Fathers' Day, Owen Noel Lloyd's grave found, the mystery of Aunty Emily's mother solved, more on Uncle David's "White Elephant" medals, Olivia 30 years ago and today, Eladio painting the walls in the garden and other stories

Sunday 24th March 2019

My dearest husband Eladio beginning his task of painting the walls in the garden this week

Good morning all.

This week was supposed to be less busy than the previous but it turned out I was as busy as always. Every time I thought I had finished the family tree, the tree book or the biography, there was always something new coming up that had to be added. The most time consuming characters in this whole project have been, without a doubt, my grandfather John Collins Lloyd, his youngest brother, Owen Noel Lloyd, his maternal Uncle David and Uncle David's  mysterious wife,  Aunt Elian Emily Collins née Pemberton who was born in Burma. Gosh I realised too that there are so many nationalities intertwined in the family. We have English, Russian, Scottish, Irish, Welsh, Spanish, Canadian and now Burmese roots. What a melting pot. There may well be more but we just cannot research everyone. If only we had more time but we don't.

Last Sunday was relaxing in ways and not in others. It started off well, I was up early, carried out my usual morning routine then sat down to do my French homework. It was about the subjunctive and when to use it as opposed to the indicative, it took me about 1.5h and I was in a rush as Helene our French teacher was arriving at 11 for our weekly lesson. The problem is she gives us homework from a grammar book but doesn't go over the grammar in question beforehand. Thus I got about 40% wrong. Oli did a bit better. I suggested we change methods - after all I do have some ideas on how to learn a language or improve one - and we have asked her to  explain what we have to do before giving us homework. I also complained that it was  useless to go on to the next part of the grammar book if one doesn't learn  the previous exercises properly. My father always says, and he is right: "repetition is the mother of learning". We like Helene but, between you and me, her teaching method is not the best. Plus I have to keep telling her not to speak in Spanish to explain things as it muddles me up. I think I am losing a bit of interest and no longer look forward to our French lessons as much as I did before. But then again that may because I am so absorbed in the work for my father's 100th.  For my part, I am not the best pupil either, as I don't revise what we learned in a lesson. What I also miss is the learning of vocabulary lists. It's useless writing down new vocabulary if you don't memorise it and then  use it. It stays in your book but not in your head. Oh la la.

Thus I was rather relieved when it was over. I hadn't seen Olivia and Miguel for at least 2 weeks and they were to stay for lunch and spend the rest of the day at home. It was great to have them with us, they brighten up our home

While I was having our French lesson, our latest guest, a chap called Kumar from the UK and of Indian origin, the one who came in a Lotus car, was leaving. Later we found out  had broken the handle of one of the French windows which leads to the swimming pool. The Chinese guests left too. They were nice people but had disobeyed the Airbnb guidelines by booking for 1 person instead of two.  That night we were to receive two more guests, a Doctor Ayazi, a consultant  in  pain medicine (anaesthetist),  at the Royal Free Hospital in London (he might come in handy hahaha) and his son. Communication with them was nil. I had no idea what time they were arriving and would wait until late in the night to receive them.

But the day was gorgeous, very sunny with just a bit of wind. I made a bean stew for lunch or "fabada" as it is called here. It is a popular family dish and Olivia loves it. She would later take some in a tupperware to eat during the week.

Just before lunch, Amanda, my friend and editor of my father's biography, sent me the latest chunk of editing. She had nearly reached the appendices so hopefully we are reaching the end. Time is against us if everything has to be ready by 1st May.

Lunch itself was a super family meal with my father after which we ate some of the divine chocolate I had brought from Brussels. Later I spent time with Oli and Miguel. Miguel kindly reconfigured the wifi extender  for the upstairs part of the house. Our provider, Telefónica, had recently installed new routers but the signal was very poor upstairs. I call Miguel our own private technician.

Pippa was with us all the time. She was having a siesta on Oli's bed, her favourite place in the house. She particularly loves the pillows. I couldn't resist taking another photo of her looking like the queen of the house which is what she is.

