Moving Down To Oxted - Only 24 hours Left

My initial plans were to leave Sheringham tomorrow (Tuesday June 22nd) and make my way to Norwich, on to London Liverpool St station, take the Underground to Paddington station, and catch the Heathrow Connect out to Heathrow Airport.  However, the trip from Sheringham to Norwich was an hour, Norwich to London Liverpool St another 2 hours.  If I missed a connection, I would be arriving too close to my flight time of 15:30.  So I decided a couple of weeks ago that I would make my way down to Oxted today so that I would have lots of trains (every 20 minutes) that would take me into London Victoria station and a quick trip on the Circle Line to Paddington station.  This way, I wouldn't be hassled in trying to make it to the airport.

I was up and out of Camberley House which has been my base of operations by 9:00 to drag my suitcase, carry bag and baby laptop up and down the streets of Sheringham and over to the train station.  As I had arrived early, I went into the news stand across the street to pick up my supply of Sudoku puzzles to do while waiting for trains.

Just as I came out of the news stand, I ran into Bob from the Weybourne shops who had just returned from the doctors for a checkup to his hand/ arm.  Last Wednesday (while I was in York), Bob had been using an angle grinder with a wire wheel on it when it slipped out of his hands.  The trigger on the grinder was one of those that kept the grinder spinning instead of turning off the motor when your grip was released.  Needless to say, with the wire wheel still spinning, and not wearing any gloves, especially leather welder's gloves with the large cuffs, a good part of the back of his hand was instantly converted into hamburger.  He immediately had an angina attack which required a trip to the hospital in Norwich.

It took 18 stitches with the possibility of skin grafts to put the back of his hand back together.  I had left my own welder's gloves behind just for Bob with my pair of Home Hardware work gloves for Roger.  After a short chat in which we wished each other the best of luck and the possibility that we might see each other in a couple of years, I made my way to the station platform and boarded the train to Norwich. 

The train to London Liverpool St station was just pulling in as we arrived in Norwich so it was a quick scoot from Platform 4 to Platform 2.  It was an uneventful trip into London, except that I was now wheeling a 30kg fully loaded suitcase, a 15 kg carry bag and a 5 kg laptop with bag which made it a bit awkward going up and down the steps of the London Underground.  I made my way down the steps to the Underground at Liverpool St station (love that Oyster card!) to catch the eastbound Underground tube train to London Victoria train station.  I had gotten into the habit of buying my train tickets in advance of my trip so that I didn't have to line up to buy tickets, worrying that I might miss the next train. And I also saved money when buying an advance ticket.  In this case, I had bought my London Victoria to Oxted return tickets on the train from Sheringham.  This cost me £10 return compared to £9 one-way during morning rush hour if I had bought the ticket in Oxted the next morning. 

I caught the 14:23 train to Oxted, arriving 35 minutes later.  It was a quick taxi trip up Grenville road to The Mead B&B where I immediately left my luggage and returned to the centre of the village and down to the graveyard where my great-grandparents are buried.

The ferns had really grown since my last visit of 3 weeks ago and had completely hidden the grave stones.  I had brought along some "weed juice" and a watering can spout to look after these ferns. Two watering cans were sitting by the tap filled with water.  A few ounces of juice in each can and we started to "water" the ferns.  Unfortunately the tap in the graveyard wasn't working so this required a trip to the council graveyard next door.  Given the state of the graveyard and the lack of response I've gotten from the church, I think I'll have to do a news article for the local newspaper to see if I can garner some support and action to clean up the graveyard.

I'm off to Woldingham in about an hour for dinner with John Odlin who is the current owner of 1 Welcome Cottage, the place where my grandparents and my mother lived for so long.  It will be interesting to see the inside of the house and to see if I can remember what the rooms looked like.  The last time I was in the house was in the summer of 1952 when I was all of 6 years old.  I do remember coming down with the mumps and having to chew gum so that my jaws wouldn't freeze up.  Boy, did that ever hurt. 

My grandfather, Albert Bicknell, kept bees and chickens  to supplement their income.  I can remember all kinds of honey combs and honey equipment in the rooms where my brother, Ed, and I would sleep.  There's nothing sweeter than sucking the honey out of a honey comb, complete with the bees' wax, and then spitting the ball of wax that you are making in your mouth while you're sucking the honey out of the comb.  The fox used to get into the hen house from time to time which would create real havoc.  My grandfather also used to keep rabbits and I can remember holding them.  Which is probably why, two years later, I ended up having rabbits (along with a cat) as pets.