Sunshine on your shoulder

Guess what?

2006-06-09T17:32:00.000Z

Well, it was bound to happen..

So here we go.

My new home.

Amazingly simple. Even I could do it.

I AM impressed!

Hi

2006-06-09T06:15:00.000Z

This is just a litle note to let you all know that Wales has not been fried and reduced to a sweltering heap due to the amazingly beautiful sunny days we are experiencing at the moment!!! (It is actually in the low eighties (28C) going up to 86 (30C) at times. Whoop whoop...

I am just emerging back into the world after another dreaded Migraine hit. This is day three so some function is possible... this one hit me out of the blue... grr..

Anyway, I am working on a little challenge set by Steve at LoudBuzz which I will post at the weekend..

Hope the Sun is shining wherever you are, and even if it is not, remember that this little bit of sunshine is thinking of you..

Good advice?

2006-06-01T06:55:00.000Z

Ralph Waldo Emerson

Finish every day and be done with it.
You have done what you could.
Some blunders and absurdities
no doubt have crept in;
forget them as soon as you can.

Tomorrow is a new day;
begin it well and serenely
and with too high a spirit
to be cumbered with
your old nonsense.

This day is all that is
good and fair.
It is too dear,
with its hopes and invitations,
to waste a moment on yesterdays.

Now all I have to do is try to put this into practice in my own life rather than running and re-writing things over and over in my mind...and usually this happens between the hours of three and four am...

Easier said than done methinks!!!

Trying to find the sunshine...

2006-05-26T03:34:00.000Z

Eventually, after a very long story of let down by tradesmen, our roof is being sorted.. expensive but necessary...

The ridge tiles have been replaced - after 110 years of wear and tear, they have almost crumbled away.. we knew that this was something that needed to be done when we bought the property 5 years ago.

The worse thing is though, that since Christmas, we have had a leak. It started out as a small problem and it has now become a big problem. The first thing the roofing contractor did was to patch up the area where we thought the leak was coming from. They then had to wait for some dry weather to the big job. But the leak continued and all last week, while we waited for them to come back, and the rain continued to bless our fair land with it's wetness, the drip kept dripping. The roofman said that the water was probably coming in from under the loose and broken ridge tiles..

I was absolutely delighted when I came home from work yesterday to find that the job was almost complete...

I was not absolutely delighted when, at 4.00am this morning (it is now 4.30am) I awoke to the sound of heavy rain and the discovery that there was still rain coming trough the roof and into our bedroom. Infact, as I type this, I am close to tears and am feeling really disappointed..

But, we hold the trump card, and we certainly won't be parting with a penny until they manage to fix the problem..

Meanwhile, I am sure that things will look different in the morning and I am going to resort to the usual course of action at times of stress... I am going to make a cup of tea and go back to bed...

Night Owl, Morning Serenade..

2006-05-24T03:13:00.000Z

Last night I did not get much sleep. If you have read Ed blog you will know why.

You would have thought that tonight I would have slept like a log and be fast asleep in the land of dreams at this time of night (morning) - it is around 4.00am!!

But no, here I am..blogging away until that cloud of sleepiness hits me and I will then crawl back to bed in a fug and fall asleep - probably an hour before the alarm goes off and then I will need to get back up again..

No Migraine keeping me awake. - for which I am truly thankful.

No rain to blame..though we have had some very sharp showers..

No wind threatening to blow away the slates, clinging precariously to our roof as we wait for it to be repaired...

Just woke up coughing and could not get back to sleep again. The medication in the inhaler makes me shakey and is obviously some sort of stimulant and I do try not to take the dratted thing but sometimes I have to.. so, I just have to take it as it comes really.

There is a bird that has just started its morning salute to the day.. I think it is so wonderful.. I wish I could be more like that blackbird out there. Wake up and be so full of joy and song that I could just take a deep breath and sing out my bursting heart, waking the world with song.. wouldn't that be wonderful?

Perhaps I should try that sometime. Not sure what the neighbours would say though!!!

Word Cloud

2006-05-23T18:21:00.000Z

Cat's coming

2006-05-22T10:07:00.000Z

If you are reading this in the States, watch out for one of our British presenters who is just about to host a Dancing Programme in the U.S called So You Think You Can Dance.

Hopefully you will soon all have heard of Cat Deeley.. she is lovely..

I hope she takes America by storm....

Tonight

2006-05-19T18:05:00.000Z

So, tonight we are child free. Daughter is in France, Son is out partying, celebrating the end of his School year and we have the time to ourselves.

So, guess what we are going to do..

Yes, you have guessed it....

Eat pizza, snuggle up together on the sofa....and watch a Rugby match....

What ever else did you think I would say......

Here we are Steve - I did it!!

2006-05-16T18:24:00.000Z

I AM: A complex person, hiding behind the facade of simplicity. I am different things to different people. I am wife, mother, lover, friend, daughter, sister, cousin, niece. I am many things. I am the person that I was, the person that I am, the person that I was and the person that I am trying to be. I am, a woman.
I WANT: Everything and nothing. I want my children to flourish. I want to see them blossom and bloom into the strong, healthy, well balanced and happy people that they show every promise of developing into. I want to make a difference. I want to be able to do something, for someone, that makes a difference to that person.
I WISH: That I had had the confidence that I have now in my forties, when I was in my teens and twenties. I wish I could be nice all the time and not have to be the horrid, nagging mother! Sometimes parental love has to be tough - I wish it didn't have to be.
I HATE: Being away from Ed. Sometimes it is good to have some time apart, and for the last few years, I have taken the children away for a week in the Summer whilst Ed has stayed at home and, at the beginning, I am usually looking forward to it. One night is enough. Two is ok. Three is bearable - after that, it starts getting hard and by the end of the week, the missing becomes almost as acute as an actual physical pain of separation. Bad language. Bad manners.
I MISS: The network of friends I had in our old Town. We lived there for sixteen years. Our children were born there and, as our families were far away, my friends became my family. I miss the chats, the dropping in for tea or coffee, the support, the help, the shoulders to cry on. I miss ringing up L and telling her what was up and hearing those words "the kettle is on - see you in a few minutes". When we lived there, I had my friends but missed my family. Now we live here, I have my family but miss my friends. You see what I mean when I said earlier, I want everything, and nothing!
I FEAR: Being in a crowd of people. I need the support of a hand to hold, a guiding touch, the protective arm. I dislike the feeling of panic that starts in my throat and the rush of blood that makes me want to rush away and flee. I fear the water. My nightmares involve water. I am fascinated by the sea but I fear it too!
I HEAR: Silent words. I hear more than what is said. I hear birdsong. I hear insects buzzing. I hear silence sometimes. I hear laughter. I hear my heart beating. I hear music. I hear his thoughts.
I WONDER: What our lives would have been like if we had never had children. Not because I wish we were in that position. Its just because having them has directly, and indirectly, caused so many changes to our lives and our relationship, that I sometimes wonder how things would have turned out if we had not been blessed in this way.
I REGRET: Not taking more notice of the French lessons I had to endure in school. I regret very little of my life. I do not allow myself to regret - far too negative and destructive an emotion. There are a few decisions that I would make differently if I had my time over - but regret? No..
I'M NOT: Thin.
I DANCE: Far less now than I used to.
I SING: All the time. If I am not singing out loud, then I am singing silently in my hear, or in my soul, or in my mind - which ever bit of ones being sings silent songs. I don't think I sing in my sleep though.
I CRY: Far more now than I used to. Things touch me now that would never have affected me before. Silly little things, and not so silly things. News stories affect me. If a child has been hurt or killed then I put myself in the shoes of those parents - daft, sentimental films that you just know how they are going to end, sad films, happy films, earthquakes, tsunami, disasters, Live Aid, Comic Relief, those Cancer Research charity appeals that they are forever showing on commercial TV. And also the way my husband looks at me sometimes, the way he touches me, both on a physical and emotional level. When either of our children make me proud, mad, upset, even happy. Yes, I cry,and I am not ashamed to do so!.
I AM NOT ALWAYS: The person that I want to be. Sometimes I am crabby and tired, and snap at the family. Sometimes I over react, especially at certain times of the month. Then I feel that I am letting myself down Sometimes I can feel myself getting more and more uptight and snotty and I hear myself saying things that I really do not mean to say - but it still comes out, and then I get upset at myself for doing so. Perhaps it is my hormones. But I am not always "nice" and I wish I was.
I MAKE: A mountain out of a molehill often! I make cakes. I love to bake. I make the beds. I make time for my husband and children. I make too much noise sometimes!
I WRITE: Poems (occasionally).
I CONFUSE: Most people! My left and my right. Myself very often!
I NEED: Lots of physical reassurance. Understanding. Patience. Chocolate at certain times of the month! To sing
I HAVE: Come a long way. On my emotional journey in life, I have travelled the long, windy road, rather than the motorway route - but I think that I have finally arrived - or if not, I am very close. I have so much. I am very blessed and very fortunate. I have a husband and family who love me. All that I need. Faith. Health.
I LOVE: My husband and children and my family. God. Chocolate. Snuggling down in my bed, especially when I have just changed the bed linen and it smells fresh and clean and cool.
I SHOULD: Finish now and go and prepare a meal for the family.

Well, that cameraphone DID come in useful...

2006-05-14T17:19:00.000Z

I had an hour or two to kill the other evening and I found myself walking along what used to be, when I was growing up, a very busy dockland area.

Now it has been re-developed and stylish new appartments have been built there.

I took this with the cameraphone..

So I suppose this is where I should eat humble pie and say thank you Ed, you were right to persuade me to give up my "brick phone" for the all singing, and all dancing, and, in this case, all snapping, super duper, high teck new smartphone you gave me for my birthday...

Don't you just hate it when that happens!!!!

P.S.
Please drop me an e-mail if you are interested in seeing more of my Flickr photos and I will send you one of those invite thingies!!!!

The Object of our Daughter's Desire...

2006-05-10T13:16:00.000Z

For the last year or so, our daughter has been going on and on about wanting a pair of these particular brand of trainers.....

She originally wanted a pink pair. Then, a few weeks ago, it really had to be a red pair.

Well, for her Birthday, this weekend, we went shopping.

She tried on a red pair. They were too big. The shop did not have any in her size, but they had black.

She tried them on anyway.

Thankfully, she then decided that she liked the black more than the red, and with an extra pair of red laces, she left the shop, well and truly smitten...One very happy young lady, one rather poorer mother.

That girl is the Emelda Marcos of South Wales. She just loves shoes...and long may it continue. It is SUCH a TRIAL. I shall just HAVE to keep her company on her shoe buying expeditions. Poor me (wink, wink!)

The new trainers sitting proudly on our dining table! - Photo by ME (she says smugly!)

Dare to be different

2006-05-08T16:48:00.000Z

"Dare to be different; life is so full
Of people who follow the same push-and-pull,
Poor, plodding people who, other than name,
Try to pretend they’re exactly the same.

God made us different; there never will be
A replica soul made of you or me.
The charm-the glory of all creation
rests on this very deviation.

Your charm-your own glory, too,
Lies in being uniquely you -
Lies in being true to your best,
That part of you different from all the rest."

Helen Lowrie Marshall

A High Five for Ed!

2006-05-05T20:32:00.000Z

Poor Ed has had one heck of a day with work related issues....

So I am going to take over his 5 things challenge for him. He was very brave for getting involved - I am not sure that I could have done it....

I know it is cheating and that he is supposed to do five things He likes about himself but 20 things over four days is not bad going is it and even a certain lady, who instigated the whole thing, has had one day off.. so that’s ok then isn’t it? Isn’t it?

So, can I come up with five things I like about Ed that he has not already mentioned?

1. I like the way his hair curls around his collar when it grows. I wish he would not have his hair cut so often but he dislikes the curls himself so he keeps it very short. He always looks smart and well groomed.
2. I like the way he smells. I like the cologne he uses (but yet again I bought it for him). When he comes downstairs in the morning, fresh from his shower, he always smells so good. I also like the way he smells anyway. When we first got together, I used to ask him what after shave he used and he always said that he did not wear any – must have been those pherenomes working their magic. And , even though it sounds a tad gross, I like the way he smells when he wakes in the morning, before he hits the shower!.
3. I like the way he says my name.
4. I like his eyes. They are varying shades of bluey grey. Sometimes they are like reflected rain clouds, and sometimes like the sky itself. They are large and are framed by the most beautiful lashes (actually, our daughter has inherited those sweeping beauties from him - I am dead jealous!). I feel that I need only look into his eyes and I know exactly what he is feeling at that time. They are very expressive.
5. I like the way that he always puts the needs and requirements of other people before himself. His care and concern for his parents is something he may mention in passing but it is such an admirable quality that he is far too modest to boast about. He is so patient and caring that it is humbling. He is amazing.

