Mother's Day

Last weekend it was Mother's Day here in Britain; Ihad the chance of heading the heck out of Lowestoft and back home for the weekend, but as Mum still lives there I thought I would bite my lip and stay with her.

It wasn't a wrench leaving the Yacht Club for the last time; I had to tell the duty manager that the standards of his grand place had not lived up to expectations and indeed I could not recomend it to my company for further use. Like all good managers, he blamed the staff, and so it goes on.

I have already written about Saturday, and so we will switch to Sunday and when the strain really began to tell.

Mother dearest and I have had our differences. Well, lets be honest she hasn't been pure as the driven snow over the years and for me there are certain things that cannot be forgiven. For short visits these things can be over looked, but for a full blown weekendthey usually come into the open at some point. People say you only get one Mother, and for me she is my last blood reletive, but then friends are the family we wish we had.

Sunday dawned bright and clear, and since conversation had long since dwindled, I went out to the paper shop for a copy of The Sunday Times in which to immerse myself until we decided to head out in the car.

I had offered to cook the Sunday roast, but she insisted on cooking the rest of the meal, including the Yorkshire pudding, much to my disappointment as I am now quite good at it. Anyway, we decided to eat that meal in the evening and made do with a snack of bake in the oven rolls things that she had.

And then we squeezed into the tiny Toyota Agro and headed out into the spring sunshine for Great Yarmouth. Well, being on the coast 180 degrees of direction is sea, and so possible destinations are somewhat limited.

Great yarmouth is not great now, if it ever was, and now survives on supporting the oil and gas industry, and what few tourists now come to stay. In truth the council has made a real good effert to spruce up the prom and lights, but in the end it's still Yarmouth on the North Sea coast, cold in the spring and autumn and unbearable in the wonter when the east wind blows, and a combination of all this in the summer!

They are building a new harbour on what was once golden beach and holiday camps south of the pleasure beach. Quite where all the extra traffic will go is something else. But from there we drove along the seafront where a few brave sould were walking in the sunshine. We didn't stop; Mum can't walk far. But it was pleasant enough.

North of Yarmouth the Norfolk countryside takes over, and once the grim holiday camps thin out and stop, it's a mixture of fields and reedbeds. We stop at a restored windmill and have an ice cream from the kiosk and watched the birds flit over the reeds.

We headed back home via the quiet way through little villages with thatched pubs to the house. Once back I seasoned the beef and put it in the oven and soon wonderful smells filled the house. She prepared the vegetables and soon those were bubbling away. Part-boiled potatoes were put in a tray of bubbling lard and dispatched into the oven to roast, and the Yorkie was soon to join them.

I opened a bottle of eight year old red, and once time, began to carve the beef and serve up the meal. Mum has learnt that just three veg is now enough, not the eight we had when I was a child. But it was all fine, the beef pleasantly pink in the middle, although too chewy for mum's new gnashers. And the wine was wonderful, full and smooth.

So afterwards we chatted, and talk moved on to family adn her Mother; an evil whitch if I'm honest. And Mum talked of her life and her problems with her mother, and then I pointed out that al lot of those were the same as what I have with her. All weekend she had been kidding herself all was fine between us; maybe I should have been kind; I'm sure there will be be people telling me I should. But, I'm only human and cannot lie all too easily. especially when i think she should realise what she has done.

Anyway, by Monday morning, I had had enough of being there; the main problem was the smoke. She is back on the weed after multiple failed attempts to quit, and for a non-smoker there is only so much one can take.

All there was left was one more day at work, packing up our equpment before it was time to head south and back to my home, with Jools; for a couple of weeks at least.