Jenny Burrell

In October we arrived back froom our holiday in Australia to discover that our deep freeze had broken down. We keep our freezer full. Everything was rotten and the smell was awful. Unfortunately it wasn’t only the freezer that was no longer working. The deep freeze had tripped a switch which serviced our fridge as well.

The deep freeze was in the garage, which was a bonus as it had caused a serious olfactory challenge! The fridge in the utility room was almost empty but it was black with mould which took a lot of scrubbing to remove. I still have an open bowl of bicarbonate of soda on a shelf to keep any residue smells at bay.

So my husband ordered a new freezer. A Miele. It was not cheep but apparently could cope with -C temperatures in the garage. The insurance paid out for the food loss but not the freezer. It was over thirty years old! We soon got the new freezer up to full capacity and life returned to normal. That was until three months later when our all singing all dancing Miele stopped. Dead. Never to go again.

My husband contacted the store where he had bought this highly rated deep freeze with an almost life time guarantee. It would certainly outlast us! The retailer told him that the contract was with Miele and they’d contact them. We managed, with the help of kind neighbours, to find homes for all our frozen food.

A week later we were still waiting for someone to contact us from Miele. Getting really frustrated my husband called an electrician who came out a few days later but, when we mentioned the guarantee, he wouldn’t touch it. Said it would invalidate the warranty so we were back to square one. My husband went back to the store for an update. There wasn’t one! Getting the phone number to contact Miele directly he impatiently spent an afternoon trying to speak to a human being. Everything does come to those who wait and he was given a date when an engineer would visit, three weeks later!

Feeling bad about asking neighbours to store our food there was no way that I was going to make a nuisance of myself by constantly knocking on their door to take food out of their freezers. This meant that menus had to be planned in advance and our weekly shop became much more precise. Manageable but not ideal!

Three weeks later the Miele engineer graced us with his presence. We had been without a freezer for a month. I was naive to think that he would exchange our broken one for a new one! A dodgy thermostat switch was the verdict. A replacement would have to be ordered from Germany. This could take up to four days.

Another week passed and we still hadn’t received a return date from Miele. I’d had enough! I rang the store. I told them that it was close to six weeks living without a freezer. I was going to cancel the credit card payment and buy a new one. It would be up to the store to resolve the issue with their bank. Louise, the women in the repairs and exchange department, appeared to be very understanding and apologetic. By now it was too little too late. She asked for an hour’s grace so that she could speak to her manager.

Within the hour I got a call back. Miele would return with the part in two week’s time. Louise’s manager offered a £200 cash discount if we would wait. That would be two months without a freezer! That same afternoon we bought another deep freeze, £300 cheaper than the Miele but with the same guarantees. It arrived within a couple of days.

So we had two deep freezers in our garage for another week before the store collected their useless Miele. When writing this we hadn’t received a refund but hopefully that will be winging its way to us within the next few days. It wasn’t the store’s fault that Miele were so useless but it’s not our fault either. And the customer is always king, or used to be in the good old days! Companies once cared about us and showed pride in their products, workmanship and their good names!

And no, I’m not going to blame covid! That excuse has passed its sell by date! 👠

For the last few months I have been going to a Zumba class. The first few classes I found very difficult but persevered because I thought that I’d soon be rhythmically pounding the floorboards like a pro!

My first class was a revelation! I was relatively confident that I would manage fairly easily to get the basic steps. Two instructors stood in the front of the hall. I decided to stand at the back of the class to familiarise myself with the routines. All I could see were two psychedelic bright green trainers moving with great speed. They were periodically blocked from view by a women leaping around with gay abandon, obviously not a novice. I needed to get closer to the front but didn’t want anyone to see me. I soon realised that I was useless. And it surprised me how utterly useless I was!

Walking home after that first class I felt very despondent. I hadn’t realised how intricate the steps would be and the speed at which my feet had to move! I had kept missing steps then trying to improvise to catch up. There was no way I could learn the dances with only partial view of the instructors. I had to bite the bullet and stand in the front. Perhaps then it would suddenly click!

So, lesson number two found me right in the front row. That was a brave move as I’d taken a huge gamble that I’d suddenly get all the steps right. I focussed on those two psychedelic green trainers. My eyes never wavered and my concentration was great! I could do this! After the warm up and the first dance I decided to ignore the arm movements and only worry about my feet. I let my arms just flap around, moving to their own rhythm.

There were no verbal instructions, only hand movements to give me a clue as to what came next. That meant that I had to learn the hand movements to preempt what those psychedelic trainers were going to do. Alas, that soon became a useless exercise. The hand movements for a merengue, salsa, cha-cha and reggaeton are all different. Then there was the soca, hip-hop, bellydance and Bhangra steps to name but a few more! There are sixteen basic Zumba steps. How long would it take me to learn the feet as well as the hand movements? The routines changed with every song. I was fast becoming more and more confused. I decided to revert back to my original plan and just look at the feet. Zumba certainly was not for the faint-hearted!

