The River Files

At work in contact with charming elderly lady in pretty, patterned sweater same age as my beloved mother would be if still with us.

Couldnt resist asking her age even though I knew it. Wanted her to say it. ” I’m 83. ” Such a warm smile and twinkly eyes. Had to help her down from a precarious place. A ledge of sorts. Put both my hands out to hers to steady her. She took them gratefully held on hard and we manoeuvred her down. And..oh! The joy of feeling her dry, papery skin on my hands. Seeing the blue veins standing out on the white skin of the backs of her hands. The smattering of liver spots. How long since I touched the skin of my beloveds. My grandmother and mother and how I miss them. Had to sit down afterwards while my eyes swam with tears and longing. How quickly it was over, even though they both lived to good age. I am left with nothing but regrets and wondering if I made the most of them, whether I loved them enough. Pangs of sadness and regret.

For first time in many years not at Boxing Day Meet in the High Street. Instead 157 Mile’s away from home and Old Father Thames watching Frozen 2 in Cineworld. I am in elegant place where there is no mud and the Christmas lights are subtle, the shopping is good and people are er.. slim .

A Christmas 3 days of long, lazy lie-ins, mininal food. No shopping or washing up and in a house with no Christmas tree. What bliss. Watched brave, young swimmers enter Lido yesterday morning in glorious sunshine walk on hill high above City and the Queens Speech lunch sandwiches from a service station with an M&S. God bless them for being open.

Can there be anything worse than an overweight, ageing, brassy slut type giving tongue? In our local pub. Noise so dreadful had to record it as an anthropological experiment. Full of Christmas revellers. Some even sang carols at the bar (poorly) then passed hat round for money. Shocking. The volume of the raucous laughter was ear splitting. Oh! the joys of a night out in the West Country . …ooo arrrrr!

Weather unremittingly foul all day. Why does it get to me these days? Just awful. These dark nights and sogginess. Even dog walk a misery and no chance of getting out on a horse. Only crack of light in entire day was starting Anne Glenconners Lady in waiting memoir on talking books. Read charmingly and au naturel by the Grande Dame herself, her descriptions of Holkham and North Norfolk sent me back in my mind to gorgeous summer days there in the dunes looking out over the expanse of sea to the wind turbines. Meanwhile a succession of Round Robins have come in with the Christmas Cards. So insufferably smug. Shut up! Shut the bloody hell up! I want to say. Maybe I’ll write one, one of these days what would I put I wonder?

Hmmm. “I began this year utterly miserable” it would commence, then ” I ended this year utterly, even more utterly miserable”

The truth is out.

Just passed this on Westway en route Putney to Paddington.

Grrrr. Don the Wellies and watch your hair fuzz up like a furball in this County. Went to see our Conservative candidate chappy today and stood with River son, at back of village hall and checked out the Brexiteer would-be MP. He is nothing short of . Phwooar! Tall, dark handsome, slim, committed, well infornmed and dee . ..licious

We went up to him at the end and asked him (river child, not me) who are his heroes ?

He said to River Child, not me, Lord Halifax (or other dependents) , Nancy Astor and Arminca Helik the Serbian Baroness in a box who was recently on Desert Island Discs.

He is the same age as my eldest child.

Bright lights, big City. Just arrived in Paddington. What a joy to be mud-free for 2 days.Bit of a blow they had no Corry chicken sandwiches at my fave station cafe first thing but an Apple Tango at least.Drizzle on train windows throughout the journey and speeding past horrendously flooded pasture.What an unremmitingly foul place this country can be in winter. I am to attend another funeral for friend early next week, who died early into November . Not surprised she gave up the ghost then. Exactly the right time of year to depart this (sodden) earth. Bet she couldn’t face another English winter.At Paddington I notice the men of all ages are so much taller and slimmer than they are at home. Such nice coats over their jeans and nicely tapered toes to their shoes.I am in a taxi on Park Lane. Rain hammering down on roof of black cab.

Walked on Dartmoor this morning Guided and 27 of us. Beautiful. Moderate in terms of strain and good pub lunch after . After plucked River Sprite fron school and took to the orthodontist.

I was so tired, sat in surgery while she was tilted up on couch having braces adjusted , leaned my head back against wall and snoozed.

“Mum you should know your mouth was open as u slept” damn good thing I thought and later said. After all I was in a dentist’s surgery. Open mouth policy at all times? Still I am shocked at my capacity for daytime sleeping. Narcolepsy?

T

The beautiful South Devon cattle that have been a fixture in the field across the river from us have been much photographed by me. Saw and commented that they were lying down yesterday. Then the mist came up as the day faded and they looked gorgeous, magical , orange beasts swathed in it.

But today a huge, rattly truck came down the road bearing the legend ‘livestock haulier” and I noticed they were gone abruptly from the field. Later saw their red fur poking out the side of the little ventilation slits truck. Saw them swaying around in the lorry. Time to become a veggy? Shudder – found it profoundly upsetting

Oh, the 20 year thing. Realise I want to go back to live in London. A place I left with great relief just under 20 years ago. Am fighting this urge. Not now and defection plans top secret, but for my old age. (If I get one). A City that is flat. Somewhere I don’t have to drive and which is sophisticated