It was Father's Day on Sunday. So not unnaturally the offspring all had to do make cards for their dad.
No 1's bore the legend, Daddy and doggy (wishful thinking or what) were walking in the park, when out of a bush leapt four little girls (how alarming) and they shouted, Happy Father's Day. Which coincidentally is also what they shouted in the recordable card I got for them. (Boy did I regret that!)
No 2 wrote Spouse a poem, which went like this:
Father's Day has come at last,
Your trying to hide it by wearing a mask,
Sitting in a room with a glassfull of beer (out of the mouths of babes!)
Now close your eyes and come right here...
No 2 is demonstrating an alarming propensity to show huge discernment about her parents - at her Open Day yesterday I came across a piece of writing in which she declared that her mother would watch Love Films if left to her own devices, while her dad would watch Scary Films. Which is just about right... though I do have a penchant for clever horror flicks...
No3 had drawn a picture of Super Dad. Look it's Super Dad, ran her caption. Wiat a minute I wonder who's dad it is... Wow it's my dad.
I was pretty impressed by this effort considering she isn't quite six yet, until I found no2's birthday offering which more or less said the same thing...
No 4 can't write (in fact I am beginning to wonder why I have sent her to a posh nursery - oh yes, it was so I could work - given that all the others who were deprived at preschool could write their names by now.) so no 2 kindly drew her card and wrote Happy Father's Day on it for her. Inspired by this no 4 then trogged off and came up with her own version, which had a picture of a purple creature on it. Is that me? asked Spouse brightly. Oh no, was the reply. It's an alien. Hmm... Wonder what Freud would have made of that...
Fortunately all of this activity kept them from coming in too early on Sunday morning (I hastily shoved them all downstairs at seven thirty with strict instructions that Dad really didn't want breakfast in bed just yet...)
It managed to stave them off for an hour, after which a little cohort appeared at the door bearing bowls of muesli, bread and cold tea. When no 1 learnt to make tea last year, I felt that at last my years of parenthood had been to some purpose. It will have been to good purpose once they learn to make a hot cup of tea...
Which brings me neatly on to my dear old dad, for whom the sole reason for having as many children as he did (I have seven siblings) was so he never went short of a cup of tea. I can't actually recall having made him cards for Father's Day as a child, as I don't think people went in for it much then. In fact, I think when he did start getting cards around the time I was in my teens he used to moan about it being commercial nonsense. Although, I suspect we'd have known about it if he hadn't had any...
Sadly my dad is no longer with us. He is in fact my dear departed old dad. Or DDOD for short. It's ok, it's been a long time now, and I am quite used to it. But on days like Sunday, it does suddenly strike you with a pang. There is a space which used to be inhabited by him, which will always be a vast chasm. And no one else will ever fill it. I suspect Spouse feels something similar. We lost his dad three years ago (I know very careless of us). And while for both our dads, it was in many ways a release, and they had both had what they would have termed a good innings... still. There is a poignancy now in the only dad in the family being Spouse. And while our children celebrate having him, we mourn still the loss of ours. And I suppose we always will.
The DDODs met on more then one occasion and alcohol was usually involved (that's where we get it from then). The first time they met, just before our wedding, in honour of the fact they were both WW2 vets (mine in the navy, Spouse's in the army), my father decided to bring in some rum to celebrate. He also did the cooking while we were out. By the time we got back most of the rum had gone, the dinner was cooked, and my dad was slightly squiffy to say the least. As mil is German we then had a Don't Mention the War kind of evening, except that's all they could talk about as it was all they had in common. Mil usually is sanguine about it, but after a few drinks she does tend to get a bit teary when she recalls having to flee her home. My dad, a sensitive soul, kept whispering to me sotto voce, Oh Dear, I think I've upset your mother in law. It wasn't too long before Spouse and I escaped to the pub...
