Thursday, 30 June 2011
Good evening...
Pain not so bad this evening. Finally got my clean double duvet cover ironed... ready to change the bedclothes again! Made some lovely carrot, apple, orange and ginger juice with my perfectly adequate £10 juicer from Lloyd's chemist a couple of years back. Thankful for these things to round off my day. Who could ask for more? Loads of us, me included but that's not what a gratitude diary's about ha ha!
Bricks and flora
Well, I went to the church and all of the displays were worth a look. Some were sponsored by local businesses...just inside the door there was a Christening one by some funeral directorsfor instance...interesting.
I particularly liked the ones where they were more than an arrangement of plants with an arrangement of things though...the ones where the colours and shapes of the flowers and foliage themselves had something to with the title of the piece... the golf one in shades of green including pale mint or limey coloured flowers which reminded me of my mum all those years ago in another church looking at another display and saying 'You wouldn't think flowers could be so green!'. There was an arc of sunset colours behind a river scene,representing our estuary view in the evening but my favourites were the watery themed ones with cool blues and frothy white flowerets of spray.
On the way in there was a sign saying that due to industrial action the school choir due to entertain us that afternoon couldn't do so. Not sure whether to be happy or sad about that. I had a cup of tea and a little plate of salad (how strange to be surrounded by cakes and not want some) and admired the inside of the building. Nice rood screen. I love religious architecture...any faith, any style, I'm not fussy, any space for created for celebration and contemplation's fine by me. There were some pretty cool hassocks too...one had a rescue helicopter on!
So, let's hear it for flowers for my number three joy, their exquisitely detailed beauty
And my fourth is magnificent buildings, inside and out. The Alhambra and Sagrada Familia spring to mind, and London's Natural History museum. They are ones I've been lucky enough to see.
I particularly liked the ones where they were more than an arrangement of plants with an arrangement of things though...the ones where the colours and shapes of the flowers and foliage themselves had something to with the title of the piece... the golf one in shades of green including pale mint or limey coloured flowers which reminded me of my mum all those years ago in another church looking at another display and saying 'You wouldn't think flowers could be so green!'. There was an arc of sunset colours behind a river scene,representing our estuary view in the evening but my favourites were the watery themed ones with cool blues and frothy white flowerets of spray.
On the way in there was a sign saying that due to industrial action the school choir due to entertain us that afternoon couldn't do so. Not sure whether to be happy or sad about that. I had a cup of tea and a little plate of salad (how strange to be surrounded by cakes and not want some) and admired the inside of the building. Nice rood screen. I love religious architecture...any faith, any style, I'm not fussy, any space for created for celebration and contemplation's fine by me. There were some pretty cool hassocks too...one had a rescue helicopter on!
So, let's hear it for flowers for my number three joy, their exquisitely detailed beauty
And my fourth is magnificent buildings, inside and out. The Alhambra and Sagrada Familia spring to mind, and London's Natural History museum. They are ones I've been lucky enough to see.
Is it fete?
Ten in the morning still flat out in bed, though I did get up to make a cuppa. I want to go to a flower festival at a local church, I hope it's the kind of thing I remember from childhood...some of the floral art displays then were real works of art. But it's on the same side of town as me and right by the sea so worth an outing anyway. Or will be if I get my act together. It'll be a display of pot pourri at this rate!
When I was a young girl and we lived in more rural places there were village fetes and gymkhanas and little local celebrations of this and that all summer long and all walking distance or a short bus ride away as otherwise not many could attend ha ha! There was always a tombola stall where you bought raffle tickets to win what other people donated, a long sloping cardboard tube that a stuffed sock 'rat' would be sent down for you to try and hit when it came out and a handkerchief girl who wore a plain coloured dress with lots of bordered or embroidered cotton hankies pinned on it for you to choose and buy. Hankies were more of a necessity in those days. Also lived in Derbyshire where they did well dressing. Amazing stuff.
So first thought of thanks for the day is remembering those summer outings of childhood.
And second is to Paper Roses for her comments. Most of the time I have to talk to myself so it's nice to feel that someone's listening to me
When I was a young girl and we lived in more rural places there were village fetes and gymkhanas and little local celebrations of this and that all summer long and all walking distance or a short bus ride away as otherwise not many could attend ha ha! There was always a tombola stall where you bought raffle tickets to win what other people donated, a long sloping cardboard tube that a stuffed sock 'rat' would be sent down for you to try and hit when it came out and a handkerchief girl who wore a plain coloured dress with lots of bordered or embroidered cotton hankies pinned on it for you to choose and buy. Hankies were more of a necessity in those days. Also lived in Derbyshire where they did well dressing. Amazing stuff.
So first thought of thanks for the day is remembering those summer outings of childhood.
And second is to Paper Roses for her comments. Most of the time I have to talk to myself so it's nice to feel that someone's listening to me
Seeing stars
Fell asleep on the sofa again...what a slacker I'm becoming! Woke up and got up and when I went to draw my bedroom curtains I could see some twinkly stars. Felt for moment as if I could remember all the starry skies I'd ever marvelled at, all the katy-cornered moons and constellations in foreign lands, ethereal full moonlight shimmering on frost in Wales, and a night at a hotel high in the Atlas mountains when I got up to go to the outside loo and was dizzy with wonderment to see the myriad of tiny lights we civilisation dwellers forget are there
If you can remember an editors as intensely as I can that, it doesn't matter if was long ago and far away and never coming back, because it's always with you anyway.
So that is my final 'thank you' for today even tho it's slipped into tomorrow while I've been writing it...
If you can remember an editors as intensely as I can that, it doesn't matter if was long ago and far away and never coming back, because it's always with you anyway.
So that is my final 'thank you' for today even tho it's slipped into tomorrow while I've been writing it...
Wednesday, 29 June 2011
A post that disappeared
I deleted my last post, if you read it you'll know I said I might... This is not the place for that! It's meant to be about things that make me feel good, not things that make me feel cross or uncared for. I did send it to my oncologist though, it's not the first rant about rank incompetence she's received from me (not hers, she's not had much to do except be sympathetic really!) so hopefully she'll be sympathetic again and maybe even override the GPs dismissal of my pain and distressing symptoms and see if anything can be done to make me feel better.
It's can be hard to remain upbeat when you're hurting and favourite distractions hurt even more but Laura came and moved the slomo decorating on a bit bless her, made me a cup of tea, chatted a while and promised to post the aforementioned letter so that was a rare treat worth noting. Sometimes just a little company is analgesic enough for a while. So that can be gratitude number one.
And two is my pretty Sanderson mug. How lovely is that? I smile every time I see it!
While three is drinking Roobosch tea from it while watching good some pretty good tennis!
And four is that Clive showed me I can actually watch it in HD for free which makes an astonishing difference!
And five? Number five is...hmmm...as yet, unknown...a pleasure still to come ha ha!
It's can be hard to remain upbeat when you're hurting and favourite distractions hurt even more but Laura came and moved the slomo decorating on a bit bless her, made me a cup of tea, chatted a while and promised to post the aforementioned letter so that was a rare treat worth noting. Sometimes just a little company is analgesic enough for a while. So that can be gratitude number one.
And two is my pretty Sanderson mug. How lovely is that? I smile every time I see it!
While three is drinking Roobosch tea from it while watching good some pretty good tennis!
And four is that Clive showed me I can actually watch it in HD for free which makes an astonishing difference!
And five? Number five is...hmmm...as yet, unknown...a pleasure still to come ha ha!
Tuesday, 28 June 2011
Leaf it for later
Had a bit more energy after my acupuncture, so sitting rather than lying down a while this evening and did a few more crochet leaves for my tree. Here is the crop so far...And of course as I've laid them out on a pillowcase on the ironing board so that's delayed that dreaded chore a little longer!
Was going to write more but just woke up having fallen asleep so guess that's enough for today...
Oh yes, fifth happiness is peace and relative painlessness to nap!
What a difference a day makes
Third happiness was that I went to acupuncture. I figured just being properly listened to would do me good, plus a nice lie down and hug (any treatment being a bonus!). Afterwards I felt well enough to hobble down to the beach for an ice cream in the sun. Today the sea looked summery blue again...
Then when I got home after enjoying the sunshine it had been the second most perfect Wimbledon weather (ie rainy there while fine here) so still plenty to watch. And the first thing I watched was several rounds of jovial Mexican waving after the covers came off on Court Number Two. I love watching Mexican waves, being in them's even better, of course, but not been in an appropriate situation of late. Love anything where groups of people doing similar things create a visual effect. The beauty in the cooperation and coordination of different formsreally moves me emotionally...Spencer Tunick's nude tableaux, Busby Berkeley's dressed dancer patterns...even a line dancing troupe at a pinch ha ha! But flash mobs are the best of all, they actually make me cry...but in a good way ;-) So the entire previous paragraph will be my fourth!
Then when I got home after enjoying the sunshine it had been the second most perfect Wimbledon weather (ie rainy there while fine here) so still plenty to watch. And the first thing I watched was several rounds of jovial Mexican waving after the covers came off on Court Number Two. I love watching Mexican waves, being in them's even better, of course, but not been in an appropriate situation of late. Love anything where groups of people doing similar things create a visual effect. The beauty in the cooperation and coordination of different formsreally moves me emotionally...Spencer Tunick's nude tableaux, Busby Berkeley's dressed dancer patterns...even a line dancing troupe at a pinch ha ha! But flash mobs are the best of all, they actually make me cry...but in a good way ;-) So the entire previous paragraph will be my fourth!
A post with no name
Today I'm happy because, as the doctors yesterday dismissed my symptoms of deteriorating health, I can avoid hospitals a bit longer woohoo! If you can't have loved people around when you're feeling rough then loved things is good and comforting, I can snuggle up and nurture myself.
My reasoning may sound cackhanded but my experience of treatment (both physically and emotionally) at the hands of the NHS has not been an unmitigated success either in terms of caring and competence. I will spare you the details as partly as I haven't the energy to write them down (they go on and on) and partly as are almost* completely devoid of feelgood factor moments so have no place on here.
No doubt in your wisdom you will have heard of the 'placebo' effect...well there is a nocebo one too whereby you perceive something will do you harm and it does. I am aware that anybody west of Salisbury will say 'Oh, there you are...it's your negative attitude bringing these situations on'. Trust me, it's not. If I had that much power over the actions of others I'd put it to a much more pleasant and therapeutic purpose I'm sure!
Shall I go to acupuncture or stay on the sofa sipping herb tea and napping in front of the TV? Decisions, decisions...
Good thing number two of the day...I had a small plate of beans on toast and actually enjoyed it!
*I can kind of think of one...I'll consider it's suitability by and by
My reasoning may sound cackhanded but my experience of treatment (both physically and emotionally) at the hands of the NHS has not been an unmitigated success either in terms of caring and competence. I will spare you the details as partly as I haven't the energy to write them down (they go on and on) and partly as are almost* completely devoid of feelgood factor moments so have no place on here.
No doubt in your wisdom you will have heard of the 'placebo' effect...well there is a nocebo one too whereby you perceive something will do you harm and it does. I am aware that anybody west of Salisbury will say 'Oh, there you are...it's your negative attitude bringing these situations on'. Trust me, it's not. If I had that much power over the actions of others I'd put it to a much more pleasant and therapeutic purpose I'm sure!
Shall I go to acupuncture or stay on the sofa sipping herb tea and napping in front of the TV? Decisions, decisions...
Good thing number two of the day...I had a small plate of beans on toast and actually enjoyed it!
*I can kind of think of one...I'll consider it's suitability by and by
Monday, 27 June 2011
Watch this space #3: Still a lot of space left!
There is a green tree far away
With leaves I've yet to make
But everything I try to do
Just makes my body ache
Aches so much I went to the doctor...hardly ever do that. She suggests my chest pain and difficulty breathing is a digestive issue which just shows how much I know eh? I would have thought... oh, never mind you know what I'd have thought as you would have done too! Still at least Mr Murray finished (and won) his match before I had to leave for the surgery and 'Deliciano' Lopez hung on in the match he seemed about to lose saving the last set (and winning) for me. And the sea...just across the road from the doctors' was dark grey and wintry-waved without it actually be freezing cold to look at it!
You may not be able to tell much difference from the last picture to this but I have finished and sewn a few more branches down, and I've also crocheted a few more leaves though they need the ends sewn in yet. I guess it's actually a lot more done than it seems but a lot less done than I'd like it to be. Not that I'm not enjoying making it, it's just I'm looking forward to looking at it on the wall.
Some great tennis today...I love it when sporting foregone conclusions don't conclude according to plan A, or at least proceed as if they might not for a while!
So today I am grateful for...
1) the power of imagination
2) my tree still growing
3) stirring seascapes
4) surprising tennis...and...um...
5) the fact that you're reading this blog!
The mystery of imagination
I was thinking this morning about how amazing the power of imagination is. Imagine stroking a finger on a stubbly chin, or rubbing a warm dog's offered tummy with the flat of your hand, the tingly cool of dewy grass under the bare soles of your feet. Not your kind of thing? Well, conjure up some other physical sensations with happy memories attached...not drug or alcohol related ha ha!
It's worth remembering this technique when physical sensations 'in the real world' not so appealing
We seem to have missed the heatwave here...well, apart from an hour or two's brilliant sunshine this morning when the sky was such a deep blue I thought there was something wrong with my eyes. We missed the snow too...very temperate our local climate I guess
It's worth remembering this technique when physical sensations 'in the real world' not so appealing
We seem to have missed the heatwave here...well, apart from an hour or two's brilliant sunshine this morning when the sky was such a deep blue I thought there was something wrong with my eyes. We missed the snow too...very temperate our local climate I guess
Sunday, 26 June 2011
2 x happy
And the fourth thing was...company! Company? Yeah, you know...more than one person in one place at a time, communication between them etc. It's great, you should try it! What's that? You have? Don't take it for granted then, celebrate it!
And finally I give thanks and appreciation for my sofa! Actually it's not really a sofa but a single bed with drawers underneath, an extra firm mattress and lots of cushions to lounge on. I had thought to upgrade it to something more sophisticated and mature...(a sofa perhaps?)but in current circumstances I'm quite glad I didn't. It's just the job when you're feeling worn out after the excitement of the above (or indeed any other occasion when horizontalness seems only right and proper!)
And finally I give thanks and appreciation for my sofa! Actually it's not really a sofa but a single bed with drawers underneath, an extra firm mattress and lots of cushions to lounge on. I had thought to upgrade it to something more sophisticated and mature...(a sofa perhaps?)but in current circumstances I'm quite glad I didn't. It's just the job when you're feeling worn out after the excitement of the above (or indeed any other occasion when horizontalness seems only right and proper!)
3 x happy
The thing I loved first was actually last night. Just thought I'd tune into the Glastonbury coverage and caught a bit of Coldplay. I remember when they first headlined a few years back I thought, great music yeah but more to listen to than watch perhaps. But when I saw a bit of their set on TV and thought fair play to Coldplay they did a pretty good job. But this time...Wow they've really upped their game! Chris Martin has become an all singing all dancing 'performer' and they put on a show. The fans looked happy, the band looked ecstatic! And all those great shots of the lights all over the site, the acres of crowd, the walkways, the big tops and other stages. The sense that there were so many other Glastonbury experiences going on, hope they were good ones too!
