Safely home

I’m not the only one in the family to have been on holiday.

My beloved sewing machine and her little friend have been in the repair shop for a while, getting some attention.  Until a couple of days ago, I feared that this extended stay might prove to be terminal but I’m glad to say, all is well again.

They both came home with their names attached in an appropriate way.

So, the good old reliable stand-by, which worked perfectly the minute it was taken from its case where it had spent the last five or six years, will take another extended leave.

Now that I’ve been reminded that even Bernina sewing machines don’t last forever, I will take a while and consider the options for a new one. However, intriguing and inspiring as this new model might be, I doubt that I’ll be seriously considering it. You did notice the price, didn’t you?

Getting back into the groove

I’m finding it hard to get back into things after my holiday.  It’s not exactly that I have nothing to do, you understand.  It’s just that I’m finding it hard to settle down and do it!

My desk is a tip.  I’m working on my journal and have the European Ephemera Mountain sitting awaiting my attention, and yet nothing I find seems to fit the bill.  I know it’s all there somewhere…

My hero has been someone else’s hero this last week, looking after a friend’s chickens three times a day whilst they were on holiday.  Yes, they laid eggs, so I thought I’d make our friends a cake for when they returned and made my favourite lemon drizzle cake with GF flour.

Oh dear.  It was such a sad affair I nearly didn’t give it to them at all.  But we did a little quality control and it tasted ok.  Just looked weird.

Then we had our lovely neighbours round for lunch yesterday, which involved my shelling a few pounds of peas.  It always makes me think of my Mum; the more so yesterday since it’s six years this weekend since she had her stroke.  My goodness.  I can’t believe we’ve been missing her for so long.

We had a fun lunch though and are still enjoying the leftovers.  There might not have been pavlova left, but there’s gin and tonic jellies and lemon possets in the fridge! 

Then today I was judging at one of my favourite shows.  Thankfully, a fine morning and a steady rise in temperatures, which meant that by the time the crowds came it was a beautifully sunny afternoon.

There were lots of really great entries and plenty to keep me amused for a few hours.  Once my work was done, we went off to the next village and had lunch in the pub.  The same steam train was puffing away down the line at the bottom of the garden as last year.

So, with September on the horizon and new terms, fresh starts and suchlike being discussed, I think I need to get my act together and get into gear, don’t you? 

Memories

As anyone who knows me will confirm, I have a bit of a thing about memories.  Making them, recording them, keeping them and perhaps, at times, trying to make sense of them.  This weekend, chatting to friends about the programme for the Cheltenham Literature Festival I spotted one of the themes for 2013: Memory.  There are several events which look very tempting, including this one and this one.

The subject is very much on my mind right now as I’m trying to get my road trip journal going, having abandoned it half way through due to a lack of time.  I’m aware that memories recorded at the time are very different from those remembered later and will refer frequently to scribbles in my notebook and the photographs I took for my own reference, like the one above.  Of course, I remember my room number in the first hotel of a trip, I might even remember the second…but as the days pass and we check into another hotel, I sometimes make a quick snap “just in case”.  After all, we’re security conscious enough not to carry our room key around in the wallet with the room number on it!  Thankfully, there’s a clear visual clue in the photograph to which hotel it refers to – The Eisenhut, of course.

Fast forward to this morning, then.  I was in Cirencester (not Baden Baden, as you might think from the map), having my hair cut and walked past Brewery Arts where there was an intriguing exhibition on.  I usually drop in when I’m around, just to see what’s what, but today that title hooked me in, needless to say. 

Oh my.  The work is lovely.  The design of the exhibition is super and the stories so inspiring.  But what I found most impressive were the stories told by the artist by means of her reflective journal, shown alongside the finished artworks.  Working with a group of elderly people in a care home and with some isolated carers, she created material for the exhibition, “A Celebration of Life and Love in Clay”.  The clay faces and other items on show are only part of the project though, because the process of making prompted so many profound responses, emotions and memories from the group, which Claire carefully explored and recorded with great sensitivity. 

I particularly appreciated the references to the excellent Five Ways to Well Being too.  Did you know there’s an app for that?

and that was that.