Well, that is five. I could have gone on and mentioned other things I like such as the way his skin turns so brown in the slightest ray of sun, the admirable work he does for the charity we are Trustees of, the low belly chuckle that makes me want to join in with him (and often do!), his hunky shoulders, and his appreciation of art, poetry and literature but this could get a little long.
So I will end off here.

I hope you like my list. I suppose there is the slight possibility that I am a little bit biased but I am just so blessed that even now, after being married for twenty two years and together for over twenty five years, that there are still so many things about him that I do like.

Thank you for indulging me. OK Ed, you can stop blushing now and come out from hiding behind that computer screen. I have finished!!!!

A cautionary tale

2006-05-01T18:04:00.000Z

I walk into my parent's house.

Mother sitting by the table doing some paperwork.

Conversation went something like this.

"Hello"

"Hello"

Everything OK?

"Hmmm"

"Where's Dad?"

"Don't know - in the shed I think. He can stay there too for all I care!"

Oh dear. Does not take an expert to work out that Dad was in the dog house again and had done something to upset/annoy my mother. My parents have been married for nearly fifty years - well it will be next year - though as each anniversary draws nearer I somethimes wonder if they will actually manage another year together.... I say that in jest. I know that actually, they are very fond of each other and underneath the sulks and snapping, there are some loving feelings. Well, I hope so anyway....

It is just seems that sometimes recently, it is like I am the mother and my mother is the child. My parents have always been like this though. They fall out over what seems to me to be the most petty things. Now my Dad is no saint and he has a temper - lordy yes - he has a temper. And a short fuse. As a child I lived in dread of his reaction. Those flashes of temper that came from nowhere out of the blue and then disapated into thin air! But he seems to have mellowed as he has got older. And my Mother is also no saint - she sulks. Yes, my 71 year old mother sulks worse than a child. In fact, she has got worse as she has aged. So, do you get the picture? Oil and water. Chalk and cheese. A volatile father who will sound off at the drop of a hat - and then it is all over with and forgotton and a mother who would let things drag on for days, expecting an apology that never comes as he never sees that he is in the wrong.

Well, last Friday was the best one yet....

So I continue the conversation by saying.

"Oh dear, what has he done now!"

Well, to cut a long story short, his "crime" was the most heinious, most dispicable, most insulting thing yet....

Her answer was...

"He insisted on holding my hand as we crossed over the road and then, he held the door open for me as we went in the shop!"

Well, I am sorry, but I burst into a stream of the most hysterical laughter and had to walk out of the room.

My dad was in the doghouse - or should I say the shed, for holding my mother's hand as they crossed the main road of our village and then, then, had the cheek to open a door for her.....

I have heard it all now...

For the first time ever, I told my mother what I really thought.

Perhaps this is not the place to share what I actually said..... but honestly!

The scary thing is, sometimes, I think I am getting more and more like my mother as I get older.

Seriously though, call me old fashioned, but I absolutely love it when Ed gives me his jacket if he thinks I am cold, or opens the door for me, of takes my arm as we cross a road, or offers me his hand when we cross a style of climb a gate on one of our walks. I adore the way he will walk on the outside of the kerb, so that his sword arm is at the ready to protect me from maurading bandits (we get a lot of those in Wales wink wink). I love to feel cherished and nurtured and most of all, I love it that he thinks that I am a Lady. And most of all, I love it that he thinks enough of me to want to do these little, precious things for me.

SO Ed. you had better be carefull - the next time you open the car door for me, or place my coat around my shoulders, or even, take my hand as WE cross the road, remember this cautionary tale....and just think of the sulks and cold shoulder you will have to deal with IF YOU EVER FORGET to be a gentleman!!!!!

Writing

2006-04-27T19:10:00.000Z

This is an idea that I have shamelessly borrowed from Southern Sweetheart. Her beautiful script was a post unto itself!

I did not know what to write so I have written one of my shortest poems ever which was written a few years ago. I wish now that I had used lined paper.

Hmm. Does this reveal much about my inner being? I wonder!!

Another one of those quiz thingies!!

2006-04-26T07:48:00.000Z

Sunshine took the free ColorQuiz.com personality test!

"Her need to feel more causative and to have a wide..."

Click here to read the rest of the results.

Now that is spooky!!!!!

A poem for you...

2006-04-23T16:05:00.000Z

i carry your heart with me (i carry it in
my heart)i am never without it(anywhere
i go you go,my dear; and whatever is done
by only me is your doing,my darling)

i fear
no fate(for you are my fate,my sweet)i want
no world(for beautiful you are my world,my true)
and it's you are whatever a moon has always meant
and whatever a sun will always sing is you

here is the deepest secret nobody knows
(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud
and the sky of the sky of a tree called life;which grows
higher than the soul can hope or mind can hide)
and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart
i carry your heart(i carry it in my heart)

ee cummings

Well, they say you learn something new every day and, whilst I am familiar with some of the works of this author, I did not actually know he was American. Ed introduced me to his poems a long time ago.... I was looking for the one cummings wrote about Spring, to put on the blog as the sun was actually shining enough for me to feel reassured that perhaps Spring was actually close at hand - despite the date... and I came across this one which I had not read before. I think it is beautiful.....

So please allow me to share it with you and to indulge me when I say that this is for my lovely husband, who has looked after me so well over the last few weeks, and, whose heart I carry in my own, all the time.

My Favourite Song Lyrics - But I think its this one!

2006-04-22T16:30:00.000Z

I hope you never lose your sense of wonder
You get your fill to eat
But always keep that hunger
May you never take one single breath for granted
God forbid love ever leave you empty handed
I hope you still feel small
When you stand by the ocean
Whenever one door closes, I hope one more opens
Promise me you'll give faith a fighting chance

And when you get the choice to sit it out or dance
I hope you dance
I hope you dance

I hope you never fear those mountains in the distance
Never settle for the path of least resistance
Living might mean taking chances
But they're worth taking
Lovin' might be a mistake
But it's worth making
Don't let some hell bent heart
Leave you bitter
When you come close to selling out
Reconsider
Give the heavens above
More than just a passing glance

And when you get the choice to sit it out or dance
I hope you dance
(Time is a real and constant motion always)
I hope you dance
(Rolling us along)
I hope you dance
(Tell me who)
I hope you dance
(Wants to look back on their youth and wonder)
(Where those years have gone)

I hope you still feel small
When you stand by the ocean
Whenever one door closes, I hope one more opens
Promise me you'll give faith a fighting chance

And when you get the choice to sit it out or dance
Dance
I hope you dance
I hope you dance
(Time is a real and constant motion always)
I hope you dance
(Rolling us along)
I hope you dance
(Tell me who)
(Wants to look back on their youth and wonder)
I hope you dance
(Where those years have gone)

(Tell me who)
I hope you dance
(Wants to look back on their youth and wonder)
(Where those years have gone)

Ronan Keating
I Hope You Dance
Album: 10 Years of Hits

My Favourite Song Lyrics - it could be this one!

2006-04-21T21:46:00.000Z

Hey, That's No Way To Say Goodbye

I loved you in the morning
Our kisses deep and warm
Your hair upon the pillow
Like a sleepy golden storm
Many loved before us
I know that we are not new
In city and in forest
They smiled like me and you
But now it's come to distances
And both of us must try
Your eyes are soft with sorrow
Hey, that's no way to say goodbye

I'm not looking for another
As I wander in my time
Walk me to the corner
Our steps will always rhyme
You know my love goes with you
As your love stays with me
It's just the way it changes
Like the shoreline and the sea
But let's not talk of love or chains
And things we can't untie
Your eyes are soft with sorrow
Hey, that's no way to say goodbye

I loved you in the morning
Our kisses deep and warm
Your hair upon the pillow
Like a sleepy golden storm
Yes many loved before us
I know that we are not new
In city and in forest
They smiled like me and you
But let's not talk of love or chains
And things we can't untie
Your eyes are soft with sorrow
Hey, that's no way to say goodbye

Copyright © Leonard Cohen

My Favourite Song Lyrics - or it could be this one!

2006-04-21T21:13:00.000Z

Search For The Hero

by M People

album: Bizarre Fruit (1995),
The Best of M-People (2001)

Sometimes the river flows but nothing breathes
A train arrives but never leaves
It's a shame
Oh, life like love that's walked out of the door
Of being rich or being poor
Such a shame

But it's then, then that faith arrives
To make your feelings alive
And that's why (why) you should keep on aiming high
Just seek yourself and you will shine

Chorus:
You've got to search for the hero inside yourself
Search for the secrets you hide
Search for the hero inside yourself
Until you find the key to your life

In this life, long and hard though it may seem
Live it as you'd live a dream
Aim so high
Just keep the flame of truth burning bright
The missing treasure you must find
Mm, mm, mm

Because you and only you alone
Can build a bridge across the stream
Weave your spell in life's rich tapestry
Your passport to a feeling supreme

Chorus

You've got to search inside yourself
Deep, deep down inside yourself, yeah
You've got to search inside yourself

Chorus

Search for the hero inside yourself (oh, yeah, yeah, yeah)
Search for the secrets you hide (all of the secrets you hide)
Search for the hero inside yourself (you'll find the hero)
Until you find the key to your life

You've got to search inside yourself
You've got to search

I am going to have to change the name of this blog

2006-04-21T16:35:00.000Z

I don't know about Sunshine on your Shoulder....

The way I am feeling it is more like a dark, foggy cloud hovering around my neck!!!

Head stuffed full of cotton wool..cough, splutter, sniff, groan!!!!

But it is very quiet around here as I just have a little tiny squeak of a voice... though I think that the voice went at the same time as I saw that little beastie on the worktop - read Ed if you don't know what I am talking about!!!

I see that Ed has posted his favourite song lyrics. I will have to think about that one...

Thanks for all your best wishes..

Happy Weekend to you all.

Bye.. cough, splutter, sneeze....... aaacchhhoooooooooooooooooooooooooo

A poem re-visited, prompted by a memory

2006-04-17T06:33:00.000Z

You might prefer to read the previous post first..not that any of this will make any sense!

Part One: The Secret

Look into the depth below.
See the colours in the light,
A yellow ray,
A golden beam,
Bouncing on the surface of the mirroring blue,

A bounding wave,
A silver gleam,
Tinted with a multi-coloured hue.

Look at the field of green and gold.
A sea of undulating motion.
The warm, living breath
Sends briny ripples over the bright buttercup bed,
Of soft, reflective yellow water.
See the scattered, darting, opium-drowsed fish
Swimming silently in this splendid yellow ocean.

Feel the cool green wetness
Washing over our feet,
When we wade through the water,
Then, sit down laughing
In our ocean of grasses
Murmuring their secrets of time as it passes.

The white cliffs listen
And they tell the seagulls
As they circle and nest
On the craggy hard face.

The gulls, in turn,
Tell the life of the seashore
The secret they know of
Our special place.

The white horses listen
As they gallop along madly,
Their frothy manes flying like flags in the breeze
We listen,
Together
But we fail to decipher,
The mysterious whispers of the grass and the trees.

Why did the grass whisper?
And why was it a secret?
Why can’t we know that the rustling leaves said?
Why were the seagulls
Laughing above us?
What were they telling us, high overhead?

Perhaps we should ask them
Of what they were laughing,
Perhaps we should go back
And just ask them, why?
Perhaps they will tell us
just what we have done wrong?
Perhaps, don’t you think,
it is worth just a try?

But wait.
If we went back to
Our green and gold haven,
And we sat down together
In our reflective gold sea,
We may again hear the whispers
And low gentle murmurs,
As the grass tells the seagulls
Just what they have seen.

They are telling of sorrow
Of round salty teardrops,
And unhappy faces in the gold and the green.

They are saying, my vision,
This green and gold ocean,
Must vanish so quickly
Like the mist on the sea.