The music was loud! My watch transmits sound volumes to my phone which later warns me that I am being exposed to significantly higher intensity of environmental sound levels than advised. This could make me go deaf in my other ear! Perhaps Zumba classes should come with a health warning!

The music was very different to the kind that I usually enjoyed. The classes are based on all sorts of Latin music with versions of salsa, merengue, Cumbria and reggaeton. There are four basic rhythms, each one having four basic steps. Some of the moves are quirky which still causes added confusion!

Walking to the first class I had pictured myself feet and hand perfect! I would move like a pro, leaping around the dance floor! Soon my lithe, slim Zumba body would be toned. My bright Sweaty Betty tights would become a blurred vision as I sashayed, salsased and bellydanced at great speed, feet and arm perfect, easily keeping up with the youths!

Alas, I soon realised that was never going to happen. I am a few months down the line. I still stand in the front row, eyes glued to those two psychedelic green trainers, arm still flailing by my side. I still look nothing like a pro! But I so enjoy the challenge, the music and the dance moves. I escape into my own little world. I leap around the dance floor, sometimes getting the steps right, often not. I don’t care. I shall forever live in hope that one day it’ll click.

Perhaps one day that old lady in the front row of the Zumba class will remember all the routines and both feet and arms will move in unison! If that day ever comes you’ll be the first to know!👠

I am sure that time moves faster the older I get! I don’t remember ever going to bed on Monday night and waking up on Friday morning when I was younger! One would have thought that being at school or working would make time pass quickly because you are kept busy. But I’m retired now. I have time to do everything I’ve ever wanted! I start with good intentions on a Monday morning and then realise that’s it’s Friday evening with little or nothing achieved!

I know this sounds dramatic but I can’t believe that we’re at the end of January 2024 already! Thinking back over the last year I try to remember some of the highlights. We went on a Danube river cruise in March for eight days. It was bitterly cold, that’s my main memory, but different and enjoyable.

We visited my son and his family in Boston. To celebrate my husband and my ‘special’ birthdays we took the family to New York for a few days! That was definitely a highlight. My son, husband and I hired a motor home and travelled around Yellowstone National Park. Also very special and filled with happy memories.

My husband, daughter, her family and I went to Australia for three weeks in October. This was also as a celebration of my husband and my ‘special’ birthday. We stayed with my sister and brother in law who planned a trip to the Great Barrier Reef, the Gold Coast and a number of day trips in and around Brisbane. Definitely a holiday to remember with many highlights. Meeting our extended family was such a pleasure and a wonderful time was had by all.

We see my daughter and her family, who live in Scotland, every month. I really enjoy these regular visits and love seeing other parts of our beautiful country. I’ve exercised, seen friends, written poems, prose and stories for a folk club I belong to. I’ve published blogs, albeit not as regularly as I used to!

As I’m writing this I’m beginning to feel that I should take a step back before making any sweeping statements about not achieving anything from one week to the next! If I look through my diary over the last year it’s filled with daily activities. When I take panic out of the equation and stop fretting about time passing by so quickly, maybe it is because I am filling my days. Perhaps I’ve just slowed down and everything takes a bit longer? That’s my glass half empty putting its oar in! Hopefully I’ll never slow down ……..

I’m trying to put a positive slant on my concern. Doing some research and speaking to friends and family, the speed at which time is passing seems to be a common theme. Part of the current problem for me is looking forward to, for example, spring, so wishing the winter months away. This can be said for anything fun planned, weekends with family, meals with friends, special outings, holidays.

Living in the moment is a current mantra bandied about. Before dismissing it out of hand, maybe I should give it some thought. Instead of waking up every morning, looking outside and wishing that winter would soon make way for spring, perhaps I should be grateful for each new day.

I’m sounding patronising but that’s not my intention. Taking each day as it comes and trying to find enjoyment in feeling healthy and grateful for what I have, is nothing new. Through the years I’ve had a number of health scares and experienced a lot of family heartaches. I’m not alone. It’s part of the tapestry of life. None of us are immune to tragedy, fear or even bouts of depression. I’m currently going through a very worrying time with a close member of my family. It’s out of my control and I can’t do anything about it but I can’t just turn it off either. It’s at the back of my mind all the time but I have to remain positive and hopeful that everything will be fine.

Right now it’s really important for me to take one day at a time. I’ve even had to narrow that down to taking one step at a time when life has got particularly difficult. So, even if, for the next few weeks, I feel as if I’ve not achieved anything, I’m going to change my criteria. If I’ve done my exercise routines, met with friends, posted a blog, written a poem and story for the folk club and completed all my chores, I’ll have achieved a lot!

To clear away the cobwebs nothing beats going for a walk in the country lanes outside my home. Something else to be grateful for! So, today has been good! Tomorrow could be better!👠

I’m sitting in a chair soaking up the warm sunshine in Brisbane, Australia. Not my usual way to spend a Monday. I’m on holiday with my daughter and her family staying with my sister and her husband. This is my third day here but the first where we have decided to stay at home and relax.

