Visiting the past...

This sofa is in Dulverton in a holiday let, and it is a strange comfort.

On a grey February day in 2006, our youngest 4 kids were struggling to wake up for school. They stumbled into our bedroom tousled of hair and bleary of eye.

‘Oh it’s started to rain!’ I said gaily as they groaned. I think one of them headed back off to bed. ‘Why don’t we go on holiday instead of going to school.’

The child stopped uncertainly, half wanting to believe me, but knowing it must be a joke…

They turned and frowned at me. ‘Seriously?’

I don’t know how many other parents have noticed this, but young children wake up early on weekends and holidays [when we want to lie in] and are so very tired and can't get out of bed on school days [when we are in a frantic rush]. The confirmation that we had indeed booked a week-end away for them, and yes we were leaving on Friday, and yes they would miss a day of school [you can’t do this now folks, sorry] immediately glavanised them into action.

They leapt off the bed whooping with joy; they were in their clothes, had eaten breakfast and brushed their teeth before I had finished my second cup of tea.

I can recommend this, people. Or no, I can’t because you will be fined £60 a day per child. But still.

We were in the car and off to Dulverton, which is a place nobody has heard of. I imagine it is a bit like Ambridge. A pub, a Pharmacy, a couple of tea rooms, a Church, a butcher and delicatessen and a solicitor. In the middle was the most useful building for us, which was the Library where we sat most of a rainy morning reading books – which I had to say was very much like going to school, but without the teachers. But the kids were happy.

We went on trips to Exmoor, saw wild ponies, ate in cafes and watched films in the evening. We even did a bit of art.

But the thing is, my husband and I came back here this weekend. We are in the same apartment looking over the main street, at the same table, by the same bookshelf that was here when our kids were small. Wait there – a visitor book is on the top, and if you turn back to 2006 my kids entries are there for me to read…

One boy who was 13 at the time and is now pushing 26 this year, wrote in the book; ‘I think this was one of the best holiday homes I have ever been in. It was really nice….’

The two youngest boys; ‘I really enjoyed my stay here,’ [9] and the youngest [6] drew a picture of the TV, which says it all really.

But it was reading the entry of my youngest daughter that was the most poignant. She was 11 at the time, and is getting married next month. She wrote;

‘I would probably say that was one of the best holidays I have had. I had an amazing time, I thought the village was great, loved the sofa and the little chair by the bathroom, the kitchen was amazing…it was the best… thanks very much.’

Thing is guys, your kids will leave you one day. Let’s make sure we give them good memories while we have them….

Counting the pennies

Facing the prospect of severely reduced hours at work soon, I’m getting enthusiastic about frugal living. Now this isn’t as terrible as it sounds, not if you take it on as a challenge or a game. I know because I’ve done it before, and I realise you can get so into it that you become a bit of a bore. Like someone who has lost a lot of weight, stopped smoking or got the fitness bug. Always banging on about the latest tip.

 Stay with me though, this CAN be interesting…

Naturally I did some research. Yes I know I should have it taped by now, but there’s nothing wrong with brushing up skills and knowledge is there? And there’s always someone who has come up with a bright idea you hadn’t thought of.

So anyway, I found a newspaper article about possibly the most frugal person in the UK. She’s a sixty-something lady who shared her top tips for living on a tiny income. She reckons she lives on £2,600 a year. That’s how frugal she is. So she must be worth reading about, yes?

Well, yes and no, as it turns out. But, eccentricity in all it’s forms is fascinating, so I thought I’d look at her lifestyle and see if there’s anything I can add to my own ideas.

Here is a selection...

1.    Eat your dinner straight out of the pan to save washing up. 

    Might not work if you have a family, although I must admit I did consider a communal trough when the children were young.

2.     Buy clothes from charity shops. 

     This is one of the sensible and obvious ideas, although she says her charity shop sells clothes for £1. Mine doesn’t, not unless they’re so unspeakably awful that nobody will buy them otherwise.

3.     Go to bed wearing all your clothes in cold weather to keep warm. 

     This lady obviously doesn’t have a husband.

4.     Don’t encourage people to visit you. 

     Luckily for Ms Meanie, her house is so cold they don’t want to come anyway, but if they do…

5.     Get them to bring their own tea bags. 

     Now that IS mean!

6.     Don’t drink tea or coffee because they’re expensive. Just have a few drops of squash in hot water. 

     This is so wrong in my opinion that I don’t know what to say. She must be mad.

7.     Get your newspapers from a friend (if you’ve got any) when they’ve finished them - and cadge a cup of tea while you’re at it. 

     Unless they haven’t forgotten the time you told them to bring their own tea bag when they visited you.

8.     Become a blood donor. 

     She is so desperate for other people’s tea that she suggests giving blood as a way to get a free cuppa and some biscuits.

9.     If you see fruit growing in a garden, knock the door and ask if you can pick some. 

     This would be so far out of my comfort zone that I can’t even imagine myself doing it.

10.Use a wind-up torch instead of electricity to light your way around your home at night. 

     Not so atmospheric as the use of a cheap candle like a Dickensian miser though. If you’re going to be a miser you might as well do it in style IMO.

11.Buy men’s pants because they are stronger and last longer.                    

     You must be kidding!

12.Cut your hair yourself. 

     NO and no again. I was in a greengrocers shop once when a very odd lady wandered in with chunks of hair all over her clothes, looking for a hairdresser because her own hair cutting efforts had gone terribly wrong. This is a memory I can’t shake off and I don’t want to end up that kind of a nutter. (PS I think Saggy might have tried this tip though)

13.Pinch things out of skips. 

