Sweetness and Light

A load of bullocks.......in knitwear?

2011-07-27T14:00:00.000-07:00

It's been so long since my last post and so much has changed since then, not least the amount of weight I've put on. In fact I'm considering changing the blog to 'Sweetness and not so l
Light'

Today Philip and I went to the Cardigan show, no we have not spent the day looking at knitted garments. We have been to the agricultural show in Cardigan, where we now live. Although some of the exhibits in the sheep and goat sections were wonderfully woolley. The Angoras were magnificent.

We spoke to a lady from the West Wales goat Society, who quite frankly really got my goat when she implied that pygmy goats are not 'real' goats. She did however, give us the contact details of a local lady who keeps pygmy goats. So hopefully when we are ready to have kids we can use the local breeder. I just read that last sentence back and realised it didn't sound good. What I mean is that when we are ready to buy our goats we can get them locally instead of having to go all the way back to Shrewsbury. (Phew, think I got out of that one ok.)

Zak, our little dog behaved impeccably around the livestock and we even managed to sit and watch some of the horse shows. My favourites were the miniatures and the Shires, polished and plaited to within an inch of their lives.

The local produce tent was full of leeks..........and carrots and beans. How do they manage to grow vegetables that look as if they've never seen dirt of any kind? There were onions the size of footballs....enough to feed a family of four for a week.

I had a good look round the local crafts tent, did I buy the handcarved wooden spoons or the beautifully stitched cushion covers? the locally crafted jewellery or the marvellous marquetry pictures? No, I emerged with two plastic carrier bags full of booze! It was all made from locally grown fruits though.

Returning to the cattle pens, Philip and I giggled about the size of the bulls' testicles. A little childish I admit, but they could not be ignored. Although Philip thought this capricorn had the best set of gemini of the day.

All in all we had a very enjoyable day. On our return home we opened a bottle of delicious gooseberry wine and I sat back and soaked up the sun. Until Philip, who cannot sit still for more than five minutes, decided to remove the window frame from the outside toilet. With a sledgehammer! I wouldn't mind but it's not more than six feet from where I was snoozing. Ah well, bless him. Not so much MC Hammer more WC Sledgehammer.

And so, to end a rather pleasant day, a barbecue and a few bevvies I think. Tomorrow, we really should do some work. I keep forgetting we're not on holiday.

Ah well, life's tough down here in Cardigan.

Natalie Rose

2011-03-05T22:08:00.000-08:00

They say time is a great healer, yet the pain still cuts as deep today as it did twenty nine years ago today. Every moment of that terrible day is etched on my heart. I thought my life would end. But it didn't, and whilst today is a sad day, I will try not to dwell on the sad memories.

I will celebrate her short, sweet life. I will remember her soft,warm skin on mine. Her beautiful baby scent. The way she looked straight into my eyes with her own big brown eyes whilst feeding.

I will remember the overwhelming love she evoked in me. The joy she gave me and the sense of being complete for the first time in my life.

This day twenty nine years ago was the worse day of my life, but those preceding sixteen weeks were some of the best days of my life. I will always be sad that those days came to such a sad and sudden end, but I will always feel so very lucky to have known my beautiful baby girl.

Natalie Rose, still missed, still loved.

2011-02-15T23:21:00.000-08:00

Two years ago I embarked on a journey which opened my eyes to the wonders of life. A new relationship with a beautiful man ( yes a man can be described as beautiful) with a passion for the miracles of nature, all things edible ( and believe me, with Philip, most things are edible!) and talking about himself and his life experiences.

I discovered a childlike joy in everything. We walked in forests, on beaches, round lakes, through fields, up hills and down dales. I learned about wildlife, flora and forna alike. We picked wild mushrooms and wood sorell. I learned to tell the difference between the tracks made by a fox, a deer or a rabbit, to recognise birds and their song.

We would often lay on our backs and look up at the sky discussing clouds by day and stars by night.

I remember one particular wonderful day when I discovered rock pools on the beach, I was completely mesmerised by the abundance of life within. Little limpets, mussels, jelly fish and the most amazing sea urchins in all the colours of the rainbow!

Yesterday I realised that I had lost the art of "seeing". I have been unwell for some time now and fallen into the trap of becoming overwhelmed by life's problems. This last week has been particularly difficult and I just about hit rock bottom. Not a nice experience but, I believe a necessary one. I have been in a dark place, there seemed to be no light to look towards. I now know that there was light but I had given up looking for it. I had lay down defeated.

Thankfully, with help and support and the knowledge that I have people who love me, I have found a light to follow. There are the stirrings of a new beginning within me. All life is nothing short of a miracle and my life is precious. I am so lucky to have the opportunity to witness the wonders in our world. I just forgot for a while.

