I have for the first time in my life set a fire in a wood burning stove. I was delighted, it sparked up at my second attempt, my primeval instinct for making fire has been satiated.
What next in my steep learning curve to become a ruddy faced countryman?
But as usual I digress; I am indeed a ruddy faced countryman as I have moved in with my girl friend in the country, well Hertfordshire which to me as a confirmed towny seems awfully rural.
I seem to have started this blog half way through and perhaps should go back to the beginning with the title ‘My father has died and I have promised my mother I will look after her’.
When I made that promise I was unaware it would be a twenty year journey, which ended last year when my mother finally died aged ninety. She always was a needy woman; as are many of her generation, always hiding behind the man and being utterly supported by him in all things.
When my father first died my mother had never spent a night in a house alone in all her life and it was therefore up to me to continue this habit. At first she came to stay with me but as time went by I gradually weened her off my house and after a full year had her back in her house complete with new puppy, (some one for her to look after).
She always needed a purpose in life and looking after others had been hers for her entire life; working in the family business, cooking and cleaning for my father and my brother and I; although I think as with an awful lot of women of her generation ‘cooking’ my be stretching the definition of my mothers culinary skills.
I still had to be there for her when it became dark as she was scared of being alone in the dark, so many a long hour was spent until she finally felt tired enough to go to bed and I could return to my house.
I need to go and stoke the fire now, ah the life of a ruddy faced countryman; I shall return later.
- Bentley MK VI
- Dulce Et Decorum Est Pro Patria Mori.
- Man flu
- My cat.
- That's Life
- The Countryside.
- The Elderflower
- The Internet
- The Olympics
- The orthodontist.
- Thirty pieces of silver
- Valentines Day