Iron Ladies

Mother's Day March 15th 2015 and my phone is buzzing with loving messages from my own offspring as I prepare a special Sunday Lunch with our Mums. Mother's Day lunch is an M&S feast of roast beef and sticky toffee pudding followed by the giving of gifts of framed photos of their families

Then we clambered on board the Honda and set off on another mystery tour. The weather was not even 'nice under glass' as gloom and cloud threatened rain, but despite this, the Mum & Peggy's conversation was in full flood. Peggy's about the latest happenings in Corrie and a convoluted explanation about complications with the collection of one of her umpteen prescriptions: Mum's about her TV telling her there was no signal, her shifts as a volunteer at Erddig Hall and how she has ordered more ready meals on the phone. Both of them chatting away quite happily on different planes….



Mum & Peggy enjoying their 'I never knew this was here!'
surprise outing....

As a treat for this special day our destination was a real gem - The British Ironworks Centre, Oswestry. I am sure that people pass this on their way to somewhere else (as it is on the very busy A5 leading to Shrewsbury and all routes south) and idly think that they will visit it someday, but never get around to it. Also they might think ‘Why would I want to visit an ironwork centre?’

But the first time you motor up the sweeping drive you are awed by the wings of massive iron eagles. Looking to your left you glimpse life sized metal animals of every description in the meadow and gazelles leaping over the fence. It is just wonderful and it is all free!

The centre provides metal work for home and garden and you can find unusual statues, benches, gazebos should you wish to buy. There is also a great showroom where you can buy anything from life sized figures to numbers for your garden gate - if it made if metal this is where you will find it. There is also a quirky little tea shop. Add to this specialist displays from onsite artists and a blacksmith and you have a very special way of losing a few hours.

Joy in the simple things.. a good cup of tea at
The British Ironworks café

I hope you will forgive the rather contrived title to today’s blog, but seeing the resilience of some of the figures sitting outside the Ironwork Centre I am reminded of them and I think it is somehow appropriate to describe my Mum & Peggy as Iron Ladies. They have lived through a war and often tell me how hard it was literally living with death and destruction and the very real fear that Hitler may be in charge very soon. The small daily hardships such as rationing which went on for many years after the war – how bananas and nylons were a luxury and a teaspoon of butter was your week’s ration. Peggy and Mum both agreed that the blackout was terrifying as you had to stumble your way through the dark if you were out at night.

They are now are waging their own battles with the challenges of aging, the loss of friends, the horrible ways that their bodies let them down, facing up to their twilight years. But spending an afternoon with them is not a gloomy experience, they face up to their lives with the fortitude and resilience they built up over those difficult years. They laugh as they realise how others see them old and decrepit – although they don’t feel it. They take joy in small things, cups of tea, a decent night on the telly and an afternoon out in good company – perhaps we should learn from them.

Abakhan & Peggy's Extraordinary Recall

This Sunday we set off for the Deeside Estuary to find a place which has a huge reputation amongst anyone who knits, sews or does any sort of crafting. In a former life, I was very involved in the Operation Christmas Child shoebox appeal and many of the volunteers who made goods for the shoeboxes loved this place and visited from all over the UK.

The Abakhan fabrics, hobbies and craft centre is the attraction of many coach parties and visitors from all the over the UK. It was started by the Abakhan family over thirty years ago and I remember it in my teens as a place where dressmakers flocked to as it sells some of its fabric by weight not length.

As well as a successful 'hobbyist' retail outlet it is also a site of considerable local historic interest, the company has taken great care to preserve the buildings resulting in the presentation of an award by children’s play area was added. With tea at £1.40 a cup it was a pleasing destination for us despite it being some years since my elderly companions have picked up a knitting needle.

It has to be said that the site – not too far from Saint Winifred’s Well (the fascinating story of which is for another post another time) is in a rather unlovely part of the coast, but I can’t help but admire the area’s determination to succeed. There is the Greenfield Heritage site, a regular Sunday Market and lots more on offer, despite the broken down buildings and the ugly hulk which has had so many set-backs that is ‘Fun Ship’ at Mostyn.

The drive home towards Chester is enlivened by the beauty of the estuary and the way that it has so

The Dee Estuary viewed from the A55 homewards
towards Chester

many colours embedded in its environs. Our conversation drifts and Peggy tells us about the happening in the lives of people she know and who she met that week.

I do greatly admire Peggy’s constant ability to remember people and their family connections. The other day she was sitting on a bus next to a middle-aged chap and passed the time of day. Then she said to him, “Are you Edna’s son?” and he looked at her in surprise and said that he was. Edna was someone she had known long ago and had actually recognised him as this woman’s son from over 50 years ago.

Sadly, apart from being a good way to make a bus journey go quickly, Peggy's talents go largely unnoticed and underused. She would have made a fantastic networker in today’s world and how she would have loved and taken advantage of LinkedIn, Friends Re-united and Face Book. But mostly we tend to ignore this tremendous flair she has for remembering all the people she has met in her life.

My husband, who has a very poor memory for faces and people, is always at a loss when she asks him if he remembers Rosemary who was in Primary School with him. Or tells us that the driver of the bus which took his brother Dave down to meet his cruise at Southampton was the nephew of Alan who used to be in school with him…..

Peggy, who seemingly remembers the
name of every person she has ever
met

Perhaps some of these connections will always remain buried only to be revived by people like Peggy who have no real way of recording them. Perhaps you suspect, as I do, the internet and digital media will somehow lose and swallow up our blogs and precious photographs.

