The Blonde

Canada

2010-09-07T21:12:00.022+01:00

6 weeks in Canada, both on and off Vancouver Island has flown by and now we're back to the next stage of our immigration plans. Gadgetman's TB testing has resulted in a negative result as we thought it would and he has been back to have a further x-ray taken. This has been sent back to the Canadian High Commission and hopefully the next contact will be a request from them to send our passports in for shiny visas to be inserted.

Our summer on Vancouver Island was spent mainly out amongst the islands sailing something.........

My happy brother Graham.....
with a flotilla of boats moored together at some stages. We even saw a grey whale......

....this time which caused much early morning excitement all round. It only surfaced about three times so it was difficult to tell where to aim the camera to get a good shot. This was about the best of the lot, showing the last of the tail as it dove. Then it was gone, and although we turned around to follow it's path, it didn't surface for about 2.5 minutes and was just too far away to get a good shot.
Raccoons...... pitter-pattered along the decks at night whilst moored at the dock at Newcastle Island, bald eagles soared overheard at many anchorages, seals poked their heads up inquisitively as we sailed or motored along, and we saw lots of loons, pilliated woodpeckers, cormorants and herons amongst other birds. The kids caught us crabs for dinner...... Graham, my brother, set prawn traps as well, and also went off to remote rocks in the dinghy to collect oysters, which he prepared and cooked in garlic and butter. Absolutely scrummy. This was dinner one evening....

....and Graham's feet for perspective!

We experienced some aaaaaah-type sunsets......

We met quite a few 'live-aboards' and friends of my brother and his wife who also cruise amongst the islands during the summer and had many an evening in the cockpit involving alcohol and singing.

The kids and I stayed up late on the 12th August for the Perseid meteor showers, allegedly 200 could be seen in 4 hours but 20 in an hr was enough for me and thrilling for us all. There was no moon and we were anchored off Herriot Bay on Quadra Island, (near the green bit in this photo), so light density was very low. What a great experience that was.

The day before we set off sailing we spent the day at The Filberg Festival in Comox, an annual arts and crafts show/festival. I had a moving and serendipitous meeting there with an artist called Monk. She paints and teaches for a living and lives on Vancouver Island at Rathtrevor beach. She was an amazing presence and we spent about an hour there with her talking and watching her paint. Before leaving I decided that I was going to buy one of paintings that had been printed. I profered the $50 for payment but she refused payment, saying that she felt so fortunate to have met us that she wanted me to have the painting with her love. I was moved to tears and we hugged. What a powerful and emotional encounter we had though difficult to describe here.

We had THE most fun water balloon fight of all times between 3 boats whilst enroute from one anchorage to another. Hundreds of water balloons were prepared in advance.....then it was game ON....
as attack after attack took place......

Gman & Gadgeteen left us soon after and headed back up island for a few days 'on dry land' and Gadgetgirlie and I sailed on back up north home with the others. GG usually stayed on the larger boat and I had whoever would crew with me for the day. Our last stop was at a beautiful anchorage called Codfish bay on Jedediah Island and this is our flotilla..... On the left is the hobiecat with the rubber dinghy on top and Berceau's dinghy tied by the stern, then Berceau, (I'm getting the charts out for the days sail), then Moku Lana, then my other brother, Pete's best friend's boat. On deck Moku Lana has another sailing dinghy...... ......3 kayaks, and a surfboard.

Here's the family photo taken that day, minus Gman & Gteen of course.....

I know......I know....this has turned out to be quite a lengthy post and I have stayed up far too late but I really wanted to post something and am also having trouble uploading photos onto Facebook.

Ride to Littlehampton

2010-07-11T23:23:00.003+01:00

It's too hot at home, and too hot to spend the day on my bike behind the trike so we're out on the Trike for the day and decide to ride down to pick up Annette.

A bit of Arundel castle

Sea view

Schooner with a mizzen staysail up

Dodgy maniac on the dodgems

Cafe at West beach

The trike

Another boat coming in

Arundel church

Green ride

Mainly Cornwall

2010-06-23T06:49:00.004+01:00

Oh dear, I'm struggling to find the motivation to write at the moment.

Andy has done his sputum samples and delivered them for incubation. I received a nice email from CHC saying that because of this further medical request we wouldn't be able to land in the summer as hoped for. How surprising to receive an email from a real person in CHC! I now know that I have contact with our case officer if I have any queries, which is useful.

I spent a lovely half-term week with Gadgetgirlie in Cornwall. We stayed with Ian and Clare, in Snozzle, (St. Austel), and then spent a few days in a B & B in Falmouth.

GG & I visited the old harbour of Charlestown and went aboard a brigantine....

and another day we had a walk through a different seaside town called Polperro....

Ian took us for a fab walk up on Bodmin Moor where there were these weird giant skimming-type stones on top of each other on top of a tor.

Then we met a lovely couple at a market one day, a wood turner and his wife and we spent ages at their stall. She saw that GG was fascinated with the different items on the stall that her husband Pete had made, and invited her to have a go at making something at their place near Truro, so on our way to Falmouth we spent lunch and a sunny afternoon at their remote home. GG made a hawthorn bowl.

Falmouth was a great town for us to base in. We spent most of one day at the National Maritime Museum and as we wandered outside I spotted a familiar boat there called ‘Curlew’. She belonged to a couple called Tim & Pauline Carr, who Mum & Dad were friends with in Malta back in 1969. They went on to travel all over the world, ending up in South Georgia where they wrote a book called ‘Antarctic Oasis’. I believe that they donated their boat to the museum and now live somewhere in Devon.

We rented a 14’ dinghy called a ‘Bosun’ one evening. GG hadn’t been in a boat of such a small size before and I put her in charge of the jib and the camera. We had fun sailing around the huge harbour and fortunately for GG there wasn’t much wind. I would have liked a bit more wind.

Another day we drove over to Perrenporth on the north coast of Cornwall, picturesque drive and view but the beach was just too crowded and windy for our liking. We went shopping in the town instead…

Neither of us wanted the week to end because we had settled into enjoying each other’s company and found our time so easy and fun together. I don’t think I’d ever spent a week with just GG before and I will always treasure the closeness that we found, laughing at the same things till we cried…

Gadgeteen is struggling through the final weeks of assignments at college and I hope he has done enough to return for the 2nd year. We have all been quite stressed about his work load because he’s left so much to the last knockings. Still, I think he’s done them all now. He breaks up next week so I hope so.

Since I last wrote he has passed his ‘Passplus’ course, which should make car insurance cheaper, though we were quoted £3,400 for him to be insured on a Fiat Cinquento before the course and still wouldn’t be able to afford to insure him. We’ll have to look again when he is 18 in November.

TB?

2010-05-28T18:39:00.003+01:00

Gadgetman received a letter from the CHC yesterday saying that he has to provide sputum smears and cultures for mycobacterium tuberculosis, taken on 3 consecutive days and incubated for 6-8 weeks. Then he has to have another chest x-ray on or after 24/7/10.

The consequence of this is that we will not be able to 'Land' in Canada when we go out for a Holiday on 22/7.

What this all means in layman's language, is that there is some kind of shadow on his x-ray and CHC want to cover themselves and make sure that he doesn't have anything serious that has caused this. They certainly don't want anyone in Canada that has TB.

G'man has never had TB, nor is he aware of anything else, but this causes us more expense of £150 for the cultures, £50 for the repeat x-ray and the added expense of having to fly out to land before 24/4/11 if we get visas at the the end of this further testing.

OH GUMBOOTS AND POOH!

.......And before you think that we should be worrying.....lots of people recently have had this happen to them and have written about it on Britishexpats.com, and not one of them have come back saying that they have done the cultures and had a further x-ray only to find that they have something serious wrong with them, not one! so I am not immediately worrying....just frustrated by yet a further delay and great expense

The waiting game

2010-05-24T08:20:00.004+01:00

A month ago today we went to have our medicals in Thornton Heath armed with £730 in cash and various bits of paper and umpteen copies of our photographs.

The first part was to have the chest x-rays taken, (to check for TB or other shadows that may require further investigation), which were done in a side building of Mayday hospital. Ordinary members of the public were there too but after booking us in we were whisked through as if of high importance. Our x-rays were £50 each.

4 in-and-outs later and we drove a few blocks away to the medical practice (known as a designated medical practice). Practices such as these charge huge amounts to do the required testing for immigration purposes for other countries. Ours were £150 each and £80 for Gadgetgirlie due to her age.

We were assigned 20 minutes each and had blood and urine taken to test for aids and syphyllis, then we were asked a zillion and one questions about our health and medical history.

I had to answer a few extra questions about Gadgeteen and hand some reports in then that was it.

Now we wait again for the next brown envelope to fall on the door mat. Either it will demand more reports on something to do with our medicals.......or it will be a request for our passports to be sent in so that shiny visas can be put in them......this is of course what we hope for more than anything else right now....

Over the Edge Rally

2010-05-08T21:57:00.002+01:00

Highlights for me this year

Our friend coming too, she'd been to the 3B's rally before but NOTHING like this rally with big exposure to bikers in fancy dress with a difference.

The moment that GadgetGirlie realised that she had left her bag of clothes in her bedroom at home!

Lots of dressed up or down bikers.

Seeing the dutch/belgian or german guy who was over 7' tall, struggling to walk around in 6" high stiletto boots.

Stan and Jane in a different outfit every half an hour or so.

Stan getting a bucket of water chucked over him whilst in the stocks by Gadgetman.

Watching PDQ...a local band with a VERY nice looking lead singer, who could sing fabulously and was very sexy.

Seeing The Alma Boobies play again this year, a very tight all girl/3 sisters band, who were all gorgeous too.

Dancing with the Very nice looking leading singer of PDQ whilst the Alma Boobies were playing.

Licking cream off a young mans nearly-naked body in the silly games.

Seeing Annette come back after winning a raffle prize.......a purple vibrator! Well, okay, I'll look after it!

Seeing Gadgetgirlie on the stage being sung 'Happy Birthday' to by 1200 bikers, as happens every year.

Seeing Gadgetgirlie blow the candles out on her birthday cake made by Gadgeteen and his girlfriend.....

I ain't coming

2010-04-29T22:39:00.004+01:00

What a shame.

We were all off to the 'Over The Edge Rally' tomorrow with a friend and Gadgeteen's girlfriend, but she isn't allowed to come so Gadgeteen doesn't want to come. I don't blame him for not wanting to leave her here to come his own though, and he says he wouldn't enjoy it without her so would probably be miserable most of the time.

I always knew and accepted that one day he wouldn't want to come away with us anymore, and that one day we would be able to trust him staying at home alone. He is 17 now so quite capable of looking after himself and probably he and his girlfriend will chill out at home quietly most of the weekend.

It happens so suddenly though and without any warning. All was fine and he was coming and looking forward to it, then he met his girlfriend and life has narrowed down to when he is going to see her next.

Gadgetman isn't happy about it really but can understand Max's predicament and choice.

I will miss having him there.

Old engines

2010-04-28T22:44:00.013+01:00

Last night a friend sent me this link to the sound of an engine that was incredibly evocative and reminded us of a baltic trader called 'Dana' back in Grenada in the 70's.

This got me to thinking of other engines closer to home.

These Burrell engines for example.

My forefather was Mr.Charles Burrell and he and his descendants designed and built steam and traction engines for over 100 years until 1928.

In my twenties in the eighties I went to Rushmoor steam and traction engine rally every year for a few years, exhibiting an old running stationary engine ourselves to qualify us for camping in the grounds for the weekend with friends, who had old motor bikes to show and ride.

There were other exhibitors too such as the old army vehicles, old vehicles in general, oldy-worldy fairground attractions and a craft fair.

For me though, it was the steam and traction engines that attracted me. I was even able to ride on one similar to this one after talking to an owner about my heritage which was such a thrill for me.

What a fantastic weekend that was, steam and traction engines of all shapes and sizes everywhere......you could feel a constant rumble through the ground beneath your feet from these powerful machines.

In the evenings as we sat around our fire surrounded by these amazing sights and sounds, at some point a bored engineer on his engine would blow his steam whistle and start all the others off, then there would be 5-10 minutes of all types of steam whistles being blown into the night air and everyone felt the excitement that this would create.

What an atmosphere. When all the whistling stopped, the sound of clapping could be heard from around the arena as campers showed their appreciation.

Engines would be run throughout the weekend from early morn til dusk, as the enthusiasts played with their machines around the grounds, and on both days there was a procession in the arena with a commentator describing each engine as it steamed by.

I loved the early mornings as the guys powered up their engines and they hissed as steam wafted up through the trees.

Gadgeteen

2010-04-26T08:13:00.002+01:00

The whole process of understanding Gadgeteen has altered my understanding of ‘normal’.

During my earlier blogging days I wrote of a slippery slope that I could see him on and how inadequate I felt to see him on this slope and not to be able to find a way to help him.

He was subsequently expelled from three schools, bad behaviour was blamed, and according to the Exclusion officer for the borough, no other child had ever been excluded from three schools before.

You see, Gadgeteen comes across as any other teen does; in fact he is more articulate and engages better than the average teen. He is intelligent and charming so can impress where needed and it is because he appeared 'normal' that his behaviour in school was apparently deemed the unacceptable behaviour of a 'normal' teen.

After the third school I was desperate to find a way to help Gadgeteen to get through his final year with some GCSE’s and finally decided that a label would help us and those that work with him, to better understand his needs, needs that he didn’t even understand himself.

We are often afraid of labelling people, because of then justifying unacceptable behaviour by using the label, and expecting no more from the labelled person than the label described, but in my son’s case, he was failing without a label so we would be no worse off if he had one.

My Internet research quite quickly and very surprisingly led me to ADHD. My only experience of ADHD was of reading in the media that ADHD was an excuse for poor parenting and didn’t really exist. I was beyond believing that I was responsible for Gadgeteens behaviour or that I could influence it anymore than I already did. I took the findings of Internet tests that we had completed in the family from different perspectives, to my doctor, who agreed to refer us on to a specialist, which would take a couple of months.

In the meantime we had a private assessment which confirmed the ADHD and recommended medication as a means to help calm him down sufficiently to be able to focus in class. He was then assessed by the NHS psychiatrist who confirmed the private assessment and he continued to prescribe Concerta.

Gadgeteen then attended a pupil referral unit and passed five GCSE’s before the summer of 2009. The diagnosis had achieved it’s purpose.

He is now at college studying motorsport engineering on a two-year course and although he still struggles with the course load and his idiosyncrasies, he is still there.

Since his diagnosis at 16, we have continued to learn how to manage his behaviour and needs. He has also been diagnosed with Childhood Autism and has Asberger traits too.

He struggles with changes to routine, for example, getting him back into college after a half term break is a struggle. He talks about quitting because he isn’t learning anything and he talks about refusing to go. We know that we have to just listen actively without getting drawn into any kind of argument about whether or not he is going, because on the day…he will go.

He struggles with remembering what he needs to take and in fact I am going to write a list of everything that he needs to remember to take with him each day before he leaves the house because he often forgets something.

He struggles with appointments, whether it be for the doctor, dentist or other. He gets anxious and agitated about any kind of appointment, even his driving lessons. I give him a countdown over a period of a few weeks so that he has time to mentally prepare.

He struggles with going away for the weekend because it’s yet another change to his daily life that requires additional mental thought. During any journey he becomes agitated about how long the journey will take and why we aren’t arriving at the estimated time. Again…time to prepare helps minimise the anxiety.

He struggles with getting to places on time…..often he will delay departure unnecessarily even though we give a countdown.

He can become fixated on things, for example, needing a new pair of shoes. He will go on and on about needing a new pair of shoes even though his comments might be inappropriate at the time, such as in the middle of a doctor’s appointment.

He’s very volatile and when aggressive, punches walls and doors before thinking about the consequences. He then believes that he has broken a bone in his hand and becomes obsessed with his knuckles, feeling and poking and prodding them to emphasise an injury. If he does fall over or hurt himself elsewhere he becomes adamant that he needs to go to hospital and when we have decided that a trip to the hospital is not necessary or warranted, sometimes he has taken himself.

He still lies in the face of irrefutable evidence to the contrary and still steals from us if he is given an opportunity that he can’t resist.

Many traits are subtle and handled badly can result in huge outbursts of aggression and a lack of cooperation but many can be pre-empted by careful anticipation and preparation.

People will say that all of these traits of those of a ‘normal’ teenager, but we know that throughout all of our years with Gadgeteen, his ‘normal’ is different to ours and we are doing our best to guide him through his life with us, so that he is better able to cope as an adult without us.

I love my son.

More on Point Salines and a friend reunited

2010-04-24T13:41:00.008+01:00

Really I should have written this post before the Point Salines one because I wouldn't have written about it at all without a certain person's influence.

My brother reunited me with an old friend from Grenada a likkle while ago and recently we have been chatting late into the early mornings on Skype. He's a bad influence because he can talk for...well....Canada and Grenada put together and keeps me up late.

He tells a good story though, and can always find a way to 'mek a long story short' and by this he doesn't really mean making it shorter, what he really means is....be prepared cos this is going to tek a while......

The photo I used of Point Salines is one that a friend of his had put on facebook, so credit for the photo goes elsewhere. This is another view, and the height above sea level is easier to understand from this one.

I have done a likkle research of my own and found these pictures on the web too. This is an old postcard so I haven't got a clue who this person is!When I told my friend that I had written about the lighthouse he had his own memories of visits there.

He can remember such detail too. Back in the days of the Trinidad to Grenada race over 40++ years ago his father, who worked for the radio broadcasting corporation, used to take him and his brother down to the point in the early morning to report live, on the radio, of the yachts crossing the line.

He and his brother were left to their own devices and used to climb the rickety old winding wooden staircase up to the top of the lighthouse tower and watch the approaching yachts from the railings on the gallery outside, whilst his father broadcasted details on the radio.

He remembers that there was an old tea kettle filled with paraffin or what ever the lamp used to be lit with, with the wick hanging out of the spout. He remembers the smell of the lantern room and the hissing of the lens as it rounded the lamp again and again.

He remembers being so young that he and his brother would push down past tourists and other visitors trying to climb to the top up that old staircase.

This photo below is of the airport and of what is left of the point now. the lighthouse stood on a much larger cliff than the small outcrop on the right side of this photo.

This is all that's left.....just an almost unrecognisable bit of the lantern on some concrete pillar that doesn't do the old piece of history any justice at all. What a shame......

Point Salines

2010-04-22T20:48:00.003+01:00

Only those of us over 40 will remember this, a lonely lighthouse on an imposing cliff edge facing out to sea.

It always seemed at least a mile high when I was a kid on ‘Kim’ sailing past but in fact was only at most 150' high. We'd wave up at all the visitors both locals and tourists, who came to see the view from Grenada's southernmost point.

Amazing green flashes and awesome sunsets, passing yachts, approaching weather fronts and a good vantage point for the annual round-the-island race.

Down to the sea, the cliff face appeared to sink straight below the surface, deeper and deeper into the darkest dark blue, so that when we sailed past we could be so close that we could almost touch the cliff. We’d always ask dad to go yet closer.

There was a lurking danger though.......about 100' off the cliff, a rock lay in wait below the surface at just the right depth. Fine most of the time....but in the trough of the swell and in the wrong spot.....and OUCH!

Many a fine sailor and yacht has located this uncharted delight and several lead keels will have the tell-tale scrapes along their bottoms to prove it.

We were loaded with medical students and their families as charter guests one day. A decent wind blew from behind us and we were flying along on a broad reach doing about 8-9 knots.

Suddenly we stopped flying along and heeled over alarmingly. Time stood still and we wondered fleetingly if we needed to switch on the bilge pumps......Then we gacefully grated over the top and 'Kim' carried on as if nothing had happened.

The lighthouse no longer lives on the cliff edge, and in fact, the cliff no longer exists as it once did, standing tall and proud to be Grenadian.

The lighthouse was moved to the grounds of the airport somewhere, and the point was blasted down to insignificance so as not to cause a hazard to aircraft landing at the airport built out to the point.

Only those of us over 40 would wish that some things like this didn’t have to change.

Oh Canada

2010-04-21T17:22:00.004+01:00

Our Canadian plans are a step or two closer than when I last wrote. We have passed the eligibility stage after submitting 280 pages of documents, and are at the medical examination stage at last.

On Saturday we will submit ourselves for chest x-rays, blood & urine tests and all sorts of detailed questions on our physical and mental health, enough to satisfy the Canadian High Commission that we are not going to be a burden on the social and medical health system once in Canada.

What a hassle it is, gathering all the requested documents together but at least a worthwhile one.

Tonight we are off to find a passport photo booth that works.......

I'm back

2010-04-20T18:28:00.002+01:00

I'm gonna try this writing lark again. I miss the blogging world and pop around from time to time to see what blogging favourites have been up to but have only got as far as posting updates on facebook.

Time to change that.

There are things that I'd like to write about.

Right now though......my sausages are burning!

Belated and short October update

2007-11-12T17:19:00.000Z

Went to france for half term week to stay with french friends, then it was halloween and gadgeteen's 15th birthday. We have also have been decorating the hall, stairs and landing, a little each day during the evening and each weekend, for the last at least 5 weeks......seems like ages anyway. Just waiting for the carpet now.

Eid ul-fitr

2007-10-13T16:30:00.000+01:00

Gadgetgirlie went off to Tooting with a young Asian friend of mine to have her hand decorated in celebration of Eid ul-fitr today. As they walked around Tooting apparently Ggirlie asked why there were only 'coloured' people there and declared that she didn't like the smell of curries.

On the way to her cub swimming gala this evening we talked about why the word 'coloured' is offensive, and that 'Asian' would be a more appropriate word to use in the above situation. We talked about 'Hushna' in her class being Asian, even though she speaks German, and 'Niesha' being African, but the problem came, as far as she was concerned, with how she should describe 'Dayle', because he is 'very light brown'. 'He's mixed race,' I replied. Then there was the....'But mummy, Nailah is from Pakistan, why would we say Asian when she is from Pakistan? ...and before I could reply....'Look mummy, there's a scouts sign over there. Is that where we are going?' I realised that we would need to work on her politically and racially correct use of language a little bit more....another time.

