For the past week or so, I have been planning to do a post - my camera was silting up with memories of the last month and I wanted to upload them all. As it turns out, my procrastination was a big mistake.
Yesterday, R and I decided to take a day trip to Woking. R is a big fan of H.G.Wells and had discovered that Woking has a heritage trail, taking in the house where Wells used to live, a few statues, and the sandpit where the Martian pods first landed in the book. I packed a picnic in the rucksack, sorted out my walking bumbag with glasses, camera, phone etc.,and put them and our walking boots and driving basket in the hall, ready to go.
R was busy getting Bridget ready, so I sat down and read my book whilst waiting. I suddenly realised that R was outside packing the stuff from the hall in the boot - he had moved Bridget out of the drive and was packing on the road. I shut the door, hopped in the car and off we set.
It was only when we arrived in Woking and were ready to hit the trail that I realised that my bumbag wasn't in the boot. I thought that it was my fault - I remembered packing it, but assumed that I had got distracted and left it on the coffee table. We had a lovely day out - although various spots mentioned in the book failed to live up to R's mental image of them - and returned home ready for dinner.
On entering the house, the first thing I did was look for my bumbag. It was conspicuous by its absence! R claimed that I had put it somewhere silly, but both of us checked and still no sign. I tried ringing my phone but the house stayed silent. It then occurred to me that in packing the boot, R might have dumped everything on the road whilst he unlocked it - you need 2 hands to lift it and put the support strut in position - and forgot about the bumbag. He denied anything of the sort and claimed that it must be somewhere in the house. Knowing his inability to ever admit he is in the wrong (it's really annoying!), I carried on ringing my phone. Eventually, a woman answered. Apparently. her son had found the phone on their doorstep (about a mile away) that morning. The back was smashed but it still worked. R drove to collect it. I was too upset.
It's not the bumbag itself that I was upset by, nor my varifocals (I was wearing my prescription sunglasses at the time, hence why they were in the bag), it was my old camera which had some special photos that I kept on there and liked to look through occasionally and, more importantly, the knitted phone cosy that E made for me one Christmas. It had 'Mummy' embroidered down the front and a little bee on the back. It was the loss of the latter that had me in tears.
I'm furious with the person who found the bag on the road outside our house and, rather than knocking on various doors, decided to keep it and discard things as if they were worthless. They may not have had any monetary value, but they were definitely not worthless to me.
I can recall walking back from town and passing a car with a bunch of keys in the door lock. I removed them and knocked on various doors until I found the owner of the car and could return them. It wouldn't have occurred to me to do anything else. I certainly wouldn't have got into the car and driven away. So, a plague on the pathetic excuse of a human being who thought 'finders keepers'; I hope their conscience never gives them a moment's peace.
R, finally contrite, reported the theft to the police (fat lot of good that will do!) and I posted a message on our local neighbourhood website, just in case anything else had been thrown away randomly. I don't hold out any hope though. He ordered me a new back for the phone and this morning saw me heading to the opticians to buy new glasses. Strangely, I had my eyes tested a couple of weeks ago. My prescription had changed slightly but not enough to need new ones unless I wanted them. I decided to keep them for another couple of years; now I've had to fork out anyway. All that's left to do is to think about a camera - I know that most people just use their phone these days, but mine is a hand-me-down from E and my camera (ancient though it was) took better pictures.
So, here I am wishing that I had got my act together and uploaded those photos. This blog acts as my diary, so forgive me if I look back with the aid of the kitchen calendar and try to recall the events of the last couple of months.
Here goes: We had a couple of outdoor Shakespeare performances. The first was 'Twelfth Night' at Shaw House and, needless to say, we got rather wet. The second was over a weekend that L came home for a visit. We went to The Vyne to see The Lord Chamberlain's Men perform 'Romeo and Juliet'. They are an all male group and I was slightly wary. I had a mental image of either a Les Dawson portrayal of a girl, or a silly, simpering, giggling version. When they came on stage to sing at the beginning, I had my fingers crossed that Juliet wouldn't turn out to be the one with the beard. As it happens, they were brilliant and the chap playing Juliet was totally convincing. There was something in the way that he held his head and arms; it was very subtle but completely believable. We also got drenched again!
We attended the 'Altered States' open air sculpture exhibition. It was a mixed bag - some were excellent and some looked a bit like a child had done some junk modelling.
I met my friend, S, at Stourhead in Wiltshire. I had been before but it was well worth a second visit and we had a lovely day out and catch up.
The Corn Exchange was hosting 'The Museum of the Moon' - a large, illuminated model of the moon, suspended from the ceiling of the main auditorium, accompanied by classical music and transmissions from Apollo 11. It was fascinating and hypnotic and we overstayed our 20 minute booked timeslot, so entranced were we. A few days later, I returned alone to attend a 'Gong Bathing' session under the moon. Never having done it, I was intrigued but R didn't fancy it. E had been to a session in Bristol and recommended it, so I thought I'd give it a go. There were 2 sessions, 1 was just gongs, and 1 included drums, singing bowls, voice and other instruments. The former was fully booked, so I went for the mixed bag. I was slightly concerned that I would either get a fit of the giggles or fall asleep, in which case it would just be an expensive nap and I can do that for free at home! In the end, I didn't do either. The change in instruments kept me interested and awake and I had no urge to laugh at all. The woman running it was lovely and had the most fantastic singing voice. It sounded inspired by Native North American music, which she apparently channelled spontaneously on the day. I was pleased to have taken a blanket along as R had looked it up beforehand and said that your body temperature can drop during the session - it did indeed. I also developed a bit of a headache - probably a coincidence and not owing to a release of toxins caused by body cells vibrating as claimed on some websites. I probably wouldn't do it again, but I'm glad to have tried it once.
Art in the Park made a return visit. I bought a few cards for various birthdays and R bought a watercolour of a Cornish beach near St. Ives where we stayed last year.
We had a day trip to Salisbury and enjoyed looking round the Cathedral and, lastly, attended another play at the New Era Theatre. This one was called True West - a modern retelling of the Cain and Abel story. It was well acted but I was slightly traumatised by the plant abuse. Well looked after in the first act, as the main character loses interest in everything, he tends them less and less, so that by the start of Act 2, they were all completely dead. A cheese plant, 3 asparagus ferns and a Calathea bit the dust in a rather dramatic fashion.
Well, that's it for this month. If you made it to the end of this rather wordy, photo free post, have a gold star, you deserve it. I hope things are good at your end.
Toodle pip for now. x