And the second was just at the end of that with the huge pyramid stage sides pulsating with bright coloured patterns. LEDs maybe but bigger and brighter than you've ever seen before. Sometimes even when you're home alone just looking at a TV screen you go 'Oh Wow' out loud with wonder and awe.
And the third was the soft thick mist all around since early light. Beautiful...love mist!
And the second was just at the end of that with the huge pyramid stage sides pulsating with bright coloured patterns. LEDs maybe but bigger and brighter than you've ever seen before. Sometimes even when you're home alone just looking at a TV screen you go 'Oh Wow' out loud with wonder and awe.
And the third was the soft thick mist all around since early light. Beautiful...love mist!
Saturday, 25 June 2011
Branching out
I hope you all had a lovely day enjoying this lovely weather! I took the rubbish down to the bins and even though the weather forecasts had told us how warm it would be it was still amazing having the wind feel like a hair dryer blowing on your skin instead of like opening the freezer door. If I had a garden I'd have sat in it, if I had a chauffeur I'd have sat in the passenger seat! Instead I watched the tree outside my window blowing about, the branches bent right over and the wanton leaves showing their undersides...
Rearranged the Tree of Life backing fabric on the frame so I could work on the branches rather than the roots, and did some knitting of the stripey strip that will be part of my 'iconic' Oxfam blanket. Hard to get comfy, think I'm going to have to see a doctor soon so hard to keep cheerful too since I can't think of anything they will say that doesn't involve the dreaded H word even just for 'tests'. I've tested it, it doesn't work ha ha!
Watched tennis of course...Great intro to the day's play from a rather dishevelled Andrew Castle. Looked as if he'd been up all night, bless him, and Greg's back commentating too so feeble though it may sound that's going to have to be number three.
And number four will be the Kate Atkinson Case Histories adaptation. It's so good...loved the stories anyway but this has bean realised and characterised so well and has beautiful glimpses of Edinburgh and Scottish/Northern England scenery too! Watched the last but one part so only the last one to go. Maybe I should watch something not so good first and save that a little while...
And number five is that I found a jigsaw in the communal paper recycling wheely bin! I fished it out when I went to put some magazines in knowing the bin men will just leave the whole thing behind if they find anything made of cardboard where it shouldn't be. And I was just about to hurl it into a general refuse wheely bin nearby when I realised it was brand new and unopened and perfectly clean and rattling as if all its pieces were inside. It's not the sort that appeals to me (I have one or two that do awaiting my attention) but fine for a charity shop donation.
Rearranged the Tree of Life backing fabric on the frame so I could work on the branches rather than the roots, and did some knitting of the stripey strip that will be part of my 'iconic' Oxfam blanket. Hard to get comfy, think I'm going to have to see a doctor soon so hard to keep cheerful too since I can't think of anything they will say that doesn't involve the dreaded H word even just for 'tests'. I've tested it, it doesn't work ha ha!
Watched tennis of course...Great intro to the day's play from a rather dishevelled Andrew Castle. Looked as if he'd been up all night, bless him, and Greg's back commentating too so feeble though it may sound that's going to have to be number three.
And number four will be the Kate Atkinson Case Histories adaptation. It's so good...loved the stories anyway but this has bean realised and characterised so well and has beautiful glimpses of Edinburgh and Scottish/Northern England scenery too! Watched the last but one part so only the last one to go. Maybe I should watch something not so good first and save that a little while...
And number five is that I found a jigsaw in the communal paper recycling wheely bin! I fished it out when I went to put some magazines in knowing the bin men will just leave the whole thing behind if they find anything made of cardboard where it shouldn't be. And I was just about to hurl it into a general refuse wheely bin nearby when I realised it was brand new and unopened and perfectly clean and rattling as if all its pieces were inside. It's not the sort that appeals to me (I have one or two that do awaiting my attention) but fine for a charity shop donation.
Wonderful world
Today I give profound thanks first of all to the 'Day in pictures' on the BBC's website. We, forget sometimes the things around us, the buildings, the transport, the faces of the people and their clothes, their interests, concerns and celebrations are not the norm everywhere on this planet. For the armchair anthropologist confined to bed these photographs are a source of deep joy and wonder!
The second one is going to seem exceptionally mad even for me but hear me out (if you want to that is)...it's washing up! No, I'm not exceptionally keen on doing it either but when you think about it, having pots and pans and plates and cups and cutlery is pretty amazing anyway, let alone having hot water 'on tap' to wash them. And having had the financial and/or physical wherewithal to put things on or in them. That's something to be thankful for for everybody I reckon. But if you're on your own and not in the best of health then the fact you found energy and inclination to first of all to nourish yourself and secondly to clear up after is a minor miracle some days. And how much better do you feel going into a clean tidy kitchen than a messy one with jobs you haven't done? Well, not cured maybe, but marginally more upbeat and cared for, even if you did the caring yourself. So yes I am grateful indeed.
The second one is going to seem exceptionally mad even for me but hear me out (if you want to that is)...it's washing up! No, I'm not exceptionally keen on doing it either but when you think about it, having pots and pans and plates and cups and cutlery is pretty amazing anyway, let alone having hot water 'on tap' to wash them. And having had the financial and/or physical wherewithal to put things on or in them. That's something to be thankful for for everybody I reckon. But if you're on your own and not in the best of health then the fact you found energy and inclination to first of all to nourish yourself and secondly to clear up after is a minor miracle some days. And how much better do you feel going into a clean tidy kitchen than a messy one with jobs you haven't done? Well, not cured maybe, but marginally more upbeat and cared for, even if you did the caring yourself. So yes I am grateful indeed.
Friday, 24 June 2011
Magic!
PS. If you read that and then watched the beginning of the U2 coverage you will know the invisible secret bucket list people had Bono put a little bit of Movin' On Up into Still Haven't Found What I'm Looking For to make it up to me! That was spooky and surreal and wonderful and made me cry happy tears before bedtime :')
Delight in the evening
Fourth happiness: finally getting the little diy job done that I fell asleep before earlier. I am so glad I can still 'do it myself' now and then, and Andy plays better when I'm not glued to the screen waiting for him to do so!
Fifth happiness: Bit of Glastonbury on telly. Yeah I know it's not the same as being there, but I've been and I remember how wonderful it can feel, and I remember better with it on TV to remind me! Lovely Jimmy Cliff and crowd in cagoules singing 'I can see clearly now the rain has gone' in the rain! First choice would have been at the Eden Project for Primal Scream tonight but I'm not Morgan Freeman and I'm fresh out of Jack Nicholsons so for this I'm truly grateful!
Fifth happiness: Bit of Glastonbury on telly. Yeah I know it's not the same as being there, but I've been and I remember how wonderful it can feel, and I remember better with it on TV to remind me! Lovely Jimmy Cliff and crowd in cagoules singing 'I can see clearly now the rain has gone' in the rain! First choice would have been at the Eden Project for Primal Scream tonight but I'm not Morgan Freeman and I'm fresh out of Jack Nicholsons so for this I'm truly grateful!
Delight in the day
Just had a nap on the sofa. Love that! I'd felt so tired and poorly and I kept thinking well, I'll just do this...and that...and something else again before I rest. And in the end I thought well I'll maybe have a cup of tea and sit down and get my strength back before I do the remainder of the tasks I'd set myself. And I put the kettle on, and the teabag in the mug and then thought well, maybe I'll just have a little lie on the sofa while the kettle boils...and maybe just close my eyes for a minute or two. And one of them I was listening to the commentator talking about Monfils jumping up in the air and the next it was quiet and I opened my eyes and there was a shot of the rain covers on all of the courts...and about forty of them had disappeared in the meantime! So that's my second gratitude for the day...my body stepping in and saying stop and making me take time out.
My third is my tree. Progress is so slow but every stitch is a joy because it's so beautiful. I mean the yarn I'm using for the 'woodwork' just looks so lovely and gnarled and woody with hardly any effort from me at all. What I'm doing's just averagely OK, nothing to be ashamed of but not breathtakingly good like the thing I'm doing it with... Which is fine as it would be quite obnoxious to be quite so pleased with oneself!
My fourth and fifth will have to wait while I rest some more and watch a little more tennis...
My third is my tree. Progress is so slow but every stitch is a joy because it's so beautiful. I mean the yarn I'm using for the 'woodwork' just looks so lovely and gnarled and woody with hardly any effort from me at all. What I'm doing's just averagely OK, nothing to be ashamed of but not breathtakingly good like the thing I'm doing it with... Which is fine as it would be quite obnoxious to be quite so pleased with oneself!
My fourth and fifth will have to wait while I rest some more and watch a little more tennis...
Portion size (small)
Actually I’ve thought about it a bit more and I get it now I think...if you have husbands or wives or some other significant other and/or family members that are close physically and at heart, and maybe a ‘best mate’ or two that you have had for years, other people you know and see socially or communicate with virtually are ‘just friends’. It’s because I don’t have all the other bits the concept’s been puzzling me, I’ve been looking at the condiments and thinking ‘Which shall I eat first?’ while you lot are tucking into a three course meal, with some side dishes and maybe some garlic bread to share!
Anyway, enough already...Let’s lighten the mood here a little... Not all my stories (true and fictional) are deep and sad. This one is in memory of Colin (there really was a Colin!) and is the right size portion for a coffee break perhaps...
Duplicity
There was no doubting that Colin preferred men. The unpredictable emotional outbursts of women unsettled his composure, and youthful experiences taught him to eschew the charms of their softly curvaceous flesh.
Despite a predatory nature he had enjoyed several years’ comfortable liaison with an older gentleman who demanded little more than his handsome presence about the place and turned a tolerant eye to occasional unexplained absences.
Now, rather awkwardly, he found himself drawn to a new young neighbour. This man had misguidedly acquired himself a wife and offspring but the admiration was obviously mutual. In fact it was he who had initiated things by whistling softly over the garden fence to attract Colin’s attention as he sunned his still sleek body on the decking.
Colin had visited him more than once since then for some brief but sensuous pleasures. They had to be careful. The wife was suspicious and made it clear she believed his kind a health hazard to her brood.
Things came to a head one sultry summer’s evening when she arrived home to find Colin stretched out on the marital bed while her spouse took a much needed shower. He leapt to his feet but the screeching woman blocked the doorway and survival instinct rather than reason inspired him to make for the open window and the conservatory roof below.
It was an inelegant scrambling descent, Colin was not as agile as once he had been.
On safety’s side of the fence he paused. His companion was home and he needed a moment to restore his nonchalance before he entered the house. He sat on the decking and cleaned behind his ears with a paw, smoothing the fur on his flanks with his tongue before sauntering up to his six inch door.
Or how about something even more small and light? An amuse bouche? A mini meringue?
John Wyndham gave us triffid plants,
He also gave us kraken.
If you think I’ll rhyme with triffid plants,
You’re very much mistaken!
Anyway, enough already...Let’s lighten the mood here a little... Not all my stories (true and fictional) are deep and sad. This one is in memory of Colin (there really was a Colin!) and is the right size portion for a coffee break perhaps...
Duplicity
There was no doubting that Colin preferred men. The unpredictable emotional outbursts of women unsettled his composure, and youthful experiences taught him to eschew the charms of their softly curvaceous flesh.
Despite a predatory nature he had enjoyed several years’ comfortable liaison with an older gentleman who demanded little more than his handsome presence about the place and turned a tolerant eye to occasional unexplained absences.
Now, rather awkwardly, he found himself drawn to a new young neighbour. This man had misguidedly acquired himself a wife and offspring but the admiration was obviously mutual. In fact it was he who had initiated things by whistling softly over the garden fence to attract Colin’s attention as he sunned his still sleek body on the decking.
Colin had visited him more than once since then for some brief but sensuous pleasures. They had to be careful. The wife was suspicious and made it clear she believed his kind a health hazard to her brood.
Things came to a head one sultry summer’s evening when she arrived home to find Colin stretched out on the marital bed while her spouse took a much needed shower. He leapt to his feet but the screeching woman blocked the doorway and survival instinct rather than reason inspired him to make for the open window and the conservatory roof below.
It was an inelegant scrambling descent, Colin was not as agile as once he had been.
On safety’s side of the fence he paused. His companion was home and he needed a moment to restore his nonchalance before he entered the house. He sat on the decking and cleaned behind his ears with a paw, smoothing the fur on his flanks with his tongue before sauntering up to his six inch door.
Or how about something even more small and light? An amuse bouche? A mini meringue?
John Wyndham gave us triffid plants,
He also gave us kraken.
If you think I’ll rhyme with triffid plants,
You’re very much mistaken!
Portion size
Had a look at Facebook this morning, see if anyone I knew had said anything recently I could relate to. Clive had a semi comic question about your fruit and veg 5-a-day, about whether two small apples was one and I was thinking about my happiness count and how portion size is to do with the effect they produce rather than apparently obvious but actually subjective merit, so unlike the government guidelines for physical health five cherries that make you go 'Mmmm!' are better than five bowls of salad that make you go 'yuk!'
I'd also been musing about how we say of people they are 'just' a friend as if friends are as commonplace and unworthy of note as...as...what? What is really common and unworthy of note? A fish in the sea, a pebble on the beach, a grain of sand? Oh, dear, I didn't mean to get all Zen with this! I don't know... a piece of fluff on your carpet! I mean we say 'just' a friend so dissmissively, and in comparison to what? Relatives you are born with (or they are born with you), lovers and spouses you can buy one way or another so why is a friend 'just a friend'. Is it when they're not your 'best friend' ie. your favourite one? Clearly I have very little undersatanding of human relationships but we knew that anyway huh!
I'd also been musing about how we say of people they are 'just' a friend as if friends are as commonplace and unworthy of note as...as...what? What is really common and unworthy of note? A fish in the sea, a pebble on the beach, a grain of sand? Oh, dear, I didn't mean to get all Zen with this! I don't know... a piece of fluff on your carpet! I mean we say 'just' a friend so dissmissively, and in comparison to what? Relatives you are born with (or they are born with you), lovers and spouses you can buy one way or another so why is a friend 'just a friend'. Is it when they're not your 'best friend' ie. your favourite one? Clearly I have very little undersatanding of human relationships but we knew that anyway huh!
Delight in the night
First thank you of the day...
To damnyouautocorrect.com for always making me laugh out loud no matter how sore I am in body or soul, and to dear Bob for realising a while ago it was just what his mum would like!
To damnyouautocorrect.com for always making me laugh out loud no matter how sore I am in body or soul, and to dear Bob for realising a while ago it was just what his mum would like!
Thursday, 23 June 2011
My five-a-day for today
1) Pleasant dreams and Debbie pointing out the first part was almost a description of her day out Saturday
2) Clive saying he’ll come over on Sunday, do a couple of jobs and watch the race with me. Company...Woohoo! Jobs...Woohoo! Clive...Woohoo! I felt like those kids on the advert when the parents say they’re taking them to Disneyworld...
3) Sitting on the beach with the pigeons
4) Tesco spinach and ricotta cannelloni. If it has to be a ready meal and it has to be one Mr Tesco will bring to my door then this is as good as it gets and pretty damn good that is too
5) Great last set on the Tsonga/Dimitrov match and Tsonga being so lovely at the end. Great guy, always a joy to watch him play and hear him interviewed!
2) Clive saying he’ll come over on Sunday, do a couple of jobs and watch the race with me. Company...Woohoo! Jobs...Woohoo! Clive...Woohoo! I felt like those kids on the advert when the parents say they’re taking them to Disneyworld...