Pippa the queen of our house

Later we would take her on our very necessary daily walk. The temperature was much fresher on Sunday but even so the sun shone and we enjoyed  it as we always do in the good weather.

I came home to prepare our dinner - giant prawns with salad - just as Miguel and Oli were leaving. I hope we see them again soon. Andy, our Scottish guest, was in the kitchen making his own dinner after his weekly Sunday hike in the mountains that surround Madrid. He is the best guest anyone could ever wish for.

We went to bed, still knowing nothing about the arrival of the mysterious Dr. Ayazi and his son. Meanwhile I wrote to my friend Amanda to invite her to my father's 100th on 1st May. I thought it would be a long shot as she lives so far. But guess what? She said yes, even though she had to rearrange her holiday. It is very important for me to have her here and I think for my father too as she was so much a part of our life in Bradford when I was a child and teenager. The next morning when I went in to say good morning to my father, I told him. His eyes lit up and he said "Good heavens", smiled and said "thank you darling". How lovely.

Finally at around 10.15pm when I was already asleep Dr. Ayazi rang from the airport to say they had just arrived. He would be picking up his hired car and hopefully they would be with us at around 11.15. But they got lost. Several times I went out to the street when each time he told me he was outside. But he wasn't. I had given them our address and location from the very beginning. I even had to go to the end of the street to look out for their car and I was wearing my dressing gown and slippers and felt rather put out. Wouldn't you? They got here finally at just after 11.30 when my usual latest check in time is 9pm. But nobody reads the small print of the listing do they? I had to try and seem welcoming and nice even though I was tired and bit out of sorts. But they were very lovely people and it wasn't their fault they got lost. I mean, if I tried to drive to Heathrow or Gatwick from the other side of London, no doubt I would have difficulty too. Thus I welcomed them as much as I could and soon they were settled in their rooms which they loved. The son, Alman, I think is his name, later would leave the light on on the terrace of his room all night. Guests are not careful about switching off lights and it drives Eladio mad. Me too actually.

I went back to bed and of course by then, I was wide awake and found it difficult to fall asleep again. 

I didn't sleep too badly and was up on Monday morning at 6.15, just after Lucy who by then had fed the dogs.

On Monday I spent a lot of the day planning this year's summer holiday. I had saved up to go to Bali or somewhere exotic but now Suzy is coming in May, we have changed our minds. Well, I have changed my mind but Eladio is pleased with the choice.  After all this work on my father and his father's biography - as John Collins Lloyd and co are very much part of it - I have the sudden urge to visit some of their old haunts. As my friend Amanda coined it, it will be like the final chapter in my  journey to discover my roots. But I also have a need to revisit Yorkshire, the place of my childhood. So on Monday I came up with a splendid plan to visit Yorkshire, then somewhere near Bristol and then Anglesey in Wales. From Holyhead we would take the ferry where my great grandfather, William Fox Lloyd Senior, was the chief steward, to Dublin. So now I had something else to get my teeth into, as if I didn't already have enough on my plate hahaha.

Oh yes, my plate was pretty full on Monday with lots of to-ing  and fro-ing by email and whattsap with my fellow partners in crime who are working with me on my father's 100th birthday project, namely Andy, Barry, Amanda and Joanne but also Kathy vs a vs the trip to Yorkshire. So yes I was busy but happily so.

I got interrupted a few times by my new guests, Dr. Ayazi and his son Alman. I found out that they are, as I suspected, from Iran although they live in London. I have to say that Dr. Ayazi, who is aged 62, is extremely attractive  - don't worry I only have eyes for my husband (hahaha) and in some ways reminds me of Lady Diana's Doctor Khan. He needed help to break the padlock on his suitcase and also indications on how to get to Madrid and things to do there. It's all in the guest book but of course it is easier to ask me than to read it hahaha. He is trying to get  his son into the local UEM University to study dentistry. I must say they are lovely people, the sort you would like to make friends with. He is really an intriguing man, my sort of person.   He was born in Iran in the north and is a Kurd. He lived in Azerbajan and studied medicine in Calcutta in India. Thus he speaks many languages. He then worked as a doctor in Teheran until the Shah fell and  Ayotaloh Homeini arrived with his fundamentalism. He had to escape and went to London with 5 pounds in his pocket. Today he is a consultant at the Royal Free hospital in London. What a story right?