On another, equally memorable occasion, the two mums had gone to bed and Spouse and I sat chewing the fat with the dads. By about midnight, both dads were well in their cups and my DDOFIL started telling vaguely risque jokes. My DDOD looked like he wanted to respond, but I could see I was cramping both their styles, and they were horrified that I knew what they were talking about... So I did the decent thing and slid gracefully off to bed. All night I heard a murmur of voices, which would suddenly get very loud and animated and then tail off into a mumble.
Spouse eventually left them to it, at about 2am. He had been sitting acolytelike at their feet, while they imparted the wisdom of their years, which as the evening wore on became somehwat more questionable. As he was there, he had to take the lackey role and keep refilling their glasses. In the end he poured my dad a large glass of brandy, his a large glass of whisky and then left them both to it.
In the morning my fil appeared bright and breezy about 9 am, but my dad didn't get up till lunchtime, when he appeared looking pale and wan and proceeded to drink water for the rest of the day. It was only many many years later that fil admitted to me that he had got up at 6am to sneak a quick whisky which kept him going for the rest of the day...
Which is why, much as I miss them both, I feel ok about it all really. Because I have this vision of my dad sitting on his cloud, his harp beside him, halo slightly slipping, a glass of claret in hand, tossing his head and saying, Father's Day, what a lot of nonsense. And sitting next to him, with a glass of whisky in his, fil, nodding wisely and responding with , Couldn't agree more old boy! Chin! Chin!
So I raise a glass to my two dads, wherever they may be. It was great to have them as long as we did. And I know they'll both appreciate the fact that we no longer have to waste our money on them...
For my two dads with all my lovexxxx
Wednesday, June 21, 2006
Wednesday, June 14, 2006
Busy, busy, busy...
Have been quiet this last week because all of a sudden I've been too busy to breathe. Not that I'm complaining, just that things all happen at once in this house.
After the excitement of the party last week ( I sold 38 copies, more then Eamonn Holmes did, when he visited our Ottakars the other week! - I've blogged about it in more detail at the party: http://RunningonEmptyLaunchParty.blogspot.com), we had an incredibly busy weekend. We were knackered from the start as our local council had inconveniently decided to dig up our road last week - in the middle of the night...
Monday/Tuesday we were kept awake till 2am by lorries trundling up the road. This wasn't too bad, and was to a point almost soporific. The crunch came when said lorries reversed back down again, usually just at the point when you were dropping off. Naturally in these health and safety conscious days they bleeped as they reversed. Plus they had nice bright orange flashy lights which turned our bedroom into a disco. Great. On Tuesday I rang up the council to complain and was put onto our local councillor. I clearly wasn't the only person who had made a fuss, as he told me he was working his way down the list.
By Wednesday it looked as though most of the work had been done, so we foolishly presumed it was all over. How wrong we were. At 9.30pm the drilling started. And not any old drill you understand, but a huge f***off, drill to end all drills. And it didn't stop till 4.30am. The house was shaking at times. If we made that much noise pollution we would get served with an asbo.
On Thursday, we really really thought it was all over. But no. At 10pm the drilling started again, and this time stopped at 4am. By this time Spouse and I were incandescent with fury and fruitlessly rang every number we could find to complain: our local council emergency number (a man in the Midlands who simply logs your call and tells you to ring tomorrow), the police (no one can help till tomorrow), the emergency number provided by the diggers (unobtainable), the local county council (where Spouse left an uncharacteristically rude message), and finally our poor benighted councillor, who really earned his money last week...
On Friday the police rang back and told me that it wasn't their responsibility (I had been told they had authorised the work), so basically everyone was passing the buck. I did eventually hear from the county council who said, did I want to lodge a formal complaint? You bet I did!!! The woman concerned did at least say they would look into it, so I await further developments with bated breath... At least they seem to have finished now.
Friday night, we had arranged to go out for a drink as I wanted to see one or two people who hadn't made the party. But being so exhausted from all this exciting activity chez nous, we didn't stay out late and were in bed by eleven, as Saturday was full of our usual ballet run shenanigans. We had also been invited by some friends to a barbecue to watch the footie.
