Travels with my Cello

"Taxis."
"Yes, I need a taxi from the railway station," I told the disembodied voice at the other end of the phone line.
"There's a rank at the station, love."
"I may need a larger cab, though. I'm travelling with four children and collecting a cello."

Even to my ears, it sounded like I was making it up.

Before the holiday to France (see the pod) I bought a cello on eBay for a bargain price. Eartha wants to take up cello lessons and who am I to deny her. Anyway, renting a cello is enormously expensive, so we got a second hand one instead. The only hassle was that the bargain we'd secured was 'local pick-up only' and on the other side of the country.

Thanks to Nick's job, we get a certain amount of free train travel, which was the only reason it was economic to to do a 500 mile round trip. It would only cost us time. A lot of time. It was a minimum of 13 hours on the train.

Logistically it was interesting too. Mum went in for her operation on Thursday. It was very quick, for such a major operation and we brought her home on Friday. She's making a marvellous recovery and is quite mobile; much better than expected. She even had the energy to come to the Captain's Day at the Bowling Club on Sunday. She didn't bowl, of course, but had a social time. She won a box of raspberries in the raffle, but heck, I won a can of coke.

Talking of bowling, I had a match on Saturday, at a small village club in rural Herefordshire. Mum gave me directions - but to a completely different club. I guess she was still suffering from the effects of the anaesthetic. I ended up asking directions from confused guests at a wedding and screeching into the car park ten minutes after the match started. Having said that, our rink was the only one that won, probably despite, rather than because of me.

Anyway, Mum couldn't look after the kids while I was fetching the cello, so they would have to come with me. And then, there was the matter of the dog. Again, Mum couldn't have him and Nick was at work. Eventually, late on Sunday night, I cajoled friend Beth into dog-sitting in return for me babysitting next weekend. Pal got quite a good deal out of this; he got a couple of walks and taken to the beer festival, where he was fussed continually for eight hours. My pooch was pooped when we got back in.

And so it was, that I was trying to persuade the taxi company of Great Yarmouth that I was not making a hoax booking. The whole trip went amazingly smoothly. British Rail, completely out of character, managed to make every connection (and there were lots of them). The kids behaved themselves and the taxi was there as promised. We made it there and back again without real incident. Eartha keeps hugging the cello like it is her best friend. It needs a bit of an MOT and a new string or two, but it'll do the job to learn on.
Guess what woke me up this morning? Yep, a three-string, un-tuned cello rendition of 'Mary Had a Little Lamb'.

International Meeting

The end of term meant many activities at the school. There were two Leavers' Assemblies for the Year 6 kids who are off to high school, an end of term picnic, a party for the Y6s, parent's evening... I felt as though I lived there after a while. To add to all of this, we had three Couchsurfers of varying nationalities staying.Aziz is an intelligent, interesting Albanian who fled the troubles of the Kosovo- Serbian war and now lives in Germany. He stayed for a week. We went up the Malverns with him, and into Worcester. He also went off to Shakespeare's birthplace and Ludlow Castle.

Victoria also stayed with us. She is a Buddhist priest from Japan. Well, technically she's English, but she married a Japanese man and brought their youngest daughter with her. Sahara didn't speak much English, but seemed to get on well with my kids, being the same age as Saskia and Eartha. I arranged for her to go into their class for a day too, which Eartha was hugely excited about. I think they had a nice time.Now the holidays are here, we can finally relax a little (who am I kidding?). Yesterday we went for a walk in the forest with Lynn, her twins, her friend Jan, Jan's daughter and Jan's daughter's friend. We had a picnic and let the dog run. It was a nice afternoon out.

Life's Varied Tapestry

It has only been a week or so since I last blogged, but so much has happened it is difficult to put it into print without the danger of it ending up as a list of: I did this, I did that. There is nothing more boring.

My aunt and uncle went back to Holland. I was so busy while they were here, that I felt I didn't see much of them. They took the dog on long walks and spent lots of time with the children, whom they adore. The feeling is mutual. One of the days, the dog got a 2 hour walk from Tonny and Peter, then had another 2 hour walk when the Scouts walked to Arley. He was very happy, though somewhat hungry when he got in.

I managed to lose him on a walk in Cleobury this week. I took the car in to have the brakes done, and went for a walk down the River Rea. I'd not been there before. It is really pretty and we had a great wander. On the down side, I turned back after an hour, but the dog didn't. I had to enlist the help of a farmer and his quad bike to locate the errant mutt, not to mention getting Mum to drive around the back lanes looking for him.

The kids had their respective sport's days, which they seemed to enjoy. They don't excel at sport, but they quite enjoy doing it. They have climbing lessons and swimming lessons and gymnastics lessons, so not exactly couch potatoes.
On Sunday, Kate came over and galvenised us into chopping back the garden. We openned up the path and created a mega-mountain of trimmings. This lead to the discovery that a large tree was pushing the fuel tank off its mountings. I had to pay someone to chop down most of the rest of the tree, re-position the fuel tank and take all the foliage away. Expensive business, this gardening.
Also on Sunday, we had a visit from my French friend Steffie, who was in the country with her son Matt, visiting Matt's father. It was great to catch up and put the world to rights for a few hours.Donny had her end-of-term violin concert, which was most enjoyable, yesterday, and today the whole of class six had their leaver's party. This seemed to be an exceptionally noisy disco and a barbeque. They enjoyed it. I stayed outside, trying to preserve what was left of my eardrums.