Airbnb is a great way to make new friends and friends from all over the world. The next day after they left, we would receive our next guest, an older man from Bolivia, Rolando,  who would later tell me he was an architect. Both Dr. Ayazi and Rolando seemed to have a need to tell us over and over again that they were a doctor and architect respectively as if we didn't get it the first time they told us. Must be a pride thing I suppose, well good for them. No doubt I repeat myself too a lot. Rolando who I keep referring to as Ronaldo,  needed a large table in his room for all his plans. Eladio of course obliged. Oh this house is so international and diverse. Wouldn't my dear mother approve? Of course she would and as is very clear, I am following in her footsteps.

The rest of the day on Monday was pretty much our normal routine, so I wont' repeat it here. It was also sort of routine for Theresa May - nearly wrote Margaret Thatcher there (Freudian slip) - but it went wrong. The Speaker in Parliament, John Bercow threw her plans into doubt when he rejected a third vote on her more or less same deal. So what will happen now? A longer extension of Article 50, a people's vote, i.e. a second referendum or even general elections? I would not like to be in her shoes and what a mess she has made of Brexit. 

Tuesday was Fathers' Day in Spain. 19th March is St. Joseph's saint's day, hence the celebration of Fathers' day as he was the father of Jesus. I only realised it was when the girls sent greetings to their father, my dear husband Eladio. I was not brought up either to celebrate Mothering Sunday or Fathers' Day in England. There was no tradition for it in my family. Thus I didn't say anything to my own father. In any case it's on a different day in England. Suzy had sent a special photo to Eladio. Here it is. It's one I took of her on one of her visits home a year or so ago. Eladio deserved their greetings as they could not have a better father I can tell you.

Suzy's Fathers' Day card to her father 

For me Tuesday  felt like working in a travel agency.  Eladio does not share my deep feelings and interest in my father's family and ancestors although he admires my work. So when I showed him the possible programme for our trip to the UK, Wales and Ireland,  he let me know that visiting so many graves and churches was not really his thing. Of course it isn't. It wouldn't be mine if it was his family. Thus I had to re work the programme. In the end we shall stay for 4 nights in Yorkshire where we will visit Sledmere, my grandfather's 2nd parish as a vicar and of course do the things we like in Yorkshire, such as visiting the Dales.  After that we shall drive to the Bristol Bath area and stay in a delightful cottage in the South Cotswolds. It's a great location to visit all sorts of interesting places but of course it's not too far from Bristol or Weston-super-Mare, two more locations in my family history. To compensate for visiting so many churches and graves, I shall show Eladio the local sites. On the agenda are Bath, Trowbridge, Chippenham, Castle Combe and other pretty villages in the Cotswolds as well as possibly Stonehenge and Salisbury. We shall stay there at a beautiful looking self catering Airbnb cottage for 6 nights and then drive to Anglesey in Wales where my grandfather and all his family were from.  Here we will stay for 4 nights at another  lovely Airbnb cottage just by the Menai Strait, more or less a stone's throw from my grandfather's first parish as a curate in Llanfairpwllgwyngyll or Llanfairpwll as it is more often called.  A must during our time in Wales is to climb to the top of Snowdon, the UK's highest mountain which is actually not very high (1.085m). My friend Joanne sent me the link to the Snowdonia railway which looks charming. Perhaps we can walk up and then take the train down. The final part of our trip will be to take the ferry to Dublin where we shall stay for 3 nights in a delightful looking bed and breakfast in the centre of the city. I can't wait to see "Dublin's fair city".  It will be fun too to experience Airbnb as a guest this time and not a host.