Rolypoly Robin

2010-12-03T09:37:00.000-08:00

In these cold and snowy days it is very hard for the little birds in our gardens to find food. We always take great pleasure in feeding and watching quite an array of different kinds of feathered friends. We have seen Blue tits, Coal tits, Greenfinches, and Goldfinches. Collared doves and pigeons. Dunnocks and House sparrows, Starlings, Blackbirds and a little Wren. Then of course there is the sweet little Robin.

The cheeky little chappy with the bright red breast, pictured on the top of a milk bottle on a Christmas card. In fact we have discovered that this sweet little chap is maybe quite not so sweet. Having made birdcake with fat and fruit and nuts, we placed them on the feeders along with some streaky bacon. We sat back to watch the birds feed. On the fence sat a Dunnock and a Collared Dove. The little Dunnock is a nervous little bird who spends a long time checking that the coast is clear before hopping onto the feeding tray to fill his tiny tummy.As soon as he lands on the tray he is " bombed" by Mr. Redbreast, who then returns to his perch on the other side of the garden.
The Dove, a much bigger bird flutters over to the tray only to recieve the same treatment. It seems that size doesn't matter to the Robin. He will not allow any other bird to feed at "his" table. He will not share.

We will endeavour to keep our feathered guests fed through the winter, and hopefully the Dove and the little Dunnock can manage to find Mr. Redbreast napping and fill their little tummies in peace.

Good days, bad days.

2010-07-19T11:55:00.000-07:00

Today was a good day. I walked round Durham City with Philip. Had lunch in a very pictuesque pub garden and strolled along the riverside in the summer rain.

I remembered all the good things in my life and am thankful for them all.

Tomorrow may be different..... but tomorrow is another day.

Fight the good fight

2010-07-16T02:20:00.000-07:00

At times like this I yearn for a quiet place where I can be alone and hide away from the world. In my mind my wardrobe has a corner way, way back where no-one can see into. I long to crawl into that space and just sit. Safe, warm and hidden. Where I can just fade away and not have to fight any more.

Sometimes life is such hard work and I just don't have the energy to go on. Well meaning people will say " what do you have to be depressed about? You have a nice life" And I do. I am not alone or old and infirm. I am not homeless. I am not unloved.

I am one in four (if you believe the official statistics..... I believe it is more like one in two) of people who will suffer some sort of mental health problem in their lifetime. I was diagnosed as having bipolar disorder, what used to be called Manic depression. This may be a controversial thing for me to say but I feel shortchanged because I only get the severe depression and not the manic highs. I'm sorry if that offends anyone, but after watching tv documentaries about people with manic depression I get the impression that the "up" episodes can be envigorating. I have heard manic depressives say that the manic episodes are the only time they feel alive. That is not true for me, when I am not really down I do have a good life.

I know this blackness will pass, it always does. As long as I don't allow myself to shut myself away and become reclusive. I am lucky to have many supportive and empathetic people in my life and am truly grateful for their love and support. I have many resources on which I can draw, if only I can get some motivation. I wish you could buy it at Tesco! I try to surround myself with positive distractions and ride out the bad times.

In good times I am grateful for the down episodes, because without the downs I might not recognise how good the good times are.

Writing this has helped me and I hope it might let others know that they are not alone in suffering. I send positive wishes and thoughts to anyone who is suffering right now.

Shoot that damn dog!

2010-07-14T12:31:00.000-07:00

Does anyone want a dog? I certainly don't want it, but it seems to follow me around. I thought I had got rid of it but it keeps finding me. I'm talking about the big black dog that is depression. I really thought I had it sorted but for some reason it keeps rearing it's nasty little head to bite me.

Those pesky wabbits!

2010-07-11T04:56:00.000-07:00

So, returning to the allotment after a two week absence, I was dissapointed to see that the beans have not come up at all. Not so much "has beans" as never will be.

We do have some mange tout sprouting but they are looking very sorry for themselves after being nibbled by rabbits. Not entirely eaten away more "manged en peu" than mange tout.

The tomatoes are doing well and look healthy and strong.

Of course we have the potatoes. I am searching for potato recipes!

We decided not to follow the advice of just about everyone we know, I don't want to shoot or snare and eat the bunnies! We have covered the peas with chicken wire to try to deter them, although if they really want them they could easily burrow under. We have also employed someone to keep watch on the veg when we are not there. Philip's son and daughter in law gave him a little scarecrow for Father's day. I hope he works on rabbits too!

There is still so much to do to clear the rest of the land but in this weather it would be just too much like hard work. There are still piles and piles of rocks and bricks to clear before erecting a shed and maybe the greenhouse.

