Wake me up when July ends

Wow, what a month.  So much has happened.

Following the wedding in Wales, we came home to non-stop, back-to-back events at work and play.  It was beginning to feel like there wasn't enough hours in the day to fit everything in.  A few that stick in my mind are:

The London Trip: 

The London Eye Selfie

Taking 98 excited kids and 6 amazing colleagues to London shouldn't be a problem for a trip veteran like me.  They all turned up, dressed as requested, with food, water, and resources to keep them entertained on the bus.  They were, as expected, impeccably behaved, and ready for a great day out.  We took selfies at 745am at school, on the bus, at the Eye, on the Clipper, with the river and Shard in the background, at the Tower, eating lunch, in the queues for the exhibits, and on the bus again.  I think they finally lost the selfie bug on arrival back home.

And when the last one had been collected from front reception about 9pm, I could finally breathe and reflect that, yes, it was a great day.  My final trip at my current school, and it was a great memory to take with me.

The handbag:    Never, never, NEVER leave your handbag (containing your house (£70) and car key (£170), your notebook with all your lists for the move, your wallet, payslip, driving licence and counterpart (£34), 3/4 bottle of Marc Jacobs Honey (£50), make-up (£50?), glasses (£85), Spies by Michael Frayn (£8), etc etc) in the foot well of a car....  

One very expensive and important lesson was learnt, but also one organisation was introduced to me.  If you ever find yourself in my shoes, contact CIFAS Fraud Protection Service (£20) without delay.

The last day and night out weekend:   So the day finally arrive, albeit cut shorter than anticipated, with lots of big blobby tears, and the final walk out of work, box in hand, was quite uneventful.

Not so for the night out, which finally ended about 10pm on Saturday night.   Starting at 7pm Friday at the KPH, the Dirty Dancing started early on.  Tewy was in his element with 20 ladies to lift and jive around the dance floor with, bruising their toes and damaging his back in the process.

Typical of a few rogue elements (the Ks), the escape to town began about 1145pm.  They were the advanced party to suss out the best place to socialise until the early hours and locate somewhere that wasn't going to continue to swindle each of us out of £27.50 for a bottle of bog standard Prosecco.  Little did we know, as we followed along behind them, that we were in for an interesting insight to the No1 Disco Venue in Kettering - Decades!  Actually, it couldn't have been that bad, as it took us from 1230am to 2am until we finally threw in the towel and called Superman to rescue us.  

Following a good ten hours lull in proceedings, we commenced again at 2pm with coffee and cakes and a 50th birthday tea party.  Moving into the garden, we feasted on toast, tea and biscuits for the afternoon, then rounding off the evening, with Himalayan Chicken, at the award winning Royal Tandoori.

It took a few days to get over the handbag and leaving do, and finally after spending what seemed like hours, even days, on the phone, on Wednesday I surfaced and faced the world again.
 
The lazy couple of hours at Foxton Locks:  Having nipped around the bookshops of Market Harborough trying to locate a replacement copy of Michael Frayn's Spies, I decided that a couple of hours on a park bench was needed. Just outside MH is the beauty spot Foxton Locks. An elaborate array of locks stepping down (or up, depending on your direction) the Grand Union Canal. There is a shop selling essentials to the boating holiday makers, a small quaint pub (favoured by Superman) named Bridge 61, and, following a refit a few years ago, a trendy watering-hole serving food and drinks, aptly entitled The Foxton Locks.   The latter gets very busy on a fair weather day, although there is a constant flow of traffic so you never have to wait too long for a table in the sunshine. 

The daughter's leaving do:   Before I knew it, it was time to pack my new book into my new bag and rush to meet son, and get the food and drink ready for the before and after party revellers. 

The main event, at The Loft, was a fab night.  Attended by nearly 200 under 18s, the staff managed the music, dry-bar and door professionally and without too many hiccups.  In fact, less contraband was confiscated from them then from the Friday Dirty Dancing event...  

Before we knew it, the party was over and we were on our way home, via a refreshment break for a sneaky McCafe Frappe Mocha - 500 cals of loveliness, and the gaggle of sleep-over teens could begin to work their way through my fridge (to include my 'On the Beach' pre-mixed cocktail) like a plague of locusts.

The next day, The son's leaving do, was soon upon us, and I had to start again, this time with Paint balling and pizza for 17 teens.  Again the venue, Alpha Bravo, was amazing in organising a gang of boys in no time at all.  They all had a great time, some with more bruises than others.

The daughter, the only female of the species in the group, is definitely the most deadly.  She was labelled as the most vicious and a crack shoot; obviously taking after the female side of our family, as her cousin, Pip, has just returned from the European Youth Cup in Russia with a silver medal shooting for Archery GB Recurve Junior Women Team.    