There is a quite a lot of logistics in planning a trip like this but by the end of the day I had booked our flights, the rental car, the accommodation and only  have to get the ferry tickets now. I later showed the programme (yes I write out travel programmes when we go on holiday) to my father. He was happy to hear where we were going. I commented I would love to take him with me. He sweetly replied it didn't matter as he had already been to all these places. I assured him he would get a post card from me from every relevant place I visit that has to do with his family.

I seemed to spend most of the day at my desk on Tuesday only getting up to have lunch with my husband and father.  I carried on into the afternoon until about 4.30 when Rolando, our Bolivian Airbnb guest arrived. He came by taxi and had brought 3 huge suitcases. Lucy and I helped him up to his room, Suzy's room which he loved. He had booked for 7 nights and while I was showing him the kitchen he said he loved the house so much he wanted to stay here for the 3 months he would be working on a project in Spain. I only wish I had a room to offer him but they are all booked on and off in the next 3 months, so I could only offer him one extra night. I have had to refuse quite a few enquiries over the past few days because we are pretty much fully booked until the end of June. If only I had more rooms. I wish I could use Oli's room but she refuses to let me rent it  hahaha.  He must be about 60 and is a very well spoken person. He is Bolivian but  speaks very clear and pleasant Spanish. Usually it is difficult to understand some people from South America as their accents and often the vocabulary are very different to Castilian Spanish. His daughters live in nearby Boadilla with their mother from who he is divorced and that is why he chose our location. We are just 1.5km from where they live. However, he has no car, and is using taxis, hopefully Uber when he manages to create an account.

Later on our walk, both Eladio and I once again commented on how international our house is. I mean right now we have Andy from Scotland, Rolando from Bolivia, Lucy from Paraguay, my father who is English, my husband who is Spanish. Then of course there is me and I am half English and half Russian. We laughed that there was no way this could happen if it hadn't been for Eladio marrying me. It's such fun.

That night I had an email from Barry H, my new found friend from Anglesey, you know, my unofficial researcher in the quest to find information about my father's Welsh part of the family. He wrote to tell me he had found my grandfather's youngest brother Owen Noel Lloyd's grave, as well as his parents, my great grandparents, William Fox Lloyd senior and Marian Margaret Collins. What a gesture from him, to find their records, their graves, to visit them and then send me the photos. I can't thank the man enough. The inscription on my youngest great Uncle's grave had faded but Barry told me he could just make out his date of birth. It was Christmas Day in 1899 not January 1900 as we had thought. Hence, of course, his name: Noel. Just how touching is that? I loved that nugget of news which I immediately added to the biography.  Later Andy was able to make out the inscription which says: "In loving memory of Noel, beloved youngest son of William and Marian Fox Lloyd, Alderley Terrace. Born Christmas Day 1899. Died 24th October 1918. On the base it looks like it might say; "thy will be done". How sad. Here is his grave which I look forward to visiting when we go to Angelsey in June.

Owen Noel Lloyd's grave in Anglesey

Barry also sent me the link to order my father's service record in WW2. Andy had already ordered my grandfather's which will arrive early in April and hopefully not too late to add to the biography. Ordering my father's via the MOD and the RN was no easy task. Because of Data Protection they needed all sorts of proof of identity, both mine and his. Mine was needed as I was acting on the "Data Subject's behalf". But I managed it and sent off the request. I have no idea how long that will take.

If my grandfather could rise from his grave, he would be astonished at the work I am doing to find out about his life and that of his family and ancestors. Oh, how I wish he hadn't died when I was so young - just 4. I do remember him but if he had lived longer I would have known him better and no doubt he would have told me the story of Noel and other members of his family. I would have been particularly interested in his Uncle David John Collins and his Aunt Emily Collins, née Pemberton. I just hope he would be pleased too. In all this research I have come closer to him and think he must have been a wonderful man. From all accounts he was.

