Barmy Blue's Bland Blog

Is there still a word limit to this thing? I hope not. I’ve got a lot to say. It’s been so long since I blogged you’ve all probably forgotten me so let me reintroduce myself.
My name’s Bluebiird but you can call me Blue however, if you ever say my name aloud I’ve decided that the second ‘i’ is silent (I say that because every time Sara says my email address it always sounds funny, so I’ve decided the second ‘i’ is silent ), I’m 21 years old and I’m just finishing my second of three years at university (no I wont tell you which one), I study Creative Writing and English Literature (I have to say, I regret doing literature), I’m English (not British, English. There’s a difference, I am told. British is when you are two or more parts of the UK. English is when you are from England and nowhere else in the UK (The same applies to Scottish, Irish and Welsh)).
Now, you last heard from me in late February after my uncle died and around Christmas before that. So, sad stuff out of the way first. Okay, I’m pretty sure it was a Wednesday we got the news because my Dad and uncle went out on the Thursday still. I know this because it was a JCS night. I called him as usual (I do that on Thursdays while I’m waiting for the JCs). I was quite sad and I realised that all I really really wanted to do was spend some time with my friends (my little group in the JCS) and I did. We spent the evening origami folding and just having fun. They’d brought origami paper just for the job, it’s the first time I’ve used origami paper. Sara tried to make a Whale but messed it up so she drew a face on it and called it Dumbledore. I showed off by later making a whale *smug* . They printed the instructions from the internet and a few days before Sara and I were discussing it in class and I asked if we’d be folding cranes (that’s my forte. I’m the only member of the Japanese Cultural Society who can fold origami cranes) and she said she’d put a crane in just for me it was one of the most complex, 20 or so folds. I was the first one to fold a dove. Ripton kept trying and failing so I gave it a go. It took me a while to get it right (the instructions weren’t clear) but I got there in the end. Then I had to show him and Anna how to do it. Then Ripton started working on a secret project that he wouldn’t tell anyone about. At the end of the evening it turned out that he was making a little R2 D2. I also helped Anna to fold a paper crane (she’d done it very wrong so it had two heads). It was a lot of fun. About 2-3 weeks later we had the funeral, on a Friday. It meant I had to miss a lesson but it wasn’t a very good lesson (I asked Sara about it the next day, I hadn’t really missed anything). Mum drove us to work and dad met us there with his other bother (the living one) mum always had trouble getting in and out of my dad’s truck. We stopped at motorway services for a sandwich for me and a cup of tea and a car charger for mum (she was expecting a text from one of her friends about a meeting on Saturday). We got to the Isle of Wight in good time. When we got there my uncle settled down in an armchair to smoke. Dad showed us around a bit. Mum bought some sticks of rock (dad had to give her the money though because she hadn’t brought her purse). We made dad take a detour so we could put the rock in his truck because it wouldn’t be respectful to go back with it. He didn’t get it, of course. More people turned up, and lit up (a lot of dad’s family, and their friends smoke). Originally the first thing I wanted was to spend time with my friends. I did that. The next thing on my agenda was to give my aunt a hug and I did this when the hearse arrived. I didn’t actually know it at the time though, I had my back to the window. All I knew was that she got sad so I gave her a hug.
The coffin was white with Tottenham Hotspur on it (they were his team, my dad’s too. My other uncle’s team is Arsenal) We drove over The Downs (apparently he liked driving over The Downs) lovely scenery, the sun came out too, only bit of sun all week. Throughout the whole thing I was determined not to cry, but I put a tissue in my pocket so I could whip it out if my aunt got upset (she had her sister to comfort her, so she didn’t need it). I wasn’t really, overly sad until the hymn, it goes “Glory, glory hallelujah!”. To everyone’s surprise my dad sang the Tottenham version, “Glory, glory Tottenham Hotspur!” loudly (he isn’t loud, at all). I was standing right next to him so I could hear his voice wavering and it nearly made me burst into tears. I was determined not to cry so I held it in very tightly (side effect of that is I haven’t been able to cry since). The woman behind us (I don’t know what she is in relation to my uncle) started crying so I gave her my tissue. The vicar was so impressed by dad’s improvisation we sang the chorus again. Dad’s excuse afterwards was that everyone was singing the wrong words (and his brother would’ve liked it). After the service I gave him a hug but he was back to his usual self. Afterwards it was back to the house and the constant inhalation of smoke. Eventually it got too much for me so I went out for a walk with mum. We passed a shop with knitting supplies (I’ve wanted to start knitting again for a few years (I knew how when I was little but I forgot)) So I got some wool and needles (I had just enough money in my purse). I decided to knit a scarf for my dad. We got back to the smoke filled house again.
As we were leaving my aunt demanded I make her some more cinnamon cookies (I sent them some from a batch I made at Christmas when dad went to visit them at Christmas). I tried knitting on the way back but when it got too dark I had to stop. Then I dozed off for half an hour or so.

I have more to say but I’m tired.
Bluebiird out.