29th April 2018

It rained yesterday, it’s raining today, and there’s no rugby on the television or at the club, at least none worth watching. And it is a Saturday! Mia stayed with us overnight while Lee and Sarah were in Peterborough racing, cheering on much slimmer and faster versions of their Mia as they tore around a track after a piece of rag that bore little resemblance to a hare and would fool nothing but an overexcited greyhound. By the afternoon, they had returned, and my floppy-eared little bundle of rainy-day distraction was whisked away.

During the morning, before losing my furry companion, I rang Jim in Cyprus. Predictably, the temperature there was in the high twenties (a mere seven degrees here), dry and sunny. We discussed a problem he was having with his pool pump, as Bridget was eager for a swim later. Meanwhile, I gazed wistfully through the sun lounge window at my own blue circle of frigid rainwater (a bracing four degrees), as the rain arrowed down from the leaden skies, peppering its surface with ripples. Why did I even call?

Despite the gloom, I did manage a small triumph today. After several trips outside and a few precarious ascents of a wet, slippery ladder, I installed a new external alarm bell on the front of the house. It replaced the one that had given up about a year ago, and now, when the alarm is triggered, we can once again succeed in irritating the neighbours.

On 31st March, Charlotte was discharged from the hospital. She spent the weekend at home, but even with all the equipment provided, navigating a three-storey house was a considerable challenge.

On April Fools’ Day, Sue and I rounded off the weekend with a Beach Boys tribute concert in Kettering.

The following day marked the start of the Easter break for Lucas and Ellis. With this in mind, a stoical, much-improved and dosed-up Charlotte arrived with the boys. Predictably, the weather turned for the worse, with cold and rain making an unwelcome return, and it lingered up to the time of writing this blog.

On the 5th of April, we were granted an unexpected reprieve. For once, we awoke to a sunny day and decided to make the most of it with a spot of shopping in Harborough. We collected Charlotte, who was delighted simply to feel the warmth of the sun, and was content in her wheelchair, while the boys were thrilled to escape the confines of the house. On the way home to Willow Bank, we chose to extend our outing with refreshments at the café in Welland Park.

Disaster struck as I attempted to help Charlotte from her wheelchair into a café chair. She lost her balance and landed heavily on the floor. At first, she appeared unharmed, but within ten minutes, the pain set in. Even with morphine, she remained in great distress for the rest of the day, and we returned her home to Rothwell, subdued.

The following day, Charlotte had an appointment with a specialist. I drove her there, and Suraj joined us. The doctor explained her condition and the proposed treatment plan with great care. Charlotte had come well-prepared, armed with a list of questions, and carefully noted down all his responses. Reassuringly, he did not believe her fall the previous day had caused any lasting damage, a relief for us all.

On 7th April, I caught the 7:15 a.m. train from Harborough with Jeremy, Jim and Paul, bound for Twickenham to watch the Tigers take on Bath. Before the match, we squeezed in a visit to J.M.W. Turner’s London home, Sandycombe Lodge. Designed by Turner himself, the house proved a fascinating stop. Recently restored, it had fallen into disrepair after the war, when it was repurposed as a factory for manufacturing airmen’s goggles.

Ahead of kick-off, we enjoyed a couple of convivial hours at the White Swan, a riverside pub on the north bank of the Thames, before a light lunch in a charming café in Twickenham village. For once, the Tigers were far too strong for their opponents, and the day was ours!

To celebrate the victory, we enjoyed a delightful meal at an Italian restaurant. The evening was made even more memorable when a table of Bath supporters generously sent over a bottle of red wine. It was a thoughtful, sporting gesture, one I doubt would ever occur at a football match.

After a visit to an Irish pub near the station for more refreshments, we caught the 9:30 p.m. train from St. Pancras back to Harborough, content after a thoroughly enjoyable day out.

On the 9th, Sue and I travelled to Salford, while Sarah looked after Charlotte and the boys during our absence. The previous week, Uncle Stanley’s social worker had contacted us, requesting our support during her next visit. Stanley had proven a difficult client, and she felt our presence might help.

We first ensured that his home was in order before visiting him at the care home. He was pleased to see us, and we spent around an hour chatting before his social worker arrived. She was keen to understand his plans for the future, as Stanley needed to grasp the costs of his current care, and the council intended to reclaim the vacant house if he had no intention of returning.