Games we play

2007-09-27T20:54:00.000+01:00

Gman and I have finally found a game that has hooked us and we play a couple of games a few times a week now. The Dutch guys in France this summer bought it for us as a gift because they spent so many evenings with us drinking Gmans beer.
We seem to be quite evenly matched so Gman has a good chance of winning. We wait until the kids are bedded down for the night and peace reigns......then we peel back the table cloth and away we go.......

There are other games we play that he has absolutely no chance of winning such as Canasta or Scrabble, and we do play these on holiday too, but more often we play something that everyone has an even chance of winning such as this version of dominoes. My brother introduced us to this when we were over in Canada. Gadgetgirlie prefers this card game and Gteen just prefers gambling since he was bought this game last Christmas.

Monday Rendezvous

2007-09-25T17:32:00.000+01:00

Having written this last week I am delighted to report that my Monday evenings will be spent studying French.

Phone calls to last years students attracted one, and another came in to class last night.

Fantastic....It does mean though that because we are only 9, we lose half an hour a week of class time. No doubt Catherine, our teacher, will make it up in homework for us.

That reminds me, best I go off and get on with what she set us last night!

Weekend by the river

2007-09-24T07:54:00.000+01:00

We were so lucky with the weather this weekend so had a fab time camping at Hurley Riverside Park.

with friends from the British expats forum who are also in the process of emigrating to Canada.

The Thames

Gadgetgirlie looking her best

My son and I

.......And Gadgeteen having a go on the Trike.

All loved up!

2007-09-20T17:49:00.001+01:00

Gadgeteen's girlie is here today and Gadgeteen has an ear to ear grin. I think he is besotted. I must say that he's been much nicer to be around since he's met her, more co-operative and helpful even, and is even doing his homework too.

She lives a couple of miles away so Gteen can cycle over as well as catch the bus and they seem to find the time to spend an hour or so together most days. How sweet they are together......

Plastered

2007-09-19T17:44:00.000+01:00

Today is the day that we finally get plastered. Our mate Bob has kindly come round after work to put a couple of layers on the landing ceiling. This is a job that has been outstanding for the last 3+ years and means that we can then get on and decorate the hall, stairs and landing. One step closer to finishing the house. No doubt we will have to paint again before we sell when we get our Canadian visas, (when as opposed to if, I say), especially as the kitchen and dining area are lime green and yellow.

Incidentally, I don't think that I mentioned that before we went away for our French holiday, we received our AOR, (which is acknowledgement of receipt), on 1st August and that indicated a 42-48 month wait before our application will start to be processed/looked at. An incredibly long wait isn't it? Just goes to show how many applications are made each year, but as I mentioned before, the CHC in London only issue 16,000 visas each year and between 32-48,000 apply!

Since our return I have received my pension forecast and discovered that I have to work until 25th August 2011, so another nearly 4 years. Hopefully this should all fall together nicely, but an increase in the points requirement would put a spanner in the works wouldn't it! We can but carry on with living our lives and see what happens.....

What! No French?

2007-09-18T08:12:00.000+01:00

I am on tenderhooks now for the rest of the week. Last night I went to my first French class of the year, a GCSE course this year. I wondered as I sat down and looked around, I wondered whether there would be sufficient numbers for the course to run. Only 5 of us were there, then another, and after we had started another came in so we were 7 and the course needs 10.

A woman came in and told us that the first class would run, but that we would be contacted by the end of the week about whether the course would continue.

I really want this class to continue because I want to get to the stage where I can help us get some more points on our Canadian application and I need at least an 'A' level for that.

By the end of the evening we had decided to contact last years students to see if any more of them wanted to continue, and if not then we can work privately with our teacher in a group that visits a different one of our homes each week so that we can sill do the year.

So I wait anxiously and hope for the easy option, Anyone want to join us? We only need 3 more!

The Soggy Moggy Rally

2007-09-11T17:45:00.000+01:00

Early on last week a friend rang, saying, ' I've got those tickets you wanted.' 'Tickets? What tickets,' said Gman. ' The ones for the Soggy Moggy Rally that we discussed months ago, and it's this weekend,' came the reply.

Gman managed to get home extra early and had packed the trailer for the weekend away so straight after work and school on Friday, off we rode up to the Wood Green Animal Sanctuary near Huntington in Cambridgeshire. Took 3 hours and it was dark o'clock by the time we arrived. The field was packed with bikes, trikes, and tents of all shapes and sizes and live music filtered across the field from the beer marquee.

We managed to find ourselves a space and it was a case of all hands to the tent to get everything sorted so that we could go off to the beer marquee and find some friends. The band playing was 'Camouflage' with an extremely entertaining lead singer by the name of 'Big Al'. He really understands a biker crowd and knows how to play his audience well. What a laugh he is. It's funny to me that off stage he is actually quite a shy and unassuming bloke in his forties. He often sings one night and then the band stay on for the second night to party with the biker crowd. He even joined in the 'silly games' on Saturday. We last saw him at 'The Over the Edge Rally' on The Isle of Wight in May.

Gadgetgirlie and I retired early, well at just before midnight actually and left the boys to it. What a cold night though, and I didn't dare move cos I would find the cold bits. Oh and it was awful to need a wee in the middle of the night too!

Saturday morning was beautiful, just how we would have liked every morning to be during our summer holiday. This was our set up, we decided to use our old tent because it's so much easier to put up, just has a much smaller inside sitting area. Gman cooked us all a fab breakfast of sausages, eggs and bacon, with bread and butter on the side. No good for the waist-line but perfect for a bike rally.

Later on we visited the animal sanctuary, It was so sad to see all those dogs without homes. Seeing the cats was fine cos they are far more self-sufficient but the dogs looked out at us so hopefully, with big pleading eyes that seemed to say 'I'm the one you've been looking for, pick me, you know you want to'. It was sad to read of how some of them came to be there too, you know, older dogs out-living their owners and no longer having a home, marital splits, abuse and neglect, dogs not getting on with other pets in the family, or not fitting in with children. We had a look around the small animals section too and Gteen tried to persuade us that we needed an intelligent rodent in the house. We left empty handed.

We strolled back down the path through the woods to the rally site just in time for the silly games, the best we've seen.

First there was 'Moped Mayhem', basically moped racing around a figure of eight course with occasional crashes in the middle.

Then there were the 'sack races', with a difference though because as you can see 4 fitted in each builders 'yard' sack. Co-ordination was essential but usually lacking with hilarious results of all 4 toppling over and struggling to take one single jump forward in some cases.

Gman then took part in the 'Sledging races'. Once again they are slightly not what you would imagine. In this case both bikes or trikes would start on opposite sides of a round course and when the whistle goes the winner is the first one to catch up with the sledge rider being towed in front. Such a laugh to watch because often the rider would fall out of the sledge and the bike/trike rider would be totally unaware and carry on. We would all shout at him and the sledge rider would have to try and chase the bike, get back in and move off before the other bike drew level.

Then there was the punting, much more serious to watch as each team struggled to load each roller from the aft end of the punt to the front to keep the punt rolling forward.

Next was the 'beer bundle'. I heard this being called out on the speakers as we talked and walked around the stalls selling biker related clothing and bits & pieces. -'Only the first 10 bikes into the arena will be entered for the beer bundle,' I heard. I pushed Gman in the direction of his trike and told him to get on out there. He got into the arena as one of the 10 and his mate Phil then joined him as his runner. The idea of this game was that hidden amongst a pile of hay in the middle were 9 cans of beer, The bikes and trikes rode around in a big circle and when a whistle was blown each runner threw him/herself into the hay to find the beer. so a bit like musical chairs except that in each round someone was not going to find a can of beer and was 'out'.

Last of all was 'The Noisy gits' - a decibel test of the noisiest bike when the engine was revved. Again it was a race for the first 15 into the arena, but only those who thought they had a loud machine would bother. the loudest at full revs was 121. Didn't seem that loud really. Oh and in 1997 the legal limit was set at 80 decibels! Not sure if there has been a change since then though.

Then it was time to deal with all the Rally virgins...I have never before seen so many willing volunteers, usually 4-5 are coerced into taking part...but look at this lot....

Most discarded their shoes and accessories like watches and leather waistcoats, and one woman even donned a bath cap!

This years theme was 'Breakfast' apparently, which means that in all those buckets and bottles are all the edibles found at a breakfast table somewhere. There was a bucket of 'chocolate and croissants', another of 'fish savoury rice', (though I'm not sure who has that for breakfast), raw eggs, flour, tinned tomatoes, baked beans, cold tea and coffee and some other stuff that I can't recall now but equally yukky.

......And this is what they looked like at the end.....and there was only one shower in the mens toilets and one in the ladies. What a mad race there was at the end, some were chasing the club members who doused them, trying to give out free grubby and wet hugs, and others were chasing after friends who 'volunteered' them and the rest were racing for the showers!

Gteen is now allowed to have a go on the trike whilst on site. He is so pleased as punch and proud that he is old enough to be trusted, and is getting the hang of it really well, mind you... he does have experience of riding a motor bike so has a good idea of what to do. He was smooth and calm and handled the trike really well. I was more nervous than he was I reckon.....

The request by the sanctuary of all of us was that we come to the rally with a tin, or some kind of food for dogs or cats. This was the 3rd trailer on it's way to fulldom. I'm sure that the sanctuary staff are more than happy to see us bikers there for a rally if we can produce so much food to help towards the care of all the animals that the sanctuary take in.

During the second evening in the Marquee we saw more silliness in the form of 5 club members doing a 'Full monty' strip to music for the girls, and 4 female volunteers painting each others boobies with a smiley face with a prize for the winner.

I'd forgotten how noisy the rally campsites are at night, after camping in France for 3 weeks in complete peace. The second night was warmer but neighbours partied late and a couple of revellers nearby ended up having a barney resulting in a few choice 'f' words and someone storming off somewhere.

I'll finish here with a photo in particular for Meredic, who complains that there aren't many of me but plenty of the others..... I'll call this one.................. 'Around Robin', since that's what I am at the moment! Not a particularly flattering photo but obviously untouched and real.

Rivers and/of Sunshine

2007-09-04T08:48:00.000+01:00

We're back from our hols now and our photos are uploaded and in my Flickr account in the side bar for anyone who is interested.

I gather that we had as much rain over in Brittany as most of England did for the time we were away. The first 4-5 days were hot and sunny enough for us to only want to be on the beach for a few hours during the afternoon. We played in the waves and laid in the sun and enjoyed the warmth. Then the rain set in, each day we would hear that it may improve the next, and each day we woke up to overcast skies and strong winds, and often, lots of the wet stuff.

Of course this meant that we couldn't go out on the Trike, so we played lots of games and read alot, (7 books by me). We had Mexican dominoes, Scrabble, Uno, Rummikub, Canasta, and towards the end of the holiday the Dutch lads bought us Triominoes too. The kids were happy because they had friends to hang around in tents with, and at times, several of them joined us in games.

One day we headed off to St. Cast de Guildo, about 20k's away, and sat in a beachside cafe for a while. When we returned to the Trike we discovered that the 2 K & N filters on the carburetors had been stolen. Someone had come along in broad daylight and armed with a screw driver and just unscrewed the hose clamps and gone off with them. We knew that there was no point in going to the Gendameries because they would take one look at the Trike and have no sympathy because Trikes are illegal in France, though we are legal as visitors. So off we headed back to the tent. Gman has a French friend on site who has a 4x4, and after explaining what had happened he took Gman off to find some replacements.

Another day it poured with rain and during the morning Gadgetman and Gadgeteen decided to catch the bus into a nearby town for the afternoon. Near enough as soon as they were off the rain came down harder and harder and before long, a lake gradually appeared in a dip next to the 'party tent'. It got to the point where I was bailing out the lake to try to prevent flooding the area under the party tent because next would be our tent. Friends from surrounding tents and caravans came and helped with buckets, saucepans and dustpans for scooping and the rain stopped for a while. We thought we were winning when we reduced the lake down to a puddle and all my helpers retreated back to the comfort of their tents to dry off.

Then the rain came down again, and not just sprinkling down but absolutely pouring down and there was nothing that I could do to prevent the lake growing and growing until the whole area under the party tent was a lake too. Gteens shoes and football started floating around. Gadgetgirlie called me from inside the tent and when I opened the tent flap and poked my head through, my heart sank. There were rivulets of water worming their way all across the floor over the green floor covering. Everything on the floor was wet, including the electrical things. I got Ggirlie and her friend out and Roget, a neighbour turned the electricity off for me. It was so difficult to communicate because the rain was coming down onto the roof of the tent so hard that we had to shout.
Roget and his wife are on site every year and always have 2 caravans with a porch each, so that their grown up kids can visit during the summer. The second one was empty now, so Roget and Ann-marie offered the use of it to put all the belongings from the floor of our tent, oh, how grateful I was. Our individual sleeping spaces were fine because they are in separate compartments but everything on the floor had to go into the porch of the caravan. It also enabled the 'river', as I called it, to flow through the tent unimpeded too. (This is where I am reminded of the film - 'A river runs through it'). The dutch lads gave a helping hand and ran back and forth carrying our stuff for me, they were so speedy and in no time at all the base of our tent was flowing freely!

Some of the electrical items got a good soaking, like the ice boxes, (2), and phone and battery chargers. This is one of the downsides of being a Gadget family, there is just so much stuff to get wet and so much stuff to move! I am not a natural Gadget person, so find some of what we take so unnecessary but Gman makes sure that we use it so I stay shtum as much as I can.

Gman and Gteen were gobsmacked when they returned later on, said that it had hardly rained where they were. We decided that moving the tent to a place where there was no chance of a lake would be a good idea......

Many of the campers in our area were familiar faces and many were friends, Jeremy, who we met the first year we visited was absent, but he rang us a couple of times from Greece. This is the first year that he hasn't come and I reckon that he was suffering from withdrawal symptons over there on a beach in the sun. His brother Leonard was in our camping area though, with Inge, his wife, and daughter Manouk. Dick and Leni are regulars too, and later on Nico & Jackie and their son Maarten and Wendy with their 2 kids came too. Last year we met Gills & Marie-Lawrence and her associated large family. Gills has a Harley Davidson too and belongs to a club in Paris. He and Gman got on really well and fortunately Gil also speaks some English. We met up with Dirk, a 38 yr old German (who doesn't really speak any English), that we met last year too. This year though he is in love. He has met and fallen head-over-heels in love with Isabelle, who is French, a 41 yr old mother of 4, and lives locally. She doesn't speak any German either, and neither does Dirk speak any French, but they manage. They spent every day of his 5 weeks holiday together, and during the last week he packed up his tent and moved in with her. They popped back for evening visits a couple of times and looked just so happy together.

I spoke French at every opportunity which was every day really. Roget and Ann-Marie don't speak any English, and each year they have noticed that I spend more and more time chatting with them. We socialised with the usual French crowd too, the crowd of about 30+ caravans that all seem to be related or know each other. They are from Angers, so not far really.

We met up with Patrick & Ingrid for a BBQ in night. He used to be the baker and owner of the Boulangerie in the local village. This year he has sold up as a result of the break up of his marriage, and with Ingrid, his girlfriend, has bought another boulangerie a 2 hour drive away. They returned to see her mother, Claudie, who we had popped in to see during our first week.

We started socialising with Melchure and his family this year too. We have seen him and his dad every year since 2001 but they seemed to go off and do their own thing every day and we just didn't get the opportunity to meet and spend time with them. His dad, Pierre plays a mean fiddle and often would practice in the evening outside his tent. This year Melchure is 17, and more out going as a result. I find out that his parents are not together but that every year his mother rents a Gite nearby where she stays with his half-sister. Nicole is a teacher of Philosophy and quite wacky and quirky, and his half-sister, Megali is studying linguistics and although petite, plays rugby. During the days of all the rain we spent a couple of visits with them in the Gite, watching a rugby friendly between France and England, and sharing a roast chicken dinner.

Gman took loads of campers off for rides on the Trike up to the Lighthouse a couple of miles away and is on youtube now. You can check this out for fun.

Well, another summer is over, my first spent without smoking! Yep, managed to keep going with the no smoking but found that I ate more instead. Pain aux chocolates and croissants every day! We had a few meals out too, for us to be satisfied we had to have Moulles & Frites, Gallettes and crepes, and a visit to our favourite pizza place hidden away in Sable D'or des Pins only found by those in the know. We had a couple of visits to the cheapy shops too, and I found a lovely sweet wine so came back with a couple of cases.

Our camping is not over for the year though, we're off to somewhere in Cambridgeshire next weekend for a bike rally, bare essentials this time though, no Gadgets......

The Gadgets go on holiday

2007-08-04T23:07:00.000+01:00

We're off to our favourite Brittany campsite tomorrow. The trike is back together again and running better than before and the trailer is packed full to the brim as usual, just the bicycles to go on, the cool bag to fill, and the tuna mayonaise sandwiches to make. Decided to go from Poole this time, much cheaper and a shorter journey over to St. Malo.

So to all of you that pop by......fare thee well for the next 3 weeks.

Ps......Gadgeteen is behaving himself pretty much for now, maybe he realises just how much he was pushing us, or maybe all his friends are away for the summer, either way.....we have a reprieve for now and he's actually being quite helpful at times.

Right ..... now ..... back to the checklist ..... camera and charger ..... check ..... Euros and cards ..... check ..... passports ..... check ..... ferry tickets ..... check.

Pps....Just noticed that the above post has Saturdays date but I posted it on Monday and now it's Tuesday and we're off now....byeeeeeeee!

Gadgeteen, alcohol and the local A & E

2007-07-25T22:35:00.000+01:00

Earlier on this evening I answered my mobile....

'Is that Gadgeteen's Mum?'

'Yes, why?' - heart already in mouth.

'This is a paramedic from the London Ambulance Service. We've got your son here, drunk and lying in his own vomit. We're taking him to hospital and have to inform you because he's only 14'.

Oh my god!

Turns out that he's been home today whilst we were at work and picked up Gmans almost full bottle of Blue Label Vodka, and gone off into town again.

I have been to the, get this....'pediatric' A & E, that made me laugh, and sat with him for a while. He didn't seem to know who I was. I've obviously spoken to the doctor & nurses, who have sent me home whilst they sober him up. I did ask if they would pump his stomach but they said that they don't use that method anymore. Nowadays they fix 'em up with a line 'n drip and rehydrate 'em. We expect a call any moment to go and collect him.

Gadgeteen goes AWOL again

2007-07-23T20:52:00.000+01:00

Fate has been testing my resiliance since I stopped smoking in several ways, but funnily enough every stressful situation seems to involve Gadgeteen, so I guess it's not fate really.

The most recent test was during this last weekend.

Gteen had promised to collect Gadgetgirlie from school on Friday because they both finished earlier than usual for the last day of term. To cut an even longer story short - He didn't. Gadgeteen wasn't even answering his mobile or texts and I didn't have a clue where he was.

This was the Friday of the torrential rainfall in our area and the subsequent flooding to all the underpasses on the A3, which naturally resulted in the A3 being closed in both directions. I use the A3 to get home, and the journey usually takes me about 15 minutes from work.

So I had Gadgetgirlie stuck in an empty school with the last of the school staff still there finishing off bits and pieces. My last resort to getting her collected, was calling our neighbour, but I didn't have their number so I had to get the school to ring them, their daughter being in the same class as Ggirlie. I knew they wouldn't be best pleased as they had already collected their daughter and deliberately left Ggirlie because they knew the Gteen was collecting her.....Still, nothing else could be done until I got home....

My journey then took an hour and a half of driving slowly in the general direction of home, along the detour that everyone else was on. Aaaaaaah!

....I rushed over to our neighbour as soon as I arrived, only to be greeted by a very angry neighbour, who had a good old go at me for having to go back up to the school to collect Ggirlie. He went on to tell me that five minutes before the school had called him, he had received a call from his brother saying that his neice had just been involved in a car accident whilst crossing the road, and had broken her leg quite badly. He was cross and stressed, and worried that he might need to go and look after his other neices and nephews.

I felt so humiliated and ashamed at being told off and having a son that had let the side down like that. I collected Ggirlie and came home very cross and upset with Gteen.

The neighbour said that he had even seen Gteen at lunchtime, and it was obvious by the dirty crockery, that he had eaten lunch at home so I knew that he had deliberately gone somewhere and purposely switched off his phone.

Grrrr! I really wanted a cigarette many times that evening I can tell you but somehow resisted.

Through a friend, (Lala actually), whose number Gteen wouldn't know, we eventually found out that he was okay and somewhere warm and dry, then he hung up on her.

Saturday was Gman's parent's golden wedding anniversary and they had a huge party organised for family and close friends, to celebrate their 50 years of marriage. We were all expected to be there of course.

Gteen didn't get home before we left, so we decided to lock the house up really securely so that he wouldn't be able to get in if he did return during the day.

At the party everyone asked where Gteen was and all we could tell them was that he had done a runner and we didn't know where he was. We had a lovely day and the rain stayed away for most of the afternoon. We got back home well after dark to discover no Gteen, but signs that he had been sitting in the porch for a time. He eventually came in about an hour later. He disappeared up to bed straight away and we decided to deal with him in the morning.

Lala was 14 only 8 years ago and was a bit of a rebel herself. She was great on Friday evening, calming me down from my extremely angry state and offering her two cents worth of advice, which was a much calmer response than the way I felt like dealing with him.

We've dealt him a few consequences and banned him from a few things and told him that if he wants to live with us then he needs to follow the house rules that we all live by. If he wants to do something like that again then he can go and live somewhere else. If he thinks that he can do better with his friends then with us at home then don't bother coming back. Hope that he will take what we say seriously and realise that we love him and care for him and are the better option for his well being.

Calshot & beyond

2007-07-15T16:22:00.000+01:00

Yesterday I dusted her off and wiped away the cobwebs, for a day out along the south coast, led by me, to ensure that we don't have to do any 'U' turns.

We all met up at the Gadget home and left Gadgetman rewiring the trike.

Then headed down to Calshot for lunch, where Lala pulled on Fazermans jacket....and pulled them both backwards off the bench seat onto the ground, that was funny. Then she went off to meet the sea.....that was funny too....

......Fazerman unsuccessfully avoided a photograph

....then posed for me in front of Calshot castle, keen to get back on the road....

