Mam

Mam kept a wee diary, in which she recorded a few sentences about what she had done that day.

I saw her writing, every evening, but I never looked at the diary, although she never hid it.

The ‘Collins’ diaries were still there, when I went to Buckie to prepare the house for sale, in 2002. I was tempted to bring them back with me, but in the end, chose to take only one. It’s the diary she wrote in 1965. I was 15 in 1965.

I was miserable in 1965 and I wanted to see myself from her point of view. But I couldn’t bear to read it, when I brought it home to California, and it’s only, in March, 2008, that I’ve looked at it.

So far, from her brief entries, I’ve confirmed what I already suspected about her life. She was as unhappy as I was. She’d lived the whole of her married life in the same house as her mother-in-law.

In the diary, she referred to her mother-in-law as ‘Ma C.’ Mam was always gentle, polite and her describing her mother-in-law as ‘Ma C.’ tells everything about how she felt about her.

Mam was often ill and spent many days in bed that year. She had severe migraine headaches and bilious attacks, which I am sure were stress-induced.

I read only the entry for the corresponding current date and from the beginning of March, she had spent most days in bed.

Even so, she made breakfast for her parents-in-law and lunch for me when I had a break at school. Dad was at sea during the week and oblivious to all this. He did not ever understand the urgency to get his wife a home and kitchen of her own.

I did understand, but I was 15. What could I have done?

Cheerio 2007, Hello 2008

2007 was a gey year for many of our friends. We already know they will face serious challenges in 2008. So while they are included in the “Happy New Year” wish, I have to add the wish that whatever medical procedures they face will have a successful outcome.

I made new friends in 2007 and enjoyed the company of old friends.  Thanks to the Internet, I could spend time with them, without being ‘there.’ I had the most fun being a WAG (wee Annie’s gang!). We WAGs have tormented Los Andys (Andy Mack of Bluewater Radio in Canada and Andy Ross of Scottish Internet Radio.) I’ll be listening to their Hogmanay Internet hookup with Moray Firth Radio.

Now, please all stand up and join in a Hogmanay toast… “Should Auld Acquaintance be forgot… Then let’s all fling ourselves at 2008!

Christmas Letters

Over the years Christmas letters from family and friends contained news about newborns and eventually children’s success at school.

Later, the children graduated from university and then there were the wedding photos.

Then there was news of grandchildren. But in that time, we didn’t realise that, we too were participating in the ageing process.

We soon will have lived in California for 30 years.  Our memories of our friends are that they are just as they were when we left.

So I’m distressed to learn that those I care for, long-distance, are experiencing health problems, some age related but all unpleasant.

But it’s interesting to realise that in spite of all accidents requiring stitches and all other things medical, that the letters are upbeat and I appreciate the honesty in sharing the truth.  That’s true friendship.

We’re all on Life’s conveyor belt and if we think you are falling off, due to bad baggage handling, we’ll pull you back on.

Because I want your Christmas letter next year!

Golden Wedding Anniversaries

Several relatives and former Scottish neighbours have celebrated Golden Wedding Anniversaries this year.

I remember attending some of the weddings when I was wee.

I like to send a card of congratulations to mark the special day, but Golden Wedding cards are hard to find in this area.

I usually buy them from Papyrus in North Berkeley, but their selection is small.

I visited 2 other stationery stores, but their selection only went as far as 25^th wedding anniversaries. I suppose I could have bought 2 25^th anniversary cards and sent them!

Are long-lived marriages so rare these days that stationery stores think it’s not profitable to stock anniversary cards to send to couples who have been married 50 years?

Photo 1 is of my late Grandparents, John and Annie Cowie, who celebrated their Golden Wedding anniversary in 1965.

Photo 2 is of myself (on the left,) with cousin Edna, Granny, Granda, Mam and a family friend. This was in 1957 and the bride and groom recently celebrated their Golden Wedding Anniversary. I sent them a card.

Customs’ Duty Puzzle

Background to the question: as part of my personal clearing up after myself, I decided to offer my Dad’s war time (WWII) medals and certificates to the Buckie & District Fishing Heritage Museum.
The museum agreed to accept them.
On October 3 we took the package to the UPS store and arranged for expedited shipping.
The shipping costs, including the packaging and insurance were $99.91. This included tracking the package as it was scanned at each UPS depot.
We laughed at the notation that delivery was to a remote area. Buckie is not remote!
On October 10 UPS arrived in Buckie, with the package, plus a request for 20 pounds and 59 pence for freight charges.
Freight charges from where? We had already paid for door to door delivery.
I called UPS customer service. They say charges are from UK Custom services.
Why? The medals are of no commercial value and will not be resold. They were a donation.
Of course, I will be contacting UK customs & excise, but if anyone who reads this and who knows about current custom procedures, I’d appreciate information.
I’m going to bed humming, “The deil’s awa wi the exciseman.”