For the green grass has whispered
Again to the seagull
But this time,
The seagull,
Has the secret,
told me.

A memory re-awakened

2006-04-15T08:24:00.000Z

Looking back, I see a girl.
She sits, in a field, surrounded by long grass and buttercups.
The wind is whispering secret messages that ripple and sway in the wind, the breeze edging up the cliff tops from the sea, spreading its word like wildfire around the field.

On her lap lies a posy that she had picked earlier and she is weaving a chain, a yellow gold chain of buttercups, that soon becomes a length of gleaming, glinting beauty. She casually loops the last stem over the first flower and holds the circlet in her hand. She twirls and rotates the ring of flowers, pulling it between her fingers. She sits and wonders.

Looking back, I see a boy.
He sits, in a field, surrounded by long grass and buttercups.
He does not hear the whisper and chatter of grasses and flowers, swaying in the breeze. He is listening to the seagulls as they circle and swoop over-head, their harsh cry interrupting the moment, just for a second, then the wind carries their call off, far away.

He lies back slightly, his weight supported on one arm. It brings him slightly closer toward her. His head is close to her arm. The sun radiates behind him, causing his curly hair to look like a bright halo around his head. He watches as she fiddles with the flowers, silent and slightly shy. He sits and wonders.

She leans forward, and gently slides the flower garland over his radiant head and hangs it aroung his neck, a fitting chain of office for her golden prince. He smiles.

Her hands now tense and empty, begin again, the loop and link motion of flower chain making, and quickly, there is another golden circle in her hands. Again she rotates the loop between her fingers, uncertain of what to do with it.

He leans forward, his fingers gently brushing hers as he takes the chain from her hands into his. He sits up and gently places it upon her head. His finger, casually looping back a strand of her hair behind her ear, then rearranges the ring of flowers to form a perfect crown of gold for his princess. She smiles.

He edges a little closer and they sit. Silent. Bodies making contact for the first time as their arms melt into each other as they sat closer together, side by side. Awkwardly, she starts to gather up the remaining flowers from her lap. Wilted and shrivelled already from the sun. He reaches out and picks another. He holds it in his hand, and then, places the yellow bloom under her chin. The golden petals showered her skin with golden light. Reflected burnished light radiating from the flower, bathing her skin in golden glory.

"Do you like butter?" he said.

"Yes" she said.

And as their eyes locked, and their eyes smiled, and their eyes melted, the padlock turned in their hearts and the moment was locked and sealed for ever. And the grasses whispered, and the seagulls called, and a murmer of relief rushed through the field, the news radiating from that spot. The secret was shared...

Looking now, I see, not a girl and a boy, but a man and a woman. Hair smattered with silver rather than gold. But linked together still by bands of gold. A golden moment. And every time we see a buttercup, we remember that moment. The moment we knew. The moment we accepted.

The day I became your "Lady of the Buttercups".

"We gave each other buttercups.

We gave each other, Life".

I have a new man in my life!

2006-04-12T22:24:00.000Z

Yes, it's true..............

Granted, he looks a lot like Ed. In fact, I thought it was him...

Until he started to speak.

Then I realised that I had a new man in my life.....

Very few of you actually know what Ed's real voice sounds like. But he is Ed no longer. If you can imagine a bit of Richard Burton merged with a lot of Lee Marvin, then that may give you some idea of my "new man". I went to bed with a Tenor. Woke up with a Bass Baritone!!!

Now how did that song go?

All together now - "I was born under a wandering star" - blimey, that dates me!!!!

Sorry to give you all a fright...

2006-04-10T20:39:00.000Z

This is just a quick one to say that I am sorry to give you all such a fright....

Thank you all so much for your thoughts, prayers and concerns.. I know you all were a help to Ed and it was such a blessing to read these warm thoughts when I came home.

I am tired and teary.

Battered and weary.

Dark eyed and bleary..

But oh so glad to be at home...

Thank you.

Funeral tomorrow - will be glad when that is over with. Hopefully it will be a time of healing and reconciliation for some members of the family - otherwise there will be hurt and bad feeling to deal with as well as the grief. I am going to bite my tongue and support my parents.. and lean heavily on the arm of my lovely Ed, to whom I am so dearly grateful for his love and caring...

And now, I had better get off to bed- before Dr Ed comes and catches me making this post as I am supposed to be getting some rest.

Thank you all.

I feel very honoured to have you all in my life.... Your care and concern is so kind.

Pinched from Ed

2006-04-03T21:44:00.000Z

Ed did this and it just cracked me up - so I had to have a go myself. Perhaps it will take my mind off a certain group of photographs that have suddenly appeared on Ed's blog!!!!

Put your iPod/Winamp/MP3 on shuffle.Reading one question at a time, press play. Use that song title as the answer.

So I put the MP3 player on my phone on shuffle and this is what came out...

How does the world see you?
Fallin’ Aleecia Keyes…..Says it all really

2. Will I have a happy life?
Drive in Saturday – David Bowie – Take me to the Cinema anytime – that will make me happy…..

3. What do my friends think of me?
The Closest Thing to Crazy – Katie Melua – Say no more

4. Do people secretly lust after me?

Being Green – Van Morrison – only frogs by the look of this……

5. How can I make myself happy?

Take Me out – the Killers – depends on how you interprete this. Take me out as in – going shopping or something – yes that will make me happy – take me out as in gangster terminology – not so happy

6. What should I do with my life?

We will be kings – Kato – Hopefully that means a Queen in my case……

7. Will I ever have [more] children?

Warm Love – Van Morrison – sounds like it means more time doing what it takes – though the getting would be a bit of a challenge as hubby has had a certain little operation!!!

8. What is some good advice for me?

Butterflies and Hurricanes – Muse - hmmm

9. How will I be remembered?

Have I told you Lately – Van Morrison – yes – that figures…..

10. What's my signature dancing song?

Stairway to Heaven – that is a hard one to dance to – starts smoochy and then speeds right up – should have been Dancing in the Moonlight – by Toploader which is also on my playlist

11. What's my current theme song?

Night like this – Kato – yup!!!!

12. What do others think is my current theme song?

Love is the Drug – Roxy Music Ha ha– well, I suppose it is right up there on the top of the list, just above cups of tea!!!

13. What shall they play at my funeral?

God Bless Falling Angels – Have I fallen then?

14. What type of Men do I like?

Sunshine – Handsome Boy Modelling School – this cracked me up……

15. How's my love life?

When a man loves a woman - Percy Sledge - in my case, it should be when a Woman loves a Man - but that seems an eminently suitable track to finish off on!!!

Ain't no Sunshine

2006-03-30T04:17:00.000Z

Sunshine skies have turned into grey.

Sunshine skies have become wild gales.

Sunshine skies are now soaked with rain.

Sunshine Day has become Stormy Night.

and I can't sleep.................

My love for you is like an iceberg

2006-03-22T17:41:00.000Z

My love for you is like an iceberg.

Huge.

Beautiful

Unpredictable.

Sometimes I feel frozen and captured, like a tiny fragment of stone encapsulated in ice and then

You touch me and I melt.

Sometimes you look at me and I melt more.

Once or twice you have caused bits of me to break off and float away.

The thing with icebergs though, is that only one third is visible. The other two thirds are hidden below the surface of the Ocean.

And so it is…

My love for you is like an iceberg.

And though what you can see of it above the surface is spectacular and so vast and huge and beautiful and all so visible for all to see for miles around, there is so much more below the surface that is hidden from view.

For only you to see.

Or perhaps for you not to see?

But you always know that it is there.

and I like it like that..

My love for you is like an iceberg

Huge.

Beautiful

Hidden

And, if my love for you is like an iceberg, then you can only be

The deep green, blue tinged icy sea

That encircles me

And carries me

And melts part of me

And keeps me free

To love you

Like an iceberg.

I gave in!!!

2006-03-20T13:15:00.000Z

Look what hubby gave me for my Birthday?

Does it look familiar?

Now the fun begins.... when I work out how to actually use it that is!!

A Fishy Story

2006-03-16T23:29:00.000Z

I used to read my "stars" all the time when I was younger. I don't really do this anymore but, with my Birthday looming at the weekend, I thought I would share this with you.

I have always thought though, that it is ironic that I am a "fish" when I can hardly swim two strokes without going glug, glug, HELP! and I am scared of the water...

Oh, and another thing. I am two fish swimming along in opposite ways and Ed is a water carrier. Hmmm. Interesting!!!!!!

Pisces
February 19 - March 20

Pisces is the twelfth Sign of the Zodiac, and it is also the final Sign in the Zodiacal cycle. Hence, this Sign brings together many of the characteristics of the eleven Signs that have come before it. Pisceans, however, are happiest keeping many of these qualities under wraps. These folks are selfless, spiritual and very focused on their inner journey. They also place great weight on what they are feeling. Yes, feelings define Pisceans, and it's not uncommon for them to feel their own burdens (and joys) as well as those of others. The intuition of the Pisces-born is highly-evolved. Many people associate Pisceans with dreams and secrets, and it's a fair association, since those born under this Sign feel comfortable in an illusory world.

It's a pair of Fish that represents Pisceans, a symbol which prompts others to suggest that these people 'go with the flow' and 'don't make waves.' Both of these labels are true, since Pisceans are fluid and easy-going, in keeping with the Mutable Quality assigned to this Sign. The fact that two fish (as opposed to one) represent the members of this Sign also speaks to the duality of Pisceans, their yin and yang sensibility. Pisceans alternate between reality and non-reality in keeping with their introspective natures; their voyage between consciousness and an unconscious dream state says much about their intuitive, almost psychic natures. For this reason, Pisceans can be hard to pin down, prompting some to call them the chameleons of the Zodiac. The Fish are happy to be considered hazy, since there's a certain sense of safety in that self-proclaimed netherworld. That said, they won't stay away for long, since one of their primary goals is to help others. Pisceans are compassionate, charitable and will quickly put the needs of others ahead of their own. It's this kind of self-sacrifice which keeps these folks going. The flip side to their giving natures is that oft-timid Fish are likely to be taken advantage of by less well-meaning souls.

(Taken from this web site).

What is love - when you are eight years old

2006-03-13T15:30:00.000Z

A group of professional people posed this question to a group of under eight year olds, "What does love mean?" The answers they got were broader and deeper than anyone could have imagined. See what you think:

"Love is that first feeling you feel before all the bad stuff gets in the way."

"When my grandmother got arthritis, she couldn’t bend over and paint her toenails anymore. So my grandfather does it for her all the time, even when his hands got arthritis too. That’s love."

"When someone loves you, the way they say your name is different. You know that your name is safe in their mouth."

"Love is when a girl puts on perfume and a boy puts on shaving cologne and they go out and smell each other."

"Love is when you go out to eat and give somebody most of your french fries without making them give you any of theirs."

"Love is when someone hurts you. And you get so mad but you don’t yell at them because you know it would hurt their feelings."

"Love is what makes you smile when you’re tired."

"Love is when my mommy makes coffee for my daddy and she takes a sip before giving it to him, to make sure the taste is OK."

"Love is what’s in the room with you at Christmas if you stop opening presents and listen."

"If you want to learn to love better, you should start with a friend who you hate."

"When you tell someone something bad about yourself and you’re scared they won’t love you anymore. But then you get surprised because not only do they still love you, they love you even more."

"There are two kinds of love: Our love and God’s love. But God makes both kinds of them."

"Love is when you tell a guy you like his shirt, then he wears it everyday."

"Love is like a little old woman and a little old man who are still friends even after they know each other so well."

"During my piano recital, I was on a stage and scared. I looked at all the people watching me and saw my daddy waving and smiling. He was the only one doing that. I wasn’t scared anymore."

"My mommy loves me more than anybody. You don’t see anyone else kissing me to sleep at night."

"Love is when mommy gives daddy the best piece of chicken."

"Love is when your puppy licks your face even after you left him alone all day."

"I let my big sister pick on me because my Mom says she only picks on me because she loves me. So I pick on my baby sister because I love her."

"Love cards like Valentine’s cards say stuff on them that we’d like to say ourselves, but we wouldn’t be caught dead saying."

"When you love somebody, your eyelashes go up and down and little stars come out of you"

"You really shouldn’t say ‘I love you’ unless you mean it. But if you mean it, you should say it a lot. People forget."

