I think it’s maybe time for another newsletter….

 

Firstly I’d like to wish you all a very happy and peaceful 2003.

 

Having said that, I think now is an appropriate time to report our first piece of news. That Rebecca successfully achieved her new year’s resolution of 2002. That is, she wasn’t sick at all this year! Several times through 2002 when the dreaded lurgie hit the Hathaway household, I advised her that she wasn’t to regard it as a personal failing if indeed she was poorly. However, in pure Bec style, she was as determined as ever and went to great lengths to achieve her aim, at one point arranging to go to a friend’s house rather than home ‘to the sick house’.

 

The holidays seem such a long way away now, but we had a lovely summer and enjoyed many a good day out to the London Eye, the beach or Plumberow Mount (!).

 

We took mum and dad to the London Eye late last year. (Yes, I wrote a Newsletter in April but didn’t make reference to the London Eye in that one. And as I haven’t much to say today….) Before being allowed onto the Eye we had to pass through several Security checks. One security guard waving a light sabre was convinced that Carl had something in his rucksack and more than once rummaged through the bag. Carl who hadn’t packed the bag called to me up ahead whether he was carrying any weapons he should know about. How we laughed. Eventually and somewhat reluctantly, the security man gave up his search and allowed us onto the pod. Half way through the trip, and at the very top, Laura decided she wanted to get off. Not a wise thing to tell a mother who is afraid of heights and having to sit down. I thought it would be ok and of course it was, but I still had to make several contingency plans in my head in case of

a)     A breakdown of the wheel necessitating an air rescue;

b)    Sudden collapse of the wheel causing it to fall sideways into the Thames – if it had fallen the other way of course, we would all have died an immediate crushing death; or

c)     Terrorist attack.

 

It was at this point that I remembered the sharp knife that I had packed in the picnic bag to slice an apple for the girls!

 

Another Sunday Carl and I took the girls for a trip to the Science Museum. 5 floors of fascinating exhibits recording man’s history and invention, including many specialist exhibits for which you have to pay extra. One of these – the Grossology Exhibition was featured on Blue Peter in which the girls could follow the routes around the body, climb up scabby walls and slide down a nose like snot! Another area showed a film narrated by Robert Winston on a movie screen the size of five double decker buses! Fairly impressive by anyone’s standards, I think you’ll agree. We stopped briefly for refreshment but basically walked until our legs dropped off and we had to put them in a carrier bag to take home! At the end of the day, tired and exhausted, we asked the girls what their favourite part of the day had been. Charlotte’s reaction “ I really liked the Rolos,” was a trifle disappointing to say the least!

 

Over the summer, we had the dubious pleasure of having Nobby and Lightning on the patch of ground next door. Nobby and Lightning are horses belonging to the local scrap dealers. The brothers ‘tow’ the horses from the back of their wagon when they drop them off! It looks so funny. All the children know the horses, which although very scruffy and somewhat smelly, are extremely good-natured! They are also very well endowed, and it was a lovely sunny morning when Charlotte came in very pleased with herself, announcing that she knew Nobby was a boy! Here we go, I thought, more ‘willy’ talk! “I know Nobby’s a boy,” she said, “because he’s got a moustache!” I ask you!

 

More recently, Rebecca helped a stray dog. We had spotted him trotting up the road on our way home from school. Bec’s friend Melissa was with us, and by the time we had unloaded all children and clobber from the car, the dog who had a gammy leg, had arrived at our place. I encouraged the girls to leave him alone, which they didn’t, and even persuaded them to take some newspapers to our neighbour in a bid to separate them from the dog, which by now had been called ‘Stray’. Moments later the girls returned, gleeful that Stray had followed them to and from Beverley’s house. I left them to it and went inside.

 

Soon I became aware of more voices outside and I looked out to see a group of Greensward lads talking to the girls. And then, would you Adam and Eve it, who should turn up but my Dad. And he started talking about ringing kennels and I said I wouldn’t. Then the boys told me that the dog was called Harry and they wanted to take him into the woods. Well, I wasn’t born yesterday. Anyone could see that this dog was no Harry and I told them to go on their way, which they didn’t. And so I gave in, looked up the phone number of the Council and rang. They arranged with a kennel in Thundersley to come and pick up the dog but would I keep it in the mean time. And so we took Stray into the back garden and Bec and Melissa said they would look after him. And they did. Finding pieces of carpet for him to lie on, fetching milk and chocolate digestives for him to eat, and throwing tennis balls across the garden for him to stare at!

