Bermudababble Week Twenty-Five
I decided to get hiking this week, inspired by the idea of hitting the beach in Sydney and having to do a bit of telly, which adds the pounds! I waved the Major off to work on his funky moped and walked over the hill, heading towards the other side of the island and the heavens opened!
It was one of those tropical rainstorms that leave you looking like you have had buckets of water thrown over you. I was soaked through; my hair was stuck to my face and my eyelashes meshed with raindrops. I ploughed on regardless, up Spice Hill Road and through the snicket towards Riddell’s Bay – when the sun decided to make a guest appearance from behind the grey cloud. In an instance it was hot and after a few moments, I realized I was steaming! A light twist of smoke rose from my clothing. A big THANK YOU! To all the taxi drivers, students on the bus and the two soldiers that felt the need to heckle me as they drove past.
I met my good friend Mr Simmons who is quite possible the most beautiful man I have ever seen, (yeah yeah, the Major knows!) He has the bluest eyes imaginable, a foot wide smile and cheekbones you could cut slate on! He was as usual on one of his jaunts around the island. We sat on a wall and chatted for over an hour, he told me about his travels around the world and then showed me pictures of his kids and grandchildren and great grandchildren and great great… oh you get the idea. In his late 90’s, he showed me his bus pass, which rather than saying Senior Citizen or OAP, simply has the words Special Person written across the top, I really like that.
I didn’t realize it was Bonfire Night until I saw a tweet mentioning it. I felt a real pang of homesickness and spent the afternoon picturing Nov 5th’s of my childhood, which were awesome! My dad letting off inappropriately large fireworks in our back garden, my mum serving hot jacket spuds that dripped melted butter down your chin and my brothers and I in identical hand knitted jumpers, wellies and jeans, screaming from behind the exclusion zone! If I close my eyes I can smell the air even now.
PICK UP YOUR STUFF MAJOR PROWSE!
Apologies to all who heard me swearing over the sea, I broke my toe! Being sweet and not wanting to wake my husband, I decided to navigate our bedroom in the dark after my 3am loo visit – you know how it is! As I walked back into the room, I kicked the bedframe and so instead of waking the Major with a slight flicker of lamplight, I woke him by screaming expletives like a banshee and burying my head under the pillow as I screamed and cried. My poor toe looks like a little burnt sausage and it really hurts! It didn’t help that the next day I then kicked a rucksack that had been left on the floor, not naming any names, but PICK UP YOUR STUFF MAJOR PROWSE!
I went into Hamilton to collect for the RBL poppy appeal, armed with my shaking tin and paired with my friend, we took up our spot and did great! Last year I was in central London travelling around on the RBL bus, stopping at all major stations with my collecting bucket, this year I was on Front Street with palm trees swaying in the sunshine, rattling my tin! It still felt good to know I was helping a little bit with the awesome international work of the RBL who are there for all those who have served and their families. Poppy Day novel as ever is available as an eBook or in print http://amzn.to/1gjJCEn and 100% of my royalties forever and ever will go to the RBL – why? ‘cos I’m an army wife and it’s my way of saying a big thank you to my husband and all those like him who serve to keep me and my family safe.
Can I just say a big thank you to all who have purchased and read Poppy Day – your support means the world to me.
Weather picked up midweek and Thursday and Friday were positively hot. I keep expecting the good weather to come to an end, like it does in the UK when the summer ends and you pack up the BBQ and deflate the paddling pool for another year, but here its only ever a blip and there is more sun around the corner. It’s lovely, but I hanker for cold fields, misty mornings, thick socks and frosty nights in front of a fire…
Squishing the odd cockroach is one thing, but ant genocide? Not for me.
At least a cold snap might rid us of the ants that are in everything! I remember when the term ‘ants in your pants’ was a saying and not a fact. Trouble is they look so darn busy and clever as they march in neat little rows to and from the window sill with infinitesimal crumbs, that I can’t bear to put down the killer ant traps I bought, guaranteed to kill the queen and the whole colony in 24 hours! I just can’t do it! Squishing the odd cockroach is one thing, but ant genocide? Not for me. I’m considering naming the first five hundred and making them my pets, which would somehow make them seem less invasive and more like visitors.
I was cornered by a four year old this week who asked me if Father Christmas visited my sons in England, I told her that he did. She considered this before asking, ‘How does he visit your sons in England and me in Bermuda on the same night?’ I didn’t know how to answer so used the old, ‘shall we go and find a sweetie?’ diversion. Didn’t know what to say, so, answers on a postcard please…
Remembrance Day – I’m thinking about my grandad Joe – as I do most days but more so today. He was a member of the RAF Regiment in WWII and this for a Jewish East End boy who hadn’t seen further than the docks, was his greatest adventure. He is the reason I started to think about Nov 11th as a child and he was the one who taught me the importance of respecting those who have fought to keep me safe. He loved my husband very much, proud that I married a soldier. Urgh, crying now, so will sign off.
We Will Remember Them.
Mandy x
©Amanda Prowse – all enquiries PFD ajhughes@pfd.co.uk. +44 (0)20 7344 1084
