Saturday 22 June 2013. Day 40.
This note I found to be empty [[2023-02-13]]
Lunch at Lewinnick Lodge with Jez and Jeremy Renals?
Sunday 23 June 2013. Day 41.
Mum is concerned. She has a rapidly developing cold and does not want to pass it to Nic and Jez, who along with Sarah and Jacob should be coming over for a late lunch this afternoon. Nic is now almost one week overdue to give birth. I phone Jez late morning and leave a message on his phone. I then call Sarah who succeeds in speaking to Nic. They are all untroubled by the risks posed by colds. This is just as well as Niki is also full of a cold and I feel less that average.
Mum and dad set to work in preparation for our meal. We have an early, light lunch and then Niki and I head off to have a St Austell afternoon out. At Asda Niki buys a couple of pairs of linen trousers to replace those she has worn out. We also stock up on cold and flu preparations before returning to 2A. Asda is, as ever, busy beyond belief.
At the house I find, edit and post the best photo that I can find from those I took yesterday. The two Jeremy’s smiling and joking. I really enjoy meeting new people and meeting new people with whom we have a family connection is especially good to do. All that we now need to do is work out that family connection!
After lunch I finish reading “Somme Mud” by EFP Lynch, a book that really lives up to its billing as it gives such a vivid insight into the horrors of that war as experienced through the eyes of a young soldier. Lynch developed good soldiering skills. He was an advocate of not overthinking things and also understood that luck has a tremendous part to play in wartime survival.
Start to finish, ten days to read. I don’t think that I started reading as soon as I bought the book.
Jez and Nic arrive. They are followed soon after by Sarah and Jacob. Grandpa is busy attending to the meal. Mum is self-conscious about her cold.
The main event is roast pork, crackling, roast potatoes, four vegetables and apple sauce. For this the stove is going full tilt, there are two hot plates, heating plates and serving dishes. The heat in the kitchen is intense. The dining table has been set. I bring Jacob’s high chair into the dining room and Sarah sets it up and attaches the tray.
I open a bottle of Rioja from the case I had delivered here from Naked wines. It tastes quite middling as reds go. Not too heavy and yet not thin. There are bottles in reserve which is where they stay as everyone is drinking carefully.
The food is delicious. We have a small upset with Jacob’s plate of food. Evie, who has been here for almost a week, gets to work clearing up the morsels that meet her taste. I get the rest with a handy dessert spoon. The carpet is none the worse. Pudding arrives – raspberries ans strawberries with added sweeteners. Dad has Candarel, we get sugar. Then there is a choice of topping, double cream, clotted cream or ice cream.
After our meal we retire to the lounge where Jacob gets on with the business of being a toddler. Toddlers need to learn about the world as quickly as possible. Adults ensure that these lessons are broadly achieved in as safe a manner as possible. Sometimes there is a clash. Jacob is experimenting with the reclining chair. Extending it and retracting it. He is amused by his power to get the chair to do his bidding. He is also a fan of a calculator cum clip that usually resides on the side of the fridge held by a magnet. Jacob uses this object as a phone. He seems to mimic what he has heard his mother say many times. “Hello, ummm”.
Rubbing his eyes, arms held up behind his head, these are signals that Jacob is tiring. Sarah gets a nappy change done and then it is time to restow Jacob and his kit into their loaned from Lesley car and they set off for home and bath and bed time.
Nic is flagging, she says that she wants to go to bed. Who could blame her. Her soon to be born son has little room iin which to manoeuvre. She can feel him moving limbs around but now that he has descended in preparation for birth he has limited opportunities to move around. Jez, spent much of last night playing on his PS3 and is also tired. They set off for home. Perhaps tonight will be the night that baby decides to make his appearance?
With a cup of tea or a hot cold cure we sit down to watch the story of our sun on tv. The planetary and interplanetary magic continues with a programme about how the continents of earth were formed from an initial large landmass.
It is time for bed. Niki takes another powder, sprinkles masses of Olbas oil onto a tissue and we retire. Sarah with much to do at home finds time to view the moon which is exceptionally bright and clear. We won’t know this until tomorrow when I check my phone and see her “WhatsApp” message.
