Oldddudders

I must be missing something here. R2220 is a Bulleid Pacific.

Well, Sherry tells me that disembarking was the slowest ever, so she has been grinding her teeth, despite a lovely morning. I, on the other hand, have driven through a lot of fog. I use the D2, which was beautifully realigned about a decade ago, and is a lovely piece of road. Sadly, I join it in St Cosme en Varais, after which the road climbs steadily for some miles, complete with bendy bits and thick forest, albeit with occasional vistas to the west. This morning I was second in the queue behind a transporter with a large excavator on board, which struggled with the slope. The young guy in front of me, in an elderly Scenic, so obviously a parent, overtook where he could not possibly see safely in the fog, but I held back until the white line allowed and the vision was adequate, a couple of miles later - mainly at 40 kph or less! Being an April Fool to that extent is not on. Significantly, while there was a lengthy queue behind me, none of the others ever appeared again in my mirror. Stress is the only possible cause for Alison's frightening event of Monday night, say the medics. How we help her to shed some of that is not obvious. The ex is pure poison, and sends hectoring emails. He refuses to use the phone. At least tomorrow the kids are away for a week with him, and a male friend is coming to stay for a day or two. He seems genuine - having twice stayed the night he has yet to make any 'moves' - so he will help her unwind.

Morning all I am on skool run duty this morning, but only for 7-y-o Sammy, as elder brother Brodie is having a day inspecting a college ahead of the decision about which one he chooses for next scholastic year. Waiting for the boys yesterday afternoon, two teachers approached me to discuss this, so I was txting Alison in English and chatting to them in my inadequate French. Brodie will be picked up and dropped home by another parent. Alison hope to be home by lunchtime. While she has been given all sorts of good news about her ticker and associated plumbing, I feel they haven't identified just what ailed her the other night. I hope it was a one-off. I don't have a sister, so that explains my keen ongoing interest in the opposite sex. Does that count as a deprived childhood? Certainly not depraved! Far Kew was a mythical location on the London Midland Region in SW London, just over the regional boundary from Southern. A busy place, it needed two signalboxes, named Far Kew One and ........ All this according to the Southern Regional Planning Manager's office, which I joined in 1984. And the boss who briefed me on this important aspect is now a railway author. In those days he was forever in the letters page of Modern Railways discussing André Chapelon and his works. A PM from another member, seldom an ER, although he knows one or two here, revealed that he is still working, despite not being that much younger than me. Yet another person who reminds me how lucky I have been, relatively speaking. Sherry finishing brekkie on board, should be on terra firma shortly, with a long drive from Portsmouth to Torquay. Hope your week winds up well.

Order placed late on Easter Sunday, despatch confirmed Tuesday, delivered in rural France Thursday morning. Tough to beat.

A headline text from Alison says they've proclaimed her arteries to be in excellent nick. A fine result, although medication may still be needed. Relief all round here. I told her that ERs folk were rooting for her. Made all the difference, thankyou all!

through the meadowland, towards a closing door

Absolutely. While meeting the high standards that the Andy Ys of this world achieve in magazines etc is very worthwhile, it is also very time-consuming, thus reducing Gilbert's time for actually running trains, so raw pics of models are entirely acceptable and enjoyable here.

Blue Velvet - Bobby Vinton

The farrier was due today. So I set off the 2 km to the horses, fed them, tied them up in approved Deb fashion by attaching the lead-rope to string on the fence, and most unusually, set to washing Varian's bottom. Sadly, once Bronte had finished her nosh, she snapped the string holding her lead-rope to the fence and set off across the field at a gallop. The whole idea of the string is that it snaps, rather than the horse's neck. Yes, really, if they panic. Fortunately, Laurent the farrier then appeared. Once Bronte saw us taking Varian out of the paddock, she came running and allowed Laurent to catch her. We tied them up and he set to work, while I pulled a zillion burrs out of Varian's tail. Trust me, when a horse passes wind you know about it when standing at that end. Crikey. And soon after the tail was lifted for something more major, so I stood well clear. Sherry is keeping an eye on Brittany Ferries' website in view of current strike actions. She is due to sail from Caen tonight. I expect to travel on 13th April, but if Alison is hors de combat I may need to be here for her, or at least the ungrateful brats. Hmm.

Morning all Sherry's last morning here for this visit, sadly. I shall miss her very much this time, which is kinda nice. Yesterday Sherry drove us about 140 miles, taking kids to and from skool, and then to see mum Alison in hospital. I don't think she got even one word of thanks from the youngsters, aged 7, 10 and 12. And the youngest has a dreadful cough. We are off shortly to do the morning skool run. As examples of home education, which they were until the parental break-up a couple of years ago, they make a great case for skool! Alison, by contrast, has texted her gratitude, of course. Alison has her test this morning, injected dye being monitored to identify pinch points around the heart. Fingers crossed it's something trivial. While she has always been overweight, she has never been a smoker, and certainly exercises daily. She feels the staff are on her side, more than for the smokers elsewhere in the cardiac ward. Off on the skool run in a few minutes.

