No snowman

Today is another snow day, which means the kids are home, Larry is home, all work appointments cancelled (he's been home since the 19th!) I now have five days off from today (the Museum never closes) and l'm dying to be home alone. Christmas is over, I know because I cut the cotton, weaved the fabric, cut the cloth and MADE the frigging tee shirt. So all right already. It's over. Gone. Done. Drunk. Shovelled. Eaten our body weight in cake and pies. Happied & Merried myself to death. Yes, even after my post about loneliness I need to be alone now. I won't be lonely. I won't be sad. Just alone. One day please. Pretty please.

Last night water started gushing out through the back of the boiler shortly after l heard it emit a slow texan whine. We turned it off and contacted British gas. We joined the queue of people waiting and waiting in a not very patient, stiff and starchy British way, for a service engineer, our slot is booked for tomorrow. With modern insulation, the house has maintained it warmth over night. As it had been switched to constant for three days and like most people in this country after a rare 2 weeks of snow it too has been beaten into submission. Schools are closed. Shops shut. Motorways decorated with empty cars and lorries. And boilers fut! Don't even get me started on the issue of GRIT!

The house is now freezing. Outside it is an ice rink again. More snow is forecast. I haven't seen the grass here since Matewala, (sorry old family joke) which means forever!

In the late 60's I lived in Pointe Claire, Montreal, Quebec and boy did we experience real winters. BUT we were prepared! Chains on the tyres, roads ploughed. We still got to school daily. People got to work, by car, train bus. Life did not stop as we knew it. I do remember our fish froze in their bowl though! The frozen St. Lawrence river had car races on it. Or was that a dream? We walked the sidewalks with snow piled up high to our heads either side. We fell about into its soft drifts. All sounds dampened by the deep snow. You knew where you were in Canada, with the weather. In fact in most things. The brave and the free. I recall it all fondly. Hot summer, a week or four of Autumn, then winter bit. Spring lasted but a short while then into heady summers. Loved it. Really! I experienced the same thing in upstate New York. Life just cracked onwards.

Earlier l was on the phone complaining I was cold and would be better off at work, (on so many levels). She commented I should go and make a snowman to warm up and have some fun. Then it dawned on me hard. The kids haven't made one this year! Shown no intent, no interest, just happy and no school. I asked them, shall we go and make a snowman? They both looked up only with their eyes, through their long lashes and half scowling half with mockery, said in unison 'Nah Mum!'...like as if, WTF was l thinking. Another moment of childhood. Gone.

It must be cold. I am always hot. In the sense that I am always flushing. It's my age. I've just changed into warmer clothing. I'm wearing thick jeans, a cashmere long baggy jumper, a cashmere cardi and a large pashmina. Uggs on my now warm toots! Sitting in front of the one gas fire. Everyone else is in their own room, in bed, under their duvet, online. The modern family unit, apart and together!

Not a snowman in sight.

The year the sea froze

THE BIG FREEZE UK

1963 Hampton, Herne Bay

my dog Butch on the far left

Me & my Dad (JP) 1963

Hampton Promenade

Herne Bay, Kent

ABC Wednesday - Q is for ...

... Queen & Quebec

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RMS

QUEEN ELIZABETH

Cunard

In October 1968, I was ten years of age and

the adventure which had begun two years earlier was coming to an end.

In October 1966 we emigrated to Canada to start a new life.

We left Southampton docks

on the Cunard ship Arcadia and five of us shared a small cabin class room,

two sets of bunk beds and a cot for my 6 month old sister.

We settled in Pointe Claire, Montreal, Quebec.

The following year we moved to Mexico City

following the death of Papacito, my grandfather.

My grandfather was French but longtime Mexican resident.

He moved to Mexico as a young man and was latterly

the General Manager of the very swish department store

Paris, Londres.

We left Mexico and flew to New York,

where we stayed for a few days in the now long gone Hotel Manhattan,

in downtown Manhattan, New York.

A few days later we embarked the Cunard ship RMS Queen Elizabeth,

a much grander ship I had never seen.

First class Verandah grill

A fabulous adventure for young children, I recall watching many films in one of the several cinemas, my brother aged 4 and I exploring the ship. One day we went down some stairs and down and down until we found a swimming pool, but were asked by a steward to leave, I remember feeling very mischievous.

I also ran down a stairway straight into a wall and my nose bled for ages and until it was cauterized twice in '75 -when I was at school in New York state- I often suffered 1-2 hour nose bleeds.

First class Lounge

I remember the trip vividly, especially the last morning when we sailed sedately up the St. Lawrence river in the early hours and which has already been described beautifully here.

On this journey we travelled first class in a 'stateroom', which consisted of adjoining rooms.

My room was shared with Mutti, an elderly lady who was a family friend.

I remember the furniture was covered with green frilly floral upholstery, curtains and bedding.

I remember thinking it was very grand.

Mum & Dad dressed to kill for Captain's Cocktails

1968 Final Voyage RMS Queen Elizabeth

New York/ Southampton

more images of THE SHIPS INTERIOR

This is also very topical as today the liner HMS Queen Elizabeth II began it's final voyage also!

THE SHIPS HISTORY HERE

RMS Queen Elizabeth

The world's largest liner 1939-96

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