The tree we cut down is still lying in bits in the entrance. We had thought about burning it in situ but thought our neighbour might not be best pleased if his shed caught fire. Then we decided to take it to the local tip.. but the bearings on the trailer have gone and we just cannot afford to get it fixed at this time.

Philip seemed to have lost momentum a little and talked yesterday of giving up the allotment altogether. After all the work we've put in already I was horrified. Luckily he seems to be interested again. He was even talking about taking on the neighbouring patch as the guy appears to be letting it go a bit. That would give me room to have quite a few chickens which sounds good to me. We'll see.

I keep hoping for a real good downpoor, but it just isn't happening. I spent about two hours watering yesterday and the ground looked just as dry and dusty as it did before I started. Is it me or does everyone get so protective over their veg? It's almost a maternal feeling. Ok so it probably is me and I should maybe not admit to that so publicly.

Later today we are taking delivery of a truckload of fresh horse manure so next week will be spent shovelling shit. Oh the joys of gardening!

The "Home" Counties

2010-06-18T10:49:00.000-07:00

After a long and very strenuous week working on the allotment, Philip and I travelled South for a week's camping. No not St Tropez. Last year we discovered a lovely little campsite in Tenterdon, Kent. We decided a return visit was on the cards. So, on Monday we set off with the car packed to the roof and the dog sat on my lap. I wouldn't normally travel with Zak in the front, but unfortunately the wheel bearing on the trailer went a couple of days earlier so everything had to go in the car.

The campsite boasts a lovely pond which is home to some of the biggest carp I have ever seen. One of my favourite things to do is to feed the fish, they know you're approaching as soon as you step onto the jetty, and by the time you've reached the end they are working themselves into a frenzy. Their mouths are so large, the food is vacumed up in seconds.

I am originally from Kent but don't know the area well, and anywhere I thought I remembered has changed so much anyway. I did revisit Dungerness, and even though there is a pair of nuclear power stations there, it is a very quaint and original place. Dungerness used to be a thriving fishing community, the fishermen lived in little wooden shacks from where they would sell the daily catch. The place has changed but some of the shacks are still there. The area appears to be a popular place for artists and "crafty" people.

Dungerness is a very picturesque place and has a wonderful "feel" about it.

Philip, Zak and I had wanted to travel on the RHD light railway, I love the smell of steam trains. Unfortunately we missed the train and took the car instead.

Philip excelled himself with his camp cooking. He roasted a chicken in the cobb cooker, made pancakes for breakfast and stirfried pork and peppers in black bean sauce over an open fire.

Whilst strolling along the harbour in Rye, Philip and I fell in love....with a beautiful canadian canoe. Philip stood talking to the boat builder while I ran my hands along the sleek lines of the sublime vessel. Oh yes ..yes.. YES!!!! sorry I forgot where I was.

Philip has asked me to try and control my excitement over baby animals when he is driving. I saw this adorable Shetland foal and frightened the life out of him with my joyful cries, it must have been loud because I did feel a little horse!

Eggs, chips and beans

2010-06-18T08:18:00.000-07:00

247..248..249..250!!!!! We did it! We planted 250 potato sets in, possibly the most inhospitable piece of ground in County Durham!

If you have been following my blog you will know that Philip and I have worked very,very hard on preparing the ground on our allotment for planting. We have been totally amazed at the amount of bricks and other debris we've dug up over the last week, and every day we believed there simply could not be any more bricks in the plot. And every day we have excavated more, in fact we could build a shed from them. Nonetheless the spuds are in and will hopefully break up the earth for us and make the next digging over much easier.

After all our hard graft we both felt a little jaded to say the least. We needed a break. We decided to take a week away in the open. A week under canvas was just what the doctor ordered.

On returning home, we couldn't wait to go to the allotment, and lo and behold we have potatoes growing. It is so satisfying to see the first green leaves of potato plants just peeping out of the earth. Spurred on by this we have now planted four varieties of bean and some mange touts. Next to go in will be carrots and beetroot. I know we are planting late in the season but we are hoping for some success.

I cannot wait to get the allotment fenced off so that we can build the coupe and buy some hens. Most of our fellow allotment holders keep chickens and some have given us eggs from them, what a difference in taste!

We may end up being self sufficient some day. Ah the Good Life.

Making beds and raking it in.

2010-06-02T12:52:00.000-07:00

So, we had the weekend off from the allotment, but today we hired a rotavator and got stuck in. You won't believe the difference it has made. We had an early start ( well early for us) and have managed to clear a sizable chunk of land for planting.

Unbelievably we unearthed yet more rusty metal and I really think there was an entire village buried there! So many bricks!

Having the allotment is a very social thing, every time we are there we have visits from fellow growers. We have been given lots of things to help us on our way and so much advice. Actually I think we are considered to be quite mad for taking on the plot. They are probably taking odds on how long it will be before we throw up our hands in defeat. Hear this fellow growers..... I will not be beaten!