3) Sitting on the beach with the pigeons
4) Tesco spinach and ricotta cannelloni. If it has to be a ready meal and it has to be one Mr Tesco will bring to my door then this is as good as it gets and pretty damn good that is too
5) Great last set on the Tsonga/Dimitrov match and Tsonga being so lovely at the end. Great guy, always a joy to watch him play and hear him interviewed!
Cancer patient...life's too short (2)
Well the rain and pain stayed mainly on the wane and I was able to do a few chores in town and enjoy a little picnic on the beach. The tide had only just receded enough for there to be room to sit and stroll and hardly any humans or gulls had arrived. For a while it was just me and the pigeons which was very pleasant! My first full time job was for a pigeon newspaper and whenever I say that someone always quips ‘I didn’t know pigeons could read’ so it’s a good job I can’t hear you. Its claim to fame (as far as I’m concerned) was that a few years back it was the ‘guest publication’ on the Have I Got News for You? missing words round...
Bought a small hairbrush amongst other things. Not really necessary yet, more a case of wistful anticipation... a bit like an adolescent boy’s first razor or a prepubescent girl’s training bra!
On return, as I wasn’t finding the tennis matches totally gripping, did a little light housework. The dying are not excused the tedious aspects of living and it’s hard to be always unconditionally grateful for the physical ability to carry them out! You can’t flash your ‘Cancer patient...Life’s too short’ card and your clothes and sheets are miraculously smoothed, your vegetables chopped and your work surfaces free of crumbs... Then a bit more branch application on my picture...it’s slow progress, sometimes I think it would be quicker to grow a tree! And finishing off, printing and posting my second letter to my incarcerated penfriend answering the questions in his while posing a few more of my own.
Have thought of a few things to be grateful for today but just now I want my tea so I’ll have to tell you later!
Bought a small hairbrush amongst other things. Not really necessary yet, more a case of wistful anticipation... a bit like an adolescent boy’s first razor or a prepubescent girl’s training bra!
On return, as I wasn’t finding the tennis matches totally gripping, did a little light housework. The dying are not excused the tedious aspects of living and it’s hard to be always unconditionally grateful for the physical ability to carry them out! You can’t flash your ‘Cancer patient...Life’s too short’ card and your clothes and sheets are miraculously smoothed, your vegetables chopped and your work surfaces free of crumbs... Then a bit more branch application on my picture...it’s slow progress, sometimes I think it would be quicker to grow a tree! And finishing off, printing and posting my second letter to my incarcerated penfriend answering the questions in his while posing a few more of my own.
Have thought of a few things to be grateful for today but just now I want my tea so I’ll have to tell you later!
Home thoughts from a bed
Woke up this morning and nothing hurt not even my heart or mind...I was comfortable all over!
I'd even had enjoyable dreams...in one part someone was showing me round interesting excavations of a castle and Roman walls. In another an old friend who apparently had a double life as a Spanish celebrity visited and bought us all T shirts before going off to his commitments. Then I was moving into a shared house with some more friends...dream friends not real ones if you know what I mean. There were some dead plants hung up in the kitchen and outside the front door and I potted up some cuttings of new plants and was working out how much string and how many beads I'd need to make macrame hangers and where to buy these things locally. There were some bits of furniture and we were moving them around to fit better. I said I had a six seater modern wood table that would go nicely in the kitchen diner and when they asked if it had chairs to go with it I couldn't visualise them...and then realised I didn't have the table either!
Sometimes when I have happy dreams they make me sad when I wake up and realise they're not true. I used to have wonderful dreams sometimes that I was completely totally unconditionally loved and I'd wake up, burst into tears and be in a miserable mood all day. I think you can't really miss what you've never really known but I also believe on another level that we've all known/know/will know everything anyway.
I tried to express this in a poem a couple of weeks back but it's hard not to sound a bit...can't think of a suitable word...imagine me pulling a horrid face and gesturing putting fingers down my throat! Sickly, mawkish, up oneself? This risk not withstanding here is 'wot I wrote' (something impossible for the over fifties to say without putting on an Ernie Wise accent!)
In other lifetimes I've been loved, I have not walked alone
There have been hands and hearts to hold, and arms to bear me home
The tears I shed in longing now, the sense of loss and pain
Are just my soul remembering that bliss awaits again
Now I'm off to see if I can do all the things I need to before I'm ready to go out and still feel up to actually going out when I've done so...
I'd even had enjoyable dreams...in one part someone was showing me round interesting excavations of a castle and Roman walls. In another an old friend who apparently had a double life as a Spanish celebrity visited and bought us all T shirts before going off to his commitments. Then I was moving into a shared house with some more friends...dream friends not real ones if you know what I mean. There were some dead plants hung up in the kitchen and outside the front door and I potted up some cuttings of new plants and was working out how much string and how many beads I'd need to make macrame hangers and where to buy these things locally. There were some bits of furniture and we were moving them around to fit better. I said I had a six seater modern wood table that would go nicely in the kitchen diner and when they asked if it had chairs to go with it I couldn't visualise them...and then realised I didn't have the table either!
Sometimes when I have happy dreams they make me sad when I wake up and realise they're not true. I used to have wonderful dreams sometimes that I was completely totally unconditionally loved and I'd wake up, burst into tears and be in a miserable mood all day. I think you can't really miss what you've never really known but I also believe on another level that we've all known/know/will know everything anyway.
I tried to express this in a poem a couple of weeks back but it's hard not to sound a bit...can't think of a suitable word...imagine me pulling a horrid face and gesturing putting fingers down my throat! Sickly, mawkish, up oneself? This risk not withstanding here is 'wot I wrote' (something impossible for the over fifties to say without putting on an Ernie Wise accent!)
In other lifetimes I've been loved, I have not walked alone
There have been hands and hearts to hold, and arms to bear me home
The tears I shed in longing now, the sense of loss and pain
Are just my soul remembering that bliss awaits again
Now I'm off to see if I can do all the things I need to before I'm ready to go out and still feel up to actually going out when I've done so...
Wednesday, 22 June 2011
Weather to go out tomorrow?
Just checking the weather reports to see if I can work up enthusiasm for the effort of going out tomorrow. How can I make sure it's an acuweather day if I do instead of a metcheck one as the former will be three degrees warmer?
Oh well, I've made my bed at last woohoo, time to go and lie on it...what a shame a lot of rowdy drunk people arrived upstairs as I wrote that!
Oh well, I've made my bed at last woohoo, time to go and lie on it...what a shame a lot of rowdy drunk people arrived upstairs as I wrote that!
Watch this space #2
Thought you might like to see how the wood for the tree is doing ha ha! In between bitching I’ve been stitching today and it’s gradually coming on.
My first gratitude is that I found a ball of this marvellous wool in a charity shop somewhere sometime...I can’t remember clearly. I didn’t know what it was for in the cosmic scheme of things until I started this project. I had a pretty good idea what the leaves would be like right from the start but the ‘pattern’ for the tree didn’t reveal itself for a week or two later...
My second gratitude is that the inspiration came to me at all, after years of thinking Tree of Life representations were cool and that I’d like to do one of some sort myself but never deciding for certain on a version. It came to me in a ladies’ loo upstairs in a craft centre. I’d just been for a springtime woody walk with a friend and we’d looked at the crafts on our way to the cafe and suddenly it went ping in my head...
My third gratitude is for that lovely day...thank you Jared!
My fourth gratitude is for finding a remnant of perfect fabric for the backing in a little shop not far from here..
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And my fifth is for winning the perfect frame to make the picture on ebay and somehow getting it home!
So with all these sources of happiness you can imagine working on this picture makes me very happy indeed!
Did you have any ‘can’ts’ to deal with today?
For some years I worked for a big company that it seemed spent as much time reorganising and renaming its office practices as much as anything else. After yet another team briefing when we’d been talked through the fact we’d be running the trucks on round things covered with rubber from now on and the fleet would be renamed the ‘wheelbase’ etc. we were asked for any suggestions we had about ways to communicate better with our managers about our training needs.
I came up with the idea of ‘can’ts’. ..If there was a gap in our required encyclopaedic knowledge or a customer simply asked for the moon on a stick and we didn’t personally have the correct profiles to be able to supply we could flag it up the chain of command for coaching or resolution. It seemed a fine opportunity to inject a little blithe Anglo-Saxon humour into the day by replacing ‘problems’ or ‘issues’ with a close homophone to a word meaning something completely different. My own manager, bless him, valued his career rather more than my sense of humour and didn’t take my proposal further.
If you are of a more prudish disposition than I and this has offended your sensibilities, I apologise...I shall try to write something more spiritually uplifting later on after I've watched a bit more tennis!
I came up with the idea of ‘can’ts’. ..If there was a gap in our required encyclopaedic knowledge or a customer simply asked for the moon on a stick and we didn’t personally have the correct profiles to be able to supply we could flag it up the chain of command for coaching or resolution. It seemed a fine opportunity to inject a little blithe Anglo-Saxon humour into the day by replacing ‘problems’ or ‘issues’ with a close homophone to a word meaning something completely different. My own manager, bless him, valued his career rather more than my sense of humour and didn’t take my proposal further.
If you are of a more prudish disposition than I and this has offended your sensibilities, I apologise...I shall try to write something more spiritually uplifting later on after I've watched a bit more tennis!
Come on everyone...
...get up and read my blog! What? Oh, you are up and busy with your day and it's only me lazing here in bed? Well, there have to be some perks to my state of health surely ha ha? And the selective nature of others' 'busyness' is probably best not dwelt upon in too great detail by those this state, is it?
There's someone I haven't been in contact for a few months, and the mutual friends I have heard from have expressed some surprise so I think word's got back to her as she emailed and said she was too busy to travel here but if I went there she'd meet me. It's maybe 20 mins in the car if you have one which I don't (she does) and I don't often feel up to travelling on foot/public transport, let alone facing the bustle of the big city when I get there followed by the journey home. But the balance has shifted now by her message hasn't it? If we don't meet it's because I'm not making the effort. I'm (mostly) sure people don't mean to be unkind but sometimes I do feel my compassion stretched to encompass the lack of theirs.
I do push myself to beyond what feels easy as often as I can, I don't want the 'what ifs' and 'not ifs' to limit my life as much as the just plain 'can'ts'* but when I am tired or in pain really I should get better at stopping if stopping doesn't mean no clean plates or no food to put on them or basic stuff like that. Last night I did over do it a bit when I got home, going out to post a card to friend who's just had an operation, and a postcard to my new penfriend to say a proper reply to his letter will follow. And then I got it in my head that I could 'just' put a first coat of paint on a door architrave whilst cooking myself a tasty and nutritious tea. This was clearly insanely over-ambitious (guess which job didn't get finished)and am paying the price by feeling totally wrecked today.
*that's reminded me of something that might make some of you smile...see I knew there was a good reason behind all this whingeing today! I'd better get some food on a clean plate and get back here...
There's someone I haven't been in contact for a few months, and the mutual friends I have heard from have expressed some surprise so I think word's got back to her as she emailed and said she was too busy to travel here but if I went there she'd meet me. It's maybe 20 mins in the car if you have one which I don't (she does) and I don't often feel up to travelling on foot/public transport, let alone facing the bustle of the big city when I get there followed by the journey home. But the balance has shifted now by her message hasn't it? If we don't meet it's because I'm not making the effort. I'm (mostly) sure people don't mean to be unkind but sometimes I do feel my compassion stretched to encompass the lack of theirs.
I do push myself to beyond what feels easy as often as I can, I don't want the 'what ifs' and 'not ifs' to limit my life as much as the just plain 'can'ts'* but when I am tired or in pain really I should get better at stopping if stopping doesn't mean no clean plates or no food to put on them or basic stuff like that. Last night I did over do it a bit when I got home, going out to post a card to friend who's just had an operation, and a postcard to my new penfriend to say a proper reply to his letter will follow. And then I got it in my head that I could 'just' put a first coat of paint on a door architrave whilst cooking myself a tasty and nutritious tea. This was clearly insanely over-ambitious (guess which job didn't get finished)and am paying the price by feeling totally wrecked today.
*that's reminded me of something that might make some of you smile...see I knew there was a good reason behind all this whingeing today! I'd better get some food on a clean plate and get back here...
Tuesday, 21 June 2011
(Last) thought for the day...
Well, the last one to be recorded on here anyway methinks as I settle into my post acupuncture recuperative slump.
That Isner and Mahut have by some pattern of randomness been drawn to play against each other again at Wimbledon this year is my (5) for the day. Each to their own, I know!
Thank you 'Paper Roses' for the offer of tea and cake. I know you live a way away, I'm happy to lie here and wait!
That Isner and Mahut have by some pattern of randomness been drawn to play against each other again at Wimbledon this year is my (5) for the day. Each to their own, I know!
Thank you 'Paper Roses' for the offer of tea and cake. I know you live a way away, I'm happy to lie here and wait!
The numbers game
The nurse came for my maintenance today and had a second year student accompanying her who requested a domestic tour on the grounds my flat is decorated and furnished so beautifully and artistically. Readers who have been here will be glancing up at the address bar now to check they’re in the right blog ha ha! I guess the community team see a variety of living styles but she’s not the first to rave about mine so I’ll make that (1)
I felt quite energised after my acupuncture session (I have to write this so Rachel knows as I’ll have forgotten by next Tuesday!) Did some light l shopping in town and walked back the scenic route, along the seafront and up the road to the public viewing platform where the view is rather splendid funnily enough! Today the tide was quite far out exposing the little rocks off shore and with low waves and scattered white horses...beautiful...(2). And then I walked a bit further up the road to the edge of the park where you do have to walk down again before walking reaching the road up to where I live but it’s worth it as the path is pretty under the trees. What was noticeable about this minor adventure was the speed at which I did it...almost normal walking speed for a normal person. As I used to tear along at an astonishing rate for a not especially tall woman and now creep like an invalid awaiting her carriage this was rather exhilarating (3) I expect the wind would have been ruffling my hair if it had been long enough yet to ruffle!
Coming up the main road I remembered something that keeps coming into my head the last few weeks since it happened whenever I am there and I keep meaning to add it to a day’s feelgood thoughts when it does. I was walking down the hill and a heard a big bus coming down behind me and turned to see why as it was nowhere near the time you might expect to see a normally timetabled one.
It was an old fashioned double decker...what sort I’m not sure, but with a vintage cream and maroon livery, a partly open air top deck full of some sort of celebratory party and the destination ‘Private Hire’ in the roll up sign in the window. It passed me and as I watched it recede into the distance one of those Sunday road outing clubs came up on the opposite side...of Vespa riders with ranks of wing mirrors and parkas to keep out the cold. For a few seconds, if someone had captured that on a photo it would have been hard to put the correct date so (4) can be this random re-enactment of my 60s youth.
I’ll think up a 5 before bedtime I’m sure...
I felt quite energised after my acupuncture session (I have to write this so Rachel knows as I’ll have forgotten by next Tuesday!) Did some light l shopping in town and walked back the scenic route, along the seafront and up the road to the public viewing platform where the view is rather splendid funnily enough! Today the tide was quite far out exposing the little rocks off shore and with low waves and scattered white horses...beautiful...(2). And then I walked a bit further up the road to the edge of the park where you do have to walk down again before walking reaching the road up to where I live but it’s worth it as the path is pretty under the trees. What was noticeable about this minor adventure was the speed at which I did it...almost normal walking speed for a normal person. As I used to tear along at an astonishing rate for a not especially tall woman and now creep like an invalid awaiting her carriage this was rather exhilarating (3) I expect the wind would have been ruffling my hair if it had been long enough yet to ruffle!
