Jenny Burrell

My friend, the PE teacher, was called away on family business so I took the exercise class for the residents at my mother’s care home yesterday. Not the expert I spent a bit of time planning two exercise routines, one for arms and the other for legs. Exercises are done sitting in chairs so this comes with a number of restrictions, as you can imagine!

After months of behaving, my docking station (yes, I still use that same docking station that survived Noah’s Ark!) periodically misbehaves. Over the Easter weekend when I hadn’t quite managed ten thousand steps and my Fitbit had warned me to ‘get moving’, after washing up I closed the kitchen door. By way of manic dancing to tunes on my iPod, which is connected to the said docking station, I reached my target. Fitbit and I would go to bed happy! One evening I started dancing to the Stones’ ‘Honky Tonk Women’ when suddenly it was replaced by a Katie Melua ballad. Not even the next song but a random choice!

So yesterday, docking station packed with two pieces of paper, one with the list of songs and the other the dance moves, I arrived, albeit a bit flustered, at the care home. Most of the residents were siting in their chairs watching a brass band playing old war tunes. This is how the activities manager gets them ‘into the mood’!

I started with a slow warm up to ‘As time goes by’ and we moved our heads, necks and were just about to raise our shoulders when the gentle crooning was replaced by the Troggs ‘Wild Thing’! I had the music quite loud and the doors were both closed so this sudden gravelly rendition of an unknown pop song created quite a stir! An old gentleman, taking his morning nap, was rudely awakened and tried to stand up, I presumed to leave the room, not to start gyrating!

We started again! This time Vera Lynn’s ‘White Cliffs of Dover’ was my choice and the class continued without further interruptions. The little Irish lady on my right, who had obviously kissed the Blarney Stone many times, was on top form. It never ceases to amaze me how supple she is as her high kicks in her chair would be the envy of most can-can dancers! She either sits and stares around the room passing asinine comments, or throws herself whole-heartedly into the class. Yesterday we had the latter.

In front of me and struggling but determined to work as hard as possible was 102 year old Maggie. She had been a land girl during the war. She is in the care home to help with physical disabilities but remains as bright as a button! She told me that she does her exercises every morning to keep supple and really looks forward to these weekly classes. That’s why my friend and I persevere, for people like Maggie and Mark.

Mark is the only gentleman who joins us to exercise. There are others who sleep or just don’t bother. But Mark is an active member of our class and a real joy to watch. Every session ends with ‘I would walk 500 miles’ a lively song where we have shown everyone the hand jive, which we perform with gusto when we hear the chorus. Mark has been known to stand up and march along to the beat. When this happens my friend dances with him and he radiates such joy and delight in the moment that this memory stays with me for the rest of the day!

There are times when we feel that the staff don’t help enough to get the residents into the sitting room and I’ve even had to confirm with the care home manager if she wants us to continue. But the activities manager is very grateful and the residents, who actively take part, some of whom have sat for weeks or even months before joining in, make this hour we give up of our time once a week worthwhile. It took Joyce until a couple of weeks ago to slowly begin to follow the exercises and she is now one of our most ardent fans!

Mum, however, continues to deteriorate but I still try to coax her to join in the classes. She often cat naps or just sings along to the music. Most times she’s comfortable and is being well cared for so there is not much more I can do. It’s families who suffer as much, if not more, than the patients! Until my mother went into a care home and I could see the many stages of dementia, I had no idea how low this disease could stoop! If only we could wipe it out, together with all mental illnesses. The world would be a far better place! 👠

I love Spring. Okay, I love Autumn too but Spring comes first and fills me with hope for the coming year! New leaves are always a brilliant almost translucent green. This happens so suddenly. I want to stand and watch as the buds burst open and the new growth slowly uncurls, one tiny section of leaf at a time. It’s as if I go to bed on a Monday and on a Tuesday morning a naked tree is miraculously clothed in a splendid green gossamer gown!

This floral part of nature I love and can relate to. It’s the fauna part that I sometimes find very disturbing.

Today, wandering around my garden, seeing the Lilly of the Valley’s tiny perfectly formed cream ‘tulip’ shaped flowers peering through their tall leafy protectors, inspired me to start preparing my tubs and hanging baskets. I love huge double begonias and always choose orange, red and yellow. These colours show up really well and flourish in our challenging conditions. Our house is in a dell and, because of all the trees, we get restricted sunlight. There is also a wet strip running along a broad section, covering about a third of our back garden, shared by neighbours on both sides, which seldom drains completely.