So, ever the optimists, we have purchased 250 seed potatoes and will be planting them tomorrow. Apparently they will break up the soil and push up the weeds and rubbish from beneath. All hail the common spud!

Another job for tomorrow is to order a load of manure. Now you may find this strange but I am really looking forward to shovelling shit. Apologies for the language but it just doesn't have the same ring if I say shovelling manure.

We have both caught the sun, perhaps a little too much but there you go. I am so looking forward to tomorrow. Lets hope for more sun, but I must remember the sun tan lotion.

Reap what you sow

2010-05-30T09:14:00.000-07:00

We recently got ourselves an allotment. I was so excited, i have always wanted to grow my own food. When we started to work our plot we discovered endless pieces of rusty metal and enough bricks to build a house! Maybe that is what the previous gardener was hoping for. Perhaps he thought if he planted the raw materials he might harvest a new build!

The plot actually resembles a building site more than a garden. We have started work on digging over and clearing but I wonder if we have taken on a project that is too big for us. I am not one who gives up on things easily and I am determined to give it a good go. I have worked really hard already and the thought of someone else coming in and reaping the benefits of my labour does not appeal to me.

I think we will have to call in the big guns and hire some machinery to get the place into any sort of shape for planting. I've never used a rotavator but I am looking forward to the experience.

We have already started to plan our crop layout for next year. I would love to become self sufficient and live off the land. This might age me but I always wanted to be Barbara Good from "The Good Life" We even plan to make wine at some time in the future and definately have a few hens.

And I can get fit and tone up whilst working on the allotment. Who needs to spend a fortune on Gym membership!

Watch this space!

2010-05-17T13:37:00.000-07:00

Yesterday I was doing the dishes and gazing out the kitchen window, when I noticed a man walking with a dog. Nothing unusual there. But what breed of dog was it? I looked harder as he approached. Suddenly I got a clear vision of the "dog"...... it was in fact, not a dog but a tiny Shetland pony! I could not resist, I rushed out and cried to the poor unsuspecting man "Can I stroke him?" Bless the man , he stopped and allowed this crazy lady to fuss his little pony. I bombarded him with questions...."what kind of pony is he?" "How old is he?" "where do you keep him?" "Is he hard to care for?" He patiently answered all my questions before making his escape. He probably thought I was mad, but I cannot express the pure joy that the experience afforded me.

Of course, now, I really want one!

Wedding plans

2010-05-08T05:18:00.000-07:00

The wee folks wedding is nearing
I think I need a new hat
Gary's been tending the garden
and watching out for that cat!

The invites are being posted
The fairy cakes almost cooked
The flowers have been ordered
and the honeymoon has been booked

The fairy princess is nervous
The garden gnome full of joy
When he looks at his beautiful fairy
He knows he's a lucky boy

The toadstools are being positioned
In neat little rows all around
But for me to see things clearly
I'll have to lie on the ground

And so I look forward with pleasure
And hope to see you all there
A wonderful, magical moment
One I can't wait to share.

These are a few of my favourite things

2010-05-08T04:48:00.001-07:00

The warmth of the sun on my face
The sound of birds in the spring
To see my little dog playing
A few of my favourite things

Hearing the laugh of a loved one
What happiness that can bring
Time spent with friends and family
A few of my favourite things

"J" walking

2010-04-22T08:10:00.000-07:00

Last week I reached the age of fifty, yes 50! The half century! I am a middle aged woman, a woman of a certain age. Am I bothered? Absolutely not!

My 50th birthday was the perfect excuse to invite lots of people who mean very much to me to gather together and help me celebrate. I decided on a fancy dress party themed "J". The first reaction from friends and family was "why "J"? Becauase J is the first letter of my name, the next was "What on earth can I come as that starts with "J"?" Well it certainly got us all thinking.

On the night I was visited by an array of famous names includung John Bon Jovi, Jackie Onasis and Julius Ceasar. I was honoured to meet for the first time a Canadian lumberjack turned ice hockey star and the lovely Jordan - in duplicate!

I was blown away by the distance friends and family travelled to help me celebrate., and humbled by the huge challenge overcome by two people in particular. I only hope they know just how much it means to me.

I consider myself truly blessed in having such wonderful people in my life. My partner worked so hard to make my party fun and he made me a fantastic birthday cake with 50 candles.

I am a very,very lucky girl!

2009-10-31T10:46:00.000-07:00

Ellie meet your Grandad.

When speaking to my niece the other day, I felt quite sad when she said she doesn't remember her Grandad, my dad. She asked me to write a blog about him. So Ellie, I hope this will help you to get know your Grandad, albeit posthumously.