He and the other family members are in my head all the time. As Andy said to me that day "this is very deep for you" and how right he is. It has become a passion. But life continues and I had to make our dinner and go through all the motions to get ready for bed. That night we watched another episode of Secrets of State on Amazon Prime.

I woke up on Wednesday morning feeling all ready to go, as usual. My energy seems boundless. That day I would start rolling the ball for a school reunion dinner in Yorkshire when we go with my friends from St. Joseph's College. That would be something else I would have to get my teeth into. Ah but I had something more important to do before that and it was for my company Adamo.  A journalist wanted to write a story on  fiber networks in  rural areas of Spain. That would keep me busy for quite a while in the morning. I wrote up some proposed answers to his questions, sent them off to my Swedish boss Fredrik and a short while later had his feedback. Not long afterwards my journalist had all the information he needed. He later thanked me for my very prompt reply. Journalists work to a tight schedule and when I get a request I have to work on it as fast as possible. Let's see how Adamo comes out in his article.

It was once again Emily Pemberton who would occupy my day. Aunty Emily has now appeared in my last three posts, so you will be familiar with her. She was the wife of David John Collins, the Uncle who is famous in our family for his medals from the King of Siam (Thailand) for his surveyor work there in the 19th century. We knew he had married Ellen Emily Pemberton. We found out she was quite a famous botanist, sending specimens to Kew Gardens and that she had been awarded an MBE. We even found out who her father was, Colonel Wiliam Walker George Pemberton of Canadian origin. At the time of Emily's birth in Burma, he was the Deputy Commissioner, 4th Grade, of British Burma. He married a lady called Adele Isabelle Sandfield MacDonald in April 1874 in Kensington, London. They had 6 children but none of these children was Emily. So who was her mother? My father had always told me that he thought Aunty Emily was half Burmese but we had no proof. She certainly looks like she might be from the only photo of her we have. In it she is sitting in her lounge of their town house, Collinston  (i.e. Collins' Town, after her husband's surname, Collins)  in Bangkok wearing her MBE medal.

The mysterious Ellen Emily Collins née Pemberton in her town house, Collinston, in Bankgok which she donated to the British Government upon her death in 1945. It was later used for a while as the British Embassy.

We came to a dead end in the search for her mother. Andy, my genealogist, had a contact at the British Library to whom he wrote  to see if they could help. It was a good move as it was the British Library in London who found her records. This is what the curator for the East India Company records wrote to us: "We have a baptism entry for Emily Pemberton which states that she was born on 4th September 1858 and baptised in Moulmain 12th April 1865. It gives her parents as W.W. Pemberton and "a Burmese woman named Ma-Miggaley". From the way in which the baptism entry is written and the fact I have not been able to find a marriage entry, I would assume they were unmarried". Gosh so our most illustrious descendant was born out of wedlock and was what would have horribly been called a half caste in those days. The curator went on to say as an explanation for that fact: "It was not uncommon for officials in India and Burma to have a local wife. However, unless the wife converted to Christianity there tends to be no record of their marriage and local marriage that may have taken place was not recognised as legally binding by the British government".

So finally we knew that Aunt Emily's mother was indeed Burmese as my father had thought. Thanks to the British Library we now know her name was Ma-Miggaley. How bigoted society was in those days. However, her father, Colonel W.G. Walker, educated his daughter which deserves some credit. But who would have thought that with those beginnings, Elian Emily Collins née Pemberton, would become a big name in botany, be awarded an MBE and go on to be our most illustrious ancestor? I am delighted for her but I do wish we knew more about her mother. What a story.

Part of the afternoon was spent on the administrative part of my job as a freelance. It's such a bore issuing invoices and collecting receipts, etc but it has to be done. I finished that task and then updated my Airbnb guest file. I have had so many bookings recently that I had to put it in order. So later, almost free of this tiring part of my work, I joined Eladio and the dogs on our daily work. I desperately needed a break from my desk and some fresh air. I got it.

