Castle. Friends of ours have a job there, of which I will regale the details when we next chat.

Until then, stay safe!

A few tears …

I think many of you will already know that we lost mum on Saturday. I’m not up for a eulogy, but it’s safe to say that she leaves a hole which – as you’d expect – no one can fill. You only get one mum. In the end she died peacefully and pain free in Colchester General, having lived the life she wanted to live. At 89 that’s pretty much as good as it gets and we have so much to be thankful for. Bless her and may she rest forever in peace …

… and a huge thanks to the NHS, Colchester General and Langham Ward. Everyone has been fabulous. 

I think that mum’s process over the past year from ‘steady on her feet’ to really rather poorly and then not with us, has taught me some lessons and, if you don’t mind, I’d like to share those with you just in case you’re heading that way anytime soon.

First ‘Careline’ are/is fabulous. They operate throughout the country and provided you have a landline or wifi, it costs around £20 per month for an older person to have a wristband or necklace with a big red button. They press the button when they’re in distress and, via a loudspeaker, an operator calls them, assesses the situation and phones their next-of-kin (me, in this case). I think I’ve spoken to them ten times in two years and every time they have deployed a medic, who triages and, if necessary, calls an ambulance. If you don’t have live-in carers it’s the next best thing for peace of mind. I can’t recommend them enough. 

Next is UTIs, or urinary tract infections. Old people, men and women, get UTIs. It’s all about hydration, cleanliness and incontinence. They get poorly pretty quickly (lethargy etc) but, most of all, they can quickly make no sense … as if they’ve taken LSD or something similar. Dad used to see things. On Monday Mum wanted to know who the lady in pink was with the baby, pointing at an empty chair. From there they can deteriorate very quickly and a UTI can very easily turn into sepsis, which will likely kill them. The madness is (no pun intended), UTIs are cured quickly with antibiotics. The problem is getting an old person, who is not thinking straight, to take their medicine.

Bottom line, if your elderly loved one starts to make no sense, get them to a doctor as soon as possible. It can be easily sorted. It was a UTI which put mum in hospital. Deeper, underlying things killed her, but the UTI was the spotter.

Finally, when it comes to making decisions about the elderly, insofar as care/care homes etc, try and take as much time as possible. For many, and I include us last summer, we wanted a quick fix – actually, as we had to get Henry to Saudi, we needed a quick fix. In retrospect I probably didn’t spend enough time thinking through what was best for mum which, of course, was best for us. I regret that, but thankfully no harm was done. 

Thanks for listening, by the way.

We’ve got a couple of more days here … a meeting on Wednesday to register mum’s death. And then we’re back home via Mary’s mid-week. Some of you may wish to know when the funeral is. It’s planned for Monday 27th March at 3.30pm at Weeley crem, followed by tea at St Mary’s church in Great Bentley. You’re more than welcome to attend. 

Other than losing my mum (cheeky grin) we’re fine. It’s a strange old life, isn’t it? Doubtless there will be plenty more tears. In the meantime I’m reaching for my glass of cider.

Keep safe everyone.

A bit mis, really

The news is that mum is not well. It’s been one of those stories, where a UTI knocked her sidewards. We were involved (by phone) with multiple doctor/medic/ambulance visits until she agreed, reluctantly, to go into hospital yesterday afternoon. Now, 24 hours later, the news is pretty dire. I won’t say any more than that, but the prognosis for a return to anything close to normal looks unlikely, if not impossible. One of her close friends has been in this evening as have her two granddaughters (Kevin and Tracey’s). And we hope to get there by teatime tomorrow. It’s all pretty bleak, I’m afraid. There’s a background story behind this which involves the care we put in place and the danger to older people from UTIs, but I’ll leave that. The bottom line is that when you get v old (mum’s 89) any infection can do substantial damage. 

No words

Focusing v much on the living we had a lovely time with Rebecca, Steven and Henry. I took them to Geneva airport on Friday and C said that she cried as we left. They have that affect. It was great to give them the opportunity to ski whilst we looked after his nibs. Henry continues to have a draw which I can’t explain. Sure, like any kid, he can be a pain in the backside. But for 70% of the time he is a bundle of absolute joy, so much so that I can’t begin to explain. It was sad to see them go but there is a possibility we might catch up with them over the Easter break.