Coming up the main road I remembered something that keeps coming into my head the last few weeks since it happened whenever I am there and I keep meaning to add it to a day’s feelgood thoughts when it does. I was walking down the hill and a heard a big bus coming down behind me and turned to see why as it was nowhere near the time you might expect to see a normally timetabled one.
It was an old fashioned double decker...what sort I’m not sure, but with a vintage cream and maroon livery, a partly open air top deck full of some sort of celebratory party and the destination ‘Private Hire’ in the roll up sign in the window. It passed me and as I watched it recede into the distance one of those Sunday road outing clubs came up on the opposite side...of Vespa riders with ranks of wing mirrors and parkas to keep out the cold. For a few seconds, if someone had captured that on a photo it would have been hard to put the correct date so (4) can be this random re-enactment of my 60s youth.
I’ll think up a 5 before bedtime I’m sure...
Let me tell you a story #3
Hello again...may you be well, may you be happy, may you be at peace.
I’d better finish telling you the story of the story before my mind starts rambling off on something else. So...
A few days after I’d seen the results on the website I had to send off master copies on paper and disk and a mini bio to go in the back of the book and I sat back and awaited the proofs. I waited and waited, I emailed the editor and they explained they were having some delays but would be back in touch and a few years went by. This is not an exaggeration! In the meantime I wrote a few more stories in different styles and about different things and sent them to other competitions. Some no one but me ‘got’ at all, sometimes they were highly commended and once one was a runner up again and appeared in another anthology. When that happened I had more of an idea how the process worked and sent more emails and letters to the original people and made a phone call or two but to no avail...
Then last year out of the blue they wrote to us all and said the wheels were back in motion again and finally, finally we had our proofs and publication went ahead and now I have ‘two books on the shelf’, two books that is that have stories in by me that other people thought should be there, and that makes me smile every time I think of it! So this definitely worth including on here on a gratitude list but would be counterproductive and cheating to put in my list everyday...see the book that inspired the practice if you want further, more scientific explanations.
One of my book bios said I wanted to be a writer from the age of three when my grandmother taught me to read but had allowed my hands and mind to be distracted by other occupations in the intervening years. Writing in that sense meaning published fiction I suppose. But of course everyone who writes is a writer, and having studied English language at nit-picking navel gazing degree level recently, I accept and embrace the concept that any kind of language at all beyond the absolutely basic functional is creative language and ‘writing’ takes on many different forms. It absolutely fascinates me that lines and squiggles on a page (for example) or pixels on a screen can create emotion in the brain. How amazing is that?
I think I may write more on this later... ha ha!
I’d better finish telling you the story of the story before my mind starts rambling off on something else. So...
A few days after I’d seen the results on the website I had to send off master copies on paper and disk and a mini bio to go in the back of the book and I sat back and awaited the proofs. I waited and waited, I emailed the editor and they explained they were having some delays but would be back in touch and a few years went by. This is not an exaggeration! In the meantime I wrote a few more stories in different styles and about different things and sent them to other competitions. Some no one but me ‘got’ at all, sometimes they were highly commended and once one was a runner up again and appeared in another anthology. When that happened I had more of an idea how the process worked and sent more emails and letters to the original people and made a phone call or two but to no avail...
Then last year out of the blue they wrote to us all and said the wheels were back in motion again and finally, finally we had our proofs and publication went ahead and now I have ‘two books on the shelf’, two books that is that have stories in by me that other people thought should be there, and that makes me smile every time I think of it! So this definitely worth including on here on a gratitude list but would be counterproductive and cheating to put in my list everyday...see the book that inspired the practice if you want further, more scientific explanations.
One of my book bios said I wanted to be a writer from the age of three when my grandmother taught me to read but had allowed my hands and mind to be distracted by other occupations in the intervening years. Writing in that sense meaning published fiction I suppose. But of course everyone who writes is a writer, and having studied English language at nit-picking navel gazing degree level recently, I accept and embrace the concept that any kind of language at all beyond the absolutely basic functional is creative language and ‘writing’ takes on many different forms. It absolutely fascinates me that lines and squiggles on a page (for example) or pixels on a screen can create emotion in the brain. How amazing is that?
I think I may write more on this later... ha ha!
Monday, 20 June 2011
Good day, good night
Well the rest of the story of the stories will have to wait as I am tired tonight and need to do other things before bed. So I’ll limit myself for now to recording my reasons to be cheerful today... and hope to meet you here tomorrow
1) That the handyman didn’t do more damage than good (this is not a given folks!)
2) Perfect weather for Wimbledon...ghastly here all afternoon so ideal for telly watching yet fine in SW19 so plenty of matches to watch. And then...when horizontalness was calling a rain break and play confined to Centre Court
3) Re-reading and enjoying once more The Woman with no Fire of her Own
4) Positive comments from readers both here and elsewhere on how much they are enjoying my blog. Some I’ve never met and some I know. What a curious thing life can be...
5) Watching the last part of the Murray match with Clive ‘by text’ which is more fun than on my own even if sometimes I miss a bit focussing on the phone instead of the TV screen
1) That the handyman didn’t do more damage than good (this is not a given folks!)
2) Perfect weather for Wimbledon...ghastly here all afternoon so ideal for telly watching yet fine in SW19 so plenty of matches to watch. And then...when horizontalness was calling a rain break and play confined to Centre Court
3) Re-reading and enjoying once more The Woman with no Fire of her Own
4) Positive comments from readers both here and elsewhere on how much they are enjoying my blog. Some I’ve never met and some I know. What a curious thing life can be...
5) Watching the last part of the Murray match with Clive ‘by text’ which is more fun than on my own even if sometimes I miss a bit focussing on the phone instead of the TV screen
The Woman with no Fire of her Own
Well, here it is folks... I hope you enjoy!
The Woman with no Fire of her Own
Once, in a time and place not far from here, there lived a woman who did not fit. Her skin was the same colour as everyone else's and she had the correct number of senses and limbs. But when she opened her mouth the strangest sounds came out, for she was a seeker and speaker of truth, a kind not often found in her land. She asked questions that couldn't or shouldn't be answered, was honest when she should have lied.
Her own closest relations found this particularly disquieting for every evening while other families sat together encircling their campfires, they grouped themselves around a cold stone. No warm glow lit their faces or hearts and they did not share the stories of progress and prowess the rest of their tribe enjoyed, but only told tales of spite. They were embarrassed enough by their difficult daughter and to prevent her revealing this, their dark secret, they told her she came from a distant race and could not mix with her neighbours and peers.
Already shunned for her curious ways this isolated the girl even more. But the little child grew as children will do in spite of life's efforts to stunt them. She found joy in the sun and the moon and the stars of the sky and quickly learnt such lessons as girls of her culture were taught. Soon she could sing and she could sew, make sweet bread and sweeter still music, though she danced to a different tune.
When the time came for those of her generation to leave their homes and have adventures before adulthood claimed them, the young woman went wandering too. As was tradition the others were given a glowing ember from the family hearth so they could start fires of their own, but her parents, in keeping with the cold way they'd raised her, gave her only a small grey stone. She took her lute and her breadpan with her, her finest needles and threads. And most precious of all she took a hopeful heart that she would find the fire she belonged by, the people from whom she had come.
The road was long and the journey eventful. Sometimes she walked for a while with travellers going the same way, but they spoke the companionable language of being together that the young woman had yet to learn.
At last she came to a town on the coast to the south of the land and decided to rest for a time. By day she let the rays of the sun warm her body while the waves of the sea soothed her mind. But when night fell a chill crept into the air, so she took out her lute and carefully tuned it and then began to play.
So enthralled she was with making her music, that at first she didn't notice the beach filling up with other young girls and boys until the sounds of their revelry reached her ears and she ventured over to watch them. They were singing and dancing together around a huge fire, intoxicated by magical herbs from far off lands, wild rhythms and moonlight on water.
“If only I could join them,” the young woman sighed as she stood in the shadows, her lute in her hand. “If only I knew their tune.”
But then the circle widened and they beckoned her in and she stayed and played with them all summer long. She learnt the words that they spoke and the music that moved them and sampled the herbs that they lived by. Some made her light-headed, some light-hearted and some so light on her calloused feet that she danced beyond the dawn. And the most sacred of all brought a light to her mind's eye that burned brighter than any mere star could do and warmed her through to her soul.
“These are my people. At last I am home!” the young woman thought as she drifted into dreams.
But then the seasons changed and the mist rolled in, her lute buckled and would not play. The herb takers packed up their possessions and stamped out their fire and left her with no farewell. She sat on the beach alone again and pondered upon her fate.
“Why did this happen?” she questioned, “How am I here?”
“I was mistaken”, she reasoned, “They were not my people. ”
And she picked up her breadpan, her stone, her needles and threads and walked away to the hills of the west to search for her home once more.
She was much colder now that she had experienced fire, and much lonelier on her own. One evening she sat by her cold grey stone in the mouth of a cave hanging her head down and weeping. A young man passing heard her sorrow and saw her plight and built a fire for them both from his own glowing ember. The young woman took out her breadpan and made him sweet bread and they ate together side by side as the hills grew dark around them. Gazing up at the night sky she spotted a shower of brilliant shooting stars.
“Look, ”she whispered, turning to her companion. “What joy they bring to my heart!”
But he saw only a lithe body and an eager face and drew her down beside him. That night she discovered the warmth of physical love.
“This is my partner. At last I am home!” the young woman thought as she drifted into dreams.
Winter passed and they sheltered together through the storms and the rain and the snow. But as spring came the boy grew restless and bored, he didn't tend the fire as well as he should do and many times it was almost extinguished. One night as she slept he crept from the cave and made off to the valley below. The young girl awoke to a pile of cold ashes, her breadpan broken beside it. Alone again she sat by her stone and pondered upon her fate.
“Why did this happen?” she questioned, “How am I here?”
“I was mistaken,” she reasoned, “He was not my partner.”
Her heart was heavy without his beating beside it, but in her belly there grew a child. She picked up her stone and her needles and threads and wearily she journeyed down from the hills to the city that stood on the plains.
The first thing the young woman did when she got there was to take out her needles and embroider a shawl to wrap her baby in. When people saw the beautiful work she was doing they begged her to stitch and sew for them. Soon she could afford a comfortable tent of her own and rich customers brought her braziers of fire so she could embroider her fine coloured flowers for them by night as well as by day.
But when her baby was born she found she could no longer sew, for her hands were busy with him. Her patrons took their braziers and business away, her needles rusted and were spoiled.
“Never mind, my son,” she said, wrapping warm him in the silken shawl, “We have riches enough for now. “
“This is the one to whom I truly belong,” she thought, “At last I am home!”
And she laid him down beside her next to the cold grey stone as he drifted into dreams.
While he slept she sang to him, for songs were all she had left to share. And the sound of her voice and her words were so true that people came from all over the city and paid money to her to listen. Thus she was able to feed and clothe her child and pay others in time to teach him such lessons as boys of his culture were taught. Soon he could read and he could ride, make fine gardens and weapons of war, and he grew into a man.
When the time came for those of his generation to leave their homes and have adventures before adulthood claimed them she handed him a piece of grey stone.
“Son,” she said, “You know I am a woman with no fire of my own. This is all I have to give you.”
But the young man said, “Keep it, I have no need of your stone. I am the fruit of your womb but only half your child. I am going to find my father's tribe and the fires that I belong by.”
After he had gone the woman wept and pondered upon her fate.
“Why did this happen?” she questioned, “How am I here?”
“I was mistaken,” she reasoned, “He could not be like me.”
She was too old now for the sound of her sorrow to bring lovers to warm her. Her once true voice was cracked with tears, all her talents and treasures were gone. She sat alone by the cold grey stone outside her tent as the darkness grew around her.
“I have known the joy of the dance and the pleasure of passion,” she thought, “the fierce love of mother for child. But all these have been fleeting and their loss has been hard, what else can I seek that will bring me warmth and will stay with me forever?”
Gazing up at the night sky, she spotted a shower of brilliant shooting stars.
“Look,” she whispered to herself, “What joy they bring to my heart!”
But shooting stars shine only briefly and after a while she remembered the visions she'd seen on the sands of her youth with the herbs that had opened her mind. She yearned for the blazing white light that had burned so brightly it had warmed her through to her soul.
“Perhaps that is the one warmth that I can call mine,” she decided, “but its fire is the brightest of all. I must seek it now so the rest of my days can be lived within its glow.”
And she set off for the mountain that stood in the north to ask the wise man who lived there, and knew of such things, the path she should take to the light.
The road was steep and the journey was tiring, her ageing limbs ached as she climbed. But her heart was as hopeful as when she'd been a young girl and first set out to find the fire she belonged by, the people from whom she had come.
“At last,” she thought, “I am almost home!”
It was cold on the mountain top and she shivered in the shawl she'd made for her baby as she described to the wise man her quest. He had no fire to sit beside, no companions, no partner, nor sons, and yet he seemed warm and lit from within by a glow she recognised.
“Teach me the secret of seeing the light,” she asked, “so I can live without fire like you.”
“Alas,” said the sage with the greatest compassion, “what I have takes years of disciplined training. It's too late for you to start learning now. But the light is inside you and you will see it again once before you die - for everybody does so.”
The woman was devastated, she aged many years, all her youthful hope was gone.
“My life has been wasted,” she thought, “my dreams all in vain. May death come soon to release me!”
And she struggled painfully back down the mountain and made her way to the slow flowing river that wound through the east of the land.
The woman sat on its banks with her stone beside her and awaited her time to die. By day she watched the sunshine play on the water and when night fell she watched the moon and the stars as they moved across the sky. But none of these had brilliant enough a light to bring her the joy she was seeking.
One evening as a golden sunset filled the heavens, the chill of disappointment crept into her heart and she wrapped the shawl around her shoulders as she pondered on her fate.
“Why did this happen?” she questioned, “How am I here?”
“I have been mistaken many times,” she reasoned, “The people I thought were mine were not. The partner I thought was mine was not. The fruit of my womb that once shared my heart was only half my child. And all the time I yearned for their companionship was time I lost finding the light.”
“I shall never know warmth!” the woman cried in despair, “What use is a cold grey stone?”
And she picked it up and raised her arm to hurl it into the river and be rid of its curse for good. But her old fingers fumbled and lost their grip and it dropped down to the rock beneath her. As flint struck flint two sparks ignited and leapt to the fringe of her shawl. They glowed brightly then burst into flame. Soon the fine worked flowers began to smoulder and smoke but still the old woman didn't shrug off her shawl or shrink from the blaze that embraced her.
“This is my fire, “ she thought, “At last I am home!”
And she opened her mind to the inner light that warmed her through to her very soul............as she drifted into dreams.
The Woman with no Fire of her Own
Once, in a time and place not far from here, there lived a woman who did not fit. Her skin was the same colour as everyone else's and she had the correct number of senses and limbs. But when she opened her mouth the strangest sounds came out, for she was a seeker and speaker of truth, a kind not often found in her land. She asked questions that couldn't or shouldn't be answered, was honest when she should have lied.
