Great Railway Journeys.

I’ve always wanted to travel through Europe on the Orient Express. Just imagine, getting on a train in Paris and getting off in Istanbul, wow !

Apparently it started in1883 and after leaving Paris, it would steam through the Alps, Budapest and Bucharest to Constantinople, “Packed with grandees and unheard of luxuries such as soap by the washbasins, reports swiftly came back of its exquisite food, excellent wine and impeccable service.”

Unfortunately the nearest I got to that this year was a trip to Birmingham recently by train, brought about because the bad weather prevented us going in the car.

The “experience” started in the ticket office when I had to inform the ticket vendor that I was on medication for high blood pressure, and he wasn’t helping matters coming out with those sorts of  ridiculous prices. Adding insult to injury, he suggested we take out a Senior Rail Card to bring down the cost, without having to ask our ages !

The journey itself started out reasonably well, but as I settled back to let the ‘train take the strain’, I slowly became aware of a repetitive knocking sound which had me thinking a wheel bearing had gone on our carriage. I was just about to reach for the emergency chord when Mrs N pointed out a certain ‘yoof’ across the aisle with ear phones in, from where the noise was emanating.

After a brief stop to change trains, and take out a mortgage on two ‘Medium Lattes’ that turned out be coffee with shaving foam on top, we resumed our journey.

As we approached  Sheffield station  we noticed a large contingency of Railway Police, some with dogs, herding a crowd of football fans along the platform, and guess which train they were getting on ! So we had to endure the next 40 minutes being serenaded with, ‘who ate all the pies’ by a group of  ‘merry’ men ominously blocking the aisle as there were no seats, and spilling lager everywhere.  Thankfully, they left at Derby and we continued to our destination in relative peace.

And why should we put ourselves through any of this misery, you may ask?

Well this happened to be very special journey indeed. It was to meet the newest addition to our family, baby Grandson Isaac who was born just the week before, and it sure was worth it.  Let’s just say, It may not have been a trip on the Orient Express, but it was certainly one of the Great Railway Journeys of our lives.

Rest In Peas.

It was a lovely sunny morning when Grandma was driving three year old Emma to nursery recently.  Munching away on a biscuit, and no doubt dropping crumbs all over my newly cleaned car, the little one spotted a man on a tractor ploughing a field.

Emma....“What’s that mister doing over there Grandma ?”

Grandma....“He’s a farmer sweetheart, digging his soil like Grandad does ”.

Emma....“No Grandma, Grandad’s not a Farmer”.

Grandma....“Well what is he then darling ?”

Emma....“He’s an Allotment, silly”.

Well I never! Stereotyped by a bloomin' three year old, I ask you !

When Grandma told me this little anecdote, I was quite amused, but it also set me thinking.

Is this how I’m seen now by my family in my later years, and what’s more, is this what I’ll be remembered for when I’m gone, having an allotment ?

What about what I did in my working life, will I be remembered for that? and am I not now a writer blogger, guitar player and local historian even (well I do find old things on the plot).
 
All these other talents so obviously invisible to this poor unfortunate child, perhaps I need to work on my image a little more before it’s too late.  

But you know what they say, “out of the mouths of babes” and all that, and I suppose I ought to be grateful really that she doesn’t describe me as a pub or a betting shop. But please little Emma, if I am to be an allotment in your eyes, can I be a well tended, fertile and productive contribution to the horticultural world, and not the weed infested and pest ridden entity that I am at the moment.

Now I’ve thought about it  I quite like the idea, and I suppose it wouldn’t be so bad after all to be remembered for my allotment  by my family when I’m gone, or even as one by Emma. I can just see it now :-

                                         

A Happy Happening.

We bloggers can kid ourselves at times that the whole world out there is listening to our inane babblings, when in reality we know that’s just not so.

In all honesty I have  little idea who does actually read this blog, apart from the one, and  may I say very erudite soul, who kindly comments, as I’ve never mastered the art of monitoring it. The few other readers I did know about, have long since drifted to who knows where, because of the hiatus, and who can blame them.

I suppose blogging’s a bit like a musical performance in a way, and I use that analogy loosely as regards mine, in that if no one is listening you do wonder if it's worth continuing, regardless.

Well of course it is, I say, because though you may desire an external audience as a measure of your ability, it isn’t a necessity.  You're also your own audience, and can simply play for your own enjoyment if you wish.

So I’m making the following announcement to myself today, for the sheer joy of it, but if anyone else wants to bask in my pleasure for a while, then you're very welcome.

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At 7:00 a.m.today, the 1st of October 2012, a new human being came into this world, when our latest granddaughter was born.

Yes I'm proud to announce that we have another little Netalling in the family, who weighed in at a healthy bouncing 9lbs 2 ozs, in old money.

Welcome to the world little Charlotte, we have all long awaited you're arrival, especially you’re two big sisters Sophie and Emma.

I know they all look very much the same at this stage, as if they’ve just done a couple of rounds with Mike Tyson, and yes I may be a little biased, but isn’t she adorable.

Our new little Netalling.

The Christening

Following on from the last post.

Family and friends gathered at the old village church with intermittent sun highlighting Forget- me-nots and Bluebells in the church grounds, and a threat of rain in the clouds above.


The glum regular parishioners eyed our merry group with some suspicion as we entered the church, until they spotted the beautiful Emma in all her christening finery to melt their hearts and remind them there was a baptism that day, some even smiled.

In true Church of England style, the building was freezing, and our breaths “like pious incense rose”, as the poem says. I know they are down to their last £500 million at the moment, but you'd have thought they’d put the heating on for half an hour for us hypocritical non-regulars, we are just not used to it. After all, some of these poor people should have still been in bed nursing a hangover from Saturday night.

The service went without any hitches, and Emma behaved impeccably throughout, until the vicar poured the water on her head. She didn’t cry however, but gave him a look that was a mixture of bewilderment and indignation, and if she could speak I’m sure she would have been saying, “What do you think you’re doing, you idiot?”

Of course it was down to Grandad to provide the entertainment, and he duly obliged.

At the end of the service, the Vicar made his way down the aisle shaking hands with everybody in the congregation. As he got to me he held out his hand and said “Pleased to meet you”. A little strange I thought, but how nice, so I warmly shook his hand and repeated “Pleased to meet you” back to him. He smiled, but looked a bit perplexed.

Back at the family gathering I noticed a small group, including my daughter, laughing quite loudly and looking in my direction, so I sidled over to see what the joke was.

“You know when you shook the vicar’s hand……what did you say to him”? She asked.

“Pleased to meet you”, I said, “like he said to me”.

“No he didn’t”, she told me, laughing even louder by now, “he was saying……. Peace Be With You”.

Ooops.

A very special occasion.

I didn't go to the allotment last Sunday due to a very special occasion, the christening of our 7 month old grand-daughter, Emma.

If one day you read this Emma, thankyou for making us the proudest of grandparents ever.

"May the strength of the wind and the light of the sun,
The softness of the rain and the mystery of the moon
Reach you and fill you.
May beauty delight you and happiness uplift you,
May wonder fulfil you and love surround you.
May your step be steady and your arm be strong,
May your heart be peaceful and your word be true.
May you seek to learn, may you learn to live,
May you live to love, and may you love - always."
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