As long as this is being read in the suggested sequence, the situation with Becky has been covered.
Anne and Peter kindly took me into their home and made me feel most welcome. They have two dogs Skipper and Perry and we got along great from the get go.
Now with her husband Peter they come to my assistance once again.
This was a very difficult time for me. I had to leave behind my friend Son, to whom I had become quite attached and my faithful dog Becky.
Anne and Peter did everything possible to make me feel comfortable. I was given the spare room, with window shown here. The room came with cable T.V. so I was able to stay connected to the U.S. news and other channels. Even with impaired vision I was able to follow, with the audio back up.
Anne drove me around to see some of the familiar sites, but there are so many changes.
The city is serviced with parkways (highways) which all look the same.
Each morning we walk the dogs and being an early riser I go out very early for walks on my own.
Anne and Peter are a very busy couple, with their own projects. Anne is challenged with M.S. so much of her activity is with M.S. organizations on a local and National level. She is also active in choral groups and serves on several committees. Peter has been active with scouts groups and occasional writing reports for the Evening telegraph.
Some Sunday mornings I go with them for church services at the Peterborough Cathedral. What an amazing edifice this is.
Behind the wisteria arch is the orchard area, with a couple of old apple trees, a green house, caravan and new addition, the Library Shed.
After a few weeks, my entrepreneur instincts kick in and I take a bus to the Spalding Wholesale Nursery Market.
I return with wreath frames, moss, statice etc. with a view to making Xmas Wreaths for the approaching festive season.
Courtesy of Anne and Peter I set up shop in their small, currently unused greenhouse. A few weeks later Anne drives me to the Leicester Wholesale Market, with a van packed full of colorful Xmas Wreaths. I was concerned what they really looked like, but Anne assured me they where fine. This was confirmed as buyers tried to buy them as we where unloading onto a trolley, but I had already committed them to a wholesaler in the flower hall.
Anne took me to a store where I was given a white cane. This was a big help, especially with crossing the road, where one begins to rely on the sound of approaching traffic. Holding the white stick out, increases one's chances of a safe crossing and averts most blasting on the car horn.
As Christmas arrived, Anne's Mother came to visit, so the spare room was needed. Back in their day Anne and Peter used to do a lot of caravaning, in fact I hooked up with them on one of my earlier visits to the U.K. So the caravan was brought back into service, which was still filled with all the essentials for day to day living plus an electrical hook up. All the bedding was brought in and warmed up and I was set up with a nice cozy abode.
Much as Anne and Peter made me feel welcome, after awhile one can't help feeling some intrusion on their space, also having my own space was fine, so I enjoyed the caravan. In fact when Anne's Mum left, I was quite happy to extend my caravan trip to nowhere.
But all the free time allowed me to dwell on the inequitable settlement of the property I recently sold. Consequently I made plans to go back to Toronto in Feb. for a short visit to attempt to instigate atonement.
As mentioned in the footnote in the previous chapter the primary objective of the trip proved to be futile, but it was kind of nice to trudge through the snow again, for a short while, not that it has the same appeal without 8ft. of cold steel in front of you. Also a few days with Son was not too hard to take. I felt it would unsettle Becky to visit her, so decided to wait until her quarantine expired.
When I returned to Peterborough, Anne had scooped up my things from the caravan and I was now re installed in the spare room. They would put up with me under their feet, rather than harbour concerns about me, lodged in the caravan.
Now with all hope of just deserts from my Canadian endeavours relinquished, I have to start to examine my options.
In the Spring of 2007 I started to keep myself busy with gardening. The enclosed rear garden gave me much opportunity to stretch my limbs and practice my calling. I often was joined by two little helpers, who especially enjoyed raking or any activity that brought the requisite tool down to barking height.
I also enjoyed going to Sally's and mowing her grass. I am not sure, how it looked when I finished, as I could not see where the previous pass had occurred when starting a new pass, but everyone graciously made like it was fine
I ran into Paul in Oundle one day. He had recently lost his partner of 50 years Maurice. Anne and I attended the funeral, which was held at the St.Peters church, with a full congregation in attendance. They had given up the greengrocers shop several years previously and Paul now does some gardening jobs, to keep things ticking over.
As he was currently over extended work wise, I came over a few days and enjoyed helping him on a few jobs for awhile.