It was about 19.40 when we were reaching home and how light it was. A big full moon was out too making for a beautiful sky. We were both hungry for dinner and made one of our favourite salads; tuna with different types of lettuce, tomatoes, avocado, spring onion and pumpkin seeds.

That night I was too tired to be able to watch any TV, drifting into and out of sleep. I think I managed about 4 uninterrupted hours of sleep after which I kept waking up and going back to sleep. I finally got up at 6.15. I do moan a lot about my sleeping problems don't I? Sorry my friends.

Thursday was supposed to be a day with not much to do hahah but of course it wasn't. I wrote out a list of things to do. One of the items had been on previous lists but it wasn't until that day that I got down to examining all the documents I had on Uncle David's White Elephant medals.  If you remember, Uncle David, the husband of Emily Pemberton. These were awarded to him in 1897 from King Mongkut of Siam for his outstanding work in the surveying department of the Siamese Government.  I gleaned lots more information from them and so once again had to update the biography. I must be driving my editor, Amanda, mad, as each day she gets an updated version.

When I examined the papers I saw that “Uncle David” had been awarded the Insignia of the Order of the Crown of Siam of the Third Class as well as the Insignia of the White Elephant of the 4^th Class. Both were conferred by King Mongkut of Siam in 1897 and are signed by him. The scrolls are hand painted as are the envelopes and are absolutely beautiful. I have been told they are of  historic value so I must frame them. 

One of the beautiful scrolls with the insignia of the White Elephant order signed by the King of Siam.

Then there is a letter to my great great Uncle from the Ambassador in Bangkok. It was from George Greville KCMG who refers to himself as “HMM” (Her Majesty’s Minister) and dated August 24^th 1897 to authorize the recipient to accept and wear the insignias.  This is a letter the Ambassador sent “upon instructions from Lord Salisbury” who was the Prime Minister at the time and during the Reign of Queen Victoria. It reads: “Sir, with reference to your letter to Mr. Archer of the 9^th April last, and in accordance with instructions from Lord Salisbury, I transmit to you herewith, Her Majesty’s License authorizing you to accept and wear the Insignia of the Order of the “While Elephant” of the 4^th Class and the Order of Siam, of the 3^rd Class, conferred upon you by the King of Siam. I am, Sir, your obedient servant, HMM Resident George Greville”. I particularly like the reference to Lord Salisbury. For me it is history coming alive. 

Letter from the Ambassador to Uncle David 

The letter attaches the license from “The Court of King James” to allow the recipient to wear the insignias and includes a hand written paragraph explaining them: “His Majesty the King of Siam has been pleased to confer upon you the Insignia of the Order of the Crown of Siam of the Third Class in recognition of your services while actually and entirely employed  beyond Our Dominions in the Survey Department of the Siamese Government”. 

It seems that every week I update you on more findings about my father's ancestors. At the same time I feel I am bringing them back to life.

Other things went on that day. In Brussels, Teresa May was in talks with the leaders of the 27 EU countries to beg for an extension to the Article 50 leaving period. She wanted it to be extended to the end of June. That wouldn't be possible as it would mean the UK would have to take part in the EU elections. At the end of the day, the EU member states agreed to the UK leaving date as 22nd May but only under the condition that the UK Parliament votes for the leaving deal. The leaving deal has been voted against twice so there is not much likelihood of it being passed the third time round. It seems to me that Teresa May is at the end of the road and in deadlock over Brexit. What a mess.

On a much lighter and happier note, that day Oli asked me for a photo of her when she was aged 4. I wondered why but happily provided her with one from our many family albums. It was for a twitter campaign for a much loved family series in Spain called "Cuéntame". It is the story of a typical working class family which started in the 60's. The series has now reached 1989. On twitter people were invited to send in photos of themselves in 1989 and today, 30 years later. My gosh, 30 years ago I was just 32, nearly 2 years younger than Olivia now who will turn 34 in May. Here she is aged 4 wearing pink beach jelly shoes and yesterday standing at work in the very same posture. She looks the same, except that the photo on the left is a mini version of herself when she was small. She was so cute and has grown into a stunningly beautiful woman.