No 1 has developed a great interest in the footie - so much so that I spent Sat morning finding her a fantasy football team - I keep trying to gently bring her down to earth by suggesting that we might not win. But she won't have it. She is sure we will. I wish I shared her optimism. I did tell her she's going to have her heart broken and she looked at me baffled. Well she is only ten. She doesn't yet know the agony of a penalty shoot out...
The barbie was lovely - we sat in the sunshine while the sprogs played. I also reencountered my doggie friend, Toffee, who I've written about in my book (it's on my website, www.marathonmum.com if you're interested). Basically Toffee managed to get me lost in a tiny village in Spain - and on meeting him again I realised why. When his mistress told him to go left, he went right. I was running with a dog with no sense of direction... It all makes perfect sense now.
Our life being what it is, we were not only invited to the barbie, but also a fiftieth later in the evening. So we had to dash back home with the sprogs, settle them down, get spruced up and head off out again at about 9.30. It was a glorious evening and we didn't end up leaving till 2. We pretty much danced all night, which was fun - though our dj mate would keep playing our favourite tracks as I was trying to shoe horn Spouse home. I was driving so was stone cold sober, but I did have to get up early as no 2 was getting all togged up in her Holy Communion glad rags to have a party to celebrate the occasion. And we had the school summer fete... oh joy.
So I took the sprogs to church in the morning, while Spouse did men's things in the garden. All apart from no 4, who got up complaining of a headache, and then keeled over in her bedroom as she was getting dressed. I think she had mild sunstroke... Fortunately it didn't last long. Luckily no one fell in the font at church this time either...
Then it was home for a quick lunch before dashing out to school.
I must have MUG written on my forehead. I really hate school fetes. And I really hate helping on stalls. And yet I always find myself both attending them and helping. As I have two children in the juniors, I had two stalls to help on. And no1 was taking part in a dance display so I had to rearrange both stints so I saw her perform. When I got there I discovered that the dance routine was taking place later then I was told, so I arrived twenty minutes late for the putting I was supposed to be helping with.
The first stall I was meant to help on turned out to be overstaffed, so with great relief I took the kids round and they quickly liberated me of nearly all the money I had. Nos 3&4 insisted on queuing up for tatoos, only for them to decide they were too itchy so I had to rub them off. An hour later they wanted more... Nos 1&2 had their hair dyed - no 2 declared that she'd never do it again when she realised how difficult it was to wash out.
It was very hot, I got heat rash, and was very bad tempered. However, the kids loved it, no 1's dancing was great and one of her teachers had a very fine band which played my kind of music all day long.
So it wasn't a complete washout....
I got home, sorted out tea, left Spouse to put the kids to bed and headed out for a very welcome game of tennis.
I was so knackered when I got back I was sure I would sleep the sleep of the dead.
The only problem is our bedroom was so hot I found it rather difficult to sleep.
I think I need a holiday....
After the excitement of the party last week ( I sold 38 copies, more then Eamonn Holmes did, when he visited our Ottakars the other week! - I've blogged about it in more detail at the party: http://RunningonEmptyLaunchParty.blogspot.com), we had an incredibly busy weekend. We were knackered from the start as our local council had inconveniently decided to dig up our road last week - in the middle of the night...
Monday/Tuesday we were kept awake till 2am by lorries trundling up the road. This wasn't too bad, and was to a point almost soporific. The crunch came when said lorries reversed back down again, usually just at the point when you were dropping off. Naturally in these health and safety conscious days they bleeped as they reversed. Plus they had nice bright orange flashy lights which turned our bedroom into a disco. Great. On Tuesday I rang up the council to complain and was put onto our local councillor. I clearly wasn't the only person who had made a fuss, as he told me he was working his way down the list.
By Wednesday it looked as though most of the work had been done, so we foolishly presumed it was all over. How wrong we were. At 9.30pm the drilling started. And not any old drill you understand, but a huge f***off, drill to end all drills. And it didn't stop till 4.30am. The house was shaking at times. If we made that much noise pollution we would get served with an asbo.
