Moving on, or not ...

In so many ways, I feel that I have moved on with my life, but sometimes I get caught by surprise.

There have been a couple of occasions recently, when I have been particularly proud of something one of my daughters has done: Josie running, unprompted, to the aid of a road accident victim; Emmeline getting excellent GCSE results. I cannot help but think to myself: "Linda would have been proud." This always stirs emotions in me. I am glad that I have the capacity for such feelings.

But life has so many positives. The emails about Linda's butterfly site keep coming in, which are a pleasure. I won a photo competition recently - a very nice surprise. The biggest source of pleasure in my life lately is tall and blond and her name's Libby. We have only been together a few weeks, but it feels good to have someone special in one's life.

One year on

It is now one year exactly since Linda's death. I am not big on anniversaries, as they are not, in themselves, meaningful. I often think back to this day last year and remember the incredible sensitivity of the young doctor; this never fails to make me feel very emotional. It is curious: I find that reading my own writings of a year or so back make me feel much more upset than I really did at the time. Maybe this is how I process emotions.

I was lucky enough to spend some time with a new friend yesterday evening, who patiently allowed me to ramble on about Linda, her illness and death and what followed. It really helped.

I suppose that I did not expect many people, beyond our immediate family, to remember the date. But I did have an email from a friend, whom I have never met - only been in touch on the Internet, who had lost her own mother and aunt in the last few days; I was very touched by her thoughtfulness when she had some much else on her mind.

I suppose it is unsurprising that there is not a single day when Linda is not in my thoughts. I find it hard to imagine that this will ever not be the case. I notice that she lives on in lots of subtle ways. There are the ways that we do various things around the house, which we continue to do in the manner that she instigated. If I change something, I often find that I am asking myself whether she would approve. I am sure that she would be happy with some of the changes/improvements that I have made to the house. Other things are very much for myself and almost feel like a betrayal - not a logical perspective for me to take really. But I do not think logic comes into it.

On a more positive note, I get emails on about a weekly basis from people who have enjoyed her butterfly Web site or simply found it useful. Usually they are just expressing their sadness at her death and thanking me for keeping the site alive. I am so pleased that they take the trouble to write and always reply. One lady is writing a book about butterflies for children, which will be published soon, and she acknowledges Linda as an information source. She has promised to send me a copy. I hope that Linda would have been pleased.


Today we scattered the last of Linda's ashes under a buddleia [butterfly] bush that Linda had planted in our front garden. The thought is that this will nourish the plant that feeds the butterflies. I believe this is in line with her wishes. I also set the small stone, that I got carved last year, as a marker. Hopefully, this is some kind of closure.

Matthew Fletcher

I thought that I was handling things well. But surprises happen. I was listening to the radio and heard the story of Matthew Fletcher. He was suffering from AML [like Linda did] and ended up in Bristol having a BMT. Sadly, it did not work out and the disease returned and he died last November.

He kept an audio diary and his whole story is here.

I found this deeply upsetting, but inspiring nevertheless.

Linda's camera

The disposal of Linda's things has been a long process. Some things are easy - from both a practical and emotional standpoint - others are more difficult. One such thing was her camera. The Nikon CoolPix 4500, that she used for the last few years mainly for her butterfly photography, had served her well. It was looking well worn, but still worked, so she was vaguely thinking of replacing it.

I was keen to find it a good home, as it would have upset me to just throw it away. Then, the other day I saw a piece in the local newspaper saying that a local playgroup were after a camera if anyone had just upgraded and wanted to dispose of their old one. Then a friend handed me a copy of the same article, thinking that I might be interested. So, I contacted the playgroup and yesterday evening handed over the camera. I think that it has gone to a good home and hope Linda would have approved.

More memories

After my previous posting, reproducing some of Linda's writing shortly before she died, I have received some interesting feedback. Some readers were interested to have their memories jogged about times past. Linda's sister, Anne, gave me some of her recollections, which complement Linda's, and has allowed me to reproduce them here:

I remember cutting up the salt blocks for the beans: Mother really was very cunning - she would set Barry and I to make a sculpture out of a block; then after it was a race to see who could reduce their block to complete crumbs!!

I remember also the house being struck by lightening at Walton Grounds -– Linda and I were in the front room, the lightening hit the radio aerial and ran down the wall into the radio and then leapt across to the fireguard, which was a tall fixed one with a brass rail around, and from there it leapt to the electric sockets; blue flashes all around us and all I could do was stand in the middle of the room holding Linda tightly. No-one hurt but no radio left!