Oli, left aged 4 in 1989 and Oli, right, about to turn 34. Isn't she lovely?

In the afternoon, I put my foot down and was determined not to work at my pc. It was a lovely sunny day and after an impossible to sleep short siesta, I got up and decided to read by the swimming pool terrace. There I read a few more chapters of Mary Churchill's biography. I have reached the part where her father, Sir. Winston Churchill, becomes Prime Minister just after WW2 had started. I am loving it and only wish I had more time to read it.

Later we would go on our walk, again in sunshine.  It was the first day of spring and signs of it were all around. However, there is no sign of rain here and it looks like the whole of March, at least in the Madrid area, will be bereft of it. There is no need to tell you about the rest of Thursday as we followed our normal routine and you can guess how it ended. We are very much creatures of habit aren't we?

Friday came, the end of the week. How fast it has gone past. Once again that day I gleaned more information for my father's biography. That day Barry mailed me none less than my grandfather's Sunday School marks from 1903 as well as his youngest brother Noel's Junior Certificate results of 1908. Noel got a distinction in French so there is no doubt that being good at languages runs in the family. That day I also researched into my grandfather's choral scholarship as a boy at New College Oxford. I knew he had a good voice but know nothing of his time away in Oxford. The Welsh are well known for their love of rugby but of singing too and sometimes Wales is called "the land of song". What an honour for my grandfather and his family to be given this scholarship. No doubt the education at New College School set him up for life. He would have been there from the age of 7 to about 13 when boys' voices break. I can't wait to get a reply from the University College.

I spoke about this to my father at lunchtime. I also quizzed him on whether the family spoke Welsh at home. He was adamant they didn't and that his father had only learned it at Sunday School. Barry, who is from Holyhead, thinks otherwise, citing as confirmation that the family is listed as bilingual on the local census. He also says the church they attended, St. Cybi's is only Welsh speaking. I think they were probably very fluent in Welsh but that their mother tongue was English. On the subject of his family from Anglesey, my father told me that he would holiday there in the summers as a boy and that the beach they would go to was called Trearddur. He said it was very beautiful. It is now on my bucket list of things to do when we go there in June.

While I was busy updating the biography with all this new information, Eladio was doing something far more practical. After a little coaxing from me, he had finally got down to painting the scruffy garden walls. He was motivated by the good weather I'm sure as it's far easier to paint outside when its dry. He spent all morning doing it and would continue the next day and no doubt he will continue next week as there are walls all around the house. He's such an all rounder my husband. He is a great father, life long friend and husband but also a jack of all trades and a great all rounder. He may be a philosopher but he has his feet firmly on the ground and is good at practical things.  I think the job he is doing deserves a lot of praise. So this week he will be in the feature photo of my blog post. Isn't he wonderful? Ah and here is one I caught of him unawares.

Eladio busy painting the walls in the garden

Olivia was busy too but doing something very different. That day saw her in the town of Almaraz in Cáceres, nearly 200km from Madrid. Almaraz is famous for its nuclear power station. On Friday it was announced that it would stay open until 2028. The local community depends on its existence but it has its detractors too. That would be the news of the day for her programme. Later we watched her live on TV reporting on the news.

Oli reporting from Almaraz on Friday

I don't talk much about Suzy in my blog. That's not out of choice, it's because she is so far, she doesn't send photos and we don't talk as often as we should on the phone. However, on Friday, after lunch we made up for that big time and spoke for over an hour. She even spoke to my father who waved to her during the video call fascinated by today's technology. We spoke mostly about her upcoming stay with us when she comes at the end of May. What a luxury, she will be here for about 6 months or more. We have lots of plans.

The day ended with a very late dinner at Ginos. It was late because we had to wait for poor tired Oli who had to travel back from Almaraz. Thus we didn't sit down to eat until about 10 pm. which is very late for us. But I loved our meal and  the break in my diet of most days of the week. Oh the plate of pasta was divine as was the sparkling rose lambrusco wine and ice cream we had for dessert.