Backstabbers - O'Jays

Some fairy tales take a little longer to come true. Alison is still in dock, in a cardio room to herself, with large monitors alongside, and pads and cables here and there. Apparently, after an event, the heart generates an enzyme which cardiologists use as a bit of a tell-tale. Sadly Alison has distinct traces of this, and so on Thursday afternoon she will have some sort of test. I was shown an information video of this but only vaguely got it. Not my sort of thing, really. By some margin. Graphics of heart problems are less than appetising, thanks, however eminent the presenter. Among the 947 other stresses in her life, Alison fears that if the ex realises she's had a heart event, he will claim she is not fit to look after their offspring, and simply keep them in Wales. Few mothers would relish that as a nightmare. Sheesh. Tomorrow Sherry and I will deliver the youngest boys to skool, and collect them 3 hours later. All being well we will take them to Le Mans to see mummy during the afternoon, when they have their half-day.

To her consternation, an apparently-recovering Alison found she was to be transferred to Le Mans, where the Centre Hospitalier is well-equipped compared with her local place at La Ferté Bernard. She was sedated, has had blood tests and a scan which appeared to show nothing untoward. But is still awaiting clearance for take-off via Sherry's taxi! If not today, she says it may be Thursday, which will be tough on her bambini. We dropped in to see them with bread supplies, and sensed they were all being rather brave. Fingers crossed - and thanks for all the generous comments about our good-neighbourliness. I guarantee you would all do the same. It's called being civilised.

There is something very 2016 about a patient in A&E texting while awaiting a specialist to arrive from Le Mans, but so it is this morning. Alison is bored and very thirsty, being nil by mouth right now. Feels much better. Is wired up, apparently. Has texted both the skools to explain that the boys will not be in, too. At least I don't have to contact the vile ex to tell him the kids are all his now. But I do have strict instructions about contacting the French amour! Sherry and I got a couple of hours more sleep, so will be somewhat zombified today. Hope your working week sets sail in a more dignified fashion!

Fortunately there is a volunteer worker staying there. Gio is Dutch, mid-20s, not the brightest but solid. He's been there a couple of months now. But he has no money, can't drive. Has not been encouraged to cook! And despite doing a daily online course, seems to speak very little French. Until we have a diagnosis from the medics we're unable to see forward, but if it's not good Alison's world will come tumbling down. At 51, and rather overweight, with an awful lot of stress, she is a bit of a candidate for ticker trouble, really. Let's hope it's all much simpler and sweeter!

Tea in bed. Our night was disturbed when the phone rang at 00.45. It was Alison, saying that she thought she was having a heart attack. I recommended ringing 15, the emergency number. I got dressed and drove over to her place, about 15' away. She was very distressed and frightened, as you might be with dreadful chest pains. The ambulance got a bit lost in the labyrinth of lanes, so I drove off to meet them. They ran some tests, put her in the wagon, took her off. I am the contact point. If she is seriously ill the implications are huge. She has three youngish kids, the oldest 12, and an estranged partner, currently living in Wales. He'd like nothing better than to take the kids, and is due to pick them up on Saturday for his statutory week with them. In the meantime, Sherry and I may find ourselves doing shopping, even cooking, for the boys, pro tem. We were back in bed by 2, but cannot sleep yet. Who knows what will happen next?

chasing the ghosts of Gable and Flynn

Morning all from a soggy, blowy Sarthe. Gusts to 60 mph were forecast, but they didn't really disturb us. However, although I haven't really taken stock outside, I noticed that the up-and-over garage door has blown open. There will be some water in there. Friends Richard and Anita have posted on Facebook a picture of several trees blocking their minor road, so today could be a challenge for some. Hope the Bonk Holiday behaves well for you.

Your 2205 post refuses to accept adulation. RMweb is unable to award any, it says. Worse. It hath now disappeared. Come back, Richard (nearly) all is forgiven!

ISTR being in the ROH the night of her 90th birthday. No evidence of improper or lewd behaviour on that occasion.

Please Don't Eat The Daisies - Doris Day

Even we managed roast lamb today. Not exactly agnus dei, but it's kinda nice to eat meat that was conceivved, reared and culled witin sight of chez nous. Thanks to the freezer, Sheena's lamb having been butchered a couple of years ago. Sherry managed to hear some of an Easter service courtesy of Radio 4. I think a little drowsing may be on the cards shortly.

No easier research than buying books! Irwell Press have a series called Mainline To The West, which covers sections of the line between Blazingsmoke and Exeter. I suspect these might answer some of your questions.

Morning all After weeks of calm, dry weather, things are taking a turn for the seasonal. We had thunder last night, and violent rainstorms. Today it is forecast to be breezy, but overnight we will have winds up to 60 mph. I think I may have heard thunder again just now. Sorry to note Jock is suffering new discomforts, but still manages to post things here. Remarkable fortitude. I hope the change of clocks hasn't left you lacking sleep.

In the heady (headlong?) days of Rail Privatisation, my client and I would once every month be on a train that stopped at Market Harborough. Stephen would say "Ah - God's own country!" as he had been born there. He now lives at Titchmarsh, which isn't all that far away. Sherry tells me her parents lived at MH at the end of the war. I think that was the Hitler war.