I think Linda remembers lamb more than other meats because, if we had chicken, beef or pork, mother would roll up a breast of lamb with stuffing inside, cook it on the Sunday with the other roast and we would eat it cold on Monday – it was actually very tasty. Linda forgot that we used to have rabbit stew as well.

Winemaking started when we first moved to Walton Grounds and the half-acre garden was covered with dandelions so Mum and Dad took up winemaking with Barry and I set to pick the flowers.

We always had apples wherever we lived in the country and they were stored for the winter in trays under my bed. I still love the smell of apples. Pears were more rare; oranges were a Christmas treat [Mum has a story about that which you should get her to tell you] and bananas were unknown to me until I was almost in my teens. Spangles were some of the first sweets off ration and the year I was 16 I spent the summer picking runner beans on the farm and had a packet of spangles every day while I was doing it. Also bought my first pair of jeans with what I was allowed to save out of wages. Yes, we were very poor but we always had good food and we all ate from the same menu; the meat was not saved just for my father, as was common in most country households.

I could go on but just one more memory that Linda would not have known: during rationing we could have bread with butter on, but nothing else. If we wanted [homemade] jam or marmalade, we had to put margarine on the bread!

Thought provoking greeting

We have, of course, received many nice greetings on Christmas cards this year. But one in particular stood out and made me think; it said "Life must be very different without Linda and her illness being the focus of your lives".

The first bit is obvious enough. Not a day goes by when I don't bring her to mind - maybe wonder what she would think about something or perhaps find myself discarding an item that she might have thought of as important.

The second part is what struck me. Since last June, I have felt a sort of emptiness and a sense that I lacked direction. I had assumed that it was simply her loss and, whilst that is certainly part of it, I realise that it is also the fact that, for two years, everything we did or planned was predicated by her health situation. In a way, I feel that I have lost a frame of reference. I need to get used to doing things and planning on the basis of my own needs and of those immediately around me. I suppose a New Year is a good time to start ...

Linda's words

When Linda was in Delancey Hospital, she had no Internet access and was nervous about having her laptop there, because it would end up unattended in her room from time to time. Security seems to be an issue in hospitals. She wanted to do some writing, so I bought her a device that looks like a PC keyboard with a small LCD screen. It is a low cost word processor, which can easily be connected to a PC to collect the text. She used this to write blog entries [which I would take home and post] and started writing down some ideas for what she thought might become a book. Essentially, she though that she could write an autobiographical book tracking the way food had evolved over her life. While clearing up some stuff, I was cleaning up this device to pass it on to someone else and found the text she had written. I thought that it might be interesting to publish it here:

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FOOD, glorious food

Walton Grounds

The salt block, rather like a brick, provided me with hours of fun when I was small. I was given my mother’s apple corer and would make tunnels through the salt. I liked to try and connect my tunnels. The salt was used to preserve my mother’s runner beans over the winter months. The salt and beans were put in layers in an earthenware jar. Working-class people would not own freezers for another decade. My mother would also pickle onions and I’ve been told that I used to ask for “peels” for my supper when I was very small. We lived in the countryside at Walton Grounds, outside a village called Kings Sutton. We went collecting blackberries from the hedgerows. These were preserved in Kilner jars for use during the winter too.

My sister, Anne had won a scholarship to boarding school in Brackley. She did well in her exams at 16. This must have been the catalyst for our move to my mother’s home town of Coventry because there would have been no work for Anne in the country. Barry had also won a scholarship as a day pupil. Boys and girls were kept well apart in those days.

The cottages at Walton Grounds were hit by lightening. My father was walking home from Kings Sutton at the time. I’ve a vague memory that he had a present for me in his suitcase – tiny plastic scales. I used to play with Stephen next door and cut my hand on a jam jar outside, resulting in a tetanus injection. This is the only time that all five of us went on holiday. We stayed in a caravan at Hayling Island.

95 Kingsland Avenue

It must have been 1958 when we went to Coventry. Both Anne and I remember the move and what I did when I arrived at our new home. I took my little chair and our country cat and sat in the pantry out of the way – my mother went frantic when she couldn’t find me! I think houses should have pantries. They faced north and had mesh for a window. They were where food was kept cool like the preserves.

We were working-class folks and money was tight. My father bought an allotment a few streets away and where he grew our vegetables. Meat and two vegetables were our stable food at lunchtime with a pudding that cooked in the oven, if the oven had been in use.

