21st June 2011

On the health front, I’ve clocked up another two hospital visits involving scans, prods, and the kind of “hmm” noises from medical staff that do nothing for one’s confidence. I’ve donated blood samples twice, but the results remain as elusive as the plot of Inception. Another scan is booked for July; at this rate, there can’t be much of me left unexplored.

In the meantime, they’ve given me medication which, according to the internet, is for depression. This was news to me. Perhaps they’re running out of ideas, or perhaps they think I’m barking mad. Either way, after one tablet left me feeling like I’d been tranquillised (and with a strict “no alcohol” warning, outrageous), I decided lethargy and forgetfulness weren’t on my prescription wish list.

One afternoon, Jamie invited us for tea. On arrival, we found Harley diligently working on coursework in the lounge while a newly domestic Jamie was actually cleaning his bathroom. I’m still waiting for the results of that scan to confirm I wasn’t hallucinating.

Nan’s birthday was next on the calendar. I won’t mention her age; she reads this blog, but I will say we celebrated with a rather epic day trip to Canterbury. We boarded a special First Class train from Harborough at 7:15 am, arriving home at 10:45 pm. Coffee, pastries, and cream scones softened the early start, and the scenic branch lines were charming… until we stepped off into a downpour.

After lunch (courtesy of Charlotte), the rain eased just enough to lure us onto a boat ride. Predictably, halfway along the river, the heavens opened, and we had to abort before we sank. Canterbury, it turned out, was heaving with loud French schoolchildren who seemed unimpressed by our quiet English charm. We took refuge in the cathedral, a stunning example of what British craftsmen can achieve when the local vicar wants something grand, before warming up with hot chocolate in a cobbled street café.

A tour of the cathedral quarter’s charity shops followed, but the rain drove us into a pub until train time. The journey home offered a fleeting glimpse of the White Cliffs of Dover before darkness fell. We shared a carriage with a couple from Husbands Bosworth, who spent most of the trip eating food they produced from every conceivable hiding place, like magicians with a catering licence.

Friday brought a six-mile ramble for Sue and me, organised by Harborough Council, retracing historian Michael Wood’s BBC Story of England route in Kibworth. We dodged one heavy shower and bumped into an old neighbour who’d serviced both our cars last month, apparently just before retiring. Clearly, we have that effect on people.

I finally managed to attend the Welland Valley Beer Festival, an annual pub crawl made civilised by the use of vintage buses. The weather was perfect, the pubs plentiful, the ale varied, and the food abundant. Everything ran like clockwork, which meant we could drink without dashing, a rare pleasure.

On a rainy Sunday, Sue and I had a late lunch at Joules Courtyard while a local band, East-West, provided the soundtrack. The weather was miserable, but indoors with good food and music, it didn’t matter.

Sarah spent most of her time barricaded in her room, revising with the dedication of a monk, if monks lived on highlighter pens and coffee. Last week alone, she and I put in 15-hour days going over her coursework. She absorbed facts at a frightening rate and could reel them off like a human encyclopaedia. When she tested me, I was hopeless. Today, she sat her last exam, and we celebrated with a Thai meal with Nan. Fingers are firmly crossed.

The pigeons are back in the apple tree, laying two more eggs in last year’s nest. Sarah also spotted another nest in the tree opposite her window, occupied by chicks so tame they don’t bother flying off when approached, possibly last year’s offspring.

Father’s Day arrived in the middle of revision, so I wasn’t expecting much. But we were invited to Rothwell for Sunday lunch: Jamie produced a starter of Sainsbury’s sardines, and Charlotte made a delicious chicken dinner for nine. Sarah and I left early for a final Sociology session, while Sue and Nan caught a lift home later with Charlotte.