Maintaining Bridges

Some may have seen comments on my past Blips about a girl (early 40's) from Sussex and living in Hampshire: Pep or in full Pepita-Louise Brooks. I came across her on Facebook in March 2016 while trying to research an illness "Myeloma" which the husband of a friend had contracted.

This evening I learnt that she had passed away. It was too late to get a photo that was appropriate for this amazing lady, a source of strength to hundreds of victims and their loved ones who were suffering from this wicked illness. Over the last 18 months, I have followed her progress on Facebook: not a word of giving up, just day for day fighting this disease with unbelievable humour and sending messages of hope and comfort to others. And it wasn't simple standard platitudes or sentimental nonsense. Firstly she knew technically what she was talking about but also a straight out, kick arse style that forced one to laugh even in the darkest moments and even when she was personally suffering great pain and anxieties herself. If ever I am asked to nominate a saint, Pep would be it.

As someone else wrote today on Facebook: "Hope the others in heaven are prepared for what is about to hit them". I and many hundreds of "anonymous" social network friends will miss her deeply. RIP Pep.
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The photo was taken just after leaving the house on foot to do the morning dog walk. Jeep still at the garage and so no chance of getting further afield. Had a chat with the council worker who was clearing the drain on the bridge. He had the grille and much of the muck out but was fighting with the big bolt at the bottom which would allow him to clear out the pipe letting the filtered water in to the stream. Tools he had wouldn't fit and were "toys" for the force needed. All metal parts are naturally subjected to everything water and salt can throw at them. And then there were metric, imperial, Whitworth sizes to contend with.

After the walk was out in the fields repairing fences our totally insensitive mare Rosie ignores in Autumn when there is only ever greener grass on the other side. Suddenly heard a car horn from the house. Initially thought it was Angie returning from shopping wanting me to unload the car. Strolled up and then from a distance saw the Jeep and couldn't believe my eyes to spot from 50 metres the little sticker on the rear numberplate that showed it had passed it's MOT.

And there was Nero - "hurry up and drive me back to the garage" and throwing off my "how on earth did you manage that" remarks with a shrug of the shoulders and self assured, matter of course style he has.

At the garage, the Brexit discussion from Tuesday restarted, the eldest of the mechanics who had said little then, saying he had done a lot of work with the British Army in the 80's in northern Germany on maintaining brake testing equipment for their vehicles and recalling the humour of the Sergeant responsible for the workshops. He stills has his British Military pass from back then to get him in on to the camps. He has also worked in Ireland both south in the Shannon area and north in Belfast and recounted what a great time he had there.

So a good day until I read the news of Pep in the evening but as she would want I finish on a happy note, rejoicing her life