On Sundays, we would have a roast. Chicken was rare in those early days. My father liked roast beef with horseradish sauce and Yorkshire pudding. I think though that we had lamb more often as I remember it cold on Monday. Monday was wash day and very hard work for my mother. We would have cold shoulder of lamb with one of my favourites. This was layers of potato and onions. I remember rabbit stew, stuffed hearts, stew with dumplings, Lancashire hot pot and mince but am unsure of the timescale.

Potatoes came from the allotment along with another vegetable. I think that I remember broad beans, cabbage, cauliflower, Brussels sprouts, turnip, parsnip, carrots, onions, marrow. In the summer, I would go to the allotment too and used to hide under the runner beans where the radishes grew. There would be beetroot, cress, lettuce, peas, rhubarb and strawberries. The path of the allotment leading to my father’s shed, had rose bushes either side and he had a few flowers by the shed. I hated the smell of golden rod. In our back garden, my parents had two greenhouses and in the summer the smell of tomatoes wafted out. The green houses and shed filled the back garden, so my swing was positioned over the concrete path; I never did high swings!

If the oven had been used, then pudding would be cooked in the oven too; resources were not wasted like today. This was often rice pudding, which my father liked. Macaroni pudding, tapioca, semolina, apple pie, blackberry and apple pie, baked apple, bread and butter pudding, stewed rhubarb, plums and sometimes jelly.

Teatime would involve bread with tinned luncheon meat, beef dripping, cheese and pickles, tinned corned beef, pots of paste, Heinz sandwich spread. My parents liked something disgusting which I think were cod’s roes. A pork pie was a special treat. My mother searched out traditional pork pies, where the meat was pale. I hate the sight of pink meat to this day.

When I was about 9, I would have suppers. I had bowls of Bovril with squares of bread floating in. Also, I was allowed to pick the bones of a chicken to get the last of the flesh from it!

I liked fried bread, which accompanied a cooked breakfast and I also liked poached eggs. Dipping “soldiers” in a soft-boiled egg was fun too. Cereals such as cornflakes, rice krispies and frosties have been around for a long time. We probably had porridge too.

Cereals make me think of crisps too. These were plain with a little blue bag of salt – I was probably about 9 when I had the occasional packet of crisps. Later, there would be cheese and onion crisps.

I was young enough to always know bananas. My mother was keen that I eat fruit. She liked conference pears, which were hard as far as I was concerned. I’ve recently tasted them ripe and they are very juicy.

Fig rolls, garibaldi, ginger nuts, digestives and rich tea biscuits belong to my childhood. I used to drink Ribena and when ill, I was given Lucozade. It only came in traditional orange in those days.

There were treats too. Some Saturday mornings, we would have cream cakes. I liked cream horns and my mother was fond of vanilla slices. When we visited the memorial park, I had ice-cream or sometimes when the ice-cream van came round. I liked Mr Whippy soft ice-creams but also had ice-cream splits and lollies. There were choc-ices too but I wasn’t so keen on those. There was also the occasional visit to the Fish and Chip shop for fish, chips and mushy peas.

Visits to the sweet shop might result in the purchase of Cadbury’s dairy milk, Cadbury’s Flakes, Crunchies, Aero, sherbet fountains, sherbet lemons, liquorice allsorts, Fry’s Turkish Delight, Smarties, Opal Fruits and Robinson’s Fruit Pastilles. I feel quite nostalgic! My mother liked sugared almonds and Fry’s crème bar. My father liked toffees and humbugs. Bull’s eyes, bubble gum and chewing gum were out! When on holiday, I had a stick of rock. In those days, it was white inside with pink around the circumference.

On Pancake Day, we would have pancakes with lemon and sugar. At Easter, I would get an Easter egg, where the chocolates were inside the egg if my memory serves me correctly.

Bonfire night was the time for Jacket potatoes, which I loved, and toffee apples which I wasn’t so fond of.

Christmas was the great event of the year. Celebrations started on the 20^th December, which was my parents’ Wedding Anniversary. Turkey on Christmas Day came with my favourite chestnut stuffing. I remember sage and onion stuffing too. My mother made various sauces to accompany our main courses, like bread sauce, horseradish to go with beef and mint sauce or mint jelly to accompany lamb. About age 9, when cabbage and mash were served, my mother would make parsley sauce for me, which I mixed up with those ingredients. At Christmas time, they might have a duck. At that time of year, we would have satsumas and crack nuts. I liked brazils. We would toast marshmallows in front of the fire in our front room. Shortbread seems to belong to that time of year, along with pork pie for tea. My mother made a Christmas pudding, which included a traditional coin. She also baked a Christmas cake with marzipan and royal icing. Advent calendars consisted of paper windows – no sweets involved. On Christmas Day, I’d get a net stocking of sweets.