Monday 24 June 2013. Day 42.
Mum and Niki have horrible colds despite taking paracetamol in various forms yesterday and through the night. I have some catargh but so far have not had the streaming nose and more mobile catargh that they have. Dad also seems to have evaded the problem. The morning started slowly as I considered options for the fitting of the exhaust. Niki and I walked. It felt good to be out in the “plein air”. We did not go far, just around the corner to the shop to buy the I paper. Dad and I measured the width of Colin’s gateway with a view to putting the van on the hard standing. The gateway was wide enough but has a horrible projecting wall left front. The hard standing is covered in granite chippings and so I positioned the van over the kerb at Jez suggestion. The drop kerb created a crawl space and the dry relatively flat surface will be ideal.
With the tools and parts out of the van I started work. Niki worked on cleaning the interior of the van. Removing the old section of exhaust required me to cut through three bolts on the rusted clamp where the pipe has holed and is blowing. With a liberal dose of WD40 on the two spring tensioned bolts the clamp onto the front pipe came undone. During the process I got a liberal showering of rust particles some of which entered my eyes despite the fact that I wore my glasses. Under three quarters of an hour and things are ready for the new pipe to be test fitted. It is the correct length and shape. Hurrah!
Sadly the bolts that the motor factor has supplied are of too large a diameter to fit through the holes on the exhaust. I take a trip back to the factor where they fail to find any suitable bolts. At their suggestion I visit a fastenings specialist who has exactly what I need. I worm my way back under the van after a mouthful of tea. Sliding bolts and other paraphenalia into place I get the exhaust pipe up and into place and tighten the nuts finger tight. I work myself out from under the van and cut the back of my hand on a sharp edge underneath the driver side footboard. Blood pools and then stops. I start the van and things are sounding quieter already. Wiggling the exhaust pipe around to ensure both joints are as well aligned as possible I then start to tighten the nuts. A little nip on each to ensure they are done up evenly before again starting the engine. The exhaust gases seem to be travelling along the pipe through the silencer and out of end as they should. I cup my hand over the end of the pipe and there is solid back pressure. Job done. I savour the moment. Not the most complex repair job but a satisfying feeling for me none the less. I cannot help thinking that before my illness I would have tackled this job with such gusto that I would not have given it a second thought. These days every job it seems is preceeded by a mental battle.
Our supper of braised beef casserole is ready. Dad has bought some Cornish new potatoes and spinach to complement the dish. We sit and eat at the kitchen table. Glasses of red wine are poured. The sun continues to shine. It is probably the best weather since we have arrived in Cornwall over one week ago.
After supper I settle into a chair to write up my notes. Sarah telephones to say that her Scenic has been repaired. The cure for the problem, the removal and replacement of the fuel filter which has become totally blocked. We discussed options for the car and Sarah will sell her as she has lost confidence in the vehicle. Such a shame that such a promising vehicle has become such a bad experience. We agree that Sarah should drop the car off here. I will clean the car and photograph it tomorrow. I drive Sarah and Jacob over to Lesley’s so that Sarah can reclaim Lesley’s car which she has loaned until she gets her own car sorted out. I drive the Scenic back to mum and dad’s. It is a little noisy, a little smoky and in need of a good clean.
I settle back into my chair and read emails. The tv is on, Niki is watching Rick Stein who is in India where he is being filmed whilst collecting and cooking curry recipes. Needless to say there is a book!
Dad has a problem with his computer which I diagnose and resolve. Java wants to install an update. We get this done and dad determines that it is time for a drink – a couple of medicinal whiskys follow. Then time for bed.
Tuesday 25 June 2013. Day 43.
It is hard to believe that we have been parked up on the roadside at PL25 3DR for nine days? We are waiting for baby to make his appearance.
The days pass quickly. Today I valet the inside of Sarah’s Scenic. The design is a triumph of versatility. The carpets of Sarah’s car are filled with sand. I clean and clean but still golden grains of sand keep appearing. They are swept away by my vacuuming to be replaced by yet others.
The seats come out. Personal items come out. I clean. I pause and drink tea. By mid afternoon I decide that enough is enough. Photographs are taken as seats get refitted. I take the unused items from the exhaust repair back to Mill Auto and obtain my credit.