I usually plan my days, never enjoying having a blank page. I’m not a control freak, I just hate wasting time. No day dawns when I haven’t at least got some idea of how I’m going to spend it. My diary is never empty. This was one of my greatest fears when retiring. My worst nightmare was waking up with absolutely nothing to do! I’m sure I could always find something, like housework, but that would never suffice. How could I fill my days with anything as mundane and boring! I’d rather carry on working for the rest of my natural life!

So here I am, mid afternoon with nothing to do. I’ve got no energy and feel absolutely exhausted! I have only managed to do half an hour’s exercise with my daughter this morning which was a spur of the moment decision. I’ve had breakfast, coffees, water, lunch and swept the floor. My sister’s son and his young family visited which resulted in a couple of hours of mental stimulation but not much physical activity. Catching up on family news and meeting three new great nephew and nieces was great and a good time was had by all.

Luckily I was kept busy this morning. I am thankful that I haven’t wasted a whole day, but have the afternoon to twiddle my thumbs.That said, I’m not really bothered. The swimming pool is glistening in the sunshine, cool and inviting. I could change into my swimming costume and wallow for half an hour. That’s an option.

I carry on sitting in the chair, contemplating what I feel like doing, trying hard to feel guilty about doing absolutely nothing! Consciously I lean back and stretch out my legs. Subconsciously my brain slows down, I close my eyes and drift off ………

‘The sun has gone over the yardarm! Time for a G&T!’ My sister’s voice startles me and I sit up, guiltily trying to pretend that I hadn’t been asleep. I glance down at my watch. It’s almost six o’clock and the sun is sinking behind the trees. It’s still hot but a welcome breeze wafts over me.

‘Had a good sleep,’ my sister asks?’ You’d still be jet lagged so nothing to feel ashamed of. And you’re on holiday!’

‘I’ll take that,’ I reply. ‘My standards for daily exercising has been lowered significantly for the next three weeks but I don’t want to waste anymore days doing nothing. I’ll ponder over tomorrow when I have my G&T!’

Later that evening we sit around the dinner table deciding on places to visit. It took us twenty three hours to get here so want to see as much of Australia as practically possible.

My lazy afternoon was a one off but it surprised me how much I actually enjoyed it!👠

Christmas to me means a lot of things, not all good. I can tick the boxes for family fall-outs, dinner disasters and lower expectations. All the hype and buildup starting earlier each year is annoying. The true meaning of Christmas has been diminishing as the woke culture gains control. It’s gradually become a non religious, money making, debt inducing celebration of excess and greed! Bah humbug!

I have also had the best Christmases ever when my whole family were together. Those were such special days and now the cherished memories are revisited, time and time again.

I had become a bit of a Christmas Scrooge. Because I really dislike shopping my cop-out gifts were always vouchers. Writing and sending Christmas cards was a real chore. I never worried about the price so took little notice of last dates for second class stamps. It was always a rush just to write and post in time for Christmas Day! I ignored my husband asinine comments reminding me how much first class stamps cost. I’m deaf in one ear so it’s easy to turn it.

But this year I feel different. I’m going to share an embarrassing secret with you. I have always been an avid news watcher and felt deprived if I couldn’t have regular updates. One of the first things I’d do on holiday would be to set the television up for the BBC news channel. I needed to get my fix of all the world’s problems, wars, famine and disasters.

I was beginning to feel bogged down and depressed. Every night I would listen to the ten o’clock news. It had become a ritual. I would turn the television off after the weather forecast, often equally depressing! I became an expert on the Ukraine war, often lying awake at night wondering when Putin would finally ‘lose it’ and push that nuclear button. I felt so sorry for the poor, innocent people just wanting to go about their day to day business. I watched floods, volcanic eruptions, one disaster after another and wondered when the pendulum would swing towards my family and friends.

Flicking through the channels one evening I watched a Christmas film. Little concentration required, just a feel good movie with a touch of romance. The Christmas decorations looked wonderful. Homes and shops around this fantasy village were covered in bright lights and snow fell, white and sparkling. It was the Christmas card variety, no mud or slush, a wonderful winter wonderland! Christmas traditions were rigidly adhered to. It looked perfect!

For an hour I leaned back and escaped my current, miserable life. Wars, famine, disasters all lay buried beneath this make believe land where life was good and decent and simple. Family and friends cared for each other. There was a nativity play reminding them of the true meaning of Christmas. Christmas carols featured throughout so found myself happily humming along to the tunes. Eventually, after watching a few of these films in the evenings, I began to look forward to my own Christmas.

However, I must stress that these films are definitely not for everyone. Fortunately we have two televisions in our house. There would be no way my husband could ever sit through one of them. Utter mindless, senseless, drivel would be his polite comment. Without action packed, blood, guts and gore, there would be no point in wasting his precious time!

