Friends

Go West!

Some weeks ago, my dear friend Sally commented on a blog that that we should visit her. First, I checked that she wasn’t just being polite and then set a date. They live near the Forest of Dean, so it would be more than a coffee klatch. However, we haven’t seen them for a year and they are the best company.

The day fixed in the diary, we organised the dog, checked Mariia had plenty to eat in the fridge, and planned the route.

Making the intolerable, tolerable

Setting off on Friday, we knew that we would encounter traffic, but it would give us a full weekend with our friends. Living in the South East is great, until you try to get out of it. Much of the drive would be snailing along clogged motorway. But we had each other for company and long journeys are a perfect opportunity to talk properly. How often, after all, do you get a clear five or six hours to converse?

We broke the drive in the delightful town of Marlow, which sits alongside the Thames. Arriving in golden summer sunshine, it looked like an advert from the British Tourist Board: rowing boats moored at the riverside; a delicate iron suspension bridge and bunting on the High Street.

Image: Snapper Five at English Wikipedia

It is frightfully posh, boasting not one but two Michelin starred restaurants and a list of celebrity residents that is too long to repeat, though I was sorry to miss seeing the Shelley’s house where Mary composed much of Frankenstein.

Keeping with the spirit of the place, we stopped at The Ivy for lunch (which was surprisingly reasonable!) Our meals were a delight and the decor enchanting. We would have tarried longer, but we still had a long drive ahead.

Far from the madding crowd

Once we cleared Oxford, we could enjoy the magnificent countryside and quiet roads. The closer we got to our destination, the prettier it all became; passing houses of Cotswold Stone and tiny thatched cottages. This is the England I love.

Arriving in early evening, we had time for a mug of tea and delicious flapjacks fresh from the Aga. Dinner was relaxed and scrumptious (thank you Derek) and eaten around their huge kitchen table.

The Lomaxes are the perfect hosts – providing everything you need while chatting away and making their guests feel relaxed and comfortable. They also seem to have far more energy than the average human being. As if having guests were not enough, their grandchildren were staying the night.

So while Sally and I read stories (which was a real treat for me), Jeff and Derek went out blackberrying. And after that, it was time to sit and chat and relax until we couldn’t stay awake any longer.

The forest and the river

When we were finally able to drag ourselves away from our breakfast smorgasbord, we set off to the Forest of Dean with a couple of additional family members.

Jeff had invested in some very high tech wheelchair wheels in the hope that I could travel off-road, but sadly, the forest defeated them and I used my chair as a kind of zimmer instead.

The Forest of Dean Sculpture Trail is magnificent with over eighteen forest inspired sculptures over a challenging 4.8 trail. Of course, I’d love to do all of it, but for now I was happy to get a taste of it at the most accessible part. If it is something you might enjoy, here’s the website: https://www.forestryengland.uk/beechenhurst/arts-the-forest-dean-sculpture-trail-beechenhurst

Some sculptures, like the one above, were easy to spot; some like the poem written into stone were rather easier to miss.

Of course, the forest itself had much to offer from a canopy of ancient oaks to the undergrowth of luminous green ferns. Daphne the dog enjoyed her adventure and little Isla-May was engrossed by the flowers and the pearlescent ink blue beetles.

If only we could retain our wonder at the natural world!

Ross-on-Wye

Close to our friend’s house is the historic town of Ross-On-Wye. The whole area is an outdoor enthusiast’s playground with epic mountain bike trails and water sports. Ross-on-Wye offers life at a gentler pace with its meandering river and pretty park borders.

Here you could while away an afternoon in a canoe or picnic on the banks, or as we did, go to a riverside pub to enjoy a delicious dinner.

We took our friends as a small thank you for their hospitality. It was also their anniversary and with five grown children and four grandchildren, they seldom get the chance to indulge themselves. We were very happy to give them the excuse to go out for dinner.

Friends for a lifetime

I have the great privilege of having many friends whom I have known for decades and Sally and Derek are no exception. We met through the NCT (National Childbirth Trust) coffee mornings and have kept in touch ever since. I suspect that there is a benefit to making friends when you haven’t slept for weeks, look like you’ve grabbed any item of clothing that is clean to wear (which you did) and by the time you meet is covered in baby vomit. If someone will accept you as a friend then, things can only get better.

It was wonderful to see the babies grow and have their own children, though we hardly felt enough time had passed for that.

We spent our final evening discussing books we’ve loved, swapping recipes and tips and catching up on wider family.

Sunday was employed exploring the village (Jeff and I) and barbecuing vegetables and preparing salads for lunch. We had a feast.

Home again

We returned home to an excited dog and an angelic Mariia, who had made a delicious dinner and picked 1.5 kg of blackberries. (Our efforts seemed rather paltry in comparison!) Normality resumed.

