My Mum is Super-Mum!

Time and Place: Afternoon at Mum's in the front room watching Emmerdale on catch-up

Just a quick post as:

One - I have a headache
Two - It's nearly Christmas so you are all very busy.
Three – I have a headache.

I'm still here, but at least the 'orrible flu-like symptoms are gradually subsiding, apart from a residual headache and being completely knackered! It's still a mystery. So if all's well I shall be heading back to Hastings for Christmas where hopefully I shall be looked after by hubby..... and now that those of you who know him have picked yourself up off the floor from rolling about laughing, I shall continue. It will just be the three of us at Christmas - me, hubby and Alf. Oh yes!

I have already had a couple of Alf-fixes since I have been here. He was here at the weekend and I just managed to walk (with reluctant use of a walking stick) down the bottom of the garden and a little way along the brook. A frosty winter wonderland, it was. Alf decided it would be fun to nick my glove, unfortunately as my weakened body thwarts me, energetic Alf games are precluded for the time being. I pretended I was chasing him and he ran around like a loon. He spotted the swans gliding down the water and predictably barked, unsure whether to give chase after they hissed their disapproval. Notwithstanding the soggy gloves he kindly left me, I miss my Alf. But, of course I know it's best he is in his own place, our trusty static caravan in the woods (until we sell the house in sunny Spain). He needs his daily foray into the woods and the peace and quiet of his bedroom. Yep he has his own bedroom. Well, when he's not on or in our bed or for that matter lounging anywhere in 'his' caravan or chasing bunny rabbits in 'his' woods. Because they are his aren't they?

Swans on Cove brook

Alfie with glove!

Alfie trying to hide behind the bushes, with glove

My Mum is actually Super-Mum.

Although I think the description 'Super-Mum' was first coined in the 1990's, she was and is the original. When my Dad had a major breakdown in 1961, Mum was pregnant with me and already had my brother and sister. She was twenty-five and we all lived in a small caravan in Chertsey, with only room to just about swing a cat and no bathroom (had to use toilet block). Mum carried on and has carried on ever since, whatever life throws at her. She went back to work full-time when I was two years old, not because she wanted to 'have it all' - she just didn't want us all to have nothing. Living in poverty did not figure in Mum's idea of the future. Dad still worked, but over the years there were often periods of illness that meant he may never work again. Eventually her decision meant they could buy the house in 1965. The house, in which I sit now, in the front room watching Emmerdale, where all sorts has happened over the last few decades - the house that is, not Emmerdale. The house is now my Mum's, where we all come to stay when in need of refuge for various reasons.

While I have been unwell, Mum continues her very important role of Super-Mum, which now also extends to Super-Nan. As I have recuperated over the last few weeks she has been somewhat busy as Christmas approaches, you know, lots of 'do's' church, WI, walking group, women's fellowship, civil service and so on. In between functions she has made sure I am fed, taken to appointments and put up with my hubby and Alf on their short visits. She has hoovered up post-Alf on top of her usual household chores, including keeping the garden maintained, even though she put it to bed for the winter, as there are always jobs to be done – 'constant gardening' and all that. On the other hand, over the last three weeks, I have done, pretty much - sweet nothing. 

As I write, she is now putting up the Christmas tree and decs (following a brisk walk in the rain and a Christmas 'do' with the walking group!) - Okay okay- I'll help. 'Do you want a cup of tea, Mum?'

Thanks Mum, for being Super-Mum and Super-Nan! We won't forget.....

That's it then till the New Year, when hopefully I will be back to some sort of reasonable health and will have resumed writing and can give you some updates on the progress of my book.

Thank you for dropping into my blog.

Merry Christmas 

and a Happy New Year!

My blog is not my book, it is a journal of writing my book. When my book is finished I hope you will read it.

I am writing a book and thought I'd start a blog about writing my book. Once my book is written printed and hopefully read I will never write the words again in that same sequence that will bring my story to the reader. Now, I am not suggesting that my storytelling is in anyway magnificent or that my craft is infinitely skilful. I am a novice, maybe deluded. But the story I have to tell is powerful, intense and true and I think, a story worth telling.