Last week however, I saw a really good idea which goes a small way to solve the problem of lost family memories. Family Legacy Cards* are a way of encouraging people to write down their memories, family stories and history. They are printed on long-lasting - printed on special paper with a minimum longevity of 200 years. The cards have different themes and thought provoking front covers, intended to rouse different memories. Christmas sorted!

My lasting thought is that it is sad that are not more people like Peggy in the world as we may pass people in the street to whom we might have an interesting connection or to whom we are related and never even know about. I resolve to talk to people a bit more and stop being so insular, you never know I might discover a connection.....

 

*Disclaimer Disclosure: I have not been given any free goods to recommend this product nor have I any connection to the company.

The Case of the Disappearing Grandmas

Viewing the entire process of ageing is almost impossible. We see our children grow up and we watch our parents age, but rarely do we see an entire life span, as we inevitably die ourselves and (hopefully) never have to see our children's lives end.

I believe that ageing speeds up and slows down throughout our lives. The first 5 years of a life sees huge changes as the child's bones in the skull re-arrange themselves after birth and the child learns to walk and gain posture. The following years are often characterised by the child having to listen to the phrase 'hasn't he grown?' many times as they shoot up and out in all directions. As they approach adolescence their faces lose that baby cuteness and the change can sometimes be startling.

But past 20 and through to 40 the changes are fewer and far more subtle. I am often quite at a loss to guess the age of someone in that age bracket. Of course, we are getting very good at hiding the classic signs such as grey hair and wrinkles so I like to think that we look almost the same until we reach our mid 50s. Depressingly, I read that the age I am now-57-is the age at which it all starts to happen. But I still feel 20!

Similarly, I think that once the greying and wrinkling process has finished and a person has given up using the hair dye and the Botox, then it is very difficult to tell the difference between a 75 year old and a 90 year old.

Mum and her Danish son-in-law Steen
in April 2013

I look at photos of Peggy and Mum over the past few years and yes, there are changes, but they still look 75. Apart from one thing.... they are shrinking.

Mum's posture has always been pretty good and only recently has she developed the widows hump so characteristic of old age. She is also very much shorter and thinner. Peggy, who has always been a healthy weight, also says that she is losing weight. They both eat well and are healthy in most respects, but are diminishing before our eyes. I am only 5 feet tall, but I feel as though I am towering over my little Mum and as I am her child it feels wrong somehow....

They were discussing how difficult it was to get their skirts to stay on now that their waists are smaller. Action needed to be taken to prevent an embarrassing 'skirt round the ankles' scenario. So turning a negative into a positive, I decided this was the perfect opportunity to make a Nice Under Glass trip to M&S in Ellesmere Port to buy clothes that fitted - sorted.

They both agreed to this trip .... as one thing they have in common is that they believe that 'letting yourself go' is a slippery slope down to dementia which should be avoided at all costs. So complementary scarves are applied to outfits, lipsticks to their faces and regular hairdresser's appointments are kept. Their bodies may be getting smaller, but their pride and determination is as big as ever.

 

 

  

The Real 'Problem of Ageing'

I read an article (in the Guardian no less) called 'Embrace Your Years' Having spent a slightly

Slightly confused about our antics....

 extended time with my Mum over the Christmas season and come back from a trip to town with both of the old ladies, I was interested in what it had to say, as I feel that aging is one of the most challenging and sometimes frightening thing that most of us have to face. Indeed, said the blurb at the beginning of the article, 'Society has a deep fear of ageing'.

But I was disappointed. It went on to tell us that a study of 2,000 women worried about 'the signs of ageing' by 29 and that such 'fears' are commonly expressed by younger women than this. Adolescence using Botox, skin products and general hysteria all about those wrinkles. Eh? Wrinkles? Looking older? That, I feel, is the absolute last of your worries when you face advancing years.

Mum is (as she is never shy to tell us) 92. She lives alone, drives and does regular voluntary work, she reads - historical novels being her favourite- keeps up with the news and generally does all she can to stave off senility. A complete expert on the local National Trust property she still does tours and presents well. She long ago gave up fancy face creams or make up, (but incidentally looks at least 10 years younger than her age-but then after 80 who cares?). But she knows her memory is going. The frustration and fury in her when she misplaces yet another letter, forgets cancelling an


Mum (far right) is 92 but looks 80

appointment or loses her keys is so difficult to comfort.

At family parties over the Christmas season, she is of course the star, but she is on her own in her generation. She does not understand most of what we talk about - does not understand that in this new internet age we have access to any piece of information at our fingertips and stubbornly goes to the library to find out things. It is sometimes difficult, in the drunken and merry state we are in. There is a temptation to not take her seriously or listen properly to what she has to say. I believe she has long ago lost the ability to engage properly in conversations or understand what we are trying to tell her. She is in short, out on a limb at such get-togethers. But she bravely sits it out and goes around talking to everyone - still loving to be the centre of attention.

It was wonderful for her to have the entire extended family of 20 around - all  of her children alive and well with their various offspring to great grandchild level. But sadly, much of this is fading from her memory already and despite our plethora of smart phones, digital cameras and iPads we failed to take a proper photograph to help her remember.

My point about all this is that it seems that the word 'ageing' is most often referred to in the media in relation to looking good, keeping wrinkles away and keeping fit..... I think this is all a side issue to the real every day challenges and problems of being over 70. When (if) you reach my Mum's age, you will look back and thank the day that all you had to worry about was the odd grey hair, a few droopy bits around your jowls and a birthday suit in need of ironing.