The four moons of Gallifray

There was a very eerie sight in the sky over Feltham last night: four little red lights, twinkling like tiny stars. What could this be? My home town may be notorious for it's Young Offender's institution, or the Borstal as those of us of a certain age still think of it- but it hasn't yet got a red light district as far as I know. Or has someone assembled a suburban rival to the London Eye, apparently experiencing financial difficulties right now, much to my surprise. Mmm, could be.

Or maybe, I thought whimsically, we've been transported to another galaxy momentarily and this is part of the launch party for the much-heralded new series of Doctor Who which begins on Easter Saturday.Perhaps these mysterious red lights are actually four satellites shining over the home planet of the latest Who, Christopher Ecclestone, parading along with his arch adversaries today in my alma mater of Cardiff where the series was filmed. Strange choice of location- surely it doesn't look that alien does it, even if it is Wales! One reason I decided not to stay in the capital of the principality after graduating was that I did not feel Welsh enough, although you could say that one reason I have doubts about staying in Eastbourne is that I don't feel old enough!

Enough of these flights of fancy though. The actual answer for these unusual sights on the Middlesex skyline is that they are the aircraft warning lights atop the cranes now adorning the hub of my home town as the new Longford Centre, "Feltham reborn" as the marketing hype has it, takes shape. They do make a graceful sight, by day or night, and it is very encouraging to see the superstructure of this retail, residential and community "ship" taking shape. Here's hoping it will make a real difference to this often unregarded dormitory town on the edge of London, though maybe it's time the area's achievements are given the credit they deserve.

For example:
A favoured variety of pea, the Feltham First, was grown in the very soil on which my house now sits when it was one of the many orchards and market gardens which once made up the landscape of this part of Middlesex
The Feltham tramcar was made here and was in widespread use across the country until trams became displaced by buses in the early sixties. Ironically though, this town never had a tram service of its own
James Bond's Aston Martin was made here, in a factory on the Hanworth Air Park, where the Graf Zeppelin landed in 1932.
And, lest you be wondering how we managed in the days before GPS, General Roy's baseline for the first Ordnance Survey maps was drawn less than a mile from where I now sit.

But what about the pubs....

THE MOON ON THE SQUARE
Sadly, Feltham doesn't really have any classic hostelries any more, though the beer served in those it does have is generally pretty good. Pun intended, but I don't commend the General Roy, the area's newest pub on the edge of the Air Park, which has become one of those dreadful Big Steak places.
This means my local these days tends to be the town's Wetherspoon outlet, with the rather uninspiring and unoriginal name of The Moon on the Square. It used to be The Cricketers, a popular friendly pub for several years and where my Mum and Dad enjoyed many a Sunday evening singsong around the old joeanna in the mid seventies. None of that these days: music is barred in J D W's establishments. However, it does make for an easy conversational environment, and I was able to enjoy three pints or so of some tasty beers along with Dave last night- and very welcome they were too along with the conversation.

The beers? Well, I started with a very strange experience: a tasty brew which looked rather more like Fairy Liquid than the product of the malt and the hop. This was Signs of Spring from the Stonehenge brewery; I mused to Dave that its colour made it more suitable for St Pat's Day in a week's time, but it's taste was lovely. However, I followed it up with that well-quaffed brew of my youth, Greene King Abbot Ale, and finally joined Dave in Robinson's England's Champion ale.

It's not often lately that I have had the chance to spend times in the congenial company of my own friends, along with the relaxing companion which is a good pint. It's been good to go out with my brother and his friends at least once a week while Mum has been ill, but it's not quite the same. I've known Dave now for 29 years- which makes me feel really old- so we can chat about most things fairly honestly and it was good to release some of my woes last night, but also feel a bit cheered and at least for a moment forget the gloom which the cloudy weather here today is not helping. Indeed, late evenings seem to be the best time for me lately when I feel at my most relaxed: another day has been got through, and I enjoy either the TV or some humour with BBC 7, or try to get off to sleep with Radio 4 or Radio 5 Live. As I observed in an earlier posting, I am certainly experiencing again the comfort of radio as a constant companion. At which point, time to turn Ken Bruce on again, if you'll pardon the phrase.

RESPITE
In all times of crisis and worry, human beings need something to take their mind off their troubles and to give them a happier focus. Somehow it is how we keep going- few souls can cope with constant trauma, or though it always amazes me how resilient the human spirit is and what some people get through in their lives. I've heard and remembered several people recently who have had losses much sadder than those I keep contemplating and somehow it gives me a kind of encouragement that I will be able to cope and move on myself, though I have had frequent cause to doubt that and worry about it myself recently.
Mothering Sunday proved to be a very worrying day when I honestly thought the end was at hand for my own dear Mum. Awaking at 8.00 to take her a cuppa in bed, where she has spent practically all her time lately, I found her looking very distressed and poorly, with laboured breathing, a pale colour and not even able to take fluids. A call to the excellent District nurses recommended a call to the ambulance service, who arrived very promptly and soon had Mum on the way to the Emergency Department at Ashford Hospital which has become so familiar to us this last year. Shamefully, its days as a fully fledged casualty unit are numbered, as it is due to become a "Walk In" facility in August-apparently due principally to difficulty in recruiting the extra staff required by the European Working Hours directive.
Mum was rushed into resuss, where she received the most excellent attention to control an apparent infection, to help her breathe and to get her blood pressure up, which fell dangerously low at one point. Once again, we were preparing ourselves for the worst. She was admitted to a bed on a male ward about mid-day, but was still very tired and so after a while with her Matthew and I attempted to get on with our own day, though we did return later. The worry and anxiety which seems to never lurk far from the door of my mind was back.
And yet, the next day found Mum looking much better. Once again, the magic bullet which is the anti-biotic seemed to be doing the trick and at least the crisis was under control. I found Mum fairly oblivious of what had happened the day before, and she was even talking much better than I had heard for ages.
The trouble is, it is easy to feel a false sense of security and complacency in these situations. The underlying cause of Mum's illness is not being treated by medicine because it has reached the point where it says it cannot be cured. But Medicine is not God, though science often things it is. Still there is hope, and Mum can still show something of her old self with her interest in others and a determination to live, even when she is so disabled and limited by her condition. Being in hospital though has also brought some comfort to us at home, as the uncomfortable daily routine in her cramped living area is replaced for a moment by hospital food and constant care as against the difficulties we feel with the stream of agency carers that now take care of Mum when she is here.
This illness certainly is teaching us to appreciate the value of each moment of life, even when it is limited by illness or disability. For my own part though, and I am sure this is the way Mum wants it, I also feel able today to make a trip down to Eastbourne to attend the last Ranworth housegroup of this quarter, which I am leading. The theme is "Tuning In"- couldn't have been a better choice for me, could it.

I hope still to have some good news to report when the next blog appears on this site, probably some time towards the end of next week. Meanwhile, thank you if you are reading this and supporting us in prayer- your thoughts and concern are much valued.