On Thursday, we really really thought it was all over. But no. At 10pm the drilling started again, and this time stopped at 4am. By this time Spouse and I were incandescent with fury and fruitlessly rang every number we could find to complain: our local council emergency number (a man in the Midlands who simply logs your call and tells you to ring tomorrow), the police (no one can help till tomorrow), the emergency number provided by the diggers (unobtainable), the local county council (where Spouse left an uncharacteristically rude message), and finally our poor benighted councillor, who really earned his money last week...
On Friday the police rang back and told me that it wasn't their responsibility (I had been told they had authorised the work), so basically everyone was passing the buck. I did eventually hear from the county council who said, did I want to lodge a formal complaint? You bet I did!!! The woman concerned did at least say they would look into it, so I await further developments with bated breath... At least they seem to have finished now.
Friday night, we had arranged to go out for a drink as I wanted to see one or two people who hadn't made the party. But being so exhausted from all this exciting activity chez nous, we didn't stay out late and were in bed by eleven, as Saturday was full of our usual ballet run shenanigans. We had also been invited by some friends to a barbecue to watch the footie.
No 1 has developed a great interest in the footie - so much so that I spent Sat morning finding her a fantasy football team - I keep trying to gently bring her down to earth by suggesting that we might not win. But she won't have it. She is sure we will. I wish I shared her optimism. I did tell her she's going to have her heart broken and she looked at me baffled. Well she is only ten. She doesn't yet know the agony of a penalty shoot out...
The barbie was lovely - we sat in the sunshine while the sprogs played. I also reencountered my doggie friend, Toffee, who I've written about in my book (it's on my website, www.marathonmum.com if you're interested). Basically Toffee managed to get me lost in a tiny village in Spain - and on meeting him again I realised why. When his mistress told him to go left, he went right. I was running with a dog with no sense of direction... It all makes perfect sense now.
Our life being what it is, we were not only invited to the barbie, but also a fiftieth later in the evening. So we had to dash back home with the sprogs, settle them down, get spruced up and head off out again at about 9.30. It was a glorious evening and we didn't end up leaving till 2. We pretty much danced all night, which was fun - though our dj mate would keep playing our favourite tracks as I was trying to shoe horn Spouse home. I was driving so was stone cold sober, but I did have to get up early as no 2 was getting all togged up in her Holy Communion glad rags to have a party to celebrate the occasion. And we had the school summer fete... oh joy.
So I took the sprogs to church in the morning, while Spouse did men's things in the garden. All apart from no 4, who got up complaining of a headache, and then keeled over in her bedroom as she was getting dressed. I think she had mild sunstroke... Fortunately it didn't last long. Luckily no one fell in the font at church this time either...
Then it was home for a quick lunch before dashing out to school.
I must have MUG written on my forehead. I really hate school fetes. And I really hate helping on stalls. And yet I always find myself both attending them and helping. As I have two children in the juniors, I had two stalls to help on. And no1 was taking part in a dance display so I had to rearrange both stints so I saw her perform. When I got there I discovered that the dance routine was taking place later then I was told, so I arrived twenty minutes late for the putting I was supposed to be helping with.
The first stall I was meant to help on turned out to be overstaffed, so with great relief I took the kids round and they quickly liberated me of nearly all the money I had. Nos 3&4 insisted on queuing up for tatoos, only for them to decide they were too itchy so I had to rub them off. An hour later they wanted more... Nos 1&2 had their hair dyed - no 2 declared that she'd never do it again when she realised how difficult it was to wash out.
It was very hot, I got heat rash, and was very bad tempered. However, the kids loved it, no 1's dancing was great and one of her teachers had a very fine band which played my kind of music all day long.
So it wasn't a complete washout....
I got home, sorted out tea, left Spouse to put the kids to bed and headed out for a very welcome game of tennis.
I was so knackered when I got back I was sure I would sleep the sleep of the dead.
The only problem is our bedroom was so hot I found it rather difficult to sleep.
I think I need a holiday....
Thursday, June 08, 2006
Party on down...
The good news is, the books arrived. Phew!!! And I still have some fingernails left.