But our heads are filled with wonderful memories and our phones with photos. I only hope that Sally and Derek can get away to visit us soon; I don’t want to have to wait another year!

Making Time for Friends

When life is crazy busy, it is easy to fail to make time for our most precious resource: friends. They lift us up when we’re feeling down; provide an anchor when we’re feeling lost and well, just make life much more enjoyable. This post is a little celebration of all my friends and how they have brought me joy.

Faraway friends

As someone who has traversed continents and moved rather more than advisable, I have always had friends who live far away. Some have themselves moved to more exciting places abroad, or other parts of the country, but they are all too valuable to give up.

It would be easy to say, ‘Oh well, they live in America or Australia and there’s no point in keeping in touch.’ But from my experience, that would be folly. My slightly erratic calls to a dear friend in Australia, are always a delight, and I hope she will make it back to England before too long.

My closest friend from graduate school may live four thousand miles away, but we email daily (short silly things) and this spring we finally managed a week’s reunion filled with outings and laughter. She’s already saving up to come again and we’ll meet up at my son’s wedding in the States in September.

**A windy day at Birling Gap with Elizabeth**
Image: Jeff Costello-McFeat

My best friend from school lives in Germany, but weekly, letter-like emails keep us up to date with each other’s lives and her regular trips back to Eastbourne are always something to look forward to.

Closer to home

Luckily, most of my friends live within a mile or two. For me, friendships flourish when you meet often, do things together and commit to regular contact.

This certainly applies to my craft club (below left with Elizabeth visiting) and my book group, below right (with birthday visitors).

I am fairly shameless in trying to make the tript worth their while and invest in good coffee and where possible delicious cakes. Bribery? Well, perhaps, but we all need a little encouragement.

School friends

Moving to Eastbourne was the best thing that happened to me. (I used to live in Swindon: enough said.) Here, I found life-long friends who all make the effort to keep in touch as much as possible. Though only two of us remain in the town, a visit from one or both of the others is a great excuse for a lunch out.

Friends that you have known since childhood are a little different from those you made last week. They know you deeply; have presumably forgiven or overlooked all your annoying habits and foibles and are rather more in the manner of siblings than acquaintances. There is no need for pretence or preening. Old friends ground us as no others can. Their company is as cosy and comforting as a favourite woolly jumper.

UKC Friends

I was equally blessed at university to make some very good friends. Liz has named us the UKC Chickadees. I have no idea why. So, I’ve looked it up and think I might have discovered the answer: they are described as smart, tough and friendly (sounds like my pals) but perhaps more likely, it is because these birds are found in the Carolinas where we all spent our third year. My friends were at the very prestigious Duke University, whilst I, who may have been slightly distracted by the opposite sex during my first two years at Kent, was at the University of South Carolina.

Also, being the song birds that we are, we like to chatter a lot. Though this is mainly via WhatsApp, we have committed to an annual reunion. Our most recent was last weekend, when we enjoyed perfect weather for a perfect visit.

Coffee dates

Since not all my friends fall into any particular group, I meet them for coffee. There are always birthdays to celebrate and other excuses, though I seldom need much of one to see them.

**Coffee and tea with friends** Image: Card by Jennifer Timberlake

New friends

And, no matter how many friends you have, there is always room for more. Our Ukrainian adventure has led us to meeting and enjoying the companionship of many wonderful people we would never otherwise have met. And our best new friend is, of course, our guest Mariia, who has taught us so much about the Ukrainian way of life and shown such fortitude in the most impossible of circumstances. She is the lemonade maker extraordinaire.

Mariia in Ukrainian traditional headdress Image: Mariia Matrunich

Correspondence friends

Which brings me to my final group of friends – the ones I am seldom able to visit due to time and distance, but who keep in touch though social media or letter. My very oldest friend, from primary school, still writes long and detailed missives filled with beautiful nature observations and family news. When we do meet up, the time apart falls away in an instant and we blether just as we did when we were ten.

Others keep in touch via my blog or email. Their messages always make me smile.

**Correspondence papers**
Image: Karen Costello-McFeat

As someone whose life has hardly gone to plan over the last decade, what has kept me sane and on the path to health has been my friends. They were with me when I was diagnosed with MS and again when I had cancer.

I have no doubt that my recovery in both is very much down to their love, care and attention. Chronic illness so often leads to the vicious cycle of depression, deteriorating health, more depression and so on. Though I have undoubtedly had to confront my demons, I did not have to do it alone.

It takes time and effort to keep close relationships, because friendship is like an exquisite flower: it needs nurturing or it will wither and die.

We may be tired or feel we don’t have time to write, but perhaps we can manage a post card for Pen Pal Day on June 1. Or a quick message on social media can be enough to let someone know we are thinking of them.