We’ve left early to get back to see mum. I made the decision that rather than do the French motorways (tolls = 80 euros) we would take the shortest route through Switzerland and use the French A roads, stopping as far north as we could make it. And it has proven to be a sensible choice. The route is lovely, with plenty of long A-road stretches which are typically French … that is empty and easy. And the route out through Switzerland was beautiful. We’ve stopped at St Quentin for the night, just a short 150 miles from Calais, so our assault on the UK will begin in earnest tomorrow. And, you’ll be pleased to hear, the car has been faultless.

and again

I’m OK. My back/rear end has improved, but is not fixed. We’ve agreed to to give it until next Monday. If it isn’t better by then I’ll take professional advice. And I’m still waiting for the publishers to come back ref my mate, Guy’s, book. As such we’ve both hit the pause button until we get news.

our Swiss coffee stop this morning

That’s it from me. Short this week, but having driven 350 miles I am a bit exhausted. 

Keep safe.

Still sore

It all kicked off on Friday when the kids arrived. I have to say that Geneva is a rubbish city to transit (avoiding the motorways, where the Swiss expect you to pay for an annual vignette, even if you only want to use the autoroutes for a couple of kilometres). And Geneva airport is a mess. It’s small and tight, and the parking is poor and, whilst my French and German are both probably good enough to follow road signs, whatever language they were using around the airport was almost incomprehensible. And there was a brand new road layout, which confused every driving aid I had, and I had two. Anyhow, I made it with a few minutes to spare, and it was fab to pick up Bex, Steven and, of course, the young lad – although the return journey was 40 minutes longer than necessary as everyone was heading for the mountains. 

But they made it. Phew. 

trouble’s here

We took Henry up the mountain at Abondance yesterday (down the valley from Chatel). There’s a beginners’ area which you can see from a lovely cafe and connects to a couple of half decent runs. It wasn’t a wash out. At 2.3 years old, Henry is almost certainly one of the v youngest on the slopes and, whilst everyone acknowledges ‘the earlier the better’, I think our expectations were too high. The thing is he already rides a balance bike like a six year old, and pushes his scooter like a pro. We had tears and some skiing, but only a little. Thankfully Rebecca and Steven had a chance to ski. But not much, although they were rewarded with a night out with grandpa and granny C acting as babysitters.

Today was better. Bex and Steven went off on their own and C and I drove back down to Abondance where there is a travelator in the village. I took Henry up and down five times (and once on his sledge), with him between my legs, and he loved it – but I sense we’re not going solo anytime soon. Indeed, I suspect he won’t be free from an adult connection until next year. But it is fab watching him enjoy the snow. C and I really appreciate how lucky we are to have this opportunity … and, of course, that Bex, Steven and Henry have the opportunity too. It’s not every family which manages a week in the mountains. 

big shop before the hordes arrive

Having said that my tail has continued to be sore, so much so it wakes me up at night. And I think I have come to the conclusion that lifting the lad, or just manhandling him with his skis on, might not be helping. It’s a so-and-so, because there is so much more I’d like to be doing, and I can’t see it improving much before the end of the week when they have to fly back to KSA.

Moving on. No news on a publisher for the book. Guy and I did some more work mid-week and we are now 22k in. I’m still loving it, but I’m really keen not to commit much more until we know that whoever is going to publish the book wants my style. Interestingly I think I’m now at the stage where I really want to complete this (I’m enjoying it so much), but I will do as I’m told. 

so beautiful here

Apart from that, we’re fine. Politics et al, of course, continues to play on my mind.You may not know but high temperatures in Chile have broken records, and floods in New Zealand have caused once in a generation devastation. Truss is ‘making a comeback’. And Johnson – as a mere backbencher – visited Ukraine and then the US, meeting up with the Republican Party. Why can’t these people – who have been sacked by their own party – now just accept that they are finished in public life and go and do something useful, like run a whelk stand?

And as for the earthquake in Turkey/Syria, I can’t look at the images. I suppose, for me, at least the devastation wasn’t (not withstanding poor building regs) man made. Unlike Ukraine, where the war continues to take its toll on soldiers and civilians alike. Give Ukraine the weapons … as many as they need. And let them finish the job and get Putin out of office once and for all.

Anyhow. That’s enough from me. Stay safe everyone.    