SOO SWEET!!!!

The Closest Thing to Crazy

2006-03-11T17:19:00.000Z

What is the craziest thing you have ever done in the name of love?

I think mine has to be spending our honeymoon backpacking along the Pembrokeshire Coastal path, in the rain, carrying a 30lb rucksack on my back - and trying to look as if I was enjoying every single minute of it...

I did quite well, I think, until around day four, half way up the nth nearly vertical flight of steps up from some (admittedly) very beautiful bay, in the pouring rain, I went on strike and exclaimed to my very new husband - "WHY COULD'NT WE HAVE HAD A NORMAL HONEYMOON LIKE NORMAL PEOPLE?"!!! I took a lot of persuading to continue..but what choice did I have? I could not go back down, so I HAD to go up. I think he may have started wondering what he had let himself in for with me..

Still, I did keep going until we got to the end and was then rewarded with a lovely week somewhere warm, dry and very cosy where spent a lot of time doing what NORMAL people do on their honeymoon.

But I still think we were crazy! What about you?

You pondered, I wondered!!

2006-03-10T14:22:00.000Z

In a comment a few weeks ago, when I posted one of Shakespeare's sonnets about love, Rosie left this comment.

I have been pondering - What does it mean to lovingly accept another person? What is love and what should we be prepared to accept.

This has been sitting here as a draft for a week or so. I would now say to Rosie, go to read what Ed posted last and hopefully this will answer her "ponder".

But, Ed's post prompted me into posting this response that has been two weeks in the making!

This really got me thinking Rosie!

When we love someone, at the start, we see that person as perfect. There are no faults, no flaws, no evidence of anything other than what we see before us. We are so carried away by the euphoria of emotions and hormones and pheromones and lust possibly, that the subject of our affection stands there on a pedestal, high up above us, adored and revered as we wallow and luxuriate in the joys of new love.

Others may see the faults, the imperfections but we remain impervious. Our friends may well see things differently and may even warn us against the object of our affection, seeing through the veneer or having knowledge of a past history of something but, we are not going to take any notice of them, are we? After all, love IS blind!

But then, as we get to know the person, as we start to spend more time with them and they reveal more of themselves to us, we begin to see through the layers and start to see the "real them". The light becomes brighter and we see things more clearly, though again, it is all too often that we sometimes see things that we don’t like and are unable, or unwilling, to face up to these things, and we all to easily push our doubts aside and bury them deep down somewhere. And do we leave these things buried and ignored? Or do we accept that perhaps this person is not really as we saw them originally? And, if we do this, do we decide that this person is worth keeping in our lives despite his/her faults? Is the fault/flaw something that we can accept as being part of the persons psyche and accept and live with it? Or is that fault/flaw something that is going to become an issue and fester and inflame and perhaps become a problem? Do we accept it and move on with the relationship? Do we accept it and ignore it as trivial? Do we ignore it and hope it will go away? Or do we acknowledge that there is a problem and confront it? Or do we realise that there is just no future in the relationship and end it there and then.

In my own (and I must admit) very limited experience, I know all to well, that feeling of gradual realisation that the object of my love was not, after all perfect. I have to say that there was nothing in our relationship that made me feel that I wanted to run off somewhere and flee, but when you love someone, really love someone, that love is unconditional. You see them warts and all and grow to love the warts! So, to me, this is what I mean by "lovingly accept" a person.

But what should be prepared to accept? Or conversely, what should we not be prepared to accept. That is difficult because we all come from so very different points of reference that it is hard to generalise. But I suppose, if it causes you pain, either physical or emotional, if it becomes a burden, or if it causes you stress or unhappiness, then perhaps this is where the boundaries start to come to play, and the acceptable gradually creeps into the realms of unacceptable.

So, that is the end of my response to your ponder. I had better end now - I have gone on too long as it is.

* * * * * * * * * * * *

Jumping back to Ed's post....

He says - "Being in love is being in tune with each other so completely that you don't have to speak to know what the other is thinking or feeling"

It is reassuring to know that he and I think alike. It is quite weird at times when we say the same thing at the same time. But this non-verbal communication is important to our relationship. And he had not seen this post above either!

He also said
"Being in love is loving your partner's faults, foibles and weaknesses"

So Rosie, in a way that totally encapsulates our relationship, Ed has managed to give you the answer succinctly and coherently, where as I spout our reams of incomprehensible ramblings, going round and round in circles, and ending off back where I was at the start, exhausted and leaving a trail of emotional debris around me!!! But I know, that this is one of those "faults, foibles and weaknesses" that are part of me and that he loves anyway. And that is sooo wonderful. Unconditional love.

I am so very blessed.

Weekly quiz

2006-03-07T18:00:00.000Z

It is incredible really that "they" can tell all this about a person, just by asking three questions.

I think it sums me up quite well!!!!

Your Personality Is

Idealist (NF)

You are a passionate, caring, and unique person.
You are good at expressing yourself and sharing your ideals.

You are the most compassionate of all types and connect with others easily.
Your heart tends to rule you. You can't make decisions without considering feelings.

You seek out other empathetic people to befriend.
Truth and authenticity matters in your friendships.

In love, you give everything you have to relationships. You fall in love easily.

At work, you crave personal expression and meaning in your career.

With others, you communicate well. You can spend all night talking with someone.

As far as your looks go, you've likely taken the time to develop your own personal style.

On weekends, you like to be with others. Charity work is also a favorite pastime of yours.

The Three Question Personality Test

Triple A plus two!!!!

2006-03-05T18:33:00.000Z

Five A’s that are or have been, significant factors in my life.

A is for Alan
Which is my dad’s name.

A is for Apples
I love apples. I eat loads of them. No sooner do I stock up the fruit bowl, then they have disappeared again. Though it is not just me that eats them - hubby and daughter get through their fair share too!! I prefer the green and red varieties such as Gala or Pink Lady but I will eat any and all of them. I love that first crunch, the feel of my teeth as they break the skin and savour the moist delights within. I gnaw down to a typical core, leaving a symmetrical shape and then eat the top and then the bottom. I leave a bit of a core as I was told as a child that I should not eat the pips _ when I had appendicitis, my family told me that it was because I had eaten apple pips - how true that is, I don’t know.

We used to have apple trees in our garden and the farm near by had an orchard and I used to love to climb the old boughs and sit and watch the world go by. I fell off once, right into a patch of stinging nettles..ouch!.. But I still love apples!.

A is for Aromatherapy
The ultimate treat for me is an aromatheraphy massage. The sensual blend of touch and smell is the ultimate in relaxation as far as I am concerned and it amazes me how different oils can have different effects on both physical ailments and mental and emotional well being. I used to be the "body" for a lady who was training in this field and so used to get free or very reduced price massages which was very nice. Unfortunately, having now moved and not knowing anyone round here who offers this service, I have not had one for a long while but it is something I would like to do again at some time in the future.

A is for Asthma
This was something that dominated our lives for the first 10 years of our son’s life. From the age of 11 months when he contracted a very nasty virus, onwards, our lives became one big round of doctors visits, hospital admissions, hospital appointments, drugs, nebulisers and oxygen masks. Sometimes he was very poorly indeed and sometimes it was fairly mild in comparison, but when this is your "baby", even the minor attacks seemed to be major. Over one 12 week period, he was admitted 7 times to the local hospital. The turning point was when my parents paid what seemed then to be a huge amount of money for us to have a nebuliser (to administer the medication in vapour form) at home so that we could administer the medication ourselves, rather than having to admit him each time. This kept him out of hospital most of the time but we did have to admit him if he got really bad or if he needed oxygen.

Thankfully, as he got older and bigger, he was able to take preventative medication and this was a big hurdle overcome, and when we actually moved from where we were living in the West of England to our current home in South Wales, he improved vastly (and, so did daughter and I who both suffered but to a much minor degree). Now, as a big strapping 16 year old, he is virtually asthma free, which is a huge blessing and relief all round.

A is for Art
This has always played a big part in my life. I have always drawn and painted and I studied the History of Art up to degree level. I would love to have the time to paint these days but when the children came, I put away my canvas and paints and they have not seen the sight of daylight since. One day though, I will!.

Who would paint Your portrait

2006-03-02T21:17:00.000Z

I did this fun quiz the other day and it got me thinking - or fantasizing more like!!

Who Should Paint You: Gustav Klimt

Sensual and gorgeous, you would inspire an enchanting portrait..
With just enough classic appeal to be hung in any museum!

What Artist Should Paint Your Portrait?

And funnily enough, I love the work of Gustav Klimt.

I could imagine me reclining on my bed like this!

I have always said though, that I would be more fitted to be a model for Pierre August Renoir, living in the heart of Paris in the early nineteen hundreds..

Just like this...

or even, like this...............

I don't know if I could ever pose nude in real life but well, a girl can dream can't they......................

Portrait of Leda by Klimt - image published from here

Renoir - Young girl with daisies - image published from here

Renoir - Seated Bather - image published from here

St David's Day

2006-03-01T21:38:00.000Z

Hiraeth is one of those words in the Welsh language that does not really have a suitable word to translate it into in English. But it is such an important word to us that I will, on this day, March 1st, our National Day here in Wales, try to explain a little to you of how it feels to be Welsh and how proud I am to belong to this “Land of my Father’s”.

It is a longing, an essence, a deep, in built need. The Dictionary defines hiraeth as grief or sadness for something (or someone) lost or departed; a longing, yearning, nostalgia, wistfulness, homesickness, earnest desire. There is no real equivalent in English: hiraeth conveys the sense of deepest inexpressive grief or longing.

It is an ache, a feeling, a homesickness for a place that you may never, even have been to in your generation but is built into your genes, your genetic programme – it is the ancestral blood in you, calling to you, beckoning to you, ushering you and urging you to come home.

It is a yearning for the past, an uneasy acceptance of the present and an inexplicable desire to be “home” in the future. Wales is always “home” wherever you live.

Hiraeth can be used to describe this longing for a place, or to be with a person or persons, either absent or departed. Hiraeth is a feeling of broken heartedness. It is bitter and sweet. It is cold and hot. It is that feeling of complete and utter despondency melted with the hope and longing for somewhere better – somewhere more familiar – somewhere where you belong – for home..

It is a pride in our heritage and history. It is a feeling of unity, of bonding, of belonging. We Welsh are an ancient nation, and our history and heritage is embedded in our sub-conciousness in such a way that even if we should want to, we cannot ever forget the fact that we are Welsh. We speak about it, write about it and sing about it. It unifies us. It identifies us. We all wear our Welshness proudly like a national flag. Our accents identify us to each other and when we are away from Wales and we meet up, we are automatically brothers and sisters, related by our shared heritage, unified in that identity.

Have ever stood on this earth and been overcome by the majesty and beauty of the scene before you? Have you marvelled at the delicate dew splattered petals of a peachy rose standing erect and firm amongst its prickly armoured stems? Have you ever seen the stars illuminating the black dark velvet skies and traced the shafts of dragon fire comets as they race across the heavens? Have you, at some dark time in your life, looked back to a happier place, a happier moment, a chink of light amongst the shadows and pain? Have you remembered a sight, a sound, a smell, a touch and it has caused you to ache and yearn to see, to hear, to smell, to feel that experience again and again? Have you wanted to be back at a place, a special, beautiful place where you find peace and contentment rather than what you are feeling at that moment? Have you, tucked away in the deepest recesses of your inner being, the desire and urge to visit a certain place, a place where you just know you just have to be?

If you have experienced any of these things, then this is a little of what Hiraeth is..

And today, I would like to wish you all, wherever you are, and whatever nationalility you are, a very happy St David’s Day.

Dydd Gwyl Dewi hapus I chi.

Life is funny like that......

2006-02-25T12:26:00.000Z

Last night I mentioned to Ed that perhaps the new medication I am taking to prevent me from getting migraines is actually working as the last three monthly triggers (ehem - "ladies things" ehem) have been and gone without me suffering.....

Then this morning - I wake up with a migraine....

Life is funny like that.....

Still I have to be grateful that I have been migraine free for two consecutive months... and that is a blessing in itself.

The Bard in the news

2006-02-23T21:51:00.000Z

Well, even though William Shakespeare died on April 23rd 1616 at the age of 54, his death has always been a mystery. He is buried at this church, Holy Trinity Church, Stratford on Avon. (beautiful place isn't it?) Anyway, nearly 500 years later, his death was big news in the Newspaper yesterday as someone has come up with a theory as to his possible cause of death, based on visual "clues" in one of his portraits.

