29th April 2009

Thanks to the economic recession, now officially affecting everyone’s Christmas card list, Jamie has, unfortunately, been made redundant. The family joinery company he worked for has seen work drying up faster than a paddling pool in August, and John, the owner, had no choice but to let his only two employees go. Jamie was understandably gutted, made all the worse by the timing: John had come round to change our front door, and had to break the news to Jamie that he’d also be showing him the door. Talk about double blows.

To keep Jamie from wallowing too long, the family has swung into action with military efficiency. Nan has summoned him up to Yorkshire to fit some wardrobes (a sort of flat-pack therapy), Charlotte’s got shelves in urgent need of installation, and I’ve got flooring that needs replacing, though admittedly it’s waited three years already and could probably survive another six. Between us all, we’ll keep him busy until the job market stops playing dead and perks up a bit.

Sue, ever the trooper, is still juggling school duties and housework, all while heroically avoiding the various illnesses that seem to be doing the rounds. Now that the DVD collection has been fully catalogued (326 films and counting), she’s finally sitting down in the evenings to enjoy some of them. I’d forgotten what it was like to sit side by side, watching a film together without one of us snoring through the second act.

Sarah, deep in the GCSE trenches, has retreated into her bedroom like a hermit scholar. We occasionally catch a glimpse of her between revision breaks, usually heading towards the fridge with the silent determination of someone who just tackled a past paper on trigonometry.

As for me, I flew out with Roger last Thursday to visit Joan and Phillip in Italy. Despite Ryanair’s reputation as the airborne equivalent of a cattle truck, the flight was surprisingly pleasant and check-in was a doddle. Joan and Phillip met us at Ancona airport and whisked us off to Santa Vittoria, a charming hilltop town nestled in the Marche region. Their farmhouse is a delightful blend of old stone and modern comforts, surrounded by stunning countryside views in every direction (we checked, there was no bad angle).

Sadly, the weather had ideas of its own and gave us more drizzle than dazzle. It wasn’t cold, just persistently soggy. Still, we made a new four-legged friend: Wags, the neighbour’s dog, who was staying with Joan and Phillip while his owners were back in Blighty. He joined our relaxed ramblings and added a bit of cheer to the damp days.

One evening, Joan and Phillip hosted a little gathering with friends, good food, lots of chat, and a healthy dose of mutual grumbling about life, politics, and knees. It’s funny how that last one sneaks into conversation once you hit a certain age. All in all, it was a lovely, restful trip, and it was great to catch up. They’ve invited us back next year, and assuming Ryanair still exists and hasn’t started charging extra for oxygen, I’ll gladly go again.

Meanwhile, back in Newark, little Lucas caught a nasty chest bug, but he seems to be on the mend. Hopefully, he’ll be bouncing around again soon and not coughing on everything in sight.