I’ve not permanently moved into a fantasy world, but I have significantly restricted my viewing of the news. I still get regular updates on my phone and feel saddened to hear about innocent loss of lives and natural or man made disasters, but I have found an escape route.

Even though we won’t be home for Christmas this year I have embraced it. Trees have been decorated and our house is looking quite festive. In years gone by, if we were going to be away, I wouldn’t have bothered doing anything. I never get tired of singing Christmas carols. I’m not sure what I’ll do after Christmas when everything has been packed away and winter, with its bleak and icy chill, replaces the bright, festive lights.

But, for now, I’m revelling in the sights, sounds and smells of this glorious time of year and taking each day as it comes! I’ll cross the post Christmas bridge only when I have to 👠

I like my creature comforts.

We had family caravan holidays for many years growing up. There was no electricity or running water so used candles and fetched water in bottles for cooking and cleaning. The accommodation was very basic. We either had barbecues or one pot meals cooked on a single gas flame.

So, when my son suggested hiring a recreation vehicle (an RV) I wasn’t very enthusiastic. I know times have changed and they come with showers and toilets, electricity and running water but I still had my doubts! At least with a caravan you could unhitch it from the car and explore. With an RV you have to lug your home around with you!

My son’s enthusiasm did eventually rub off on me. My husband liked the idea so I could either miss out on spending quality time with them or bite the bullet and join the intrepid travellers. That bullet was hard to bite but I bit it!

We flew from Boston to Bozeman in Montana. Five hours later we were introduced to what we thought would be our home for the next four days. It was immaculate and still had that ‘new’ smell. The manager asked if we could wait until another family arrived so that we could go through the instructions together. An hour later the family joined us. I wasn’t impressed especially when the manager told us that the RV I had already bonded with was theirs. Ours was outside in the sun, baking hot!

Finally we loaded up our luggage and set off to the supermarket where we had placed our order for collection. We drove past fields of cannabis which filled the air with a strange, pungent aroma. It’s legal in Montana so freely available. Our camp site was three hours away. We arrived at the entrance to Yellowstone National Park after about an hour. We had to slow right down to adhere to the speed limit so immediately were on the lookout for wild animals! I sat at the back peering through the centre of the windscreen and had clear vision on both sides. I stretched out my legs and relaxed settling down to enjoy the drive and looked forward to the next few days.

We saw a family of bears in the distance and pulled over for photos. My son reminded us that we each had a can of bear spray to take on our hikes so would be safe. This worried me. They looked huge and had cubs so would be even more dangerous. However, I didn’t want to dwell on the negatives so soon relaxed again. We stopped to watch bison peacefully grazing alongside the road. They were powerful beasts so, once more, happy to be sitting safely inside our RV! It didn’t prevent me from having another panic attack and wondering how many people had been killed by bears, bison, snakes, moose or any other wild animals over the last year. Made a mental note to google that night.

Reaching our campsite in the dark we climbed out of the RV, stiff from hours of inactivity. I inhaled sharply. It was really cold. This was August, their summer, the same as ours! But we were 8,000 feet above sea level, up in the mountains, so should have expected a drop in temperature. We were all ravenous and looking forward to a hot meal.

It was when I opened the door into the bathroom that an awful smell hit me! The toilet was filthy! Obviously it hadn’t been flushed, never mind cleaned! I was horrified! The smell was enough to put us all off our supper but it got worse! We had ordered mince to make a quick chilli but none had arrived! We hadn’t had time to check our order at the supermarket because we were so late. We just presumed that all supermarkets sold mince!

My son had a menu for our four nights away so we moved on to the following night’s one. He made us tacos. The men had a beer and I had a glass of wine. We soon began to feel better but ready for a good night’s sleep. It had been a long day! This was a very basic campsite. The shower in the RV was tiny and the toilet had that unfortunate aroma. We had flushed and tried to clean it with what he had in the RV but made the decision to drive to the shower and laundry facility. It was a couple of miles away so had to pack up the RV and take our house with us. Not ideal!

When we got there the place was in darkness. Checking the notice board we saw that it closed at 10:00 pm. It was 10:10, ten minutes late! The men showered in the RV. I washed in the kitchen sink. I couldn’t face going into the bathroom. Luckily we weren’t too far away from the toilets so that was one blessing.

There were signs telling us not to leave food out to encourage bears. A number of tents were dotted around the campsite with their guide lines and tent pegs quite a distance away from the tents. It was an obstacle course going to the toilet with the added danger of meeting a marauding bear along the way! I kept on asking myself why I was there? Did I have a death wish?

Finally we were ready for bed. We found two sets of sheets but no blankets. The RV was warm so we weren’t too bothered. My son climbed up the ladder and pushed the roof open to make his bed. It was like a tent and significantly cooler than downstairs. We closed the blinds and darkness descended on three exhausted people. I eventually drifted off to sleep.

I was woken up by a noise and the bright light of a torch. I saw my son scratching around for something in his bag and asked if all was ok.