We’re home.

Le Shuttle wasn’t very busy yesterday.  In fact, although we had a 2.40pm booking, we were offered places on the 13.20pm train which suited us very well indeed.

After all, there is only so much one can do in Carrefour.

And so, laden with all the good times and a few new travellers’ tales to add to the collection, we boarded the train for home.

 

Just over half an hour later, there we were.

Well, nearly.  Of course, there was the M25 to negotiate and the lady who has been telling us where to go ever since we left home nearly three weeks ago was only warning of a fourteen minute delay on our route.  So, we dropped Edward off at Ashford, to catch his train into London and we continued home.

Another great trip to add to the collection! 

Four countries in a day

Did you guess?  We set off from Trier this morning, bright and breezy and in no time at all, we were crossing the border.  Please, be impressed by the efficiency with which we can pack the car these days – not a square inch is lost!

Anyway, here we were in Luxemburg and with time to spare, we thought we’d take a closer look.

We parked by a statue of some jolly Luxembourgers though once again, our search for a blue accessible parking space was thwarted.  What happened to European legislation on this side of the Channel, eh?

We followed the walking tour suggested by the tourist office and tried hard to think of a famous Luxembourger.  Famous Belgians?  We can name a few.  But who could we think of from the Grand Duchy?  Sadly, no-one came to mind, so when we encountered two young women from the tourist office standing outside the palace, wearing “Ask me a question” jackets, we did exactly that.  They could name only the heir to the Duchy, Guillaume and his wife Stephanie and what’s more, I was admonished by my hero for asking a question which could only emphasise the lowly status of the country in terms of world rankings.  Needless to say, that could not be further from our intentions and actually, Mary and I had an interesting conversation with the pair of them, learning about what’s great about growing up as a Luxembourger.  Great education, they said!

From the terraces by the modern Palace of Justice, there was a fine view of the lower city, reminding us all of Quebec.  It was a lovely place to spend a few minutes in the sunshine.

 

A little further along, I spotted this column in the distance and zoomed in to take a photograph, thinking I’d find out more later.  I haven’t found out anything yet and have no idea who she is, but I hope that whoever she is going to drop that cream pie on is ready and prepared for it!!

Our next stop was the cathedral with a collection of interesting and curiously shaped spires.

My eyes went immediately to the ceiling.

Then to the stained glass, both old

and new. (ish)

We were curious about the language – meng stad, especially when I spotted the three dots above the M in Luxemburg.  Is it a real linguistic form or a mere advertising gimmick?  Need to know (and will find out…but not now!)

Time was moving on and we needed to be on our way.  We hit the road again and passed into Belgium without further ado.  Not really a great deal to say about that.

The roads were pretty busy and there were quite a few heavy lorries making driving a challenge for my hero, but he coped of course!  Filling the car was another matter, since for some reason, the filling station demanded pre-payment – not that they explained that to anyone first, of course.  The result was that several people were trying to get the pumps to work with no success at all and there was much shrugging of shoulders and puzzled expressions until we heard the magic words “il faut prepayer” or whatever. 

Tiens!

Even the French pair at the pump beside us were perplexed and for once, there was a distinct entente-cordiale in this part of the filling station.  Doesn’t take much more than a weird Belgian practice to foster that, then!

Shortly afterwards, we were in France and almost at our destination: Lille.

Our hotel is near – almost in – the Grand Place and the decor so bold that I’m a little worried that the triffid will give me a hug in the night.  Hopefully, George and the other travelling companions will keep an eye on it.

The view is pretty good though.

We spent the afternoon wandering about and since Mary hasn’t been here before, we saw things through new, Californian eyes.  Yes, it is indeed a pretty spectacular place.

Of course, we’ve shopped at La Droguerie, too.

Our last dinner of the trip was rather smarter than we’ve been accustomed to of late, at L’Ecume des Mers.  Had I not ordered two courses which needed much mircosurgery and excavation, then we too would have been smart.  Still, the crab and the huge prawns were delicious and I’m sure no-one really noticed the splatter marks on my clothes (and on those around me)  as we left.

Goodnight from Lille!