Going on holiday - (though not to Paris)

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Oh dear! My friends are beginning to worry again. I am perfectly well, but nearly distracted with excitement, and an endless round of preparations for a visit from my eldest son Matthew, who lives in Sydney with his wife and 9-year-old son Peter. They only get over here about every three years, and usually have only about 10 days, to divide between Matthew's family and his wife's. But this year they are going to be in this country for 20 days, and are hoping to spend a little time relaxing and enjoying the country, in addition to the hectic round of visits they always have to make.

What is really great for me this year, is that they are taking me with them on their travels, which means, if I can stand the excitement, that I shall have 20 days with them instead of the usual five. I am rather dubious about the long car journeys that will be involved, as I like travelling less and less as I get older; but as long as they are sympathetic to regular comfort stops, I have no doubt I shall survive.

So they will stay here with me for four nights. During that time the son who lives here in my village will host a large buffet luncheon party - (something which he and his wife do brilliantly), which will also be attended by a third son and his three children, and by my brother and sister-in-law.

After that, since there is a fourth son to be visited too, I shall travel up to Hebden Bridge with them to spend three nights visiting him in his new house - the first one he has actually owned himself, and which I haven't seen yet. (As a housewarming present, I bought him a pair of chimney pots for it, as the old ones needed replacing. They were like this one of mine, which has different pots of flowers in it according to the season. The summer version is much more exhuberant and untidy.)

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Thereafter we shall start the long trip up to Aberdeen, hopefully with some leisurely sight-seeing on the way, to visit my daughter-in-law's family. I think we shall be staying in bed and breakfast accommodation there, or I will at any rate, since I have not exactly been invited by my son's in-laws, but by him, and I don't think there will be room for me as well. We shall be there for Easter, and they are having a family gathering too.

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After I have been returned home, and they have left to catch their flight back to Australia, I have a few days to recoup, and possibly do some washing, before taking off again, this time for Barlaston near Stoke-on-Trent, where my Growing Old Disgracefully friends are gathering for their regular four-day springfest.

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Just telling about it exhausts me, (I really do lead a very quiet life these days), but I'm going, with a special small case for all my meds, and one or two supplements as well; a back cushion for the car, a herbal heat pack, and sundry other aids to survival for the elderly. The net result of all this, from my readers' point of view, is that I shall not be blogging during April.

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I leave you with a charming little picture by the artist Isobel Morton-Sale (1904-1992). It is 8-3/4 x 7-1/2 inches, in watercolour, pen, ink and charcoal, and is currently for sale at the Chris Beetles Gallery in St James's, London - for £850.00.

GOING ON HOLIDAY