Tuesday 3 September 2013

The beginning of the end


It is one of those wonderful, misty mornings when you first smell Autumn in the air, and the air is so still that the smell of breakfast being cooked in a nearby hotel drifted into our compact but adorable city apartment at about 7.30 this morning.

You just know that the mist will dissipate by 11.00, and it will get quite warm in the low sunshine. I hope this sort of pattern goes on through September and October, when I go off on the first mushroom hunt of the season and the leaves have turned brown.

I was just shutting the computer down last night before going to bed, when I heard Green-Eyes shout my name from the street below. I looked out of the window and saw her looking up, together with two friends who I have also known since they were small children, and I went down to let them in.

One of them had forgotten to take out her I.D. so they had been refused entry into a pub and decided to visit me and drink my wine instead. They brought their own chips though.

We laughed in whispers in the kitchen, as H.I. had gone to bed quite a while before. At least I assumed she had gone to bed, because when I woke up at the kitchen table (it's a bad habit) she was not there.

One of the girls told us how she had visited a 'ping-pong ball' night-club when in Thailand, and the meaning of this had to be explained to the other two, sweet and innocent things that they are - not. (Come to think of it, I was recently surprised to hear G.E. shout a cheery, "Love you long-time!" to a female friend as she left a shop, and I had to explain to her the Thai origins of this greeting/promise. She had no idea.)

I wondered what a 19 year-old girl was doing in such a place, but she explained that she had been more or less dragged in by a group of boys and was the only girl in the party. The mechanics of these tricks were discussed, and she said that the other trick of the night was a 50 year-old woman who took in a glass of clear water, then expressed what appeared to be a whole bottle of Coca Cola. Kids grow up so fast these days, don't they?

I let them out and said goodbye to the three of them, and - it being the start of September - I will probably not see Green-Eyes again for quite a while, as she goes straight to college in London when she gets back from a festival in Croatia. She is itching to fly the nest, but it's going to be a bit of a blow to her mother, and the rest of us.

There's always a melancholic aspect to Autumn, but what is the beginning of the end to one generation is the start of a new beginning to the next one, I suppose. I'm going to miss her.

17 comments:

  1. We, your readers, will call by here more often and comment more annoyingly to distract you from missing her. How nice to be sought out by the young, even if only for the sake of your wine.

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    1. I look forward to more annoying comments, Mise, and if anyone else wants to drop round for a glass of wine, they are more than welcome. (Old man shouting through letter-box...)

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  2. I was just thinking the same thing as Mise .... I could not see my generation shouting up to their elders at night , inviting themselves in, drinking their wine and discussing the in's and out's { !!!! } of the use of vaginal cavities !!!! ..... that's not a criticism ...... we do have much more open relationships with the younger generation nowadays, don't we ?
    I'm afraid this is the start of a new beginning for GE and, as they say, the best parent { or Grandparent } is the one who can let them go.
    Try to be brave Tom !! ...... just think of all of those delicious mushrooms waiting for you out there and more wine for you !! There's always a positive to be found. XXXX

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    1. I know. I also know that I have been quite an influence on her informative years - mainly preventing her from taking the WRONG SORT of drugs.

      Soon - in the blink of an eye - there will be greater grandchildren than her, but only in a generational sense.

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  3. I dread my (only) kid going off to college. Sorry to be negative.

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  4. I dread my (only) kid going off to college. Sorry to be negative.

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    1. I dread it too Susie and he's only 9!

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    2. My comments have doubled on this blog and John's blog. I don't know why.

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    3. It's good to share, even if you do repeat yourself - I make a regular habit of it.

      Wouldn't it be so much worse, though, if he hung around until he was about 35, or you died?

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  5. NO, I'm really NOT going to Google 'Ping Pong Ball Nightclub'. My innocence is sacred.

    I liked it when my lot went off to Uni. They grew-up so fast, and suddenly became a real pleasure to be with. Often annoying, yes; but wonderful.

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    1. That about sums it up. I've never loved anyone yet who I have never found a pain in the arse, which is just as well, considering how many allowances have been made for me.

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    2. p.s. Serious downpours forecast here for the weekend... Cepes should appear around the 18th.

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  6. Pity in a way that we are not like birds Tom - once they chuck their fledglings out of the nest and push food down their beaks for a couple of weeks, they forget all about them and go on to do it all again.

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    1. Sometimes they stop pushing food down their necks and eat THEM as well. Mmm... I feel a spit-roast coming on.

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  7. To tell you the truth, Tom: it hurts like hell, and even after almost ten years and absolutely lovely and many contacts with son and DiL, and knowing that independence is the best that could happen to a loved child - I'm still missing him. Maybe it helps to try sleeping on the kitchen table, once. (A good mushroom-hunter I am already).

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    1. Oh thank God - I thought you were talking about ping-pong balls for a minute.

      Sleeping ON the kitchen table? Under, maybe.

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    2. Hahaha - your first idea just didn't occur to my innocent mind.
      And I thought one sits at a kitchen table, sips beer and then dozes off, laying head and arms on the table - have that image of the Doormouse in 'Alice in Wonderland' (book) vividly before my eyes. "Very uncomfortable for the Doormouse," thought Alice; "only, as it's asleep, I suppose it doesn't mind."

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