Off we rode, through the New Forest, and saw lots of wild ponies, which thrilled Lala to bits because she'd never seen wild ponies before. Then we sat behind lots of traffic and didn't get over 40 mph, the limit in the forest because of the ponies and their foals. The sun shone and we passed through picturesque countryside.

Somewhere near Lymington we stopped in a petrol station where I filled up and we rehydrated ourselves. Fazerman made Lala's bike disappear whilst she was in the shop. She had to go and find it and we thought that was really funny and all laughed.

Then we came to the sea again, Milford-on-Sea this time, for the view of The Needles off the end of the Isle of Wight.

and the houses that have the view of The Needles

Lala met the sea again and got really wet....that was really funny and quite entertaining....

She liked the Needles very much but said that this would be the closest that she would ever get 'cos she doesn't 'do' boats.

My intention for our final stop for the day was a place that I remembered visiting that I thought was Sandbanks, just on from Bournemouth. After a long ride there through lots of traffic, I realised that it wasn't the place that I had intended after all, and after looking at the map again I realised that Mudeford was in fact the place that I remembered, with a spit of land and a ferry and an ice-cream shop.

So we had an ice-cream on the beach and watched beach volley ball for a while.....Lala enjoyed the view with the boys.....

so did lots of other people....

Robert did come with us, as you can see, but he was so well behaved that he doesn't really get a mention. It goes to show that those that shout loudest, get heard, and in this case....seen! Robert and I laughed a lot at the antics of Lala and Fazerman, so were an appreciative audience.

By then it was well after 6, and we were meant to be back at the Gadget house for 7 to meet up with all the 'other halves', for a chinese take away. We weren't going to make it but blasted our way illegally up the A35, A337, A31, M27, M3, A322 and the A3 until we got home at 8, absolutely shattered after a 230 mile days ride.

Britishexpats forum meet & picnic

2007-07-12T20:38:00.000+01:00

Last weekend we met up with a bunch of people that are members on the expats forum that I am also a member. This was our 3rd meet for a chat and a picnic and each time we've met in a different area so have met different people.

The 1st meet was in Sherwood forest at the Major Oak. We waved huge Canadian flags around in the car park and attracted loads of attention from everyone visiting but at least we all met up. The weather was great, about 15 couples & families turned up from all points of the compass and we nattered away all afternoon about our plans and dreams of life in Canada. A few of us stayed in a B & B so enjoyed a few bevvies in the evening too. We felt like we'd known each other years because of the contact on the forum.

The 2nd meet was in Arundel near the castle, again we had a lovely sunny day and the kids played in the playground whilst we chatted the afternoon away. We ended the day with a pizza express meal for 12.

This 3rd one was in Shropshire near Bewdley in Upper Arley, on the river Severn. We went up on Friday evening and set up camp with another family on a campsite with a fantastic view across the valley with the river below.

No, this isn't our tent, just Gadgeteen's 'room with a view', his feet smell and he snores, so we put him away from us all!

Those meeting us for the picnic could hardly miss us.......

Except that 'someone', whom I won't name 'n shame here, forgot which way up a maple leaf goes!

Everyone found us, well, lots turned up anyway....

Some us wandered up to Arley station, though unfortunately the steam train can't run at the moment because the recent storms have caused about 40 breaches to the track.

The river was swollen with flood water too, some of the river paths were submerged, with many riverside trees and bushes underwater. It was flowing extremely quickly as you can tell by all the swirls on the surface.

We had a super-hot day and all caught the sun. It was fab to meet so many others from the forum that we've not met before, one particular family will no doubt remain friends in Canada in the future too. They are heading to Alberta, so not a million miles away and we have a lot of contact on the forum.

The kids had great fun in the field because the grass was so long, we frequently had to go off looking for lost Frisbees, balls and small kids too.

Gadgeteen got himself slightly lost whilst insisting on running back to the campsite ahead of us. The only problem was that he didn't know when to turn away from the river to climb the hill to the campsite, and he just kept walking/running along the riverbank. We got quite worried about him because he didn't turn up for dinner. we went back down to the river looking for him and Gadgetman went out in the car too. Eventually he turned up on foot about two and a half hours later than he should have been, just before dark .....and looking rather sheepish. If he had waited for me and the other mum, we were walking back too anyway, and he would not have had the long walk that he did, but his pig-headedness got in the way as usual.....

I'll post the rest of the weekends photos in flicka

A healthier me

2007-07-09T19:29:00.000+01:00

I can't beleive that after 28 years of smoking I am finally free from my addiction....well.....on the way anyway.

Zyban is helping by dealing with my cravings, and I have changed a few routines as well. I no longer drink copious quantities of coffee, (in fact I've not had any today).
I chew lots of gum and suck on sugarfree sweets during the day, and I swim and go to the gym on alternate days.

I'm only at the end of day 5 but my feeling is that I don't want to smoke anymore, rather than, oh just one cigarette a day won't do any harm, which is what is happening to a colleague.

I can still be around people that smoke but I just don't want smoke. Isn't it weird how Zyban can take away the thoughts about wants and cravings like that. The course is 7 weeks long, by which time I should be completely cured.

So that's an extra £5 a day in my pocket and £140 per month! Jeepers-creepers that's a lot!

I've had few of the side affects that are listed on the instructions. My mouth/lips are a bit dry, I've had nights of broken sleep with weird and disjointed dreams, and I seem to need to wee more but that's probably be down to the 2 litres of water that I'm drinking every day. My water bottle goes everywhere with me, it's becoming a comfort thing. Green tea is my evening drink now, full of powerful antioxidents to fight off free radicals apparently, a bit too much info for my head but it tastes nice enough.

I am seriously dieting too, I really want to shift this excess weight and get back to feeling comfortable about me. I don't intend to eat badly just because I'm not smoking so figured that to avoid doing just that I would work on both at the same time.

Mistaken Identity?

2007-06-25T19:48:00.000+01:00

'What happened here Gadgeteen?'

'Dunno, wasn't me. Why do you always blame me for everything? Gadgetgirlie must have done it.'

'You're having a larf, Gadgeteen, no way could she have done that, come on, own up, what happened?'

'I DID NOT DO IT' (shout, shout, strop, strop, stomp, stomp)........

Below is the visual evidence so that you guys can decide on who the guilty party is for yourselves.

Gadgetman had actually spent quite a time filling in holes, (in anticipation of the redecorating that still awaits), left by 1) the old stairgate on the right, from years and years ago that got bigger somehow, and 2) the old cat flap-sized hole down on the left, that disappeared through to the cupboard behind, up a ramp, and to a window, where there was a cat flap for the previous occupants disabled cat! I hasten to add that the said window was in fact 5' above ground....Work that one out!

The 3 B's 'Only fools and bikers' Rally

2007-06-24T18:20:00.000+01:00

The 3 B's are a bunch of bikers that live on the borders of Surrey, Sussex and Hampshire, and 13 years ago they held their first rally in the field behind The Mucky Duck at Effingham, (Surrey), otherwise known as The black Swan. Such was the success that they now are on their 3rd site due to the popularity of the rally, evident by the numbers that show up year after year.
The site is within the grounds of Headley Park, near Borden, Hants, with lots of flat grassed area for campers, a large stocked pond for fishing, and woods with walks around the pond.

Gadgetgirlie enjoys the view of the pond.

The kids get together for 'footie'

A biker arrives for the Saturday evening entertainment, laden with camping gear.

Another couple arrive at the gate.

The bike show is well attended, with 10 categories for us to vote for on our voting slips.

Love the paint job.

Awesome engineering and radical look.

Another example of a V8 trike, adapted for a family of 4 from Moseley, though unfortunately his gearbox went on the way down to the rally, (like ours did a few weeks ago).

Some other bikes on show...

...or hidden around the back of the stalls

Lots of viewers stand around discussing what they're looking at.....

An original Indian, sounded great...when she eventually roared into life after lots of fiddling and about 12 kickovers....

Detailed paint job.

Live music played in the beer marquee, there was a huge firework display organised by the pyromaniac section of the club, and a brilliant fire to sit around after dark o'clock.

We had intended staying for the weekend but school shoes had to be bought on Saturday morning, so we arrived in time for the bike show during the afternoon. Gadgetman won a £50 tattoo in the raffle, (for which he will have to make a special trip to Kettering for), I bought some new bike gloves, Gadgeteen and Gadgetgirlie had loads of money off us, met some old friends and made some new ones, and Gadgetgirlie lost her brother's football. We met up with Stan & Jane who organise the Isle of Wight rally, and were actually able to sit and chat with them for a while, nice to see them relaxing at someone elses rally and able to just sit!

Fazer and Lala rode down to see what a rally was all about. Fazer had a bit of a shock at the gate when one of the 3 B members, who'd had quite a bit to drink, demanded a ride down to the marquee. Fazer has never had anyone as pillion before, let alone a pissed someone! The trouble was that the route to the marquee was grassy and slippery and muddy, (tee-hee), and the route to parking for day visitors was dry tarmac. Lala then followed Fazer down the slippery slope....assuming that it was the way to the parking area....then they both had to make 'u' turns and come back up again. Good test for their riding skills....I really don't like muddy slopes on a bike....Next year Lala is keen to come and camp for the weekend, Fazer would probably get bored and want to go off for rides during the day...
All in all a great day out.

Bike fun at last

2007-06-17T21:12:00.000+01:00

It's been a long time a coming, haven't been out on the bike for yonks and yonks, what with my broken leg n' all.

For the last few weeks I've been building up to this day, just waiting to be comfortable with the strength in my ankle.

I've had to buy new protective clothing too. My leathers won't fit for some time yet due to the size of me at the moment so that was a quick exit of £180 from my meagre bank balance, then there was the matter of insurance and tax. Comp insurance was only £122 so there are advantages to being a dinosaur after all. I remember paying £800 TPFT when I first started on my 750cc Honda.

So....charged up the battery, warmed her up, replaced the tax disc, put some air in the tires, filled her up and rang GSX guy.

I met him in the hospital, where we were following each other around with our crutches having our casts off, and x-rays, and then trekking over to the physio dept. He was a boy racer on those crutches and I was the one with 'L' plates. I'd been well looked after during my time in cast but he'd had no such luxury. He lost weight as a result and I'd gained a ton.
He had fallen on the first day of his skiing trip somewhere cold and snowy, and broke his tib & fib. He had to have a plate fitted, so had a scar running down his leg to hinder his recovery too. We got chatting, as you do, and gave him a lift home afterwards to save him a bus journey.
Turns out he has a bike too, also sitting in his garage gathering dust, waiting and waiting to be taken out for a ride.
A week later we took him out for the day on the Trike down to Littlehampton and nattered away easily. I said I'd keep in touch, so that I could drag him out, kicking and screaming in protest, for bike rides,...if he'd even consider riding with a Harley.
So, today was the day, I was well excited, champing at the bit I was. GSX guy turned up on his GSXR 600 and deemed me suitable company for the day so off we rode, leaving Gadgetman working on the Trike.

A few weeks ago the gearbox seized, and since then he has had to take the gearbox and engine out, send off the box for repairs, and yesterday he picked it up again. Next weekend we are off to a bike rally so he is keen to see if he can get it back together before then. So much for a relaxing fathers day today for him.

I got that buzzy happy smiley feeling as we rode along the familiar roads to Newlands Corner, my bike responded beneath me to every curve and straight, she felt so good, she sounded great, I felt at home and at peace within.

Time flew by as we sat with our coffees at Newlands in the mid afternoon sun, then we headed off down the A281 to Devils Dyke, down near Brighton. The A281 is actually a really decent riding road, lots of little villages, a fair few open stretches of road to open up on, some nice bends, plenty of over-taking opportunities, (which is just as well cos Sunday drivers were out in force), uppy-downy bits, and the big hill at the end.

Yet again I missed the turning for the top of Devils Dyke, so took the long way round. The pub at the peak is so poorly sign posted, only those in the know can ever get there. There are lots of sign posts outside carparks for 'Lower Devils Dyke' this and 'upper Devils Dyke' that, but none that indicate the way to the top. You'd think that I'd be one of those in the know by now, considering that this was my 3rd trip up there, but each time I've got it wrong, and too much time has passed between each trip for a blonde like me to remember.

It was chilly up there today, the sun of Surrey was replaced by the cloud of Sussex, and the chill of sea air. Nonetheless we sat outside with our soup and coffees, and enjoyed the far reaching views. Box Hill, Leith Hill and The Hogs back lined the horizon to the north, and the South Downs stretched east and west into the distance. Walkers dotted the hills, and kite flyers took advantage of the breeze.

Time passed quickly by as our bikes sat and cooled in the car park, then we just had to start northwards again. We discussed blatting back up the M23, but opted for the same route back because of all the Sunday day-trippers that would clutter the M23 and get in the way of a blat. Not a lot used the A281, only locals really, so lots of vehicles travelling at 40mph and turning off to go home. We broke up the journey back with a pit stop at Box hill then headed off to our respective homes.

Catch up time

2007-06-12T11:29:00.000+01:00

I've been spending all my spare writing time on the Britishexpats forum, writing this and that and posting on others threads.

We have decided to apply to immigrate to Canada via the long term/slow route, which is under the skilled Worker Permanent Residents route. This process could take between 36-48 months because the Canadian High Comission in London only has an annual quota of 16,000 visas to dish out but 32-48,000 are applying.

We sent off our application last Friday the 8th June, and just to get an Aknowledgement of Receipt takes about 4 months, but at least we can get in the queue now that it's in.

The reason for this change of approach is for the financial security that we will have in 3 years time. That's not to say that we won't both have to work anyway, but that we will be elligible for a small monthly income and a lump sum that we wouldn't get if we went now.

My cast is a distant memory, but getting rid of all the swelling and getting back all the movement that I had there is taking alot longer than I anticipated. lots of physio and exercise is helping. Unfortunately, I'm a bit of a heffalump now, I put on alot of weight whilst being immobile and nothing fits anymore, apart from my flexible friends, elasticated everything!

I've yet to get back on the bike again but the pangs are getting too much and I have just been out and bought some LARGE sized protective clothing, insured the bike again, and am waiting for the docs to come through so that I can get the tax sorted. I also have to take her for her first MOT within a month. She is sitting in the garage covered in dust so needs some tlc too.

Big apologies to anyone that still bothers to see if I am writing but check out the forum if you want to see what is drawing me away from here.

Oh dear, what have I done?

2007-04-08T13:27:00.000+01:00

I was just trying out the new 'easy' template adjustments thingy and seem to have mucked my blog up badly. This isn't how I would like it. I don't want numbers in brackets next to the months of previous posts, and I want all my side bar icons back and everything back laid out the way it was.

It will take a alot of fiddling with the html to get it right again, which is what I thought I would be avoiding having to do by using the new easy layout tab in the first place!

That's what comes of fiddling with what doesn't need fiddling with.....

2 more weeks! Aaaaah!

2007-04-07T21:13:00.000+01:00

Does this look familiar? Too bloody familiar.

Off we went to the hospital last Monday to finally have the cast removed, there I sat, looking forward to having my leg back, then off I went to have the purple cast removed with some kind of angle grinder. Cor, it was lovely to have a good old scratch, but my leg just didn't look like my own and had a bad case of dandruff. My ankle was so swollen that the ankle bones weren't even there to be seen, and it wouldn't obey my instructions either when I tried to get it to move.

Off we went to have another x-ray to check that the bone had healed, then back we came for the verdict from the registrar. "Well, you've had 6 weeks in plaster..." "no," I said, "5 weeks actually." "Oh, well it should have been 6 weeks," he said, "but anyway, the bone hasn't completely healed, and we think".... I just knew what he was going to say next. We saw the x-ray, and could see that the line of break was still visible. So, off I went to the plaster technician with the choice of colours and the sparklies and here I sit for another 2 weeks.

A step forward

2007-03-31T23:39:00.000+01:00

The immigration consultant that I mentioned in my last post is taking on our case, I say it like this because he operates on a 'no visa no fee' basis and that means that he believes that he can get us a Permanent Residents, (PR), visa. Obviously there are conditions attached, like; we have to pass our medicals and police clearance, and it wouldn't be the consultants fault if Canada shifted the goal posts during our process and long wait, but to me this is a great move in the right direction.

We've signed the contract and sent the wire transfer of £2055, ($4000), over and are just waiting for it to clear. This fee includes a fee for assisting us and an employer with obtaining a work permit if we can find Gman a job in the meantime.

Only a consultant in Canada can deal with our case, because only they are recognised, experienced, and qualified to deal with applications for immigration. A lawyer in the UK would not have passed the prerequisite exams and would not be a member of CSIC, the Canadian Society of Immigration Consultants.

After the payment goes through, we start gathering the supporting paperwork together to send with our application. We will be applying under the simplified skilled worker route but because of my upbringing and job we will need to show the initial immigration officer that views our file, just exactly why and how we qualify for the points.

I'm going down this route now so that we can get in the queue as soon as possible, so far we are struggling to find an employer willing to take Gman on without knowing of him through his Canadian experience. Yes, maybe this would be different in another part of BC or in Alberta, but we really don't want to start anywhere else, just to have another big move later on, another year. We don't want to live in limbo like that and have to settle twice, we'd rather wait until we can get PR and go where we want to be, Black Creek, on Vancouver Island, together with the rest of my family.

I am excited to at least have discovered that we can go, albeit 3-5 years down the line, at least it's not dependant on getting jobs first, and anyway, we will be better off financially then which will ease the stress of settling there.

So I have just spent this years holiday money, and we still have to find the application fees of £616, ($1400), when we are ready to send the application off to the CHC, (Canadian High Commission).

Oh well, anyone know where we can camp for free this summer?

I'll leave todays post with a quote that I found the other day.

If you believe you can, you probably can. If you believe you won't, you most assuredly won't. Belief is the ignition switch that gets you off the launching pad.

Invalid update

2007-03-22T14:07:00.000Z

No luck so far on the job hunt front for Gadgetman as a way to get us into Canada, but I have discovered something interesting that brings a ray of hope to my heart.

I am so pleased to have this laptop of mine with wireless connection, right now in particular, whilst my ability to manoeuvre is restricted by my leg in cast. Internet research has kept me up way into the early hours most nights, sitting on the sofa with my legs up in perfect uninterrupted peace. Who would have thought that so much research was necessary or possible?

Well, it wouldn't be needed if I found the answers straight away and had a straight forward case, but I haven't so I keep following one line of enquiry until I've exhausted all avenues, then I pick up on something else and explore that.

People keep asking me how it's all going and just don't have any reason to know what's involved in such a huge life change. It's not only about finding the way to get the points or finding Gman a job, it's about thinking about and preparing for all sorts of things that have to be dealt with in anticipation of finally getting that visa.
What happens to child benefit abroad?
Does having a drivers record from DVLA help when getting insurance in Canada?
Can one use ones no claims bonus?
Do you have to pay any tax when taking large amounts of money abroad to Canada?
How does one get kids into schools?
What about getting credit?
What happens to a state or occupational pension?
What about medical care?
What are realistic living costs?
What's involved in taking the BC driving test?
Which shipping company is recommended by others?
Where does one go for the medical for the visa application?

The list goes on and on.

The forum that I've mentioned before is my main source as a starting point, and the other day I happened to find that someone else who was in the same job that I am, has been successful in claiming the vital 'education' points by submitting that our line of work is the same as a two year apprenticeship and therefore qualifies us for 20 extra points. His application was approved and within 4 months he received his visa and was on his way. He was nice enough to email me with details of how he evidenced his application.

I have also been in contact with the forum immigration consultant and filled in initial assessment forms to see what he could come up with. I attached a synopsis of my upbringing too, to explain why I am unable to prove my schooling because of our nomadic lifestyle. He backed up what I'd just found out and has asked for more specific details of my work training and background with a view to claiming points in the same way. This would mean that we are then able to at least apply for permanent residence via the skilled workers route and get in the queue that currently is 4-5 years long! who knows though, we could be fast tracked too.

I know that it sounds a ridiculously long time scale, but waiting is better than nothing and at least we can still look at getting Gman a job in the mean time.

Gadgeteen had his 'academic review' day yesterday so we borrowed a wheelchair from elderly neighbours so that I didn't have to stay behind. His school is on 4 floors and we had 5 minutes in each of his teachers classrooms.

I must say that I am very proud of Gteen at the moment, he has settled in to his new school very well now, and all but his English teacher said that they would like to see him in their GCSE classes. He has been moved up in Maths because he scored above his projected target level, and despite his self-belief, he is top of the class in French. His history teacher said that if he didn't sit with the 2 disruptive kids then he would do much better, but the up side of that is that those 2 kids are hardly ever there due to truanting. Gteen came out of there glowing with pride!

I had a couple of visitors yesterday, friends from work. They'd been out for a ride and popped in to check on the invalid. Persuaded me to sit on my bike and start her up. Mmmmm, can't wait to get out for a ride on her again. At least the engine hasn't seized up in protest at lack of use.

I arranged for an estate agent to visit this week, thought I might as well make use of the time whilst stuck at home. He said that we need to paint the house white, inside and out! Well, he would I suppose. We've still got jobs to do before ready to sell and don't want to sell until we go to Canada anyway but at least I could get an idea of the value. I was disappointed to hear him value it at £20-30 thousand under what I'd hoped but he did say that he couldn't really compare it to anything else because of the layout and the large workshop and recommended that I get another opinion.

Only another 11 days of the cast, it feels as if there are ants in there sometimes, and at others it digs into my leg uncomfortably. I look forward to doing some hard physical work afterwards to build some muscle up and lose some of this weight.

Oh, and this is what it looked like about an hour afterwards, see, it doesn't look obviously broken does it, just swollen. Gman took this on his camera and just didn't get around to downloading it.

Broken Trips

2007-03-07T22:51:00.000Z

Last time I broke anything I was 7.

We were in the Cape Verde Islands with the mast stretched out on the shore. Dad was working to replace the splintered topmast.

Somewhere in between The Canary Islands and Barbados, Riduna, our little 32’ gaff cutter had a close shave with a super tanker in the middle of the night.

The way I remember Dad telling it is that one night we all came down with tummy bugs, and because there was no wind, and dad thought we were out of the shipping lane, he decided it would be pretty safe to snooze below with the rest of the family.
He awoke in the dark to the sound of waves slightly breaking and figured that there must be some wind, so stuck his head out of the companionway. No wind but he could see the breaking waves in the dark of the moonless starless night. He then looked up and up and up and far above him saw the decks of a HUGE ship. The night wasn’t as dark as he had thought; he was looking out at the hull.