To round off a busy week, today saw a visit from our tenants.  I love them.  A young family to whom we will entrust our Northants home, hopefully, for a good long period of time, without hesitation.  They will clearly fit into the neighbourhood as they are friendly, chatty and like people.  Our neighbours are important to us, and to have found a family who will embrace life in the cul-de-sac makes that element of our move simply run smooth.

Now, with only one week left till the 31st July, and a million and one things still to do, I just wish that I could go to bed tonight and wake up when July ends...

Social media: Love it or hate it, some of us NEED it!

Social media:  Love it or hate it, some of us NEED it!

Well I haven't been on here for twelve or so weeks; In the past three months a lot has happened.  The migration is ticking on, I've had a blast from the distant past, a family gathering

and I've made some new wonderful friends.

How is that fair?  I've been a economic migrant of middle England for 24 years and in the past twelve months have made some fantastic friends, just in time to leave some of them and move 6000 miles away.  And I worry every day how we will get by without them.

One thing is good, that some of these said new friends - made via social media -  will be coming with us.  They are the next stage in our network of friends and colleagues... I wonder if they realise what they are letting themselves in for?  The responsibility they have , the shoes they have to fit into?

If anyone ever says Spacebook or Slap Chat or Bicker are the bain of the 21st century then don't believe them.  I've supported and councilled friends, found long-lost family, and insulted colleagues, and these interactions have all taken place within seconds of each other and without leaving my living room...  it's great!  Best of all, I've rekindled relationships with sisters, cousins, nieces and old RAF and school friends.

How else would I know that Jase has just had a beautiful little girl, Rach had moved back to Poola or that Rich is married to my ex-BIL's step daughter.  Nor would I know that J is now doing an amazing and heroic job.  One incidentally, I never expected from the pretentious undergraduate who ripped out my tender small-town teenage heart and, with his intellectual girlfriend, stamped on it to the joyful songs of 1988.

Not that I hold a grudge or anything....  but let's just say I might not be able to stop myself from mounting the kerb if I'm ever in the same street ;-)  Actually, being sensible, in light of the fact that if it wasn't for him I wouldn't be the successful graduate I am today, who served with HMF, moved from said small town, on my own, to middle England, married Superman and had two beautiful children, so in retrospect, Superman and I have concluded that maybe we should pop to the borders to shake his hand and buy him a pint?

Talking pints, the Road to KL has spurred a new past time amongst New friends.  As we are all reluctantly counting down the days, and have realised what little time we have,  we have started to meet up every Thursday for the pub quiz.

With high aspirations and the motivation to do well, we model ourselves on Cj, Daphne and Judith. And as such, have also called ourselves a totally logical name:  we are the 69'ers with no name - catchy isn't it?  But don't be dismayed in our endeavor, as it's not all bad. We've managed to win at least three times in the past nine weeks.  But with a total prize fund of less than £70, we are hardly in Judith's million pound league.  And we struggle too, as we have another 10-15 equally motivated teams of tributes to beat.  Therefore, the odds are not really in our favour.  But we are together, having fun, building memories.

Well we only have two quiz nights left as the holiday season begins and we will all be off on travels, visiting, being visited or simple packing the house up for storage. So we need to make the most of our time together.  In my desperation to not miss out on the fun,  I have threatened to Skype them on a Thursday evening between 2100 - 2230hrs.  But with a time difference of approx eight hours - that's 0400-0530hrs on a Friday morning for me - maybe I'll have to wait until school holidays and fit the 69ers in between Thailand, Laos, the Batu Caves, or scuba diving in Borneo with Green Turtles.

But in the meantime, I'm making the most of my family and friends, chatting and sharing missed times or details of key events in our lives.  These past three months have been priceless and I have made memories to keep be smiling on long, light, hot, humid evenings in my tropical destination.  When I look back I will especially enjoy reflecting on ... now to tell you all that would just spoil the surprise for when you meet up with them too.

So until next Friday, when with friends and colleagues we are making more memories by attending my leaving do and eating and drinking and dancing all night at a Dirty Dancing Tribute night...  and I need to remember that it will be okay starting again.  It will be okay becoming an economic migrant of SE Asia, although I'm leaving behind the family and friends who have supported, shaped, inspired, infuriated, crippled, loved, cared, influenced me over the years.  And a little bit if me is scared that without them I might not feel the same, might not be the person I am with them...

Me? I’m scared of everything. I’m scared of what I saw, I’m scared of what I did, of who I am, and most of all I’m scared of walking out of this room and never feeling the rest of my whole life the way I feel when I’m with you.”

So all hail social media!  You are going to be my life line.