Words still fail. More or less.

I'm posting today out of habit - I seem to be doing it every day during December as well as November because of Daughter 2's Advent gifties. But it all seems very trivial compared to the awful, terrible events of yesterday in America. In Scotland one is reminded of the similarly horrific killings in Dunblane in 1996. This is the sort of thing that just doesn't happen here... or so we thought. Anyway, anything I can think to say about it seems totally inadequate so instead, here are the chocolate Christmas trees that we enjoyed today (thank you, darling Daughter 2)...

... and the little heart that she opened this morning, to remind her (not that she needs reminding) how much we love her.

The tree is now up and decorated but the wrappings for all the decorations are scattered all over the sitting room so I must go and tidy them up. Oh, for a maid. Or a fairy.

My heart goes out to all those poor parents and grandparents for whom Christmas will forever be a time of grief.

Words fail

This morning: two felt balls - Christmas decorations - from Daughter 2. And a reindeer on the calendar.

From us to her - chocolate plum puddings.

We went into town today and parked in Heriot Row, where Robert Louis Stevenson grew up. This is his house. Heriot Row is very very expensive. I'm amazed that the owners are allowed to have a scarlet door. I thought that New Town ("new" as in 1800ish) doors all had to be black or white. It looks festively decorated inside, unlike (currently) our house. Tomorrow, however... .

This is a little street of shops which I shall never enter - all designery stuff such as Mulberry and Calvin Klein. Hmm, that lady in red could do with shedding a few pounds. She is not me, I hasten to add.

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My husband has just this moment told me of the horrible shooting of little children in America. So I shall stop burbling about Christmas and just say that I'm very very sorry for anyone involved. How absolutely dreadful. Words fail.

Lunch with the lad

 We're rich! Chocolate coins and another tree. (Well, we were rich. Until we ate them.)

 A little angel for our little angel.

We went up to have lunch with Son today. He lives north of us - according to Google it's only 31 miles as the crow flies, which surprised me, but since we're not crows it takes about 50 minutes to drive. There's the little matter of an estuary to get over.

However, it was MUCH colder there than in Edinburgh. We went for an icy walk along the river.

 Brrr.

Not really that inviting, is it?

It's fairly chilly here too and has been for some days. I keep having to pour boiling water on the bird bath to melt it a bit. For some reason Cassie Cat has taken to going out about 4 in the afternoon and staying out till quite late - it was half past midnight last night and let me tell you, I wouldn't have liked to be outside without my scarf. And this is the cat who, when the heating's not on during the day, curls up into a reproachful ball and complains that she's a bit cold.

Sirius comes in considerably earlier but has once again taken to sleeping overnight on top of his igloo instead of in it. The kitchen, where they sleep, has three outside walls, three windows and two skylights and is the coldest room in the house. Last night, I several times pushed him into the igloo - he spreading his legs in protest - but the moment he was inside he doubled back on himself and came out again.

Now I must go and make a determined search for my Christmas card box, which I definitely saw in the mid-point of the study reorganisation but which has been missing since then. I'm sure it was a green box file. Or possibly a blue one. Or was it yellow? Anyway, it has the cards in it and I need to send them.

PS Found it. It was in a cupboard in the middle of a big stash of Mr Life's paperwork that he's going to sort out after Christmas. He says.

Cat in a basket

 Today, some cloud-shaped sticky notes. And another reindeer.

And from us to her, a Santa pen. "I decided not to take it into the office," she said. I can see why. Not terribly grown-up.

Sirius sat in a plastic basket. (Excuse the messy table. I was in the middle of doing things.)

 "Of course I'm comfortable," he said. "What - you don't think it's flattering?"

Grandson came to visit. He was very busy.

"Ah, penguins," he said. "I think I'll just rearrange them."