I had some fliers made up, advertising gardening service, distributing them around a specific area of middle class single family homes. This was probably a little foolhardy, given I was having trouble seeing what was a weed and what was a plant.
I know from experience, fliers are a numbers game. So with not too many going out, just one came back. This was a very nice couple, with a large garden, becoming a little overrun. He told me he had being doing all the maintenance himself, but this did not jive as he had inadequate tools (unless he kept them all in the house)
Over a few days I brought the place up to snuff and I think he was quite happy.
As Becky's quarantine period had elapsed, I made arrangements to go to Toronto to bring her over. I booked into a hotel downtown Toronto and made my way to Michael and Maralyn's home. When I walked in, I was in for two poignant shocks.
I was so looking forward to her leaping across to me in excitement as I walked in, instead she just lay at the other side of the room and looked at me. The second jolt was her weight, having packed on several pounds, I was very concerned for her health.
Along with Michael's two dogs, we took the three of them for a walk nearby, but Becky could barely walk. She had shown some weakness in her legs over the past few years and in fact latterly I used to lift her up the 4 ft. into the truck cab. But this increase in her weight was critical.
The hotel where I was staying and had been joined by Son, would not allow dogs. So we booked into a motel in Scarborough, for my remaining few days. Becky started to come around to me, but she was not herself.
I took her to the vet I had known for many years for an assessment and explained her reaction when she saw me after a six month absence. The vet told me I broke her heart when I left her. I don't know if this is the case, but something changed as previously she would be all over me.
I was now having reservations about bringing her to the U.K. in as much as could I give her the care she now obviously needed? This was a terrible dilemma. There is a lady in Toronto that over the years has done wonderful work, helping place dogs in good homes. In fact it was her that somehow weeded me out to ask me to give a home to Merchant and King after I lost Moondog.
She was contacted and Becky was found a new home, thereby removing the complications of relocating her to a new part of the World, with my limited resources to meet her needs.
When I left Canada, forlorn once again, where do I go from here.?
The priority now would appear to be to find my own abode, become familiar with the area and then shoot for the cataract operation on the one goodish eye. If the operation does not work out, at least I will have some idea of what the place looks like and the surrounding area, where I am living.
Anne started researching vacancies and struck out quite quickly. She found a one bedroom, main floor apartment, in a sheltered complex, with "lifeline" and intercom communications. We made a successful application and July 16 2007 I moved in.
That girl worked her socks off.
When we first looked at the apartment, it was redecorated, but totally empty. We toured the local recycle stores and found all the essential furniture and household requisites at extremely good prices. Then when I moved in, all the cupboards where magically filled with everything one could imagine to meet the needs of day to day living.
Her next step was to convince me to adopt a dog. After the disappointment with Becky and the questions with my health I was not too sure about taking on this responsibility. Notwithstanding my reservations, she hauls my butt out to the local dog pound, to review prospects. (Knowing as she does my "Achilles heel")
Of course we see this little mutt, just about jumping out of the cage to get to us, with these big brown eyes. But I held my ground and we left.
Next day we went back and took the little fellow for a trial walk. End of discussion.
Six morning a week we meet up with Anne and Peter, with their two dogs, down by the river embankment.
Skipper and Monty compete for the ball, launched from Anne's ball chucker, with Perry cheering them on.
Paul had some carpet rolled up in a storage area, which he kindly gave to a good cause. So when Monty was suitably trained I installed that in the living room. Then I found some well priced cut offs to cover the hall and the bedroom.
I attempted to integrate into the local community and attended the occasional meetings held at the center here. I was elected to the committee and asked to represent the complex at the Cross Keys Quarterly meetings. But I really found the subject matter quite boring and uninspiring.
Although now an old man myself, I had never mixed with elderly people before and had some difficulty wearing the label. Having always been around younger people, I missed their youthful extemporaneous actions that could often not be predicted.
There was little chance of experiencing that kind of association here in Peterborough, so over time I began to search further afield.
This was not my first trip to Amsterdam, having visited from Canada in the early 90s. But at that time I stayed in a 4 star hotel, this time I had slipped a couple of stars. The city is steeped in History and the people are very friendly and almost all speak English. I don,t care for their weed smoking coffee shops, but their liberalism does extend to Gays.