 

Eventually the lady from the kennels arrived and immediately assessed that Lucky, as he was now called, was a friendly dog, which is just as well under the circumstances. And so we saw Lucky to the van and the girls came inside to write a report which they read out to their class the next day at school. And that would have been that really: the girls having done a good deed.

 

But that evening Carl received a phone call from Lucky’s owner who asked if he could come round and thank the girls. And he did. The following evening, the gentleman and his partner came to the house. He explained that the dog had got out through a neighbours garden where some fence panels had been blown out. The dog was his inheritance and he so grateful to have him back he gave a bumper bag of sweets to Bec and Melissa. And a fiver each! He said the dog meant much more to him than ten pounds, and as he spoke the tears welled up in his eyes. Aaah…

 

School has been good for the older girls. Or, at least the older girls have been good at school. At the last open evening Rebecca’s teacher informed me that she ‘does have a personality’. I wasn’t sure what she told the other parents!

 

Both had new teachers in September. Rebecca’s teacher is a supply teacher and is good at Art. Charlotte’s teacher wears ‘quite long trousers, fitted tops and pointy shoes.’ Not only does Charlotte regularly report on Miss Linton’s clothes but occasionally sketches them as well. Both had such lovely reports that I offered to buy them something ‘for school’ as a prize. Rebecca requested a new lunch box or a flexi ruler. Charlotte said she needed new black high-heeled boots. Assertive as ever, I put my “foot down with a firm hand” (M. A. Box production of Sound of Music, 2000) and Rebecca and Charlotte got exactly what they wanted!! More embarrassing was Charlotte in the queue at the shoe shop clutching her boots, grinning – and Charlotte can GRIN - saying unashamedly, ‘my dream has come true’.

 

Raving nitwit are the words that spring to mind when I think of Charlotte. She loves making us laugh whether it is by dancing a cha cha cha with a pair of nail clippers, or by galloping through the house on her ‘trusty horse’. Much of course, is not deliberate. In the summer she had to look away from the jar on the window sill because the shoot growing from a runner bean was putting her off her food! She recently had a habit of thinking that she’d swallowed things that she’d lost. All sorts of things, but especially teeth and rings. Inevitably she hadn’t swallowed them and they would turn up somewhere or other, but that didn’t seem to curb her worry.

 

At this point, having thoroughly ridiculed my middle daughter who ‘people’ say is a lot like me (!), I am compelled to relate a sad tale of smugness and stupidity that happened to me this July. 

 

I had been suffering from a poorly mouth, and after several days of discomfort I made an appointment at the dentist for the following Tuesday. The dentist examined my mouth and asked me about the pain, which was, by that time much better. Ah, he said, looking into my mouth, the tooth at the top has been rubbing against the tooth at the bottom causing some discomfort. That can be easily sorted. And he told me how he could use a grinder to grind down the tooth at the top (several times, if necessary) to stop the rubbing. “Is it just this side?” he asked. “Yes,” I said. And after a good bout of grinding, during which he ground down the side of my poor poor mouth leaving it sore and dripping with blood, I was fit to leave!

 

‘The cost!’ I thought with horror as I left the waiting room.  Mum’s friends spend hundreds of pounds at the dentist, and I was a trifle concerned at the cost incurred by this visit. £1.84 said the child behind the counter. I questioned the amount as I didn’t want to look a fool! “£1.84” she said, “for some grinding?” “Yes,” I said, “I thought it would be more, that’s all.” And she advised me not to complain and I walked smugly from the dentist into the village. And whom should I meet, but the Church secretary. How’s your mouth? Guess how much it cost? It never costs less than twenty pounds. Chat chat chat. Smug smug smug. And then I got into the car and started home.

 

It was at this point that my tongue decided to brave the sore and bruised mouth and do a little investigative work. I remember thinking that it was strange my tongue wouldn’t reach the ground tooth, because of course it hadn’t left it alone the previous week when I had been in such pain! And then I realised what I’d done. I’d had the wrong side ground down! A perfectly good tooth had suffered at the hands of the very nice lunatic dentist! To make matters worse, I had an appointment the following week to check things out. By this time the summer holidays had begun and I had the girls with me. As we walked into the reception, Bec said ‘Mummy you had the wrong tooth ground, didn’t you?’ and I looked at her fiercely and said ‘Don’t you dare mention that again in here!” And she didn’t. And the dentist asked me how I was getting on. And I said it was much better!! And was there anything else he could do for me? And I said No, thank you very much. And that was that.  Oh the shame!