So, our garden has taken many years to understand. Most plants like well-drained soil. We can’t accommodate so have learned to work with our ‘palette’ and create a different type of garden. I have made separate rooms and have filled each with the types of shrubs and trees which grow in their specific conditions. I have a ‘shady’ room, a ‘bog plant’ room, a sun room and a few rose rooms. Within each room I have a couple of tubs where I plant the double begonias. These create colour throughout the summer and it doesn’t matter what condition the soil, the tubs are fertile and kept moist. A lot of work but well worth it!

Therefore, spring is when I go around each room, check which plants haven’t survived the winter and plan for a new year. Snowdrops and daffodils have already been and gone. A few bluebells in our ‘wild patch’ at the bottom of the garden are bringing colour just before the rhododendrons burst into a mass of beautiful mauves, pinks, reds and yellows!

Exciting times! This year I don’t have to wait for weekends to get stuck into one of the rare jobs I really enjoy! I have the choice of time and even a live-in labourer to boot! So, roll on Spring! Even my Fitbit can relax and stop reminding me to ‘take a walk’! 👠

A few days ago my husband and I sat in the conservatory enjoying a cup of tea. The sun was shining on the new green leaves on the trees in our garden and the wood across the road. The wind had abated and early evening had crept in quietly so as not to disturb the ambiance.

A pigeon wandered lazily beneath the bird feeder, scavenging for seeds and pieces of suet that had been dropped by the smaller birds. Another pigeon appeared on the fence a couple of feet away. He watched for a few minutes before dropping down onto the grass near the scavenger who was still mooching around siphoning up the scraps. Suddenly he pounced and the tranquility was shattered as the two birds waged world war three on our lawn.

Just as suddenly and with a shrill squawk they were joined by another bird. Pandemonium reigned before one of the pigeons flew up into the apple tree above the bird feeder. There remained two birds on the lawn and my husband had shot out of his chair to stand at the window where followed a running commentary!

‘Wow! There’s a sparrow hawk attacking the pigeon!’ he shouted excitedly. ‘He’s taking big chunks out of the pigeon’s breast. The pigeon’s still alive and struggling to get away! He’s got no chance!’ I got up and looked across at the pile of feathers on the lawn and more wafting around a wider perimeter. I heard a high-pitched shrieking noise and saw the pigeon pinned to the ground by the hawk ferociously ripping chunks of feathers from its breast. My initial reaction was to rush outside and chase the hawk away.

I didn’t. The sparrow hawk was doing what nature intended. Finding food to feed it’s family. I couldn’t watch the slaughter and wanted to get as far away from it as possible. My brain was telling me that this is a natural process and needs to happen for survival but my heart hated the sound of the mortally wounded pigeon and the hideous way it was going to die.

I also saw, at first hand, that women are from Venus, men from Mars! My husband fetched his camera and excitedly took photographs of the gory killing. I went back to my chair in the conservatory, finished my cup of tea and, going into the kitchen, started the evening meal. I tried to erase the ‘dark’ side of nature by busily doing what nature had intended for ‘civilised’ human beings!

Dinner in the oven I poured myself a G&T and went into the sitting room with my iPad to catch up on family and friends via Facebook. My escape 👠

The evening we arrived back from Madeira, still feeling like ‘bed would be the best option’, we went food shopping. Very good friends of ours had arrived from Devon and we were expecting them and two others for lunch the next day. I had no choice but to drag my annoyingly aching and pathetically sick body around the supermarket.

In a daze, clutching the shopping list I had made on the plane, I followed my husband up and down the aisles desperately hoping that I wouldn’t bump into anyone who knew me! My standards had plummeted and I hadn’t even bothered to repaint my lips. I just wanting to get back, have a long soaking bath and go to bed!

I need to explain that I have suffered many illnesses in the past. I have soldiered on throughout my significantly long working career sitting at my desk when I should have been at home. But I had never felt quite so bad! I can only presume that it must have been a particularly potent virus or, heaven forbid, I have become ‘soft? Is that what happens when one become a ‘Lady of Leisure’? No, it most definitely doesn’t and never will!

A couple of days later and moving on, (which I have!), the six of us ‘People of Leisure’ decided to spend a day at a National Trust working cotton mill. The engineers in our party would find the water wheel, that once drove the mill, fascinating. We girls, as good mates do, would wander around, catching up on family news and old friends (none of us at a loss for words!) while enjoying the sunshine in the early spring gardens. Lunch would be typical National Trust fare, which is always edible and saves any of us having to prepare.