Anyway, whether this theory is indeed correct is a matter for conjecture but, I wanted to share with you one of my favourite sonnets written by the great man himself..even though there is some debate as to the provenance of some of his plays, his poems have non such controversy (if you ignore the fact that some are addressed to a young man, that is).....but that is neither here not there....

Sonnet 116
Let me not to the marriage of true minds
admit impediments. Love is not love
which alters when it alteration finds,
or bends with the remover to remove:
Oh, no! It is an ever-fixed mark.
That looks on tempests and is never shaken;
it is the star to every wandering bark,
whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken.
Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks
within his bending sickle's compass come;
love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,
but bears it out even to the edge of doom.
If this be error and upon me proved,
I never writ, nor no man ever loved.

Williams Shakespeare

I am so thankful that I have had the good fortune to share my life with someone who has enabled me to feel exactly what the poet meant when he wrote those words... Every day is Valentine's Day with Ed.

Enjoy the poem.....

Enjoy the weekend.......

Women's things!

2006-02-20T21:49:00.000Z

I think it was Tammy Wynette who sang the song that starts

"Sometimes it's hard to be a woman"

There are certain times when I fully endorse those words... and today is one of those.

Hmm - Is this me?

2006-02-18T08:06:00.000Z

You Are a Peacemaker Soul

You strive to please others and compromise anyway you can.
War or conflict bothers you, and you would do anything to keep the peace.
You are a good mediator and a true negotiator.
Sometimes you do too much, trying so hard to make people happy.

While you keep the peace, you tend to be secretly judgmental.
You lose respect for people who don't like to both give and take.
On the flip side, you've got a graet sense of humor and wit.
You're always dimplomatic and able to give good advice.

Souls you are most compatible with: Warrior Soul, Hunter Soul and Visionary Soul

What Kind of Soul Are You?

I suppose there are elements of me here - one thing though, that says a lot is, the first thing I noticed on reading this back is the spelling mistakes in the text...

I think that probably speaks the most!!!!!!!!!

Post Box

2006-02-18T00:59:00.000Z

Post Box

Inside your thought filled mind
There is an envelope.

I probe inside your post box
And pick up the letter addressed to you and hold it.

I sit, and look at the writing on the front.
It is in her distinctive hand.

I turn the envelope over.
The seal is firm, its edges closed.

I hold it between my fingers,
Examining
Probing with my mind
But I cannot see inside
And I will not break the seal.

So, still in ignorance
I let the letter slip back into the gaping mouth.

Your secret is safe.
I will not pry.
The envelope will stay closed.

I walk away from the post box.
Your thought filled mind.
Your letter, your secret safe inside,
And I walk away.

But, in my thought-filled mind,
where self becomes unreal,
curiosity causes me to beat my head repeatedly
against a fateful wall of furious frustration.

Just listen for a while....

2006-02-11T13:21:00.000Z

I just get the feeling that there are a lot of people in our little world of blog that are hurting for various reasons......am I right?

I am a great believer in the restorative and healing powers of music and touch...

Whereas I cannot reach out and give you all a physical hug, I am hoping that this song will do this for me and minister to you..(Rosie - I know that you, and possibly some others, will have heard this song before....in another place.. but enjoy anyway..)

Let this song wrap around you and as it does, please accept a big hug from me..

And, if you find yourself in the happy place of peace, calm and content, enjoy the "hug" anyway.....

Inside of You

I like to watch you from above
it's not an ordinary love
I like to feel you
so close to me
I bet I'm nearer than you'll ever see

and I'm sitting up against the wall
trying to find my way
I'll play it safe
in case I fall from yesterday

you're letting me live
inside of you
you're letting me live
as someone new

I wanted to be
forever young
you and me now I'm forever free
I wanted to learn from our memories
you're never cold
though you're not here to hold

and I'm sitting up against the sky
trying to find my way
nothing to do but to wonder why
it's not yesterday

you're letting me live
inside of you (inside of you)
you're letting me live
as someone new (as someone new)

believe in me 'cos I believe it

somewhere there is an angel
watching over your life
sometimes there is a silence
somewhere a face in the light
know this place is where i am
know this face is of me
know I'm watching over you
do you feel it too?

you're letting me live
inside of you
you're letting me live
as someone new

(you're letting me live)
somewhere there is an angel
watching over your life
(inside of you)
sometimes there is a silence
somewhere a face in the light
(you're letting me live)
know this place is where i am
know this face is of me
(as someone new)
know I'm watching over you
(know I'm watching over you)

(you're letting me live)
somewhere there is an angel
watching over your life
(inside of you)
sometimes there is a silence
somewhere a face in the light
(you're letting me live)
know this place is where i am
know this face is of me
(as someone new)
know I'm watching over you
(know I'm watching over you)

Alice Martineau
1972-2003

Condolences

2006-02-07T23:05:00.000Z

Our friend Steve at LoudBuzz has sadly announced the death of his father in law. He was asking for poems suitable to be read as an Eulogy by him at the end of the Funeral. He has been given some good examples by some kind blogging friends.

Steve we are thinking of you. My prayers are with you, your wife, your boys and the rest of your family..

I was reminded of this poem. This was written in the Seventeenth Century by John Donne. It was a favourite of mine in my youth. I thought I would share it with you.

A VALEDICTION: FORBIDDING MOURNING
By John Donne

As virtuous men pass mildly away,
And whisper to their souls to go,
Whilst some of their sad friends do say
The breath goes now, and some say, No:

So let us melt, and make no noise,
No tear-floods, nor sigh-tempests move,
'Twere profanation of our joys
To tell the laity our love.

Moving of th' earth brings harms and fears,
Men reckon what it did and meant,
But trepidation of the spheres,
Though greater far, is innocent.

Dull sublunary lovers' love
(Whose soul is sense) cannot admit
Absence, because it doth remove
Those things which elemented it.

But we by a love so much refined
That our selves know not what it is,
Inter-assurèd of the mind,
Care less, eyes, lips, and hands to miss.

Our two souls therefore, which are one,
Though I must go, endure not yet
A breach, but an expansion,
Like gold to aery thinness beat.

If they be two, they are two so
As stiff twin compasses are two;
Thy soul, the fixed foot, makes no show
To move, but doth, if th' other do.

And though it in the centre sit,
Yet when the other far doth roam,
It leans and hearkens after it,
And grows erect, as that comes home.

Such wilt thou be to me, who must
Like th' other foot, obliquely run;
Thy firmness makes my circle just,
And makes me end where I begun.

1633

You can read this two ways. Either he is talking about the death of a loved one, or the parting of a lover. However you read it, I hope you find it as moving as I do. I do not imagine he ever thought that nearly 400 years later, we would be sharing this across cyberspace.

His Story

2006-02-05T18:08:00.000Z

Sorry that there has been a bit of a break in this story. The creative juices were flowing, but they just needed a little time to get them flowing in a lucid manner. Hopefully this will help make some sense of what was going on before.

If you are new here, or you want a recap, it all began with At Seventeen on 7th January, and ended off at His Song, on 20th January - see music player in sidebar.

We continue now with:

His Story

Unknowingly, he had jumped onto the express train to self destruction the day he met Lily. Why was it that something so simple had turned into something so complicated? At the start it was so exciting. So exhilarating. So flattering that she, Lily, the sensual siren should show some interest in him. He that had remained shrouded in anonymity and ordinariness was suddenly propelled out of the comfort of obscurity and thrust violently into the glare of notoriety as the one who had finally netted Lily. She was the one that they all wanted. The one of whom they all fantasised about. It was he that had taken her home. Now she was his. Or was it that he was hers. The hunter unwittingly became the hunted.

He should have known the way it would go, right from that very first night. He had not realised that she had come to the party with someone else. He did not know that someone else had gone to get her a drink. All he saw was the only empty space in the room that just happened to be next to her. How she ended up in his arms was a mystery to him. Did he make a move? He did not remember. He blamed the booze. But was the vodka really to blame? Who knows. Somehow it happened. In a frantic jumble of lips and hands they ended up together all evening. You would have needed a wedge to pries them apart. Enveloped in a cloud of lust and euphoria they became "an item". And, at the start, it was good. So good. Together they explored and exploded and learned and discovered, virginity soon left far behind. They did not care what people thought. They did not care at all. They were an item. Together. In love. In lust. Inseparable.

But soon, all too soon, the good became not so good, and the trust was chipped, and the lies began, and tolerance was eroded. His forgiveness, which, at the beginning was so freely given, became harder and harder to extend, and the bonds that united them together at the beginning soon became bonds that tied him down and twisted and knotted her to him in a web of deceit and lies. Her silken tongue bound her to him. As much as his head told him one thing, his heart would argue back, and he would, again and again. Her veil of innocence and helplessness obscured the truth and he was drawn further and further into her web. Each time he found a knife and broke free, she would draw him back on that invisible thread that she had knotted round his heart. Once or twice he used the sword of truth to break the bonds and he would escape for a few days. Each time it was going to be the end. The break. This was to be it. Finished. But somehow, and he really did not know how she did it, she would draw him back with gentle words, with looks of innocence and tears of repentance that yet again, would burn like acid as they touched his skin. She had him tied. She had him bound. She had Him.

But then, one day, Lily introduced him to Bronwen. And gradually, as the months slipped away, Lily’s friend Bronwen became his friend too. She would sit, and listen, and he would sit, and talk. And the more they sat, and the more he talked and the more she listened, the more Lily watched and the more Lily waited until the time became right for Lily to start to weave her web around Bronwen too. And for a while, that veil of deception fell in front of the eyes of Bronwen and she too, started to be pulled into the web but, before it had her irrevocably bound in its sticky silken threads, she found the silver scissors of discernment and cut herself free. And then, eventually, one magical, heart-stopping night, she handed him those very same scissors, and he finally cut through the bonds that had tied him so tightly to Lily, and she guided him onto the life raft, that would free him from Lily for ever.

A painful place revisited

2006-02-02T21:58:00.000Z

Ed has posted about our 16 year old and the poem his girlfriend sent him after she broke up with him.

This reminded me of a time, when I was 17, not a lot older than Son is now. I won't tell you what year this was written. That is my secret!!!! (But there is a bit of a hint of the date in the music choice!!!)

I had met the love of my life. The only thing was that I thought that he was still in love with his ex girlfriend. I wrongly thought that I was being measured up against her and being found wanting.

I loved him so but felt that I should end it as I could only see myself getting more and more hurt. If I was to let him go, he could then get back together with his ex, which I thought was what he really wanted.

I did break off with him. I felt it was for the best..but it led to several months or so of heartwrenching and uncertainty, which was all of my doing. But that is another story. Looking back in my diary, I see that I actually wrote eight poems in two very troubled months - I really would not want to go through all that again!

So here I am again - baring my 17 year old soul.....

Silver Shadows, Silver Sadness

My reason, my meaning
Has disappeared.
Silver shadows haunt
Silver groves of pale desire.

Stars
Once so happily twinkling high
In the dark blue velvet heavens
Now shed insipid beams
Of unhappy, dying light
On a drear eternity.

Yet
Two stars glint,
Glisten gold.
The stars I see reflected in the untroubled pool?
The stars in my eyes?
Or
Are they teardrops?

The moon tries to peep her head
From behind the clouds.
"No dear moon, shine not your beams.
I do not need your light.
Don’t reveal to me the world,
This world bathed in silver light".

I do not want to see,
To remember.
To remember the glint of silver light in your hair
When you turned to say my name.
Don’t illuminate my mind.
I don’t want him to see my pain.

Yet now
The tiny drops of rain
Disturb your image in the pool.
But
Is it rain?
Or is it just silver drops of sadness in my mind?

I know that you must go,
Though you have yet to tell me so.
You have tried to stand it for a while,
But yet
It’s hard for you to smile
The subject of such sadness.

I think of you:
Will we share silent moonlight as before?

I wait,
And hope for a day,
When silver
Won’t mean sadness anymore.

WOW

2006-01-27T16:41:00.000Z

I'm a Ferrari 360 Modena!

You've got it all. Power, passion, precision, and style. You're sensuous, exotic, and temperamental. Sure, you're expensive and high-maintenance, but you're worth it.