Incongruity of Life

After an intense chat with the radiographer over the phone, I managed to get an earlier appointment. The radiographer was keen to get me to drop everything, cancel work and race over there for a mammogram, as they had 'spotted' something. Whilst this was worrying, I felt that missing out on the few pence I was due to earn today was unnecessary and somewhat overkill for what would probably turn out to be a badly developed X-ray plate.

I own, what I generously refer to as a 'comedy bosom'. My chest is somewhat over-developed. It reminds me of pictures in gutter-press housewife magazines where some greasy-haired slapper is shown, with her breasts hanging over her waistband, under a caption "My Boobs Ruined My Life!". Occasionally, I have thought about breast reduction surgery, after all, it would be nice to wear clothes that don't hang off me like dust-sheets. I don't think I ever will opt for surgery, though, even if I could afford it. It leaves a scar, they often grow back to the same size within a year or two and anyway, I'm loathe to change anything I was born with, even if they are incongruously large. The thought of the 'something' they had spotted leading to a mastectomy naturally crossed my mind. When I toyed with the idea of surgery, I really hadn't thought about going for a lop-sided look.

Mammograms are not the most graceful of experiences. Someone cheerfully manhandles your boobs onto a freezing cold shelf, whilst chatting about the weather. The corner of the shelf is shoved painfully into your armpit (just relax your shoulders!) and then your boob is flattened by a perspex tray. I'm sure the whole machine is on loan from the Dungeon at the Tower of London. To add to that, each picture is marked on your skin with a felt tip pen, so you end up looking as though you are wearing a see-through polka-dot bikini.

Thankfully everything appears to be normal and all the squishing and flattening confirmed I'm going to live. When I told my kids what it was like they thought it was hilarious. My son in particular was gleeful about never having to have such a thing done, until I explained the procedure for testing men for prostate cancer. I've heard Pokemon is a Rastafarian proctologist. And yes, Saskia, they do wear gloves.

That Friday Feeling

Another mega-week under my belt. Cycling everyday is just fab. I used to cycle all the time when I lived in Germany and also when I spent the summers with my aunt in Holland. I'd forgotten what absolute fun and freedom it is to coast downhill in the sunshine, with the wind in your hair. Love it!

My aunt (a different one) and uncle are over from Holland and are camping on Mum's lawn in their van. They spend whole summers touring Europe and generally being well-to-do crusties. They are passing through this way for a week or so before heading back home. The kids adore them, of course. It is always good to see them. Mum loves the company too. The dog is getting more walks than usual, so even he is happy.

I'd just like a short spot here to whinge about my health. I've finally found a job that I love and I am generally happy with life, only to have numerous bits of my body give up on me. I have so many joints that are creaking, I had to pull out of a bowling match this week. I also have to go back for a second mammogram and ultrasound next week (no reason given, so it's worrying the hell out of me). Hmm. I'm not that old, surely?

The kids have all been out of trips too - Saskia and Eartha got to go to a Horrible Histories theatre about Egypt today. They came back burbling about it. Donny and Mel went on an adventure outing, that involved raft making. Somehow they managed to stay dry, though I have no idea how!

Gentle Walk

Lynn, Jon and their girls came with Donny and me on a walk from Bewdley along the River Severn to Stourport. Despite several weeks of dodgy weather, we were blessed with sunshine. Pal raced up and down and had a good stretch of his legs. Lynn and Jon are inveterate twitchers so every flutter was analysed to species level. We took it slowly and enjoyed a bit of catching up and chatting.

Ducks and Rocks

Every day brings a list of things to do and places to be. There seems to be no day that doesn't have at least two or three items on the list. Sunday last week was a day in question. Swimming lessons followed by a meal out for father's day followed by a Duck Race in Eardisland and finally a bowling match (We won!).
The week involved teaching lots of Bikeability, going climbing, catching up with Steve, catching up with Sarah, shopping, dog walking, catching up with Elaine, and going to Jude's 60th. Jude's party had Becky's band playing. They had a lot of energy and some good tunes, but it was about four times the volume I can stand, so we left early. I just can't do loud music. It batters me like a physical assault. I hated discos and night clubs for the same reason when I was young.
Yesterday, we went to Stonehenge with the Cotswold Druids for a Solstice ritual. There was a fabulous storyteller there, a great 'battle' between the oak and holly kings (summer and winter) and some mad dancing. My girls got to hand out the mead and snacks. It is difficult to get spiritual when there are several hundred tourists photographing you from behind the barriers. I love doing rituals at Stonehenge, but I get more out of them personally when we do dawn ones and we're not on show.
On the way home we called on Andy again to pick up Nick's birthday present - one of Amanda's paintings called Lemon Olive. Nick celebrated his 51st birthday with a Chinese takeaway at Mum's when we finally got back.