We were lucky; the ship was steaming past us travelling in the same direction. The motion rolled our boat into the hull and the topmast pounded against it. It snapped off and fell down the gap into the sea, taking the forestay with it. As the ship’s bridge passed Dad could hear foreign voices shouting but there was nothing they could do. It takes a super tanker 7-10 miles to stop. He said that the ship took ages to pass, went on and on, and with each roll he thought that we would be goners, or that the forestay that was trailing would get caught up in the mega-sized port propeller and pull us in with it. I’m sure he must have been ‘very worried’, (or crapping himself actually), but the tanker passed by and we were left in a quiet sea and a sky full of stars once more. He could see that the ship was an oil tanker but it was too dark to see any identifying features. In those days we didn't have a VHF or any mod cons, just a radar reflector up near the crosstrees, so no way of contacting the ship even if Dad wanted to. We were on our own. Fortunately, as you will see from the photo above, the loss of the topmast only restricted the number of sails we could use, but nonetheless was enough of an inconvenience to have to do something about. Another job for Dad to deal with.

So, we took an unplanned detour to The Cape Verde Islands, and there I was one day riding cross-saddle on someone's bike along the harbour quay. Somehow I managed to let my heel get too close to the spokes and before I knew it I had a cast up to my knee. I'd broken my heel bone. The biggest disappointment was not being able to swim. Dad fixed the mast, we re-provisioned and we were off towards Barbados again before my cast was due off. I remember Dad cutting it off, (the Cast not my leg), somewhere mid-Atlantic and physiotherapy was boat-based.

37 years later and I was ice-skating with Gadgetgirlie down at Guildford Spectrum. I’ve been several times before and after all, I have been roller-blading since Christmas so my ankles are stronger now. Still, I fell loads, got wet, carried on and then fell awkwardly. I knew I’d done something because it felt like someone had pulled a string tight inside my leg, and I couldn’t get up. Major pain died away after a couple of minutes and I thought maybe I’d sprained it. I could wriggle my toes inside my boot so surely it wasn’t broken. The staff skater said that I would definitely know if I had broken it. Ggirlie and her friend hovered anxiously like ducklings. She made me laugh 'cos she kept repeating, ‘Oh mummy, Oh mummy', in her best sympathetic voice. I wasn’t in agony unless I moved my ankle the wrong way but just didn’t want to try to stand on the ice. The staff skater, (after warning me), blew his whistle and cleared all the skaters to the sides. My bum was cold and wet by then and I was quite keen to get off the ice. I was carted off on a stretcher into the first aid room. I wanted to take the boot off, but the firstaider didn’t.
I took my skate off anyway and showed her that I could wriggle my toes, then experimented with moving my foot around. The ankle was swelling up and the firstaider wanted me to go off to hospital. I didn’t. I wanted to get the car and kids home and reassess once there. I showed the firstaider that I could weight bear and put my shoes back on. So I hobbled slowly out to the car and the girls helped and played as we made our way at a snails pace. My car just happened to be parked in the furthest corner of the overflow car park. It couldn’t have been further away. We made it and I collapsed gratefully into the drivers seat. Just to be safe, I practised manoeuvring my foot between the accelerator and brake pedals, and then practised a couple of emergency stops as we drove out of the car park. I figured we were safe with me behind the wheel so off we drove up the A3 and home, 26 miles). My ankle hurt and I could feel it swelling in my shoe so knew a trip to casualty was on the cards. Once home, I gently peeled my sock and shoe off and put it up on the sofa. Andy cooked dinner then later delivered me to casualty armed with my book and mobile. I was done and dusted in 3 hours. Broken fibula but not displaced so no operation needed. Doc was very surprised that I had managed to do what I had, called me a ‘tough lady’. I was pleased to hear that, good to know that I could cope without panicking the kids with screams of agony but then it wasn’t a bad break and I was careful to avoid the painful ankle positions.

I am now on my second cast and was amused to find that I could choose my colour. I didn’t believe the plaster technician when he offered me glitter too. Thought he was taking the mick, he wasn’t, so here I am in a glittery purple cast for 4 weeks.

I’ve only been back at work for a month so in that sense this is very frustrating, however there is nothing that I can do to change what has happened and don’t see why I should avoid any activity just because I might break something. I just have to take something positive from this time of restricted movement and until I can weight bear and anyway for the next 2-3 weeks I have been told that the only way to avoid maximum swelling is by keeping my foot up.

Gman and the kids are being brilliant; in fact Gman is enjoying me being dependant on him for the first time ever, and has been producing some lovely dinners. He would make a great nurse or carer!

Gteen was a bit unsympathetic to start with, thought I was exaggerating and told me I should be going to work because he believed that I would make him go in the same situation! Even he has been helpful, filling up my flask with coffee when asked.

Ggirlie has taken my spot in our bed whilst I have been downstairs on the sofa; hope she doesn’t think this is permanent. She's borrowed a friends spare crutch and has come out with a sympathetic broken ankle.

They have both been taking advantage of my immobility and eating anything yummy in the kitchen when they come home from school.

I managed to watch one day of daytime tv, too dull to repeat and have other options far more interesting.

I’ve spent most of my time with my precious laptop on my lap.
Not playing games or spending money on ebay or such like.
No, I’ve been continuing the research into our Canada plans.
Everything happens for a reason doesn’t it?

We’ve not had any response to job applications sent so far and I have found out that resumes will be binned if attached in our A4 format so no wonder.

I have investigated us renting out our house, taking some capital out, storing all our belongings in the garage and in the loft, and going to Canada on a 6 month reccy visit, during which Gman could take a couple of gas fitter courses to get his qualifications recognised then applying for any suitable jobs going and being on hand to attend interviews. We could buy a motor home and park on my brother’s land and live fairly cheaply. However this is a big gamble and our plans of Gman getting a job may not be as easy as expected or hoped and without a work permit we would have to return to find a source of income.

I am investigating which colleges offer the courses needed by reading lots of college sites and sending lots of emails. I need to establish exactly which course is appropriate for Gmans level of certification and experience. There is no point in going in as a newbie to the trade but he will have to gen up on BC regs and working practices.

I spend many hours on the expats site, taking what I can from others experiences and saving pages on relevant subjects for future use as needed.

I took a practice BC theory driving test that a member had put on as a link and got 24/25.

I’ve welcomed newcomers to the site in the ‘Meet and greet’ forum as I was when I first joined the forum and contributed in several threads, (cyber conversations).

I’ve managed to get hold of my French tutor from evening classes and he has sent me what I’ve missed and will continue to.

I’ve read quite a few books, James Patterson is my latest easy-read thriller author and I stay up far later than I should unable to put my book down.

A long post but hey, lots of time on my hands, (numb bum), at the moment and need to make up for not posting more regularly. I wanted to attach relevant photos and it was all too complicated to load up the laptop with the software needed sooner.

More Canada research

2007-02-26T09:35:00.000Z

I've been spending all my spare time on the British expats site researching our options and reading of others experiences with work permits, immigration consultants, the provincial nomination process, jobs etc etc.. It really is such an informative site and a 'must read' for anyone thinking of immigrating anywhere. We are thinking of employing someone to help Gman get a job, and to speed up the process, an immigration consultant as well. There is just so much detailed paperwork to complete and documents to gather once underway. I am not very confident of going DIY, because if I do make a mistake then the major setback is in time. A consultant will ensure that we get it right first time and the expats site will help us to decide which consultants to go for based on others experiences and recommendations. I'll then post my experiences to newcomers on the forum as others have done for my benefit. There are sharks out there that will just be after our money for as little effort as possible so without a site like this, consultants are unknown entities

We've been busy in other ways too.

We met up with friends from Germany with The Ace Cafe as the rendezvous, then during half term last week we went to see Hot fuzz with Gteen and Gadgetgirlie went iceskating at The Guildford Spectrum with friends.

We had a dinner party on Saturday so the day was spent tidying up, hoovering and cooking. Gman decided that he was better off leaving me to it so got on with another of the 'to do' jobs in the back garden. We had a lovely evening with friends and must do that more often - keeps the house tidier...

Back into Canada mode

2007-02-14T22:27:00.000Z

After long chats with both my brothers, and Pete's girlfriend - I am now back into Canada mode and long to be there with them.

I have applied for another gas-fitting job for Gman and am in the process of applying for a job for him working for one of the local school districts too.

The gadgetkids are really keen and keep asking us when we are going.

It is difficult to sit at this computer after a long day at work and evenings of family routines and scroll through job banks and edit resumes and cover letters but it's our only hope if we want to live to the area that we do on Vancouver Island.

I also need to read and digest the provincial nomination programe web site so that I can encourage prospective employers to consider this program as a way to fill a vacancy by employing Gman. Unemployment in BC is down to 3% as it is in Alberta so filling posts advertised must become more difficult as fewer candidates apply.

My mother has put her house up for sale with the intention of going later this year.

We still have quite a bit to do here on the house but have now finished the front garden, and have had an open fireplace since Christmas too.

Lovely for the chilly evenings.

'Pay as you go' car tax

2007-02-11T11:51:00.000Z

The information below was sent to me via email this morning so I thought I'd spread the word here as well as forwarding it to all my email contacts.

It affects all of us that use cars so I recommend that you at least click on the link to verify the authenticity - or potentially face horrendous bills for driving your car each month!

The deadline is 20th February.

The government's proposal to introduce road pricing will mean you would have to purchase a tracking device for your car and pay a monthly bill to use it.

The tracking device will cost about £200 and in a recent study by the BBC, the lowest monthly bill was £28 for a rural florist and £194 for a delivery driver. A non-working mother who used the car to take the kids to school paid £86 in one month.

On top of this massive increase in tax, you will be tracked. Somebody will know where you are at all times. They will also know how fast you have been going, so even if you accidentally creep over a speed limit, you can probably expect a Notice of Intended Prosecution for speeding with your monthly bill.

This is on the 10 Downing Street's website. Once you've given your details (you don't have to give your full address, just house number and postcode will do), they will send you an email with a link in it. Once you click on that link, you'll have signed the petition.

Apparently 750,000 signatures are required to stop them introducing this tax and there are about 700,000 signatures now.

If you care about this, please sign the petition on No 10's new website and pass this information on to as many people as possible

There are many other petitions that you may be interested in so have a browse and have your voice heard by signing up to those you feel strongly enough about.

The good, the bad, and the bloody-minded

2007-01-30T22:20:00.000Z

The good news is:

Gadgeteen is in another school within a 15minute walk.
He has attended every day.
I’ve been able to return to work this week.
We've coped.
Gteen is not dyslexic, dyspraxic or any other kind of ‘ic’.
I’ve learnt a bit of maths, science art and Japanese economy.
He finally admitted that he did do what he was excluded for.
We all go roller-blading together.
Gteen loves playing poker.
He keeps threatening to run away.
We’ve eaten home-cooked meals every day.
Gteen has not gained any weight.
We still want to go to Canada.
He has ongoing support from outside agencies.

The bad news is:

He is on his 3rd detention.
We have to attend a meeting at Gteen's new school tomorrow.
I'm still on the 'happy' pills for now.
His attitude towards school hasn't changed.
Gteen has a bill of £113 to pay for damaged books.
I’ve fallen over a lot.
We play a lot of poker.
He hasn’t run away yet.
I’ve gained 18 lbs.
Canada plans have not been on the priority list.
It's taken 2 months to sort out.

I know that I've done what I believe to be the best that I can during my time off with Gteen and have balanced this with Gadget girles needs too. I hope that this experience has made a difference, though it's not exactly visably measurable at the moment. Maybe in a few years time Gteen will be able to reflect on this and appreciate the efforts we've made now, to encourage him onto a path in a positive direction, maybe he won't. Time will tell.

One-to-one time

2006-12-14T22:15:00.000Z

I sit here and stare at this empty screen trying to think of how to put into words everything that Gteen and I have been through over the last 3 weeks. It’s been such an intensive one-on-one relationship that has evolved as the days pass to one with much more positive communication between us and a lot less arguing.
We’ve had a combination of appointments with the doctor, visits to the psychiatrist, compromising over the subjects that Gteen chooses to study each day, (and giving different coloured stars depending on the effort put in, then rewarding with a treat, like his current favourite snack – beef jerky), kicking a football around with him outside, (and calling it PE), cooking with him, (Food Tech), receiving and making phone calls to his school, the council exclusion officer, my work colleagues, researching (during the late evenings), on the internet: his school and government education policy, educational psychologists, alternative education & home education, understanding teenage behaviour, and looking for support for parents of excluded teenagers.
I have read articles online from The Independent and Guardian expressing concern about failures within the state schooling system that lead to exclusions and I have read research done by various organisations with suggested solutions too. My head is buzzing with all this stimuli.
I know I am not alone in feeling thwarted and failed by state education and I don’t blame individual teachers. They all have to work extremely hard to cope with the demands of, on average 30 different kids each hour of the school day and must feel equally frustrated that in general, they cannot focus on the needs of individuals, but can only plough through what is expected of them so that they can meet the targets required.
Gteen and I have been dropping off and picking up Ggirlie together, (also PE), then I (or Gteen), have been helping her with her homework. I’ve been actively involved in activities with her and her friends too, (which included having my face painted by her and a friend and making cakes with her and another friend), and of course doing all the usual domestic stuff like cooking healthy dinners, hoovering and doing the laundry, with Gteens’ help too.
We are getting along a lot better as time passes and he is becoming more co-operative, just as I am dealing better with his outbursts of frustration and anger. He is certainly benefiting from having this kind of time with me though I wonder how he will adjust to reintegration into another school.
His freedom is much restricted in that he is not allowed out on his own like before and most of his gadgets have been taken away for the time being. No Xbox or MP3 player, and the spare TV is locked away too. He has earnt his mobile phone back and can have limited use of his Xbox, (which needs the spare TV), during the holidays.
He is still attending Air Cadets but we drop and collect from the door. He can see friends here and indeed have them over for sleepovers during the weekend but visits to see friends will involve us for the transport and be closely monitored too ensure that he is actually there and not out roaming around. Despite all these consequences he is responding really well.
We now have an appointment with an educational psychologist, who is coming to our house in the first week of January. It’ll cost about £700 for a detailed report but will be money well spent in assessing his educational needs. I have been in touch with a behavioural educational psychologist too but she is fully booked until half term in February.
Gteens’ school want to arrange a managed move instead of a permanent exclusion but because we live in one borough and his school is on the nearest border of another borough, the school that has been suggested is just too far away from home so, much to the head teachers annoyance I could only turn it down on the grounds of distance. Anyway it seems to me that they are just not addressing his needs, and his cry for help by his action that started this ball rolling.
Now we have Christmas approaching and I shall finish here with these photos, which we took for this years Christmas card. Gteen made the card on the computer for us as an IT project.

We wish all that pop by a fantastic Christmas with lots of laughter, joy and happiness.

A Gadget crisis

2006-12-03T16:44:00.000Z

My poor old Blog seems to have taken to the back burner during the last few weeks. I just haven't had the heart to write about anything since Gteen has been suspended from school with a view to permanent exclusion subject to a meeting with a board of governors.
I took Gteen to the doctor on the recommendation of the school, and promptly broke down in tears through lack of sleep and worry, so he signed me off sick from work with stress and put me on happy pills. I don't feel very good about it, I've never taken any of these kind of pills before, and don't like having 'stress' on my sickness record, but it's out of my control really. Gteen means more to me than work and I so want him to have a happy life, both at home and at school. I wish I could sort his unhappiness out for him.
In the meantime, I am doing my best to put him back on the right track again, though the last couple of weeks have been like the worst roller coaster ride that I have ever been on in terms of emotional turmoil.
I've bought a couple of Sats revision books and the school have sent him some work to be doing so I have been setting him daily work to do and we have also been cooking together, giving him 'Food Tech' experience.
I've also been making sure that we spend more time together as a family, last weekend we walked up to the park and all played football with Gteen in his favourite goalie position, something that he loves doing. We all enjoyed the time together despite the kids’ moaning about walking, and how boring they thought it would be without their friends along to play with. This week we went to the cinema and saw Santa Clause 3. We took the bus to the edge of Kingston and walked through the town, enjoying the Christmas lights and being together. Afterwards we walked back through the town and saw a different side to it. All the young people crowding in for the pubs and night clubs, drunk and loud. Yesterday I took Ggirlie and a couple of her friends to the local roller-skate disco.
I feel so guilty and responsible for the crisis that we are now facing and am doing whatever I can think of to put it right, though feeling insecure about the way that I have raised him thus far that has led to where we are now. Our doctor is hoping to get family therapy for us to help us too. I so thought that we did right by our kids and it’s awful to think that we have failed them somehow.

So, not a happy posting, and perhaps many who read this will not bother coming back anymore. There are so many families that have far worse lives than we could ever have, I know, but this is how my life, and that of my family affects me, and for those that do pop in from time to time, at least it’s an update.

Autumn ride

2006-11-12T18:59:00.000Z

Flat battery, serves me right. Should have been out on her at least once a week. Instead she has been languishing in the garage gathering not only cobwebs, but sawdust too. Gman came to the rescue yesterday and tickle, (trickle ), charged her.

This afternoon I dressed in all my leather finery and was ready for a blast. I sat astride her and pushed the button. Nothing, dead as a dead thing. Gman had to get another gadget out of the garage and jump start her for me. She roared into life and I knew this ride was just what I needed. The painting can wait.

"Mummy, can I come too, I haven't been on your bike since France and I have got leathers now?" (Fake fashion trousers). Ggirlie was full of wishful hoping.

I left on my own and felt at ease with the world as I rode south into the Surrey countryside. I felt autumn in the breeze and wrapped my chilled hands around a hot chocolate at Newlands Corner as I wandered through the bikes. Damn I've got a horny bike.

The skies spat at me on the way home but I didn't care.

I was recharged too.

I love my bike.

Gadgeteens birthday fireworks & a job?

2006-11-11T20:33:00.000Z

We have actually submitted our first job application for a vacancy in Canada!

Although it is exciting, I don't hold out any hope for of getting beyond the first stage, but at least we have made a step further forward. It's for a heating & ventilation & general maintenance position within a school district on Vancouver Island in the area that we want to move to. Unfortunately we haven't been able to get any work references yet. We've made lots of phone calls but are waiting for letters to come in, though we can't approach Gmans current company because he doesn't want to alert them to our plans until there is something concrete to tell them. We spent many evening hours this past week documenting his practical skills into a cover letter to accompany each job application. This particular job would suit Gman down to the ground. It involves maintenance in 19 schools within the district including 3 on Islands off Vancouver Island and he really would love to work within a school environment. I know he has the right kind of experience too, but we just have to prove it and we can't yet.

I get by on the buzz of the little acheivements each weekend, so that I can appreciate that progress is being made towards getting this house of ours ready. So much to do and so little time to spare.

We celebrated Gadgeteens 14th birthday on Guy Fawkes day and typically everyone appeared to celebrate with us with fantastic fireworks. It's such fun living in a suburb in England on this day because we can share the pleasure of such a variety of fireworks that shoot up into the night sky from many of the back gardens around here. Each year the residential displays seem to increase in sophistication as the market expands to meet the demand. The rockets fly higher, the bangs are louder, the colours are brighter and the patterns in the sky combine more colours and designs. These days people seem to think that anytime from about a week before to the week after the actual day can still be celebrated in the name of Guy Fawkes, and that's fine with us, we love seeing them.

What did shock me though was that 12 days before Haloween we went out as a family to a local resturaunt for a meal, quite rare for us, and whilst we were sitting to our meal a people carrier drew up outside. Two young kids clambered out whilst Mum waited in the vehicle. The kids donned masks and came into the resturaunt and up to each table trick or treating. We were gob smacked! 12 days before! that is just not on and needless to say we told the kids so, as did the other diners. They dashed back out to the waiting car and mum drove away. We are quite prepared on Haloween night, with a spooky dark house, ghoulish decorations and pumpkins, a basket of goodies, and we all dress up and join in the fun, but only on the 31st October and no other. That is just taking the mickey and greedy in my opinion!

Gadgeteen on his birthday

....And Gadgetgirlie sitting in the cereal cupboard!

Things are brightening up in our Close

2006-11-01T16:29:00.000Z

Before the extension to our small 2-bedroomed home, in 2004,

and now, at long last, an after-extension photo, with the outside of the house all painted!

This extension has provided us with an extra bedroom so the kids each have their own space, a fantastic new kitchen and dining area running down the length of the side of the house, an extra living room/spare room for visitors facing the rear garden, and what was the old kitchen to the left of the front door, will now be a computer/den/library/spare room. At the moment it's used as the work/storage room for all the decorating stuff with the convenience of the sink and running water for the many brush washings that I have to do. We also have converted the coat cupboard into a downstairs toilet and added the porch to store the family coats, shoes and outdoor toys.

There is still quite a bit to do, the front garden needs tidying up (and paving, probably), the hall, stairs and landing need alot of post-extension work and decoration, the bathroom ceiling needs attention after the builders put their clumsy feet through it from the loft, and the old kitchen will need converting, then we'll finally be in a position to sell if we get the Canada situation sorted.

On that front, my brothers wife now has our CVs', and is doing a bit of networking and research from her end to see what our chances of jobs are. We've now discussed and accepted the possibility that we may have to start off elsewhere in Canada if a job opportunity comes up, then move to where we want to be if/when our permanent residence application is approved. I also now know that we won't make the required points because of the importance placed on formal education within the points system.

We all want to go so much but realise that if we keep hold of the idea and work at finding a way to make it happen then it will eventually work out, even though it will take patience and perseverance to make it so.

Meanwhile, life continues to be as busy and stressful as ever in the Gadget household, interspersed with a bit of fun, relaxation and laughter.

The Apple market water feature

2006-10-23T20:00:00.000+01:00

We had such fun with this years attractive water feature in Kingston today and spent much more time here than we did buying the school shoes, the sole purpose of our trip into town.

No doubt many would criticize the cost of installment and the waste of water but I saw all ages running the gauntlet, and the elderly sat and chuckled, sharing in the pleasure of others. More use than the leaning telephone boxes, which are only for looking at.

