Green and Yellow

It’s been an interesting few days. Last week, when the weather was still just about OK, my friend Liz and I went down to the Washington Wildfowl Park, part of the Wildfowl and Wetlands trust. I’m ashamed to say that in sixteen years of living in the North East, I’d never been before – and what a treat I’ve been missing. We were able to walk for quite a way, right around the park: starting with the flamingoes, moving on to the feeding area – ever had a duck literally eating out of your hand? I did, amazingly: these birds were really tame and trusting, and we fed them corn which we’d bought at the entrance. Apparently bread isn’t good for birds – think of that next time you go to feed the ducks! There were also some very pretty geese there, smallish white ones (Ross’s Goose and another we couldn’t identify). Then on through the wetlands, stopping at a hide at one point where we saw all the common woodland birds – blue tits, great tits, coal tits, chaffinches, bullfinches, greenfinches and a lovely lesser spotted woodpecker, as well as a predator squirrel getting at the nuts put out for the birds. (Grey squirrel, alas: we have seen red ones in similar circumstances, but they are getting fewer by the year.) Further on we saw half a dozen herons, one flying in the lovely lazy wingflapping way they do. Then back to the centre for tea and the indulgence of chocolate fudge cake (we were good and shared a slice between us, but it was pretty big to start with!). I had such a good time I decided to take up their offer of 20% off a year’s subscription, and joined on the spot. Now I can go back at any time for nothing, and take a friend at a discounted cost – and I think I’ll be doing that quite a bit, it’s only half an hour away in the car.

I had a fairly quiet bank holiday: I’d decided to accept an invitation from the chair of the local Lib Dems (I’m a card-carrying party member, have been for years) to a wine and cheese afternoon. In view of the wine, I went on the Metro, taking a bottle as requested and a jar of my home made marmalade as a small raffle prize. I’d arrived well after the start time, but it hadn't really got going: but more and more people arrived, mostly knowing each other, and I enjoyed some interesting chat with several people. As I was about to go, Colin, the host, asked me if I would do them a big favour. Apparently there’s a bye-election for a councillor in the ward in which I live, at the end of next month, and they wanted a ‘paper candidate’, that is a name to go on the ballot paper so that people who want to vote Lib Dem can do so, though they don’t expect to get many votes and aren’t doing any canvassing or leafletting. I agreed I would be such a name; and then it turns out I need to find a proposer, a seconder and eight other nominators. The first person I asked, a local Quaker friend, said he didn’t actually support the Lib Dems and didn’t feel he could put his name to my candidature. I was, I have to confess, a little disappointed: I don’t think party lines should be held too strongly in local council elections and for myself, a candidate I know and trust to be sensible would always be preferable to an anonymous figure with the ‘right’ party label. But people are different, and that’s the way my friend was. However, my near-neighbours whom I’d recently had to dinner (see the previous posting) were more than willing, and they became my proposer and seconder. Colin returned a day later and said they’d find the other nominators from amongst the party faithful. So now I’m a candidate for the District Council! I don’t think there’s the slightest chance I’ll get in: but it makes me wonder whether it’s worth spending time between now and next May doing some constituency-nursing, some door-stepping to get known and become a face with which people are familiar so that come next May I’ll not be an unknown quantity. This all assumes I’m going to stay here, which isn’t yet decided and won’t be till after Christmas, but it’s a thought… and here was I trying to slow down! However, I met three councillors or ex-councillors, and none of them struck me as having any special knowledge or expertise: just plain, sensible people using their common sense. So maybe I could do as well as any and better than some… and put Green policies forward in a place where they might even be heard! Next stop the House of Commons?

Riches on two legs

It’s been a bit of a frustrating year, financially. I’m owed a good deal of money by HM Government, but it’s been a difficult job actually prising it out of them, and I’m not there yet. But this month has been full of riches of another kind. Last weekend I had a family to stay: the mother I know from sitting on a committee with her, but the rest I’d not met – Dad, looking rather like Terry Pratchett and a most delightful, peaceful man, and the two adopted children, both now in their 20’s and both with Down’s syndrome – and a nicer pair would be hard to find. Michaela (not her real name, I wouldn’t want to embarrass her!) was a real sweetie, and we got on like a house on fire: and Alan (ditto), more seriously affected but nevertheless a young man who was enjoyable to be with. They were all stopping over while they went to a wedding up in Northumberland.

It wasn’t a long visit; they arrived for lunch (salad) on the day of the wedding, an hour later than scheduled because of holiday traffic, changed and went off to the wedding, and came home at 11 pm having all had a great time. The next day we all trooped off to the Quaker Meeting and on the way home, in spite of drizzle, walked over the Millenium Bridge and had a quick look round the Sage, the wonderful pair of concert halls in Gateshead, before coming home to lunch (salad again) and then departing for a further visit to friends of theirs down in Teesdale. They were very appreciative of the quick look at the delights of Newcastle, and I’m hoping that one day before too long they’ll all come again and we’ll be able to do more sightseeing and get out into the glorious country I have on the doorstep.