Her own closest relations found this particularly disquieting for every evening while other families sat together encircling their campfires, they grouped themselves around a cold stone. No warm glow lit their faces or hearts and they did not share the stories of progress and prowess the rest of their tribe enjoyed, but only told tales of spite. They were embarrassed enough by their difficult daughter and to prevent her revealing this, their dark secret, they told her she came from a distant race and could not mix with her neighbours and peers.
Already shunned for her curious ways this isolated the girl even more. But the little child grew as children will do in spite of life's efforts to stunt them. She found joy in the sun and the moon and the stars of the sky and quickly learnt such lessons as girls of her culture were taught. Soon she could sing and she could sew, make sweet bread and sweeter still music, though she danced to a different tune.
When the time came for those of her generation to leave their homes and have adventures before adulthood claimed them, the young woman went wandering too. As was tradition the others were given a glowing ember from the family hearth so they could start fires of their own, but her parents, in keeping with the cold way they'd raised her, gave her only a small grey stone. She took her lute and her breadpan with her, her finest needles and threads. And most precious of all she took a hopeful heart that she would find the fire she belonged by, the people from whom she had come.
The road was long and the journey eventful. Sometimes she walked for a while with travellers going the same way, but they spoke the companionable language of being together that the young woman had yet to learn.
At last she came to a town on the coast to the south of the land and decided to rest for a time. By day she let the rays of the sun warm her body while the waves of the sea soothed her mind. But when night fell a chill crept into the air, so she took out her lute and carefully tuned it and then began to play.
So enthralled she was with making her music, that at first she didn't notice the beach filling up with other young girls and boys until the sounds of their revelry reached her ears and she ventured over to watch them. They were singing and dancing together around a huge fire, intoxicated by magical herbs from far off lands, wild rhythms and moonlight on water.
“If only I could join them,” the young woman sighed as she stood in the shadows, her lute in her hand. “If only I knew their tune.”
But then the circle widened and they beckoned her in and she stayed and played with them all summer long. She learnt the words that they spoke and the music that moved them and sampled the herbs that they lived by. Some made her light-headed, some light-hearted and some so light on her calloused feet that she danced beyond the dawn. And the most sacred of all brought a light to her mind's eye that burned brighter than any mere star could do and warmed her through to her soul.
“These are my people. At last I am home!” the young woman thought as she drifted into dreams.
But then the seasons changed and the mist rolled in, her lute buckled and would not play. The herb takers packed up their possessions and stamped out their fire and left her with no farewell. She sat on the beach alone again and pondered upon her fate.
“Why did this happen?” she questioned, “How am I here?”
“I was mistaken”, she reasoned, “They were not my people. ”
And she picked up her breadpan, her stone, her needles and threads and walked away to the hills of the west to search for her home once more.
She was much colder now that she had experienced fire, and much lonelier on her own. One evening she sat by her cold grey stone in the mouth of a cave hanging her head down and weeping. A young man passing heard her sorrow and saw her plight and built a fire for them both from his own glowing ember. The young woman took out her breadpan and made him sweet bread and they ate together side by side as the hills grew dark around them. Gazing up at the night sky she spotted a shower of brilliant shooting stars.
“Look, ”she whispered, turning to her companion. “What joy they bring to my heart!”
But he saw only a lithe body and an eager face and drew her down beside him. That night she discovered the warmth of physical love.
“This is my partner. At last I am home!” the young woman thought as she drifted into dreams.
Winter passed and they sheltered together through the storms and the rain and the snow. But as spring came the boy grew restless and bored, he didn't tend the fire as well as he should do and many times it was almost extinguished. One night as she slept he crept from the cave and made off to the valley below. The young girl awoke to a pile of cold ashes, her breadpan broken beside it. Alone again she sat by her stone and pondered upon her fate.
“Why did this happen?” she questioned, “How am I here?”
“I was mistaken,” she reasoned, “He was not my partner.”
Her heart was heavy without his beating beside it, but in her belly there grew a child. She picked up her stone and her needles and threads and wearily she journeyed down from the hills to the city that stood on the plains.
The first thing the young woman did when she got there was to take out her needles and embroider a shawl to wrap her baby in. When people saw the beautiful work she was doing they begged her to stitch and sew for them. Soon she could afford a comfortable tent of her own and rich customers brought her braziers of fire so she could embroider her fine coloured flowers for them by night as well as by day.
But when her baby was born she found she could no longer sew, for her hands were busy with him. Her patrons took their braziers and business away, her needles rusted and were spoiled.
“Never mind, my son,” she said, wrapping warm him in the silken shawl, “We have riches enough for now. “
“This is the one to whom I truly belong,” she thought, “At last I am home!”
And she laid him down beside her next to the cold grey stone as he drifted into dreams.
While he slept she sang to him, for songs were all she had left to share. And the sound of her voice and her words were so true that people came from all over the city and paid money to her to listen. Thus she was able to feed and clothe her child and pay others in time to teach him such lessons as boys of his culture were taught. Soon he could read and he could ride, make fine gardens and weapons of war, and he grew into a man.
When the time came for those of his generation to leave their homes and have adventures before adulthood claimed them she handed him a piece of grey stone.
“Son,” she said, “You know I am a woman with no fire of my own. This is all I have to give you.”
But the young man said, “Keep it, I have no need of your stone. I am the fruit of your womb but only half your child. I am going to find my father's tribe and the fires that I belong by.”
After he had gone the woman wept and pondered upon her fate.
“Why did this happen?” she questioned, “How am I here?”
“I was mistaken,” she reasoned, “He could not be like me.”
She was too old now for the sound of her sorrow to bring lovers to warm her. Her once true voice was cracked with tears, all her talents and treasures were gone. She sat alone by the cold grey stone outside her tent as the darkness grew around her.
“I have known the joy of the dance and the pleasure of passion,” she thought, “the fierce love of mother for child. But all these have been fleeting and their loss has been hard, what else can I seek that will bring me warmth and will stay with me forever?”
Gazing up at the night sky, she spotted a shower of brilliant shooting stars.
“Look,” she whispered to herself, “What joy they bring to my heart!”
But shooting stars shine only briefly and after a while she remembered the visions she'd seen on the sands of her youth with the herbs that had opened her mind. She yearned for the blazing white light that had burned so brightly it had warmed her through to her soul.
“Perhaps that is the one warmth that I can call mine,” she decided, “but its fire is the brightest of all. I must seek it now so the rest of my days can be lived within its glow.”
And she set off for the mountain that stood in the north to ask the wise man who lived there, and knew of such things, the path she should take to the light.
The road was steep and the journey was tiring, her ageing limbs ached as she climbed. But her heart was as hopeful as when she'd been a young girl and first set out to find the fire she belonged by, the people from whom she had come.
“At last,” she thought, “I am almost home!”
It was cold on the mountain top and she shivered in the shawl she'd made for her baby as she described to the wise man her quest. He had no fire to sit beside, no companions, no partner, nor sons, and yet he seemed warm and lit from within by a glow she recognised.
“Teach me the secret of seeing the light,” she asked, “so I can live without fire like you.”
“Alas,” said the sage with the greatest compassion, “what I have takes years of disciplined training. It's too late for you to start learning now. But the light is inside you and you will see it again once before you die - for everybody does so.”
The woman was devastated, she aged many years, all her youthful hope was gone.
“My life has been wasted,” she thought, “my dreams all in vain. May death come soon to release me!”
And she struggled painfully back down the mountain and made her way to the slow flowing river that wound through the east of the land.
The woman sat on its banks with her stone beside her and awaited her time to die. By day she watched the sunshine play on the water and when night fell she watched the moon and the stars as they moved across the sky. But none of these had brilliant enough a light to bring her the joy she was seeking.
One evening as a golden sunset filled the heavens, the chill of disappointment crept into her heart and she wrapped the shawl around her shoulders as she pondered on her fate.
“Why did this happen?” she questioned, “How am I here?”
“I have been mistaken many times,” she reasoned, “The people I thought were mine were not. The partner I thought was mine was not. The fruit of my womb that once shared my heart was only half my child. And all the time I yearned for their companionship was time I lost finding the light.”
“I shall never know warmth!” the woman cried in despair, “What use is a cold grey stone?”
And she picked it up and raised her arm to hurl it into the river and be rid of its curse for good. But her old fingers fumbled and lost their grip and it dropped down to the rock beneath her. As flint struck flint two sparks ignited and leapt to the fringe of her shawl. They glowed brightly then burst into flame. Soon the fine worked flowers began to smoulder and smoke but still the old woman didn't shrug off her shawl or shrink from the blaze that embraced her.
“This is my fire, “ she thought, “At last I am home!”
And she opened her mind to the inner light that warmed her through to her very soul............as she drifted into dreams.
Let me tell you a story #2
Well, I paid my fee and made the deadline for the short story competition and waited for the day they’d publish the results on the site. The top placed entries were to receive a cash prize but all the runners up were also to be published in an anthology and my vanity could think of no greater delight! But there was some hold up somewhere in the process and I had to log in over and over again until finally the page had changed and there was a the list of the winning stories in descending order right down through Runners Up to Highly Commended who, despite their ‘honourable mention’ would not be in the book.
I scanned down the list in frantic hope and anticipation...mine wasn’t first...or second... or third...but The Woman with No Fire of her Own was in the list of Runners up and it would be in the anthology! It would be in a real printed book that people could buy because people I didn’t know had read it and thought it was good enough, not to be kind, not to boost my ego or get into my own good books but because they thought it had merit. I went round with a stupid smile on my face for days...
This is not the end of the story of the story by a long way but I’m wondering if you’d like to read the story itself now? There have been a few adjustments over the years and the word count has extended a little from the original Richard and Judy version but the essence of it is unchanged and I’ll see if I can find a copy to copy on here for my next post later today...
I scanned down the list in frantic hope and anticipation...mine wasn’t first...or second... or third...but The Woman with No Fire of her Own was in the list of Runners up and it would be in the anthology! It would be in a real printed book that people could buy because people I didn’t know had read it and thought it was good enough, not to be kind, not to boost my ego or get into my own good books but because they thought it had merit. I went round with a stupid smile on my face for days...
This is not the end of the story of the story by a long way but I’m wondering if you’d like to read the story itself now? There have been a few adjustments over the years and the word count has extended a little from the original Richard and Judy version but the essence of it is unchanged and I’ll see if I can find a copy to copy on here for my next post later today...
Let me tell you a story #1
I haven’t been as feeling as upbeat the last few days as I’d have liked and that makes it hard to write on here as its supposed to be about recording and sharing joy.
So, I thought as most of you are strangers and you don’t know much about my life until it came to this I’d share a story about a story I once wrote which has a touch of the feelgood factor. It’ll be in instalments so my hands and your heads don’t get tired but then the best stories are...
I was living alone and isolated in a tiny one room flat after some less than successful life changes I’d made when I heard on the Richard and Judy show that they were having a short story competition. I fancy myself as having a bit of a way with words and I thought this might be a way to turn my life around for the better but I couldn’t think what to write...The word limit was only 1000 words and that’s shorter than a newsy letter so that was a challenge too and inspiration wouldn’t come.
After the competition had been running for a week or two they were reading out extracts of some of the entries they’d had so far and saying basically why they didn’t like them. There emphasis was write about what you know and hinted about the kind of things they thought we would know about...just ordinary things to do with an ordinary British family life...but I was devastated as it brought it home to me how far mine had diverged from anything the general public would consider normal for an intelligent middle aged woman. And looking back it seemed that all I’d ever really known was about not fitting the mould and being an outsider...
So I decided to write about that... and the story was called The Woman with no Fire of her Own.
And I sent it off so sure that it had something special in it and it would change my life...and never heard anything more again! And I decided that I was totally wrong and I really couldn’t write and put the thing away and forgot pretty much all about it...
A few years later things had looked up a little, I had a flat with a tiny separate kitchen and bathroom and had reconnected with a friend from a few years earlier. I can’t remember why exactly, whether I’d been talking about being a misfit or about being a ‘failed’ writer but I emailed him a copy of the story. And he raved about it. He’d done a bit of work as a story teller so I felt maybe he wasn’t just being kind, and his reaction was so positive that I gave a printed copy of it to another man friend and he too said it was great. He actually said it made him cry and he wasn’t a man given to expressing emotion so this was high praise indeed...
So then I felt a bit more positive about the little tale and it’s telling and showed a few more people and they were quite positive too. And eventually I was persuaded to enter it in another competition...
So, I thought as most of you are strangers and you don’t know much about my life until it came to this I’d share a story about a story I once wrote which has a touch of the feelgood factor. It’ll be in instalments so my hands and your heads don’t get tired but then the best stories are...
I was living alone and isolated in a tiny one room flat after some less than successful life changes I’d made when I heard on the Richard and Judy show that they were having a short story competition. I fancy myself as having a bit of a way with words and I thought this might be a way to turn my life around for the better but I couldn’t think what to write...The word limit was only 1000 words and that’s shorter than a newsy letter so that was a challenge too and inspiration wouldn’t come.
After the competition had been running for a week or two they were reading out extracts of some of the entries they’d had so far and saying basically why they didn’t like them. There emphasis was write about what you know and hinted about the kind of things they thought we would know about...just ordinary things to do with an ordinary British family life...but I was devastated as it brought it home to me how far mine had diverged from anything the general public would consider normal for an intelligent middle aged woman. And looking back it seemed that all I’d ever really known was about not fitting the mould and being an outsider...
So I decided to write about that... and the story was called The Woman with no Fire of her Own.
And I sent it off so sure that it had something special in it and it would change my life...and never heard anything more again! And I decided that I was totally wrong and I really couldn’t write and put the thing away and forgot pretty much all about it...
A few years later things had looked up a little, I had a flat with a tiny separate kitchen and bathroom and had reconnected with a friend from a few years earlier. I can’t remember why exactly, whether I’d been talking about being a misfit or about being a ‘failed’ writer but I emailed him a copy of the story. And he raved about it. He’d done a bit of work as a story teller so I felt maybe he wasn’t just being kind, and his reaction was so positive that I gave a printed copy of it to another man friend and he too said it was great. He actually said it made him cry and he wasn’t a man given to expressing emotion so this was high praise indeed...
So then I felt a bit more positive about the little tale and it’s telling and showed a few more people and they were quite positive too. And eventually I was persuaded to enter it in another competition...
Late night extra
Just read about a seal getting trapped in the cooling tank at Hinkley Point power station and it reminded me of my dream last night in which there were baby seals playing just off the shore here... only because it was a dream it didn't look much like here of course. The seal cubs didn't look how I would have expected them to either, being totally black rather the dark brownish grey of the ones I've seen before and I kept looking at them in my dream to check that's what they were. The one in the picture in the news picture looks jet black too though...
It's not the first time I've had a 'premonition' dream about a news item but I usually only remember it properly when I actually see or hear the news so it not all that impressive...and the only time I've dreamt what the winning lottery numbers were they were all close but wrong.
There's also an item on the BBC pages about an experiment that attempts to mimic life as an isolated elderly person for young people to try. Apparently a lot of old people have failing health and little contact with the outside world, succumbing to loneliness and depression. Thank goodness I'm not likely to get there that's all I can say ha ha!