Island Barn Reservoir

2006-10-22T16:11:00.000+01:00

It was a drizzly day today so no painting outside possible, instead I visited the Island Barn Reservoir Sailing Club in West Molesey, just a 15 minute drive away, knowing that rain would not stop the die-hards from getting out there for a race or two.

In the clubhouse I introduced myself to a woman, (Ann) who was on her forth visit crewing for another member in an Albacore. She took a level 1 & 2 course during the summer down at Brighton and wants somewhere local to get some winter practice in.

A good selection of boats were out in the 10-15 kts of breeze, a couple of RS 600s, lots of Lasers, a Topper or two, a couple of Enterprises, a Fireball, and a few others I couldn't name.

There are a few club boats available for use at a nominal rate, including Toppers, Lasers and Enterprises, which would be great for me because I don't want to buy a boat now, due to our plans for Canada.

The reservoir itself has quite a history, as Graham, a veteran member explained, being one of the old style granite and clay ones. They tend to all be concrete nowadays. Apparently the contents of the 122 acre site (and 80 ft depth), would keep Londoners with water supply for just one day, so it isn't in use as a source of water supply, just down the reserve list by quite a long way. Good news as far as the club is concerned because it means that the water levels remain fairly static, though it is topped up once a year.

Yes, this club would suit my needs better than any other at the moment. The costs are low, the members are friendly, club boats are available and it's just so close to home. I would like to get Gadgeteen involved too, just to see if I can change his opinion of dinghy sailing as being too slow and boring for his liking.

We'll see how it goes.....

Local sailing club

2006-10-21T16:12:00.000+01:00

During our visit to the 'Emigrate' show the other weekend we took a break outside on the grandstand at Sandown, which faces west.

In the distance airplanes landed and left heathrow airport, but my eyes were drawn to a much closer more attractive sight.

White and blue sails of dinghies zoomed across a stretch of water surrounded by greenery and trees a mere couple of miles away. A white clubhouse stood proud on the edge of the reservoir facing us in the sunlight.

Last night I finally got around to locating this club.

In my ideal world, priorities would be different and I would have time to go sailing as well as everything else going on for us.

One day I will, but for now I can dream.

Borrowed Sunfish fun circa 1974. Graham relaxes at the bow, Pete sits next to me. Very little wind helps us along.

'Kim' under sail

2006-10-14T19:03:00.000+01:00

At long last I have a couple of photos of 'Kim' under sail scanned in, so that I can show just what she looked like. In the first one, Graham is at the bow, I am sitting just forward of the main mast, and Mum is also on the coachroof. This is also the sail that we took JC on, and he is standing next to the helm facing the camera.

Ahem, yes, well obviously the mainsail and mizzen had seen better days but Dad was a dab hand at repairs and didn't see why we needed to replace sails if they could be made good. We always used the storm jib because it was more comfortable for our day-charter guests, easier to keep her on an even keel and saved on rum punch spillages on the teak decks, which were a pain to scrub off.

'Kim' would fly along at 10 kts on a beam reach and to windward could still plough through the sea at 8 kts, though the automatic bilge pumps had to work harder when we had a good wind due to the downward pressure on the mast step, which was of course, below the waterline.

Occasionally when there was very little wind, we entertained our guests by lowering a long line over the side that trailed behind by 50' or so, and jumped into the sea, much to the consternation of our guests, who would assume that we had fallen overboard. Then we would swim like hell for the trailing line and get towed behind just for fun. Dad didn't like it much when we missed the line and he had to go about and come back and get us though.

When the time came for lowering the sails we had a system, I looked after the jib, and the boys did the mizzen, both sails lowered at the same time for style. Then Dad would lower the main and we three and mum would stow it tidily, whilst Dad returned to the helm to hold the course.

Tending to the anchor was my job. We had a 56 lb CQR on rope, and no anchor winch so I had to haul it up by hand, which was no mean feat. Graham would deal with the dinghy, (which unlike the rubber dinghy shown behind 'Kim' in one of the photos above, was a large cumbersome aluminium one with sharp edges, useful for ferrying our guests to and from the shore), to prevent it from denting the topsides as we went astern. If the topsides did get dented then it was one of our jobs as kids to fill the dents, sand them down and repaint, to keep the topsides looking as smooth as a fiberglass hull. We were proud of our handiwork and therefore extra careful with the dinghy.

So many memories come flooding back as I gaze at these photos, but I shall finish here with my favourite photo of Dad at the helm during our day-chartering days.

The 'Emigrate' show and painting progress

2006-10-09T18:27:00.000+01:00

After a day at the show yesterday, what we established was that Gman needs to get a job offer.
We need to complete his CV, send it over to my sister-in-law to play around with, and network with local companies in the area that we want to move to, as much as possible.
Obviously we are a long way off anything happening at the moment but as a family, are all just so keen to find a way to make it happen.
We could employ the services of an immigration expert, who would charge us anywhere from £1,500-£7,000 to find Gman a job and get us in, but are loathe to do that if we can do the legwork and paperwork ourselves successfully.
First step is to get the CV done.

In other news, 2 coats of white on the front of the house so far is progress, though it's slow going....

We had the extension built 2 years ago, the porch was built last year, then the money ran out and we've been waiting for a friend to render the outside of the porch. He has now done this so I can finally finish the painting of the house. The above photo only shows the first coat.
I do have a slight problem though as far as painting the next colour on...How do I access the part above the porch without sliding down the porch roof?
Hmm...

S/Y 'Kim' and family

2006-10-07T23:20:00.000+01:00

1975 in St. Lucia.

JC and the loss of ‘Kim’

2006-10-04T19:37:00.000+01:00

We called him JC because he lived in a long white robe. He would stand on the shore and wave his arms out-stretched from his side to above his head and back again to attract our attention. The long sleeves of his robe would hang down to triangular points like a wizards robe. Noone else looked like him. He was unique amongst even the most eccentric inhabitants of Grenada, let alone in the boating community.

He came to Grenada looking for a boat to buy. He arrived with his two daughters, who were 13 and 7. He spoke no English but his older daughter spoke a little. She was just a couple of years younger than me but seemed to be a surrogate mother to her younger sister and distanced herself from any normal teenage interests.

Apparently his wife had been murdered in front of the younger daughter when she was about 4. We never heard the details and after revealing that little piece of information, the subject was not spoken about again for fear of further traumatising the little girl.

He wanted to buy ‘Kim’ and spent lots of time talking in French with Mum and Dad.
We thought that he was really strange and once I saw him kissing his ‘daughter’ in a way that fathers don’t. As kids we were not privy to these discussions about the sale of ‘Kim’, but we just knew that he was strange and he gave me the creeps.

We took him sailing and my parents finalised the deal with him with a promissory note for the final payment.
Off he sailed on our beloved boat with his kids and a local crewmember to help him.

Then Dad realised that JC had conned him. If memory serves me right, the wads of cash that were counted together contained a number of notes that were folded in half. $8,000 worth. I can’t fill in the gaps but as a result Dad went off up Islands on a friends boat to find him.

We heard through the grapevine that JC did not have a clue about sailing. We heard that he had tightened the leeward stays because he saw that they were loose when sailing hard to windward. We heard that he nearly sank ‘Kim’ as a result and had put out a mayday call whilst enroute to Martinique. He got towed in and ran up a bill for repairs, then left in the middle of the night without paying his bills.

Dad caught up with him in Dominica and employed the services of a local lawyer to slap a writ on the mast preventing JC and ‘Kim’ from leaving the Island. (The local lawyer was Mary Eugenia Charles, who a year later became the prime minister of the Island until her death last year).

Then disaster struck.

It was hurricane season, and Hurricane David was building to be a big one out in the Atlantic.

Dominica had a lack of ‘hurricane holes’, which are natural safe havens for yachts in the path of hurricanes. When it was obvious that Dominica was in the path of ‘David’, Dad asked the authorities if he could move ‘Kim’ to a safe place, to protect her from the fury of wind and sea. The authorities refused, citing that the writ on the mast did not allow for any movement. Dad lay as many anchors as he could, but he knew then that for ‘Kim’ the chances of surviving such a hurricane, the likes of which Dominica had not seen since the fifties, were slim. As the hurricane approached and increased in strength and fury, he warned the hotels along the shoreline to board their windows and to protect their guests. Complacency reigned and the hoteliers ignored the ramblings of just a sailor.

Dad later described the experience as the most frightening and traumatising one that he had ever lived through. He hid in a stand-up refrigerator, (switched off), with the door slammed shut. The winds flung it around and tore off the door. He was lucky to survive.
Afterwards he made his way through the rubble to the shore, noticing that all the hotels were completely ruined. Devastation was evident wherever he looked. The corrugated iron roofs of houses had been ripped off and sliced through anything in their path, including palm trees.

He wandered along the beach in a daze. Of course there was no sign of any boat afloat in the anchorage. As he stumbled through the wreckage along the shore he recognised pieces of ‘Kim’. Mahogany planks that he had shaped himself, lay splintered and piled up amongst other debris. A bit of the ‘Baby Blake’ toilet that had been his and Mums loo next to the aft cabin on ‘Kim’ lay with jagged edges amongst the rubble. He even found the 7ton piece of lead from her keel washed up on that shore. I can only imagine the grief that he must have felt, amongst all the other emotions of loss and regret.

Meanwhile we were staying in an old house in Grenada that belonged to an artist friend. Communication was difficult in those days, and after not hearing from Dad for a few weeks prior to the hurricane, Mum decided to leave us in the old house, and sail up Islands with a dear friend of ours on his small boat. As the hurricane approached us kids were very worried that either one of our parents could be caught up in it and killed. It was a real possibility.

We were caught in the periphery of the force of the hurricane, with strong winds and torrential rain.

Apparently Mum was on her way back from Dominica when the hurricane struck and was in fact holed up in Carriacou, the island just to the North of Grenada.

We did not know that at the time and for a couple of days after the hurricane we heard nothing at all. We could only carry on fending for ourselves and quite capably I may add, Mum had left us sufficient funds to provide for our needs, and we were quite independent by then anyway.

We hung around the marina and yacht club, anxiously asking arriving yachtsmen for any news of our parents.

Then Mum arrived at last. What a relief it was to see her again, though tempered with yet more anxiety for news of Dad, who we knew was in Dominica when the hurricane struck. For all we knew he could have been killed.

We did not hear from him for another week. Apparently it took him that long to gather his belongings and walk to the airport and await the repair of the communication systems. The walk to the airport was a trial in itself.

It may be difficult for anyone other than a cruising sailor to understand the sense of loss that even now, our family feels when we talk of what happened and about the loss of ‘Kim’ in such a way. We had hoped that she would sail for many years, and be lovingly looked after and appreciated by anyone who owned her after us, as we had done during our 9 years aboard her. We were so proud to have had the time we did on her. She was so elegant and graceful under sail and every labour was carried out with pride.

R.I.P Kim……..

Orel Lake, BC

2006-09-30T15:24:00.000+01:00

So this is where we would head for. This is where my brother lives, and the other visits for several months a year, and of course Mum, who is there now.

The road itself winds its way from the main island highway, (to Campbell River and Comox/Courtney), along a windy 17-20km route to a dead end about 1km further than this view.

Along the way are large plots with individual houses on, and a few farms too. Some of the houses are hidden from view by trees. Some plots remain undeveloped, some are mobile homes and some areas are still forestry owned forest land.

My brothers plots/homes overlook the first two fields towards the farm on the far side of the second couple of fields.

They are hidden from view somewhere under all those trees at the narrow end of the lake on the other side of the road.

Bears, deer, rabbits visit the fields, and bald eagles have an eerie at the top of a tree on the other side of the first one. The hedge between the two fields sort of marks the boundary between the two plots of land.

Orel lake itself belongs to the Nature trust of British Columbia, and is a rearing habitat for Coho Salmon, which pass up and down the stream/river that runs through Graham and Petes property.
Beavers have a dam on the lake and can be seen swimming across it.

Beautiful isn't it? Yes yes, I know it will be all white-covered in Winter, with foul winds and snowstorms and icy roads, but the winters are not as extreme as on the East coast, and we'd deal with it. The sea and log-strewn beaches are a 20 minute drive away with stunning views of snow-capped mountains on mainland BC.

So far though, pipe-dreams and determination fuel the faith that drives me to find the way to make it happen.

The first rung on the ladder

2006-09-28T18:00:00.000+01:00

Better spend a bit of time here too. I have been spending so much time on the internet researching Visas and work permits, jobs and schools, real estate, driving licences, shipping costs and exporting a V8 trike, vehicles and vehicle insurance, (we'd have to start again with the no-claims bonuses, as if we were beginers), SINs, (Social insurance number card?), healthcare, opening a bank account, earning a credit rating, reading local newspapers on-line, reading of others experiences, BC stastics, local activities and lots of other things besides.
I even started completing an on-line resume, (CV). Then I got stuck with all sorts of details that need to be expressed using Canadian terminology. I need help from my sister-in-law me thinks.
Also job listing titles can sound like gobbledegook, and often salaries are listed by an hourly rate, if at all. Companies don't want to know what sex you are or what marital status you have when completing the application, and it's against the law for them to ask. Mind you I've never had to complete a CV.
My sister-in-law has emailed me to say that they are willing to do whatever it takes to help us get there, and after next week, she will have a 'bit' more time to look into things from her end.

Other news, well our porch has finally been rendered and I am now able to get down, (up), to painting the front of the house and porch. As I prepared my 'tools' and set up my ladder, I reflected on the recent accident of a 'blogmate', who set off up a ladder to the eaves and fell off whilst up there, could have been worse but got covered in bruises and nearly put a permanent stop to any future chance of copulation. I thought seriously about my safety as I selected a metal double extension ladder (with no missing rungs) out of our choice of several. I found a board to put on the lawn under the legs of the ladder for stability and the ladder was at the correct angle for the height, ( I think it's 1m out for every 3m up, it just looked and felt right). I tested the stability by standing on the bottom rung and ensuring that both legs were flat against the wall and board, even making sure that the friction feet were level on the board. I dug out the 'ladder table' that hangs over the rungs to put my pot on. Once up there I maintained 3 points of contact at all times, ( two hands and a foot or one hand and two feet). What else? Oh yes, I wore shoes and not sandels, ( it was hot too), and overalls. The only thing I didn't do was tell anyone that I was up there because there was no-one to tell, to my advantage really because no-one around to distract me.
A few hours later and no dinner for the kids, I got the job done. It was very unsatisfying visually because it was the clear sealer coat. Only two coats of white and three coats of Spanish yellow to go!
Seriously though, I am grateful for my blogmates posting because as a result of his posting, I thought more about my safety up there. I do hope he is okay and is at least enjoying a few days off to recuperate.

Britishexpats.com

2006-09-23T19:46:00.000+01:00

A Trike-owning friend of Gmans is moving to Australia within a couple of months and recommended this site for useful info.

I have been excited, depressed, enthusiastic, worried and insecure as a result ever since, and totally hooked on searching the site for relevant information on the process of immigrating to Canada and how it is or was for others.

Ho-hum, I wonder how the weather will be for another boot fair tomorrow......

Why Canada?

2006-09-20T12:37:00.000+01:00

It seems appropriate here to explain why Canada holds such a pull for me in light of recent plans, though many words will be needed.

Back in the late 70s’ Mum and Dad decided to move on from the Caribbean. They wanted us to settle somewhere with life experiences and career opportunities for us kids other than sailing.

They researched immigrating to New Zealand for a while and talked about sailing across the Pacific to NZ. Then they found out that we would have to pay some incredible amount of money in duty, that they couldn’t possibly afford, in order to stay there having sailed in to the country on ‘Kim’.

So there was a change of plan and we were going to sail up the West coast of the USA to British Columbia.

After further discussions they decided that ‘Kim’ just wasn’t up to the windward slog up that west coast because she was a 1940s’ built wooden yawl, and leaked like a sieve, just managing to cope with the sailing that we were doing in the Caribbean.

So, we sold her, (that is another saga), and the plan was to fly to Florida, buy a motor home, and drive across to the west coast of the USA and up to British Columbia.

A few Sagas later and we did all end up in BC, on Vancouver Island. My parents intentions were to apply for immigrants status from within whilst living in the motor home in a trailer park. I flew up from Florida to meet them in December, and having never encountered snow, arrived to 3’ of it.

I remember the crisp, cold mornings and trudging through heaps of snow. I remember going by bus to Camosun College where I took evening classes in Book-keeping and typing through the winter months, (a lot of good that did me, I am a two finger typist now and have never worked as a book-keeper). I remember the hot summer and travelling from provincial park to logging campsite all the way up to Campbell River and across to the west coast. I remember the ‘free’ sites on the lakeside at Strathcona, in the days when we would be the only campers there.

We all loved Canada, what we’d seen of it, and couldn’t imagine having to leave. We adapted to the change in climate from the heat of the Caribbean to the cooler summer and freezing winter.

I got a Canadian boyfriend and soon went off to mainland BC and up to his hometown, Prince George with him to visit family. Then he got a job at the pulp and paper mill in the coastal town of Powell River so we lived there for a while.

I wasn’t allowed to work in Canada, due to the family status as visitors, so I took a voluntary job at a local hospital, helping to care for a 17 yr old girl in a vegetative state. I used to feed her and tend to her needs for a few hours a day. Her parents didn’t visit her.

My boyfriend and I got engaged. I was so happy I was sure it was love

In October 1980 I persuaded Dad to take me back to the UK with him to help him sort out and decorate the house that they owned in Streatham, London, with sitting tenants occupying the flats, that were paying rents that were frozen in 1971.

My last and only visit to England since leaving at the age of 5 was for 9 months in 1971, and I was desperately curious to see the country that we were from through the eyes of a 17 yr old. I dreamt of seeing Big Ben and the river Thames, and red post and telephone boxes, and red double-decker buses, (though I did see a few in Victoria used as tourist buses), places that I only seen on postcards and in books. I wanted to spend time with Dad, because I had let him down badly (in yet another saga), and wanted to make it up to him by proving myself to him in some way. I also wanted to spend time with my grandmother, and other relatives and family friends, and to generally experience the place of my birth. I didn’t doubt that my life would be spent living and working in British Columbia, and that this was just a few months visit, combined with helping Dad with the decoration of the flats in preparation for selling prior to returning to Canada..

Within a month of returning to England I realised that I wasn’t in love with my boyfriend and rang him to break the news that I couldn’t marry him because I didn’t love him and that if I married him then it would be more because I would then be accepted into Canada without doubt. I couldn’t do that to him or myself.

He was devastated.

Dad then dropped a bombshell by explaining to me that I was now old enough to find my own way in life, that I was making decisions on my own now and taking charge of my own life, as a result, although he would pay for me to return to Canada, he could no longer support me within the family.

I could only work legally in England so I had to find a job before Dad returned to Canada after the sale of the flats in the house.

I stayed in England, got the job (that I still do now), and flew out for my first return visit to Vancouver Island for 6 weeks in 1984. We spent the summer exploring and revisiting campsites and visiting my brother Graham at Stathcona Park where he was a volunteer teaching kids how to kayak and sail.

Then Mum and Dad had to leave Canada because their status expired. Graham was okay because he was a volunteer, by this time he was teaching white-water rafting to kids in Ottawa but Pete left too. He went cruising in the Med and eventually settled in England for a few years, though he too, longed to return to Canada.

Mum and Dad decided to buy another boat and cruise the Med again, revisiting the countries last explored between ‘68-’70.

For 10 years I spent my holidays visiting them on the boat wherever they happened to be, Majorca and various parts of Greece and Turkey. We had fantastic holidays spent cruising and anchoring in out of the way places that the flotillas didn’t get to.

During these years Graham stayed in Canada and eventually was successful in gaining permanent residence under his own steam. It suited the way that he wanted to live and he couldn't imagine settling anywhere else.

Then I met Gadgetman, and after a final trip out to visit my parents, by this time in Malta and preparing to sell the boat before returning to England to ‘retire’ from sailing, we had Gadgeteen.

He was 20 months old when we first visited Canada as a family. We couldn’t really afford it but my brothers chipped in so that we could attend their weddings, which they had planned within a day of each other so that we could all be there to see them both married and meet all the families and friends.

My parents had flown out from England too, and had bought a car and tent-trailer to stay in and to use on future planned extended visits. After they left we used it to travel around and stay in, driving up to see the plot of land that Graham had bought in Black Creek, half way up the Island near Campbell River and Comox/Courtney, and drove across to the rugged spectacular west coast. Back then there were no crowds of campers pre-booking all the campsites like now. Back then we could easily camp and stroll along parts of Long Beach with huge pacific rollers sweeping the beach and surfers out playing with the breaking waves. We camped on logging sites accessed by long stretches of gravel roads used by the huge logging trucks as seen on an earlier posting here.

We spent time in Victoria too, and did the touristy stuff, though I never feel like a tourist there. I feel as if I am returning to the country that I ‘belong’ in, the lifestyle suits my spirit, even though I am not Canadian. I don’t feel that anywhere else and feel an intense sense of loss when we leave at the end of any of our 6 week visits as a family. Yes I’d miss my brothers and family, but it goes much deeper than that. There is only one country that I have wanted to live in more than anywhere else in the world, lots of places that I would visit, but Canada is it for me.

Gman fell in love with the island but said that he couldn’t think of moving away from his parents before they died.

That was that then.

We didn’t qualify to emigrate then anyway.

We have been out twice since, when Gadgeteen was 6 and Gadgetgirlie was 14 months old, then again last year.

I cried solidly for the hours return flight to Vancouver, and easily for 3 weeks afterwards following our last visit.

I so wished things could be different and that we could be living our lives there. I cried at the impossibility of my dreams and eventually just got on with reality here, looking forward to the day that I retired and could spend more time there.

So if we get through the application stage and are called for an interview, how do I explain why we want to leave our secure lives here in the suburbs of London to live in a rural area on Vancouver Island?

We would like to live in the community that my brother lives in, who no doubt, would help us to integrate, and to be around to see my nieces grow up.

We are accepted as common law partners and don’t have to be married to apply.

We would be able to buy a house with at least an acre of land for cash, so no pressure of a mortgage stretching into the years ahead.

We would like to have the outdoor opportunities available, the sailing, camping, kayaking, fishing, swimming, skiing, snowboarding and trials bike riding for Max.

