Return to Blogeroo!!

WHAT a pleasure to be back on my blog, unvisited since November 6. There has been a chapter of electronic accidents, the first of which was my inability to access my computer. Now, after having been sent back to England for a respite, the computer seems well-behaved and obedient!! I now have a computer with a new hard drive, thanks to the Wye genius of Bernard; a new, ultra modern Ipad which seems somehow in charge of me instead of the reverse! A mouse which I am rapidly learning to click, nonchalantly, instead of the dear, familiar pad/pulse familiar for over twenty years! Beloved grandson Dan has restored me to Tunnel Bear, awol for about a month, which enables me to illegally access BBC I player and its goodies. If only the BBC would organise itself and charge illicit users overseas for using the Iplayer, all would be harmony. I would gladly pay for my nightly hour fix of Good Drama and documentaries.

The Park, Minderbroederstraat, Brugge

We just had a super weekend here with two thirds of my son’s family here to celebrate his 55^th birthday. We had a superb meal out on Saturday at the The Park, Minderbroederstraat, adjacent to Astridpark. Gorgeous décor and great service too. Then on Sunday, a delicious lunch courtesy of Crista at Trium, delivered to my table, and for once, a little in-house entertainment of guitar, keyboard and song by Alexander Makay and Simon de Kuyper. Great way to spend the weekend and celebrate my son’s birthday.

I am not sure what I have done during my blog-silence; Mah Jong, coffee mornings, friend from Wye to stay for several happy days; three visits to the Pieter Pourbus exhibition; breakfast at Blackbird in Jan Van Eyckplein made even more decadent with the addition of a glass of Bellini for Rosemary and me. The excuse was that it reminded us of Venice, her favourite city.

St Michael and St James,

Linby-cum-Papplewick

During this time, however, an unexpected event indeed. My sister, whom I have featured before on this blog, died unexpectedly. Such a shock for her children and grandchildren, and indeed, for her two sisters and the extended family also and her many friends. SO, although this post was begun, it has been halted by my journey to England this last week. I returned on Friday evening [Dec 8] after Esme’s funeral on Thursday. My few days in Nottinghamshire were marked by much family emotion and disbelief but the service itself was wonderful. The little Linby church, charming and intimate, was full to standing and so many people had travelled far to be there. One young man, a long-time friend of my youngest nephew, had changed his travel plans around and flown in from Denver on Thursday morning to catch the funeral service, and was then to resume his journey to his original destination of Australia on Friday morning. My sister had mothered him when he was a fellow-student and friend of her son, many years ago and he had remained a devotee though he hadn’t seen her in years, living, as he does, in Colorado. I gave the funeral address, but my other sister and half of her family missed the service after a journey from Suffolk took twice the expected time. Hence, she couldn’t read the poem she intended. But the wake, afterwards, in the village pub was crowded with family and my sister’s admirers, and life-affirming, a celebration in fact of my sister’s life. So that gave a warm and loving feeling to the whole day that lingers still.

My tribute to Esme came as a result of much remembering of our childhood and in some ways, it was a pleasure to recall and compose, in spite of our unexpected loss. I finished by sending a message to her which went:

I hope your onward journey was good. I am pretty sure that right now, you are wandering the Elysian Fields with Derrick and the dogs. You left the party too soon and we didn't see you slip away, but Heather and I are right behind you and we'll see you down the road, quite soon ...'

Eighteen months ago, enjoying her 80th.