Oh well, off to bed if my pjs have warmed up enough on the radiator. It's so cold a hot water bottle wouldn't be excessive but we're almost at summer solstice and I'm not in a tent so that just wouldn't seem right. Not optimistic re how much tennis will actually be played at Wimbledon this week...the forecast's pretty awful. Oh well, maybe I'll get some more of my tree done if my eyes aren't fixed on the TV screen...
It's not the first time I've had a 'premonition' dream about a news item but I usually only remember it properly when I actually see or hear the news so it not all that impressive...and the only time I've dreamt what the winning lottery numbers were they were all close but wrong.
There's also an item on the BBC pages about an experiment that attempts to mimic life as an isolated elderly person for young people to try. Apparently a lot of old people have failing health and little contact with the outside world, succumbing to loneliness and depression. Thank goodness I'm not likely to get there that's all I can say ha ha!
Oh well, off to bed if my pjs have warmed up enough on the radiator. It's so cold a hot water bottle wouldn't be excessive but we're almost at summer solstice and I'm not in a tent so that just wouldn't seem right. Not optimistic re how much tennis will actually be played at Wimbledon this week...the forecast's pretty awful. Oh well, maybe I'll get some more of my tree done if my eyes aren't fixed on the TV screen...
Sunday, 19 June 2011
waving not drowning
Well, I’ve been wielding my crochet hook and have ‘turned over’ a few new leaves as shown above. They will look like leaves when they are scattered over the things that will look like branches eventually...honestly!
Made a roast dinner of sorts with Quorn sausages and some of my famously delicious gravy that carnivores gaze in amazement when they taste and say how do you do this without meat? Finally about five pm getting out and walking along the sea wall a little way. There’s a part just outside town that was known as Old Maid’s Walk some years ago and something to do with the lie of the beach there makes the waves make such a soothing sound. I like to think they liked to go and calm their emotions listening decorously to the sound before Ann Summers was invented.
There are a lot of ways I like to spend Sundays and finding something possible within my current limitations and without kidnapping, carjacking or otherwise breaking and entering into people’s lives is constant challenge. Thus finding five things to be grateful for is too but here we go...
1) Finding the cherries
2) Making gravy (and thinking to try freezing the remainder as it’s hard to make just three spoonfuls at a time)
3) The sound of the waves
4) watching fascinated with a small randomly gathered group as middle aged swimmers cavorted with glee in the surf and a man apparently fully dressed in normal clothes (including knapsack) attempted to launch a canoe from the beach while sitting in it. He made it, but I think he might need to use the washing machine when he gets home
5) The young man serving in the supermarket having a little chat with me when I said I felt self-conscious being the only one in the store not buying alcohol!
Life is just a bag of cherries
I'm starting writing this still in bed...very tired today. It was my plan to try to get outdoors for a little while but we shall have to see if I shall see the sea (that's like a tongue twister for the fingertips ha ha!)
Brushing crumbs off the sofa throw this morning there was something disappeared under my hand that looked for a moment like a cherry stem (probably a piece of thread from craftwork) and it crossed my mind I hadn't eaten any for ages. Then it crossed my mind that I had actually picked out a handful at the green grocers the other day. I remembered taking them to the till...what happened next? Had I left them behind? Had the lady serving forgotten to put them in the little recycled plastic bag that had my other purchases in? I hadn't noticed them when I took the posy of sweet peas out or a remarkably fine looking parsnip to admire and plan to cook with. I looked in the shopper I'd had with me, hanging in the hallway since...no not there. I looked in the fridge...and there they were nestling between a miniature broccoli floret and a couple more parsnips still in the little recycled bag in the veg box in my fridge!
Seeing the veg made me realise how much I fancy a nut roast dinner today but it's a lot of hassle to go to for one and a lot of exhaustion for a feeble one! Compromises must be made when catering on a sinking ship... but at least there'll be fresh cherries for dessert!
Brushing crumbs off the sofa throw this morning there was something disappeared under my hand that looked for a moment like a cherry stem (probably a piece of thread from craftwork) and it crossed my mind I hadn't eaten any for ages. Then it crossed my mind that I had actually picked out a handful at the green grocers the other day. I remembered taking them to the till...what happened next? Had I left them behind? Had the lady serving forgotten to put them in the little recycled plastic bag that had my other purchases in? I hadn't noticed them when I took the posy of sweet peas out or a remarkably fine looking parsnip to admire and plan to cook with. I looked in the shopper I'd had with me, hanging in the hallway since...no not there. I looked in the fridge...and there they were nestling between a miniature broccoli floret and a couple more parsnips still in the little recycled bag in the veg box in my fridge!
Seeing the veg made me realise how much I fancy a nut roast dinner today but it's a lot of hassle to go to for one and a lot of exhaustion for a feeble one! Compromises must be made when catering on a sinking ship... but at least there'll be fresh cherries for dessert!
Saturday, 18 June 2011
Watch this space #2: Laying down roots
So...where was I? Oh yes... I remember 1) Pleased about solving a word game appropriately 2) pleased that my new penfriend seems someone I’m OK with writing to...
3) Watched a brilliant BBC4 doc about the history of British outdoor music festivals. Vintage footage of various musicians and mostly happy fans from jazz ones at Beaulieu in the fifties onwards. Stirred the old rebel spirit in me and brought back happy memories of my various incarnations in just this life time ha ha! It’s the folk festival weekend here funnily enough. Can hear some punky rather than folky sounds wafting up from the town...
Above programme much too enthralling to get on with above project though so knitted a few rows of a strip that will eventually become part of a blanket for Oxfam.
4) Later found the Camille, the chameleon GELF, episode of Red Dwarf on Dave. Like an old friend popping in. So stitched a little with that in the background...chuckling and musing on the inherent philosophical bent in such anarchic comedy.
and 5) Am alive and able to do all these things.
Random facts of fineness
Ok, the first one really is random. There's a Trackword puzzle in the Radio Times - a nine letter square to make words from 'tracking' the letters in order from adjacent or diagonal squares. There's a long word that uses all of the letters too and that's often hard to spot though sometimes if you look at the list of words you have found they give you a clue...it might even be made up of two of them...if you've got 'black' plus 'bird' for example or you might have 'lifting' and notice the remaining letters are 'u' an 'p'. Anyway, this time I had a few words but not the nine letter one until suddenly I made the connection between two that were in front of me and said out loud in that bright tone you do when you have one...'brainwave!' ha ha!
The other thing is that I have received my first letter from a new penfriend. He's a prisoner on Death Row, a real one in Florida not the one I sometimes quip I'm on. I'd been thinking of maybe trying to find some new virtual friends since the old flesh and blood ones so rarely communicate now, and then I saw an ad in the Big Issue for an organisation that provides penfriends for these inmates, some of whom have no contact with the outside world and can live locked up for twenty three hours a day for years and years and years. Never mind whether you think the death penalty is right or wrong, or if you consider some people deserve it. As far as I'm concerned no matter how many wrongs you put together they still don't really make a right. And if sometimes I feel cooped up and kept from things I love and that, whatever d:ream may have sung about in some cases things can only get worse, then their situation is at least as grim... So it seemed a simple humanitarian act to offer to write to someone if correspondence was pretty much all they could do for entertainment.
However I'd been a tad worried that maybe it might seem a chore. You don't get to choose a person you like the sound of (probably best for all manner of reasons!), you just get sent a name, and even the most open minded of us might have some negative assumptions to make about the sort of person that might be attached to. But I'd sent a little introductory letter to this name and had a pleasant, articulate, intelligent letter back to fingers crossed we can do each other a little good while we are here...
If you think I'm odd that's perfectly OK. It's my blog and I can smile at what I want to!
The other thing is that I have received my first letter from a new penfriend. He's a prisoner on Death Row, a real one in Florida not the one I sometimes quip I'm on. I'd been thinking of maybe trying to find some new virtual friends since the old flesh and blood ones so rarely communicate now, and then I saw an ad in the Big Issue for an organisation that provides penfriends for these inmates, some of whom have no contact with the outside world and can live locked up for twenty three hours a day for years and years and years. Never mind whether you think the death penalty is right or wrong, or if you consider some people deserve it. As far as I'm concerned no matter how many wrongs you put together they still don't really make a right. And if sometimes I feel cooped up and kept from things I love and that, whatever d:ream may have sung about in some cases things can only get worse, then their situation is at least as grim... So it seemed a simple humanitarian act to offer to write to someone if correspondence was pretty much all they could do for entertainment.
However I'd been a tad worried that maybe it might seem a chore. You don't get to choose a person you like the sound of (probably best for all manner of reasons!), you just get sent a name, and even the most open minded of us might have some negative assumptions to make about the sort of person that might be attached to. But I'd sent a little introductory letter to this name and had a pleasant, articulate, intelligent letter back to fingers crossed we can do each other a little good while we are here...
If you think I'm odd that's perfectly OK. It's my blog and I can smile at what I want to!
Friday, 17 June 2011
New life in my hands
I've just had such a lovely evening with Laura, Dot, Abi, Dylan, Aril, Jo, Tilly and Chumba. More beings than I've shared an enclosed space with for many a moon! Some of them were covered in fur and let me stroke them, one was tiny enough to lie in my arms and fall asleep. I cried. Ever since I knew that I had cancer I've wanted to hold a baby. I'm not a traditionally maternal type... I don't have an urge to dote on other people's infants as a rule. This was to do with something quite different from that, about remembering and reconnecting with the beginning of life as I move towards the end. Wonderful, I feel so blessed...
So, number 4 feelgood factor for today...meeting and spending good times with new people who fed me (spinach and feta pie - yum yum!) and nurtured me and made me feel I had something to offer too.
And numbers 5 to 93...holding sweet little Aril!!!
So, number 4 feelgood factor for today...meeting and spending good times with new people who fed me (spinach and feta pie - yum yum!) and nurtured me and made me feel I had something to offer too.
And numbers 5 to 93...holding sweet little Aril!!!
Watch this space #1
Well the moon shining over the sea last night was good, just little wisps of cloud moving across its face in an Art Nouveau kind of way. You never seem to see clouds quite like that in daylight do you?
Then this morning (yes, finally slept) was woken by wind and rain lashing against the window...
Sent a message to one of the ‘absent friends’ asking if he minds me putting the large tool box he left in my cupboard somewhere less in the way. He sent one back saying ‘No, that's fine’ which is OK I know but not nearly as nice as ‘Heavens, I still haven’t finished those jobs I started have I? Let’s fix a time for that’ or even ‘Sorry it’s been so long since I’ve seen you, I’ll drop by and pick that up and we can have a chat!’ I’m so easily emotionally hurt these days, it was all I could do not to cry...
Anyway, trying not to dwell on that space...what about this? Gradually, over the next few weeks this will, if things turn out the way I intend them, become a wall hanging of my version of a Tree of Life.
Creativity is a tremendous comfort to me now. I’ve always designed and made things, in fact there was a time in my life when almost everyone I knew had a garment or a piece of jewelry or something around the place that I had made and they had actually paid good money for! Now, as long as I stay within the limits of what my damaged body can do, it still gives me pleasure and purpose. Makes me feel there’s a reason I’m still here, when I’m here so much on my own...
Things for which I have been grateful since last I thought of some...
1) Moonlight on water
2) Rain on the window
3) Fabric on the frame
Then this morning (yes, finally slept) was woken by wind and rain lashing against the window...
Sent a message to one of the ‘absent friends’ asking if he minds me putting the large tool box he left in my cupboard somewhere less in the way. He sent one back saying ‘No, that's fine’ which is OK I know but not nearly as nice as ‘Heavens, I still haven’t finished those jobs I started have I? Let’s fix a time for that’ or even ‘Sorry it’s been so long since I’ve seen you, I’ll drop by and pick that up and we can have a chat!’ I’m so easily emotionally hurt these days, it was all I could do not to cry...
Anyway, trying not to dwell on that space...what about this? Gradually, over the next few weeks this will, if things turn out the way I intend them, become a wall hanging of my version of a Tree of Life.
Creativity is a tremendous comfort to me now. I’ve always designed and made things, in fact there was a time in my life when almost everyone I knew had a garment or a piece of jewelry or something around the place that I had made and they had actually paid good money for! Now, as long as I stay within the limits of what my damaged body can do, it still gives me pleasure and purpose. Makes me feel there’s a reason I’m still here, when I’m here so much on my own...
Things for which I have been grateful since last I thought of some...
1) Moonlight on water
2) Rain on the window
3) Fabric on the frame
The long dark night of the insomniac
Another night finding it hard to get/stay comfortable and sleep. The beautiful big moon contributing just now but lately beginning to feel more often like an ill person than ever before. Of course it could merely be some bug or whatever bugging me, with cancer it's so easy to worry everything that feels not right in the body is IT. 3 am is a fretful time for anyone to be awake who does not want to be, and fretting about not wanting to be is enough to keep you awake! I wrote a little poem about it a few years back...let's see if I can remember it...
In the noisome silence of the night
I toss and turn another page
Conscious that to close my eyes
Will raise the lid on darkness
Think that's how it went anyway, 'tis certainly how it goes ha ha!
In the noisome silence of the night
I toss and turn another page
Conscious that to close my eyes
Will raise the lid on darkness
Think that's how it went anyway, 'tis certainly how it goes ha ha!
Thursday, 16 June 2011
Out on(in) the town
Tired this evening but I have been out...walked down to the town and the surprisingly flat calm sea. Bit of shopping, bank, PO, coffee and cake and then a cab back up the hill. Time was when I never did anything but walk everywhere and at breakneck speed to boot. But I'm so glad when I can get outside and feel the sun or wind or rain on my skin...or as today all three in quick succession!
So I only have three things to be grateful for to list tonight as two already counted...
3) British weather and the wonderful countryside it creates
4) Donnie Darko in the post...I love my son (and that film!)
5) Invitation to tea at newish friend Laura's. 'Tis four whole months since anything remotely similar happened. Don't know why I'm writing it on here...will be on Sky News in an hour or two I'm thinking!
So I only have three things to be grateful for to list tonight as two already counted...
3) British weather and the wonderful countryside it creates
4) Donnie Darko in the post...I love my son (and that film!)
5) Invitation to tea at newish friend Laura's. 'Tis four whole months since anything remotely similar happened. Don't know why I'm writing it on here...will be on Sky News in an hour or two I'm thinking!
Never judge a book by the cover...
This is my second example of a trite saying coming true in just a few days...
Bought a couple of second hand books from the box outside the Coastguard’s look out post down the road including ‘The Pilot’s Wife’ by Anita Shreve. Partly because this had an image on the front not too dissimilar from the view from the box - of white railings and the sea below with the odd boat or two - and partly because around here pilots steer ships more often than planes, that’s the kind I thought it meant. Then I read the blurb on the back and it said this wife was used to his work taking him away from home but after one absence she found he had died in a crash...and I still didn’t get it and thought they meant in a car! Only in the next paragraph when I read that his plane had come down in the sea did I begin to get a twinge of doubt...maybe it was the use of the possessive pronoun...
Here is a pictorial representation of this blog...muse, muse, muse, muse...with an underlying framework of food. We have very philosophical cake shops round here you know...
Heartwarming thought for the day #2 memories of a special evening with Bob...