The better news is, that my online launch party is now officially open.
So get your dancing (or should I say running) shoes on and come on down.
Eat drink and be merry - the great thing about an online launch party is that you won't end up with a hangover or putting on weight.
I'm just off for a run to help me thrash out my speech tonight, then I'm going to be dashing about sorting things out for tonight.
Hope to see some of you later in cyber space!
And thanks for the support.
I seem to have had a few new readers in the last couple of weeks - so hope you enjoy the blog!
The better news is, that my online launch party is now officially open.
So get your dancing (or should I say running) shoes on and come on down.
Eat drink and be merry - the great thing about an online launch party is that you won't end up with a hangover or putting on weight.
I'm just off for a run to help me thrash out my speech tonight, then I'm going to be dashing about sorting things out for tonight.
Hope to see some of you later in cyber space!
And thanks for the support.
I seem to have had a few new readers in the last couple of weeks - so hope you enjoy the blog!
Tuesday, June 06, 2006
We have lift off - kind of...
I am delighted to report that if you go on to Amazon you should now be able find my book by keying in the title: Running on Empty: Diary of a Marathon Mum by Julia Williams - I found it by using Quick Search. Apparently it can take 4-6 weeks via Amazon, but if you can't wait (and I'm sure you can't!!!) Drop into my launch party and order the book at a discount of £5.99 plus p&p, by going to: http://RunningonEmptyLaunchParty.blogspot.com.
Am currently suffering from last minute nerves as books still not with me owing to technical difficulties. They are allegedly printing as we speak, so fingers crossed I should get them in time. Otherwise I will be holding a bookless launch party. But as a woman who had a wedding without a wedding ring, I suppose that follows a pattern rather. And as my sister remarked it is rather postmodern....
See you in cyberspace on Thursday when I hope I'll have some books to sell...
Am currently suffering from last minute nerves as books still not with me owing to technical difficulties. They are allegedly printing as we speak, so fingers crossed I should get them in time. Otherwise I will be holding a bookless launch party. But as a woman who had a wedding without a wedding ring, I suppose that follows a pattern rather. And as my sister remarked it is rather postmodern....
See you in cyberspace on Thursday when I hope I'll have some books to sell...
Monday, June 05, 2006
Ein Gutes Fahrt Nach Deutschland
Well at least I think that's the right way of saying we had a good trip. The children of course find the word Fahrt - which sounds like the word you think it does hilarious. And were on the floor to discover that the word for Daddy is Vati - pronounced Farty. Oh such larks.
Being as I am a big wuss about flying, I usually get myself in a lather before getting on a plane. Since the advent of children I have found they keep me busy enough to calm the nerves a bit, but at the same time I also have to work quite hard to keep the panic out of my voice on the take off and landing - the bits I really really hate. Nerves not helped this time by the sight of machine gunned cops patrolling Heathrow, nor by the rather bumpy landing in Hamburg - apparently it's very windy there and always like that. But we had the two littlies screaming that their ears hurt (lucky Spouse was dealing with them), no 2 lay dramatically across my lap, having twigged I think( despite my best efforts) that I was none too keen on events, and no1 apparently clutched my mother's hand so tightly she thought it would break...
Still we landed in one piece and then it was off for the adventure that is finding a hire car in a foreign land. On one trip to Spain Spouse disappeared for nearly an hour as the hire car place was two miles up the road from the airport, and I was left with four rather restless children and lots of luggage...