The plumber also came to visit - or rather, to fit the new basin to replace the one that got cracked when I flicked a towel up at the ceiling to remove a cobweb. I missed. At least, I missed the cobweb. But I hit a glass perfume bottle, which hit the sink. What with having to get an identical basin to the (now discontinued) broken one so that it would to fit the hole in the counter top, and then getting the plumber to spend some considerable time installing it, that little incident cost about £500. Oops. Don't do that at home, readers.

How nice that you're still reading, Anon/Mary/Margaret. [Waves.]

Gnarled

 

The Advent gifts bore a certain resemblance to each other today. Daughter 2's to us, above...

 

 

... and ours to her.

 

 

We went up town today to do some uninteresting tasks. It was ch-i-ll-y. It was also sunny but the sun is low in the sky at this time of year and doesn't show in this photo.

 

 

You can tell that it's cold when our cats cuddle into each other. For those who have difficulty telling them apart, this is Cassie in the front. You can tell by her slightly tufted ears and her misleadingly innocent expression. She also has a red collar, while Sirius's is blue - not that you can see this here.

 

 

And of course, this is Sirius giving his sister an affectionate - possibly - little wash.

 

By the way, Anna and Molly - I got the sewing machine out today and actually USED IT! I hope you're proud of me. I was only putting an extra lining on curtains that have always let in rather too much light, but still - it's a start. The machine behaved itself and didn't - as it has a tendency to do - sew beautifully on the front but gnarl the thread into knots on the back.

 

That's all I'm doing just now but after Christmas... well, after New Year... who knows?

 

Daughter 1 is on holiday this week so we aren't looking after Grandson. I'm suffering withdrawal symptoms. I think we need to pay them a visit tomorrow.

 

PS On the crowded bus into town, a young woman of about 30 got up and gave me her seat. Very kind. Also slightly depressing!

'Tis the season to be ... jollyish

It’s a funny thing, grief. At first when Mum died, I think the relief at her being out of pain and discomfort lessened my sadness that she was dead. But now weepiness overcomes me from time to time. It’s not the old-lady Mum that I miss so much – though she leaves a big hole in my life because I was very involved for the last ten years or so in looking after her, to an increasing degree. But more and more I remember what she was like when I was a girl. We were very close and used to laugh a lot together. I miss my younger Mum.

 

Today I went through the cards and letters we were sent when she died. There were 65 of these, which is quite a lot for a 90-year-old most of whose long-term friends are already dead. It was interesting to reread them – I really didn’t take them in at the time – but it was upsetting too. I’ve kept a few - the ones that said insightful things about her - but have firmly thrown most of the ones that just (kindly) expressed sympathy. We’re trying to cut down on clutter.
 

Part of the difficulty of this sort of grief – grief for someone of her age – is that it feels unreasonable. Being orphaned at the age of 62 is not exactly headline news. I was lucky to have her that long. But it’s more complicated than that. I’m sad because I miss her but also because she was still interested in life and didn’t want to die and also because of the sad fact that we must all die. It seems a poor system, though – yes – better than the alternative, I know.
 

And missing one’s children (sorry Anon, if you’re still reading) hurts because it’s unreasonable too. Of course they must fly the nest and of course they must be independent because Mr Life and I going to die one of those days and it would be terrible if they couldn’t cope on their own.
 

Well well. I like to spread a bit of Christmas cheer. (I think this has come on partly because of the imminence of Christmas without Mum. Also, we got delivery of a double bed today for the room that was Daughter 2’s and then Mum’s and now is just another spare room. Which will of course be useful when most of the family comes for Christmas. My brother and family used to stay with Mum and now will be with us – and that will be nice. But different.)

 

 

Meanwhile, more jollily, here's Daughter 2's gift to us today. Ho ho ho. 

 

 

 

And here's ours to her. Why the match? (It's actually a pen.) Does she smoke? No, but I thought it was mildly amusing. Much like a gingerbread man wearing a Santa hat.