My great-aunt, who lived in the next street, used to stay in a hotel in Bournemouth for the winter. My mother and I went down for a week at least once when I was aged about 9. I have two memories from then. Firstly, one of the desserts in the hotel; it was Peach Melba served in a rounded stainless-steel dish. The second memory was visiting a department store for drinks, where I had a divine concoction called a raspberry ice-cream soda.

Trinity Cottage, Allesley.

I remember picking gooseberries.

Wellington, Somerset.

My mother would meet me from the school bus in winter and buy me some chips if I was hungry.

18 Mary Arches Street, Exeter

We moved here when I was 12.

Main meals now included Belly Pork, served with apple sauce. Boiled Bacon has always been a firm favourite of mine. The introduction of fridges with some freezer space, introduced Cod in Parsley sauce and Brain’s Faggots – if room was available after the frozen runner beans were ate! My mother also produced some disgusting meal, namely her version of lamb’s liver and her curry. I never liked stuffed marrow either. Puddings would now include bakewell tart and treacle tart.

Cauliflower Cheese features somewhere, but I can’t remember what era. Malt loaf and Lardy cake may have a long history too, together with crumpets. My father liked my mother’s Dundee cake and she made coconut pyramids, but again I can’t remember what period. We now had shop-bought cakes; Swiss roll, brandy snaps, and battenburg cake. I was fond of tomato sandwiches, where a pinch of salt was sprinkled on the tomatoes. I remember eating some Devon cream one teatime and not leaving some for my father; I got a good telling-off from my mother. The cat also took a fancy to a Cherry cake on our tea trolley once.

The kitchen held jars of fermenting home-made wine.

An occasional treat was turkey and ham pie from a delicatessen. When I was about 17, the Vesta packet meal arrived and I used to cook them for supper. The other memory from that period was the arrival of Galaxy flake bars covered in an outer coating of chocolate; so much easier for a clumsy person like me who always seemed to make a mess. I would buy them on my way home from college.

Wrington.

This was the time that the courgette was invented! I like courgettes. I loathe marrow. Strange to think that they are related.

Bath University

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Sadly, at that point the text finishes. I am sure that I could guess some of the food-oriented memories she might have had from that time, but I will not intrude here.

Calendar postscript

An interesting occurrence ...

I sent a few of the LINC calendars to various friends, including a lady in Shaftesbury with whom Linda was very friendly when we lived there. She sent me a card and thanked me for the calendar, noting that the picture is the same one that Linda had used to make her a birthday card last year. I am pleased that we seem to have selected an image that Linda clearly thought was one of her good ones [see here for the pic].

I would like to take this opportunity to offer my best wishes for the season to everyone that has followed this blog. I am always delighted to receive comments and the knowledge that so many people have been taking an interest warms my heart. May we all have a prosperous and peaceful 2007.

Calendar update etc.

About 10 days ago, one of the local newspapers ran a story which was intended to promote the LINC calendar. They based it upon Linda's story. A PDF of the text may be found here.

I had an odd day last Wednesday:

Firstly I went in to LINC to help with some work there. It seems that the newspaper article did push calendar sales. They had lots of people phoning to order "Linda's calendar". I found this very moving. She would not have wanted to take credit for the whole thing. But I guess the important thing is the personal angle of the article did help raise funds.

When I got home, I found that I had received a card. Not a Christmas card, but a general greetings card from a lady [Chaplaincy volunteer] in the Bristol hospital, whom Linda had got to know. She just wanted us to know that she had been thinking of is. Such kind gestures are what make the world a wonderful place, IMHO.

While I was reading the card, I received an email from a lady in my office [in Newbury - very rarely go there]. She was just saying that she hadn't seen me around for a while, but I hadn't been forgotten and many people were thinking of me. Again, a very kind gesture.

Calendars

It has been a little while since I posted here, but life goes on ...

I have written before about a Cheltenham-based, leukaemia-related charity with which I am involved: LINC. A recent project was to create a 2007 calendar to be sold to raise funds. It is very common for charities to lose money on calendars, but someone had a very bright idea: get 12 companies to sponsor a month each. They end up paying for the printing and get a small advert in return. They also got to select the art for their particular month from a catalogue of images made available [free of charge] by a number artists with whom LINC had connections. The result is that every penny of every sale [they are £5 each] is 100% profit for LINC.

One of Linda's pictures appears in July and one of mine in March, so I am particularly proud of them. Sadly, although Linda knew the project was happening, she never had the opportunity to select her picture. So Josie and I chose one - a butterfly obviously.