My father, Brian Neville Young was two people to me. One before his stroke and one after. The first memories I have of Dad are when I was very young, I would wait for him to walk up the road when he had finished work and I would run to meet him, he would swing me up and carry me home. I was a Daddy's girl. Mum says that as I got a bit older they used to call me "The news of the World" because by the time Dad got into the house he knew everything that had happened at home that day!

Dad worked for British Rail, as a guard on the trains. My older sister, brother and I liked to travel on the train in the guards van with Dad. We would watch him wave his green flag to tell the driver all the passengers were on and it was safe for the train to pull out of the station.
As a British Rail employee Dad was a member of the railway social club and we would go, on the train, to Faversham for a night out. At Christmas there was always a big party at the club and we had a lovely tea and a present from Santa.

In the summer the club would organise a day out and the dads would play cricket and we kids played in the paddling pools. Dad always enjoyed this family time.I remember my Dad baking bread. Every now and then we would wake on a Sunday morning to the wonderful aroma of freshly baking bread. One year Dad made Hot Cross buns, they were the size of dinner plates and tasted delicious. I don't know where Dad learned his baking skills, perhaps his mother, my Nan. She was always baking. Although as a Northern family I wouldn't have thought the menfolk were encouraged to cook, surely that would have been considered "women's work"!

I think I must have been about 9 or 10 years old, when Dad decided that he would get rid of the coal fires in the house. He bricked up the grates and then decided to climb up on top of the roof to take the chimneys down. Well, I am sure there are safer ways of removing chimneys! I recall Dad hanging on to the chimney whilst hitting it with a huge sledgehammer. My mother was terrified as she watched from below. Luckily it was only the chimney that came down and not Dad.

Family holidays were usually taken in Devon and Cornwall. Dad didn't drive and the train journey made going on holiday more exciting. You might think we would have been blase about train travel, but I, for one loved it. When we arrived at our destination we would take a huge black taxi to the caravan site. Just about every holiday Dad would bury us kids in the sand, right up to the neck! or build a rowboat in the sand. I am not sure who had the most fun, the children or the parent. Dad was a child at heart.

Every Saturday we used to go shopping in town, and every Saturday Dad stopped off at the local bookmaker to place his bets. Saturday afternoon you couldn't get a word out of Dad except the "Go on boy, go on!" as his horse approached the winning post. When we were a bit older Dad would always ask us to pick a horse on Grand National day. I felt very grown up.

Mum and Dad gave some wonderful parties. I can still hear the neighbours joyful, if a little intoxicated singing as Dad mixed their drinks slightly stronger than he should have. Dad's favourite line was when he asked my mother, who's name is Iris if she would like a drink. He never failed to get a laugh when he told her "Pass your glass I". It still makes me smile even now as I write.

I remember Dad as easy going, he seemed to be content with his lot. Yes he could lose his temper, he was human. And one thing I know which had a profound effect on me was the way he called me "Thick" or "stupid". He never meant it literally, I'm sure, it was just a throw away remark when I did something wrong. But I grew up believing I was, in fact thick and stupid.

These are some of my childhood memories of my Dad. I could go on but I will stop at this point. I will write about my grown up memories in another blog. I will finish this one by saying, I loved my Dad and I still miss him.

Eagle eyed? Not!

2009-10-31T04:52:00.000-07:00

When I came downstairs to the kitchen this morning the sun was big and bright yellow, casting a warm glow over fallen leaves in shades of Autumnal golds and oranges. I opened the back door to let Zak (our scruffy but adorable mutt) out and noticed the birds on the roof of the house opposite. Nothing unusual about that, I hear you say. Well no. Except that the birds in question are in fact Peacocks!

Surprised? I'm not. This is a common sight here. Until we moved here I thought peacocks lived on farms or in parks. But we have five peacocks that wonder down our road on an almost daily basis. Well actually one peacock, one peahen and three immature males. I am not sure what a young peacock is called, probably just a chick.

Many of our neighbours feed these majestic, rather pompous looking creatures. In fact the mature cock has a name. George, which I think is fitting as he is rather regal.

Another bird we were excited to see when we moved into our house, was an eagle owl. Yes, an eagle owl, perched on a telegraph pole just yards from our kitchen window. Philip and I were amazed and rushed for the binoculars. We focused on the bird and were watching it for at least ten minutes before we realised.... it is made of plastic! The owl is supposed to be a deterrent to other birds. The telephone company perched him there because the starlings were causing problems on the wires. Oh boy! did we feel silly! Still, we laughed and when we tell our family and friends the story they laugh too, at us probably.

