13th March 2012

The past few weeks have been swallowed up by a special project: creating personalised video tributes for each family member. I began with Jamie, thinking it would be a quick win given his legendary aversion to cameras. Oh, the optimism. There may be hundreds of photos of him, but finding one where he isn’t mid-blink, half-turned away, or pulling a face was like searching for a sober rugby player at a post-match bath. Still, I eventually cobbled together a video I’m rather proud of, though Jamie’s reaction has been lukewarm at best. He even “forgot” to take his copy home for a week.

Nan’s video was next. This one required a bit more work, thanks to the condition of some old photographs. I restored them to a respectable state and now just hope she’ll come down for Mother’s Day so we can all watch it together.

One reason for the delay in updating my blog has been my regular trips to Thurcroft to sort Nan’s finances. Despite the cold, her house is toasty thanks to her heating system, whereas at home we tend to rely on layers, the fire, and only turn on the central heating for extreme cold or guests. Sarah’s energy-saving wisdom from university has halved our bills, though at the cost of seeing my breath indoors some mornings.

I’ve simplified Nan’s financial life by moving all her accounts to Yorkshire Bank, setting up direct debits, and cancelling unnecessary policies. I even managed to get a parking fine rescinded with a polite letter and phone call, proof that sometimes charm does work. I’m toying with the idea of persuading her to move to Harborough, but I’m not sure she’d go for it.

We did manage some lighter moments, including a bracing day out in Bridlington. The fish and chips were forgettable, but the sky was a perfect blue, and the nostalgia made up for the lack of vinegar magic. We also took in Flamborough Lighthouse, Sewerby, and Hornsea, the latter earning a place on my “must-return” list.

Another trip saw Sarah and me visiting Aunt Edna in her Sheffield care home after lunch at Ladybower Dam. At 88, she sometimes repeats herself and occasionally mistakes me for Nan or even thinks Nan is my wife. She was delighted to see us nonetheless, and we stayed for an hour before dropping Sarah back at uni. I think she’s in the best care possible.

In a fit of midlife foolishness, I agreed to play a cameo role in a rugby match for Jeremy Brown’s 50th birthday. The cameo turned into a full game. My rugby skills appear to have evaporated entirely; I couldn’t pass, kick, tackle, or even run properly. Still, I survived intact, and the post-match champagne bath with singing and silliness almost made up for the on-pitch humiliation. Sadly, the suggestion that I join the first team’s weekly baths was met with a firm “No, but odd.” I’ll have to stick to home baths.

The following evening, Sue and I went to Frank’s wedding reception (having attended his Manchester stag). We wrongly assumed there’d be a buffet. By 11 pm, we were so hungry we left with Jim and Brigitte for a curry in town.

Our central heating promptly broke, clearly out of practice from lack of use. Eon arrived on a Sunday and revived it, only for the weather to warm up immediately.

Sue and I enjoyed a Council walk around Glooston, followed by lunch at The Barn, pleasant but priced for those with a larger pension than ours. The route took us along a Roman road and past Harley’s house (Jamie’s girlfriend), whose mother had earlier passed us on horseback in the sunshine.

My birthday on 4th March was low-key, as I’m not one for making a fuss about adding another candle. Sue suggested a getaway to visit our Canadian cousin Matthew in Woking. We stayed at a DeVere hotel, with excellent food, impeccable service. An evening trip to see The Lady in Black turned into a comedy of errors as we hunted for the cinema through a Saturday-night labyrinth of wrong turns and bad directions.

The next day, a planned visit to Wisley Gardens was thwarted by a minor car accident blocking a bridge. We walked along the river instead and returned to see the AA in attendance. On the way home, we stopped at the RAF Memorial Gardens in Runnymede so Sue could find her uncle Gordon Lawrence’s name on the wall; he was a navigator in Bomber Command shot down over Prussia. With Matthew’s guidance, we found it quickly.

We continued to Windsor Castle but were driven away by crowds and rain. The car heater remained on full blast for the drive home.

Meanwhile, Jamie has bought himself a 2-litre BMW from a dealer in London. It’s presentable enough, but needs repairs; a new water pump and power steering are on order. Presently, he’s on a 10-day paid holiday, but his car troubles have clipped his wings.

The Rothwells are sunning themselves for a week in Cape Verde; it is Ellis’s first flight. Reports say he slept through most of it and that the weather is warm and bright. I’ll be quizzing them when they’re back, as it’s on my own “someday” list.

Sue and I have booked a trip to Borneo for the end of April. She’s long dreamed of seeing orangutans in the wild, and now she will. After Borneo, we’ll spend three days in Kuala Lumpur for shopping and sightseeing.

At last week’s film club, we saw We Need to Talk About Kevin. Dark, unsettling, and cleverly told in flashbacks. The bow-and-arrow massacre plot seems far-fetched, until you remember it’s set in America.

I also helped my old friend John Lee glaze his new greenhouse in Bourne. I thought the frame would be the tricky bit, but fitting glass in fading light is an exercise in patience and colourful language. We ran out of time, so he had to finish it himself the following week.

Sarah has been thriving, merits for assignments, a distinction on her latest, and a Spark Award for top student in her year. She even fielded questions at her course’s open day like a seasoned academic. After one of her salsa classes, Jamie and some friends from Harborough surprised her at her digs before they all went on a late-night McDonald’s run.

Today I’m heading to Yorkshire for lunch with Nan, armed with more financial papers.