Wednesday 26 June 2013. Day 44.
Mum and Niki are still thick with colds this morning. We are late in for breakfast. I woke at six, fiddled around with the nexus for almost an hour and then caught up with some sleep. At least we were in and tucking into porridge before dad returned from walking the dog. He had been chatting, hence his delay. The morning passed and I didn’t achieve much. A couple of unanswered calls to Uncle Edwin. A book purchase via Kindle. That sort of thing. Then I got into the Hewitt v Brown match and became a Wimbledon couch potato.
In the afternoon the Wimbledon thing was put to one side for a while as I perused my WW1 books. Then Uncle Ed called back and we spent three quarters of an hour discussing Bob’s war and our family tree. There is work to be done to turn up information on Francis 1 and Francis 2 as Ed calls them. perhaps I will spend some coin on Ancestry…
Dad returned from the funeral of a former Wadebridge firefighter. We spoke of Geoff Dyke, his son Steve, daughter Liz, of Ray Tancock, Steve Jewell and other names that for me were blasts from a now distant past.
Niki prepares a spaghetti bolognaise for supper. Jez arrives and we get to work loading his van with what remains of dad’s garden shed. Three generations of Renals men against rotted pine! Well we had some fun. Jez in great form showed the old men what youth has in abundance – vitality.
Off he goes in a cloud of diesel fumes to dispose of the decrepit building. Dad worries that Nic is on her own. My reassurances that Nic has a mobile phone and the ability to look after herself seem not to carry weight.
Sarah phones. A quiet day at work until fifteen minutes before she is due to leave and a phone call that lasts thirty minutes into her own time. The joys of employment.
Supper is on the table as the game between Roger Federer and Ukranian Sergiy Stakhovsky ends. Federer is out. Last year’s winner has been swept away. Earlier we watched Murray who seems in impeccable form.
Spag bol followed by peaches and strawberries. Oh and lashings of clotted cream and cornish ice cream from Kellys.
It has been a bad day at Wimbledon with a lot of premature retirements due to injury and of course a few scalps. The fans will love this – I was there when…
Jez returns as he said he would with wood, dad’s empty bag and a sharp saw oh and instructions for me for tomorrow.
Then a spot of tv – horizon and the new knowledge about black holes – fascinating. Mum hunkered down in the dining room watched Sir Alan and a bunch of wannabees perform their roles in a tv entertainment programme.
Baby seems content to wait yet another day.
Thursday 27 June 2013. Day 45.
Catch up Thursday?
Immediately after breakfast I’m out of the door and off with Sarah’s car to get it hand-washed. A group of around six men have a set up to the rear of the filling station on the by-pass road. For six pounds they treat the wheels with a chemical to remove brake grime. The body work gets treated with anothe chemical and then the whole vehicle is pressure washed. This cleans off the worst of the grime. Then the three lads that do the “wet-work” get going with a wash wax and the car disappears under white bubbles. The pressure washing removes this and the car is driven out and into the area reserved for drying off. Three other guys now get to work removing the water from the roof and panels. Then the wheels get a wipe down and the tyres get coated with a form of tyre-slik to make them sparkle. The whole job takes about ten to twelve minutes during which time four cars have been washed and dried. Even so a healthy queue has built up. I’m off to Halfords to buy some auto solvol polish for Niki and a cleaning bucket and some alloy wheel cleaner for Brigitte. Whilst there I make use of the car park to get some photos of the now gleaming Scenic.
Back at the house it is time for a cuppa. Getting Niki’s iPad fired up got us in touch with Graham in Cyprus. He is holding the fort whilst Mary is in Exeter with David. Six weeks of juggling house sitting, house and pool cleaning and the temperatures are hot. Graham has managed to get our pool electrolysis system functioning again which is welcome news.
David has purchased a third classic car which I correctly guessed to be a Porsche 911 carrera with a whale tail. I am looking forward to seeing photos and perhaps to seeing the car.
The tv is on in the house as Niki and I get sucked into the hubris of Wimbledon 2013. With so many top names dropping out yesterday it is looking favourable towards a certain Scot in the Gentlemen’s Singles event. Watching Serena Williams on court is is easy to see why she is ranked number one in the Women’s tournament.
