h2g2 The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy: Earth Edition

I phone my mother every evening - unless we are going out or I am otherwise busy, but even then I'll phone her from my mobile in the interval or between courses if I can.

Since my last visit in mid-November we have spoken about Christmas every day - I bought her a sheet of stamps and we got some Christmas cards and I left them on the dining table for her to write her Christmas cards. She said every night that she "must write her cards" - and finally got round to it just the week before Christmas! Well, it was something to talk about.

I must have told her a couple of dozen times that my choice of dish for Christmas lunch was beef Wellington and that there would be 6 of us and one toddler at the table. Sometimes three times in the same phone call.

She has now wished me "Happy new Year" about 10 times - and asked me if everything is back to normal after the holidays (I went back to work on 2 Jan!)

It's a relief if I can find something different to talk about - we have had snow to sweep and shovel these last couple of days, for example - to get out of the conversational rut.

Sometimes she laughs and remembers that I had just told her what I was cooking for dinner (I'm afraid I usually phone her whilst I'm getting dinner ready - "What's that noise in the background? Are you doing the washing up?") when she poses the same question less than a minute later.

These conversations are repetitive but not tedious, and they give her mind something to do, and also get her to use her voice. Sometimes she claims she hasn't spoken to anyone all day and has to clear her throat when she answers the phone. Then she will later mention that she had been to the hairdressers that morning or spoken to so-and-so on the phone.

She is otherwise in good health, but she will be 98 in November and I don't even know if I'll still be phoning her next Christmas, so I enjoy these moments all the same.

Booked a flight over to the UK in February so will be seeing her again soon. Also want to take my husband to the "Revolutions" exhibition at the V&A, so I'm dragging him along - as a birthday present for him; his birthday is at the beginning of Feb.

If anyone's read this far, have they seen the exhibition? Several people I know have raved about it, some have even gone along more than once.

I remember years ago my husband used to call his dad early every evening, and I'd say to him "For goodness sake, vary the conversation a bit!". Then when my husband died I took over the role and realised it was easier said than done. If I varied it a bit, I'd either have to repeat myself as my father-in-law was slightly deaf, or else he would answer the question I usually asked at that point in the conversation It didn't take me long to start sticking to the script!

But then it's more about the contact than the actual words spoken, I suppose.

Deb

My father is 97, and almost deaf in one ear. The other ear has maybe half its normal hearing. So, if I don't choose words carefully, he doesn't understand. Maybe he reads lips, though, as he gets most of what I say when he can see my face.

You're right to cherish the conversations, soon enough you won't be bale to have them.

Right - we're off in the morning.

We land at around 2 pm. The flight just HAS to be on time because I've booked us in to the museum and it shuts at 5.15 pm, so we will have one mad dash (with all luggage, which I am strictly limiting to one small backpack each) into town as soon as we hit the ground.

Time-saving precautions I have taken include:

Telling hubbie to bring his passport - using the e-gate could save us a couple of minutes

buying things beforehand which I would normally stop at Boots at the airport and get.

The Stansted Express is the fastest way in to town; whichever way you look at it, have already printed out tickets for that.

Museum tickets are booked and printed out.

The only hold-up will be refilling my Oyster card - mine may have enough cash on it but my son gave me one which he had used back in November, and said it is empty. Hubbie will be using that one. If only I could put cash on that online, that would save another 5 minutes but I'll have to do it at Liverpool Street.

So keep your fingers crossed that trains, tubes and planes are all on time tomorrow. Thank you!

Please excuse the errant semi-colon in the last post. Not like me at all.

My sister wrote me an e-mail yesterday, asking what our plans were. She has now been to the exhibition, too, and said it's great. Hope it won't be too crowded, what with it being half-term and all.

My uncle died a few days ago, he was only 94.

My Father turns 97 today.

Sorry to hear about your uncle, Paul. I hope it was painless and peaceful for him in the end.

I expect that it was. He had a good life. Modern medicine helped make his last years fairly pleasant.

Back home again as of last night. The exhibition really was worth seeing.

In the first room, there was a huge selection of LP covers and some videos of various people making statements about life in the 60s, anarchy, drugs and all that sort of thing. A tribute to John Peel brought me to the verge of tears and the emotional turmoil that was to come.

The subject of the exhibition are the political, social, cultural and scientific developments which all occurred during the coming of age of the baby boomer generation. Peaceful, violent, shocking and breathtaking events were shown in newsreel excerpts and commented on from all points of view. Fashion, music, hairdressing, films, then the Apollo programme, Vietnam and the protests, demonstrations in Paris; the culmination: a huge room with giant screens showing Jimi Hendrix playing at Woodstock.

Seeing all this stuff together in one exhibition like this made me realise that it was due to this revolution which took place between 1966 and about 1974 that our generation learned to question things and not accept the Victorian world of our parents. Even I, who lived a very protected life out in the sticks in East Anglia from 1954 to 1974, could feel that I had been a part of it, especially when the "Wonderful Radio London" jingle came over the headphones. Radio London was all we could listen to back in the day, the reception for BBC Radio being so bad, and anyway, the BBC only played half an hour of pop music a week. On Radio London (and the other pirates, depending on reception quality - Radio Caroline, Radio Veronica and even Radio Luxemburg) we got it round the clock!

I can't imagine American Boomers living under such music restrictions.