And then later in the week I had a friend visit, by arrangement, to tell me about putting on a one-woman show which she’s doing later this year. I’m hoping to write this up for a magazine article, to promote both my writing and her show. When you talk about this kind of thing, you necessarily get into quite deep matters: I needed to know how she’d got into theatre in the first place, which in turn meant something of the story of her life. Then that same evening, I had near neighbours round for a meal: I’d run into D. on the metro platform as I was coming home (a sliver of ‘green’ there, no car to town for me!) and put into action a thought I’d had for some time to ask them round. It was a fascinating evening: they had spent some time living in Ethiopia, at the time of the revolution, and had some amazing tales to tell.

Then today I heard that the people who had been going to come last Monday and hadn’t been able to because their son had flu were going to call in on their way home, next Friday. They’ve been cat-sitting, and when my friend told me the name of the person for whom they were sitting I realised I knew her and had worked on a committee with her this last year! So it's going to be lovely to see all this family too.

All this activity has made me reflect that although money has been a bit in short supply, riches have not: my riches walk around on two legs. The only thing of which I’m constantly aware is that so often, green choices cost more and I’ve just not been able to afford to be green. Sometimes this is more in cash, sometimes it’s more in time: I have to go to Brussels next month, and to go on Eurostar would take me the best part of three days, whereas I can fly over in the morning and back in the evening. There’s a dilemma: but I think the answer is going to be to take the plane (it will, after all, go anyway). One of these days we’ll get our through trains from Newcastle to Brussels: but too late for me!

Ups and Downs

I’ve just come back from seeing my Dad in Stratford upon Avon. He’d been coping well with the death of my Mum: indeed I’ve said earlier that he had something of a new lease of life, watching TV and being able to live his life, within his physical limitations, more as he wanted to. But this time he seemed to me to be a little in decline: his speech was quiet and throaty and he didn’t have the lucidity that he’d had for most of my previous visit.

We did manage to get a lot of business done. I’m still writing lots of letters to people where he had investments jointly with Mum, sending out a copy of the death certificate which is becoming a tad dog-eared by now, getting people to reply to me as I’m doing most of his finances now. It was, I think, a mistake to present him with six letters at once to sign: he read them for about an hour, with an uncomprehending look on his face, and in the end it was his lunchtime and he still hadn’t signed any of them. He wouldn’t let me read them to him and explain them: next time I think I’ll do that anyway, and one letter at a time. But eventually, after lunch, he did sign them all and I was able to get them in the post.

I felt slightly guilty that the visit was also a good social time for me. On the first afternoon, I met a friend for coffee: she had just had a lovely baby boy, four weeks old, and it was a real joy to meet them both. She was telling me all about the problems she and her husband had been facing and how they were coping – or not: they are going to be cat-sitting in Scotland later this month and will stay the night with me en route, which will be lovely. She and I just never seem to run out of things to talk about: she’s one of those people whom it’s great to have as a friend.

And then the next evening I was out to dinner, with Quaker friends in Birmingham. I did my green bit by going by train: the last train home to Stratford itself is at a ridiculously early hour, about 8 if I remember rightly, so I drove to Warwick Parkway and went up the excellent Chiltern line from there – no problem with last trains, the last is 11.23 pm! Good and cheap – but why don’t they encourage the use of their evening trains by making parking free, or at least reduced, at their stations? I had to pay for a full day’s parking even though I was on the 6.32 pm train, and that’s hardly an encouragement to use public transport and not drive all the way. If there had been two of us I’d have certainly driven, as it would have been both cheaper and quicker and less constrained by train times: for one, thankfully, it’s still cheaper and easier by train. But come on, train companies: do your bit! Make the parking free after 6 pm and watch your revenue rise.

It was a lovely dinner: my friend Marlene (one of three friends I have with that name!) had done a tasty mixed starter with prawns, coleslaw and crudités and then chicken in a wonderful creamy sauce, followed by an assortment of fresh soft fruit – raspberries, strawberries, blackberries, grapes and mandarin segments – with cream and ice cream. I went home full to bursting – a definite overeat. One of these days, soon, I’ll start dieting seriously, but as I write I’m aware of having had a cooked breakfast – bacon, egg, black pudding, mushrooms and tomato on toast – and now eating a starter – whitebait – before my main veggie course of Creamy Leek Croustade, as featured in the Cranks recipe book. Tasty, but not the way to reduce a very bulging stomach. I might even contemplate joining a gym, and seeing if I can’t really get this tum down and my fitness up. Then I could walk even more.. green or what!