A loving spoonful

2009-10-30T11:41:00.000-07:00

Our kitchen is a hive of cottage industry! The understairs cupboard is filled with jars of home pickled onions. On top of the fridge is a huge bowl of home made mincemeat, from which I take much pleasure in stirring every time I pass. Their is a huge pan bubbling on the cooker, filling the air with wonderful aromas, apple, onion and vinegar. My eyes are stinging and my throat is sore.

But I love it!

We really are doing well with our Christmas gifts. Anyone who recieves a gift from Philip and myself should know that much love was put into the making of it and much fun and satisfaction was taken from it. I only hope that each and every recipient will enjoy eating or using their gifts as much as we have enjoyed making it.

I am trying out so many new crafts this year, I only hope I am capable delivering the goods. I wonder if Santa Clause and his helpers have as much fun whilst making their gifts! I think our job is easier though because we are giving what we think our loved ones will enjoy. Santa has to make his gifts to order.

Appologies for writing about the festive season so early. In the past I have not even wanted to hear the word "Christmas" till Decmber is upon us, but this year I am happily making plans, writing lists and making gifts. Although when it comes to my two grown up sons I have to admit I am completely stumped. Oh well I have got time to come up with the perfect gift.

2009-10-30T04:31:00.000-07:00

Beautiful baby. I longed for you, ached for you.

I loved you from the minute I knew you were growing inside me. I didn't yet know who you were but you were my baby.

When you were born I was overwhelmed with love and wonder, and a deep, deep desire to protect you. No-one was meant to hurt you my child.

I failed, as every parent is bound to fail. We cannot keep you from sorrow or pain how ever hard we try.

You have been my life - my joy - my reason for living.

You are grown now my son. And it is I who has hurt you most. This was not my intention and it cuts me to the core to know that I have lost you.

Getting Pickled!

2009-10-29T05:13:00.000-07:00

This morning I have achieved another first. No, I haven't walked on the moon or discovered a cure for the common cold. But I have pickled my first onions, well Philip and I did them. Philip is a pickling veteran but this is my maiden voyage in the world of pickling. The house smells of vinegar and onions and so do my hands.

It may seem silly to some , but I have a wonderful sense of achievement and pleasure from my morning's work. I am easily pleased.

What makes this all the more pleasurable is that our pickles will be given as gifts at Christmas (sorry I know it is very early to be thinking about Boxing day Eve.)

Usually I refuse to even think about the festive season untill December is upon us, but this year I am excited already and it's still October. We have decided to hand make all the gifts we will give to our friends and family. I have always wanted to do this and we have some great ideas. What I like about this kind of giving is that each gift will be personalised to the friend or family member. Which means we spend a lot of time thinking about each of our loved ones and their interests or personality. It's fun and reinforces my appreciation of them all. I am blessed with great friends and a wonderful family.

Wasted day? Oh no.

2009-10-27T11:07:00.000-07:00

"What a wasted day!" I thought to myself as I realised that I had sat at my computer all day. I had so many plans for today. I was going to start peeling and soaking the pickling onions. They are still sitting in their skins.

I was going to write a christmas present list. I know it's still two months away, but i am making all my gifts this year. The paper is still blank.

I was going to research recipes for pickles and preserves and write a list of ingredients I need. I still don't know what I need.

And I was going to sort through my card making things to see what I need to make christmas (sorry, there it is again) cards. Needless to say I didn't do it!

I have completely wasted a whole day!

But wait just a minute..... I have chatted with at least half a dozen friends and family members through facebook and messenger, how is that wasting time? If it wasn't for my PC I wouldn't keep in touch as much as I do. Yes, there is the telephone, but it costs money and is not always convenient. I know typing messages is not the same as hearing a loved one's voice, but today I got to see instant pictures of my friend's little baby girl. And had a chat with my much loved niece in Spain.
My nieces and nephew's are spread out all over the length of the Country ( and Spain) and untill I had Facebook I didn't speak to or hear from them from one yaer to the next, now I chat to them regularly and keep up to date with what is going on in their lives. I have got to know them. So, no, I have not wasted the day. I have spent some valuable time catching up with much loved family members and friends. What could be more important?

2009-10-21T11:52:00.000-07:00

Supermarkets... yes they are convenient in as much as you can park right outside and you can buy everything under one roof. But I long for the return of local shops, the high street butcher, greengrocer and fishmonger. I remember as a child being taken shopping and yes, it took longer to get the weekly provisions but in every establishment we were given a friendly greeting and a smile. My mother would stop and chat whilst being served and it was a pleasant experience. These days it seems to be all about time. Rush round the supermarket no time to stop and pass the time of day.

The butcher, the baker, or the candlestick maker knew his stuff and was always at hand with advice on the best cut of meat and how to cook it, the right size loaf or the longest burning candles. Now days the supermarket staff are not usually experts in any one field and, as hard as they might try, cannot be expected to know all the answers.