The scenery is stunning, and space to live takes on a new meaning.

We would like to change the kind of pressures that we face here, the fast and stressful pace of life and feel that we could do that there.

The people that we met on the island had little of the aggressive and demanding attitude and expectations of life that so many have here. They care, and are generous with their demonstration of how they care. Of course I not referring to the many friends that we have here, I’m talking about people that we see around us, the ‘what’s in it for me’ type’, and the loutish behaviour that seems to dominate the news. I’m sure that a move to a city anywhere would be similar to living here as far as pressures of life are concerned but we know that the daily grind of work and life can be compensated for by life outside of work and I personally, would really like to make an opportunity happen so that our kids can come to know a different kind of living before this is all they know.

Gadgeteen is excited by the idea of a different life. I can see that it will be a huge adjustment for him. He is now getting used to having the freedom to go out on his own. He hangs around with his mates with their mobile phones in parks, chatting, texting other mates and sharing cigarettes and goodness knows what. Maybe they even kick a ball around or go into Kingston to hang around. I desperately want to change his expectations of how he uses his free time.
When we were staying in Macaulay Road he cycled down to the Oyster River on his own with some local lads and they spent the day swimming and playing there. Pete took him downriver for 3 hours on a double airbed, they drifted along and negotiated small rapids and bonded. Max has always wanted to go snowboarding and skiing but the cost for us to go somewhere is just too much here. There, Mount Washington is a 45 minute drive away from Macaulay Road.

Gadgetgirlie is thrilled by the idea of being near her cousins, the twins, who are only a year and a half older than her. She adapted really well to life there and was off playing by Grahams stream, (river in winter), and in the woods on the land. She loved the river and beach combing along Miracle Beach, 20 minutes away.

Both kids are confident communicators and will make friends easily, as our trips to France have shown. School buses travel the length of the road collecting and delivering the kids along the way. Schools and colleges are 45 minutes away.

Gadgetman has a lot of very practical skills that would suit the lifestyle there and enjoys working with his hands. He also has an extensive collection of tools and equipment that would benefit our lifestyle and would be an asset to the local community because of his willingness to help others. He is office bound most of the time now, in a job that the company moved him to involuntarily, so is seriously fed up with his long daily grind and longing for a change.

Both Campbell River, (pop -32,000), and Comox, (pop – 20,000), are reasonable sized towns with jobs on offer that we could do. My sister-in-law works for an employment centre that focuses on retraining opportunities for the middle and north of the island so we could get an insider view of opportunities suitable for us.

So there is my ‘Why Canada?’ for now, if you get this far down the posting. A lengthy one this time, but it also helps me to think things through.

Qualifying anxt

2006-09-18T18:38:00.000+01:00

I've been reading of other peoples experiences of immigrating to Canada to help me to understand the process. 30% of applications from the UK take up to 25 months! The rest take longer. I wonder what the statistics are on rejections, another bit of research to follow.

That's if we even qualify to apply. It seems that we are borderline on the self-assessment forms. I am compiling a list of questions to ask at the emigrate show in a couple of weeks time. I'm loathe to pay the £678 non-refundable application fee if we stand no chance of progressing to the next stage which includes requests for police checks, medicals and supporting documents.

I printed off the guidelines and application form today anyway, just to get acquainted with them. A new simplified form means that we don't have to supply any documents initially. It's only 3 pages long, thank goodness, cos we will have to fill in 4 of them.

Life goes on as usual but inside I really bubble with hundreds of possible outcomes of what we are hoping to do. One minute despondant at the thought that we can't apply for emigration to Canada and the next minute dreaming of a rural life near my brothers.

A successful bootfair yesterday in that more 'must haves' went to good homes where they'll be wanted and appreciated and our clutter decreases slowly but surely.

Another bit of news is that Gman and I start our respective french evening courses this week. We will be able to communicate more efficiently in France next year.

Telling the kids

2006-09-16T16:52:00.000+01:00

Today we had a 'family meeting'.

We told the kids about our internet research into emigrating to Canada.

My gut feeling was that they should be in on the idea early on, even if disappointment could follow. A change of life as major as this would change their future just as much as ours, as parents, more so really, cos they are still so young. Some would suggest waiting til a certain stage, but I went with that gut feeling to tell them now.

Gadgeteen said, "YEEESSS, I won't have to see Mr. Glover, (headteacher) anymore." He was unexpectedly excited at the prospect.

Gadgetgirlie said, "Oh, I won't see Rosie, (best friend), anymore." And then, "Lammie, (favourite cuddley toy), is definately coming." She then rushed out into the close and reported to anyone who would listen, that we might move to Canada.

We did emphasize that we are still just looking into the possibility and that Canada could decide that they don't want us because we don't earn enough points to pass the first test. We explained that this whole process could take 2-3 years, and that even then the government could reject us for any reason. We told them to be prepared for it not happening.

Gadgetman and I have both enrolled for evening french classes, which may help us marginally to achieve a couple of extra points, but we were going to do this anyway, after enjoying the french company this year in Brittany. We are booked for different evenings for our levels which also means that one of us will be at home for the kids.

Shared enthusiasm

2006-09-13T20:54:00.000+01:00

Gman and I find ourselves having little conversations about the possibilites in Canada and he has even been doing his own research on the net. He completed the same points test I did and found that he got 81 points instead of the 67 needed.

I like that this topic unites us with shared enthusiasm, and we are just beginning today, to share our daytime thoughts and dreams of possibilities. It's all just day-dreams and research now but it's refreshing to be planning something as big as this together. It seems to be giving us alot to talk about with each other, normally conversation centres around family and work needs, with a bit of moaning about everything chucked in, so yes, it's nice. It's making us think about things differently and with a change of enthusiasm levels.

Listen to me, the way I go on you'd think we'd got our papers already!

Where will this lead?

2006-09-11T18:28:00.000+01:00

The other night I was on the net and happened to find myself on a Canadian immigration site.

My fingers completed some general enquiry forms to see if we made the grade.

Just curious you understand.

9 points short of the required 67 points the form said.

Had a look to see if a brother could sponsor us.

Just to see.

No, Not on the sites that I found that evening. they all said child, parent, grand-parent, spouse, dependant sibling under 22 or adopted child.

Gman and I had a chat and agreed that we had complimentary skills and abilities despite our differences and that despite our conversation years ago about immigrating to Canada, when he couldn't imagine leaving his parents to go off to another country, he would now be prepared to go. We agreed that I would talk to my brother and his wife, (who is in the know about employment issues), as the next stage in general enquiries.

They rang us last night, Mum was there too. We spoke on Skype, which as many of you will know, doesn't cost a penny. They had me connected up to their stereo speakers too, and I could hear my voice echoing in the high-ceiling'd lounge with huge windows and a view through the garden to corn fields beyond, somewhere half way up Vancouver Island. They told of their force 5 sail from Vancouver to Nanaimo on Mokulana in decent weather, and the following few days sailing in the Islands with Mum, Jenny and the twins. Mum spoke of her comfort in the Dodge campervan and of enjoying herself just being around family again. Graham spoke of his sailing trip around Vancouver Island and 150 miles out to sea, with fee-paying crew who are there to learn, at various stages, including the 'off-shore' students. He spoke of heading off for another month again tomorrow. The only downside being the time away from home.

I spoke of our chat on the possibility of immigrating to Canada, and what I'd found so far. First of all as far as they know, a brother can sponsor, but we didn't discuss the implications of that further last night and secondly, there has never been a better time to go to Canada, unemployment is at a long time low, and jobs need applicants. If there are jobs with no suitable applicants from within the country then potentially companies are more likely to consider applicants from another country. Anyway, more digging to be done.

Maybe nothing will come of this but the fact that Gman is seriously thinking of giving up his job due to dissatisfaction, the realisation that I would be prepared to give my job up now,(retirement due in 9 years time), and the fact that he would now be prepared to move out there is the combination of factors that I can't seem to ignore at the moment.

I have enthused about sailing in recent months, and would dearly love to have time for sailing in my life, but the way I feel I need to prioritise means that there just isn't enough time to commit to it at the end of the day. Not now anyway.

A good sorting out

2006-09-06T18:25:00.001+01:00

I'm feeling a bit low....and when I feel low, I know I need to find something new to drive me, or a goal to aim for, something to occupy my mind/me and to work towards.
I set myself a goal earlier on this year, of de-cluttering 'must haves' from our loft and kids rooms, and haven't acheived that yet, I've just made a start. Sundays without rain will start to become less frequent from now on so I'd better get a move on and get our once-upon-a-time 'must haves' out there. There just are not enough hours in not enough weekends.

Anyway....Back to school & back to work today.
Actually, it is quite nice to be there, to have a focus other than kids, home life and the above, especially as I've sorted the stressful problem I had last term, of trying to work a full day each day and collect Gadgetgirlie and our neighbours daughter, (same class), for 3 days per week from school. It wasn't working very well and resulted in our neighbour having to do it anyway and look after GG until one of us could get home. My work have been brilliant, and let me go early when I needed to but it was all just another pressure on me and I felt that we were imposing too much on everyones goodwill. I was all set to employ a local childminder today for a couple of hours after school-care each day at £4.50 per hour, but our neighbourly-neighbour has offered to continue to collect GG, and in return Gadgetman will do the odd job for them. How generous of them and what a relief, cos money is non-existant at the moment and belts have to be tightened.

ho-hum...better go sort...

I'd like to find time to write a bit more often to but like thats going to happen.

Mum has gone to stay with my brothers on Vancouver Island for 2 months, including a few days sailing in the islands with Graham and Jenny and kids, where they are now.

I'm hoping that one of my brothers will introduce her to this site within a few days so................. 'Hi mum'!

Sunday boot fair

2006-09-03T21:45:00.000+01:00

Appearances can be deceptive

1) Gadgetman is ecstatic about getting up at 7am on a Sunday morning.

2) Everything you see is a 'must have'....but 70% of the 'must have' buyers went to another boot fair today.

3) We haven't sold Gadgetgirlie.

4) Gadgeteen is not yawning and has not got unusual legs.

Bootiful car

2006-09-02T16:23:00.000+01:00

Very windy around here today, hope it improves for the boot fair that we will be selling at tomorrow.

My new car with a bootful ready for tomorrow.

Oh phew...What a relief to have this sorted this week.
I am so skint now though because of the holiday and this car has been funded entirely by the kids child benefit accounts that we have saved in since the start, as a just-in-case emergency account, or for the kids if we managed to keep saving it until driving age.

Oh well... The car will benefit them, though Gadgeteen doesn't quite see it this way.
He thinks that I am spending his money because the account is in his name, no amount of reasoning is changing his mind and he is resentful about it.

Oh dear...Where is my friendly chatty smiley son?

Oh yes... He soon cheered up and helped to sort old toys out from his room when he realised that he would financially benefit.

Oh please...Can we have boot-fair weather tomorrow?

Flickr account

2006-08-31T15:15:00.000+01:00

I have upgraded my Flickr account and paid the $24.75 for the year. To view our photos of France, double-click on the Flickr badge in my sidebar,double-click on the France set, then click on 'view detail'. This way means that you can view my descriptions too. A slide show is also available but doesn't include the descriptions. There are two hundred and something so be warned.

France - Part 1

2006-08-29T22:22:00.000+01:00

I'm here.....Just been busy doing all the domestic stuff, downloading our three cameras worth of photos and looking for a car.

We blend in quite well don't you think? Of course it wasn't long before the parking attendants in this Portsmouth waterfront car park were sniffing around and ordering us to park in assigned bays only. They were decent enough to class the Trike and trailer as a bike and therefore exempt from parking fees though!

The Gadget summer palace. Gadgeteen lives in his own 'summer house' now, which is the grey one on the other side.

The Gadgetkids share an interest. The clumps of seaweed are evidence of how rough the sea has been at times during our stay.

Sunset at Cap Frehel with a view of 'our 'beach' below.

We get to know the french crowd, who all have a ride around the site on the Trike...and we get lots of home-made wine and invites for 'Aperitifs' in return. No-one speaks English so I have fun with my French.

Our new German friend Julia, encouraging Gadgetman and our Dutch friend to sing. She had said earlier that afternoon, "I am coming to your tent tonight with my guitar. You will sing." We did. I think this is 'Country Roads'....or it might have been 'Leaving on a jet plane'.

Preparing our hand-picked 'Moules' for dinner one evening.

Ready to roll

2006-08-05T18:04:00.000+01:00

The trailer is finally packed full of all the necessities, toys and gadgets that we could possibly hope to use, just the bikes to go on top in the morning and we're ready to roll. Just need to sort the headlight out on the Harley to avoid really pissing the french off at night.

We have this packing down to a fine art now, I'm the gatherer and he packs the trailer, and n'er the twain shall meet. It works every time, it's an advantage of having been together for over 14 years now, and it sure makes for peaceful stress-free packing.

I was going to post some pictures of today but I somehow managed to fry the memory card, so then I had to make a special trip into Kingston to get another one, better to find out now, I guess. At least I know I've got one in there, (unlike Greavsie recently), now I just have to remember to take the camera, (the card is definitely in there).

Longlegs is on his level 2 course down at SWAC this weekend. Apparently there was not much wind today and it was very hot, so the conditions didn't really test his reactions very much. Wasn't I lucky to have the wind last weekend.

Despite all my efforts at sorting this car business out, 1) I couldn't bank the cheque they sent me because it wasn't made payable to anyone, and now I won't be here to bank the replaced cheque so I won't have the just-in-case money for the holiday, and 2) The collectors of the sun-dried tomato have not turned up to collect the car as arranged, so now I have to leave the car key with a neighbour and they have to arrange for it to be collected next week.

Ho-hum...Sailing kit...check...RYA certificate...check....Planisphere...check... lots of Books....check...Harley docs...check...Scrabble...check...Body board... check...juggling stuff...check...CAMERA!...check, right then, that's it, I'm off...

The sun-dried tomato

2006-08-03T16:29:00.000+01:00

Ooops! I pranged my car last week.
Not done that before.
Hit someone up the rear on a roundabout.
Obviously my fault, but I will rant a bit. Yes, just about those plonkers that approach a roundabout, and brake correctly, no problem there, then they look to the right and on seeing that the way is clear, take their foot off the brake and move on, (as does the car in the outside lane), then suddenly decide that in fact they will wait for that car coming from the right in the distance after all, and slam on the anchors again! (The car in the outside lane carried on - there was stacks of time).
The result being that their car had minimal rear damage, and my car is an insurance write-off because it's 10 years old and the parts would cost more than the value of the car.
Thank goodness I took out comprehensive insurance and have therefore been able to have a courtesy car for 2 weeks.

Yes, they have given me a sun-dried tomato to use. Or should it be a roasted red pepper.

Sounds like a suffocated lawn-mower, really it does, but what the heck, it's only for a short time, 'cos on Sunday the Gadgets are off to Cap Frehel in Brittany for 3 weeks.

So if you see a black V8 trike towing half of a black Renault-extra van as a trailer loaded with bikes and bodyboards, and a black Harley, somewhere between London and Portsmouth on Sunday afternoon, then the chances are that it's probably us, off on our camping hols....

Laser days at Calshot

2006-07-30T22:51:00.000+01:00

I have had a fantastic time this last weekend. I've been on my residential Level 2 dinghy sailing course down at Calshot Activity Centre. The view from my room window was:

My window looked out across the entrance to Southammpton water, which is to the left of this photo. The channel was particularly busy on Friday evening because boats were making their way over to the Isle of Wight for the start of Cowes week on Saturday, for which a 1000 boats had entered. It was a lovely sunny evening and I later enjoyed sitting on the beach for a couple of hours just watching all the different types of boat pass me by.

I've spent about 5 hours each day out sailing a Laser Pico. We had anywhere between a force 1 to a 5, gusting to an occasional 6.

I was worried that my previous sailing experience would mean little in the world of dinghy sailing and this course has reassured me that I can actually sail a dinghy, and in fact, I can keep it upright too. I capsized once on Saturday whilst gybing round a buoy in a gust but on Sunday managed to stay upright in some pretty windy conditions.
The other 4 on the course consisted of a guy who did his level 1 in Greece 3 weeks ago but had never been out sailing before that, another guy who has been around boats before and did his level 1 in June, and two young women, (twins actually), who completed their level 1 last year, and have crewed on other boats since then.
The first guy had not experienced much wind before and struggled to stay upright on tacks and gybes in anything more than a force 2-3. He persevered until the 5 gusting 6, then retired to the beach.
The other guy was better, but capsized alot too. None of them were ready to hike out with bums over the edge and feet under the centre strap so in moments of need, the weight just wasn't out there.
I nearly fell over backwards into the water once when I thought my feet were under the strap and started to hike out, only to find that my feet met no resistance. I only just managed to let out the main and get my bum inboard again.
Don't get me wrong, I need lots and lots of practice before I am sailing without losing control of something, and instead, sailing efficiently. The tiller slipped out of my hands on a couple of occasions, and on a few tacks I didn't get round fast enough and had to figure out how to get the boat around onto the tack I wanted whilst moving backwards, sussed that out now.
For Sunday I bought a pair of gloves to prevent more chafing of the outside of my poor little finger on the left hand where I'd hung onto the main sheet whilst hiking out.
I loved having to anticipate and react quickly to the fluky wind. I loved the spray sent back into my face from the bow at speed. I loved being on the water and I loved being at the helm and being in the position of making decisions about my course and heading. I'm still buzzing now and look forward to getting out there again.
Oh, and I got to go rock climbing on Saturday night too, as the free evening activity. A first for me. The centre had 9 or 10 climbing walls of varying degrees of difficulty so we had fun for an hour or so, though only 2 of us had any energy left after the days sailing.
There is so much more that I could write about the weekend but I must stop somewhere and now.

Osprey delight

2006-07-27T10:39:00.000+01:00

This photo was on the Blithfield club site, and this Osprey belongs to Jon Batt. I wanted to show someone out on the wire and a spinnaker set and this is just perfect. Similar wind conditions too

A couple of posts ago I mentioned a guy (Robin) down at Shoreham sailing club who had just picked up his new Osprey. He mentioned then that he is selling his old mk lll Osprey, and having given this some thought, Longlegs arranged for us to go out for a sail on her with him last night down at the club to see how suitable she would be for us.
We arrived early to a sea so calm that not a sail was visable out there, not one, just lots of seagulls serenely afloat and a few jet skis roaring around in the distance.
I could see a bit of a localized storm on the horizon and heading our way, and I wondered whether it would bring us a breeze, lower the humidity as it passed through, and leave a bit of wind behind for us to play with.
Sure enough, a little later, I felt the draught of cooler air on my face, and dark, dark grey clouds loomed overhead angrily. Lightning flashed and thunder growled and beach folk towing towels and toys scurried off to seek shelter from the approaching rain. Torrential rain poured from above for about 20 minutes, then it was gone, leaving a little wind, not much, 8-10 kts, ('ish), maybe, but enough. The cloud-cover stayed with us and it was pleasantly cooler too.
Robin showed us the layout of the rigging and took his time to go through everything in detail.
There are just SO many lines and halyards and sheets on these performance dinghies, all in bright different colours, most cleated off somewhere in amongst all the others along the centre thwart. Just so many that I've never come across before and it would be quite a while before I knew which to reach for in an instant.
Anyway, no matter, by 7pm we were on the water in a light breeze, heading out to open sea through the harbour entrance.
Longlegs and I were crouched down either side of the centreboard casing with a jib sheet each.
The twenty or so rest of the club boats were also out for Wednesday racing, but we steered clear and went our own way. Robin had kitted us in trapeeze harnesses too, I wondered if there would be enough wind to warrant them but that just goes to show how much I have to learn about these very responsive dinghies. We flew ahead of the fleet, having started at the same time as them but off to one side.
Once outside the harbour wall the wind perked up a bit more and I got my first step-by-step lesson in getting out on the trapeze. It was great fun being at full stretch feeling the heel of the boat in response to the breeze, and adjusting my leg stretch according to the heel of her beneath me. I have not been exercising enough and I could feel my thigh muscles in particular, tauten and silently complain. Not me though, oh no, I was loving it, though inexperienced, I felt totally comfortable.
I was concentrating on all sorts of things, like not holding the wire, holding the jib sheet, keeping my back straight, keeping my forward leg straight and bending the aft leg like it was self-sprung, holding my balance and watching for dark patches of wind coming our way. Robin was a great host and comfortable to be around. For the spinnaker run he described concisely what needed doing and both Longlegs and I had turns at setting up the pole, then Robin hauled the sail up through a neat shute in the bow and we had a chance to play with the edge of the spinnaker with the sheet so that it filled properly.
It was a fantastic experience and time flew by on that downwind leg.
I asked for a go at the helm too, and had fun trying to figure out what to do with the tiller extension when going about. I'm not used to the confined quarters of an Osprey, 'Berceau' in Canada last year, had a tiller with an extension, but she was 27' with plenty of extension-swinging space to manoeuvre in.
I brought the Osprey back into the harbour and managed to find the dead space with no wind with the greatest of ease. Robin did warn me to stay near the left wall but I somehow found myself in the middle anyway. The wind was so light that we sort of glided into the shallows, and were the last boat in apart from the safety boat. To get that inflatable up the ramp, all hands were called for and about twenty of us on a long thick rope hauled her up to the top. After doing what we could to help in true learner fashion, we showered and met up in the bar with other club and committee members armed with our questions about boats and membership.
I really enjoyed the Osprey, and am so grateful to Robin for taking the time and effort to introduce us to the one that he is selling. He is going to advertise her this weekend and we really aren't ready to buy right now. I've no idea how quickly an Osprey will sell, and I don't know what this one is worth, so we will keep in touch and carry on with the research.

What a way to spend a Wednesday evening...

Harley Blast

2006-07-23T18:49:00.000+01:00

I finally get out for a ride this afternoon after a month of other priorities. For the last week it has been just too hot here anyway, even for riding. I wear leathers, jacket, gloves and boots in all weather, even though I'd love to get out there wearing alot less when the heat is extreme. My conscience won't allow me and it would be hypocritical too.

Today though, fluffy clouds and a light breeze softens the summer heat and humidity and I itch with impatient urges.

I dust her off and start her up and get her out onto the road, ready and waiting for Gadgetman to return from his bit of freedom to take over the reins.