I had a fall

I took a fall on Thursday. It was our 4th in 7 days of skiing, and we had decided to go to the end of the valley: Pre la Joux. It is a bowl of modern chairlifts, big, long reds and always plenty of people as it connects to the Portes du Soleil. We have skied there many times. It’s normally interconnected with the rest of Chatel, and you can ski across, but a couple of lifts were down. So we shuttled by ski bus down the valley, took a couple of chairlifts to the highest point on an arete overlooking Avoriaz, and Mount Blanc on the horizon. It was clear blue skies, calm and the conditions were excellent.

Me, after my fall

I started my descent – I nearly always lead, with C never far behind. She is not happy with me on her tail. It’s a reminder of when we were poor skiers and I would frighten her by getting too close. I was turning every three or four seconds, looking to cut off the red just above a lip, into a shush blue which C wanted to do. In an instant a madman cut in front of me from over my left shoulder just as I turned left myself … we missed each other by maybe half a metre. I then turned right and skied straight into his pal … who was also motoring.

I don’t remember what happened next. My skies stayed where they were. I ended up five metres away on my back. And the bloke had disappeared, planks still obviously on his feet. I have to say I screamed for about a second – I thought I had broken something. And then I shouted at the man, who was already nowhere to be seen. 

we watched some of the European women’s downhill. Look at their skis!

Actually I was fine, in that I could move all my limbs, C and another man collected my skis and checked I wasn’t dead. I got up, brushed myself off and we skied on for another couple of hours. But I was and I am sore. Lower back, pelvis, buttocks. No bruises evident, apparently (my nurse told me so), but it’s not been comfortable. And I know this sounds v man-flu like, but my neck is sore from whiplash. Bastard speedsters.  

Other than that! We’re fine. It is fair to say that this year is different and we can’t really put our finger on it. C had a fall off the end of a chairlift on day one of skiing and also hurt her back which knocked her confidence. We haven’t attacked the walking like we used to, although we have been out every day. The conditions have been excellent, so it’s not an overcast thing, although it does feel a little like that. Maybe it’s just where we find ourselves, which is blooming ridiculous and pretty demeaning to those who don’t have our opportunities. Although …

we’re ok

… I follow a number of full timers and similar on Instagram. And I often get posts where people who are, to all intents and purposes living the dream, have a really bad period – tears and everything. When you are living and experiencing the life you thought you wanted, and you wake up and, for some inexplicable reason, it isn’t, I think that makes the drop more difficult to reconcile. If you’re in a bad relationship, or you don’t like where you work, or any of the myriad of issues which can bring you down, at least then you can point at the problem. Other than a very sore pelvis, I have nothing to prod at. Nothing to change, I don’t think. 

(I can hear tiny violins playing and I don’t blame you one jot.)

It’s not that bad, it isn’t. It’s just that everytime we come here we are all over ‘which chalet or apartment would we buy?’ This time, v clearly, a life in the Alps is not the panacea. Maybe that’s a Brexit thing. Or maybe, with every thank we can muster to Elizabeth and Andrew, our ridiculously inexpensive landlords, we have what we want and need. And we should be v happy with that. And we now have a lovely home to return to. C and I have literally just discussed that, my fingers hovering above the keyboard. That does make a difference. We miss being at home, albeit one we have only lived in for less than a month. Interesting that …

(And, maybe surprisingly, just by writing this I am feeling more grateful, more positive, so thanks for that.)  

I’m sorting the patio

I continue to ghostwrite. I’m now 14k words in and should be up to 18k by the time the publisher sits mid-week. I will stop at the end of this chapter and wait to see if there is an offer and, more importantly, whether they like my style of writing (of Guy’s memoir). I described last time how tricky it is – indeed, I wrote something in Chapter 3 which Guy just didn’t want in. I was pressing the boundaries of what I might expose (of things he had told me), and went too far. It’s all about getting to know your subject, so I’m not worried.

Oh, and I’ve had a go at the patio! When we are here we do try to run some errands. The property (which is lovely) is 30 years old and, like any place, needs upkeep. My job this time around is to replace some tiles on the patio, something I am having a go at, although I do appreciate the issue of mortar and freezing temperatures. Wish me luck!  

Anyhow, we’ve decided not to ski again until Monday, so I guess today we might be heading downtown for a coffee! It’s a tough life …

Living the dream …? Sure we are.

Stay safe everyone.