Back again

I've been down in London visiting Daughter 2 and family. Littlest Granddaughter taught me a very complicated game. 

Daughter 2 managed to get the grass cut. It's been very wet down there, and their garden is terrible London clay, so is very soggy in those circumstances. But the grass'll dry better now it's shorter. We also did some weeding and Daughter 2 planted some stuff. So, all good. 

We did a bit of playparking. 

We also sat in her kitchen, chatting and admiring the cut lawn. The second of Littlest G's front teeth wobbled out. She doesn't believe in the Tooth Fairy but was happy to find the pound coin underneath her pillow. 

Then I came back. This is Kings Cross station. That crowd on the left is a long caterpillar of people queuing up to have their photos taken (at, I imagine, some expense) in front of a wall which is blank apart from a sign saying "Platform 9 and three-quarters" (the three-quarters is written as a fraction but I can't get my computer to do this in Blogger).  There's always a queue like this. Strange! I never got into Harry Potter - read the first book and thought it was a bit unoriginal, but am informed that things improved in subsequent books. I haven't seen the films either. 

It was nice to get home, but I miss Daughter 2 and her little one.  

And while I was away, this happened. 
 

Mistakes

We've been in London visiting Daughter 2 and family, taking with us Big Grandson so that he could ride around on London's transport. No accounting for tastes... . Anyway, he and Mr Life did this on Saturday, Monday and Tuesday. On Sunday, we all went to the Post Office Museum (which includes a post-train ride), and on Monday and Tuesday I looked after Littlest Granddaughter while her parents worked. 

We had a busy time. She tried five times to teach me how to assemble her toy aeroplane. I got better at it, but never entirely succeeded without help - there must be about fifteen bits. She's 6 and I'm 73. I'm not mechanically minded. I confess I wasn't really trying at the beginning, but started to concentrate once I realised that I was probably going to have to keep doing it till I succeeded. It turned out that even my full concentration wasn't enough. 

And now we're home and it's amaryllis time again, and today was beautiful and I got some gardening done, hurray. 

I'm learning things I didn't know about American English through Duolingo, which requires one to translate from the French and German which I'm brushing up. It marks one wrong when one doesn't guess what it wants one to say. For example, when I translated from its French, "I didn't wash before work because I got up late", it wanted me to say, "I didn't wash up before work because I woke up late." Do you really say this, Americans? Here, washing up refers to doing the dishes. And it doesn't allow you to say "football" when it wants "soccer" (I mean, "fussball", Duolingo!), and objects to your saying "in my break" when it wants "on my break". It's interesting, though, if a bit frustrating. 

I'd try some Scottish English on it (we say, for example, "amn't" as in "I'm right, amn't I?") but you only get five mistakes ("mistakes") and then you have to buy more credit, so I don't think I will... . English people would say "aren't I?", which sounds odd to me. We don't say, "I are", after all. How about Americans? Australians? New Zealanders? Are you of the "aren't I?" persuasion. 

Not pottering

I was down in London last weekend, babysitting Littlest Granddaughter while Daughter 2 and Son-in-Law 2 were at a wedding. We played hide-and-seek. Can you possibly guess where she is, in this photo?? 

We read lots of stories. 

It rained, really quite hard, so that we couldn't go out. When I was a mum, I was famous for dragging my three out for Wet Walks. But I don't feel that I can exert so much authority over grandchildren and anyway, it was really very wet. But the day passed pretty well anyway. 

On Sunday the sun shone, so Daughter 2 got some plants planted. When they bought the house, the back garden was all grass, but she's gradually filling it with flowers. The soil is very solid London clay, so hard work to do anything with. 

Meanwhile the Edinburgh 2 are down in Devon with their cousins on their dad's side, which is lovely. 

About fourteen months ago, I got seen by a consultant who said that I needed a hip replacement operation, but the NHS has big backlogs so I was expecting to wait several years. However, to my surprise, I was recently summoned to a hospital in the west of Scotland and so went there today. I travelled by train, which was easy enough, though I did get up at 5.30am to do so - I was worried that the later train might be cancelled. I was in fact far too early, but that's better than being far too late. I saw a different consultant, a nurse, a nurse practitioner, a pharmacist and an occupational therapist, and they were all very nice, and it turns out that I should get the operation within 3-6 months. 

It seemed a good idea to get the op when it wasn't for several years. Now I'm thinking - hmm! oooh! - that's not very long. 

Still, it would have cost about £16-£18,000 to get it done sooner, privately, and this will be free. So - good old NHS. And I'm just not going to think about it until I have to. 
 

Away. And back.