The biting wind and my still ‘fuzzy’ head didn’t spoil the day. I have been to ‘Quarry Bank’ on a number of occasions and always found it thoroughly enjoyable. Wandering around the ‘Apprentice House’ on a guided tour gave us a sense of life in the early 1800’s before strict rules were introduced to protect the wellbeing of children. The owner of the mill treated his young workers significantly better than most and they were always well fed, but the lack of sunlight, the fine fibres and dust from the cotton, injuries from the machinery and long working hours certainly took their toll.

Life was hard but parents were desperate to get their children to work in these mills because they were taught basic literacy, even the girls, as part of their apprenticeship. If you were lucky enough to stay until you were eighteen your skills were highly acclaimed and there would be a ‘job for life’ either at Quarry Bank or any of the other cotton mills dotted around Lancashire.Thankfully times have changed!

Chatting to my friends as we put the world to rights made for an enjoyable day! We had similar upbringings and outlooks on life. However, being such good friends also allowed for occasional differences of opinion and these were respected and tactfully handled so as not to offend. Brexit was off the agenda! Thankfully! We now have an extension until the end of October so the debacle will go on and on and on …….

The sun is shining today. I need to get into the garden and get rid of the weeds before the ground cover, trees and shrubs take over. Oh the joy of being in control of my time and not have to leave everything for the weekend and hope for decent weather! I will never tire of this luxury! 👠

We landed, flying through the same moist grey skies we thought (and hoped!) we had left behind! But there was a difference. It was significantly warmer!

Within a few hours we had sped along the motorway in a private taxi, been shown around the beautiful Reid’s hotel and settled into our room, overlooking the small harbour. Two huge cruise ships had docked and we were warned that Funchal would be very busy.

Funchal was very busy! The long walk down a winding road leading from the hotel stretched our legs and the mass of people filling the pavement coffee shops and bars made little difference to the colourful and exciting sights and sounds of this pretty little island 🌴. A huge hotel was under construction. The usual timeshare representatives offering ‘not to be missed’ special offers for ‘just a couple of hours of your valuable time’ was a slight irritation but we soon learned to rebuff or ignore.

Fitbit went to sleep happy that night and for the following four nights as my step count exceeded twenty thousand every day! We arranged two walks and hired a car for two days. And we walked and walked, every day, whether it was alongside ‘levadas’, up and down ridiculously steep Funchal streets or wandering around public gardens, museums and all the many places of interest Madeira has to offer!

And then I hurt my hip and caught a very bad cold! Everything was going so well and I was feeling great! The hip was the start. I climbed into a cable car, facing the wrong way. I turned around to watch the ride up the mountain and sat in that position for a about half an hour. The cable car slowed down but didn’t stop so I needed to step off smartly and with confidence. I could do that! But embarrassingly I couldn’t stand on my right leg! Luckily my husband alighted first so caught me as I fell unceremoniously into his arms.

There followed a painful walk around a lovely park and garden until the spasm in my hip gradually subsided. We decided to walk back to the hotel, which had been the plan over breakfast. We didn’t realise how steep the little streets were so the ‘easy’ stroll back to the hotel wasn’t ‘easy’ at all! Luckily my husband came to the rescue once more. My knees, old war wounds from the climb down Ben Nevis a few years ago, were not happy! Out came two bandages which made good knee straps and, with what can only be described as a crab-like gait, I survived the walk down the mountain to sit on the balcony outside our room hugging a cup of tea, glad to be back ‘home’.

It went downhill from there. The following morning we had arranged a 13.5 kilometre ‘levada’ walk. This is the irrigation system used in Madeira and you can follow these mini canals for miles up and down their mountains. The difficulty level was moderate. Not a problem. So I thought, until I awoke in the early hours of Friday morning feeling like a truck had driven over my chest! Every breath caused pain and I had a splitting headache. I had the flu jab in October so this surely couldn’t be flu? I tried the usual. Forget about it and it’ll go away!

Alas, a few hours later, staying in bed seemed the best option by far! When I tried to get up I couldn’t stand on my right leg and my laboured breathing made me sound like Darth Vader! My husband was still asleep, oblivious of a crippled old woman trying to get to the bathroom. I needed to take pain pills ASAP but had to eat something first. In the ‘welcome’ fruit basket was an old tangerine and an apple, both not very appetising. I peeled the tangerine, ate the few edible pieces and gulped down two tablets with the help of an ice cold bottle of apple juice.