 

Now back to the piano practice, which as ever is driving me nuts. Why am I doing this? I could be lying in a nice warm bath reading a book and eating chocolate instead of making a big hash of Silent Night, which my teacher probably thought would put me in a Christmassy mood. Ha ha ha.

It's the 9th

Today's gift - a notebook with coloured pages. I love stationery, though this is almost too nice to use. We now have six reindeer and three trees on the calendar.

Pursuing her policy of opening the wrong parcel, Daughter 2 unwrapped this one yesterday...

 ... but got back on track this evening with this one.

We frequently pass my parents' house because it's on a nearby, unavoidable road. Since it sold, it's had a lot of things done to the outside: it now has a black door (rather funereal-looking) instead of a white one and the garden's been substantially changed, but it looks smart, which is good. Tonight there was a Christmas tree with uncoloured lights in the window . Mum and Dad's always had coloured lights - she wasn't so keen on the plain ones. I'm happy that the house is being cared for but it was quite painful to see the tree and know that Mum isn't going to have any more Christmasses.

This is a picture of Sirius licking Cassie. In their relationship he's always the licker and she's always the lickee. Not sure why. In love, there is always one who kisses and one who simply proffers the cheek. Or maybe he just thinks she could do with a wash.

Sorting out

Today has been rather tedious and tiring but I suppose we've achieved a bit. We tackled some of my mother's things and took another load to charity shops, which was horrible but feels a bit better now it's done. We then went for a little walk in the Botanics (above) to cheer ourselves up a bit.

In the afternoon, we sorted and purged some of the stuff which used to be in our study and which got dumped in my mum's cupboards when we had the study redecorated. Then for some reason I decided this evening that it would be a good idea to take down all the books from the shelves in the dining room, dust them and the shelves, and select a lot of them for charity shops too.

You know how it is when you "tidy" - the house looks a lot worse afterwards because of all the things that you don't want to put back where they were, but you're not sure what to do with? That's the stage we're at just now with my mum's room, the dining room and the study. Groan.

Daughter 2's present to us was two Quality Street chocolate bars but we absentmindedly ate them and failed to take their picture. You'll have to take my word for it. But they were very fine.

Now I must return to tackle some of the chaos. I would really prefer to - well, do almost anything, really. I HATE tidying. (I mean, I do it. I'm quite tidy. But I hate having to sort out difficult messiness such as currently lies in little drifts all around.)

Confused

One of the things about being retired is that you often don't know the date. I don't mean that you're vague about the year. (Well, not usually.) Just - is it the 6th or the 7th or even maybe the 8th? This is odd for me after years of marking registers several times a day. However, I've just checked and today is definitely the 7th, so I don't know why Daughter 2 opened the above this morning. Presumably I put the wrong number on it. Anyway, I know she did open it because she texted: "Thanks for my cat highlighters! Very jolly. I'm taking them into work for that professional look."

She gave us this make-you-own-robot kit. It says ominously on it that if you need further instructions, you can look up their website. We haven't tried yet.

The castaway on Desert Island Discs this morning was Dustin Hoffman, who talked several times about needing therapy to find out who he was. He also had a theory that at the pearly gates, we would meet up with God, who would tell us that all our assumptions about ourselves were wrong. I remember that in the 60s and 70s people used to talk about "finding themselves" and I never did understand this. I feel I've always known who I was - the sole exception being that the moment I was handed Daughter 1, I immediately became besotted with babies in a way I had never been before - which was a slight surprise. But apart from that - I feel that I was born this way and am quite familiar with myself. I suppose that I've never had to discover whether I'd step back from the last place in the lifeboat or throw myself between a stranger and a raging lion. But I'm clear about my general likes and dislikes and abilities (and lack of same) and personality. At least I think so.

And you?

Stretching the legs

 

Today - another reindeer (all so far facing to their right - or to the west, I suppose) and a little photo frame.

For Daughter 2, a chocolate teddy and some festive ribbon. I should perhaps explain that the reason why there aren't two chocolate teddies (or whatever it happens to be) - for her and her husband - is that he is in Somerset, acting in a children's Christmas show. Fortunately she has lots of friends but I wish she wasn't alone in the flat.