Bought a couple of second hand books from the box outside the Coastguard’s look out post down the road including ‘The Pilot’s Wife’ by Anita Shreve. Partly because this had an image on the front not too dissimilar from the view from the box - of white railings and the sea below with the odd boat or two - and partly because around here pilots steer ships more often than planes, that’s the kind I thought it meant. Then I read the blurb on the back and it said this wife was used to his work taking him away from home but after one absence she found he had died in a crash...and I still didn’t get it and thought they meant in a car! Only in the next paragraph when I read that his plane had come down in the sea did I begin to get a twinge of doubt...maybe it was the use of the possessive pronoun...
Here is a pictorial representation of this blog...muse, muse, muse, muse...with an underlying framework of food. We have very philosophical cake shops round here you know...
Heartwarming thought for the day #2 memories of a special evening with Bob...
You know who you are!
Can't get a data connection in my bedroom today via wireless router or phone alone. Trying to remember if I built a concrete bunker round it yesterday...um...er...no, don't think so...will just have to write a draft and get up and transfer my words of wisdom later...
Kind thoughts to Jo who's having a tummy op today and Heidi who's getting a verdict on her eye problem and their worried husbands of course!
Bathed with a latex glove over my right hand last night...interesting! The cut's beginning to heal now so intend to get the fabric for my Tree of Life picture attached to the frame which I hope will inspire me to carry on and finish it. My own blood on the background would have been relevant I know but not really my artistic style...
For a while now the flesh has been weaker than the mind, but now the mind's beginning to gaze off into the distance a bit. Can lie for hours in a state of suspended animation, breathing low, eyes closed or soft focussed, hardly a thought in my head or none that registers anyway. All the times I've tried to reach that state through consciously meditating...
First heartwarming thing of the day ... lovely long email from the lovely Mr Hughes. (Names have NOT been changed to protect the innocent...he is often called lovely you know!) Much as I appreciate the kindness of the newly met and those not met at all, nothing beats communicating with someone who has known you a while with shared points of reference and memories. It's a rare treat for me these days and it really does get that oxytocin flowing!
Kind thoughts to Jo who's having a tummy op today and Heidi who's getting a verdict on her eye problem and their worried husbands of course!
Bathed with a latex glove over my right hand last night...interesting! The cut's beginning to heal now so intend to get the fabric for my Tree of Life picture attached to the frame which I hope will inspire me to carry on and finish it. My own blood on the background would have been relevant I know but not really my artistic style...
For a while now the flesh has been weaker than the mind, but now the mind's beginning to gaze off into the distance a bit. Can lie for hours in a state of suspended animation, breathing low, eyes closed or soft focussed, hardly a thought in my head or none that registers anyway. All the times I've tried to reach that state through consciously meditating...
First heartwarming thing of the day ... lovely long email from the lovely Mr Hughes. (Names have NOT been changed to protect the innocent...he is often called lovely you know!) Much as I appreciate the kindness of the newly met and those not met at all, nothing beats communicating with someone who has known you a while with shared points of reference and memories. It's a rare treat for me these days and it really does get that oxytocin flowing!
Wednesday, 15 June 2011
Little things that pleased my mind...
The trouble with extra energy in the kitty is unlike money it can’t be put aside or saved but I think I spent mine after my acupuncture session quite well...I persevered and finally succeeded in finding the photo to scan for yesterday’s post, framed a twelve year old PC printout of a colourful fractal and hung it on the wall along with along with a ceramic heart I bought myself for my Valentine’s birthday and a little embroidered snowflake someone made for my Christmas card, made a veggie bake with cheese and seeds on top, ordered some herbs to make tea to help with my infections, sent some ‘business’ emails including one via the Macmillan link to lobby my MP about cuts to benefits for cancer suffers, did the huge mound of washing up (where does it all come from – there’s only one of me!) and cut my hand quite deeply on a broken glass after which I fell asleep. Oh well, sleep is an important part of healing isn’t it?
And today’s reasons to be cheerful are...
1) All of the above (except cutting my finger!)
2) Roots and Wings Organic Totally Tempting Toffee Caramel Biscuits...how good can a cookie be...or indeed how long its name?
3) Discovered for real that you shouldn’t judge a book by its cover see below (or above depending on how far I get with this tonight)
4) Scrambled eggs...what a wonderful invention for a hasty tasty snack!
5) That Miras (whoever she may be!) saw a fox and cubs playing in her garden and thought to tell me as she knew it was the kind of thing I’d have liked to have seen and would have put on here if I had...
And today’s reasons to be cheerful are...
1) All of the above (except cutting my finger!)
2) Roots and Wings Organic Totally Tempting Toffee Caramel Biscuits...how good can a cookie be...or indeed how long its name?
3) Discovered for real that you shouldn’t judge a book by its cover see below (or above depending on how far I get with this tonight)
4) Scrambled eggs...what a wonderful invention for a hasty tasty snack!
5) That Miras (whoever she may be!) saw a fox and cubs playing in her garden and thought to tell me as she knew it was the kind of thing I’d have liked to have seen and would have put on here if I had...
Life's too short?
These long summer evenings I look out my window and long to be out walking on the beach or having a little barbecue there as the sun goes down maybe. I could even camp with kindly help. If only the joy that these things would bring me could outweigh the hassle involved for anyone I asked enough for it to actually happen!
I've never been scared of asking...I even once, in a moment of astonishingly misguided self-belief, asked a man to marry me...but I've learnt that yes means no, and silence means no, and excuses are rude, and only a straight no is truly respectful and kind.
Everyone's entitled to preferences as to how they spend their time and with whom and if, even in the knowledge that opportunities to do so are running out, people I would prefer to be spending my time with in some way choose not even to spend a minute of theirs answering a text, or five or so responding to an email let alone an hour or two in my company then I absolutely respect that decision. It might make me sad, and that's fine too...I think it's great that I still have feelings albeit misplaced. I think it's great that the people I miss now won't miss me when I'm gone as they all have plenty of people they do love that they will and who wants to bring extra suffering into this world? Not I!
* * * * *
Last night I watched a programme about disabled children growing up. Lots of moving moments about them or their families overcoming ordeals but the most uplifting bit for me (absolutely no pun intended) was a young boy with achondroplasty who had moved to New Zealand where they have ski instruction programmes for the disabled. And he had turned out to be super-abled at this sport where lack of height and weight don't matter and won a gold medal competing against his normal peers! I love that he's found a way to shine...and he's only ten years old. Brilliant!
I've never been scared of asking...I even once, in a moment of astonishingly misguided self-belief, asked a man to marry me...but I've learnt that yes means no, and silence means no, and excuses are rude, and only a straight no is truly respectful and kind.
Everyone's entitled to preferences as to how they spend their time and with whom and if, even in the knowledge that opportunities to do so are running out, people I would prefer to be spending my time with in some way choose not even to spend a minute of theirs answering a text, or five or so responding to an email let alone an hour or two in my company then I absolutely respect that decision. It might make me sad, and that's fine too...I think it's great that I still have feelings albeit misplaced. I think it's great that the people I miss now won't miss me when I'm gone as they all have plenty of people they do love that they will and who wants to bring extra suffering into this world? Not I!
* * * * *
Last night I watched a programme about disabled children growing up. Lots of moving moments about them or their families overcoming ordeals but the most uplifting bit for me (absolutely no pun intended) was a young boy with achondroplasty who had moved to New Zealand where they have ski instruction programmes for the disabled. And he had turned out to be super-abled at this sport where lack of height and weight don't matter and won a gold medal competing against his normal peers! I love that he's found a way to shine...and he's only ten years old. Brilliant!
Tuesday, 14 June 2011
The past's so bright...
Mmmm, acupuncture...how much better do I feel now? Quite a bit actually, if you’d prefer the non-rhetoric approach. So you get some more of my ramblings...
I'm sure we've all heard of people saying re their blogs, or tweets, or Facebook status updates that they sometimes find themselves writing about their lives more than actually living them. Well for those for whom living is fast becoming a technical term rather than an experience that's absolutely fine. Plus I can 'speak' and nobody has to feel they ought to reply, feigning interest etc. Gotta be good all round eh?
Anyways, here we have the earliest surviving photo of me (as far as I know). Clearly the future was so bright at the time it was orange...either that or the glow from my hair was tinting all things around. Interesting to see how hairstyles come back into favour...have been sporting something not too dissimilar in recent times, albeit not so brightly coloured.
You may also spot I had the building blocks for life to hand - where did it all go so wrong?
I'm sure we've all heard of people saying re their blogs, or tweets, or Facebook status updates that they sometimes find themselves writing about their lives more than actually living them. Well for those for whom living is fast becoming a technical term rather than an experience that's absolutely fine. Plus I can 'speak' and nobody has to feel they ought to reply, feigning interest etc. Gotta be good all round eh?
Anyways, here we have the earliest surviving photo of me (as far as I know). Clearly the future was so bright at the time it was orange...either that or the glow from my hair was tinting all things around. Interesting to see how hairstyles come back into favour...have been sporting something not too dissimilar in recent times, albeit not so brightly coloured.
You may also spot I had the building blocks for life to hand - where did it all go so wrong?
Later...
Noon (ish)
Unless something my physical and mental state improves I can tell today is going to be one of those days when finding five things to be grateful for will be a challenge. So will make a start right now...pause while typing to enjoy the birds singing...um, so here we go...
1) Birdsong outside my window
2) sent FB message to the aforementioned Chris to say he had been mentioned in despatches and he sent one back saying ‘Bless You’. Heaven’s above, blessed in the morning and a hug to come in the afternoon (from the lovely Rachel) ...feel almost cherished!
Later... acupuncture, hug, a little light retail therapy and ready to chill, maybe nap but still waiting for nurse who didn’t make it this am so can’t relax. Must try not to be grumpy with her. Back to list...come on...what to be thankful for?
3) Little boy in blue on the beach with ball and black Labrador, so happy and absorbed, made me chuckle not just smile
4) Bunch of big orange lilies for £1.75 (would have bought them for even more but what a bargain eh?)
5) Becky’s ever cheery welcome at the Fountain, bless her too!
Nurse been...all patched up for another week. Chill time...woohoo!
Unless something my physical and mental state improves I can tell today is going to be one of those days when finding five things to be grateful for will be a challenge. So will make a start right now...pause while typing to enjoy the birds singing...um, so here we go...
1) Birdsong outside my window
2) sent FB message to the aforementioned Chris to say he had been mentioned in despatches and he sent one back saying ‘Bless You’. Heaven’s above, blessed in the morning and a hug to come in the afternoon (from the lovely Rachel) ...feel almost cherished!
Later... acupuncture, hug, a little light retail therapy and ready to chill, maybe nap but still waiting for nurse who didn’t make it this am so can’t relax. Must try not to be grumpy with her. Back to list...come on...what to be thankful for?
3) Little boy in blue on the beach with ball and black Labrador, so happy and absorbed, made me chuckle not just smile
4) Bunch of big orange lilies for £1.75 (would have bought them for even more but what a bargain eh?)
5) Becky’s ever cheery welcome at the Fountain, bless her too!
Nurse been...all patched up for another week. Chill time...woohoo!
No woman is an island...
It's a beautiful morning, warm and clear. I'd like best to be in a little sandy cove alone or with someone so close it feels like being alone only better.
When I was small we lived on a small island, newcomers in the community. My older siblings had grown and gone, my parents busy with the farm. I spent some time with my largely bed ridden granny, some with our pets, and some alone with friends that I invented. I guess I got the knack in the way that others do of being part of a family or crowd. Like a duckling imprints with the first thing it sees I imprinted with solitude and space. The duckling doesn't stay following the duck in front for ever though...and sometimes I'd love a feeling of connection and a hug!
Someone once said of me in a derogatory tone 'You could live on an island couldn't you?'. She was much given to derogatory tones, but yes I could, and I'm not ashamed. I read Taransay was for sale and that would suit me just fine!
Well, not only can I not go to a deserted sandy cove but neither can I stay in bed as Tuesday is when I have to wait for a nurse to come and carry out essential maintenance. She or he may be glad they do not have to row across the sound...
When I was small we lived on a small island, newcomers in the community. My older siblings had grown and gone, my parents busy with the farm. I spent some time with my largely bed ridden granny, some with our pets, and some alone with friends that I invented. I guess I got the knack in the way that others do of being part of a family or crowd. Like a duckling imprints with the first thing it sees I imprinted with solitude and space. The duckling doesn't stay following the duck in front for ever though...and sometimes I'd love a feeling of connection and a hug!
Someone once said of me in a derogatory tone 'You could live on an island couldn't you?'. She was much given to derogatory tones, but yes I could, and I'm not ashamed. I read Taransay was for sale and that would suit me just fine!
Well, not only can I not go to a deserted sandy cove but neither can I stay in bed as Tuesday is when I have to wait for a nurse to come and carry out essential maintenance. She or he may be glad they do not have to row across the sound...
Monday, 13 June 2011
Monday, Monday...so good to me...
How good to me? Well about so good...visualise for yourself how far apart my fingers are.
Felt rough and fell asleep on the sofa. Would have liked someone to make me a cup of tea. Empirical evidence suggets Catholics are more likely to make me tea which demonstrates how inaccurate conclusions can be made when working with very little data.
This picture seem familiar? It's my profile pic on here. I call it 'every puddle has a rainbow lining'.
How about this one? It's what happens when hubcaps roll down the road very carefully...
It's quite big and it's quite clever...
And I feel quite clever having learnt how to put pictures on my blog like this ha ha!
Neighbours next door are trying out the volume control on their stereo. My head hurts! Need to get off here before I forget the positive things... which are...
1) see above (or below) to be more accurate...just checking you’ve been paying attention
2) clean flat
3) the Button/Murray thing
4) That the new noisy neighbours aren’t on the same side as my bedroom so presumably I can escape later
5) The book I’ve just been reading about Dewey Readmore Books (a very special cat)
Felt rough and fell asleep on the sofa. Would have liked someone to make me a cup of tea. Empirical evidence suggets Catholics are more likely to make me tea which demonstrates how inaccurate conclusions can be made when working with very little data.
How about this one? It's what happens when hubcaps roll down the road very carefully...
It's quite big and it's quite clever...
And I feel quite clever having learnt how to put pictures on my blog like this ha ha!
Neighbours next door are trying out the volume control on their stereo. My head hurts! Need to get off here before I forget the positive things... which are...
1) see above (or below) to be more accurate...just checking you’ve been paying attention
2) clean flat
3) the Button/Murray thing
4) That the new noisy neighbours aren’t on the same side as my bedroom so presumably I can escape later
5) The book I’ve just been reading about Dewey Readmore Books (a very special cat)
Monday, Monday
My flat is clean. Woohoo, thank you Maria!
Mr Button holds things together and Mr Murray’s mint!
OK here’s a question for you to ponder. If you could have a one word epitaph on your tombstone what would you like it to be? For a while I thought ‘whatever’ would suit me well...it’s something I say rather a lot and it could mean whatever the reader chose. But how about _ _ _ T _ _ E _? That would be quite funky for the crossword fans as well ha ha!
Mr Button holds things together and Mr Murray’s mint!
OK here’s a question for you to ponder. If you could have a one word epitaph on your tombstone what would you like it to be? For a while I thought ‘whatever’ would suit me well...it’s something I say rather a lot and it could mean whatever the reader chose. But how about _ _ _ T _ _ E _? That would be quite funky for the crossword fans as well ha ha!
Monday
Logged into my blog just now and there were six page views before me. People are reading this drivel! That’s number one ‘good thing’ for today’s list anyway
.
