Oh dear such a very long time since I wrote my blog and so very, very much has happened. Tumultuous 9 or so months to say the very least. Some of the most tumultuous of…my.. life.
Will tell all some day.
Meanwhile the relationship with vile, OFT continues to deteriorate. For the sake of recording will note the petty nastinesses exchanged between us on a daily basis, going forward.
Today.
Driving to work on a foul, windy, rainy day, so windy that a car was stopped in front of me, hazard lights on while the driver got out and had to haul at branches to clear a tree blockage. Chap coming other way also got out and the two of them manfully cleared the highway. I remained in car listening to Radio 4. Did NOT want to get my uniform dirty.
Then noticed my petrol guage at 0. Utter 0
Thought about how nasty OFT is. Lent him my car yesterday or, too his for horse towing purposes so he had to use mine. It was on fuel reserve. Somewhere somehow within his miserable, mean cerebral cortex I thought it might occur to him to fill it up so I would have sufficient fuel to get to work today but no.
It was doggone empty. Had to pull off the highway to fill up. £30 worth only then zipping on, into work.
Most husbands, one hopes, would be protective about their wives and breakdown in the lanes with fuel outage in the foulest of weather. Not OFT.
I will get him back. You watch. I will. The daily unkindnesses will continue….on both sides
Woke after a full 9 and 1/2 hours sleep to the sounds of exotic unfamiliar birds, occasionally chirruping over the balcony in the garden and the lapping of the sea on the soft, clean white sand. Slide balcony open to admit the cool morning air. Sounds like a holiday brochure but it is the actuality of this “Madre Soltera” holiday Amazing levels of sleep achieved. Not less than 8 hours a night and occasionally 10 None of the restless all- night fidgeting of the marital bed at home. Such bliss to be able to turn on light and rustle up a nurofen without fear of waking himself. Not sure I was ever cut out for sharing a bed. V. Woolf was almost certainly right. The only dignity is in being alone
Watching the superbowl piped live into the garden of our hotel. A great many Americans and Canadians here. Not a word of English english to be heard… quite refreshing really except that they swear lot by the pool when they get drunk and start on the Tequilas and gin as early as 11am ….
The hotel staff had made a supreme effort with the catering to reflect the importance of the event. Go Kansas City Chiefs – I say. Rhianna at half time was superb.
What an amazing woman. Apparently she hasn’t performed live since 2018
In hot, tropical place for half term Last night at major, London airport where the place heaved and throbbed with families hell bent on quitting freezing UK.
Many had skis in bags and strapped to the side of suitcases and snowboards. I was reminded it is THE big skiing holiday of the year.
Apparently, the ski slopes are suffering a dirth of snow this year due to global warming? That did not seem to deter the world, his wife, and their young children who swarmed about the smart hotels and bars chattering excitedly ..
Flew out today and as ever, despite the most careful attention to placing liquids in my hand luggage into plastic bags, I was busted and had to be filtered off into a special search queue This time the woman stared at the scanner screen and then into my bag and back and forth for dome time before dipping into my make up bag.
She emerged triumphant, and raised aloft an ancient, dessicated mascara wand, used to remove clumps.
See, there is no liquid in it. I wanted to say.
What a waste of time. From there to duty free shopping and breakfast at Pret a Manger. What delicious food when you are starving and have risen at a truly ungodly hour.
But oh! the crowds. An utter, full on bunfight of people queuing 2 deep to just view the sandwiches, members of staff frantically trying to refill shelves and shouts of “Latte” and “Mocha” from behind the counter.
Above all the holiday made me think of family trips in the past. Sad really. When we all could be persuaded to holiday together And when the children were young enough to need pushchairs bag tagged and folder onto the carousel.
How very quickly it all goes by. On this trip I am in “Madre soltera” mode. Living in the moment with delightful middle ewe lamb There will be no phone calls made to home, no photos sent. No communications about “Did you arrive safely?” Or “How is the food?” Splendid isolation?.
The meal was conducted in complete silence. Only the sound of the river, babbling past outside, could be heard.
He stared fixedly at his phone munching muesli and his stupid ryvita and marmalade.
I listened to Radio 4 and looked out of the window. What a horrible thing to have to endure. Years ago someone I did a holiday job with said to me, “Marriage, it is a mugs game”
Uh Oh. We are driving to a drinks party at 12 noon and I get my diary out. He is driving. We were introduced to a local couple- end of Sept. I have asked them to lunch between Xmas and New Year I did not tell Old Father Thames this until today.
Both of us, in the car, Sunday lunch party in finery all about to go out and be jolly.
“I was thinking of asking the (blank blanks) to lunch end of December.”
Him. Significant pause “I shouldn’t bother if \i were you”
Me. Pause “Oh! why not?”
Him. Long significant pause. “Because things are not going at all well between us.. This is hardly the time to be making new friends”
Me: Unphased. “Oh! well, I’ll just ask them myself then”
Can you ever truly become a non-Christian? Are we inevitably pulled back to Faith as we age? I have spent years professing my agnosticism, defending, explaining, trumpeting, arguing with Jehovah’s witnesses in my own car park when they come round with leaflets and lovely smiles.
