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Posts Tagged ‘birthday’

A perfect weekend

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Saturday morning was a first since I started chemo — I got up early!! We had booked the car in for a service at 10am down in Cliftonville at our yacht club friend Bob’s garage, St George’s.

I’d thought about going down on Friday but realised that would gain us only an hour on Saturday morning and we decided to set off by 8.30 on Saturday. This may not sound early, but I’m never a morning person at the best of times and I’ve definitely been slow to get going after chemo. Still, this was 8 days after treatment and I was feeling pretty normal. The beauty of having no hair is that it makes showering and getting ready so much quicker!!

We got to the garage just before 10. We’d planned to take a wander into Margate while the car was being serviced and to see our grandchildren Josh and Fay once we’d got the car back. But we hadn’t realised that the car was due for a big service and would take at least three hours. It was cool and windy outside and we had a long day ahead of us with a 60th birthday party in the evening. It was going to be a long day for anyone, but I have had to learn quickly to be a bit kinder to myself and not overdo it. So I did something I’m not good at. I asked a favour.

I suggested to Martin that we phone his son Matthew, my stepson, who lives nearby, to see if he could pick us up and take us back to his place. It was quite an imposition, landing on him and Claire without any warning, but I really needed somewhere warm and comfortable to spend the next three hours. Mat was washing his car (his pride and joy, at least until daughter Olivia came along). But he didn’t hesitate. Just let him wash the suds off and he’d be round.

Claire and three year old Olivia we’re out when we got there at Olivia’s ballet class so granddad had the TV to himself to watch Saturday Kitchen. We both enjoy the show but I have an ulterior motive in encouraging Martin to watch it. It gives him lots of tips ands ideas which he then uses when cooking my meals!!

An hour or so later and Olivia was back from dancing in her little pink ballet dress and wrap around cardi, hair up in a bun. Her cousin Ethan, celebrating his fifth birthday that day, was with her to keep him from under dad’s feet while his birthday party was arranged. Claire, our lovely daughter-in-law, was unphased at coming home and finding us sitting in her living room watching TV. She made us tea and a sandwich for lunch while Martin whipped the children up into a giggling frenzy.

Given that last week, Olivia was so keen for me to remove my headscarf and not put it back on, I took it off before she arrived. She took a few seconds to adjust when she first walked in but was fine with my bald head. At some point though, she did look at me intently and ask: “When is your hair going to grow up again?” Does she know something I don’t?

At around 1.30 we decided to walk back to the garage. I was really glad to have had this relaxing and lovely family time round at Mat and Claire’s. We had an invigorating walk along the cliff top to the garage. On the way we bumped into Eve, our eldest granddaughter who turned 13 on Thursday. She was walking home from dancing and was going to get ready to have seven friends round for a sleepover, all of whom would somehow be sleeping, or rather chatting, in her small bedroom that night! She looked so grown up. You just cant help wondering where those 13 years went?

We collected the car and went round to get Eve’s brotherJosh and sister Fay. The plan was for Martin to take Josh to the local rugby club, Thanet Wanderers, to watch some of the afternoon’s match and to have a kick around. Martin played rugby most of his life. He played in the army and for various teams including Exeter and Thanet Wanderers. Josh, whose dad Russell had him in Chelsea kit from the day he was born and who has played football since he could walk, did not get chosen for his new secondary school’s football team. To dad, Russell’s disgust, he got chosen for the rugby team!

I dropped them off at the rugby club and headed into Broadstairs with Fay. She wanted to buy a CD with the money she’d saved. Naturally, at six years old she knows all about pop music — what she likes and what she doesn’t — and apart from the fact that she got a CD player for Christmas, her reason for wanting to buy this, or these, CDs, was she was fed up having to ask her big sister Eve to borrow hers and invariably being refused!