Forgive my half baked ramblings, I am becoming a grumpy old woman. I must use my loaf and remember that this is progress, apparently.

2009-10-19T09:34:00.000-07:00

As a woman of a certain age I find my memory lets me down more and more each day. I frequently find the washing up liquid in the fridge or the milk in the cleaning cupboard!!! I often forget names of people I see quite regularly. But isn't it strange how I can recall the names of classmates from 45 years ago and relive, in graphic detail, some of the things we used to get up to?
I recently found an old primary school friend through Friends Reunited. I started school with Lynn at the very tender age of four and a half and went through primary, junior and grammar schools with her. We were not always star pupils but we had some fun! Reminiscing about our childhood makes me smile and indeed laugh aloud at times. The memories come flooding back in technicolour. Name after name pops into my head and I can see the faces so clearly. I am that little girl again.

So why is it that my short term memory is so bad at times but childhood memories so clear? Alas, i think I know the answer... AGE. It gets us all in the end. But I for one will not give in without a fight! I intend to grow old disgracefully, kicking and fighting all the way. I may lose my teeth, my hair and my faculties but I will not lose my love of life, my free spirit nor my childlike ways.
I was Young in name when born and I am Young at heart still and always will be.

Now what was I saying? What was who saying? Where am I?

2009-10-18T05:03:00.000-07:00

Up till about two years ago I cared little if I lived or died, in fact at times I wanted to die so badly. Well more "not to live" is a more accurate disription of my feelings. Living was such a huge effort,. I was so tired that even the simplest tasks were too much. Some days I didn't have the energy to get out of bed.

What a selfish, ungrateful person I was.I knew this but that just made me feel worse. I was married to a sucessful man, I had two gorgeous sons, a lovely house in the most stunning countryside. I had holidays abroad and great friends. Yet I was In the depths of depression. I wanted out.

Now I am so thankful that I am alive. I did get out, but not out of life, just out of THAT life. Now I have a new life with a new partner in a new place. I am a new me. No, I am the real me. After years of trying to be what or who everyone else wanted me to be, I finally realised i could not be happy until I allowed myself to be me.

It is only now that I accept me for who or what I am that I can live my life fully. I don't spend a lot of time worrying about what others think of me. In fact I don't spend an awful lot of time thinking about me at all, except to delight in the way I am part of this big, beautiful world.

It is a spectacular Autumn day, resplendent in warm, rich colour and texture and I am so happy to be alive!!!

2009-10-16T05:18:00.000-07:00

If you go down to the woods today you'll never believe your eyes.

WOW! I never knew there were so many types of mushroom growing in our woods. I certainly didn't know that there were big red mushrooms with white spots like the one in my photograph. I thought that mushrooms like this were things of fairy tales, where fairies and gnomes sit.

But I found this flyagaric mushroom very close to our home in Durham and I just had to have a picture.

I have recently entered into a new relationship with a man who is quite knowledgeable about all things wild. My very own Hugh Fernley Whittingstall. We often walk in the countryside and through woodland in search of wild mushrooms. I have a childlike fascination in nature which, until now has not been fed. We have picked and dried many different varieties of fungi and I am amazed at how different each one tastes. We are very careful in identifying each one and only eat the ones which are very obviously edible.

On our walks we have picked big juicy blackberries, cobnuts, apples, wood sorell and mushrooms. It is wonderful to forage for food and bring it home to cook, so fresh and tasty. Wild blackberry pancakes for breakfast..... YUM.

Natalie Rose

2009-10-16T04:32:00.000-07:00

Next month, November will be the anniversary of the birth of my beautiful baby girl. Natalie Rose would be 28 years old on 25th of November 2009.

When i was a child people would ask me "what do you want to be when you grow up?" my answer would come with no hesitation " a mummy" It's true, right from a very early age I wanted to grow up and have children of my own. You might say that I was not a very ambitious child, but that was my ambition.

I was a fairly bright child and did well in school, until, that is I passed my eleven plus and was sent to Grammar school. I did not want to go, and I hated it there. I got out as soon as I could.

At 19 I married and after two years of desperately trying for a baby I fell pregnant. I was over the moon. Right from the moment I knew I was pregnant I was totally in love with my baby. I didn't yet know this tiny miracle of life growing inside me, but I would have killed for it.

On Wednesday 25th November my little girl was delivered. She was so utterly adorable. After 48 hours I was allowed to take her home. Natalie was my world. My husband went back to work after a week and I spent every minute with my little girl.

In March 1982, my husband's work took him away to Scotland and Natalie and I went to stay with my parents in Surrey, mum and dad loved having their grand daughter there. My husband drove through the night to get back early on the Friday.