‘I’m freezing, Mom,’ he replied. ‘It’s like a fridge up there! I’m putting on layers to try and get some sleep. I’m sure we should have had blankets! I saw a load of them on some shelves at the hire company.’

We had air conditioning so he tried to set it, hoping that, as hot air rises, it would drift up into his tent. Alas, it didn’t! At 4:00 am he sent an email to the manager complaining bitterly about the state of the toilet and lack of blankets. The next morning we weren’t able to make coffee because the microwave and hob didn’t work. We had no electricity. By 8:00 am he was ringing the manager insisting that they either send another RV or someone to sort out all the problems.

Many phone calls later we managed to get a cleaning tablet to clear the toilet, but it remained smelly. We bought blankets, and got the electricity to work. My son was really annoyed as he had wanted this holiday to be really special. He finally spoke to the owner of the company who charged us half price for the four days and we had another promise of a half price holiday next year.

So, did I enjoy that trip ? Actually, a lot more than being in a caravan but still prefer my home comforts. It’s the company which I really enjoyed and our hikes and seeing the animals, primarily from afar! We carried our bear spray and made as much noise as possible to keep all the wild animals at bay. We saw Old Faithful very early one bitterly cold morning. Yet again I hadn’t packed the right clothing!

My standards plummeted. I hardly wore any makeup and gave up on my hair. I sat in the back seat, relaxing as I watched the world go by. We couldn’t find any mince in the local stores so ate sausages for the next few evenings. We laughed a lot and really enjoyed each other’s company. I’m feeling less anxious about next year’s holiday. We’re wiser now and will ensure that everything is how it should be before we head off into the great unknown!

I’ll also make sure that I pack suitable clothing and will scrutinise the RV before we leave. A decision has already been made to get a bigger one so we’ll be less cramped and my son won’t have to climb up into the roof. The grocery order will be checked. Our campsite won’t be as basic so electricity and running water will be readily available.

That’s everything covered. Next year’s holiday should be a doddle!👠

Finally the day dawned on my ‘special’ birthday. I lay in bed and heard what sounded like cockatoos squawking. It took a while before I remembered where I was. Then it hit me, I was finally in Cairns, a few hours away from catching a catamaran to go snorkelling.

To most people that would sound like great fun and very exciting. But I’m not like most people! I hear you ask what problem or concern I could have had! What could possibly be intimidating or frightening about such an exiting trip in the warm sunshine looking at amazing coloured fish swimming around beautiful coral reefs!

Well, for a start, I’d never snorkelled. My husband had been given a snorkel by our son for his birthday. He had practised in their swimming pool. Bringing it with him to Australia he had snorkelled in my sister’s swimming pool as well. Happy that he had mastered the art he, together with the rest of my family who had all snorkelled before, had been counting down the days.

Initially I had decided that, because it was my birthday, I could do what I liked. Snorkelling was never something on my bucket list. However, I did imagine lazing in the sun on a deck chair as the boat sailed lazily along an aquamarine sea. Dolphins would periodically leap out of the water, getting their fix of oxygen and apparently they also find it fun!

We had all flown to Cairns two days before and spent the second day in a cable car swaying gently over and deep into the world’s oldest continually surviving rain forest. It was spectacular! After having lunch at a little village inn we made our way to the station and caught a steam train back down through the forest. All very relaxing but, at the back of my mind, the next day’s challenge had never been far away, niggling in the background.

I had to make a decision. I bought ear plugs as historically I struggled with water in my ears. That was the first step towards making a decision. I hadn’t swum for years. I loved the sea, it’s strength and beauty, but held it in a very healthy respect.

I didn’t sleep that night. My thoughts ranged from slow death by drowning to being saved in the nick of time but left with life changing injuries. There weren’t any positive alternatives feeding into my pessimistic, overactive brain. The next morning I woke up feeling exhausted!

I crept downstairs to hear excited chatter about the day ahead. I felt even worse. I used my limited acting skills to pretend that I had slept well and was ready to embrace the day. Surely, I silently asked myself, I had the right to chose what I wanted to do to celebrate this very depressing birthday. If I didn’t go snorkelling I could either face up to the disappointment shown by some members of my family or displeasure voiced by others. I was left with no choice. I had to bite the bullet and join them.

I packed my bag, did my hair and painted my face. I tidied the room and made the bed. It was time to go. I put my bag in the boot with the other bags and climbed into the car. I didn’t join in any banter. I remember hearing somewhere that drowning was the best way to die. Apparently it’s painless. At least that was something!

We boarded the catamaran. I had a cup of tea and a biscuit. I listened to the instructors and watched as they explained how to use the snorkel. As a lamb led to slaughter I accepted my fate and made my way to the back of the boat. I was given a wet suit, a life jacket (because I had never previously snorkelled), snorkels, goggles and a pair of flippers.

The wet suit was a ‘one size fits all’, cold and damp. Not sure how clean it was but, by that stage, I had passed caring! I actually felt strangely calm. An instructor checked that I was ready to be let loose into the Pacific Ocean and pointed to the back of the boat.