     It’s surprising what people get rid of. But isn’t ‘skip diving’ illegal?

14.Write small to save ink. 

     A daft suggestion IMHO. Surely easier to pinch someone’s else’s pen anyway.

15.Don’t wash your clothes unless you really really have to. 

     This has the added bonus of discouraging visitors, with or without their own tea bags.

16.Stop caring what other people think. 

     This is such a no brainer if you are going to follow these suggestions that it’s hardly worth saying it. You would HAVE to stop caring what people think. Ms Meanie must have a skin as thick as a rhino.

I don’t think I gained any practical help from the article, but it made a good read and raised a few smiles. You have to admire this lady’s individuality and ingenuity, even if she does sound as nutty as a fruit cake. But, as she points out, she enjoys her life and doesn’t care what anybody thinks.

Now that’s a piece of advice worth taking.

Inching forward to the good life...

Further to my ‘bit of both worlds’ musings in January – I now have 3 chickens! Two buff mixed bantams and a gold Dutch bantam - which sounds like I know my chickens, but I don’t really. This is just what I have been told. All I know is that they are not the small white Sussex bantams I had last year [which got murdered by a fox or badger] nor are they like the larger brown hens I had the year before [also murdered by a fox or badger].

Me collecting my little buffs

They are happy in their little coop and they have started to lay eggs, which fills me with joy. My youngest son has told me not to let them out on the grass in order to preserve their lives, as this is what allowed a fox [or badger] to kill the last two lots. I hadn’t shut them up properly. I know. I feel bad. The first time was because I was naïve. The second time was because I had a migraine and was in bed, so strictly not my fault.

                        

I really really want to let them out on the grass as it is healthier for them and the eggs, and thus for us. Plus I think they will be happier. But they are obviously happier being alive than dead, or being murdered, so…

My family has drawn a line in the sand, the other side of which are a goat and a pig. I can see their point so I have backed down. My husband bought me a book on how to raise pigs which was cruel, but he thought I would find it interesting, so I forgive him.

My squash seeds are in, so are my courgettes. I peek at them every day in the conservatory to see if they have started to grow. I am going to plant beetroot, parsnips and carrot, onions and shallots. Oh and lots of herbs obvs. I was encouraged to keep trying to grow stuff when I went to one of Charles Dowding’s No Dig days in Somerset, just 40 mins drive from me – how lucky was I? If you can’t get to one of his days google him and watch his vids on Youtube. Honestly. https://www.charlesdowding.co.uk/

AND – I have my Aga. It was delivered by two lovely men. I say lovely advisedly as they decided not to charge us for moving the thing because they saw how happy it made me. It always pays to smile at peeps, people! I am looking forward to coming home from a long walk, or from collecting wood in the Land rover, popping the kettle on the hob with that super hissing sound that it makes, then drawing up a chair and resting my chilled feet in the warming oven and reading a book.

I will raise my bread dough on the top, dry clothes and herbs, leave stews to bubble all day. It has been too long since my last Aga and I had almost given up hope of ever having another one, but then friends of mine moved house and decided to get rid of the Aga that was there as they couldn’t get on with it. Oh happy days!

 

A letter to my future self

So, here you are – twenty years from 2018. How is life these days?

I hope you are still well and active, because if not, it’s probably my fault. I should be doing more now, they say, if I want to have a healthy old age.  I always MEAN to exercise more but… well, you know how it is. Oh, and I’m sorry for all that chocolate I ate over and above what was reasonable. But at least I didn’t drink much.

Many of the people you have known and loved will not be around now. The world must be a sadder place without them. You are probably – barring miracles – an elderly orphan. Unless, that is, you are no longer around either. But I’m hoping you will still be here, enjoying the freedom to do the things that the elderly are allowed to get away with. Let’s also hope they haven’t locked you up yet.

You will still be proud of your wonderful family, I’m sure. I hope they’re looking after you well!

By now dear little Archie will be long gone. Do you remember the fun and laughter he brought into your life? You have probably forgotten the times he pooped on the carpet or chewed the furniture when he was a puppy. Just think of all the fresh air and exercise you would have missed if it wasn’t for him. You’d have been on that sofa for hours every day…

And old Sam, the Cat Legend. What a character he was! A proper killing machine in his young days. He took on anything that moved, didn’t he. Squirrels, ducks, sea gulls, birds of any size really. Not to mention mice and rats of course. Remember the time he fought a fox and won? And did you ever forgive him for being sick under your bed?

I don’t suppose you find it any easier to make decisions. You always could see things from so many angles! People called you indecisive. I like to think you could see the bigger picture. Not always an advantage though.

They say you miss going to work when you are retired. I find it hard to believe, but I guess you know if that’s true by now. Unless they have moved the retirement goalposts so much that everybody works until they are 90. I wouldn’t be surprised.

I hope you are still able to get out and about and take your camera with you. Please say you aren’t sitting alone somewhere fuming about split infinitives and bad spelling or spitting feathers over the younger generation.  Are you keeping up with technology? It’s enough of a struggle already, I can tell you.

I can’t imagine what the world is like for you. Change happens so fast.

Do tell me you get hooked up to virtual reality when you go into a care home in 2038. So much more fun than sitting in front of daytime TV.

Perhaps from the misty distance of time you will look back and remember how things were. Maybe you will have learnt not to be too hard on yourself. Not only to think kindly of other people but also to be kind to yourself.