25th June 2019

After checking my calendar, I noticed that my last blog was posted on the 8th of June, which happened to be the Queen’s birthday. I was born in the year she became Queen (1953); however, that is the only thing we have in common. I’m not much of a royalist, though I do acknowledge the benefits of having a head of state who is widely respected around the world.

Today, we learned that the British taxpayer has funded the renovation of Prince Harry and Meghan’s home to the tune of £2.3 million. To my mind, that is simply wrong. The Queen has assets exceeding $500 million, Prince Charles $100 million, Prince Philip $30 million, and Meghan is reportedly worth $5 million. Surely, the citizens of the UK deserve an explanation as to why the royals are not dipping into their own deep pockets and lending Harry a coin or two if he is financially compromised? Sue and I, like many others, no doubt, dipped into our savings to help our three children with their first homes, so why can’t the Windsors do the same? It does their reputation no favours and only reinforces the perception that those with wealth and privilege prefer to drink deeply from the public trough rather than rely on their own resources. Sadly, given that the taxpayer already covered £30 million of the £32 million cost of their wedding, I have little confidence that our parliamentary representatives will address this injustice. They, too, seem to have their snouts in the trough. Such is the Honour System.

Another frustrating system the country seems locked into at present is our weather. The atmosphere appears determined to recycle the same cold, damp air ad infinitum, great for lawns, farmers, water companies, and my potato plants! I usually try to update the blog each month, preferably on a wet day indoors, but there have been so many of those lately. Today is no exception; it’s pouring with rain. Sue was due to go orienteering in East Carlton Park, but that was cancelled, while I had planned to take Harry (the dog) for a long walk and a pub lunch while Charlotte worked in a new client’s garden in Great Bowden. Despite the downpour, Charlotte braved the elements and the very real possibility of drowning. The pub, however, did not receive a visit from Harry and me; Harry doesn’t like getting wet and much preferred the comfort of the lounge sofa. To be honest, so did I.

Family Updates: Sarah returned from Cyprus looking refreshed, with a healthy tan. However, in the aftermath of the burglary, the villa’s locks had been changed, which led to them accidentally locking themselves out the following night after another party in town. They ended up having to break back into the property, using the same method as the professionals who had robbed them! More locks had to be replaced. Lee was relieved to have her back home and welcomed her with flowers and chocolates. Every time Sarah goes off on one of her jaunts, Lee and I can’t help but think of Taken, the Liam Neeson film.

On the 13th, I took on my annual waitering duties at a ladies’ charity lunch at Marston Trussell Hall. The weather was dreadful, so instead of the usual summer dresses, most of the women turned up in trouser suits and fleeces. We volunteer waiters, however, were still required to wear our dinner jackets to maintain the formal atmosphere. The tables had to be squeezed into the orangery and adjoining marquee, though some had to be strategically positioned to avoid the leaks. A jazz band played throughout the five-course meal, and an impressive amount of wine and champagne was consumed to counteract the miserable weather. Spirits were high, and the ladies were more than willing to part with a substantial sum for charity. It was lovely to catch up with a few familiar faces, including Branwen, the former secretary at Farndon Fields Primary School, and Helen Campbell, who used to teach there. On a sad note, I later discovered that Helen’s husband had passed away that very day in a hospice. He had suffered a heart attack two years ago and had been in a vegetative state ever since, so in many ways, it was a blessing for the family, though no less difficult.

Charlotte and her family attended the annual Rothwell Rowell Trinity Fair, which has been held in the town for over 800 years. Sue and I have never been, though the history behind it is fascinating. Ellis managed to convince Charlotte to go on some of the fairground rides, an experience I suspect she won’t be repeating any time soon. Sue and I learned the hard way that once you reach a certain age, being whizzed around in tight circles does unpleasant things to your insides. Charlotte, I suspect, had a similarly difficult night.

Tragically, last month, a fox got into Charlotte’s hen house and killed all but one of her hens. The lucky survivor had been in the brood box, laying an egg at the time. Later, Charlotte acquired some fertilised eggs and gave them to her lone hen to hatch. She has since proved to be a wonderful mother.

Sue continues to be very busy, alongside her weekly walks, cinema visits, history talks and excursions, and adventure activities, she has now added Pilates and, much to my dismay, Bridge! A game I associate with a cadre of prickly, grumpy old card players, short on patience and long on superiority. Or perhaps that only applies (in my limited experience) to those characters who play the game on cruise ships? Eeeeeeek!

On the 22nd, Susan, Charlotte, Sarah, and I travelled up to Caergwrle Castle to visit Nan. Sarah stayed with us the night before and then drove us all to North Wales when Charlotte arrived early the following morning. For once, the weather was kind; it was a lovely, warm day. We broke our journey with a visit to a garden centre, where Charlotte bought a pot plant to leave at the castle.

Before heading up to the ruins, we called in to see Aunty Doreen, who was on her own as her grandson Andrew, who lives with her, was away on holiday in Thailand. She seemed a little quiet but was looking forward to her upcoming trip to Croatia. She hasn’t spoken to her sister Josie since last Christmas, having fallen out while on a Mediterranean cruise (I bet they played Bridge!). Sad that they don’t talk, though I have to agree with Josie, Doreen isn’t the easiest person in the world to get along with. My mother had fallen out with her many years ago.

Charlotte borrowed a small spade from Doreen, intending to dig a hole somewhere in the castle to plant her gift for Nan. In the end, after enjoying our picnic on the ruined castle walls under a rare blue sky and warm sunshine (hard to remember what that yellow ball is!), she decided to plant it in a tub inside the War Memorial garden, just over the wall behind Nan’s bench. A lovely thought, one I’m sure Nan would appreciate.

After returning the spade, we drove up to Brymbo and spent a pleasant hour with Aunty Josie, David, and Lesley. Since I last saw her, she has had a pacemaker fitted and is struggling quite a bit with arthritis. Despite her difficulties, she always has a smile and is so easy to talk to. I like my Aunty Josie a lot.

Next, we travelled to Mold. We had intended to visit Noel and Gaye, who live just outside the town, but as is often the case when we go to Wales, they are away, this time babysitting in Burton-on-Trent for their daughter. Having booked a hotel for the night, we checked into the Beaufort Hotel in New Brighton. Charlotte was recovering from a bout of water infection; she’d been in Kettering Hospital the night before and had been given antibiotics, so she was feeling quite worn out. We left her resting in the room while we went into Mold to visit the street market and explore the town. It’s quite an attractive place, with plenty to see and do, and it seems well worth an extended visit sometime.

Later that evening, with a refreshed Charlotte, we had dinner at The Griffin. The three ladies in our party opted for a dish called Cambodian Street Food, while I played it safe with a traditional pie, on the assumption that you can never be too sure with foreign food. I’ve been to Cambodia, and I wouldn’t describe the streets as particularly clean!

After breakfast, we drove to Upton, near Chester, to visit Jan and Ray Bengree, Sue’s cousins. We only stayed for an hour or so, as they are both very theatrical and had a play rehearsal that afternoon. They live just a few hundred metres from Chester Zoo, and every time we visit, we say we really must go. We didn’t do it this time either, perhaps one day.

The drive back to Harborough was uneventful, and upon arrival, Charlotte and Sarah went their separate ways, keen, no doubt, to see how the menfolk had fared without them for a day!