This time we were helped by the fact that though mil needs assisted passage and walks very slowly with a walker she calls her Steel Horse, my mother is still pretty able, so we deposited the grannies (or the Omis as they are known in Germany) with the offspring and set off in search for the Avis office. We had arrived at Terminal 1, so of course the Avis office was in Terminal 2. We eventually found it, got the keys to our car - or rather bus, it was really a Mercedes van that seated nine - to discover that said bus was on the fourth floor of the furthest carpark. After debating whether to let the grannies know what was going on or just get the car, we opted for the latter and then spent a merry half hour getting lost in the one way system in Hamburg. Once we had found the right route and picked everyone up, we spent another merry hour or so driving through Hamburg in the pouring rain before eventually finding the right motorway. Normally we fly to Hannover which is only an hour away from our destination of Wolfsburg, but this time we couldn't get flights when we wanted so now we were a further two hours away, and we had arrived at six pm. The hotel we stay in is rather quiet so they don't actually have any staff on on Sundays, and we had to pick up the keys from my mil's rellies, who luckily live just down the road. Once unpacked and children happily deposited with grannies, we headed across the road for a quick drink in the very freundlichen gasthof before bedtime - originally we thought we might get a meal there, but it got so late we ended up feeding everyone from a rather dodgy looking bratwurst vendor at a fair that we happened to past.
The gasthof was just as it had been on our previous visit and the owner came over to greet us like longlost friends which was rather nice - as was the mindblowing schapps he also offered us on the house. So Spouse and I staggered our way home in preparation for an earlyish start with the rellies up the road who were coming for breakfast.
Actually the rellies up the road aren't really, or rather one of them is of a kind in that his mother was step great aunt to my mil, but the family connection has gone on so long now we all treat them like family. They are very jolly and kept us highly amused at breakfast although the Kindern spent most of their time in a fog and hadn't a clue what was being said to them. After breakfast it was off to visit mil's rather fearsome sister, who has MS and has lived in a home for the last thirty years where she merrily bosses everyone about and gives everyone merry hell. She is a splendid example of a difficult aunt. Every family ought to have one. We did, but ours has popped off now. However, we were in trouble the moment we arrived because we were late, so you can't have everything.
We left mil with her and headed for the rather splendid pool that graces the outskirts of Wolfsburg, where we all machen vielen spass mucking about with the wave machine and going on rides round the jet stream which takes you outside. Although it rained the whole day luckily the sun came out for that bit.
Then it was back to pick up mil and have dinner in the hotel with mil's best friend and husband. Sadly best friend now a bit Alzheimerish, so I spent the whole meal confirming that Ja, Spouse was Mein Mann, and er she had actually come to the wedding. Still she seemed pretty happy and certainly hadn't forgotten mil, which was great. Plus another school friend had tipped up for the party so that was good too. And the bonus for me was that for the first time ever in Germany I found myself understanding a four way conversation. Maybe now they're all old they speak slower...
The week progressed in similar vein - we had two visits to different farms, and luckily this time mil didn't arrange so many things that we clashed appointment times with people (one year Spouse and she went to tea witn one friend while I waited with fil and the children at another, and everyone was offering the inevitable Kaffee and Kuchen that you get in Germany). We were also able to show the children again the fabulous Wolfsburg Castle where their Great Granny grew up - well technically she lived in a little house in the corner of the grounds which is now part of the building which houses the castle museum. Her father was the Riding Master to the Count von Schulenberg, and his job in World War I was to make sure the Count made it back from the Somme in one piece. My family is dead boring by comparison, so I find it all fascinating.
Spouse also dragged us all around the Volkswagen works and this time we took a tour of the works themselves. Personally I think I've seen all I need to know about robots making cars from those Picasso car ads, so I took the opportunity to have a little snooze, but the others seemed to enjoy it...
We also had a fabulous day at the house of the non-rellies. They live in an old farmhouse which has been in the house for generations and have the most magical garden with a beautiful pond, tons of wonderful plants, the neatest lawn imaginable and lots of nooks and crannies for the kids to hide in. It's also full of wonderful old stone memorials they've picked up on their travels and a water feature to end all water features made of an old stone mill. Charlie Dimmock eat your heart out...
So we had a jolly meal with them, followed a day later by an equally jolly meal with some of mil's rellies who own a farm in what used to be East Germany. By dint of sheer hard work and determination they have built up their milk farm from scratch again since the Wall came down. The kids were wowed by the cows and the two little pigs they saw (we didn't let them know that the piggies weren't likely to make it to adulthood for fear of turning them vegetarian), although unfortunately for me they all took a shine to the dog we took for a walk. Oh dear. With the demise of Georgie I feel my dogless days maybe numbered...