And that got me through the next few hours! I took two more tablets five hours later, got back to the hotel early evening, had a hot bath, a pizza and went to bed! What joy! No bed had ever felt better!

The next two days I sat in a car watching the world go by, a large box of tissues and bottles of water strategically placed on the back seat, at my feet and on my lap. I felt very sorry for myself and even sorrier for my poor long-suffering husband as I shared my pain and discomfort every time we drove up and down mountains and my ears ‘popped’! Oh, the pain ….. 😩

But, life goes on. I survived. We’re back home and expecting a visit from good friends we haven’t seen for a couple of years. Nothing lasts forever, not the good nor the bad …….👠

I hate packing for holidays. I really haven’t a clue what the take with me. My husband tells me it’s because I have too much choice. He could be right but I’m not letting him know that!

Were going to Madeira for a week. Part of the time will be taken up with some ‘serious’ walking so those clothes are easiest to pack. The rest of the week will be wandering around Funchal, sightseeing and tasting different ports and sherries. That’s the challenge!

All my sandals are in the loft. My summer ‘holiday clothes’ (these are years old so I’m not being pretentious!) are in plastic containers, also in the loft. We are staying at a fancy hotel (Reid’s, now I am being pretentious but we got a good deal!), so need to look respectable, especially in the evenings.

So, I have four different types of clothes I need to pack, hiking, casual, semi-casual and smart! A challenge for anyone, but for me, it’s like climbing Ben Nevis! I’ve done that too so am speaking from experience! I always thought that, once I was a ‘Lady of Leisure’ I’d have time to pack properly and would eventually become an expert! I could write about it in my blog and help anyone who might have inherited the same debilitating gene as I obviously have! Alas, this isn’t going to happen!

I looked at the weather forecast for Madeira for next week. What a disappointment! It’s the same as ours! That should make packing easier. No need for summer clothes or sandals but not cold enough for boots and fur jackets.

So, I go back to the drawing board. I pack a few pairs of smart jeans, trousers and shirts. I throw in a few jackets and that will be the smart, smart casual and casual. My hiking clothes are already in the suitcase. Life is too short to waste doing a tedious chore and one that I seldom get right anyway!

I’m as ready as I’ll ever be! I surreptitiously place my toiletries bag next to my husband’s suitcase as it’s heavy and this is what I do! His suitcase is always lighter than mine. Something he also finds hard to understand because his clothes and shoes are heavier. I just have a lot more ‘choice’ rammed into mine! Not rocket science!

I’m ready for the taxi in the morning. The alarm clock is set, the newspapers cancelled, my mother has enough money for her hairdos and excursions and our neighbours have been asked to put out our wheelie bin.

Roll on Madeira!👠

I had a stressful job. I used to wake up at night, in a cold sweat, worrying about work. I became a ‘Lady of Leisure’ last June so have had nine months without work related stress.

My ‘bewitching’ hour had always between 1:00 am and 2:00 am. I would sometimes hear the grandfather clock strike one but always two. Most nights, if I was awake longer than an hour, I’d get up and feel my way down the stairs and into the kitchen. I’ve heard that almonds aid sleep so would have a mug of hot milk, a handful of almonds and sit in front of the television. At that ‘bewitching’ hour the choice of programmes was very limited. It was either ‘The Walton’s’ , or ‘Little House on the Prairie’. The films were never my ‘cup of tea’ and the news programmes depressing!

I needed to watch something innocuous so that I could turn my overactive brain off and try to relax. Other than a current work related problem, being a manager also meant that I would sometimes have my colleagues to worry about as well!

But the other night I found myself sitting in the television room nursing a mug of hot milk and munching almonds. The reason for this insomnia was ridiculous! I had made a list of things to do before the summer and this list had resulted in a recurrence of my ‘bewitching hour stress syndrome’!

I sat staring at the culprit as I sipped the warm milk. Paint the fence, paint the two benches (colour to be decided!) scrape the moss off the roof of the ‘teak house’ at the bottom of the garden. Power wash the paving, plant the hanging baskets, deep clean and treat the ‘soft top’ of my car. Get husband to make wooden boxes and plant lettuce and tomatoes, re-pot herbs, get and paint large tubs for the front of the house (colour to be decided!). I had twenty two items on my list.

The clock struck 3:00 am. I sat with one eye on ‘The Walton’s ‘ and another, pen poised, about to add even more items to the list.