Clear up after Yourself

Mum died in January 2000 and Dad died in April 2002.
They had lived for the over fifty years that they been married in the same house that Dad grew up in. His parents had also lived with them, as was the way of traditional fishing families, so when I went back to Buckie to sell the house, I had to dispose of the possessions of several people.
Dad and his parents had lived in the house since 1924. They didn’t believe in disposing of anything! I even had to throw out a bottle of Milton (antiseptic) that had belonged to Granny and she had died in 1968.
How sad it was to arrive at the house and not have Dad there to welcome us. I wanted to say the house was empty but that was not so! Every surface was covered with stuff, even piles of the local newspaper that Dad used to save for me to read whenever I visited.
There was no time for reading, or even much reflection, on this, my last visit to the house.
I almost didn’t have a house to sell. The fifty year old gas fire in the kitchen had been shut off and a sign, “DANGER! DO NOT USE!” had been attached. The Estate Agent, who had visited the house earlier, noticed a strong smell of gas and called the gas company. In all it’s fifty years that fire had never been serviced!
I felt very guilty for living so far away, but knowing how stubbornly independent he was, I doubt he’d have let me help in anyway.
I remember, whenever I visited him, I’d say, “Let’s clear out a cupboard, make a start on living without so much clutter.” He would humour me, promise to take the bits and pieces to the charity shop, but everything we took out was back in the drawer on my next visit.
He could never face the task and cheerfully said that I’d come and do it for him, but only AFTER he’d gone! He chose to ignore the fact of my physical difficulty: I don’t drive, I can’t carry things downstairs while holding on to a hand rail, I can’t stand for too long and I have not been able to kneel down for over 20 years.
Richard came to help me, but he was chairing a conference a week later and we didn’t have the luxury of time to make choices of what do with other people’s memories and things that were special to them.
When I lived in Cambridge, England, I worked in the Archives Centre, of Churchill College. There were the private papers of Sir Winston Churchill, including his weekly laundry lists.
I teased Dad that the piles of papers covering the chairs would be equally worthy of archival attention.
But, while Sir Winston had secretaries to take care of his stuff, Dad only had me.
I had to throw away his life.

Christmases Past

Planning Christmas in California for P&M makes me think of the
Tong family Christmases we shared in the 1970s.
Richard and I and P&M, were relatively newlyweds, living in tiny apartments, with no room to host family Christmases.
One year Richard and I wanted to be on our own for the holiday. We were living in Cambridge (UK) where Richard was completing his Ph.D.
We wanted to experience a real Cambridge Christmas, with a carol service in King’s College chapel and walk on the frozen River Cam.
Besides, I wanted to cook a small Christmas dinner for just the 2 of us in our studio apartment.
I’ll always remember that cozy Christmas when we were happy newlyweds.
But we never repeated Christmas-by-ourselves until we came to US.
We had to endure the “in-law sulk,” which involved heavy sighs and “You will miss us when we are not here for you to come to at Christmas!”
But we all got over that and I do have fond memories of the in-law family Christmases.
MIL cooked and baked everything herself, spending hours in her tiny kitchen. FIL assisted by plying her and the rest of us with pre-lunch sherry.
One year he made exotic cocktails, which immediately sent SIL, M, to bed for the rest of the day.
There was no dining room in their small house so we crowded around the table in the small living room. There were never enough chairs, but we made do and perched on the arms of armchairs. We bumped elbows as we took fork and knife to the generous roast beef and sloshed gravy on the Yorkshire puddings.
We pulled the Christmas crackers, put on our paper crowns and groaned at the corny jokes that were in each cracker.
We could have been a family in a Mike Leigh movie.
Lunch was timed to end a few minutes before three o’clock so that we could always gather round the telly to watch the Queen. But as soon as her Majesty began to wish us a Merry Christmas, Uncle F declared he had to go home.
No, he wouldn’t wait for tea, he’d best be off before dark. Uncle F lived alone and had nothing to rush home for, but someone always had to abandon the Queen to drive him home.
I do miss him and the in-laws and we will toast them with sherry when P&M are here.
We have already promised that we will not serve exotic cocktails.

Christmas 2007

Christmas 2007 started for me at the end of March. My SIL, M, emailed to tell that her husband, P, (Richard’s brother) was going into hospital the following week for surgery to remove a massive growth in his colon.
Apparently this had been diagnosed the previous December, but they had chosen to keep the news to themselves, and for all those months, during our frequent phone calls, Richard and I had been chattering about the trivialities of our lives.
But, even although it had been their choice to keep their worry private, we felt guilty for not being there to help.
My instinct was to get on a plane and just go, but what on earth could I have done once I got there? I couldn’t even have dealt with airport security on my own and I’d need assistance at every stage.
I don’t drive and someone would have to meet me at Heathrow Airport and take me to Wales, where P and M live.
M would have to help me get upstairs and shower every day because their house is not arranged, as mine is, to meet my needs, with handrails, shower stool and is not within walking distance to anything useful.
I couldn’t drive her to the hospital to visit P and I’d just be THERE, more of a liability than help.
But what kind of help would I want if I were in a similar situation?
I know I wouldn’t enjoy having anyone around me, cooking for me and trying to learn the ways of my household. Richard travels frequently on business and I enjoy being left to my own eccentricities.
So I offered the kind of help that I’d appreciate myself and that I could give easily.
Regardless of the eight-hour time difference I was available for phone calls and listened through the anxious times.
When we knew the surgery had been successful and no further treatment would be required, we had to celebrate!
“Come for Christmas!”
The invitation was accepted and now I’m planning Christmas in California for P and M who have only celebrated the holiday in the traditional English way.