I've just come back from visiting Daughter 2 in London. One day, I met up with my best friend from school, who also went to London and never came back. (Cf my brother. What is it with London?) Anyway, look how much coffee costs in St Pancras Station! 

Later that day there was an impromptu mini-party in the garden with two of the members of Son-in-Law 2's improv troupe, the Showstoppers. This was very exciting for me: one of them is Ruth, who is amazing. (They're all pretty amazing.) If you have five minutes, Google "Showstoppers - And then he left" and you'll see why I think so. This song was genuinely improvised in front of an audience as part of one of their many, many improvised musicals. (The male actor isn't SIL 2.)

Littlest Granddaughter is getting big. 

Yesterday we went to a garden centre to choose plants for their currently somewhat featureless back garden. This was fun!

It's been horribly hot in London and the nasty clay of their garden is as hard as concrete. It'll be quite difficult to dig holes in it, to plant these. However, despite appearances, the soil must be quite fertile, since Daughter 2 has planted lots of things in the front garden which are thriving. 

And today I came home to find that my sweet peas are blooming. How things change in the garden in five days. 

My train journey was not the best. First I was in a crowded carriage and the girl sharing my double seat was HUGE. I mean, I’m by no means thin but she was massive, so that she (who was by the window) overlapped at least a third of my seat. Thus a third of me was sticking out into the corridor and my rear end was very conscious of the uncomfortable edge of my seat. She was also very hot, radiating her heat, and I kept inching away from her, upon which she immediately spread into the gap that I’d created. This probably sounds very unsympathetic and I was very sorry for her, but would have been even sorrier if she hadn’t been eating the most enormous sandwich I’ve ever seen. Maybe it was a special train treat. After a bit I went to investigate the unbooked carriage and found empty seats, so I moved. I expect she was pleased to get more space too.

But then I found myself opposite the chattiest woman in the world, who talked all the way to Edinburgh (from maybe twenty miles out of London). She has recently left her cheating husband in the Canary Islands (where they lived) and come home to Kent. Today she was going to Edinburgh to stay for ten days with a friend she knows from the Canary Islands. She was looking forward to it, and excited, but also a bit dubious because he’s a naturist (ie nudist) and is going to take her to a naturist B and B in south-west Scotland. "Well, I'm 63 now and I suppose I should be trying new things before it's too late," she said, without total conviction. The rest of her life story involved another husband, two sons, three grandsons, a father with dementia and her previous job - while living in Kent and before going abroad -  on Network Rail. She was very nice but I didn't have the peaceful time with my book and flask of coffee that I had in mind. I hope her naturist chap is nice and not too... naturist. 

So it's nice to be home in warm, but not desperately hot, Edinburgh. And it's peaceful. But as usual, visiting Daughter 2 just reminds me how nice she is and how much I miss her. 

 

Chuff chuff

We've just come back from London, where we went with Big Grandson with the express purpose of riding around on various modes of London transport. We took the train down there on Tuesday (bus, long-distance train, underground, overground, bus - to get to Daughter 2's house) and then spent two days on trains, buses and tubes. This is not normally my idea of very heaven; indeed, it's more like very hell for someone who doesn't like London or travelling in vehicles, has no interest in trains or buses and is rather motion sick. However, it was very nice being with Big Grandson and seeing his pleasure. He really loves, and is very knowledgeable about, transport. 

Luckily Mr L is more interested than I am. 

Not a beautiful sight, though improved by the back of our little chap's head. 

Also not postcard-worthy. 

London is unfeasibly enormous. We went to lots of places that I'd never heard of: Northwick Park, Stonebridge Park, Abbey Wood, Eastcote... 

I imagine I'll never be there again! 

The one place I did find interesting in was Uxbridge, where we walked down a little street and found a small park on land that had been given as a graveyard by Henry, Earl of Darby, Lord of Stanly and Strange Lord of Man and the Isles in 1576; and decommissioned, if that's the word, in 1855. Even at that later date, I imagine that it was an idyllic village spot for the dead to lie in peace. Now it's surrounded on three sides by roaring traffic, though there are daffodils and the odd bench. Grandson enjoyed bus spotting through the fence. 

Look at all the gravestones piled against the wall,

like this one for little Elizabeth Powell, who died in 1757 aged (I think) 30 months, doubtless breaking her parents' hearts. 

And then we came home again on the bus, train, tube, train and bus with Daughter 2 and Littlest Granddaughter. Four straight days travelling. It was worth it but we won't be doing that again in a hurry! However, Grandson had a lovely time, and that was the point. 

There and back again

I've been down in London, visiting Daughter 2 and Littlest Granddaughter. One day we went to a play centre in Stratford (not Shakespeare's Stratford - the place in east London where (some of?) the Olympics took place). 

