Monthly Archives: October 2013

Smells

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Smells are very important to me.  A nice smell can make a smile!

I am sure my heart flips when I smell baby powder as it brings back the memories of those gorgeous little toes and the gappy smiles of my 3 children.

Lavender reminds me of two wonderful ladies who are sadly no longer here.  My father’s mother was at home in the garden in Rowington wearing a quilted jacket stuffed full of mints incase a horse escaped and she needed to catch it!  My mother’s mother was a girl about town who used to change for supper.  Those were the days!  Both of them had a bowl of lavender and would squidge the fading blue as they wafted into a room – smelling of mint, baby powder and Ellnet!
 
These two very strong ladies inspire still.  I am useless at flower arranging yet spent hours watching Granny arrange the church flowers in Bath, I was too impatient to knit anything other than a square cotton dishcloth yet used to sit for hours watching Granny P-G embroider.
 
Roses are another favourite smell, my mother used to have a beautiful picture of a rose in a battered old frame outside my bedroom in my childhood home.
 
I will be bringing you exciting news on Wednesday.  I am rather excited!
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Ummmm, I’m out of sorts

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On World Mental Health Day I checked Twitter to see what was happening in the world.  At the top of my timeline was a Tweet from the lovely @Karamina and I read the link, I walked to the computer, switched on the screen and sent her a message which said “you’ve given me strength to blog mine”.

(Now, I do realise that I should have blogged on World Mental Health Day but the day ran away from me and I thought I would leave it for another year, but then I decided not to leave it for another year.  Why should I wait for another year when it’s not just World Mental Health Day that I feel wobbly or over emotional or downright bloody desperately miserable?)

If you know me you will have read the words below, but if not then I will give you some background.

I’m 44, a mother of 3, my husband works hard and can’t bear it when I ask him a computer related question. I organise events, find gift solutions and generally just chat to everyone – some call it networking but it doesn’t seem like work to me!

There are times in my life when it all becomes too much, when simple things really aren’t that simple; when the camel’s back is broken by straws; when a comment is taken out of context and then IT happens.  Well this is how IT happens for me.

I acknowledge a great big fat and ugly unwelcome guest into my life and this unwelcome guests takes charge of my emotions and I am so weakened that I let this unwelcome guest take over and before I know it I am crying at everything, I am emotional, I am tired, I am weak and I am angry.

However, I am also strong and my strength resents the impact the unwelcome guest has on my life and with this knowledge I do what is often the hardest thing to do and I say to myself quietly at first, then out loud, then to whoever might be listening “I am stressed and anxious” and before I know it I have put my hand up and said to the one person who will listen to me and not judge “hello, I’m sort of, ummm, feeling a little down, a little anxious, I’m not sleeping and I wake up and I panic and I’m anxious” and my Dr says “oh dear, how long have you been feeling like that?”.

I was struggling a month or so ago, crikey I can’t even think what set me off but suddenly everything was bothering me and I was at my low again.

Waking up one night – again I decided to share how I was really feeling with my FB friends.  This is what I wrote:-

I go to sleep, I wake up, I go to sleep, I wake up, I panic about going back to sleep, I go to sleep and the alarm clock goes off and I panic.

Then it’s the day with nothing that huge to be anxious about in the grand scheme of things.

Meanwhile I’m anxious about I don’t know what.  I think, wonder and worry about everything like did I really check I’ve locked the doors, did I draw the curtains, did I forget anything and panic that the dog can’t eat anything.

I watch the clock and hope the children get out on time.

I want to be at home, but it’s not perfectly tidy and I’ve not got the strength to suggest anyone god forbid could put anything away.

The discussion about food, the angst at what food is currently favourite because it always changes and I was told 3 weeks ago that they hated what they like now and vice versa.

Oh and they want to choose the plate colour but it’s not fair.

Thoughts then turn to relaxation and bedtime but there’s a drama about a book out of place and a spelling not done and the printer isn’t working and the need to be in school earlier because of something so important that it’s only just been spoken off.

Then the hush.

The sound of the motorway distant in the dark.

The soundless sounds of clearing the debris and detritus from the mind of the day.

Sleep follows.

I go to sleep, I wake up, I’ve forgotten something.

There’s 3 gorgeous things I won’t forget.

They’re loud, they’re constant and they’re changing.

They’re asleep. Safe. Loved. Loved, as in always being loved and always will be loved.

I go to sleep, I wake up.

Like a circle in a spiral like a wheel within a wheel.

 

Admitting IT is the hardest thing to do. I have admitted it, will you?

 

It amused me!

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Well, 2 amusing things happened at the Drs yesterday, well at the pharmacy to be precise.

Pharmacy assistant looked at my prescription and said “oh I love the name Rosemary”, to which I said “well I hate it, do I look like a Rosemary?” She said “no but I do love the name!”.

Then the Pharmacist said “take 2 of these (HUGE massive elephant sized antibiotics) an hour before food or on an empty stomach” …. to which I replied “do I look like I ever have an empty stomach or am ever an hour away from food?”.

Friends and power ballads

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Recently Charch, a friend from school, posted on Facebook that she had a tumour, was back in the UK and living with her mum.  I looked at her status for a while and then replied “what on earth” or words to that effect.  I kept getting alerts to say people had replied and it was lovely to see some names of friends I see or hear from regularly, keep in touch with only on Facebook or friends I have not heard from in ages.

Shortly after reading Charch’s status the emails started to flow as we made plans to go and see her in Cardiff, there was a thread on FB where everyone chipped in with some ideas for visiting options, items we could take and suggestions of people to contact.

I’d not seen Charch for a number of years, but it didn’t matter we’d kept in touch through email, letters, sometimes Facebook, others had seen her and reported back, she always wrote a long letter at Christmas with a paragraph or 2 in her distinctive writing.

The writing that had not changed since I first met her at boarding school back in the (cough) early 80s.  That’s how long I’ve known her.  That’s how long I’ve known a lot of my friends and they are known as school friends which doesn’t give them a more specific title than that.  Those 40 or so girls I lived with through the 80s have a bond so strong and it shows right now.

I can appreciate that for some their school days weren’t their most favourite time but for me I had a riot of a time and I’m still surrounded by my friends who have forgiven me for my big hair, my teenage angst and my dodgy dress sense.

These words from a power ballad of the 80s are perfect for what I really want to say ….

“when the chips are down I’ll be around with my undying,
death defying love for you”