A toasted cheese and ham sandwich for lunch brings forward a request from Mum to show her and dad my method for minimising the amount of butter left on the preparation board. Putting the buttered sides together – simples! Oh and a yummy lunch into the bargain. Niki and I walk around the block, stopping at the local shop en route to buy an iPaper.
Afternoon sees dad and I getting his storage area alongside the garden shed space tidied up. Cutting the old section of roof to size is harder than we allow for because each of the walls of his storage for bins is at askew. As rain starts to fall we pack up for the day.
In the kitchen mum has been at work preparing supper, a chicken is roasting and smelling delicious. In the lounge Djokovitch is battling B Reynolds in what ultimately turns out to be a one sided match as the determined Serb defeats the American.
After tea we take the Scenic up to Sarah’s. Jacob is holding court running around in the altogther having just been bathed. “Hello. Hello. Hello”, he says. We all join in as he pulls out books for us to read to him. Some, those with battery powered sounds cause Jacob to dance about and smile.
Later dressed for bed, Jacob, again holding court is taking toys from his toy box in the lounge. Out they come one after another. They get inspected, buttons are prodded to reproduce musical chimes and sounds. Some cause amusement. Others are just noisy. The games continue until a tired Jacob heads for bed on Niki’s arm.
He settles to sleep and we watch tv in the lounge as his Angel alarm provides reasurrance with its silent ticking display and audible alarm.
Later Jacob wakes, perhaps a bit nasal? Niki settles him off but he’s awake again when Sarah comes into the house. Sarah lifts him and gives him a cuddle. Time for us to leave, before Jacob becomes too wide awake for his own good.
It is still light out as we drive back into town. Parked and into the van. Another day waiting for the arrival of baby Renals passes.
Friday 28 June 2013. Day 46.
Our late night finds us still in bed as Dad pulls the car back into the driveway after his morning walk with Lady. We hop out of bed and dress smartish. Entering the house we catch Dad’s remark about getting to bed earlier at night. He’s on form. Getting himself ready for a round of golf with longtime golfing pal Dennis. Saffron buns are halved, buttered, the two layers filled with slices of cheddar cheese and the whole wrapped in cling film.
At a quarter to ten dad is out of the door and off to collect Dennis. We are about ready to tuck in to our porridge. Later Barry appears with the Kia. His pal has serviced the car and put it through an MOT. The road tax has been bought on-line. Lorraine honks the horn on her car as she passes the house before turning around and returning to park.
In bounces Evie. Tail wagging and licking tongue, the dog is an unrestrained bundle of nervous energy. News is exchanged over cups of tea at the kitchen table. It better suits Barry to sit in a higher chair. Time ticks by and Niki and I head off in search of a replacement pair of denim jeans for me. The mission is a failure. Too many people. All of whom it seems have bought the same size garment as I am looking to buy.
It is time for lunch. Then afternoon tennis. Laura Robson wins her centre court match against her Columbian opponent. Then I get to work on the laptop and phone to nail down the best insurance offer for Brigitte for 2013. The insurers recommended by the Camping and Caravanning Club win out. When the value of our van is under £25,000 their agent says our premium will be sub £300.
I discuss with Sarah the idea of finding a car at Toms’ and trading the Scenic against the replacement. We agree that this approach is worth trying. It will be down to me to do the research, tomorrow.
Then it is time to drive down to London Apprentice to have supper with Mr Croft and Ms Matthews. The legendary Matthews pasty turns out to be the real deal. There is even a gluten free pasty pie for Niki – hurrah! Furthermore Ms M is a Bowen practitioner. Liv, Paul and now Mandy. The serendipity of this is amazing. My arms get elevated. I get poked and prodded, sometimes a little painfully. I’m to get a session in due course and this initial investigatory work will prepare the way.
We chat about all manner of things. Films, astronomy, black holes, Prof Brian Cox, Derren Brown, Saville, Kevin Viner, the list could go on and on. A good evening.
To bed with a cold powder and a glass of malt. Hoping to beat the symptoms of the recurring cold but not confident.