I was hoping to get away with going only to Broadstairs. There aren’t many shops there but I ws praying one would have CDs. The alternative was struggling through the traffic to Westwood Cross. As we drove through Broadstairs to the car park, I realised my only hope would be Tesco. We parked the car and Fay, who eats like a sparrow, was hungry. We set off to find some food. I headed for Morelli’s, a wonderfully retro 1950s Italian coffee bar and ice-cream cafe. We were late for lunch and they had only a few sandwiches left, but Fay’s eyes had already lighted on the chocolate cake. I know, hardly nutritional, but what are grandparents for?

It was absolute delight though, sitting looking out to sea sipping coffee with my lovely little companion next to me. The CD mission had to be put on hold. Fay had spotted the beach. “Can we go to the beach?” she asked. Why not? I thought. Luckily it was a mild afternoon and the wind had dropped. She was impatient now for me to finish my coffee. We walked onto the beach and Fay promptly sat herself down on the sand. I sat next to her. Why not?

We had no bucket and no spade, but that didn’t stop both of us building sand castles. Two other little girls, not much older than Fay, wandered over to right by us and also starting digging a hole. They were keen to chat to me. “Do you know them?” Fay asked, incredulously. I said I did not. She did not talk to them herself. She was too busy building a “city” of castles. I could not have been happier. I’ve always loved the beach and I had the perfect companion.

We must have been there an hour. I managed to pry her away only when it started to get cooler and by reminding her we still had CDs to find. We walked, or rather she ran, round to Tesco, where we’d arranged to meet up with Martin and Josh. As we arrived, I realised it was only a small Tesco Metro. Surely I’d be in trouble, there would be no CDs?

Luck was truly on my side. They must have had ten CDs. The top ten, I guess, but what would I know? They had One Direction, top on madam’s list. How many could she afford with her £20? She wanted to know. With a small contribution from granddad, she would manage three CDs. She was made up. She chose Olly Murs and a third whose name meant nothing to me and therefore escapes me. What a result! And what a lovely afternoon. We took them into a nearby seafront pub for a drink and some crisps and bumped into old friends Jude and Roger, who we’ve known since we lived on our boat in St Katherine’s in the mid eighties and who now live down there. We had a catch up with them, shared crisps with the children and headed back to the car.

By the time we’d dropped them off and driven back to Ramsgate, we had about an hour until it was time to get ready to go out. I had a little lie down on the settee in the saloon, just to recharge my batteries. Then we were off again. Up to the yacht club for Frank Martin’s 60th.

Once again, I had an unbelievably warm welcome from everyone. They were all so kind and seemed genuinely pleased to see me looking well and out and about.

And out and about I certainly was. The great duo 2Bro was playing at the party. We’d had them for Martin’s 60th last year and when they play, you just have to get up and dance. And dance we did. I felt great. As fit as I would have done before starting treatment. And very invigorated by the dancing. It was a great evening and we finally left at about 12.30. Perfect end to a perfect day.

For once, we had no plans or commitments for Sunday morning. We got up at 9.30, went up for a shower, went for a pleasant walk, and then I went up to the Galley cafe for breakfast, which I enjoyed outside in the sunshine, while Martin went to Waitrose to shop for dinner.

We left Ramsgate at midday and headed home. I like driving back in the daylight on Sunday. It gives me a chance to read at least the main section of the Sunday Times. Sadly, most of the rest of it goes unread the rest of the week! As it was early, I decided to go round to see my parents. I could see Martin was tired so offered to drop him home first.

Mum and dad were, not surprisingly, really pleased to see me and I spent a pleasant couple of hours with them. Once home, my perfect weekend was topped off with a lovely dinner and watching Call the Midwife followed by Birdsong on TV. Two excellent programmes to round off my excellent weekend!

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Playing with my new present!!

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I was actually out shopping with Martin when he left me in a coffee shop to go and get my Christmas present. He returned with a smallish box in a carrier bag and I couldn’t begin to imagine what it could be. For some reason I thought it might be a small handbag or something. I gave it no more thought.