D'ya know the sound she makes when I pull away out of the close gives me such a thrill. I open the throttle and feel the acceleration as we escape for a while out onto the open road. ahhhhh, that's better, single-carriageways wide enough for overtaking, then the dual carriageway bypass for a blat-blast up to 90(mph). Yesssss, I just love it and feel the familiar sprinkling of sparkles within me. I know that 90 isn't fast but when I'm stuck with speed restrictions and traffic, doing 50, the blast is like being unleashed from everything. Unfortunately no sooner do I open her up when I have come off the power and slow for the curves and villages of the A246.

At Newlands Corner I find this Harley V-Rod. I like the solid wheels, no chrome on them, and easier to clean.

and this Harley Night Train. I love the matt black engine casings, they don't show the dirt, a bit like having one of these modern self-cleaning ovens, you know the ones with sides that don't have to be cleaned...ever!

I sit on a bench with a space with my name on it, with my capuccino and bacon butty and chat to this guy.

I'm sure he said this bike has a 1450cc engine now, but it is shown on the site as having a 1340cc. He has changed it loads from the standard bike I see. Unusual pipes for around here, and so is the air filter. He says he trawls lots of catalogues looking for extras that take his fancy.

Another blast up the A3, 100 this time. I feel my neck muscles acutely and my chin strap pulls against my chin. My shades need re-adjusting. I watch for gaps in the middle lane of the three lanes, no chance that anyone can pull out on me then. I spy a gap and open her up a bit more. My ride is complete and I am recharged.

I've been humped

2006-07-23T14:43:00.000+01:00

This posting is long overdue, on July 10th I was humped by a rather nice chap over at Desert Odyssey and got 3 humps out of a potential 5. I’m happy with that. I am grateful for his constructive comments and appreciate the time he spent reading through it all. A very personal assessment and it gives me a boost of encouragement. Thank you Lucky.

Looks like I need to make some adjustments to my Blog and do a bit of ‘housekeeping’, not my most favourite past-time. I seem to be able to link to all of my ‘I read’ links so if there are problems linking to them, let me know and I’ll have a play around.

When the seed was sown

2006-07-22T22:07:00.000+01:00

Last night on the phone I quizzed Mum about her and Dads early days together.

I only realised later that maybe this was a bit tactless and insensitive of me so soon after Dads death, I don’t know how she mourns him, she doesn’t say. I wonder if her heart aches with sorrow and loss when she thinks too deeply about their experiences over the years together.

Mum and Dad met in 1957 whilst on a camping holiday in a Cornish field. She’d gone with a friend and her boyfriend, who had brought along one of his flatmates, who turned out to be my Dad. It was a chemistry thing, Mum said.

One day during that holiday, the two ‘couples’ hired a sailing dinghy and spent a day out on the Helford river. All novices together, and had a great time.

So there was sown the seed. Right there on that little sailing dinghy on a river in Cornwall.

3 weeks later Mum and Dad were crossing a road in Victoria. As they stood side by side on a central reservation in the middle of the road, Mum glanced over at Dad, and it dawned on her that Dad would never get around to asking her to marry him, he just didn’t have that look about him, so there and then she proposed to him. I wonder how aware of they were of their surroundings for those brief minutes on that traffic island, with busy London life flowing around and past them.

3 weeks!

On March 24th 1958, they were married in a church in Godalming, Surrey.

All within 6 months of meeting each other.

They talked of their future together and of having an interest that they could share, and continue to share with children in the years ahead. As it was, Dads life revolved around his customised Riley special, which he raced at events around the south. Mum loved skiing, she’d been to Switzerland a few times and caught the bug.

They’d got a taste of sailing whilst on holiday in Cornwall, and decided that it was something they could learn together, neither of them would have the edge of experience over the other.

Before they’d even sorted out where they were going to live, they bought a 16’ clinker-built sailing dinghy. She was kept on a mooring beneath Hammersmith Railway Bridge.

At weekends they learnt to time their sailing jaunts with the tides, occasionally having to traipse through the squelching mud of the Thames to get to or from their boat. Another time they were the wrong side of a bridge at the wrong state of the tide, and had to lower the mast to get through.

Soon they bought a trailer and took her down to the Medway and started to spend weekends exploring the river and creeks. They bought Lilos to place either side of the centreboard casing and spent nights aboard, not the most romantic of sleeping arrangements. Dad built an oak storage box to put in the bow, to keep their groceries in.

Then they towed the dinghy further afield, down to Fowey, then the next year, to Salcombe, in Devon. ‘Meg’ was lying on a mooring there. She was a pretty wooden 1904 built 21’ Bermudian sloop, and she was for sale. One day Mum and Dad were sitting in their boat at a mooring nearby. They watched a man of about 80 trying to sail ‘Meg’ off the mooring on his own, but they could see that he just wasn’t agile enough. He saw them and rowed over. He offered them a sail if they would help him as crew. Maybe he thought that he could encourage them to fall in love with ‘Meg’ if he wooed them with her sailing grace.

A couple of day cruises on her later, they made an offer to buy her. They did indeed fall in love with her. The old man accepted their offer of £450, and included in the deal was the tender, a lovely little sailing dinghy.

Their first boat, the 16’ dinghy was sold and went to live with a houseboat on The Thames, back to her roots.

So this was how it all started, where the pathway to a whole way of life began, together, as equals, on a boat, learning and exploring and growing together.

This was as far as we got last night. Mum went silent. She’d had enough interrogation for one night, and as I said, maybe it’s too soon to cause pain with those carefree early memories of fun times with Dad brought to the forefront like this.

School run

2006-07-20T15:41:00.000+01:00

Club research

2006-07-16T19:31:00.000+01:00

Today Longlegs and I spent the day together visiting the sailing clubs that we have independantly been researching on the net. Brilliant weather too and I was grateful for the air conditioning in his car.

We started the day with Sussex yacht club. The tide was still ebbing, with no water for sailing and there was little sign of life, however we did speak to a very helpful member who was doing a spot of gardening in the grounds. There were about 50 dinghies in the dinghy pound but we quickly came to the conclusion that the tide would restrict available sailing opportunities too much, and anyway, the club catered mainly for yacht racing.

Our next stop was Shoreham Shoreham sailing club. Now this had good potential. Only an hours drive from London, as opposed to Weston at an hour an a half and very friendly members who spent the time answering all our questions with enthusiasm. One guy has just collected the above Osprey from the factory yesterday and the resulting permanent ear-to-ear grin was totally understandable. He spent a good while explaining the virtues of the boat and why he thought this is a good club to join, whilst he was sorting the snagging issues on the boat prior to going out for a sail. Racing is all done outside the harbour out in the open sea about a mile off shore, shown in the photo below.

Then we headed along the south coast to Stokes Bay opposite The Isle of Wight. How crowded The Solent looked, let alone the beach. Absolutely packed with the usual beach goers and families on a hot summers day like today. The sea off the beach looked like an ants nest, and would be very exposed to the full force of the elements at other times of year. Much too big a membership for our liking, and parking the car would be costly and problematic. A member helped us willingly with our enquiries but we were put off by the huge numbers and didn't stay long. Just not the sized club that we had in mind and anyway, about a further twenty minutes drive on top of the hour and a half from home to Weston.

Our final stop of the day was back to Weston, the club I visited last Sunday. I like this club best of all for novices like us. I like the somewhat protected location, with reduced effect from the weather outside in The Solent, but with lots of potential for sailing further afield if we wanted to. I like that it has a membership of 300, instead of thousands, so is quite peaceful and tranquil in comparison to the hub-bub of Stokes Bay. I like that there are club boats available at £5 per day to try out, and lots of experienced members we could pick the brains of. I like that it's only about 5 miles from the motorway and has plenty of parking and secure boat-pound space. Membership is affordable and training courses are run during the year too. All sorts of members were ashore to answer our queries, and probably about 40 boats of varying classes were out racing too. We chatted to one of the RS400 owners in between races about why he likes this particular boat. A decent size for the tall build of Longlegs but no trapeze. Personally I reckon that we need to get out there and build with 'team' experience before thinking about any extras, which will take time and lots of days spent sailing.

I had such a good day today. I know its summer and I generally feel so much more positive about life at this time of year, but this feels like I'm starting out on something that connects me to my roots, a feeling of belonging that I have been mostly separated from through self-imposed limitations that I only now see. I have crewed on yachts throughout the years, and not even thought of dinghy sailing as an affordable option, thinking that it would not come close to the 'real' thing on larger yachts. Dinghies were a form of transport to me, a way to get ashore, a utility.

Meeting up with Longlegs may result in a friendship that develops from a shared purpose, but although I am a free spirit, I am not about to abandon my family responsibilities, so my time is divided and as hectic as ever.

We just seem to be motivating each other along this path and we'll see where it goes....

Plotting a course

2006-07-13T22:17:00.000+01:00

It's about time I posted here. Trouble is that 'other' interests are taking up all my free 'me' time and the Gadgetkids and work take up the rest.

Most of the computer based stuff I have been doing has been researching dinghy sailing, both boats and clubs. Yes I know that I haven't even done the course yet but it's not as if I don't know whether I like sailing or not so won't know if I want to take things further. I have a strong feeling that I will but reality may yet prove different so I can only go with the flow and see where it takes me.

Proper course has been a resident in my sidebar for sometime and I have vicariously enjoyed the thrill of dinghy racing and just getting out there for fun through his Blog, quite an insight into one mans passion for laser racing and all sorts of connected experiences.

Then I happened to meet an old friend that I haven't seen for a few years who whilst we were catching up on our respective lives, just happened to drop in that he had been on a few dinghy courses and wanted to get into racing a 2-crewed dinghy with a trapeze. (Actually he specifically mentioned the 505, but that is a long way off in my head. That would be like passing your bike test and going out and buying a Hyabusa or other top of the range motorbike, then racing it).

I started to think about me and sailing from a perspective that I hadn't considered before though, dinghy sailing is affordable and perhaps this will be a way to satisfy the nautical roots/urges within me, I don't know, but I am driven to find out and to enjoy the journey.

So back to the research, and as part of this, I visited Weston on Sunday, where the above photo of an RS400 was one of those racing. 28 kts of wind out there and about 20-30 club boats on the water. It was a buzz just watching and I itched to get out there too. I liked the location too, decent stretch of water with Southampton to the right and The Solent a few miles to the left.

Sailing therapy

2006-07-07T18:27:00.000+01:00

I’ve decided.

I need to go sailing.

I’m booked on a RYA level 2 dinghy sailing course at the end of the month.

Yay-bloody-yeehaaaa!

I’ll be using one of the following boats that they have available:

8 RS Fevas
4 Laser Stratos
12 Laser Picos
2 Wayfarers
2 Topper Buzz’s
2 Wayfarer Worlds
2 Dart 16 Catamarans
12 Oppies
8 Funboats

I’ve got a friend that wants to do the same course but our available dates don’t tie up so I’m off to do the course anyway…

Maybe this will settle me a bit….Maybe I’ll get hooked…...We'll see.

It will be a break away that is just for me, no family or kids, nor am I visiting anyone. Just me and a boat. Sounds theraputic.

Cloud-Blonde land

2006-07-06T08:14:00.000+01:00

I seem to be experiencing extreme emotions at the moment. Funny, I didn’t think that Dad dying was affecting me really but I have been at times elated and at others, in floods of tears, both at work and at home about all sorts of areas in my life that I normally manage to deal with.

I think a cure for my blues is…..

To go sailing.

Soon....

Maybe I live in cloud-blonde land and I'm away with the Seagulls....

Just humour me and let me go where this goes...

Gadgeteens' Week

2006-06-30T23:33:00.000+01:00

"Mum, Mr. Griffiiths rang to speak to you earlier, I’m sorry." Gadgeteen gazed glumly at me, He can do a good expressionless face.

Oh no….. I tried to read his face to assess whether the news was good or bad, and waited for more. He looked at me, but then his mouth quivered, and broke into a smile. He couldn’t do it.

"Oh…I can’t not smile....You thought I was in trouble didn’t you?.... Only joking Mum....He said I done good."

Phew, it was good news, though I was quite prepared to sit and talk through whatever ‘trouble’ was in a calm collected way. I am finding that get more out of him like that. No attack action so no need for a defensive reaction.

"Yeah, he said well done, and that I went to all my classes, and I did all the work in Spanish and got all the words right, and Miss Cahil was very pleased with me."

I smiled back at him and we had a hug.

"Cool, well done, I’m dead proud of you. How does that feel then?" I said.

"yeah, good."

I must say that he has been putting in the effort at home too, biting his tongue, making me coffee, and volunteering to do little things to help us.

I have been praising him to acknowledge all these nice little things.

I watched him kick a football against the garage wall in the garden the other day. Kick, bounce, catch… kick, bounce, catch, over and over again. 45 minutes of continuous kicking of ball against wall, watching the bounce, and reaching out with his arms to catch the ball as it bounced away from the wall.

He does have the ability to focus. I wondered what he thought about whilst he was doing it. I’ve not seen him do that before. Every now and the he would catch me watching him and we’d smile at each other.

I told Gadgetman what I’d been watching and asked him to look too. Just then the ball splashed into the fishpond, scattering seven goldfish suffering heart attacks.

Gadgetman started to go out to investigate the matter of the ball in the pond. Oh no, I foresaw potential change. I gestured quietly at him to come back.

"Let’s ignore it, let’s just leave him to it. He’s happy and focused for now. Ignore the ball bouncing off the windows. It doesn't happen often and he doesn't mean to. He just wants to kick, bounce and catch that ball." Gadgetman nodded and agreed.

When Gadgeteen eventually stopped he was soaking with sweat, well out of breath and very thirsty. He looked pleased with himself.

“How long was I doing that Mum? Thanks Mum.” He downed the glass of cold water that I handed to him.

"Really good focus Gadgeteen, 45 minutes, and…”

I grinned at him.

"If you can focus so well on the kick, bounce, catch for that long, then just imagine what would happen if….."

"Yeah I know Mum." He grinned at me. "I could do the same with all my subjects."

"And how long is each subject? 45 minutes? Yeah you can do that." I grinned back.

He hurrumphed at me.

We had a laugh.

His own agenda

2006-06-28T17:44:00.000+01:00

So what do I do about Gadgeteen? No improvement to report, only more calls to attend his school and more detentions for him, as well as an external exclusion next week. (For those like myself before it was relevant, an external exclusion means that he is not allowed to school for a day, penance for being caught smoking on school grounds and bunking off lessons that he doesn't like).

I’m so scared that he is starting a slippery slope to expulsion, referral units, and special schools for 'out-of-control' teenagers. He just doesn't seem to care about anything at the moment and is heading for expulsion if he does not buck up his ideas. He disappears off site at school to avoid subjects that he doesn't want to attend, hides in the bushes and smokes, (Yes, I know that many of us did something similar too, but did we get caught as regularly?), draws all over his arms, has scratched a cross onto one of his arms, cut about 20 thorn-bush-type scratches onto the top of his forearm, is aggressive and abusive if he doesn’t get his way, doesn't enjoy learning, and although he does his homework sometimes-he won't bring it home for us to see, is disruptive in class, doesn't care about the added pressure that his behaviour and consequences have upon us as working parents, and generally seems to just run by his own agenda regardless of anyone else.

Now we have been advised by the school to take him to the doctor for 'tests', and a referral to the local young persons social work team and an educational psychologist.

Oh help! I am scared now, scared that I have inadvertently failed in my role as a mother because of the morals and behaviour that he is displaying. It's as if our values and influences have somehow been re-interpreted by him.

Many parents would condemn/blame me/us and judge us by our sons’ behaviour unless they have had a similar experience and I would value any tips going. I have bought and read ‘Whatever’ - A down-to-earth guide to parenting teenagers (by Gill Hines and Alison Baverstock), from cover to cover and taken some tips on board, but I think I need to read it at least 9 more times for it all to sink in.

Now of course, as well as trying to fit in the demands of a full days work, we have to use part of our annual holidays, which we have already allocated for different periods during the year, (like Greavsie), in order to sort out Gadgeteens rebellion, not for a physical sickness that of course I wouldn't hesitate for, but because of his behaviour.

A part of me resents that. Both Gadgetman and I are under extra pressures at work due to certain obligations at the moment anyway. Does it really sound selfish to resent having to do that when his actions have affected our quality time off together as a family?

I know that Gadgetman has coped really well in my absence, the 10 days spent with my mother, during which he had to deal with work and a busy home life with the kids activities, when there are two of us around, all on his own and I had so hoped that Gadgeteen would be as helpful and co-operative as possible during these extenuating circumstances.

On the other hand, I am at my wits ends; I really don't know what to do to help him get back to caring about his future.

I read back through this and think that it sounds like I'm over-re-acting, that I really have few problems with him and I know that many parents go through this, and get to the other side, but how? I can't help but think,"Oh help!" *Gulp*

The school expects certain standards of behaviour from him, (and so do we), that he is not complying with and I am scared that he will use up all his chances at school.

We have denied him ‘privileges’, and his freedom has been restricted in that we take and collect him from school and other activities that haven’t yet been denied him, we've stopped him using MSN and confiscated his phone whilst he's at home, but we’re running out of options here. We are both investing so much time daily talking with him, listening to him, (reflective of course), comforting him as he cries with despair, praising him for the little things that he does to try and make amends, (liking making me a coffee earlier and clearing the dinner table voluntarily), and generally being as supportive as we can but still enforcing certain boundaries.

I know that I am not a perfect mum, I have my own issues of ‘ free-spiritedness’, that include ‘itchy feet’ and I am a smoker, those are my two big sins, I suppose, but I believed that as parents to our kids we’re a team and we've stuck together, and done the best we can to set them out on a path as balanced individuals.

"Enough, enough already!" I hear you cry. It's not like you to write such a lengthy moaning/downbeat rant."

Yeah, I'm a wee bit down at the moment, and I was before Dads death, so it's not connected, but I just can't write about the more personal feelings here, though I wish I could sometimes.

I haven’t got much time for Blogging at the moment, it’s all I can do to write this, read a couple, and comment here and there. (I’m lurking though).

Dads death

2006-06-25T22:08:00.000+01:00

I always wondered how I would deal with my fathers death. Would I be able to be strong for mum or would I be a blubbering mess? Would I burst into tears at the slightest memory of him or could I cope with seeing his slippers still under his bed? I wondered the same about mum, and my brothers over in Canada. How would we feel?

We all knew that his days were numbered and even thought he was going to die a few years ago, when he had a spell in hospital so we've had time to say all the personal things that we wanted to say several times over. My brothers were over at Christmas specifically because they thought it would be his last, and I was down just a couple of weeks before his death.

My last words to him on that visit were, "I love you Dad," I stroked his face and smiled at him, and he gave his best shot at a smile back and his body shook with emotion that he couldn't express any other way.

For me, that was the perfect way to say good-bye to my father.

When Mum phoned the news through, she was calm and pragmatic. She said that she had been reading to him late at night, when his breathing slowed more than usual. She continued to read, though aware of every breath he took. Eventually he just stopped breathing. She carried on reading out loud, of the adventures of a couple crossing the Sahara on camel back.

She had nearly finished the book, and.apparently hearing is the last sense to fade so she continued for a while. Then she went to bed. She was up again at five, but didn't want to disturb anyone at that hour, so she carried on reading the last chapter of the book to him and eventually rang me when she knew I would be up.

He died just as she, (and Dad), had planned and hoped for, at home, with her at his bedside, and even better, whilst she was reading to him.

A perfect way to go. No fuss nor struggle for another breath.

My Dad didn't want any fuss over a funeral but Mum decided on a Woodland burial after reading about them in Saga magazine. She liked the idea of him buried in a Somerset willow casket with a tree of her choice planted next to him, and didn’t want any kind of religious ceremony.

The day was lovely. A few close friends and family in a grove of various young trees, on a rolling hill with warm-but-not-too-hot weather, out in the countryside, within site of the sea and with a serene and peaceful aura.

We all spoke of my Dad, and even had a few laughs at some of the memories, such as his love of Cornflakes and his enjoyment of sunbathing. Mum read out some poems, a Louis Macneice, one by Emily Bronte, and a fun Joyce Grenfell poem.

Just perfect.

I do not mourn the death of my Dad with a sad heart. My love for him will never change. I am proud that he was my father and so fortunate that in living his dream with Mum he provided a life for us that for most, will always remain just that, a dream.

Dad has died

2006-06-19T13:22:00.000+01:00

Apologies to anyone who comes to read my site regularly but I have not had access to a computer with Internet access.

My Dad died last Wednesday so I have been staying with mum. We have been coping fine because it's been a long time coming and a relief that he suffers no more. Nonetheless still an emotional time of practical issues, driving mum around, and being there for her in an otherwise empty house. We have been organising a woodland burial for him at Cleeve Priory, near Minehead, which is this coming Friday.

I am just back for a day or two for one reason....

It's parents evening at Gadgeteens school and he is in a land of not caring about school at the moment. The head teacher is worried and we have a meeting this afternoon prior to seeing his teachers individually.

Bequian home grown

2006-06-08T15:03:00.000+01:00

“So where exactly do we find these little mushrooms then?” I asked my friend-in-the-know, Mark, one tropical day.

“Just head out of the town. (Port Elizabeth), towards Spring Bay, keep walking until you come to a field with loads of cows in it, and that’s where you’ll find them, loads of them, everywhere.”

“How will we know which ones they are?” I didn’t want to eat the wrong types.

“They’ll be the only ones growing out of the cowpats. It's worth it though," he said with a wicked grin.

I stored this juicy bit of info until eventually yonks later, (when I was about 13 and Pete was 10), we did get to Bequia, and as luck would have it, I spotted my friend-in the-know-Mark in top corner of the anchorage on his pretty little boat too. I really liked this guy but my parents didn't, not a good influence, they said. My little brother Pete, (usually my partner in crime), and I lost no time in meeting up with him for a trip out to the field…

I vaguely remember the walk out there, along a gravelled road with many potholes, past a large school, houses, then fewer houses, up into the hillier terrain, and finally the field. It was big enough for us and the cows, and they were far too busy chewing the cud to be interested in us and they obviously ate a lot. Cowpats were splatted everywhere and on the slightly dried out ones sprouted pointed little mushrooms with dark undersides and long stems. Careful picking was advisable and once we pinched off the ends with the cow pooh on them, we were munching away. It started raining, refreshing in the tropics, so we weren’t deterred and kept downing these mushrooms in the pouring rain.