And then, out of the blue, common sense prevailed, forcing it’s way through the chaos and turmoil that ‘spring cleaning’ had inflicted on my still fragile brain. With a flourish it took control! My hands found themselves screwing up the piece of paper and flinging it on to the floor!

I sat staring at this piece of paper for a while, not quite believing what I had done! My first thought was to retrieve it, but, surprisingly, I left it alone! A few minutes later I turned off the television, switched off the light and blindly made my way up the stairs!

I was cold and so was my side of the bed. It took a while to feel the circulation returning to my feet but I didn’t hear the 4:00 pm chime so did finally drift off into a dream-filled sleep!

I suppose habit dies hard. I had become so used to worrying about something and have had a huge concern regarding members of my immediate family, as shared in a previous blog. My brain is wired in ‘worry’ mode so will take a significant amount of conscious effort to get it ‘re-wired’.

But I’m on the case! Step one was screwing up the paper. Step two was going downstairs the next morning and throwing it in the bin. There will always be hurdles to clear. It’s called life. I just have to face them and get over them without dragging a load of negativity and debilitating baggage with me! The secret is to lighten the load by removing the ‘small stuff’ and not worrying about the things I can’t change.

That’s come from the sensible, logical smaller part of my brain! It needs to take over! My challenge for 2019 and beyond! I’ll keep you posted. 👠

I am a lady of a certain age. I look after my body. I exercise regularly, eat healthily and only have wine with my meals over weekends. Okay, so I also have one or two G&T’s but that is also only at weekends!

I look after my skin and have spent a significant amount of my hard earned cash on face creams and treatments. I’m not gullible when it comes to advertisements unless they promise to eradicate wrinkles and restore youthful elasticity!

When I was not a ‘Lady of Leisure’ I worked my way through all the top brands. I bought these magic potions, duty free when travelling or in the United States (always cheaper!), when we visited our family. I built up an impressive collection of samples and free gifts so my daughter and daughter-in-law also benefitted from my extravagances. They never complained!

Whenever I received compliments about my skin I could justify the expense. I never suffered from spots, only occasional allergic reactions. When working I was significantly more stressed and survived on just a few hours sleep. I am now much more physically active and my sleep patterns have improved!

When I stopped earning a salary I did cut back on the top brands as my husband’s mantra that my mother had only ever used soap, water and Olay needed to be tested! Her skin is beautiful. Perhaps I could have inherited some good genes and didn’t need to one day choose between a tub of face cream and a slice of bread!

So I lowered my expectations and bought a cheaper brand of day, night, eye cream and serum. Every day I carefully scrutinised my face, peering into a magnifying mirror, wearing my reading glasses. It didn’t take long to notice the difference! I had developed dry patches and some discolouration on one of my cheeks. That was all I needed to prove my husband wrong! I shared these blemishes with him before heading off to the shops to restock my bathroom cupboard! I had made my choice! It was going to be the tub of face cream!

So why have I now suddenly developed teenage acne?

I have tried everything. I have once more changed my face creams. I have even gone so far as to adjust my diet, drink even more water and changed the foundation I have used for years! I have an impressive array of face cleansers and added regular exfoliations, scrubs and face packs to my weekly routine. I have left no stone unturned.

So, out of desperation I have made an appointment with a skin clinic. I had to explain that I was a post menopausal acne sufferer. So embarrassing! So annoying!

I’m aware that I’m sweating the small stuff! There are so many people worse off than me. But I need to get it sorted! Perhaps I should start using soap, water and buy a bottle of Olay…… Maybe then I could look forward to bread and jam in my old age! 👠

Last week my brother came to visit his mother. It was a Wednesday and my friend and I had given the morning exercise class. I was told when I got there that Mum wasn’t well and they had put her to bed. When I checked up on her she was fast asleep.

After the exercise class I saw the manager who explained that Mum had a stomach bug but they were keeping a close eye on her. It was too late to let my brother know and he arrived for lunch but decided not to visit. He didn’t want to risk catching her ‘lurgi’!

I visited the next day and Mum was up and in the communal sitting room watching one of the old war movies. The care home must have masses of these DVD’s stashed away! Or else it’s the same one and I see different sections or, heaven forbid, have forgotten what I saw the previous week!

But this visit was different. Mum’s eyes didn’t light up when she saw me. I didn’t even notice a flicker of recognition. I greeted Mum with my usual hug and kiss and asked how she was doing. I got no reply, just a blank stare. I tried talking to her but it didn’t seem as if she was able to hear me.