After having fun inside, we went into the outdoor play area. We had it to ourselves because it was really quite wet. 

On the way home, we passed what I think are flats. I am so glad that I don't live there. So unbeautiful, so high, so lacking in garden. 

Another day we went to the library. Libraries were never supplied with cafes in my youth (or even now, here, as far as I know). 

And we played with Elsa. Or it might have been Ana. 

And Daughter 2 took me to see what we hope is going to be their new house - the cumbersome English house-buying process permitting. It's nice - much more roomy than their current two-bedroom flat. Fingers crossed. Littlest decided which bedroom she'd like - the biggest one. Hmm...

And then I came home. It took me 9 hours from their flat to our house. The first train broke down and we had to go backwards to the previous station. Then later in the journey there was a delay with the second one because of "an incident on the platform" involving a lady who had fallen "so obviously we can't leave till the ambulance has come". Slightly mysterious. I hope she was all right. 

I took this picture once we'd got back into Scotland. It's always a great feeling. But I miss them very much. 
 

Back

Well, I got down to London and saw this little person and her mum and dad. Which was lovely. And now I'm back. 

While I was away, I marvelled at Daughter 2's organised way of storing Lego. 

And, at the Museum of the Home, at William Morris's high standards for chaps. 

Daughter 2 decorated her mantelpiece

and her fairly enormous tree. 

And Littlest Granddaughter practised lots of leaping off the sofa.

Daughter 2 and her husband have (theoretically, at least) sold their flat and are trying to buy a house. Even in the outer suburb that they live in, you get very little house in London for a vast sum of money, the sort of sum that even in expensive Edinburgh would buy you a nice four-bed, two-public, two-bathroom in a good area. Not in London, though. There are lots of people all after the same eye-wateringly expensive small houses. It's very sad. I always feel sad when I part from them, but even more when they're spending so much time looking at houses and not succeeding in getting anything. Daughter 2, being an architect, doesn't just vaguely think where they could put the furniture, like most people, but draws out the floor plans of the houses they see and thinks how she could improve them. So far, however, there's not been an opportunity to put her ideas into action. 

I find London very stressful - so busy, so enormous, so many people that you see momentarily and never again. I had coffee with a friend on Wednesday and it took me an hour and 25 minutes to get to where we were meeting. (Fortunately I'd left an hour and a half for the journey.) It just takes so long to get anywhere. I find tube travel very nerve-racking, too - I hate being underground. I so wish they weren't living there. But they are, and will continue to do so.

Moan, moan, moan. I'm trying hard to count my blessings... .

 

London and back in the time of virus

Well, I've been down to London and back, and had a lovely time with Daughter 2 and Littlest Granddaughter. On the way down, my carriage was empty until Newcastle - quite a way down into England - which was splendid, but then lots people got on and it was relatively busy. You're given two seats each, which obviously makes for a certain amount of distancing, and everyone wore face masks, but the lady opposite me (with a table between us) decided to tell me her life story. This involved her marriage, her cheating husband, her divorce and her subsequent getting together with her childhood sweetheart - whom she was off to London to visit. Whenever she got to a juicy bit, she lowered her mask, leaned towards me and hissed the details in a loud stage whisper. I'm not sure she quite grasped the principle behind mask-wearing. She was a school dinner lady, so ... yes, possibly in contact with quite a lot of germs. 

Daughter 2 arranged a (garden) visit from my brother, sister-in-law and niece, which was lovely. Who knows when we'll meet again?

Daughter 2, Littlest Granddaughter and I visited one cafe (and were in a room all by ourselves), but otherwise spent the time at home or outside. It was hot. Littlest is perfectly at ease with me. She's such a dear little thing. 

Playparking. 

Gardening. 

Playing on a basketball court. 

Watering the plants. 

And then I came home again, from a fairly empty King's Cross station and on a fairly empty train, this time with non-speaking passengers. 

So I hope I haven't got Covid, but have been keeping away from people since I got back, just in case. 

Assuming that I haven't, I'm very glad I went because Britain (especially Scotland) has now gone further back into lockdown. In Scotland, we're no longer allowed to visit each other's houses - though grandparents are allowed to childmind and I think we're allowed to meet up with some people outside, though I must check the details of this. We are, however, allowed to meet with anybody in pubs, cafes and restaurants. I know that it's all done in broad brush strokes for simplicity, and the government is trying to keep the economy going, but it does seem slightly tapsalteerie - as we say here. 

I feel a great absence of Daughter 2 and Littlest. It could be a long time till we see them again. How very rubbish is that?