The weekend turned out pleasant enough, but I did not really find the amity I was looking for. Sometimes too much is expected by the gregarious creatures of the night, often limited by tunnel vision. I would be content to spend some quality time, doing ordinary things with an easy to look at younger compeer. Perhaps I should be looking closer to home. Paul, Maurice and I used to have some fun nights out at Leicester back in the day.
So a couple of months later, I decided to give Leicester a whirl. Not having transport, an overnight stay would be required, with no buses or trains running back late at night. But the clubs would likely run till about 2 or 3 a.m. so I figured I would hang out at a coffee shop for couple of hours, rather than springing the cost of an hotel. I have always had a nocturnal disposition, so this is not a stretch for me.
Like most cities, Leicester has gone through some major changes since we three Oundle lads used to strut our stuff through the big city gay oblations decades ago. In the interim years I had also spent some weekends there on my own, when visiting the U.K, staying at the Holiday Inn.
While some of the old stalwart pubs are still ringing up the cash registers, most notably the Dover Castle, there is a very different face to the Gay Landscape. I found only one gay night club and that appeared to be predominantly gay girls. Not that they don,t have every right to also dance the night away, but this was hardly consonant with my objectives, or theirs.
There are several gay pubs throughout the city, but I wasn't really getting propitious vibes. Maybe I am now too old for this scene and should have stayed at the community center to play Bingo.
At midnight everything started to close down and people drift off either to parties or home. The night club fell silent an hour or so later. So I begin my search for a coffee shop. But I find it absolutely amazing, in this day and age, a city the size of Leicester has no such amenity available anywhere in the city center.
Having traveled through much of the U.S. and Canada, this is something I have never experienced, even in much smaller towns. Every few blocks you will encounter a 24 hour outlet, be it a coffee shop offering coffee, donuts, soups and sandwiches, or MacDonalds or whatever,
In Peterborough I might have expected this. Even the famous Queensgate shopping center is a ghost town after 7.0 p.m. I wonder why have U.K. cities not developed to meet the needs of a diverse society.
With the railway station not even opening until 6.00 a.m. I now have several hours to kill. This turned out to be a long night and I finish up missing Toronto even more.
In the early Spring of 2008, I experience another cardiac incident. I am taken to the Memorial Hospital on Thorpe Rd and remain for one week. While receiving excellent care the cardiologist will not tell me whether it was another heart attack or give me any estimate as to what to expect going forward.
Initially I found the lack of information frustrating, but in hindsight can see the wisdom in his guidance. As previously mentioned, in contrast my Canadian Doctor had told me I might live to 70, following my Canadian cardiac challenges. One is inclined to keep plans very short term, following the expiry date of such a diagnosis.
I had booked to visit Canada again, but cancel due to the uncertain medical situation. A period of depression taking a couple of years to work through ensues. I am not very good at retirement. My doctor arranges for me to go through therapy, which was some help, but I have a ways to go.
Early Summer 2008 I finally just have to undergo the cataract operation. My vision is now quite deliberating. Fortunately it was very successful, so many doors open for me. One of my main problems has been making productive use of my time.
With the return of my visual faculty, I can now explore cybernetics. I purchased a used computer and start to find my way around. A whole new world opens up. We used computers in the business from the 80s on, but I never took the time to learn myself, rather designating this work to others.
I brought a racing cycle and start to retrace the roads of a bygone era. But those hills I knew so well, got a lot steeper since I used to speed up them 40 years ago. I decide to settle for the city cycle paths.
Another activity I desperately miss is driving. This has been a major part of my working life, driving everything from two wheels to eighteen, for a million miles plus. I had always kept my U.K. license up, so only had to arrange a photo update.
Late summer of 08 I rented a van, loaded up camping gear along with Monty and hit the road. First stop was Brighton, gay mecca of Southern England. I could not have picked a worse week end, torrential rain with many campsites washed out.
The big difference I found from driving over here years ago, was where to park. Used to be we could just pull up and park almost anywhere, especially in the country side. Socially the weekend was also a wash out.
A few weeks later with my 70th birthday approaching and this being the cut off age for obtaining insurance for car rental, I tried for a rerun. This time destination Birmingham, result - ditto - ditto. How could I possibly pick the two wettest week ends of the Summer for the denouement of my driving career.
The wooden side gate, helps to contain Monty while I lock the door and peer over the top to assess any potential passers by that may wind him up.