Remembering the Moon Landing

Yesterday, the 50th anniversary of the Moon landing. Along with most people who were: a) old enough to be aware of the event, and b) Still young enough to be alive and have ones marbles - I remember where I was at the time: on Isle of Wight ferry out of Portsmouth for Fishbourne. The ferry captain was relaying it through the Tannoy system, so we could hear live broadcasts streaming from Apollo 11. Most summers, I went there to stay with Colin and his family, friends from my first days at University. I used to dream of flying rockets, and was an avid reader of all the children's space adventures, especially Journey to the Moon, serialised on radio each week. My boyhood pastime was to build mock control panels from sheets of paper, covered in dials with movable pointers held by split pin brass paper fasteners. We had no television in London, and I don't remember them having a television on the IoW, so the Captain's relay was all I heard of it.

Looming closer is my first follow-up scan since I was first diagnosed with cancer last summer. I confess to some apprehension, wondering what might be found, or if I'll be given the all clear till the next one. I shall update this bulletin on Tuesday.

Yesterday, we had lunch in the Red Lion, Suffolk's only veggie pub. The grub is good, with a big and varied menu, but the portions were far to large for we two oldies. We both left a good half of the main dish, which besides being such a waste of food, looks as though we're insulting the chef by not eating up. Why oh why can these places not offer smaller portions? We would gladly pay the full price for the joy of finishing a meal without being bloated, or looking wasteful.

Then on to Ipswich Marina, well known to us from our boating days, and still a lovely place to sit in the sun and sup wine. We did notice a disproportionate number of old people on the boats, some quite infirm with sticks. One old couple with a few bags of shopping made a valiant effort to scale the ladder of their huge power boat. It must have been over 40' long, and looked new, costing probably over £250,000. They clearly had spent their savings on it, but could hardly get aboard. The old lady struggled for a while trying to undo the zip of the canvas awning, but had to give way to her husband who finally managed to get into the cabin and help her in. There was a stiff breeze blowing, and the huge freeboard of the boat would be difficult to handle at low speed in the confines of the marina and the Ipswich lock. I would like to have seen them moving the boat, but I can't imagine the woman jumping ashore with the lines, so I guess they just use it as a floating picnic table most of the time.