Personal Blogs

Ok, Christmas is over, time to get back to studying. Mother-in-Law deposited back to her base in Brighton, number one son sent on his way leaving me £100 poorer, "just to tide me over" he says, "I'll pay you back", yeah right, I'll add it to the tab! Number two son still has another week of leave but spends most of the day in bed recuperating after nights out and, finally, husband has gone back to work. I now have time to myself. And yet, I find myself tidying up, hoovering, polishing, ironing and watching Netflix. Stop procrastinating Lisa, get you arse into gear!! Coffee first though with my new Nespresso coffee machine and milk frother, can't study without a coffee by my side. 

Does anyone study over Christmas? I had all good intentions of doing so but there was always an excuse, another mince pie to eat or a large glass of wine to drink. Visitors coming and going, phone ringing, grandchildren running through the house, how am I meant to study with all that going on. Order has now been restored and now I need to go through my study plan and put together a timetable for the next month. My 50th birthday is half way through January so I will need to factor in my celebrations too. That's one weekend written off, but you are only 50 once.  Best get a wriggle on. I'll let you know how the celebrations went. 

My husband and I bought a motorhome about 9 years ago. It was an impulse buy, we just happened to be passing a motorhome show and decided to have a look. We named her Polly as it seemed to suit her. It has been one of the best decisions we have made. We have had so much fun and seen so much of Great Britain over the years. At the moment we are in Bristol on a small site at the end of the Cumberland Basin. We come here at least twice a year as it is only  around a 2 1/2 hour drive from home. You can walk out the back gate and emerge out onto the floating harbour and walk into Bristol City Centre which takes about 1/2 hour stroll. 

Caravan sites are great for people watching and I like to sit at the table with a coffee and a packet of bourbon biscuits watching as other caravanners and motorhomers come and go. The mornings are especially busy. The morning starts about 6.30am when you here the first doors being opened and the first rush to the shower blocks to bag the best shower and sometimes the only shower! Some people walk around in their pyjamas and dressing gowns and others are fully dressed but they all carry their towel over their arm and wash bags of various sizes. At one site in Northumberland we watched an older gentleman who was wearing a striped dressing gown and leather slippers walk to the shower block with his toothbrush held out in front of him already primed with his toothpaste. He kept stopping every few feet to check that the toothpaste hadn't fallen of his brush. 

We stay mainly in club managed sites but on occasions we have 'gone off grid'. In Scotland we stayed overnight in pub car parks, they let you stay for free if you eat in their restaurant. My favourite was The Barn at Beal which overlooks The Holy Island. The first time we went it was a bit of a free for all but the site is now laid out with pitches so that everyone has a view. There is nothing worse than pitching up and sitting enjoying the view and then someone comes along and parks in front of you!! 

This year we were lucky enough to be at a site overlooking Skomer Island. We had perfect weather for the boat trip over to the island and spent the day watching the puffins. It was one of those days that cannot be recreated. It was just too perfect

This Sunday is Remembrance Sunday and the centenary of Armistice Day. I have always worn a red poppy as I believe it is our duty to remember the men and women from all countries who gave their lives for the sake of peace. 

I will wear it with extra pride this year as my youngest son, who is in the RAF, will be in a Remembrance service. He has been chosen to be part of the drumhead of the parade, standing guard by the Cenotaph near to where he is based.  He is very proud to have been chosen and takes his duty very seriously. He has been in the RAF for two years and is so proud to wear his uniform and be part of the armed services. Unfortunately I cannot be there to see him but hopefully it will be televised and I can get to see him. 

Last year as part of the Open University Access course we had to anaylse Wilfred Owen's poem Dulce et Decorum est . and remember vividly the horrific imagery he used to describe a gas attack. We should never forget. 

They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old: 

I attended my first face to face tutorial last night. I was so nervous beforehand but really needn't have been. Six of us attended and to be honest just as nervous as I was. It was interesting to hear what everyone wants to do with their degrees once we've graduated, it was a real mix. There were a few historians, one wanted to study religion and myself who wants to do creative writing. Our tutor put us at ease and we talked through one of the chapters and had a brief discussion on essay writing and how the OU would like us to set them out, we touched on referencing, which is my biggest worry but as our tutor said essay means "to try", which is exactly what I am going to do. I left feeling happier that I have not made a big mistake and that through 'trying' I will develop and become better and, most of all, enjoy what I am doing.  

Recently my mother-in-law asked me to take her to visit the burial place of her husband. He is buried in a natural burial ground nestled at the base of the South Downs. She is in her eighties and cannot get there easily on her own. It involves a bus journey and a hair-raising game of Frogger to get across the busy country road.

The day was perfect, a beautiful autumn day, bright blue cloudless sky. We sat on the bench by his tree enjoying the sun’s rays warming our faces and bodies. It was so peaceful sitting listening to the sounds of birds, the gentle breeze blowing through the trees and looking up to the windmills on top of the Downs. We sat in silence, each with our own thoughts.

I started thinking about how different it was to where my mum is buried. My mum was cremated and her remains interred in a church graveyard in an area reserved specifically for cremations. A simple plaque marks her resting place, she is in the corner of the graveyard at the bottom of a hill adjacent to where the bins are kept and the area is forgotten. Whenever I visit, I get despondent. Don’t get me wrong it is not an unpleasant place to be it just feels oppressive. She is hemmed into a corner, it’s dark, the tree branches hang down so low and brush against you as you walk over the uneven, cracked path that lead you down the hill past headstones marked with age. It feels gloomy and dark and my body reacts the same way. I hunch up my shoulders and draw my arms around myself as if to shield myself from death. The natural burial ground is more open and light, I can see the sky above, and I can breathe and relax.

Perhaps, I thought, my feelings are a reflection on how they died. Both died from cancer but their deaths could not have been more different. My mum’s, although expected, was full of fear, confusion and a certain degree of chaos. My father-in-law’s was peaceful, calm and dignified.  Maybe I am manifesting my experiences of their deaths onto the way I feel about their final resting places. The human mind works in mysterious ways.

So, I had planned on studying this weekend or at least looking through the books and devising a study planner. As with all good plans they never go the way you intended. Saturday my husband wanted to go out and looked upset when I told him I was going to study, he spent the best part of an hour moping around the house so, in the end, you guessed it, we went out.  I did enjoy myself, it was a beautiful late summer day and we strolled through the Laines in Brighton window shopping ending up on the beach watching the world go by. 

Sunday my youngest son flew home from America. He has been away for two months on a deployment with the RAF. We drove up to his base to take him for lunch, we had a lovely catch up and heard all about his time away. By the time I got home, having negotiated the M25 and the M23, I couldn't be bothered to do anything. So here I am, 7pm on a Sunday evening, glass of wine in one hand and surfing the internet looking at books and stationery. on Amazon. 

Tomorrow I plan on studying.... watch this space.