We started off counting but gave up after a while…

They tasted earthy but hey, at least they didn't taste of pooh. We wandered from pat to pat, keeping a watchful eye on the cows and having a laugh, Pete and Mark got the giggles and set me off. Then...um...well then...oh sod it....
Basically, then there’s a gap in my memory, and I next remember experiencing a weird feeling whilst walking back down the road, as if I was walking on a cloud but my legs seemed to belong to someone else. I could see my legs doing the walking but I was sure they weren’t a part of me. School was letting out as we passed and that was hilariously funny. Kids doing normal things, whilst we walked along amongst them stoned out of our brains and giggling stupidly in our own world.
We slumped in a tree on great lounging branches, on the waterfront, and watched life pass us by, too out-of-it to move any further and too stoned to go back to the boat anyway.

There’s another huge gap in my memory….

By dinnertime we had to return to the boat, I was meant to be cooking dinner. (Mum and Graham were on a visit to England). I managed beans on toast, though what Dad must have thought of our behaviour, I just don’t know. We giggled every time we looked at each other and avoided Dad for the rest of the evening.

Never been the same since, some would say.

Lovely old job

2006-06-04T11:03:00.000+01:00

I Spent the day with Met police traffic officers on Friday. Booked myself on a Bike Safe day to have my riding skills observed by those whose assessment I would respect. There were 7 of us, including Fazerman and we met at ‘The Warren’ near Bromley, in Kent, about 25 miles from home.
What a really informative, fun and well-organised day. We started with coffee/tea & biccies in a conference room, and were shown a powerpoint presentation with a talk on the major causes of bike accidents, positioning on the road for the best view ahead, how to anticipate potential hazards, filtering wide to have a better chance of being seen, optimum positions for cornering, road surfaces, general awareness and loads of other stuff too. The facilitating officers were really good at putting us at our ease so that we had lots of laughs along the way. We needed to forget that they were police officers in a way, and just think of them as experienced bike riders who had vast knowledge that we could benefit from.
After the talk we got paired up in groups with the traffic officers who were in uniform, and on police bikes, though being the only one on a Harley I was taken out on my own by two officers, (one of whom was learning the ropes and routes), and we were off for the morning ride. I’d ticked on my form that most of my riding was done outside of towns, so I was taken down into Orpington for a ride through the high street, which was slow moving and required constant smooth clutch, brake & balance adjustments, as well as acute all round observation of potential hazards. Knowing that my skills were being assessed resulted in a few nerves too, and because they were behind me I wasn’t riding my usual position on the open roads, I was riding as if I was part of a convoy.

On our return we had a debrief, my assessor, (Nick Brown), said, “Your experience showed as soon as we rode out of here, I can see that you are really comfortable with your bike, great ride, fantastic, lovely old job" - (one of his favourite phrases). Wow, how encouraging is that! The only thing he added was that during the afternoon ride he wanted me to concentrate on optimum road positioning for the view ahead.
One guy didn’t make it back, took a corner too wide and came off, wrecked his bike but was not injured. Apparently it was the 4th time off the same bike in 18 months. He was used to old British bikes and the Jap bike was too differently powered for his experience of riding.

Buffet lunch was included in the price of £30, and we chatted bikes as we munched through the feast provided, then off we rode for the 2hour country ride. I was paired up with the only other female and we headed out to Westerham and on to Ide Hill, lovely lanes with great windy hilly roads requiring full-on concentration. I found that I could forget about who was behind me, and just think about my positioning for cornering and best view ahead. It was fantastic, such a buzz. I missed a couple of over-taking opportunities through over-caution on unfamiliar roads, but made up for it on others, so I returned on a high for our debrief back at The Warren. My assessor asked if I noticed the difference now that I was positioning for the wider view. I had felt liberated from the responsibility of bothering about the bikes behind me and just got on with my ride, so yes, I sure noticed the difference. The traffic officer that was learning the ropes then took my bike out for a spin, he’d never ridden a Harley before. He came back with a big grin actually.

For me the day was well worth it, my skills as a rider have been honed by the experience and as my assessor said, “You never stop learning.”

I’m looking at an advanced riders course now, lots of opportunities for day rides out in different counties with good riders, then I’ll be entitled to an insurance discount too. Lovely old job.

Visit to Mum & Dad

2006-06-03T19:06:00.000+01:00

Mum comes out to meet me as I arrive, “Oh good, I’m so glad you’re here, John has fallen out of bed and the doctor is here checking him over”.

Oh poor dad, he is so defenceless and dependent on mum for his every need. There he lies on the floor below the installed adjustable hospital bed in the living room. His body racks with dry sobs as he sees me.
The doctor reports that no bones are broken. Dad can’t speak now. His throat, mouth and tongue paralysed by one of the many strokes that he has had over the last 10 years and he is also paralysed down one side of his body from others and struggles to move any limb efficiently.
His sight is poor, caused by earlier detached retinas, and he has huge red and purple bruises all over his arms and hands where his veins have ruptured and the thinned blood has oozed out and settled just under his thin skin.
He communicates by occasional whispers of mumbled words that I rarely decipher. I see his long bare legs for the first time in years. They are skin and bones.
I caress his clammy and cold forehead and kiss his cheeks, as a parent would comfort a child. I hold his hand in mine and whisper words of comfort.
What words of comfort can I offer though? “No broken bones then” are the first, then I joke about needing ‘leecloths’ for his bed now, (these stop you rolling out of your bunk at sea).
He smiles as he gazes up at me.
A million memories of dad flash through my thoughts. Dad with his pipe, dad striding down the dock, dad sitting at the helm of ‘Kim’, dad huggin me when ‘Picket’ sorted my foot out, dad showing me how a sextant works, dads brown back glistening as he worked in the heat of the day on ‘Kim’, dad helping me with my maths homework, and endless more flashes of memories.
I wonder if he thinks he’s had a good life, I wonder if he has achieved all that he wanted and reflects with pride on a life lived fully.

An ambulance arrived and carted him off to hospital because his pulse and blood pressure were low. Both mum and dad have been struck down with a virus and he was left very dehydrated as a result.
Eventually he was returned to us at 130 am. When I asked the A & E doctor why he was being discharged at that time of the morning he replied, “Well can you tell me where I could find a bed to put him in?”

Wednesday is mums day off and Sam, a paid carer tends to dad for the day whilst Mum, her friend Sheila and I visit Tyntesfield House . We enjoyed the gardens and the guided tour of the house in the afternoon. What a chance to have a day out without the gadgetkids telling me how much they would rather be doing something else and when can they have an icecream!

Off to visit Mum & Dad

2006-05-30T11:59:00.000+01:00

I'm away to Banwell for a couple of days....and I shall enjoy singing to 'Joni Mitchell' and 'Neil Diamond' along the way & back....on my own...no Gadgetgirlie to tell me to stop singing this time.
Gadgetman will have the peace and quiet of home and will have full control of the remote...No, just kidding, he'll probably get stuck in to all sorts of jobs whilst he has the chance..
The Gadgetkids return on Saturday. Teen has been 'borrowed' by the family of 'his mate' and is in France & Girlie is at her first cub camp.

Only dented pride

2006-05-29T23:47:00.000+01:00

T’was nice weather on Sunday, Fazerman had a ride planned for us so he led for a change and I was happy to follow. We explored roads west of London this time and headed out on the A30 to Basingstoke, then meandered towards Reading, before heading back to Newlands Corner for a quick cuppa prior to heading for our respective homes.

Along the way Fazerman led me on mystery tours off the main route, through places we didn’t know existed and probably couldn’t find again.

I managed to drop my bike during one of our many ‘u’ turns. Or should I say, ‘lowered’ it gently when I realised that I wasn’t able to hold her up. I got my leg out of the way and used it as a support to ease the speed of the ‘drop’ but just couldn’t get her vertical in time with full lock on. No point in going into details but my pride was the main part damaged, with a scratched rear indicator and front brake lever the only visible reminders.

I learnt that:
· I must always ‘straighten up’ before stopping, instead of only 99% of the time.
· ‘Lowering’ gently is the preferred option in these circumstances.
· Absolutely no fuel leaked out and she started again without a fuss.
· There is a way to avoid scratches or damage to the actual paintwork.
· I cannot lift the bike up on my own. (255kg/562lbs so hardly surprising really).
. Dented pride is all that comes to those that fall in slow motion.

A wreck in my life

2006-05-27T12:37:00.000+01:00

This is Riduna III. She was our only home from when we left England in 1968, until 1972 in Grenada by which time Pete, who was 18 months when we left, outgrew his sleeping space, an adapted cupboard below one of the fo'csle bunks, and there was no other space suitable for him. We sold her to someone in the Islands and she eventually changed hands several times before she ended up in Bequia, long after we left the Caribbean in 1979. She was repainted and owned by a local resident who raced her in island races. She was not designed for racing, she was designed to cope with the North sea, a Clive Mort design based on a Colin Archer, using the basic shape of the North sea lifeboats of 1925, tough old girls that ventured out in the worst of weather to save vicims of the sea.

Years later my brother, Pete returned to Bequia on a bare-boat charter and found Riduna III, up on the beach and in an irreversible condition. He spent time with her owner, Hodge Taylor, someone we’d known during our years there, and caught up with Ridunas life during the years following our departure.

Petes account, which I can't seem to link to but is on the 'Pete the nomad' site in my side bar, under the 'Pete the Nomad' choice of his 3 sites, then 'Stories', then 'RIP Riduna III', still brings a tear to my eye, and dad still treasures his memento. (Sorry, I've tried and tried and couldn't get the link to work direct to the page).

It may be difficult to imagine that a boat can evoke such strong emotions and I can't imagine feeling the same way about a house. A house can be replaced with bricks and mortar. There will never be another Riduna III and no-one else will ever have the pleasure of sailing her. We would have all preferred to think of her carrying on afloat, enjoyed by another enthusiast on further voyages. Our boats were a part of us, an integral part of our cruising lifestyle, and we believed that if you look after a boat than she will look after you. A racing life just pushed her too far.

I'm off to visit Mum and Dad this coming week whilst the Gadgetkids are away on their respective activities and I hope to spend some time taking notes of our life on Riduna III. Most of my own memories are of the Caribbean and on Kim, rather than the Med and Atlantic crossing.

Boat on a reef

2006-05-25T10:36:00.000+01:00

There was once a pretty little boat that had caught my eye. I’d seen her in Grenada for a few months, nothing like this one featured here, but the picture tells the same sad story. She was gorgeous, had lovely lines, a wooden yawl like ours and from the same American era of wooden yacht design. She needed some care in the way of varnishing and paintwork but she was lovely all the same. At the time I thought that one day, I would love to own a boat just like her.

A few months later I sailed up Islands on another boat and was sitting in the cockpit when the same boat passed by heading for an anchorage inside a dog-leg reef that could be seen from where we were anchored, about a mile away. I watched this graceful boat sail out, admiring her new varnished and painted woodwork.

Such a pretty boat.

I watched as she approached the unmarked channel for the other anchorage, oh so pretty under sail. Then I watched as she suddenly came to an abrupt halt and there was fevered activity on deck by the solo skipper. The wind filled the sails but she didn’t move, only went broadside and leant further over. I could see the skipper trying to lower the sails, difficult to lower when filled with wind. I got the binoculars out and just couldn’t believe what was happening to my dream boat. She’d gone on the reef and was being pushed further on by the wind and waves. Oh what a disaster. My skipper got on the radio and the alarm was raised. Dinghies roared over to see what they could do to help. I felt helpless and could only watch as this beautiful boat was swept further onto the reef, baring her bottom as she was swept onto her side. Nothing could be done. She was stuck hard.

I remember crying at the loss I felt for the senseless end of a beautiful boat forever. I felt each crunch inside me as she was battered by the reef, as if I was taking the physical pain for a boat with no feelings, as if I was watching someone die a painful death.

We left soon after, heading south again and I’ll never forget seeing her lying helpless on the reef, all alone out there with no hope of recovery, and a year or so later when I returned her hull was lying on the bottom of our anchorage. Don’t know how she got there. I dove down to the wreck. She was bare of masts and all her fittings, just another wreck for divers and fish to explore, still beautiful, but naked for all to see.

A reminder to all passing yachtsmen of the perils of the Caribbean sea and shores.

Cunard Days

2006-05-23T19:21:00.000+01:00

The Cunard Princess docked weekly in St. Georges, Grenada, which is where this photo was taken, I reckon, back in the 70s, whilst we were there. Our marina was a quarter of a mile to the right of the bow of this ship.
We watched her come in and watched the tourists throwing coins over the side for the locals kids to dive for, this would go on whilst the ship was manoeuvring to moor alongside the dock, and the kids made a fortune. It was banned in later years due to an awful accident waiting to happen, happening to one of the boys.
Every Wednesday during the school holidays, my brothers and I would brazenly stroll along the dock mingling with legitimate tourists and walk aboard along the gangplank and in through a hole in the side of the ship, as if we were tourist kids with purpose and family. (Yeah, like we looked like pale and sunburnt tourist kids).
Very quickly we discovered the fresh water open-air pool on the top deck and even better, discovered that the poolside burger bar had a ‘free’ day on Wednesdays and dished out burgers, hotdogs, apples and fresh orange juice to anyone.
Surely the staff must have sussed that we weren’t tourists, especially as we would return for several weeks on the trot, but if they did then they didn’t let on.
We would stuff ourselves on these weekly treats, swim, read, sunbathe and act responsibly in the pool so that we didn’t attract attention to ourselves.
Then we wandered all over the ship, trying out the lifts up and down the decks and following the corridors just to see where they led. We’d be on the ship for hours, but also always mindful of the time, so that we could then stroll off before the ship sailed at 4pm.
I was the eldest at 10-11’ish then, and mum didn’t have a clue where we were, because as long as we were back for dinner daily, then we had total freedom to roam, well, anywhere really.
Imagine if we had judged it wrong and sailed with the ship? It doesn’t bear thinking about as a parent, but as kids we did it cos we could, and just didn’t tell mum what we got up to.
We knew the Cunard Adventurer and the Cunard Countess pretty well too.

Only Fools and Bikers

2006-05-22T17:47:00.000+01:00

Just in case there is anyone out there who would like a weekend camping with a bunch of bikers & partying, with live Rock bands, a firework display worth seeing, a HUGE campfire, a kids entertainer, a bike show with trophies and cash prizes, the usual stalls selling food and bike stuff, and held on the lawn in front of a country mansion with a lake and woods to walk off around, and steep grassy slopes for sledging down on bits of cardboard...

No time to go any further with this today....

Brittany 2004

2006-05-21T20:21:00.000+01:00

Due to our last minute panic about booking a B & B near St. Malo for the end of our summer holiday this year, I am reminded of our last trip there 2 years ago, and this was us ready for departure. One year we didn't pre-book a B & B which resulted in us sleeping on the tarmac of the ferry queue!

The bikes and boards are essentials, but anything else and we'd have been overloaded.

We put up with the rain, the kids make the most of it and we sit and rain-watch happily hoping it'll stop sometime soon.

The days on the beach are such fun, spent digging holes and channels in the sand with our loony dutch friend, (in black), bodyboarding, and swimming. The rock pools are amazing here at Cap Frehel, never seen bigger, and such fun to explore, some are deep enough for deliciously warm dips.

Gadgetgirlies psychology

2006-05-20T17:12:00.000+01:00

The results of shopping after work today when I was starving. I don't really like shopping.

.......I bought a little something naughty for later as a reward....The fifth one was superfluous to family needs so I got rid of the problem sharpish.

Then found these photos on the camera, that Gadgetgirlie decided to take, as evidence of her efforts at tidying her room this morning.

A bit later.....

"Muumm?"
"Yessss?"
"Can my friend sleep over please?"
I couldn't very well say, "Your room is a tip, and I'll need to see a tidy room to think about it, could I?

So we have two giggly girlies for the night. I wonder what time they'll get to sleep...

Testing the limits

2006-05-19T17:18:00.000+01:00

"Mum, can I go to Kingston with my mate tomorrow?"
"No."
"Why not?"
"Because you let us down badly last week and you have to rebuild the trust that we had in you."
"Yeah but I had to weed the quiet area for a whole week for that."
"No, that was for truanting from school, not for letting us down."

He thinks about this for a minute.

"So why can't I go to Kingston then?"

I try again patiently. "Because we don't feel that we can trust you to act responsibly on your own at the moment."

More deep thought. "Well can I go to Chessington World of Adventures with my mate then?"

Oh for goodness sake!

"No."
"Why not?"
"For the same reason."

He thinks about this for a bit longer.

"So can my mate come over here or I go to his house to play base guitar then?"

Now we're getting somewhere. "Yes, if it's okay with his parents.
So you understand that we will be restricting your freedom for a while because of all that has happened?"

"Yes, I don't like it........but I understand."

He's a good lad deep down cos that was exactly what I wanted to hear....

Gadgetmans deterrent

2006-05-15T23:13:00.000+01:00

For those of you that can put up with seeing further details of gadgetry on Gadgetmans Trike, I present the remote control for the missile firing device, fitted to deter thieving scumbags from nicking the now-replaced cd player!

The buttons are easy to use really, disarm, arm, audible warning and FIRE........

Pleasures & Gadgets

2006-05-14T21:17:00.000+01:00

Spent too long today hunting for a biker friendly B & B near St. Malo, on the internet but had enough of that and needed to get out for a while.

It looked like rain was looming but I didn't care, at least I wouldn't get too hot in leathers. I thought about the route from Ripley to Newlands but found myself on the road for Boxhill. The route is varied so I get to enjoy passing the slow traffic past Chessington world of Adventures, have a very quick blat along the bypass towards Leatherhead, then enjoy the bendy bits of the A24, with a final brief blat along the dual carriageway before Rykas, where a browse with a cappucino awaits.

The above photo is of a Bennelli TNT titanium belonging to Colin, who had to collect his bike direct from the factory in Italy. Note the under seat exhaust, in-built heater for hot bums? It's got a 1130 cc engine with 149 bhp and only 25 of this model exist. that's all I remember anyway.

A tall, long-white-haired & bearded wizened, toothless, wizardy-type old chap approached as soon as I drew up at Newlands Corner a little later.
Said his name was 'The Druid of Avebury', (Wiltshire), and that he had just rebuilt the gearbox on this AMF 350 cc Harley from, I think, 1976 and was out to run it in with a whole heap of miles, so popped up to one of his old haunts at Newlands. What a character he was.

Then Gadgetman and Gadgetgirlie turned up on the Trike and soon we headed back to Boxhill where the Trike got a bit of attention.

And Gadgetgirlie acquainted herself with my bike.

Well, there's the oil pressure gauge, voltmeter, fuel gauge, input manifold vacuum gauge, water temperature gauge, and fuel pressure gauge.

The blue red & green illuminated switches on the left are for the cooling fans, fog lights and hazard warning lights.

Below them are the left indicator, ignition, high beam, oil pressure warning and right indicator lights.

The dip stick is for the gearbox oil and the brackets for something missing are for the rear view camera screen, especially useful for overtaking and for use with the half-a-Renault-extra trailer, which also has a camera mounted.

'The Gadgets'? Can't imagine how any friends of ours could possibly think of such a nickname...

Filled my boots & Gadgeteens 'time'

2006-05-13T18:25:00.000+01:00

What's a girl to do when she gets home from work and no-one is in and the sun is shining?

Attend to the laundry pile?

Tidy the house?

Not this one, got all excited at just the thought, and a hastily scribbled 'Out for a ride' note later, I was gone and so was my Harley. She gleamed and kerfuffled happily and I felt very alive, and free to roam in my thoughts for a while.

Up at Newlands Corner I recognised a biker that I remember chatting to at Boxhill 16 years ago. He had a sportster back when I had my last one. Now he's got this 'M' reg Kawasaki W650, similar in looks to the old Triumph, unusual I thought, and quite attractive. We sat in the afternoon sun and swapped experiences with a coffee for a while.

On the way back I found a country lane to bumble along, not really caring where it took me, just going with the flow and filling my boots with memories.

Gadgeteen returned home soon after I did, and as we ate I told him of my phone call with his head teacher today regarding his truanting.

"We would like your son to come in with an old set of clothes each day next week, he will have to stay behind and 'weed' the grounds for an hour. Would you support us in this?"

Perfect.

"No way, I'm not doing it," says Gadgeteen, "I'd rather be punched in the face."

He'll come round and do his time but I can't say he'll feel able to laugh about it for at least 10 years...

You're gonna get a letter

2006-05-12T14:10:00.000+01:00

His shoulders were already slumped as he came in from school and flopped onto the settee.

He knew that he’d let us down.

“So what happened then?”

Well…after school I met my mate in Kingston, and you’re gonna get a letter.”

Silence ensued as we waited for more.

“Yeah and um, me and my mate went to the 99p store and nicked some chewing gum and a can of hair spray each. We were hungry.”

More silence.

“And um, we walked down the road and a man, I think he was security, took us back to the store and we gave the stuff back and um, (big sigh emanates), then a policeman came and told us to get out of Kingston and that if he saw us again then he would nick us and we got banned from the 99p store forever, so you’re gonna get a letter. I’m sorry.”

Oh my God.

Not only that but he then went on to tell us that they,

1) had pre-planned the whole day and skived off school.
2) went to the skateboard park at Kingston. (Bushy Park).
3) bought travel cards and went to the Southbank and saw some people doing graffiti.
4) then went by tube, (“we went on a tram”), to Camden Market. (“I saw this cool schoolbag mum, can I go back and get it?”).
5) tried, what I think, was Amyl Nitrate.
6) had the best day ever.
7) scrounged tap water from Macdonalds, (“ And they even gave us ice, mum”).
8) and starved all day.

Help. I don’t want to be a mum anymore, it’s too hard!

So what d' ya do?

Sunny work days

2006-05-11T08:06:00.000+01:00

This chap guards our pond and expresses exactly how I feel about the prospect of work today.

It's a lovely sunny morning and I can hear lawn mowers and strimmers nearby and the smell of freshly cut grass wafts across the gardens.

I'd rather be anywhere but at work but gotta go...