Take the Which Sports Car Are You? quiz.

I want to say thanks to my HTML expert hubby for showing me how reduce the size of this image - it was really bugging me before - I do have this tiny little perfectionist streak!!!!!

Another meme thingy

2006-01-25T14:29:00.000Z

My fingers are less painful so I thought I would have a go with this........ do have a go yourself if you like!

1. When you look at yourself in the mirror, what's the first thing you look at?

I notice the grey in my hair and think how much I am getting to see my mother’s reflection in the mirror!

2. How much cash do you have on you?

None - I am like the Queen - I don’t carry cash around!!! Actually it is none. I don’t have my handbag with me and I don’t have any pockets so no money at all I am afraid - not that there is that much in my purse - about £1.50..

3. What's a word that rhymes with "TEST":

Zest - something I wish I had more of!

4. Favourite planet?

Well, it has to be Venus really doesn’t it?

5. Who's the 4th person on your missed call list?

Home number

6. What's your main ring tone on your cell phone?

"Hey Sexy Lady" by Shaggy - that is the tune I hear when Ed rings me and it is usually him who calls!!

7. What shirt are you wearing?

Not wearing one - wearing a sweater

8. Do you "label" yourself?

I used to. I used to call myself stupid all the time - but I have stopped that now by using a positive self talk procedure..

9. Name the brand of your shoes you're currently wearing?

Clarke’s

10. Bright or Dark Room?

Bright usually - definitely dark when I have a migraine!

11. What do you think of the person who posted this?

I think he is a warm, sensitive man who is deeply in love with his wife of nearly thirty years, and no, it was not Ed!

12. When did you last drink alcohol?

Christmas Day.

13. What were you doing at midnight last night?

Sleeping on my own as hubby is NEVER in bed before 1.00am

14. What did your last text message you received on your cell phone say?

"Just wondering how your week is going" from my Slimming World consultant.

15. Do you click on "Pop-Ups" or Banners?

No - not any more since I was shown the error of my ways!!!!!!!

16. What's a saying that you say a lot?

Would you like a cup of tea? LOL!!!!

Do you have any homework?

17. Who told you they loved you last?

Ed

18. Last furry thing you touched?

A Hairy package found under son’s bed – once contained a pastry! YUCK!!!!!!

19. How many rolls of film do you need to get developed?

None - but there are three disposable camera's there waiting to be developed!!!

20. How Many Times Have You Done It In The Past Three Days?

I have been doing I.T. all day if you are meaning Information Technology!!!! Well, what else could you be referring to anyway!

21. Favourite age you have been so far?

40’s

22. Your worst enemy?

Myself - lack of confidence!

23. What's your current desktop picture?

Not in control of the content - it is some woman sitting on the beach, looking wistfully out to sea - (actually, it is photo of me from about 20 years ago that Ed has on this computer!)

24. What was the last thing you said to someone?

What time do you want to leave? - I have to take Ed to collect the car from the garage where it has been for the last few days after it "died" on Ed on Sunday night!

25. If you had to choose between a million bucks or change a regret what would it be?

Take the money and run!!! - I have had a few regrets in my life but they are done and dusted now. And actually, my main regret at the moment is lack of money so this would solve two things wouldn’t it?

26. Do you love/like someone?
Silly question! Of course.

27. Have you done anything illegal?
Apart from speeding, not that I know of!!! -
Actually, coming back to this, there was an incident involving a hidden bottle of Southern Comfort, an Irish Guard and a Custom's Officer - but that was over 25 years ago and we got away with it!!! - They were far more interested in looking for Terrorists than contraband at the time. A member of the Royal Family and his family were blown up on their boat a week before this incident. We were very small fry! (and very young) Does that count?

A break in transmission

2006-01-22T15:43:00.000Z

I will write more of "the story", really I will.

It is just at the moment I am having trouble with my hands - or should I say my fingers and I am finding typing very painful and hard work. As well as that, I am making loads of typo's too!! The final straw was when I failed to grasp a cup and saucer that someone handed to me and I ended up with tea all over myself and the floor!!

So, I am imposing a typing break on myself for a few days in order to let the fingers rest a bit and see if that will help. I am taking some anti-inflammatory medication and hope it improves in a few days. Otherwise, it is a trip to the Doctor's for me - again!

Meanwhile, I will have time to move the story forward in my mind and I look forward to writing more soon.

Save my phone!!!

2006-01-21T11:47:00.000Z

There is nothing wrong with this phone is there? Ed is trying to persuade me to join the techno age!!!

It is stylish, great for texting, has a brilliant battery life and
it is my friend. OK - there is no camera, or mp3 player. I don't receive e-mails or access the internet on it - though I could if I wanted to.

I am going to need a lot of persuading to part with it......

Luddites of the world unite.

His Song

2006-01-20T12:18:00.000Z

All in Love is Fair

Stevie Wonder

All is fair in love
Love’s a crazy game
Two people vow to stay
In love as one they say
But all is changed with time
The future none can see
The road you leave behind
Ahead lies mystery
But all is fair in love
I had to go away
A writer takes his pen
To write the words again
That all in love is fair

All of fate’s a chance
It’s either good or bad
I tossed my coin to say
In love with me you’d stay
But all in war is so cold
You either win or lose
When all is put away
The losing side I’ll play
But all is fair in love
I should have never left your side
A writer takes his pen
To write the words again
That all in love is fair

A writer takes his pen
To write the words again
That all in love is fair

Notes in the margin

2006-01-16T21:50:00.003Z

You will see below that I have posted the next installment of the story.

I have been in a quandry.

I have deliberately used a technique that I thought was effective, of not using character names - trying to keep a little intrigue, or distance away from the characters.

Then I wrote this and thought that it was getting a bit too confusing having her and Her. So I gave Her a name. Then, I had second thoughts about this and so re-wrote it again, using the same format as before.

So, if you are getting confused - let me know.

If it fine and you are still with me, then great.

Feedback invited.

Thank you!!!!!

'Her' Story

2006-01-16T21:26:00.000Z

You know, she did love him. In her way, in her world, he was the centre. He was her one. Her constant. They were going to grow old together. Have babies together. Her father had gone (left her mum and brothers and sister) - trading them in for a younger wife. Younger family. It was because of her father that they had moved here in the first place. It was because of his job, he was the reason that they had to uproot and she was thrown into this new town, like a sacrificial lamb. Gone was the security of familiarity and in its place was the strange, the unknown. It was so different here. How was she supposed to fit in, make friends? How could she? Joining in one year before the exams. Not good timing. In fact, the worse time! Four years of friendship groups. Four years of bonding. Breaking into established cliques. No Room. No room for the "new girl". It was hard. Oh friendly enough on the outside. But, no-one to walk home with. No-one to eat lunch with. No-one to laugh with. Yes. It was hard, but eventually bonds were formed, cliques were broken. There was one girl she used to sit with in class. She was nice. Genuine. Actually listened. Oh and how good to be able to share the snippets of girly gossip with someone who giggled back.

And as time passed, and she had met him, it was with her that she shared his poems. It was with her that she shared her hopes. Her expectations. Her hurts. But she didn’t share it all. She kept some things back - she didn’t share the sexual explorations and exploits. She would not have liked that. Shy. Prudish even. No - she kept this to herself.

But, when the first flush of passion and lust had evolved into a breakdown of relationship and trust, it was good to be able to share this with her. She listened. She never interfered. Just listened. She knew that he was her centre. Her constant. Her one. She knew that she loved him. She knew that he hurt her, just as much as she hurt him. She knew this, because now he was sharing things with her as well. She liked this. At first she liked this. How easy it was to put little ideas into her head that would find their way to him. She would always take her side. She was Her friend after all. And how easy it was to manipulate. And as things got messier and more muddied, and the aches started changing into painful hurts, there was something cathartic about seeing her becoming more and more embroiled, enmeshed and drawn into the web. Her web. And so the manipulation started and grew and expanded and entrapped and exploded and destroyed and festered.

And still she stayed. Listening. There. Picking up the pieces after yet another argument. The calming presence. The sensible voice of reason amongst the tangled, tortured, tainted remains of a love that had run its course. She was there. Trapped.

Yes, she loved him you know. They were going to grow old together. Have babies together.

He was her centre. Her constant. Her one. Her Spring. Her normality. Her lover. Her lever. Her toy. Her tool. Her torture. Her knowing. Her unknowing. Her unforgiving. Her undoing. Her Winter.

Oh yes, she loved him, you know.

But by now, her "friend" did too.

'Her' Song

2006-01-15T16:02:00.000Z

Lovin' You - Minnie Riperton

Lovin' you is easy cause you're beautiful
Makin' love with you is all I wanna do
Lovin' you is more than just a dream come true
And everything that I do is out of lovin' you
La la la la la la la... do do do do do

No one else can make me feel
The colors that you bring
Stay with me while we grow old

And we will live each day in springtime
Cause lovin' you has made my life so beautiful
And every day my life is filled with lovin' you

Lovin' you I see your soul come shinin' through
And every time that we oooooh
I'm more in love with you
La la la la la la la... do do do do do

She sat

2006-01-13T19:57:00.000Z

The bus journey the next morning seemed endless. Endless but still, all too soon, it was time to get off and get on with the day. She paused outside the door, heart racing. How was she going to do this? Cool cucumber façade hid ruby red tomato embarrassment as she pushed open the door. It was heavy and she had to push fairly hard to make it open. This morning it was even heavier than normal. Heavy heart. Heavy door.

As she passed the threshold, her eyes scanned the room. Where would she sit? Where was the first empty chair? There was a seat close by. Thankfully she scuttled for cover, walking purposefully, head down, praying for the cloak of invisibility and anonymity. Just a few more steps. Relief. Safety. Haven.

But, as her knees bend to sit, her eyes are drawn to a spot on her right. There he was. Standing. Watching. Waiting. Waving. He is beckoning to her to come and sit by him. Red tomato embarrassment flushing her face, the sit became a stand and she took the few awkward steps to join him, her steps, accompanied by the collective noise of several indrawn breaths. Could she stay upright long enough? Her step, her stumble drew her closer. 10 seconds of time became a 10 mile walk as time froze in an instant.

Eventually, time kick-started back and she was standing there next to him. She could see the crinkled crease of the smile around his eyes. The welcome was almost palpable - his gesture warm and indicated that he wanted her to sit with him - it seemed as if he had even saved the chair for her - but surely not?

So she sat, like a rabbit caught in headlights and as she sat she became aware of the stilted hum of restarted conversations as the background noise level was suddenly turned up a notch or two, drowning out that sound of silence that thudded so ominously in her ears as she walked. That hum was swelled by the pleasantries they exchanged. Amazingly, words escaped from her frozen mouth. Yes, she was fine. Yes, it was cold this morning wasn’t it! How could it be so normal? How could HE be so normal? Did this mean that there was hope? Slowly a tiny thread of hope unravelled from the huge knot of despondency that caged her heart. Did this mean that they might have a future after all?

Her ice-clad mouth gradually formed more words as the glow of hope warmed her. And then silence. First, a sudden hush of expectation fell across the room. Then, as the slow blush of realisation hit her full pelt in the face, her words slammed to a halt as she became aware of the reason for the silence. For there She stood, framed in the doorway, eyes locked on the two of them, enveloping the whole room in her stare. In the silence of the moment, the tiny glow of hope vanished as she felt the tight grasp of ice-bars capture her heart again and locked it tightly in their frozen grip. So tight was their grasp that her heart failed to beat for a split-second as she realised that She was making her way over to them. Then another tight grasp and a brief, momentary gasp as she realised that the empty chair that she was occupying now, must have been meant for Her all along. How could she have been so stupid?

So she sat, face now rapidly deserted by the cucumber cool and replaced by the tomato red blush of embarrassment, waiting for the impending consequence of the night before. Would it be the sting of words that assaulted her? Or would it be the sting of hand across face? The whole room waited, breath momentary withheld in anticipation of the onslaught.

But, cucumber cool She came, and sat down on the arm of the chair next to her. And the room was again filled with the breath and chatter of crisis averted. Relief. There would be no scene this morning.

Normality. Calm. But for one of them, heart now firmly locked in the icy cage of despair, normality was a state that she was to yearn for all too often over the following few months. For as the bell rang out for the start of the day, the door of the cage around her heart slammed firmly shut and the key was turned and removed and hidden.

