Not the usual Pickle

This is Isabella, Conrad and Jade's daughter. I bumped into them earlier in the Linton Kitchen. Nice to see a lovely smiley little face.

Until I was 9 we lived in Carlisle. Like most children of my generation when we were not at school we were out playing. We would roam far and wide all around. There were lots of bits of open land like 'Bushy Bank' where we would play and some days we played in one of the many abandoned industrial sites like the Brickie.

The Brickie was an abandoned brick works on Durdar road, next to local park Hammonds Pond (the pond being the result of the hole they dug to get the sand to make the bricks). Anyway we spent hours in the Brickie, mainly playing war games, Not caring for one jot about the piles of machinery, broken glass, bits of sharp rusty iron, strange smelling puddles and the slow muddy beck that I remember for having a dead cat in it one day. I'm sure from the odd condom and dog eared jazz mags that there were others using the Brickie but at 8 years old we did not care.  We were soldiers, or maybe the Professionals, and certainly Starsky and Hutch. I've thought of it occasionally over the years.

In 1990 the owners donated the land and the Eden Valley Hospice was built on the site. Today, on my sisters 52nd birthday my dad was admitted. His condition has deteriorated and although my mother has been doing a sterling job of looking after him it is getting to the point where she is running herself into the ground and needs a break. So he's gone in for a couple of weeks for respite. They have already changed his medication, and will hopefully be able to make him comfortable.

It was a very difficult decision for my mother ( she feels terribly guilty) but it is the right thing for both of them. I take a little comfort from the fact that Dad has had ham egg and chips for dinner and is now going to bed in a place where an 8 year old me used to shoot Germans.