Jaqui's Daily Blog

Tuesday 25th September

I travelled back home this morning, waving a tearful goodbye (well, I was tearful anyway) to the Youngest of the Darling Daughters who had braved the early morning traffic, bless her, to drive me to the station. 

 

I had to change trains at Hilsea which, in terms of facilities offered, might just be marginally worse than Cosham (see my Sunday blog.)  However, as I only had five minutes to wait on the station platform I didn't have (i) the time to test out the facilities or (ii) the need to summon up any grim fortitude to sustain me.  I did check out (from the comfort of the train) all the other stations along the line to Littlehampton and decided the only one where I want to change trains in future is Havant where there is a cheery-looking Pumpkin Cafe on the platform.  It's such a lovely plump name, isn't it, Pumpkin Cafe? 

 

The smiley face of Mr B was the first thing I saw when I arrived at Littlehampton.  He was really pleased to have me home - if only because now he has someone to blame when Things Go Wrong.  Yesterday, apparently, he put his dinner in the oven then fell asleep in front of the TV, awaking to find his lamb shank seriously overcooked.  In my absence, he has had to concede it was All His Own Fault. This doesn't happen very often.

 

Next, in recognition of the fact that I have seriously relaxed / completely neglected my retirement exercise regime over the last week and a half, I headed to the health club for a swim while Mr B was out bowling.  There I completed my sixteen, slow but stately lengths of the pool.  Stately is a good word because when swimming I always hold my head high above the water - think Maggie Smith from Downton Abbey in a swimming pool and you will get the picture.  

 

I did have one minor adventure while I was there.  A new spin dryer has been installed, for wringing out wet swimsuits.  I couldn't read the instructions, being as usual without my specs, so I just had to trust my instincts, guess at how long to hold down the lid of the dryer and submit my poor cossie to its administrations. It survived intact, though no thanks to me. 

 

Lovely though it is to be home, I am rather missing being with the Youngest of the Darling Daughters and my grandkids, Jack and Hazel.  Especially as Hazel was making Chelsea Buns in Cookery this morning (I know this because I helped weigh out the ingredients last night, though why anyone would trust me with a set of kitchen scales and a bag of strong white flour I really don't know.) I do love Chelsea buns.  I feel absolutely sure they sell them in the Pumpkin Cafe on the platform at Havant railway station.

 

Incidentally, lots of Jack and Hazel's friends, for some reason, have started calling me Nanna Baldwin.  This is despite the fact that I am not their grandmother and my name isn't Baldwin, two facts which appear not to bother the youngsters two hoots.  So I shall wear my new name like a badge of honour. There is something warm and friendly and comforting about it.

 

Like Chelsea Buns and the Pumpkin Cafe... 

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Latest comments

Yesterday | 10:09

I'm needing to find information about the usher family tree for my aunty, her great grandparent where Thomas and Phoebe Usher would I've been researching

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Yesterday | 10:03

Hi Karen,
I'm helping my aunt with her family tree her maiden name was usher. do you have any other information or found anything about the usher family

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18.04 | 17:19

Oh that's such a good read Jaqui! It's great to see it through your eyes, and you capture it beautifully... and you will indeed look like real athletes too!

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21.02 | 22:41

Wonderful!😁

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