Saturday 29 June 2013. Day 47.
Its half past eight says Niki. Time to get up. My dry throat and blocked nose suggest that the cold is winning.
Sunday 30 June 2013. Day 48.
At about one twenty five in the morning my phone will have emitted its beep, beep beep, beep beep beep tone but I heard nothing. At three thirty, wakened by passing revellers on their way home from a night out in town, I took myself off to the loo for a much needed pee. Getting back into bed, I was awake enough to think that my phone, which I had put on charge before retiring, would now be charged.
Activating the screen on the phone brought up a big red circle with an envelope symbol over a number one – I have a text message. I open the message to find that Jez has texted me with the news that Nicola has given birth. A night of disturbed sleep continues to be disturbed.
I find it hard to settle as yet more revellers make their noisy – simging Christmas carols at the top of their voices – way home. Still others pass by chanting what are presumably football chants. A mix of swear words and facile comments. Someone decides to tap on the side of the van as they pass. I temper the urge to tell them where to go.
All the while, my cold has continued to develop despite the regular doses of paracetamol. Olbas oil which Niki was liberally spreading around a week or so previous is now almost ineffective. I sprinkle some onto a tissue and attempt to inhale the vapour but have no sense of having cleared any nasal passages, beyond a light tingling sensation.
Eventually sleep of a sort comes and Niki and I both sleep fitfully until I hear dad’s car returning from the morning walk routine. Niki and I get up and enter the house. We breakfast as mum and dad enjoy a cup of tea. Dad also has a buttered saffron bun and some some slices of cheddar cheese, his post dog walking treat. The dog also gets cheese, wrapped around a tablet that she must take. If Evie were here she too would be fed cheese. Rosie, the Iranian cat, is in for a treat today, she gets some cheese flaked under her nose. What is more, she gobbles up the cheese.
Niki and I content ourselves with porridge, banana and honey – we all have our rituals it seems.
I message Sarah and discover that she has already been around to see baby Isaac James. Whats App soon furnishes photos from Sarah’s phone to my phone and we are getting our first glimpses of the newest family member.
I phone Lorraine with the news. She has a vexed problem with her computer and so I agree to let her have more news as and when I get it.
My cold is monopolising my day and so I let Jez and Nicola know that it would really be better for Isaac if we did our introductions tomorrow. I then flop into a chair and watch the MotoGP – Rossi secures his eightieth win after a barren two and a half years. Then follows a round up of yesterday’s start of the Tour – what a disaster. A coach stuck under the finish line barrier, crashes into poorly erected barriers and colliding cyclists. Coincidentally, I’m thinking of buying a bicycle for use while we are travelling around with Brigitte.
Lunch, roast beef is served in the dining room, the tv is on so that I can watch the British F1 GP – pure indulgence. As we munch away the drivers get down to work. Eight laps out, Lewis Hamilton, who started in pole position for his Mercedes team suffers the first of three or four high speed tyre failures that come to mark this race. Hamilton limps back to the pits and re-emerges in last place. The race progresses. At some stage during the race, when the dishes from the first course were being cleared away. Mum was lifting the dish containing the remnants of the cauliflour cheese. A slight error of judgement brought said dish into contact with my glass of red wine. I managed to catch the glass but not before much of its contents had been spilled onto the table cloth. In a swift quiet manoeuvre I had the cloth off of the table and in the sink soaking and no damage was done. Meanwhile on track, the safety car is deployed after another driver’s tyre explodes whilst he is travelling at speed and shards of tyre debris are spread dangerously across the track. At race end Hamilton has recovered to fourth place. His team mate is the race winner. Webber, soon to leave Red Bull scores a runner up place as Vettel records a DNF. What an afternoon.
Early evening and Sarah sends a few more photos to complement those she has posted on Facebook. Sarah will be early to bed tonight. We spoke to Jez and Nicola by phone earlier and it seems that they have seen the wisdom in not exposing Isaac to the cold today. There will have been plenty of visitors for all of them and tomorrow will be a new day.