I feel sorry for ducks! It’s incredibly difficult walking in flippers! It’s even harder trying to navigate steps! I eventually fell off the platform and into the sea. A wave caught me and flung me away from the boat and into a swimmer, head down, oblivious to my presence.

I gingerly lowered my face into the water. A shoal of small zebra fish shot past. Automatically breathing through my mouth I slowly propelled myself forward. At first I did breaststroke with my arms and kicked frantically with my feet. It was hard work I but moved away from the boat and closer to a coral bank. It was only when I realised that I could keep afloat and was still a strong swimmer that I relaxed. With my head down, arms at my side and gently moving my legs up and down, I marvelled at the wonderful sights visible only to snorkellers or scuba divers.

The Great Barrier Reef is home to a multitude of fish and coral species. Shoals of beautiful, brightly coloured fish in varying sizes swam beneath me. There are over 450 types of coral and I feasted my eyes on some amazing specimens. At our introductory meeting we were told that, where we were going, sharks were rare and we’d be lucky if we saw one. Luck would not have been the word I’d have used!

So, as you can see, I survived the trip. I did two swims that day. I had leapt right out of my box and, even though I’ll probably never go snorkelling again, am glad that I did! Besides having swollen lips from folding them around the mouthpiece and very stiff calves, I marvelled at sights I could never have imagined. I was relieved when the day was over and we all sat around a table eating wonderful seafood and drinking delicious wine! Now that’s my way of celebrating! 👠

Being part of a family and especially a close family, comes with many advantages. Money can’t buy the special bond between siblings, parents children and grandchildren. This bond is built up over the years, a two way relationship, nurtured and important to all parties.

Relationships change over the years. Children grow into adults with lives of their own. Parents and grandparents grow older, following the natural progression of life. Loved ones die, often resulting in solid family units disintegrating and branching out on their own. Children move in different directions, to other cities, even changing countries and have their own families. Siblings become part of new, extended family units and parents and grandparents often begin to feature less and less as the years go by.

Having children is a blessing. The highs usually far outweigh any challenges. Watching your little one asleep at night, looking like an angel, beautiful in his or her innocence, the day’s troubles are soon forgotten.

Gradually, so that you barely notice, your child develops, moving from infant to toddler. They start school and then become teenagers. Through these years parents have a certain amount of control depending on how strict (or neurotic) they are! College or university loosens the apron strings. This is the time a young adult will feel the full tug of independence and with that comes responsibility. Years of nurturing, advice and discipline have moulded him or her. They make decisions based on what they have learned and seen during their formative years. However, this mold has not yet fully set and still very malleable.

Choices made in early adulthood can have a lasting and often detrimental effect on the rest of their lives. Because no one is an island, the ramifications of bad or wrong decisions, often made thoughtlessly, impulsively or under coercion, can result in family breakdowns and lasting heartbreak. Being headstrong can be both a positive and negative trait but needs to be managed and handled with care.

An example of this is falling in with the wrong crowd or partner.

I feel so sorry for parents not having adult relationships with their children, often through no fault of theirs. Fallouts invariably occur over something insignificant or simply lack of communication. Sadly, there are times when partners are to blame. In coercive, unhealthy relationships families are torn apart. Parents never get to experience the pleasure of spending time with their grown up children . Precious time when new friendships are formed and the hypothetical boundary between parent and child disappears. Deep, lasting friendships can replace the nurturing years. They are so special and should never be taken for granted.

Often, in coercive, unhealthy relationships children never get to meet their grandparents, or aunts, uncles and cousins. Memories made through these early, informative years are so important and can give children a sense of belonging and self worth. Grandparents offer so much to their grandchildren. Their years of experience, their history and their devoted love to their child’s offspring. Treasures that are priceless.

What does it take to mend a broken relationship? The longer the time passes the more difficult it becomes. If an apology is all that’s required, it could mean accepting but not necessarily agreeing with the opposing party. This is the honourable, brave thing to do in taking that first step! Life is so short and can so easily be filled with regrets. As I get older I realise more and more the importance of my family. Choices made many years ago have left their legacies and not all of them are good! No one’s life is perfect, least of all mine.

It can be very difficult to forgive when the wounds are deep and still cause much pain. And, like with all disagreements, it’s complicated. But what is the alternative? Depriving families of their loved ones and having no cherished memories to look back on as the years march swiftly by? If you never try you’ll never know! Its a no-brainer!👠

My husband and I are entering a new, frightening decade and have decided to celebrate with our family instead of throwing a big party.

Our celebrations began with my son and his family. My grandchildren had never been to New York so we all decided that would be a good place to start. They live in the States so it wouldn’t mean a long haul flight, just an hour with no change of time zones. We only packed hand luggage to avoid any delays or loss of luggage! I found this challenging, as you can imagine! I’m not one for travelling light!