A senior carer walked past and I asked if it was possible to book a doctor’s appointment (a doctor visits the care home once a week) so that she could have her ears checked. She made a note on her hand (this seems to be the official way when out of the office!) and I went back to Mum.

I read her two children’s stories, Sleeping Beauty and Goldilocks. I doubt Mum took any notice but a few of the residents sitting close by showed some interest so I persevered! I didn’t stay longer than half an hour and left, feeling a lot sadder than when I had arrived!

I know that the time will come when Mum won’t recognise me. I also know that she is not going to get better. Over the years I have mourned the loss of a mother and a dear friend and finally accepted the inevitable. But the ghost-like frail, grey haired old lady sitting next to me I found unnerving. Mum has a beautiful skin but it had looked almost transparent. The watery February sun shining through the window had cast a shadow over her dark brown lifeless eyes. She had sat motionless throughout my visit.

So that was how I had left her last Thursday. I made regular phone calls over the weekend from Leeds where we were visiting my Mother-in-law. I went back to the care home on Monday. Mum recognised me and was more attentive but there has definitely been another regression. She goes down in levels and then seems to plateau for a while. I believe this is normal, if there can be anything normal about dementia!

But life goes on. The sun has gone back into hiding and February’s cold, dank weather has returned. All good things come to an end! Alas! 👠

I’ve heard and seen a woodpecker! I know it’s not the official sign that Spring is waiting just around the corner, but it’s worked for me each year! And this year it’s two weeks early!

We have had a mild winter despite the dire warnings in November that we were moving into a period of extreme weather. Not one to cast aspersions on the experts but our weather forecasts are seldom accurate, especially the longer term ones (greater than one day!). Not having to work and knowing that my husband would be retiring around the end of January I was looking forward to sitting next to a roaring fire. I would watch the snow falling without the stress of having to get up our hill early the next morning. The younger generation always waited for us to clear a path for their four wheeled drives and would then follow on behind us! I am not being ageist. This has been a proven fact for the last seventeen years!

So, alas, we have not had the promised snow and minus temperatures but an extremely mild winter. All the bugs we hoped would get wiped out are alive and well! The slugs, snails and mosquitoes are just waiting to escape their cozy hibernation to terrorise me and my garden when the days grow longer and brighter.

I went for a walk with a friend yesterday. We reminded ourselves that it was only the middle of February and the snow drops and daffodils on higher ground were all in full bloom. We even have a red currant tree in our garden that we should have pruned in autumn which is now already covered in blossoms. As the ‘glass half empty’ person, I reminded my friend that it’s still not too late for the arctic weather to arrive and wipe out these early signs of spring!

It was March a few years ago that I left the office early one Friday afternoon. We were having new carpets laid and needed to get all the desks and computers out in time for the fitters to arrive at 5:00 pm. I decided to do the weekly grocery shopping as the predicted bad weather hadn’t arrived. I left my briefcase in the boot of the car together with my mobile phone.

The first flakes of snow were falling as I loaded the car and set off home. I crossed the motorway, and headed up into the countryside. The snow had begun to fall think and fast in huge flakes and I was finding it difficult to see my way along the narrow country roads. As I reached the top of a small hill I noticed a number of cars had stopped, their bright red break lights etched against the now black sky.

I slowed down then tried to stop. My car carried on sliding. I could feel my heart pounding and, with eyes the size of saucers, waited for the inevitable thud as I crashed into the car in front. I was lucky. I slid to a halt inches away from its bumper. I opened my window as a man came over to my car. ‘You’ll never get down that hill! My Range Rover has stuck half way. Best to turn around and head back onto the motorway. All the back roads will be shut’.

I retrieved my mobile phone from the boot of the car and noticed about ten missed calls from my husband. He had been warning me for the last few hours to get home!

I did eventually! Many hours later. I had to dump my car in the village and walk home, in my once beautiful suede boots! Carrying my briefcase and struggling through many inches of snow in high heels was no mean feat! The groceries were fine! They froze overnight!

That is why we aren’t out of the winter woods yet! From that day to this I carry my phone with me wherever I go! I am always contactable no matter where I am or what I am doing! So, I still might be able to sit next to a roaring fire watching snow flakes falling gently outside. I won’t stress that I have to get up early the next morning to clear the hill! This challenge will now be left to the young ones! The exercise will do them good!👠