She ran.

2006-01-10T14:52:00.000Z

She ran.

For, as they danced that final dance, she saw Her, standing there behind them.

She turned and backed away. She left the room with that image firmly etched in her mind.

Her image. Her face. Her stance. Just her. Her look. Her face.

That face. Such beauty. The pale clear skin topped by shiny dark hair. Those flashing dark eyes. But that beauty was marred, at that precise moment, with such spite and malice, and just a hint of disbelief, because, for those last few hours, the poor relation, the ugly duckling, had spent the evening with her Prince Charming. And this particular Prince Charming was the same one who just happened to have spent the last few months, trying on the glass slipper on Her dainty little foot. This same Prince Charming who had, up until very, very recently, been due to take that particular Princess to the Ball.

That look said it all.

And with that look the bubble burst. How could she be so foolish? How could she be so naïve? Did she really think that he could be interested in her?

Pop!

Hopes. Dreams. Fancies. It could never be.

Pop! Gone.

Why would he choose her when he could have Her?

Oh yes, appetising enough in a homely way. Of course a bowl containing two scoops of ice cream is quite refreshing on a hot day and following a meal, ends off the experience on a cool, sweet, pleasant note. But why would he chose plain ice cream when, laid before him was an ice cream sundae. Piled high with cream, and cherries and sprinkles, it just cries out to be eaten. To be tasted. Why would he take a spoon to her simple dish when he was being offered such delights in another crystal cut glass bowl? The cream, oozing over the side, merging with the sweet confection decorating the outside, hinting of the pleasure to be found when this was removed. Why have plain when you could have opulence? Why have cotton when you could have silk?

He would never choose her. Her dream, just like ice cream, melted.

She turned and backed away. She left the room with that image firmly etched in her mind.

Her image. Her face. Her stance. Just her. Her look. Her face. That face.

She ran.

His Pull

2006-01-07T18:26:00.000Z

His pull was magnetic. As she looked at him it felt as if she had come home. She had reached the end of her rainbow. When they talked, she listened to his voice and knew that it stirred her in a way that nothing else had ever done so before. His voice was so familiar, it was so known to her. Every tone and timbre reverberated in her being. It was comfortable. Familiar. Like being wrapped up in a fluffy pink security blanket.

When she looked into his eyes she saw far deeper than the reflected self she saw there. Those deep blue eyes just drew her mezmerised into the mystery that was him. Laughing dancing eyes that flirted and called her hither. Dangerous flashing eyes that hinted at danger, and drama and delight. Cool ice blue eyes that masked the warmth she knew was lurking under the surface. Those eyes. Just, those eyes.

The tone of his skin. The curl of his hair. The way it softly kinked around his neck and curled at the point where it touched his collar. As she looked, she resisted the urge to reach out and twirl a curl around her finger. She instinctively knew that he would not like it. How could she know? But yet she did. She knew that he would shrink from such a touch. She knew that he would be defensive and shy away from such a gesture.

But she also knew that behind that ice poured fire. She knew that he too felt the molten glow of burning coals when their fingers met. She knew that the spark was lit. The current that flowed through her was felt by him. The way their fingers tingled as they entwined. The way their bodies moulded as the danced. The way they fitted together. Two pieces of a jigsaw. Two becoming one. One shape. Two pieces. She knew. He knew. One knowing.

Should she step forward, or turn away and run?

At Seventeen

2006-01-06T19:15:00.000Z

At seventeen she stood at the cross-roads. Not yet a woman. Not quite a girl. She stood and watched as she could see the pathway that beckoned her to the future but stood at a point where she could look back at the path that signposted her past.

Afraid to move forward.

Afraid to move back.

And even more afraid to stand still.

And there. Shining like a beacon he stood. Forbidden fruit. Tempting her, calling her, teasing her, wanting her, knowing her, but frightening her. He belonged to someone else but was there for her. He sent her signals of availability but all around him was the barrier of unavailability. The padlock was there, huge and threatening but he was handing her the key. The signs said go but the red light that enveloped him said stop. He was hers but not hers. He wanted her but did not want her. He waved to her with one hand but stabbed her with the other at the same time.

Was there any wonder that she was confused?

Inside my brain...

2006-01-03T21:29:00.000Z

I don't know what it is about me recently.

I sometimes wonder if it is because I am hypo-thyroid, but far too often, my head feels as if it is stuffed with cotton wool. Or mashed potato.

I appear to be walking around in a fuzzy, slightly yellow-edged fog.

I am there, but I am not here.

I here, but am I there?

My brain seems less sharp than it should be.
My reactions are slower.
My words get muddled.
My memory is jaded - it is there - it is just slower to hit the recall button than I feel it ought.
Just not quite "with it" - or perhaps, just a little "without it" - but I reserve judgement on what exactly "it" is.

It's like one of those join the dot puzzles I used to do as a child. You can make out the shape, you can see what it is, but, with the dots unjoined, the image lacks definition. And without that defining line, it is if all the contents are gradually leaking out and dispersing into the ether. It is not controlled. It is not contained. It just lacks outline..

I know it sounds weird. And it is weird. And how am I supposed to explain this to a Doctor. I can imagine his response now. It's that look over the edge of his specs and the slightly elevated eyebrows look of "oh my, we have a right one here"!!!

Much of this is due to tiredness I am sure, and, as I have mentioned before, that wall of tiredness is thicker some days than others. Perhaps I really need a string of early nights rather than the odd one thrown in occasionally..

And before you ask, the only drugs I take are prescription medications for my Thyroid deficiency and I very rarely drink alcohol...so I can't blame them.

On the other hand, it could just be my age..........................

Hmm. Now there is one to ponder!!!!

PS This is my favourite song of 2005 - Damien Rice and "The Blower's Daughter" - now this is often inside my brain and very welcome it is too....

Another meme thing

2006-01-02T21:18:00.000Z

I found this on someone's blog and I thought it was a good idea. It takes its inspiration
for the adverts for American Express card

My name is Sue

Childhood ambition ….was to write stories and paint pictures and live in a big house
and not have to work and to have servants.

Fondest memory …... is sitting in a field of buttercups with my handsome Prince, being
crowned his "Lady of the Buttercups"

Soundtrack …. is the Rachmaninov soundtrack to the film Brief Encounter

Retreat …..is the beach..or my bed

Wildest dream ….. is to be a millionaire

Proudest moment ….. was the birth of our children

Biggest challenge ….. was passing my driving test aged 28

Alarm clock ….. is the sun when it rises - we do not have a blind for our skylight
(we sleep in a converted loft room)

Perfect day …. is anywhere hot and sunny with Ed..

First job …..was a holiday job at our local post office whilst an undergraduate

Indulgence ….. long hot bubblebaths

Last purchase …..inserts for my filofax

Favorite movie …..the Wizard of Oz with Judy Garland

Inspiration ….. comes from my Christian faith

My Life ….. is full of love and laughter - can you ask for anything more?

My card ….. don't have one - sorry AmEx

His World

2005-12-30T22:04:00.000Z

In the eyes
of the world
he is smiling

but

in the eyes
of his smiles
is the world.

In the heart
of the world
there is need

but

In his heart
there is need
for this world

In the love
of the world
he is giving

but

what he gives
in his love
is his world.

In the lives
of the world
there is hope

but

its the hope
in his world
that is life.

The Advent Virus

2005-12-23T23:23:00.000Z

WARNING……WARNING: ADVENT VIRUS

Be on the alert for symptoms of inner Hope, Peace, Joy and Love. The hearts of a great many have already been exposed to this virus and it is possible that people everywhere could come down with it in epidemic proportions. This could pose a serious threat to what has, up to now, been a fairly stable condition of conflict in the world.

Some signs and symptoms of The Advent Virus:

A tendency to think and act spontaneously rather than on fears based on past experiences.

An unmistakable ability to enjoy each moment.

A loss of interest in judging other people.

A loss of interest in interpreting the actions of others.

A loss of interest in conflict.

A loss of the ability to worry. (This is a very serious symptom.)

Frequent, overwhelming episodes of appreciation.

Contented feelings of connectedness with others and nature.

Frequent attacks of smiling.

An increasing tendency to let things happen rather than make them happen.

An increased susceptibility to the love extended by others as well as the uncontrollable urge to extend it.

Please send this warning out to all your friends. This virus can and has affected many systems. Some systems have been completely cleaned out because of it.

Happy Christmas to you and yours.

May you all be Blessed this Christmas, and I hope you all catch a few of these symptoms..

I am hoping for a full scale attack.

The song before the post

2005-12-21T12:27:00.000Z

At Seventeen ( Janis Ian )

I learned the truth at seventeen
That love was meant for beauty queens
And high school girls with clear skinned smiles
Who married young and then retired

The valentines I never knew
The Friday night charades of youth
Were spent on one more beautiful
At seventeen I learned the truth

And those of us with ravaged faces
Lacking in the social graces
Desperately remained at home
Inventing lovers on the phone
Who called to say come dance with me
And murmured vague obscenities
It isn't all it seems
At seventeen

A brown eyed girl in hand me downs
Whose name I never could pronounce
Said, pity please the ones who serve
They only get what they deserve

The rich relationed hometown queen
Married into what she needs
A guarantee of company
And haven for the elderly

Remember those who win the game
Lose the love they sought to gain
Indebentures of quality
And dubious integrity
Their small town eyes will gape at you
In dull surprise when payment due
Exceeds accounts received
At seventeen

To those of us who know the pain
Of valentines that never came
And those whose names were never called
When choosing sides for basketball

It was long ago and far away
The world was younger than today
And dreams were all they gave for free
To ugly duckling girls like me

We all play the game and when we dare
To cheat ourselves at solitaire
Inventing lovers on the phone
Repenting other lives unknown
That call and say, come dance with me
And murmur vague obscenities
At ugly girls like me
At seventeen

My Music Choice

2005-12-16T18:00:00.000Z

I have taken a leaf out of Ed's book (or should I say, a code out of Ed's blog) and added the music player to the side..

You may well know the Lee Ann Womack version (which I have heard but over here it is Ronan Keating who is associated with this song!)

If you have never really listened to the lyrics, why don't you take a few minutes now and play the song and read (or sing) along.

This really speaks (or shoudl I say sings) to me.....

Artist: Ronan Keating
Song: I Hope You Dance

Lyrics:

I hope you never lose your sense of wonder,
You get your fill to eat but always keep that hunger,
May you never take one single breath for granted,
God forbid love ever leaves you empty handed,
I hope you still feel small when you stand beside the ocean,
Whenever one door closes I hope one more opens,
Promise me that you'll give faith a fighting chance,
And when you get the choice to sit it out or dance.

I hope you dance....
I hope you dance,

I hope you never fear those mountains in the distance,
Never settle for the path of least resistance
Living might mean taking chances but they're worth taking,
Loving might be a mistake but it's worth making
Don't let some hell bent heart leave you bitter
When you come close to selling out reconsider
Give the heavens above more than just a passing glance,
And when you get the choice to sit it out or dance...

[Sung over the top::]
Time is a wheel in constant motion always rolling us along,
Tell me who wants to look back on their years
and wonder where those years have gone.

I hope you dance....
I hope you dance,
I hope you dance....
I hope you dance,

I hope you still feel small when you stand beside the ocean
Whenever one door closes I hope one more opens
Promise me that you'll give faith a fighting chance
And when you get the choice to sit it out or dance

Dance....

[Sung over the top::]
Time is a wheel in constant motion always rolling us along,
Tell me who wants to look back on their years
and wonder where those years have gone.

I hope you dance,
I hope you dance....
I hope you dance,
I hope you dance....
I hope you dance,

Time is a wheel in constant motion always rolling us along
Tell me who wants to look back on their years
and wonder where those years have gone.

I hope you enjoyed that as much as I did. The good thing about having your own blog is that you can do things that YOU want to do and no worries about what anyone else thinks!!!! (And play music that your significant other may not like..tee hee...)

I wonder why it is?

2005-12-13T18:12:00.000Z

I wonder why it is that, more and more recently, I look in the mirror and see my mother looking back at me?

And I also wonder why it is, that I am accepting this fact far more graciously in my forties than I ever did in my thirties!

Apparently, I am middle aged!