 

And then there was the trolley incident in Somerfields. Having walked around collecting my shopping, I reached up for some food colouring on the top shelf. As I walked back to my trolley I was aware of a man watching me. ‘Yeah?’ I thought! ‘What you want?’ As I walked off his eyes followed me! I was fuming, until he said, “Excuse me! I think you’ve got my trolley!” And as I looked into the trolley full of someone else’s food, I did feel a fool!

 

Bec made a small faux pas recently when she thought her teacher’s name was Mania Mitchell. An inquisitive soul, she had read a hand written note addressed to Mrs. Mitchell, which was lying on her desk. When she came home she asked if ‘Mania’ was a name. I said no, but it is a word meaning mad or crazy, as in maniac. “Oh,” said Bec, “I asked Mrs. Mitchell if her name was Mania, and Mrs. Mitchell said ‘No, Rebecca.’ ” And she paused and then said “I’ve made a complete fool of myself, haven’t I?”  Rebecca likes to ask so many questions…Poor Mr. Orrock, last year was forced to justify every item of food in his lunch box.

 

What with that, and dramatically announcing that she needs ‘Cosmic surgery’ …

 

Laura’s speech still leaves a little to be desired. She’s still quite economical with her use of letters especially at the beginning of words. This was highlighted quite recently on a visit to our new church down the road. Obviously, Laura is new to the group at Hawkwell Baptist Church, but it still made laugh when she proudly emerged from the Sparklers room with a Christmas card addressed to Mummy, Daddy, Rebecca and Isaac. Love from Lauren. In true Laura style though, (stubborn as a mule and ever so slightly obsessive ) she hasn’t let me tell the lady who takes Sparklers that her name is Laura. And as she is happy to go into the group on her own I haven’t interfered.

 

Those astute readers amongst you i.e. those who haven’t actually nodded off, will have noted the phrase ‘ our new Church’ in the last paragraph. Sadly, Mum, Sue, Linds. and myself have left our Church in Hockley (yes, the one we were Christened, confirmed, married and had our own children Christened in) and have been worshipping elsewhere. We’ve been doing the rounds over the Christmas period, but I think myself and the girls will almost certainly continue to attend the Hawkwell Baptist Church http://www.hawkwellbaptistchurch.co.uk/  at the end of Rectory Avenue. Recently rebuilt due to asbestos in the walls, the Church building itself is smashing and the people have been friendly and welcoming from the word go! The minister, Carl, plays the trumpet during Sunday service and on Christmas Day proudly showed off his favourite Christmas present, a video driving game which he loaded on to the overhead projector system and proceeded to demonstrate during the service! Can you believe it? When he crashed as he did a couple of times, the congregation made ‘Ooooo’ and ‘Aaaahh’ noises! More scarily, a week previous a car registration had appeared on the screen asking the owner to move their car immediately! How embarrassing. I looked around to see if I could spot anyone going red but either they had already left or they were made of sterner stuff than me!

 

Mind you, this doesn’t beat Laura’s Nipple fondling incident at the Christmas Eve service of Nine Lessons and Carols. Our friends Lucy and Richard had visited and left at 6 o’clock. I decided that I would like to attend this service as I would only be five minutes late. Of course, all three girls wanted to come and so we made ‘an entrance’ into a packed Church ten minutes late, arriving during the first reading. Laura wasn’t at all bothered that they’d started, but was concerned that her trousers should be lying correctly over her boots, her sleeveless vest was ok and her new hairband just right. Much hushed discussion and shuffling about – I had incorrectly assumed that there were three spare seats in the middle of a row, not realising that one of these spaces was not a seat, but in fact a bin - very amusing, especially to the likes of Charlotte – we half settled down.  It was then that I spotted Sue across the aisle, childless (shocking!), sitting next to a spare seat! I saw my chance and took it, whispering to Laura, ‘Look! There’s Auntie Sue over there!’ It worked! More hushed discussion and shuffling and she was gone! She sat nicely throughout the service although towards the end I did notice that she was sitting rather too contentedly on Sue’s lap, with her vest slowly riding up under her arm pits. Moments later, and her eyes were shutting as (horror of horrors) she began fondling her nipples! Round and round, eyes slowly closing. I wondered how many others had noticed!

