Friday 27th May 2022

Mum's birthday.

She Would have been 78. Only she didn't reach that mark.

On the long drive(s) to the airport before my trip to Rhodes, Jools asked if I missed Mum.

I have to be honest and say that I haven't. Its been nearly three years, and once the initial shock wore off, there were tasks to complete and life went on.

The closing of her estate combined with the first lockdown, so with that done, we were able to pay off the mortgage and begin to work for ourself rather than the bank manager.

I am thankful to Mum for that, and had she not have had a shopping addicition there might have been more. But in the end, its just money, and although we had our great differences, I would rather she had lived a longer and happier life. But she made her choices, especially after her minor heart problems, then again after the quadruple bypass.

She failed to change.

I came to terms with that, and moved on.

Sometimes I guess the anger wasn't about what I was angry about, just the waste of a life, spending the last decade and a half in her armchair, smoking, eating Pringles and doing crosswords. But that's what she wanted to do, and she earned the right to make that choice, even if it was a poor one.

I have seen friend's parents fade away, as either their mind or body failed. Dad went quick, hard to bear by easier to think he suffered little.

Mum suffered for over 20 years, and yet did not change. I know I tried everything, and it didn't work. Either anger, pleading, reason did not work.

So, to Friday.

I had arranged to meet a member from the group, Graham, and take hom to see the Heath Spotteds at Hothfield and then go to the Medway Valley to see the Early Marsh. This was to be the last full day of orchiding of the holiday, as frankly, I am whacked. But can find more energy of there's an orchid invlved.

Jools went to yoga at six, I put the bins out and had breakfast, as I did not have to be at Hothfield until nine. What I hadn't banks on was the traffic, which was made at eight. It seems that traffic heading to the Duke of Yorks school backed up across the roundabout, blocking all traffic. Maybe it happens every day, maybe it was just because if the the start of the half-term get-away. But traffic was solid.

I turned down JUbilee Way and was confronted with a jam from half way down. I turned round and then had to wait ten minutes to get over the roundabout, go down to Whitfield, go down the hill and out along the Alkham Valley, along with half the town.

No problems to Ashford, and out the other side to find yet more roadworks, right on the corner where I have to turn to reach the car park. And when I arrived there was no Graham.

So, I waited, and ten minutes later he arrived, he had also been caught up in traffic.

We walked down through the parkland to the fenced reserve, and to my surprise I saw no rosettes let alone spikes of the Heath Spotted Orchids I had expected to be in flower. We reached the decking, and on the platform were two people from Nature England, who were no happy with the management of the site, almost no moving water through the bog and sapling growth unchecked for several years.

On the way back to the car, I looked again and found two tiny spikes one with a single open flower and the other with two. Around them were several rosetted, but this was it, none anywhere else in the fenced reserve.

Sigh.

We walked back to the cars, then drove along to Leeds and onto the motorway before turning off to drive up the downs to the M2, across the Medway and then down through Cuxton to the meadow.

It was a glorious day, no clouds, light wind, and lots of orchids to snap. I hoped.

We parked between the houses, then crossed the main road, walked through the industrial estate, through the grafitti-covered tunnel under the railway, and into green heaven. It was like walking through jackets at the back of a wardrobe, but instead of winter, we walked into a luminous green landscape.

My friend, Terry, said it was easier climbing over the fence into the second meadow, rather than fight our way through the first like two Victorian explorers. Which is what we did. My legs just long enough to alow me to stride over the fence and into the meadow.

Two minutes of searching brought us the four x grandis hybrids, in full flower, fully two weeks earlier than last year. Around them, three tiny spikes of that we had come to see, the Early marsh Orchids.

In the other meadow I found two more EMO, some SMO and CSO, but dozens of hybrids of all three, deciding which were the parents was impossible.

I was distracted by two moths as well, and got shots.

But after half an hour we were done.

We walked back to the cars. Me via the garage for lunch. I bought too much, but was hungry. We drove in separate directions, me heading south on the M2, along with traffic heading to the port.

I decided to go via Thanet Way and miss the A2 out totally, which I think was wide, and made for eating lunch easier as I drove. It also allowed me to call in at the butchers in Preston for some lamb steaks for a tagine on Sunday.

I drove through Deal, just to make sure I'd miss the port traffic, that I would rather deal with traffic in, er Deal, shows how bad it was.

I had only been home half an hour and had to go out to collect Jools from the car hire place after dropping the monster Hyundai off. Rather than go to their compound, I waited in the St James car park, where Jools could nip through to via an alleyway.

It was the weekend.

So, we headed home up Castle Hill, then along Reach Road, looking out over the Channel to France where Common Sense now starts.

We had time for a brew and a donut each I got from the butchers.

Yummy.

At half four we went to collect Jen, then back to the Deal road and where dinner was waiting.

After parking, we walked to the Just Reproach for a swifter. Or two.

I had a pint of "mysterious brew", which was fine enough. And afterwards was tempted by the whisky infused cider, whcih didn't taste much of whisky, but was fine enough.

Jools had booked us in at a new place (for us) called "Lanes", and was indeed down a backstreet behind the old post office. We were the only customers, and were shown to our table. We were entertained by a hen party arriving for a function upstairs, seeing youn ladies try to walk up the stairs on sky-high heeled shots and mini skirts.

The food came; a sharing tower, filled with Morroccan nibbles. We had ordered an portion of "loaded" fries, which meant we all had enough to eat along with our cocktails.

We were in town for a Barry White tribute night at the Astor, Jools wanted to go, I came along, and Jen said she's give it a go, but wasn't really her thing.

Wasn't my thing, and near the end of the support set by a Supreme tribute act, I made my excuses and left, walked to the bus station to get a cab from the rank, and was back home in ten minutes. I sat in the back garden, watching the stars and planes, sipping sloe gin.

It got dark and I sipped on.