I have started the process of packing up my mum’s house, her effects, her little treasures that meant nothing to anyone else but she loved them. It has been a fresh kind of hell seeing small gifts I bought my parents many years ago in their drawers, including a gent’s manicure set I bought for dad when I was eleven.
It has broken me, but I have to do it, I don’t want to delegate the duty, I want to go down memory lane for the last time, but it’s a hard road to travel. But sometimes there is a smile. I found dad’s keyring with ‘ROBIN’ on it. I remember asking him why he’d bought a keyring with that name and his answer was, ‘Because they didn’t have a Terry’.
Daft things, sweet things. The dining table where we had so many happy meals together, family celebrations, it’s gone to a new family now, one in need. The telephone table I sanded down and varnished for them for a present many years ago. I’ve taken down the pictures they bought when they first got the house in the 1970s and mum couldn’t have been more chuffed with ‘the Haywain’ if it had been the original by Constable himself.
I cried when I put her battered slippers in a bin bag, it felt so wrong. Letting go of someone is a long and arduous task. I’ve forewarned my sons that when I go, not to get sad over the treasures I have that will mean little to anyone else – the craft punches and stamps, all the pens and pencils and stationery items I’m obsessed with. You can’t take them with you, but I really do wish we could. Heaven will be sadly lacking without all our precious bits and pieces. And our favourite well-worn slippers.
I am not surprised that the government has offered ex-postmaster and demi-god Alan Bates a pathetic and insulting amount of money to make up for the years he suffered being accused of theft by them. Did we expect anything else? Are they hoping that the heat has died down now so they can get away with further stamping on Mr Bates? It looks that way doesn’t it?
If they stamp down on Alan, they will be stamping down on everyone else waiting for recompense. So Alan must fight on for himself and everyone else behind him. How grossly unfair. Give the man some peace. We must all of us keep commenting on it, keep the plate spinning. The Goliath whom David is fighting cannot be allowed to get to his feet again
I have little idea why there needs to be a feasibility study for a hospital park-and-ride service. It’s been obvious for years to anyone with one eye and a cataract. I have friends who live close by whose streets are daily full of cars from people either visiting or working at the hospital. And good luck in trying to get a space if you’re going up to the hospital on a weekday for a visit, it’s nigh on impossible.
Luckily for us, we live pretty close but if we’ve ever gone, one of us has had to drop the other off and then go back for them later – no chance of us going in together. Even if you aren’t actually visiting the hospital but travelling on Gawber Road, you end up stuck behind traffic queueing to get into the car park. I have no idea how the buses manage to operate there, the drivers must be tearing out their hair. If ever there was a problem that needed tackling, it’s that one.