 

Laura is four on Saturday and has grown up a fair bit over the last year (I can hear Sue laughing). She has achieved her first swimming award for swimming ‘5 metres with a buoyancy aid’! Her taste in music is varied, from Atomic Kitten to Eminem. On Christmas Eve we were walking back to mum’s from a visit to the park when suddenly she whacked me. I looked down to see why she had become so violent and she looked up and said “I’m ‘orry Mumma. I didn’t mean to hurt you-ou. I didn’t make you cry….”

 

Carl

Carl is still working at BT and visiting the gym several times a week. It is of course footy time of year and we’ve had to endure the thrill of the FA cup draw. Like the famous Slough Town v Harrogate Railway match. Although winning this one, the ‘Railway boys’ as you probably know, got knocked out in the next round!

 

Of course, Carl is by far superior to anyone in this house in every possible way. And as is so often the case in these circumstances small things done by us menials infuriate him. Like the opening of cereal packets. Many a time he has asked me to show the girls the correct way to open a cereal box. You can imagine my reaction. You can only begin to imagine my thoughts when I came downstairs to breakfast one day to find him sellotaping a cereal packet because in his very cross words “It is all cracked and broken.” Unbelievable.

 

But then he is, of course married to, in his words, asad case.’

This slur upon my personality arose because of a programme Carl was watching about Karl Marx on BBC Four. I really did try and concentrate but it was SO bloody boring I just couldn’t stand it! My ignorance obviously caused some irritation, and Carl responded the only way he knows how – by calling me a ‘sad case.’ I asked him to justify his comment to which he replied “you’ve never eaten a scab, or chewed the dead skin on your feet.” If indeed, this is the criterion for a ‘sad case’ then, alas, I am guilty!

 

The Infallible One did prove his humanity the other week when ordering our Christmas fayre from Tesco. On arriving at the house it was noted that the 8 loose mushrooms that Carl believed he had ordered were ‘not available’ and no substitutions had been made. Carl therefore signed the form and we began to unpack. On closer inspection it became apparent that only 2 parts of the order were unavailable, but the other 6 packs of 500 grams were in stock. So that we received 6 kg of mushrooms instead of the 8kg we ordered!!

 

On a purely practical note, the study floor (hopefully) is sinking, (rather than the whole house, that is!) The house is still under guarantee and the man from HSBC is coming round for a cuppa in January.

 

Judith Mary

In some respects 2002 for me, has been a ‘rollercoaster year.’  On the down side, the business with the Church has been sad and at times all-consuming. And then there have been personal problems which have also taken their toll. However, like the Queen (!) my faith is strong and there have been extremely good times this year as well for which I am thankful.

Here are some of the most enjoyable bits from 2002:

 

Jeanine and Andrews’ wedding in April. Like Gavin and Pings’ wedding last year, we were able to spend time with family, making wedding arrangements and spending other people’s money!

 

Ioan Grufford (as Hornblower), Hugh Dancy and The Office on BBC2.

 

The friends from schools (Primary and Secondary), college and university who I have met up with (either literally, or by email) in 2002. It has been immensely re-assuring to find one’s friends as mad, unfunny, intolerant, annoying, inebriated and irresponsible as ever! (You can work out which one(s) you are!)

 

My new gel filled bra in which I exude confidence.

 

Bunda Evans

I have a new friend, Bunda, in prison in Zambia who (along with his family) has experienced troubles that most of us will thankfully never dream of. His friendship has been a blessing and his faith unshakeable. Hopefully, 2003 will prove to be a much more positive year for Bunda and his family.

 

In my new gel filled bra armed with my ‘What Not To Wear’ book I would like to wish you all God’s blessing in 2003.

 

Ever the ‘sad case’

 

Judith Mary Hathaway

X

 

P.S. Carl has just asked whether I am nearly finished on the PC as he wants to email KP nuts! He told me that he found a small orange plastic frog in his peanuts this evening and he was going to write and complain. Spookily I spotted the girls earlier with a small plastic orange frog! Hmmmm………