I think my body is beginning to get the message a bit too.

Creaky clicky knees that remind me of their presence every time I go up or down a staircase. Sags and droops in places that didn’t used to and those bits that have always sagged and drooped seem much nearer the ground these days.

My face has changed over the years. There is no getting away from that. The ravages of time and the loss of 40 or so pounds have certainly taken its toll. The eyes that look out at me are the same, but the frown line between my brows and the crinkles around the eyes are fairly recent additions to the reflection that I see.

I am getting more used to seeing myself the way I am now, though there are times when I catch a glimpse of my reflection in a shop window or a ladies bathroom and have to stop myself from acknowledging an acquaintance when I realise that that person is actually me.

I still head for the outsize section when I am looking for clothes. I pick things up in my "new" size and think that the garment will be far too small for me. Why am I always so surprised when it fits?

But this 45 year old me is a far happier and confident person than I have ever been.

This me will say no.
This me will speak up for herself.
This me has an opinion. And shares it.
This me is far happier in "her skin" than she was!
This me actually believes my husband when he tells me I am beautiful.

This me actually LIKES ME!!

I may feel 17 on the inside, and look like my 70-year-old mother on the outside, but the bit in the middle is quite happy to be 45 (well, most of the time anyway!)

10 random things about me.

2005-12-10T09:54:00.000Z

I thought I would join in. But I am part of the “boring crowd” too, I am afraid.

I get panicky if I am in crowds and am not very good in small spaces or tunnels.
I once got stuck in a lift at the Eiffel Tower in Paris – That was not fun – but thankfully it was only for 10 minutes.
I sing nearly all the time. Nearly every conversation I have with the family reminds me of a song which I then have to sing and thankfully, they are very good at humouring me!!! Actually I love to sing and am most regretful that I have had to stop singing in public because of some medical issues. Doesn’t stop me singing in the bath though!
I enjoy maths (particularly algebra) and have recently started doing Suduku puzzles.
I wrote my first poem aged 10. My mother really burst my bubble and knocked my confidence, as she would not believe that I had written it! I do not remember writing any others until I was 14 when I started writing again. BTW, I never showed my mother any more.
I got banned from the Museum where I was doing my research for my Thesis. Now, what heinous crime did I commit? I started delving to far into the terms of a certain Bequest to the Nation and the Curator started to get a bit jumpy, so he banned me. I learned this later from the Assistant Curator who let me go back and finish what I had started after a huge stink by my Professor! This particular gentleman was later removed from his post for something else unrelated to this issue but I don’t think I helped his case much…
I got left behind a train station in Germany by the rest of my party and had to get myself back to Amsterdam where we were staying! Luckily a rather nice German gentleman took pity on me and put me on a direct train and his English was perfect!
The only thing I wear in bed is perfume.
I don’t like the cold. I am nearly always cold. I love the sunshine and the summer – but I try to avoid sitting in the sun for long as I burn very easily.
When I was a child my hair was auburn, it was the same foxy colour as our dog. It got darker as I entered my teens. Since then, I have been various shades of red, once, a very disastrous carrot orange, black, brunette and now I have so many different shades and highlights, it is hard to say what shade I am. I would have many “natural” (grey) highlights if I left it to nature!

There. Said I was boring didn’t I? Actually, life with two teenagers, a mad dog and a lovely husband is not boring and I would not change it for the world.

Silken skin nights

2005-12-08T18:00:00.000Z

Silken skin nights
suppress the memory
of sandpaper days,

glowing white lights
replace the shadows
and ill defined haze.

Hiding in sleep
burrowing down deep
to slide within the greenness
of your leafy cool maze

Ponderings

2005-12-04T20:38:00.000Z

As she walks along the grassy lane, she bows her head even lower to avoid the branches that dip down low, barring her way. Today the weight of the heavy shower that fell last night weighs the branches down even further, their jewel hung leaves and twigs hang low and heavy. Rather like her heart.

She walks slowly. She looks at the ground. She needs to beware of the pits and troughs that pock-mark the lane. She chooses her path carefully.

With head bowed low and eyes downcast, she reaches the fork and she stops. At this place, she has to look up. She has to lift her eyes and lift her head upwards in order to make the decision which way to go.

Up until that moment, she didn’t have to think about where she was going. Those feet had trodden that road so often. But now, she stands. Still. Stopped. Static. Now was the time. Or was it?

She casts her eyes down the road to the right. Green grassy banks, clothed in white, fragrant flowers. There is a large oak tree growing midway down one side. Shining in the distance she can see a shaft of light breaking the cover of the overhead branches. The light draws her eyes onward. Onward to the point where the road bends and curves and she can see no more. Nothing. No hint. No clue. She can no longer see where this path may go, but yet she is drawn towards it. It is pulling her onwards.

She looks to the left. Another lane. Another road. Another path. More green banks but these are swathed and criss-crossed with tangled brambles and briars, that snake their way down over the road. Her eyes are drawn to the spot where the tall trees tunnel their branches in such a way that the road seems like a channel. It is straight, and far into the distance she can see a circle of light, just a distant spot on the horizon but near enough for her to get a tantalising glimpse of what, of what just might, of what just could, be down that road.

Yet she hesitates. Though her feet have often walked this way before she has never past this point. This towering tree has always been the place she stops and ponders.

Should she go?

Or should she stay?

Will she go on?

Or will she turn back?

What will she do?

What would you do?

If you should want
To leave it all
And walk with me
Along this road

If you should see
Me walk away
Then come with me
Without delay

If we should leave
And shut the door
to take the path
That we can see

If we should choose
To start again
Then make it quick
Walk down the lane

The choice is yours
You choose the way
You know you only
Have to say

It’s up to you.
You go.
You stay.

My sunshine

2005-11-29T22:59:00.000Z

As I looked into her face,
I saw the shiny happy glow
of sheer delight.

When I looked into her eyes
I saw the sparkle and the beam
of joy so bright

When I look and see her smile
I see the wonder and the awe
the radiant light

of a child holding a snowball....

Such a simple thing..
Such a simple pleasure
Simple..but absolutely priceless..

(and I have that moment, captured for ever, in a photograph.
I am so blessed)

Tiredness

2005-11-28T23:10:00.000Z

There is a wall blocking out the sunshine today.

Gradually the bricks have enclosed me and the light has become fainter.
That wall is usually there, somewhere. It is never far away.

There are times when I can get round that wall. Easy peasy. Just a stroll, a gentle stretch and there I am, back in the sunlight again.

There are times when I have the strength to climb right over it.

Often, I am thrown a rope and am pulled up to the top and helped over it.

The best days are when it never really gets too high and I can just step over it.

But today, that wall is there and I have barged straight into it, like an insect hitting the windscreen at speed as you whizz along the road on a summer night. Splat.

Boy that wall is solid.

There is a wall blocking out the sunlight today.

But there is enough light reaching me to encourage me that tomorrow is another day.
And when the sun shines, that wall really does not look that high.

Words. Poems.

2005-11-26T07:44:00.000Z

I have shared some parts of me, somewhere else, and if you are visiting here, you will know where... and the curtains are drawn there now.

But part of me wants to write. To express myself.

Is this a vanity? Yes.

Is this selfish? Yes

Is this indulgent? Yes

Well, so be it.

There was a time in my life, oh a long time ago, when the words flowed freely from my pen. I wrote in a hard backed blue book, ink dipped glimpses into my soul.

Words. Poems.
They flowed and gushed like fountain springs. They burbled and trilled like the water rushing down a mountain stream, full of melt water. Sometimes they flooded. Sometimes they forced their way into uncomfortable crevices and found new outlets for its path. Sometimes the force was so powerful it ripped and changed the landscape as it raged full pelt towards the release of the open sea. Sometimes, they glided gently along, the sunshine glistening on the smooth surface of suggestion and supposition.
Words. Poems.

But now, that creative flood has dried. The occasional trickle. The odd spurt of something. This stream has become more even than a stagnant pool. I think it has dried up completely.

But who knows. Perhaps here I can explore the rock strewn recesses of my mind and maybe, just maybe, find the occasional glimpse of running water again.

Words. Poems.

I hope so.

Sometimes

2005-11-24T15:04:00.000Z

Do you know me? Well, you might..

Some of you will have shared in my most intimate moments. Some of you will even have seen a little more of me than perhaps you should have..

Some of you may have a picture of me in your mind... but always as part of someone else..

This is scary.. going it alone..

No, don't get me wrong..everything is great..our marriage is perfect - or as close as it can be anyway..

But I wanted a little place of my own. Somewhere to bolt to.. Somewhere to retreat to. somewhere of my own. No agenda. No constraints. No expectations.

Actually, I have another blog - a real life blog - but I still can't totally free myself from the constraints and boundaries that I myself have put in place there....

So why Sunshine?

Well, you may know me as something else and I am still she..

But like the Sunshine I am a fickle creature.

Sometimes I am hot..really hot.

Sometimes I am strong... really strong.

Sometimes I am weak and hardly show at all and

Sometimes you don't see me for days as I hide behind the clouds..

Sometimes I can cheer you up when you are down.

Mostly I am there in the background, and you don't even need to give me a thought..

But one thing is for sure, when I go down at night, I rise up again in the morning and that is certain. And when I rise I don't know what each day will bring, but I carry with me the hope and expectation of a fresh and brand new day. And this is how I live my life.

I can't say that I will be here every day. But when I am, it is with these hopes and expectations newly created and arisen and the reassurance that comes from knowing that I love and am loved. That is what makes me happy. This is my sunshine.

But when I do come here..

Let's share..

Sunshine.

Sue.

Me.

Do you know me? Well, you just might... a little... but there is more.............

The sun rises

2005-11-23T15:08:00.000Z

Sunshine on my shoulders makes me happy
Sunshine in my eyes can make me cry
Sunshine on the water looks so lovely
Sunshine almost always makes me high

If i had a day that i could give you
I'd give to you a day just like today
If i had a song that i could sing for you
I'd sing a song to make you feel this way

Sunshine on my shoulders makes me happy
Sunshine in my eyes can make me cry
Sunshine on the water looks so lovely
Sunshine almost always makes me high

If i had a tale that i could tell you
I'd tell a tale sure to make you smile
If i had a wish that i could wish for you
I'd make a wish for sunshine all the while

Sunshine on my shoulders makes me happy
Sunshine in my eyes can make me cry
Sunshine on the water looks so lovely
Sunshine almost always makes me high
Sunshine almost all the time makes me high
Sunshine almost always

Words by john denver

Sunshine on your shoulder

Guess what?

Hi

Good advice?

Trying to find the sunshine...

Night Owl, Morning Serenade..

Word Cloud

Cat's coming

Tonight

Here we are Steve - I did it!!

Well, that cameraphone DID come in useful...

The Object of our Daughter's Desire...

Dare to be different

A High Five for Ed!

A cautionary tale

Writing

Another one of those quiz thingies!!

A poem for you...

My Favourite Song Lyrics - But I think its this one!

My Favourite Song Lyrics - it could be this one!

My Favourite Song Lyrics - or it could be this one!

Search For The Hero

by M People

album: Bizarre Fruit (1995),The Best of M-People (2001)

I am going to have to change the name of this blog

A poem re-visited, prompted by a memory

A memory re-awakened

I have a new man in my life!

Sorry to give you all a fright...

Pinched from Ed

Ain't no Sunshine

My love for you is like an iceberg

I gave in!!!

A Fishy Story

What is love - when you are eight years old

The Closest Thing to Crazy

You pondered, I wondered!!

Weekly quiz

Triple A plus two!!!!

Who would paint Your portrait

St David's Day

Life is funny like that......

The Bard in the news

Women's things!

Hmm - Is this me?

Post Box

Just listen for a while....

Condolences

His Story

A painful place revisited

WOW

I'm a Ferrari 360 Modena!

Another meme thingy

A break in transmission

Save my phone!!!

His Song

Notes in the margin

'Her' Story

'Her' Song

She sat

She ran.

His Pull

At Seventeen

Inside my brain...

Another meme thing

His World

The Advent Virus

The song before the post

My Music Choice

I wonder why it is?

10 random things about me.

Silken skin nights

Ponderings

My sunshine

Tiredness

Words. Poems.

Sometimes

The sun rises

album: Bizarre Fruit (1995),
The Best of M-People (2001)