We then had a fabulous walk around the town walls of Gardelegen, the mediaeval town where mil grew up, before a short trip out to Isenschnibbe, the estate she lived on as a child (her father was an estate manager for the Prince of Lippott-Detmolt - I told you her background was interesting...) before heading home to eat with our friends across the road.
Our final day was spent with mil's sister and another trip to the pool, before a final very jolly meal in a restaurant owned by rellies of the non rellies.
All in all it was a great trip, made infinitely better by having an extra pair of hands in the form of my capable mother, the fact that the children are now older, and my sudden whizzy ability to speak German. And I was only marginally terrified on the way home when I spotted a man with a beard carrying a suspicious looking computer case. I thought he'd checked in and then left the airport, but then he popped up in Duty Free. I wasn't quite sure whether I wanted him on the plane, or of it...
Luckily my fears were groundless and we had a smooth trip down, and though I still shut my eyes, I did manage to peep out and see the millenium wheel on the way down. And now I can breathe a sigh of relief as it will be a year or so before I have to go on a plane again...
Fur unser erlebtetes Familie und Freunden in Deutschland, die haben uns ein gutes schones Besuch gemacht.
Being as I am a big wuss about flying, I usually get myself in a lather before getting on a plane. Since the advent of children I have found they keep me busy enough to calm the nerves a bit, but at the same time I also have to work quite hard to keep the panic out of my voice on the take off and landing - the bits I really really hate. Nerves not helped this time by the sight of machine gunned cops patrolling Heathrow, nor by the rather bumpy landing in Hamburg - apparently it's very windy there and always like that. But we had the two littlies screaming that their ears hurt (lucky Spouse was dealing with them), no 2 lay dramatically across my lap, having twigged I think( despite my best efforts) that I was none too keen on events, and no1 apparently clutched my mother's hand so tightly she thought it would break...
Still we landed in one piece and then it was off for the adventure that is finding a hire car in a foreign land. On one trip to Spain Spouse disappeared for nearly an hour as the hire car place was two miles up the road from the airport, and I was left with four rather restless children and lots of luggage...
This time we were helped by the fact that though mil needs assisted passage and walks very slowly with a walker she calls her Steel Horse, my mother is still pretty able, so we deposited the grannies (or the Omis as they are known in Germany) with the offspring and set off in search for the Avis office. We had arrived at Terminal 1, so of course the Avis office was in Terminal 2. We eventually found it, got the keys to our car - or rather bus, it was really a Mercedes van that seated nine - to discover that said bus was on the fourth floor of the furthest carpark. After debating whether to let the grannies know what was going on or just get the car, we opted for the latter and then spent a merry half hour getting lost in the one way system in Hamburg. Once we had found the right route and picked everyone up, we spent another merry hour or so driving through Hamburg in the pouring rain before eventually finding the right motorway. Normally we fly to Hannover which is only an hour away from our destination of Wolfsburg, but this time we couldn't get flights when we wanted so now we were a further two hours away, and we had arrived at six pm. The hotel we stay in is rather quiet so they don't actually have any staff on on Sundays, and we had to pick up the keys from my mil's rellies, who luckily live just down the road. Once unpacked and children happily deposited with grannies, we headed across the road for a quick drink in the very freundlichen gasthof before bedtime - originally we thought we might get a meal there, but it got so late we ended up feeding everyone from a rather dodgy looking bratwurst vendor at a fair that we happened to past.
The gasthof was just as it had been on our previous visit and the owner came over to greet us like longlost friends which was rather nice - as was the mindblowing schapps he also offered us on the house. So Spouse and I staggered our way home in preparation for an earlyish start with the rellies up the road who were coming for breakfast.