The weather was cold and damp today so Grandson and I went to the museum again.

He was very interested in the little trap doors in the floor. He has a touching air of independence in these pictures - if you can look truly independent when you're clutching a toy rabbit in your hand.

How precious these years are, when children strike out confidently, sure that they're safe because someone's behind them, looking after them. (He did turn from time to time to check that I was there.) I do hope life does nothing to dent that confidence. He's such a dear little chap.

On the fifth day...

 A fourth reindeer rises from the Advent calendar.

 We open parcel number 5 to find two chocolate hedgehogs. They were very nice.

This was what Daughter 2 will have found this morning.

It's been a mildly useful day today. For the first time in living memory I've posted my overseas Christmas cards on the last suggested day (as opposed to some days after that). Hooray me. This afternoon we went up town and did a very minor amount of Christmas shopping - but it's a start. Then this evening I've made the Christmas cakes. Progress. What with that and Zumba, I'm tired.

This is my inelegant but oh-so-cosy jumper, bought for the retired life so that we don't have to have the heating on all day. It's furry inside - a rather more lilac colour than it looks there but fortunately this doesn't show when it's zipped up. It's so thickly furry that it impedes my movements somewhat. It probably makes me look a bit like Grandson. He's walking most of the time now but - especially when packed into his snowsuit - he moves with that rolling, stiff-footed gait that reminds one of a recently disinterred mummy or a slightly inebriated robot. A short and slightly tubby one with a beaming smile.

(Hello, Clarissa, by the way!)

Revived

 O joy! Mr Life has mended my computer. Whew.

Today's giftie from Daughter 2.

"Dight" said Grandson appreciatively. Well, decorations for the dight, yes, Grandson.

These are ours to her - yesterday's...

... and today's. Somewhat inferior, I fear.

Here's the lad playing with the very splendid train given to him by Thimbleanna. He really likes it but today for the first time he got slightly cross with it. If he pulls it forward, it's fine but if he pushes it backwards, the carriages sometimes get unhooked and he becomes instantly distraught. Fortunately I'm by his side to rush to his aid and he equally quickly becomes delighted again: WAIL! - beam. Ah, the trials of being one.

PS - comment by Daughter 1 re the penguins:

The shop I bought the penguins from was Indish in Crouch End, London - http://www.indish.co.uk/. But I've had a look on their website and I don't think they have the penguins up.

However, I did find them for sale here:
http://www.snow-home.co.uk/tux-penguins/

Dead? Or only sleeping?

 

Look what happened last night. Snow! Not a lot, granted, and it's melted now, but not what we want, thank you, Weatherman.

 

The Advent reindeer have been joined by a tree.

Daughter 2's parcel for us contained two big green hooks.

Here is Grandson hooked to the fridge. The photo was taken (advert follows) by my lovely photograper friend, Alan Rennie. He also did the wedding photographs for Daughter 1 and Son (Daughter 2's were done by a friend of her husband) and they were great and he is so nice and very reasonable. He's highly recommended! Alan Rennie Photography. I would give you his website address but I can't because I'm using Mr Life's computer BECAUSE MINE HAS DIED! WAAAAHHH!!! - and I don't know how to get another internet page while I'm doing this.

As you can see even by my rubbish photo of Alan's photo, his photos are better than mine, but here's Grandson having great fun today playing with a travel rug.

I can't show you what our parcel for Daughter 2 contained, because my photo of that is on my computer AND IT'S DIED, as I may have mentioned.

In answer to the commenter who asked about the penguins (sorry I don't know who it is since I haven't read it yet but Mr Life has just told me about it) they came in a packet labelled Tux and the website www.designideas.net and seem to come from China via Springfield Illinois. I'm sure Daughter 1, who gave us them, could tell you more. Are you reading this, K?