So when I opened said small box yesterday morning I was shocked and delighted to find he’d bought me an iPad! I’d definitely started to want one, but coldn’t bein to justify buying one. The delight in receiving such a lovely gift from my husband was tinged with a little sadness though. It brought back a poignant memory of the last time I had received some unexpectedly generous and expensive presents — my 18th birthday.

I had been diagnosed with Hodgkins’ Disease shortly before my 18th birthday and for some reason, possibly to try to ensure I was able to make the joint 18th party I’d arranged with my friend Diana for 8 days after my actual birthday, I ended up having a major operation on my actual birthday. I was allowed to have a light breakfast at about 6am and was woken by the night nurses with a huge tray with my boiled eggs and toast that wss littered with little cut-out 18s and happy birthdays and keys. The nurses had spent most of the night preparing this little treat for me.

And then at about 9am, my parents and sister arrived. A few weeks before my diagnosis mum had taken me shopping to see if there was anything I wanted for my 18th. We”d spotted a lovely necklace that literally seemed to have my name on it. It was a small Perspex cylinder with a diamond J set into it. But it cost what seemed to be a fortune. I think it was £80. But this was 1977, and that seemed like an unbelievable sum of money back then. We reluctantly turned away and carried on looking for something a little less extravagant.

So imagine my feelings when, in my hospital bed on my 18th birthday, I opened mum and dad’s present and found that necklace! My sister Lou had also bought me a beautiful leather writing case with my initials on, which, as she continues to remind me to this day, was “not a cheap item!”

Hence why, when I opened my iPad yesterday, I was transported back 34 years and why yet again, my loved ones feel they need to spoil me!

But there was no time to dwell on all of that. We had 13 guests turning up for Xmas dinner in a few hours and there was plenty to do. Martin, in his totally unflappable way, finally installed himself in the kitchen at about 9am. The 25lb turkey was shoved into the oven, and without the slightest bother, he prepped the veg and got the starters and canapés ready.

All I had to do was get myself dressed and lay the two tables!! At around noon I remarked that ours was probably the calmest household in the whole of the UK!

It all went off brilliantly. My parents and Lou and Bev arrived at 1 and the other nine were not that far behind them. We started with mulled wine, prepared loosely to a Jamie Oliver recipe, yummy, and there was plenty of conversation to accompany the canapés. The seating worked fine, with a table of 8 and another of 7, and the chef excelled himself. By pacing the serving of starters and leaving a good gap before the main courses, we were more able than usual to actualy enjoy the delicious free range turkey from a farm near Tunbridge Wells in Kent. Thanks to our friend Ross for ordering and collecting it again this year. It was worth every penny and all the effort!

After pudding we decided a walk would be in order. After much waiting for people to retrieve their coats, find their comfy shoes etc, I led a group of 12 on a short tour of Limehouse and out onto the river. Refreshed and with the cobwebs blown away we returned for some coffee, more chat and a brief flirtation with the TV.

It was only my sister’s premature hangover (she blames Bev for making her stop drinking too early!) that prompted people to start to leave at around 9.30pm. I think everyone had enjoyed themselves, I know I had.

For Fay on her 6th birthday

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We love our little Fay
She really makes our day
She is so sweet and funny
With her it’s always sunny
You cannot fool her ever
Because she is so clever (more…)

Tony Smythe is 70!

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Wow! Exactly where d’you start, this task is surely great
To paint in merely minutes such a complex portrait?

Of a man who is much loved, who is a special one
Who has a serious side but a wicked sense of fun

Who attracts into his life a most eclectic bunch of friends
To whom he is so loyal that the friendship never ends

He shared his life for many years, with his one great love
Who sadly, was called from him to that resting place above

And ‘though Tony still misses him every single day
He has never let self-pity, stand in his way

He pursues his life with gusto, confronts all that it throws him
Yet always finds the time to help, anyone who knows him

At an age when many people would be curled up by the fire
Tony has so many things, to which he’ll still aspire

At work, his retirement plans, if I may be so bold
Seem to be, I have to say, permanently on hold!