The next morning, Saturday 6th March 1982 we were going shopping for a birthday present for Natalie's other grandma, my parents in law were looking forward to seeing Natalie.

Natalie was crying in the back of the car, then she went quiet and we assumed the engine noise and motion of the car had lulled her to sleep. On arriving at the shopping centre, I picked my baby up from her carry cot. Something was not right. Natalie did not stir. I turned her round to face me and saw, to my horror that her lips were blue. In a panic I pushed my baby girl into my husband's arms and screamed at him to take her somewhere for help. He ran, I threw the buggy back into the car then chased off after him. I did not know where he had gone! I rushed to the first aid post, they weren't there. I rushed into Boots the chemist. A lady from the pharmacy was holding my baby and trying to breathe into her tiny little mouth.

An ambulance came, those wonderful medics chased through the shopping centre and we followed blindly. With blue light flashing and sirens wailing we were taken to the hospital where we were told that everything possible had been done but our baby was dead.

The next days were a blur. In fact the next year was a blur for me. And 28 years later, as I write this I still feel the pain and fear that I felt on that day. I don't know how I survived this but I have. I have 2 wonderful sons now but no-one could ever replace my little girl.

Natalie lived for just 16 weeks. 16 weeks is not long but those 16 weeks are the most precious weeks of my life. I am thankful to have had my beautiful little girl and i can recall such sweet memories of her. She gives me strength.

The Home Counties

2009-09-05T02:37:00.000-07:00

So, it's been a while since my last blog. One reason for this is that I have not been at home much recently. I have been 'camping' it up in different parts of the country. I have been 'under cover' in Kent, and loitering with in'tent' in Leek.

Having lived half my life down South I thought I knew the area. My view of Kent was tainted by my experience of the small part of the County where I had grown up. I have to say I was pleasantly surprised to find that there is more to it.

I recently visited Tenterden which is very close to the Sussex boarder, I don't recall ever having been there before. The countryside is spectacular, the natives are friendly and, best of all the climate is much more agreeable.

After a really great week in Tenterden, where I must add, I enjoyed the freedom of a naturist beach for the very first time! we moved on to Staffordshire. Whilst there, we did some monkeying around at Monkey Forest in Trentham. If you ever get the chance to go, take it. It is a real privilege to walk among these fascinating little creatures whilst they carry on with the business of life. We saw tiny infant macaques clinging to their mothers and juveniles at play in the trees. I know I leave myself open to comment here, but I felt so at home with these wonderful animals.

intents pleasure

2009-08-13T09:17:00.000-07:00

It has been a while since my last blog and the reason for that is life seems to have been a little hectic lately.

A couple of weeks ago we visited Stoke on Trent to sort out a few things.

We actually camped in Leek, the queen of the moorlands. The site was not much more than a field and we were the only campers for the first few days. I loved it. The tent, the field, the company and the rain!

Although I fear my body is getting a little too old to be crawling around in a tent now days.

Whilst in Stoke we were able to spend time with friends, which always makes me happy. Alas, since returning home I have neglected to keep in touch with these friends. Life has been hectic over the past week.

Today is the first time i have had chance to sit at the pc.

2009-07-26T05:14:00.000-07:00

"Life is like a box of chocolates" according to Mrs. Gump, and i have to say i do share her sentiment. I love chocolate and delving into a big box of Dairy Milk or Thortons is an adventure for me. Most chocolate assortments do contain a thing to show you just what delights are at the centre of each little sweetie: but do we always want to know what we are getting before we bite? Not me. I have not always had the courage to "suck it and see" but in recent times i find life and chocolates much more interesting when i do just that. How will i know if i like something if i don't try it? Ok, if i had a nut allergy i would check before i ate, i don't believe in deliberate foolhardiness.

My life has changed dramatically in the last few months, and it hasn't all been a bed of roses. There have been some major upheavals and some pretty traumatic events. Sometimes i have been stressed to the point of distraction. There have been tears, raised voices, long stoney silences and utter frustration. These are the hard toffee centres, the soft, sickly stawberry creams in the box. I could make a note of what these chocolates look like so that next time i can avoid them. But where is the fun, the adventure in that?

Also over these last months, i have experienced happiness, laughter, excitement and love beyond anything i have known before. These are my hazlenut whirls, my coffee creams and turkish delights. I could eat just these centres i like so much, but without the over sweet, the too hard toffee and the bitter dark chocolate the box would be in complete, false and contrived. Life is not meant to be like that.

I am learning so much by trying things, and yes, sometimes i don't like what i get, but how will i know if i don't try? Life is an adventure and i am enjoying being part of it. I learn new things every day, about other people, about the world and about myself.

Viva la vida loco!!!!!!