I get Niki to call Tass and after they have discussed things Izzy and Isaac, I get to talk with her about bicycles. After perhaps twenty minutes talking I gather that Tass believes bicycles with bigger wheels “ride better” and that Tass’ reservations about the Bianchi bike are unfounded as a 622 wheel is a road size wheel. Phew!
The first of the new series of Top Gear proves to be as entertaining as the show about the geology of our planet proves to be factual. Good old BBC, they have a knack for producing some good tv (or perhaps it is the outside production companies that they use that have “the knack?”).
At about nine pm dad asks “Would anybody like a drink?” The standard tipple is whisky. Three of us have a drink. Mum chooses to have water in order that she can take her remaining tablets before bed.
By a quarter to ten a second round has been served for those who wish to have a second drink and dad, having drunk his, is ready to head for bed. Good nights are said and dad is away. The programme ends at ten and we all head away.
Back in the van I know that I need to get my rememberings down lest they like the wine stains get washed from my rather open weave memory.
Monday 1 July 2013. Day 49.
Perhaps it is down to the effect of having a cold, we rise at just after nine and I don’t feel rested. Breakfast follows its pattern. I wash up onto the lazy boy style sofa. Achievements of the day, getting the VW Golf insurance whilst SORNed sorted, saving a couple of hundered of pounds into the bargain. Getting the motorcaravan booked in for her MOT at a testing centre capable of accommodating her. Monday next at two.
Then the day came alive as Jez, Nic and Zak arrived. The little man almost slept through it all. At one day old this is the most important thing to do apart from waking up and feeding when feeling hungry. Seeing those perfect baby fingers and toes always fills me with wonder. So small and yet so lovely. Sadly my cold meant that I could not smell “that new baby smell” that Niki spoke about.
Cameras were adjusted to ensure their flashes did not fire – at my insistence – and photos were taken of baby and grand-parents and baby and great grand-parents. Nic and Jez explained the birth for probably the umpteenth time. Isaac had decided to get things underway early on Saturday morning. Through the day things developed until about nine at night Jez and Nic drove up to Penrice Hospital. A few checks confirmed that Nic was steadily dilating but that Isaac although dropping was only three fifths engaged. The risk of trapping the umbilical cord was highlighted and a decision taken to transport Nic to Treliske for the birth. Once there Isaac appeared after about three hours of conventional labour.
By five thirty am mum, dad and baby were travelling back to Penrice in dad’s car. Once there, checks were done, things were pronounced in order and everyone congratulated Nic and Jez. Nic expressed a clear wish to go home and the maternity unit staff agreed. By just after six Isaac arrived home.
There after a procession of family members and friends filled day one. Isaac may have been overdue but now that he has arrived, everyone loves him.
Well, it is Monday now and guess what? Everyone still loves him. Much cooing and kissing and cuddling. Jez and Nic sit smiling. It is agreed that tomorrow perhaps they will return around lunchtime. They’re off and things settle back or rather I do into that reclining chair.
A little later with Andy Murray through his encounter and Djokovitch on court for his, Niki and I set off for a walk. A chance to clear the head and also to inspect a couple of car lots for a replacement vehicle for Sarah perhaps? The walk is beneficial but there is little to see on the car lots.
The walk is a trip down a memory lane. The one where I am sat in that portacabin in the car park at Polkyth, learning how to “do fire safety” or fire prevention as it was then known. Oh how time have changed, or not. The good news is that all of those buildings that I marked up with fire exit doors, emergency lighting, fire extinguishers, signs and the like are, in one form or another, still there. Then we walk past Doulton Road and memories of Keith Herrington come back to me. Another untimely ending. We walk on in the sunshine. I ponder where Guy H is now. I’m guessing that he is still with the Service? And what of Richard and his mum?
Before long we have wandered back into the present and are removing our shoes in the front porch before entering the house. Tonight we reprise the roast beef of yesterday and very tasty it is. The strawberries tonight are a tad over whelmed by sugar but it feels wrong to think about saying anything.
Was there much on the telly? Well Wimbledon gets a review at the end of each day but beyond that I don’t recall. Perhaps it is the glasses of whisky or my ongoing malady. Anyway bedtime comes around and we are off out into the van. Niki settles off quickly. I spend sometime scouring the interweb before settling off.