That his expertise and knowledge, are still in such demand
Is testament to just how much respect he can command

For without him, many a surgeon would be caught on the hop
They can’t do without his steady hand to help them make the chop

Though he has been known, some afternoons, to enjoy a good siesta
It’s only to recharge himself for another night’s fiesta

Those half his age would find it hard, at night, to keep up
With this drinking, partying, night-clubbing, fun-loving young pup

Though he loves his life and all his friends he likes to get away
And likes nothing better than, a foreign holiday

His travel tales are legendary and always most amusing
You’ll not believe the sights he’s seen while on the high seas cruising!

Not for him the country pile, the acreage and the aga
He far prefers to sail the seas accompanied by Saga

Yes he has his favourite haunts, to which he’s really loyal
Like Booty’s in Limehouse and Ramsgate Yacht Club, which is royal

And fit for a queen, so no wonder he’s deserved
At RTYC to have his own room reserved

Of course boating is his love, in his eye it puts a gleam
And his home and pride and joy is his own boat, Eagle’s Dream

It’s not always been plain sailing, things sometimes ran amok
And the air turned very blue with him and Trevor in a lock!

He took Eagle’s Dream to Calais, how he got there no one knows
For his compass was a long way out nothing like the compass rose

The trip back it was lumpy and the boat rolled to and fro
Poor Tony spent the crossing with palpitations down below

Until that is the vessel reached the Thames’ own estuary
The waters calmed, the sun came out and Tony rose with glee

To sit upon the poop deck like a passenger on a ferry
Sun on his face and glass in hand, with his favourite tipple, sherry

He thought he’d try the east coast, with his friend, Stuart Carter
But they misjudged the depths, and Stu became a martyr

As the boat tipped slowly over, these two, not the most slender
Had to spend the night, cuddled up in Tony’s tender>

One holiday, he left the sea, for a hotel with a pool
But as he dozed he became the victim of a crime quite cruel

Someone had seized his handbag and without a second thought
Tony leapt up and did give chase, determined the bugger be caught

He fell and copped a bruising but some young firemen gave chase
They returned the bag but more than that, put a smile on Tony’s face

Yes he’s a party boy, a smarty boy, who likes to get about
But be careful not to cross him or you’ll get the Tony pout!

That pout could launch a thousand ships, wither the toughest of men
But it’s always done with tongue in cheek and soon he’ll smile again

So no wonder he’s attracted, so many here today
To help Tony celebrate a very special day

Friends and colleagues, raise your glasses, join me in saying cheers
Good luck, God bless, keep having fun, for another 70 years!!

©Joanne Ross

19th September 2009

For Lucy on her ‘Fiftieth’?

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Come up for a 50th birthday, he said
Fifty? We cried, he’s off his head
Just because he’s seen six decades or more
And his hair has turned silver white to the core
There’s no need to rustle up rumours juicy
Maligning his lovely, much younger wife Lucy
You need only take one look at her
And with him you will not concur
Her auburn hair, it’s fair to say
Does not betray a hint of grey
Her youthful manner, meek and mild
Why, she’s no more than a sweet young child
Like every coy young girl of course
Lucy’s pride and joy’s her horse
She spends her days not lounging about
But in the stables mucking out
If this woman were really that old
D’you think she would have been so bold
To make in life a brand new start
And go to college to study art?
Not for Lucy the classical or sedate
Lucy’s art would adorn the modern Tate
No, a woman of that imagination
Cannot possibly be the creation
Of nineteen hundred and fifty-five
She’s far too vibrant and alive
And to her can’t possibly belong
Three adult offspring, something’s wrong
She must be just an older pal
To James and his sisters Charlotte and Cal
Still, after a lengthy consultation
We’ve accepted David’s invitation
His ugly little birthday rumour
We thought we’d come along and humour
We’ll drink his beer and quaff his wine
And eat his food, but draw the line
At believing that Lucy’s reached big Five-O
We’ve got a better plan you know
Let’s raise a glass and cheer Lucy then
And celebrate her forty-ten!

© Joanne Ross – 5th February 2005