It’s been hectic

G’day all, The following posts may help to explain why I haven’t been visiting your pages or replying to likes or comments

In April we had decided to go to the New South Wales, Wagga Wagga Grey Nomads Easter … Stone the Crows festival … this was our third time attending the fun filled five day Easter break.

Once the festival was over we called into my Aunt Tup’s farm, where I stayed on for a further two weeks, while hubby returned home with the caravan, so he could take over from our friend and our daughter, the chore of tending to our two dogs, the cat, our two pet sheep along with countless feathered friends that share our little corner of the world.

Hubby then made the five hour trip back to the farm to collect me when my two weeks were up. I had only been home a week when I received a call from my friend Patricia, telling me her brother Joe was gravely ill, and she was going to go visit him in the UK as soon as she could get a plane ticket.

I had actually accompanied Pat on a trip to visit Joe and his wife Norma, twelve years ago; staying with them for an exciting month. Realising this wasn’t going to be a happy fun visit I asked who was going to accompany her, and was shocked to hear she was going alone.

Not believing what I was hearing I said to hubby that no one should have to make a trip like this alone, he was the last remaining member of her immediate family. The upshot being I offered to accompany her again if she would like me too, and within twenty four hours of that phone call we are both on a plane to the Uk.

The following is a daily diary of our trip

Day 1.

Well here I am in good old England, Sunday 3rd May. Their time and date … A Sunny day

 Leigh, (by the way, he told me he doesn’t like being called Leigh James, prefers just Leigh), drove Patricia, Bill and myself to the airport,  while we were all sitting having  farewell coffee,  a sudden thought flash, prompted  the question …Guess what I forgot to pack ?…  The astonishment on their faces when told … slacks or jeans … was almost worth the ruddy inconvenience, not to mention extra expense, or, for that matter the personal rubbishing this omission was going to cause.

The first leg of the flight, from Melbourne to Abu Dhabi (an airport a couple of hours drive from Dubai) took about 14 long hours, Pat slept, I dozed here and there, this being a tad unusual for me, but under the circumstances of the past couple of days, not surprising. The two hour wait to catch the adjoining flight on to Manchester was taken up getting through customs, on arrival, and again ready for departure. This final leg of our journey took about 7 hours, again sleep eluded me, not, so Pat.

The arrival itself was uneventful, Susan and John were there to meet us as planned, and they drove us straight here to Norma and Joe’s home, a charming brown brick semi detached house, snowy white lace curtains in the front window that overlooks a bed of brilliant bluebells bathing in the afternoon sunshine. I having holidayed here once before with Pat twelve years ago, then Pat again with her hubby only two years ago, were greeted with a delightful warm welcoming hug, a much needed coffee break, and a chat to bring Pat up to date on Joe’s condition, after which it was off to the hospital.

Understandably It was a mixed emotional time for Patricia, the joy of not only knowing she had arrived  in time to say good bye to her only brother, but to have him alert enough to recognise and greet her, a sad albeit bitter sweet moment. I also was recognised but of cause there was no verbal exchange, he needs his remaining energy to   just keep going. We visited with him for only an hour or so and again returned to Norma’s, and what was to be our home for the next couple of months.

It was a unanimous vote that resulted in us all enjoying a light dinner of toasted cheese sandwiches, Pat’s favourite English cake and a cuppa of our choice, finalising in more family chat before sleepily heading off to our respective beds, it had been a very long, tiring, emotionally charged twenty four  hours.

            I’d been allotted the upstairs bed room, accessed by climbing a rather narrow staircase consisting of fifteen steps, not exactly climbing Mt Everest, but would definitely turn out to prove a muscle toner by the end of our visit. It had, I was led to believe been Norma and Joe’s room prior to his health starting to fail, transferring to the ground floor being easier for both of them.

The room itself wasn’t large as far as some bedrooms go, although had a very feminine cosiness that was welcoming, cream textured paper covered both walls and the rather low slightly domed ceiling.  Apricot sateen like drapes incorporating a delicate rose motif, frame a lace covered window, that when pulled apart allows the morning sun to take full advantage of the large dressing table mirror on the opposite side of the room, to not only reflect the daylight streaming in, but to softly identify and complement the double bed’s dainty floral counterpane, a mid brown leaf pattern overlaying a bone coloured carpet unobtrusively melding this little room into a suggestion of peace and tranquillity.

To be  coninued

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Did you know or even want to?

G’day all,

Often when a friend seemingly disappears off the net with no explanation or forewarning, I find myself checking their page every now and again, being a well known sticky-beak I eventually become besieged by doubt and/or concern as time passes, are they ill, do they have writers block or maybe they have lost interest? Seldom does it enter my befuddled brain that anyone of you may have a life in the real world that takes precedents every now and again.

So with that thought in mind, seeing I myself dropped off the web without a by-your-leave for a month or so, to return to the bush to have a holiday with my elderly Aunt, albeit nursing an egotistical hope that someone out there may have noticed my absence,and understand why I have not replied to messages etc (no internet in the bush) I have decided to open a Did you know or even want to page.

In the past I have only posted, literary content, this being somewhat because I am still very much a newbie on W/P and still trying to work out all the technical ins-and-outs, much to my distress at times, anyway, I have decided to take the bull by the horns and use this page as more a personal section, that may or may-not have anything to do with the serious side of writing Per se.

This is not to say I will be undulating you with enthralling titbits about when our dog does something cute, or our chooks lay a double yoker, no, but to jot different thoughts that I feel the urge to note down,
such as today being a special day here in Aus, and as every True Blue out there, I just want to say to those that fought and died, so we could live in freedom, peace and harmony

Thank you

They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old;
Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn.
At the going down of the sun and in the morning.
We will remember them.
Lest We Forget.

Anzac Day – 25 April – is one of Australia’s most important national occasions. It marks the anniversary of the first major military action fought by Australian and New Zealand forces during the First World War. The Australian and New Zealand (ANZAC) forces landed on Gallipoli on 25 April 1915, meeting fierce resistance from the Ottoman Turkish defenders.

What had been planned as a bold stroke to knock Turkey out of the war quickly became a stalemate, and the campaign dragged on for eight months. At the end of 1915, the allied forces were evacuated from the peninsula, with both sides having suffered heavy casualties and endured great hardships.
More than 8,000 Australian soldiers had been killed. The Gallipoli campaign had a profound impact on Australians at home, and 25 April soon became the day on which Australians remembered the sacrifice of those who died in the war.

Although the Gallipoli campaign failed in its military objectives, the Australian and New Zealand actions during the campaign left us all a powerful legacy. The creation of what became known as the “Anzac legend” became an important part of the identity of both nations, shaping the way we view both our past and our future.
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