Actually the rellies up the road aren't really, or rather one of them is of a kind in that his mother was step great aunt to my mil, but the family connection has gone on so long now we all treat them like family. They are very jolly and kept us highly amused at breakfast although the Kindern spent most of their time in a fog and hadn't a clue what was being said to them. After breakfast it was off to visit mil's rather fearsome sister, who has MS and has lived in a home for the last thirty years where she merrily bosses everyone about and gives everyone merry hell. She is a splendid example of a difficult aunt. Every family ought to have one. We did, but ours has popped off now. However, we were in trouble the moment we arrived because we were late, so you can't have everything.
We left mil with her and headed for the rather splendid pool that graces the outskirts of Wolfsburg, where we all machen vielen spass mucking about with the wave machine and going on rides round the jet stream which takes you outside. Although it rained the whole day luckily the sun came out for that bit.
Then it was back to pick up mil and have dinner in the hotel with mil's best friend and husband. Sadly best friend now a bit Alzheimerish, so I spent the whole meal confirming that Ja, Spouse was Mein Mann, and er she had actually come to the wedding. Still she seemed pretty happy and certainly hadn't forgotten mil, which was great. Plus another school friend had tipped up for the party so that was good too. And the bonus for me was that for the first time ever in Germany I found myself understanding a four way conversation. Maybe now they're all old they speak slower...
The week progressed in similar vein - we had two visits to different farms, and luckily this time mil didn't arrange so many things that we clashed appointment times with people (one year Spouse and she went to tea witn one friend while I waited with fil and the children at another, and everyone was offering the inevitable Kaffee and Kuchen that you get in Germany). We were also able to show the children again the fabulous Wolfsburg Castle where their Great Granny grew up - well technically she lived in a little house in the corner of the grounds which is now part of the building which houses the castle museum. Her father was the Riding Master to the Count von Schulenberg, and his job in World War I was to make sure the Count made it back from the Somme in one piece. My family is dead boring by comparison, so I find it all fascinating.
Spouse also dragged us all around the Volkswagen works and this time we took a tour of the works themselves. Personally I think I've seen all I need to know about robots making cars from those Picasso car ads, so I took the opportunity to have a little snooze, but the others seemed to enjoy it...
We also had a fabulous day at the house of the non-rellies. They live in an old farmhouse which has been in the house for generations and have the most magical garden with a beautiful pond, tons of wonderful plants, the neatest lawn imaginable and lots of nooks and crannies for the kids to hide in. It's also full of wonderful old stone memorials they've picked up on their travels and a water feature to end all water features made of an old stone mill. Charlie Dimmock eat your heart out...
So we had a jolly meal with them, followed a day later by an equally jolly meal with some of mil's rellies who own a farm in what used to be East Germany. By dint of sheer hard work and determination they have built up their milk farm from scratch again since the Wall came down. The kids were wowed by the cows and the two little pigs they saw (we didn't let them know that the piggies weren't likely to make it to adulthood for fear of turning them vegetarian), although unfortunately for me they all took a shine to the dog we took for a walk. Oh dear. With the demise of Georgie I feel my dogless days maybe numbered...
We then had a fabulous walk around the town walls of Gardelegen, the mediaeval town where mil grew up, before a short trip out to Isenschnibbe, the estate she lived on as a child (her father was an estate manager for the Prince of Lippott-Detmolt - I told you her background was interesting...) before heading home to eat with our friends across the road.
Our final day was spent with mil's sister and another trip to the pool, before a final very jolly meal in a restaurant owned by rellies of the non rellies.
All in all it was a great trip, made infinitely better by having an extra pair of hands in the form of my capable mother, the fact that the children are now older, and my sudden whizzy ability to speak German. And I was only marginally terrified on the way home when I spotted a man with a beard carrying a suspicious looking computer case. I thought he'd checked in and then left the airport, but then he popped up in Duty Free. I wasn't quite sure whether I wanted him on the plane, or of it...
Luckily my fears were groundless and we had a smooth trip down, and though I still shut my eyes, I did manage to peep out and see the millenium wheel on the way down. And now I can breathe a sigh of relief as it will be a year or so before I have to go on a plane again...
Fur unser erlebtetes Familie und Freunden in Deutschland, die haben uns ein gutes schones Besuch gemacht.
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