A bit of a break

We have had a really lovely couple of days away. We enjoyed the drive ‘oop North’; the house we stayed in; the weather; the seaside, the exhibition we went to see and a trip down Memory Lane.

Our destination was Withernsea and the Lighthouse Museum. It’s a town I recall from my childhood, even if I didn’t actually recognise it once we got there.

We spent Wednesday morning travelling, the afternoon having a wander in the town, before we making our way to the Lighthouse and the exhibition.

The journey was smooth up to Yorkshire, and there were no hold-ups, so we made good time. My plan was to have a picnic on the front but, true to form, my food delight was John’s food horror, so we compromised and went to a café instead. It was well set-up with booths outside, so we sat cosy and ate an illicit burger and chips (John) and a jacket potato with cheesy beans (me). Delicious and thoroughly enjoyable.

After we’d eaten, we took a walk along the front and made our way to the Lighthouse. It was a nice walk, and we inspected a fair few garden walls, lamp-posts and shop doorways for their suitability as leaning posts along the way.

On arrival, we went straight through to the exhibition, which was brilliant. What an inspiration. Dean Wilson’s ‘Pebble of the Day’ transformed into a stunning quilt by Karen Turner, and delicate pieces of pottery, ‘you’re not a pebble, but I like you’ transformed into beautiful works of art. Loved it.

I reserved one of the embroidered pieces of the pottery for delivery once the exhibition ends, too. How exciting is that??? I can’t wait to get my hot, sticky mitts on it and see it framed on my wall.

After we’d savoured the exhibition enough we found a seat in the garden and had a cup of coffee and cake. We would have had a cream tea, too, but they were all out of those, having served a large party of little old ladies with their last ones before we got there. How disappointing – a trip away and no cream tea.

Our next stop was our AirBnB house – easily found and easily accessed. John took the opportunity for a lie-down after his exertions round town, while I went for a walk along the Prom. I took the opportunity while the sun was shining so beautifully to wander onto the beach and have myself a paddle as well – what a surprise. Always a sea-side pleasure.

John was still asleep when I got back, so I sat in the garden with a glass of white wine. After a while, I thought I’d better check on the ol’ man and he was just up, laughing at himself because he hadn’t been sure what time of day it was when he woke up. Was it tomorrow already, he wondered?

It wasn’t, of course, so we sat and watched a bit of TV in the evening and then settled for an early night.

On Friday morning, John was up early making us both a cup of tea, before we both snuck back into bed for another snooze.

It wasn’t long though, before I felt the call of the sea. John was still inspecting the back of his eyelids, so I took a walk along the South Promenade into town, then the North Promenade, before doubling back through the centre of town and on to Tesco to buy breakfast. It was wonderful. The sun was shining, it was warm and there was lots to see and enjoy.

Back at the house, John was up and had already breakfasted, but didn’t say ‘no’ to a cheeky croissant. I sat out in the garden, aiming to ‘butterfly watch’. I only saw three white ones in the allotted 15 minutes – and they might have all been the same one at different times. No idea. Logged them anyway.

Soon it was time to leave but before we left ‘God’s own County’, we decided to go into Hull to check out the house we Chapmans had lived in until I was six. Just for a little trip down memory lane.

Naturally, the house had changed, with new windows and a new front door. The front garden was now a drive for parking the owner’s car. But other than that…..I can’t say I really remembered the house as it used to be.

We took a walk along a path at the end of the road that I thought Graham and I had walked along as children to a sawmill. But he doesn’t remember that so maybe I’m mistaken. However, the path was still there, but the fields weren’t. It was a housing estate.

Finally, we drove to North Ferriby where I was born. Well, that was a surprise. I don’t know what I expected, but certainly not posh – which it very much was. The Nursing Home was still there, and all around were some very nice houses indeed.

So here we are today. A little potter around the house doing jobs this morning, then a hospital visit this afternoon. Yes, on a Saturday! A CT scan at the QE this time.

We thought maybe the Sutton Sleaths might visit for a barbecue this afternoon, but in the end, we all trundled over to Kenilworth. Christiana is up from London (well, Surbiton, anyway) and staying overnight so it was a brilliant opportunity to see her.

We had a great time there – the children were having a whale of a time playing together and the adults were having fun, too. The best time was had by the dogs, though, who hoovered up anything that had been dropped food-wise. And, of course, the children unwittingly obliged. Freddie lost two sausages from his hotdog that way, bless him.

There was a slight mar on proceedings from my point of view though, as I had a slight accident. Pulling the heavy gate closed, I caught the back of my ankle under it and managed to create a massive bruise. Had to sit with my foot up, ice-packed, for most of the evening and couldn’t quite fancy anything to eat and drink after that. John had to drive home…. ah, well. That’ll keep me pinned down for a while!

More of the same on the COVID front, with many people wondering if the government is going to change its mind about opening up next week, and Boris and Sajid Javid saying, no, no, it’s all fine, nothing to see here…. except the Health Secretary has succumbed to COVID himself today.

For a second consecutive day the daily infection rate is over 50k – 54,674 people having tested positive for the virus; 41 people having died in the community and, on 13 July, 740 people having been admitted to hospital with the dreaded lurgy. It’s not getting much better, is it, folks? Is this what they mean about ‘living with COVID’? What a disaster.

I’m saying prayers for all those affected by the virus in whatever way they may be, as well as all those who are suffering hardship today – especially all those who have been traumatised by the floods in Germany and Belgium. ‘Let’s use less plastic’ was the slogan we saw on our journey to and from Birmingham today. Well, it’d be a start, wouldn’t it? But is it too late?

Take care everyone. God bless.