Stanley paid little attention to his social worker, so I had to ask him the questions. It became clear he did not fully appreciate how vital the physiotherapy sessions were for his recovery and potential return home. Unfortunately, he had previously been discharged from physiotherapy for refusing to cooperate, and now he was not in a fit state to go back home. His social worker promised to explore the possibility of arranging further sessions, though I remained sceptical given his history of non-compliance.

After checking into a nearby hotel, we returned to see him in the evening. He was genuinely glad to see us, but became quite upset when we had to leave. The following morning, we made another brief visit, simply to say goodbye and to reinforce the importance of taking physiotherapy seriously should he be given another opportunity.

On the 12th, I had an NHS Health Check, and Charlotte and the boys returned home.

Two days later, we welcomed another lodger, Maddy, Jamie’s rabbit, who moved into my greenhouse while Jamie and Ashton went on holiday to Rhodes. The spring had been so cold that the growing season was at least two weeks behind schedule. Normally, the greenhouse would have been filled with thriving plants in grow bags, but this year it was empty, leaving Maddy free to roam while the few plants I had were still confined to the propagator.

We also looked after Mia for a day during the week. Maddy was less than pleased about this; every time Mia approached the greenhouse, she would dash around inside, squealing at the top of her lungs.

The 14th proved to be an intriguing day. Market Harborough RUFC holds an annual reunion lunch for past players and supporters, and Paul and I had reserved seats. A splendid meal was followed by a solid win for the club’s 1st team. Catching up on news of old friends inevitably revealed some interesting gossip.

Two years ago, I had met an old friend, Ian Donald, at the same luncheon. I hadn’t seen him in years, as he had spent six months in New Zealand playing polo and the remainder of the time in the UK. As always, he was bright and sparky, and I was shocked a few weeks later to receive a phone call from his wife, Tina, informing me that he had passed away. The funeral was being delayed due to an autopsy, but during that period, Tina kept in touch with me, as I was a link to his rugby days. However, the cause of his death remained a mystery at the time of the burial.

In conversation after the luncheon, I learned that Ian’s body had been exhumed and that Tina had been arrested. At the time of the funeral, I had wondered whether there had been any shenanigans, given rumours that Tina had been having an affair with a personal trainer. Only time will tell what comes of it.

The following day, we had a visit from John Lee. He was heading to a birthday party in Harborough with his wife, Catherine, who was involved in a golf tournament at the Harborough Club. John, a reluctant party guest, decided to call in on us to avoid spending too much time at the party.

Sue attended the first car boot sale of the year at Saddington on the 22nd. Fortunately, the forecast rain held off, though she reported that there seemed to be more buyers than sellers, which did not bode well for bargains.

After celebrating his birthday on the 19th in Rhodes, Jamie and Ashton returned to the UK on the 21st. That same day, I travelled to Braunstone to install an external power socket for Sarah and Lee’s spa pool. Sarah was working, but Lee had the day off to show a couple of estate agents around and value the house. I couldn’t help wondering whether they were planning to sell.

That Sunday, Sue attended another car boot, while I met Lee and Sarah at Rutland Water. We practised rigging the boat with sails and tidied up the interior after the winter months.

During the following week, I looked after Mia on three occasions. Despite the appalling weather, I took her out on two full-day walks with Peter, which included lunch. On the third occasion, Lee and Sarah travelled to Peterborough for a spot of greyhound racing.

Jamie and Ashton appear to be on the move, as they have started looking at houses for sale, and Jamie has had his apartment valued.

This winter, we have been feeding the birds from a feeder hung in the Scots pine in front of the lounge window. It is lovely to watch the wide variety of birds queuing for their turn to scoff the seed and hanging fat balls. For the past couple of months, I have been scattering grain beneath the tree for a visiting cock pheasant. At first, he came alone, then with a hen, and now Romeo has arrived with two hens in tow.

Charlotte continues to endure significant pain from her two slipped discs, and progress remains painfully slow. She is bravely trying to maintain as normal a life as possible, though most tasks are still beyond her at present. Despite everything, she remains remarkably positive.