And yet today, I turn on the radio. The news I am half asleep. Interesting. The Queen Consort is not to have Ladies-in-waiting but instead, “Queens companions”. Anne Glenconner said on Woman’s Hour this week “Such a shame – it was so lovely after official functions to be able to go up to Princess Margaret’s apartments after a busy day and laugh and have a drink”.
Then after the news. The “Daily Service” to be broadcast from Glasgow. Too sleepy to turn radio off. The first hymn is, “O come Emmanuel“. In the key of E minor and sung so beautifully. Memories of church services of my youth come flooding back. Standing beside parents and other loved ones in church. In school chapel, in my grey cloak, red lining with school friends singing our hearts out. I lean out of bed and turn it up. Can’t help it.
Anne Glenconner, aged 90, on Woman’s Hour today. Good to hear, again. I was one of the many readers (or rather listeners – thank you Audible) of her first book 2017 “Lady in Waiting” who wrote in to her afterwards.
I wrote, simply that it was marvellous she had decided to read her story herself and not employ an actress for the purpose, as so many on audible do
The most moving parts of her book (and there were many) was the tale of the boy who drowned in the ornamental fountain in her stately home garden, while her 21st birthday “coming out” party was in progress. That and the demise of her love affair with “Johnny” Spencer (Viscount Althorp at the time) who was forced to reject her because of the alleged madness in her family which might out in future children.
Telling the story, so many years later in her own voice, relayed through my headphones on a dog walk, the profound sadness of early disappointment in love was very moving.
Just think though if he – Johnny Spencer, had married her. History would have been very different. There would have been no Lady Diana Spencer……
But today she spoke on Woman’s Hour of how best to cope with a truly horrible, abusive husband. (Colin, Glenconner) and she advised presenter Emma Barnett and the Listeners that the best thing to do was to, “Take a lover”
The reasons for doing so were listed. “I hope I have not shocked anyone” she said apologetically at the end. Well.. not me. Only shocked that she made it sound so easy, like going to Supermarket or perhaps Fortnums and Mason and just….picking one up.
Have discussed this with eldest child a number of times. “Not that I want a lover or anything or am in a position to “take” one but what if I did? No one ever seems to…..”
“You need to finesse your signalling Mother” He said, “It is all in the signalling. You are meeting men all the time through your work and play but you don’t signal correctly”
I have therefore decided to practice flirting or “signalling” just for fun. So here goes.
Today.
Signalling ops 3 so far and it is only just after 3pm.
Market town near me where I went to the post office carrying a heavy, cardboard box. 1) A man offered me a place ahead of him in the queue. Soft, Irish accent. Silver fox type. Bit short but otherwise worth practising on. Instead of grunting “Thanks” and moving up the queue I tried to be genuinely charming. Lots of eye contact and many “How kind”s
2) Also said very friendly, smiley hello to the nice man behind the counter there who I have met a number of times and who always lends me masking tape when my parcels look as they could fall open in transit.
3) Just now, at work, a tall man in green, work was following me down the corridoor with a tape measure dangling from his right hand. I glanced back flirtatiously (very hard to do when wearing a mask but eyes flashing, working hard to compensate)
“Don’t worry, I’m not following you.” he said lightheartedly.
“Oh I do hope not!” I said chuckling, “specially not with a tape measure, I was wondering if you might be er taking my measurements” we both laughed and went our separate ways.
So …. good signalling practice today. 3 opportunities. I must get used to this…
Incredible. Not even half an hour at work and have had micro squabbles with 2 people already
1)Went to look at work list and a woman seated to my right on a stool, commented on my jacket saying it looked “Scrubby”
Was not sure if she said “scrappy” or what. Looked at her over top of my mask, mustering my most lofty, imperious attitude – ( body language saying “I am meant to be checking a worklist thank you very much not listening to a critique of my attire”) and said “Sorry?”
She said, “well I mean, it is all scrubby, looks all screwed up”
Turning back to worklist and scanning it I said, “Oh sorry about that. I carry many things in my handbag but an iron is not one of them”
Silence. I looked at list noting responsibilities and action plan for the day She sat with her cronies I could see out of the corner of my eye.
“I was only joking” she said quietly. Sounding faintly hurt. “And so was I” I replied and made as if to walk out. This sequence was repeated twice. (Her) “I was….er only joking” Me, “I know and so was I” Honestly. Dont people know better than to comment on other people’s appearance on a foul, wet, Monday morning?.
A fine start to the week indeed
Next I was in the middle of a procedure, hazardous chemicals in clearly signposted “no entry” room when I glimpsed the door open and before I could look up a burly, heavily tatooed arm disappearing out of the door.
Indredible again! Don’t people know to knock on the door which has a designated, well reconised “Do not enter, danger” sign on it?
I stopped what I was doing went out and intercepted him in the coridoor.
“You just came into my room without knocking when it says Hazardous material etc and I had a member of the public in there”
I was aghast.
He came over all cheeky chappy. ” Oh yeah I did well sorry love just went through wrong door”
Well please DONT. Please observe the signs outside the room and at least knock before you barge in!
I turned away crossly. 2 squabbles and counting……..
Disgusting weather and an accident on the ring road. Hey ho. Any old Monday morning. Thank God for Radio 4
The River Files 