Thank you so much for my correspondents on the cancer research site for urging me to do this. Thank you also for Chris Larcombe who suggested it in the first place last year after saying I ‘cracked him up’ with my turns of phrase in counselling. I wasn’t ready to do it then...and was worried about lapsing into self pity and woe is me stuff as can happen in a solitary journal
Anyway, off to get the this and that done so I can watch that long awaited Queen’s final. Yesterday was the perfect day for watching sport snug at home on TV but the weather in London and Montreal meant more of it was actually spent waiting for sport. Still cosier to do this on the sofa rather than the stands though...
.
Thank you so much for my correspondents on the cancer research site for urging me to do this. Thank you also for Chris Larcombe who suggested it in the first place last year after saying I ‘cracked him up’ with my turns of phrase in counselling. I wasn’t ready to do it then...and was worried about lapsing into self pity and woe is me stuff as can happen in a solitary journal
Anyway, off to get the this and that done so I can watch that long awaited Queen’s final. Yesterday was the perfect day for watching sport snug at home on TV but the weather in London and Montreal meant more of it was actually spent waiting for sport. Still cosier to do this on the sofa rather than the stands though...
Sunday, 12 June 2011
What a difference a day makes...
This time yesterday I was such a miserable cow...this evening I’m almost chirpy. What’s all that about...wish I knew then I could bottle it and sell it ha ha!
Wonder what will happen with the neighbours tonight. Last night he came home alone while she stayed out. Her not coming home was part of the reason for the major row the other night, tho to be fair a lot of the time he’s too far gone when he’s here to know if she is or not and the previous boyfriend was left home alone while she went out and found the current one. A woman of looks and charm you’re thinking? Hmm...not for me to say... I think he was having some sort of hallucinations last night. ...singing for hours, quiet quietly, then silent for half an hour or so and then started having an argument by himself shouting for something to eff off and throwing things. I suppose it could have been a spider or something. I mean a real one not one in his head!
Of course it makes me count the blessing of not being in a ‘bad’ relationship but the term is subjective. I’ve been in ones I thought were good until the other person told me otherwise, and vice versa (And I don't just mean lurve type things...apparent friendships too) Some people seem to really like to argue and fightI guess, some seem to moan about their partner for years and you have to wonder if it’s really so bad or if they just like to moan...or even both in which case they should be happy!
There’s an apple, apricot and almond crumble in the oven...mustn’t linger. A lot of this blog’s about food isn’t it? Can't give you the recipe cos I made it up but I'll give you a tip: the main ingredients are...
Wonder what will happen with the neighbours tonight. Last night he came home alone while she stayed out. Her not coming home was part of the reason for the major row the other night, tho to be fair a lot of the time he’s too far gone when he’s here to know if she is or not and the previous boyfriend was left home alone while she went out and found the current one. A woman of looks and charm you’re thinking? Hmm...not for me to say... I think he was having some sort of hallucinations last night. ...singing for hours, quiet quietly, then silent for half an hour or so and then started having an argument by himself shouting for something to eff off and throwing things. I suppose it could have been a spider or something. I mean a real one not one in his head!
Of course it makes me count the blessing of not being in a ‘bad’ relationship but the term is subjective. I’ve been in ones I thought were good until the other person told me otherwise, and vice versa (And I don't just mean lurve type things...apparent friendships too) Some people seem to really like to argue and fightI guess, some seem to moan about their partner for years and you have to wonder if it’s really so bad or if they just like to moan...or even both in which case they should be happy!
There’s an apple, apricot and almond crumble in the oven...mustn’t linger. A lot of this blog’s about food isn’t it? Can't give you the recipe cos I made it up but I'll give you a tip: the main ingredients are...
wet wet wet
Some old friends said they might come and visit this weekend but they wouldn’t know ‘til the last minute. Do you think it’s the last minute yet? Do you think they’ll let me know?
Today’s happy happenstances
1) The golden iridescent slick of oil and spices on the curry I made this morning before it came to the boil...beautiful
2) The weather! Seriously what could be better than wind and rain for staying snug inside?
3) Downside of weather was its effect on fave TV sports...tennis and Formula One...but not slumped on sofa watching does mean I’ve got more done
4) That I live close enough to the sea to hear the thundering waves
5) Put a couple of pictures back on the wallpapered kitchen walls...looking quite homely!
Today’s happy happenstances
1) The golden iridescent slick of oil and spices on the curry I made this morning before it came to the boil...beautiful
2) The weather! Seriously what could be better than wind and rain for staying snug inside?
3) Downside of weather was its effect on fave TV sports...tennis and Formula One...but not slumped on sofa watching does mean I’ve got more done
4) That I live close enough to the sea to hear the thundering waves
5) Put a couple of pictures back on the wallpapered kitchen walls...looking quite homely!
Saturday, 11 June 2011
Good things!
The reason I try to record each day some things that have made me feel good is that consciously counting blessings and feeling gratitude has been proven to have profoundly beneficial effects on mental and physical health. My reasons might seem daft to you, or they might make you feel good in turn...doesn’t matter unless they make you go ‘Yuk!’ as that’s not so good for you
1) Bracken growing by the railway line yesterday. I know it was yesterday but it’s still in my head...it looked so lush and beautiful
2) Delicious stir-fry I made today. So good I kept going ‘Mmm...’while eating it
3) a bit of interaction with the outside world via texts, email and Facebook... thanks especially to Kate for replying straight away!
4) Dan’s posting of the video of Mad World
5) Two good semi final matches at Queen's!
Make your own list...pass it on!
1) Bracken growing by the railway line yesterday. I know it was yesterday but it’s still in my head...it looked so lush and beautiful
2) Delicious stir-fry I made today. So good I kept going ‘Mmm...’while eating it
3) a bit of interaction with the outside world via texts, email and Facebook... thanks especially to Kate for replying straight away!
4) Dan’s posting of the video of Mad World
5) Two good semi final matches at Queen's!
Make your own list...pass it on!
Saturday sofa so-so
When my neighbours finished having sex they went back to rowing again...it rumbled on til after 3 am. Sometimes (forgive me) I wish they would do each other some serious damage so the emergency services could be called and peace would reign for a while, or I chuckle because they are rather inarticulate and short on vocab so they can sound like a rather cruel comedy sketch as they shout the same things back and forth or there’s a pause while one of them stutters and struggles to think of a new insulting word to use.
I usually go to bed on a Friday night with the TV paper looking for something to look forward to over the next couple of days. Weekends can be the pits when you’re on your own. I mean really on your own not just single. In ‘Notes on a Scandal’ the Judy Dench character describes the interminable nature of unwelcome solitude very well but I hope I handle it better than that, don’t stalk or obsess. I mostly ‘speak’ when spoken to and try as much as possible to be understanding and undemanding. There’s a reason why I’m here and if it’s not to be ‘near’ then so be it. When I was well I used to work at weekends, or take long walks or long hot baths but now I can’t do those things I struggle sometimes to fill this precious time meaningfully, purposefully, pleasurably for otherwise what’s the point of having it?
Never mind...there’s tennis on TV now and a bowl of delicious stir fry in front of me. Thank you Mr Tesco for bringing me food to cook it!
I usually go to bed on a Friday night with the TV paper looking for something to look forward to over the next couple of days. Weekends can be the pits when you’re on your own. I mean really on your own not just single. In ‘Notes on a Scandal’ the Judy Dench character describes the interminable nature of unwelcome solitude very well but I hope I handle it better than that, don’t stalk or obsess. I mostly ‘speak’ when spoken to and try as much as possible to be understanding and undemanding. There’s a reason why I’m here and if it’s not to be ‘near’ then so be it. When I was well I used to work at weekends, or take long walks or long hot baths but now I can’t do those things I struggle sometimes to fill this precious time meaningfully, purposefully, pleasurably for otherwise what’s the point of having it?
Never mind...there’s tennis on TV now and a bowl of delicious stir fry in front of me. Thank you Mr Tesco for bringing me food to cook it!
Why dogs don't live as long...
Some of you will have heard this before. I was sent the story years ago (before I realised I was a dog ha ha!) but lost it and just searched for it on the net as I really wanted to hear it again. I don't care if it's true or not...it still makes me feel better!
Being a veterinarian, I had been called to examine a ten-year-old Irish Wolfhound named Belker. The dog's owners, Ron, his wife, Lisa, and their little boy, Shane were all very attached to Belker and they were hoping for a miracle. I examined Belker and found he was dying of cancer. I told the family there were no miracles left for Belker, and offered to perform the euthanasia procedure for the old dog in their home.
As we made arrangements, Ron and Lisa told me they thought it would be good for the four-year-old Shane to observe the procedure. They felt Shane could learn something from the experience.
The next day, I felt the familiar catch in my throat as Belker's family surrounded him. Shane seemed so calm, petting the old dog for the last time, that I wondered if he understood what was going on. Within a few minutes, Belker slipped peacefully away. The little boy seemed to accept Belker's transition without any difficulty or confusion.
We sat together for a while after Belker's death, wondering aloud about the sad fact that animal lives are shorter than human lives. Shane, who had been listening quietly, piped up, "I know why."
Startled, we all turned to him.
What came out of his mouth next stunned me. I'd never heard a more comforting explanation. He said, "Everybody is born so that they can learn how to live a good life -- like loving everybody and being nice, right?" The four-year-old continued, "Well, animals already know how to do that, so they don't have to stay as long."
Being a veterinarian, I had been called to examine a ten-year-old Irish Wolfhound named Belker. The dog's owners, Ron, his wife, Lisa, and their little boy, Shane were all very attached to Belker and they were hoping for a miracle. I examined Belker and found he was dying of cancer. I told the family there were no miracles left for Belker, and offered to perform the euthanasia procedure for the old dog in their home.
As we made arrangements, Ron and Lisa told me they thought it would be good for the four-year-old Shane to observe the procedure. They felt Shane could learn something from the experience.
The next day, I felt the familiar catch in my throat as Belker's family surrounded him. Shane seemed so calm, petting the old dog for the last time, that I wondered if he understood what was going on. Within a few minutes, Belker slipped peacefully away. The little boy seemed to accept Belker's transition without any difficulty or confusion.
We sat together for a while after Belker's death, wondering aloud about the sad fact that animal lives are shorter than human lives. Shane, who had been listening quietly, piped up, "I know why."
Startled, we all turned to him.
What came out of his mouth next stunned me. I'd never heard a more comforting explanation. He said, "Everybody is born so that they can learn how to live a good life -- like loving everybody and being nice, right?" The four-year-old continued, "Well, animals already know how to do that, so they don't have to stay as long."
Sleep now? Please?
After six hours or so my neighbours in the flat upstairs have finally finished hurling expletives and furniture at each other and gone to bed, just waiting for the noisy sex to finish and I'll follow...
Friday, 10 June 2011
That Friday feeling
I went on a journey by train today until recently I usually only took to meet someone I loved. The feeling wasn't mutual but I liked to think it might be one day because hey, how could anyone know me and not love me back by and by? Felt strange being on his patch...every man in the distance looked like him and I found it hard not to cry. I only went to collect something I'd bought on ebay...wouldn't have put myself through it otherwise. Oh well... good to know I can still live and learn! Found five things in the day to smile about as well...
1) Purchased item (a floor standing embroidery frame) was just the job...set up and ready to use
2) New episode of Coast was very droll...Rick Wakeman v Dr Feelgood etc. On Coast? I kid you not...
3) A pretty postcard from a new friend's daughter whose dissertation I read through and suggested a few tiny improvements in
4) A good chat and laugh with the friend herself
5) An email from my lovely son! Woohoo!!!
1) Purchased item (a floor standing embroidery frame) was just the job...set up and ready to use
2) New episode of Coast was very droll...Rick Wakeman v Dr Feelgood etc. On Coast? I kid you not...
3) A pretty postcard from a new friend's daughter whose dissertation I read through and suggested a few tiny improvements in
4) A good chat and laugh with the friend herself
5) An email from my lovely son! Woohoo!!!
absent friends
I miss the ones I thought I had, am grateful for the ones I seem to have found. A little wary...
Last night I thought my hair now looked almost normal enough to wear au naturel, this morning I see clearly some covering is required. No longer look like a militant lesbian, a Buddhist nun, or someone who's having chemo....just someone with a hairstyle fail!
For those who don't know it wasn't chemo that made me lose my hair...well not all of it anyway. I wasn't on particularly lock threatening drugs and didn't take them for long anyway. It started out long and curly and it got thinner and shorter somehow but after six months or so it was getting back to normal. Then my new oncologist explained clearly what no one else had before...that the chemo they had forced me to have with all its accompanying cockups and trauma (including strokes that no one recognised even tho I couldn't talk or walk properly and lost the use of one hand) had merely been palliative anyway and they'd always known they could not cure my cancer.
A couple of days later I looked in the mirror and thought what's that in my hair. And then I realised it was a bit of scalp where no hair was...and it grew and grew and grew. I didn't make the connection for a few weeks...I was too traumatised and trying to look normal at work with an expanding bald patch on the top of my head but then I began to wonder...
I lost it all, save eyebroes and lashes but after a year or so it began to creep back un evenly like flocked wallpaper in a random design and a different texture and colour thasn before. Hair, but not as I knew it ha ha!
Last night I thought my hair now looked almost normal enough to wear au naturel, this morning I see clearly some covering is required. No longer look like a militant lesbian, a Buddhist nun, or someone who's having chemo....just someone with a hairstyle fail!
For those who don't know it wasn't chemo that made me lose my hair...well not all of it anyway. I wasn't on particularly lock threatening drugs and didn't take them for long anyway. It started out long and curly and it got thinner and shorter somehow but after six months or so it was getting back to normal. Then my new oncologist explained clearly what no one else had before...that the chemo they had forced me to have with all its accompanying cockups and trauma (including strokes that no one recognised even tho I couldn't talk or walk properly and lost the use of one hand) had merely been palliative anyway and they'd always known they could not cure my cancer.
A couple of days later I looked in the mirror and thought what's that in my hair. And then I realised it was a bit of scalp where no hair was...and it grew and grew and grew. I didn't make the connection for a few weeks...I was too traumatised and trying to look normal at work with an expanding bald patch on the top of my head but then I began to wonder...
I lost it all, save eyebroes and lashes but after a year or so it began to creep back un evenly like flocked wallpaper in a random design and a different texture and colour thasn before. Hair, but not as I knew it ha ha!
Thursday, 9 June 2011
Yawn!
Things that made me smile today...
1) Elderly and very conventional looking man sitting at the cafe outside the station with his friend...playing the harmonica!
2) Asking for two second class stamps at the main post office in town and the girl at the counter saying she only had one...they were waiting for a delivery (honestly!)
3) The optician saying it had been ‘refreshing’ talking to me after testing my eyes
4) The Nadal/Stepanek match at Queens...3 sets of good tennis and entertainment
5) I finished a poem...more on that tomorrow
1) Elderly and very conventional looking man sitting at the cafe outside the station with his friend...playing the harmonica!
2) Asking for two second class stamps at the main post office in town and the girl at the counter saying she only had one...they were waiting for a delivery (honestly!)
3) The optician saying it had been ‘refreshing’ talking to me after testing my eyes
4) The Nadal/Stepanek match at Queens...3 sets of good tennis and entertainment
5) I finished a poem...more on that tomorrow
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