Saturday came and I think it was the laziest day of the week. I was up at 5.45 and would feel tired most of the day. Straight after breakfast I headed for my study, Pippa at my heels. I was eager to add the latest amendments to the biography which I would then email to Amanda. Thankfully she is very organised and is coping well with all my changes. By 8 I was up in the kitchen and preparing our lunch - cocido madrileño - very much a winter dish but a favourite with us. I've often mentioned it in this blog but for reminders the main ingredients are: chickpeas, various types of meat bones, a piece of gammon, a chicken leg, braising beef on a bone and very important some chorizo. All this goes into a great big pot full of vegetable water. Towards the end, when everything is cooked and it can take over 2 hours, I added the vegetables. Usually that would have been a bit of cabbage, some carrots and potatoes. When all is cooked you leave it to stand for quite a while. Then begins the work of separating the broth from the solid ingredients. In the end what you have is a saucepan of broth and a large plate with the solid ingredients. The broth gets turned into soup by adding thin noodles and is eaten as the first course.  Just to give you an idea of what it looks like in the end, here is a photo I found on internet.

Cocido madrileño (not mine)

We would enjoy it over a family lunch with Olivia with us to brighten up our lives. Meanwhile our guests, Andy, our Scottish lodger and Rolando with his two small daughters he had brought to spend the day, were in the kitchen having their lunch. I gave Andy a portion of my "cocido" which he loved.

Later it was time for the 3 o'clock news. By that time hundreds of thousands of people, some say up to a million, were marching in London calling for another EU referendum. It was organised by the Put it to the People campaign. I don't like demonstrations, mostly because I hate crowds, but I was there in spirit. I don't know if anything will come of it. I mean 1 million people is a lot but the population of the UK is well over 60 million. Besides, Teresa May is against a second referendum. Next week may be the final chapter in what happens to Brexit in the short term and I shall be watching closely. What a horror story.

Saturday's march in London calling for a second referendum

While the people were marching, I fell asleep watching the news. Normally I can't sleep a siesta but yesterday I did and until 5 o'clock.  I came downstairs and went outside and that was when I saw Zena, our Ukrainian weekend home help and my father's carer, doing Eladio's painting job. Nobody had asked her to do it, she just volunteered. Here she is painting the steps.

Zena painting on Saturday

Zena really is a master of all trades. She has been our cleaning lady - my mother used to call cleaning ladies, "char women" - for over 20 years and has become a friend. When Eladio came down he was flabbergasted to see her but soon joined her and later the two of them were painting the walls where the rose bushes are, something he had previously said he couldn't do as he didn't have the material. I was overjoyed as finally the garden walls will look clean and white and make a great contrast to the green of the garden. Here they are at the job.

Eladio had help from Zena yesterday painting the garden walls

Feeling slightly guilty for not helping, I went back into the house and to my desk but not for long. I later went upstairs to read my book and rest. We changed routine yesterday and did not go on our walk. So for me it was rather a lazy day.

Oli had gone out with her friend Elenita to see the latest Pedro Almodovar film, Dolor y Gloria. I want to see it too but my husband is not keen.

That evening our Amazon fire stick broke down; the screen froze and the remote wouldn't work. I tried rebooting it several times to no avail. Thus I had to call Amazon customer care. I tried all the tricks I was told to try but there was no response. In the end they will be sending a replacement stick which will arrive next Thursday. That means no Netflix or Amazon Prime until then. Eladio didn't mind as Spain was playing Norway last night. I had no interest in the match which Spain won by the way (2-1) and read my book. I think I fell asleep at about 10.30.

This morning I was up at 5.45 but had had a relatively good night's sleep. And now I am at my desk once again finishing writing this week's post.

Hopefully we shall have another quiet and lazy day today. I will need it to recharge my batteries for whatever faces me in the coming week.

So, my friends, that's it for this week. Wishing you all the very best, cheers until next Sunday,

Masha

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