Whatever you do, make time for friends. I, for one, couldn’t manage without them.

Reasons to Be Cheerful 1,2,3

One might be forgiven for feeling rather less than cheerful at the moment. The promise of spring weather has been dashed by days of rain, snow and freezing winds. Abroad, the war in Ukraine shows no end in sight – only a troubling increase in casualties and cruel tactics. At home, the economy is staggering under the twin pressures of the continuing pandemic and steeply rising prices. So why, you are no doubt asking, have I entitled this post ‘Reasons to be Cheerful’? The answer is surprisingly simple. In the face of such conditions, we have precisely two options: sink into despair and retreat from the world or make the best of it. In the past, I have opted for the first. I would not recommend it. Depression immobilises us and seeps into the lives of others, draining them of energy too.

**Embracing the world as it is** Image: Davey Nin

The other option, the one I hold to with fierce conviction, is the Pollyannaish one. This term is often misused to suggest a naive and excessive optimism. Which is ironic, because the Pollyanna of the eponymous books searches for good as a way of coping with adversity. She is, after all, an orphan sent to live with a grumpy aunt who doesn’t want her and who is later seriously injured in a car accident. Pollyanna does not avoid difficulty or fail to see it: she simply does everything in her power to transform it. Which is what, if you wish to ‘keep your head when all about you/ Are losing theirs’, I suggest you do.

We need not be quite so saccharine as the hero of this early twentieth century novel, but should we care to look, there are always reasons to be cheerful. Here are mine:

Where would we be without them? This weekend, I was over-joyed to host my housemates from university. We hadn’t seen each other for over a decade and I was a little worried lest we wouldn’t know what to utter to each other. Suffice to say, these fears were unfounded. The two days passed in a flash of chatter and giggles. It was a wonderful antidote to current events and though the visit left me exhausted in body, it left me elated in spirit.

For those precious days, the sun returned resplendent and we were able to enjoy the garden and the seafront. Our visit to the local art gallery was a great success, with all the exhibitions being first class. Best of all, my friend was able to view the extensive collection of one of her favourite artists in the Ravilious room.

**The glorious exterior of the Towner Art Gallery Eastbourne.**
Image: Wendy Barton

After a giant brunch cooked by my husband, we parted with promises to make our next reunion much sooner than the last.

Their visit was a joyful event and a reminder that friends, old and new, never fail to delight us. I see friends most days and truly value their company. If I am able to make them smile, I will have succeeded in repaying my gratitude for their companionship.

Living here; living now

My great friend in the States is an avid reader of Medieval history and she often shares titbits of her discoveries on our weekly Skypes. There is nothing like being reminded of just how dire life was in previous eras to make you appreciate living in one’s own. The average life expectancy in the Middle Ages was a mere thirty-three years. If you survived infancy, you could look forward to an existence of hard labour and subsistence living. Most likely you would be a serf bound to the land of your lord. Personal freedoms were almost non-existent.

Violence and early death stalked you perpetually in the guise of plague, starvation, injury and war. As a woman, your fate was even worse. A bowl of cherries, life was not. https://www.historyextra.com/period/medieval/why-did-people-die-danger-medieval-period-life-expectancy/

But the Middle Ages was a terrible time, I hear you protest. True. However, I doubt anyone would sign up for a later period. The Tudors were terrible and the Victorians were vile (as the Horrible Histories attest). And the here bit is important. While our distant ancestors struggled, our contemporaries in the developing nations continue to do so. Where we complain about not having access to a good wifi connection, they are still travelling miles in order to get water.

Realising how fortunate we are to live in this period in this land, should be one of our reasons to be cheerful. Should we wish to bring a little help to those living in less ideal environments, we can spread that cheer a bit further.

You made it against the odds

When all other inducements for appreciating your life fail, there is always one to draw upon that brooks no argument. You are here. You are alive. What occurred to enable that is a series of almost unbelievable good fortune that resulted in your existence. Assuming that the first humans appeared 2,000,000 years ago, it means that if the average life-span was around 20 years, 100,000 generations succeeded in reproducing to allow you to be conceived. When you consider how difficult mere survival was until fairly recently, that is certainly miraculous.

Then, your conception involved the race of several hundred million sperm to the egg to be fertilized. The odds of being you were definitely against you, and yet, here you are, reading this.

Since I think it fair to say that the worst thing we can imagine (apart from public speaking) is not existing, we should rise each morning with a song of gratitude on our lips. Another day is ours for the taking. Reasons to be cheerful number 3.

Of course, I cannot leave this post without giving you an opportunity to hear the inimitable Ian Dury with his ‘Reasons to be Cheerful’. I’d love to add brilliant music to my list, but it would ruin its symmetry.