Day one was a toss up between the Empire State Building and the ‘Edge’, which is the highest outdoor sky deck in the Western Hemisphere. It’s suspended more than 1200 feet above the ground with 360 degree views around New York. This was the children’s choice. The adults had been to the Empire State Building so happily agreed. It certainly was going to be different!

And it was! I am petrified of heights! I walked onto the deck and looked across at the tops of the surrounding sky scrapers. It was a warm day with little wind, the sky was a deep, cloudless, azure blue. The sun beat down on the visitors as they made their way to the glass platform followed closely by my granddaughter. I watched as she strode fearlessly onto the glass floor and looked down at the streets and buildings below. She was smiling and gave me a thumbs up.

I took a few tentative steps towards the edge and glanced down, immediately stepping back and looking up. I felt pathetic! People were posing or taking selfies either sitting or lying down on the platform. It was stable and looked very solid. Had I come all this way just to hang on to the side rails and look up? My granddaughter called out to me. I inched forward, staring straight ahead. I felt the glass underfoot as I stepped onto the platform.

I joined my granddaughter and sat beside her, not daring to look down. My husband took a photograph. Now there is proof of my bravery! My granddaughter decided to lie down on the glass and suggested I join her. In for a penny, in for a pound! I remained transfixed to the glass railing a few yards away. I lay down beside her and felt the warm sun’s rays on my face. I could feel perspiration on my forehead. I shut my eyes, desperately trying to avoid thinking about the 1200 foot drop.

Suddenly I panicked and sat up. Unfortunately I inadvertently looked down at my feet as I stood up. I could feel my heart thumping and felt dizzy. I held out both arms to balance myself. What on earth was I thinking? I had to get off ASAP! I saw my son and husband a few feet away and rushed towards them. I almost collided with a couple holding hands and gazing into each other’s eyes. So they also weren’t looking down!

When I was back on solid ground I turned around and saw my daughter in law hanging on to my grandson’s arm as she gingerly stepped on to the platform. The difference was she was looking down at her feet. This is not the way to do it!

‘Stop looking down’ I called out to her. ‘Just keep walking and stare straight ahead. You’re doing really well!’ I felt significantly braver on the other side!

After lunch my son had arranged to meet a friend at the highest rooftop bar located in the heart of New York City. My vertigo challenge wasn’t over yet! We all climbed into a large black uber and headed off to 230 5th street, to visit this chic bar and lounge nestled up amongst the clouds! After waiting in a long queue, then on through security, we climbed into the lift and shot up to the top of the world. The lift ground to a halt and we walked into a darkened corridor, climbed a flight of stairs and out into the open bar area.

There, etched against the still cloudless sky, majestic and proud, was the top of the Empire State Building! I wasn’t expecting that! Luckily a high wall surrounded the bar so I had little choice but to look up or across at happy people enjoying drinks at the end of their working week.

But our excitement for the day was not yet complete. After a couple of drinks we made our way back down to ground level and had a meal in a restuarant before catching a ferry to sail around the Statue of Liberty. We had barely finished eating when my son’s friend told us to leave the restaurant immediately and head towards the river. He’d received a warning that there were riots in Union Square and thousands of youths were making their way towards us. When we got outside a number of helicopters were flying overhead and police cars, sirens blazing, were rushing past. Traffic had ground to a halt and the atmosphere was electric.

My son ordered an Uber and we made our way to the agreed meeting place. Barring my grandson, who was buzzing with excitement and my husband who takes everything in his stride, the rest of us felt very anxious. We wanted to get as far away from the rioters as possible! Apparently cars and shop windows were being smashed as thousands of young people had started moving into the surrounding streets. Our restaurant was targeted within a few minutes of us leaving so we were very grateful for the timely warning and felt we’d had a narrow escape.

A popular ‘live streamer’ had announced a ‘giveaway’ of PlayStation 5 consoles and an assortment of other gifts to any of his fans who showed up. He had advertised this on his Instagram account. He was late. Six thousand plus fans waited impatiently then began to climb on hoods of cars before clambering up lampposts and traffic lights. Several set off fire crackers which caused mayhem. The celebrity eventually arrived but had to escape the crowd and take cover, driving off in his large black SUV, leaving the police to disperse the crowd, the majority of them young teenagers wanting a freebie!

Our eventful day ended with an enjoyable sail along the Hudson River to see New York by night and the magnificent, illuminated Statue of Liberty. She looked resplendent, a neoclassical copper sculpture, etched against the black sky line. This is the statue of Libertas, the Roman goddess of liberty. She holds a torch above her head with her right hand and a tablet in her left with the date, 4th July 1776, the date of the American Declaration of Independence from Britain.

We all slept well that night, exhausted yet grateful that we were safely tucked up in bed. We were far away from riots or having to plough through masses of people who all seem to be walking in the opposite direction! Our first day had certainly been a memorable adventure! And that had only been the start! 👠

We have Stonehenge under construction at the bottom of our garden. It started life as a rockery with ferns and a spectacular tree fern in the middle. For years my husband spoke about expanding it. For years his pipe dream remained just that. But then we had a bad winter last year and the spectacular tree fern died.

The family mourned with my husband. We still hoped for a miracle and regularly checked the frondless trunk and prodded inside. We hoped to find hard buds waiting for spring so that they would erupt into life. Our joy was short lived because the small hard lumps turned soft and finally, after a few weeks, we had to accept that the beloved tree fern had not survived.

So my husband ordered a new one. When it arrived it was even more spectacular, significantly bigger and more robust. And there were a host of buds waiting to burst open as the warm weather replaced the freezing dark days of winter. The old tree fern was laid to rest at the bottom of the garden, behind the rhododendron hedge.

My husband is an engineer. For days he wandered around the rockery planning an expansion. A tape measure and iron poles were used to plot the extension. He still hadn’t given up on the original tree fern, not yet. He needed to get a place ready just in case we were all wrong and had misjudged the fortitude and determination of the one currently laid to rest behind the rhododendron hedge. The man who had delivered the new tree fern told us that they can lie dormant for months and then spring back to life.

So, to this end, ‘Stonehenge take two’ now stands proud and majestic at the bottom of our garden. A Herculaneum feat undertaken by one man to immortalise his pride and joy and, like Lazarus, hope tree fern number one will rise again from the dead.

There were, however, a number of difficulties delaying the start of the build. Vast amounts of soil, soil enhancer and compost were needed as the rockery was going to be significantly enlarged. These had to be found at the best price and with affordable delivery charges. Then my husband needed more stones or rather, boulders. These had to be seen and examined for size, colour and thickness. I went along to different reclamation centres and building sites to search for two rocks that would complete the construction. A sack barrow had arrived to move everything dumped on our driveway from the front of the house, down an incline, through a narrow gateway to the bottom of the garden. This would be no mean feat! I was convinced that there was absolutely no way my husband was going to manage on his own! He would have to wait for our son in law who was visiting in a few weeks.

There was also a slight problem for him but a significant one for me! Wasps had made a nest beneath one of the ferns. No one wants to be stung by a wasp. My husband, however, reacts very badly to wasp stings! When he was stung on the arm a few summers ago it blew up like a balloon! My concern is a sting around his throat or eyes. Piriton would not work quickly enough to stop major swelling. He was dicing with death not getting rid of the nest before starting on his mammoth project. But he had decided that, if they left him alone he would preserve the nest. Really? Apparently there were so few wasps about this year and they were good for the eco system.

I found this magnanimous decision illogical! How does one relay the message to wasps that you come in peace? You don’t sting me and I’ll not disturb your home! Well, for the first week I was impressed. This symbiotic relationship seemed to work! Alas, on Saturday afternoon, a rogue wasp hadn’t received the message and stung my husband on his hand. I saw him running down the lawn towards the house. I heard him turn on the outside tap and thought he must have hurt himself but hadn’t noticed any blood dripping from wounds. When he came into the kitchen and I saw his hand I knew what had happened.

It was huge. I have a few tablets in a bowl in the kitchen. I was convinced that I had piriton and, when I found the pack, popped out a tablet and gave it to him with a glass of water. He decided that he needed another one so obliged. He went outside and packed away his tools. He barbecued meat and we settled down for the evening. His hand was very red, very hot and very swollen. I remembered my daughter telling me that she had been rushed to hospital a few years ago because she had suddenly developed a serious rash after having paracetamol. She was given piriton intravenously and also loratadine. Apparently you can take these two together. I gave my husband another tablet. There was no improvement to his hand but it wasn’t getting worse. He googled wasp stings and used frozen sweetcorn as an ice pack as recommended.

The next morning his hand was no better. I went downstairs to get another piriton. I took the blister pack with me and a glass of water. My husband read the label.

‘This is a pack of Buscapan Cramps’ he laughed. I don’t have IBS!

I went downstairs after having a chuckle and looked for the piriton. There weren’t any! Yesterday I had inadvertently given him two Buscapan Cramp tablets! Is there any wonder they didn’t bring the swelling down? I felt awful. Luckily it wasn’t a life or death situation!

‘Maybe the time has come for you to read labels’, was my husband’s response when I told him! Between you and me I did find it quite amusing especially when he said that he’d not had any stomach cramps during the night! My daughter wasn’t amused. She told me to make a note that if it happens again Dad will need a piriton, a loratadine and an ibuprofen tablet and to ensure that I have these tablets in the house at all times!

Unfortunately my husband was no longer ‘Mr Nice Guy’! The wasps haven’t got a home beneath a fern in a rockery that has almost doubled in size. Despite my reservations my husband moved everything on his own! Stonehenge take two was single handedly built by an intrepid, determined engineer as proof that nothing was going to prevent him from completing the task! Despite being of a certain age, for him that meant nothing ! Call it foolhardy, dogged determination or just stubborn pride! Whatever moniker fits I’m impressed and so will the family be when they see it too! For him, age definitely is just a number!👠