Fun, Feisty & Fabulous...

an enigmatic state!?

2012-02-26T08:08:00.000Z

Happiness. Contentment. Joy. Pleasure. These are words we throw around, but I wonder if rarely do we really think about them and mean them? Understand them? Feel them. Is it a matter of subjectivity or perspective. In part I think yes, but I also believe in general terms the measure is the same yardstick of feeling. Of emotion.

Moannie and I were recently talking about the value of these words. Of how we of course aspire and hope. To feel them. The real deal.

We often innaely dribble out these words, about how happiness is all we want to feel. For ourselves. For our children. For mankind. Humanity. But it is such an elusive and transitory state . A state of mind that is transitory at best. Not available by request. It does not keep us alive. Though these states do nurture and nourish us. Keep us on track. A carrot to keep us on the road of hope.

I do not believe that happiness is a state of mind. I believe that happiness is a momentary state. More slippery than many its contemporaries. Mithering about the lack of happiness in our lives, like feeling regretful is not purposeful nor is it aspirational. It cannot be brought about by desire. It just happens. It is the purist of emotions. An undiluted mix of pleasure & joy.

Contentment is a state of mind, for me. Attainable. Brick by brick we can build ourselves a warm blanket of contentment, safety and security. It is personal. A matter of perspective.

Joy is an emotion we can experience by recall. Of memory. Sparked by music, a song, a letter, a moment past. We can relive. By choice. At our own request.

Pleasure is immediate. Pleasure is Food. Art. Books. Physical. Family. Sex. Breathing life. Different pleasures for us all. Pleasure can be cultivated. Seeded. Ploughed and harvested. Replanted. Bought or home grown. Borrowed. Bought. Given away.

A droplet of contentment, a rash of happiness, a storm of joy, a blanket of good fortune or a flush of pleasure.

I wonder which state do you yearn for?

Moment by moment...

sweet smell of success

2012-02-14T01:53:00.000Z

l shouldn't have worried really,

on the back of a week of hell

no one could blame me for being a miss doubting thomas

but the proof was in the pudding

and lemon drizzle cakes

and cream scones

and buttered tea bread..

and 500 happy visitors..!!!
VERY VINTAGE AFFAIRS

'Karina Hesketh'

handmade designer bags....sigh!

'Just my cup of tea'

very 'Coolcrafting' with Sarah

Carol's mouthful and table full of treasures.

and l want both of these...

Nikki's vintage gems

the incorrigible Fran & Juliet

Stuart (the spiv ) Bruce- Gormley

co-founder and my partner in Vintage crime

Rachel & Jo-anne, who pop-up with their Vintage Tea room across the county

unbeatable cakes a mile high!

' Just the Biscuit'

all manner of kitchenelia

my own stall

'Bag Diva'

...bags of vintage style..

sweet smell of success

2012-02-14T01:51:00.002Z

l shouldn't have worried really,

on the back of a week of hell

no one could blame me for being a miss doubting thomas

but the proof was in the pudding

and lemon drizzle cakes

and cream scones

and buttered tea bread..

and 500 happy visitors..!!!

'Karina Hesketh'

handmade designer bags....sigh!

'Just my cup of tea'

very 'Coolcrafting' with Sarah

Carol's mouthful and table full of treasures.

and l want both of these...

Nikki's vintage gems

the incorrigible Fran & Juliet

Stuart (the spiv ) Bruce- Gormley

co-founder and my partner in Vintage crime

Rachel & Jo-anne, who pop-up with their Vintage Tea room across the county

unbeatable cakes a mile high!

' Just the Biscuit'

all manner of kitchenelia

my own stall

'Bag Diva'

...bags of vintage style..

sweet smell of success

2012-02-14T01:51:00.000Z

l shouldn't have worried really,

on the back of a week of hell

no one could blame me for being a miss doubting thomas

but the proof was in the pudding

and lemon drizzle cakes

and cream scones

and buttered tea bread..

and 500 happy visitors..!!!

'Karina Hesketh'

handmade designer bags....sigh!

'Just my cup of tea'

very 'Coolcrafting' with Sarah

Carol's mouthful and table full of treasures.

and l want both of these...

Nikki's vintage gems

the incorrigible Fran & Juliet

Stuart (the spiv ) Bruce- Gormley

co-founder and my partner in Vintage crime

Rachel & Jo-anne, who pop-up with their Vintage Tea room across the county

unbeatable cakes a mile high!

' Just the Biscuit'

all manner of kitchenelia

my own stall

'Bag Diva'

...bags of vintage style..

sweet smell of success

2012-02-14T01:49:00.000Z

l shouldn't have worried really,

on the back of a week of hell

no one could blame me for being a miss doubting thomas

but the proof was in the pudding

and lemon drizzle cakes

and cream scones

and buttered tea bread..

and 500 happy visitors..!!!

'Karina Hesketh'

handmade designer bags....sigh!

'Just my cup of tea'

very 'Coolcrafting' with Sarah

Carol's mouthful and table full of treasures.

and l want both of these...

Nikki's vintage gems

the incorrigible Fran & Juliet

Stuart (the spiv ) Bruce- Gormley

co-founder and my partner in Vintage crime

Rachel & Jo-anne, who pop-up with their Vintage Tea room across the county

unbeatable cakes a mile high!

' Just the Biscuit'

all manner of kitchenelia

my own stall

'Bag Diva'

...bags of vintage style..

sweet smell of success

2012-02-14T01:41:00.000Z

l shouldn't have worried really,
on the back of a week of hell
no one could blame me for being a miss doubting thomas

but the proof was in the pudding
and lemon drizzle cakes

and cream scones

and buttered tea bread

' Just the Biscuit'

all manner of kitchenelia

my own stall

'Bag Diva'

...bags of vintage style..

new venture

2012-02-04T18:33:00.000Z

on the back of my former Vintage website

I have recently morphed and started to build an old interest and hobby

into a fledgling business,

BAG DiVA

selling my handbag collection at fairs in the County

as there is nothing in our part of the county

I taken the bull by the proverbials and

organised Fairs in Carlisle, bi-monthly over 2012

with Stuart, a local fellow Vintage enthusiast and dealer...

introducing Very Vintage Affairs

rather self explanatory...

been 6 months in the planning

and next Saturday is our toe in the water first affair

will post pics of the event ..

wish you all could come...

Saz x

A Fell and a Fall

2012-01-30T19:25:00.001Z

A couple of weekends ago a friend from work asked me join him on a 'gentle' walk on the Fells. I've lived in Cumbria since 1996 and often wanted to go fell walking, but it never happened for one reason or another and l'm not the type to take myself off alone. After all l've always been told l'm clumsy, awkward, uncoordinated and have a hopeless sense of direction.

This gentle walk started on a very steep incline, all rocky, and l felt l was scrambling on all fours more than l was hill bloody walking. If l had been alone l surely would've turned back if it hadn't looked so impossible steep downhill. But my fellow walker was very enthusiastic and supportive, especially over a very icy and slippery stream, and yes l did end up on my arse! Butt then so did he!

As we took a break for water and nibbles for the 12h time, boy was he right about my inadequate supplies of sustenance. I took two bananas and a snickers bar with me. he pulled a face and sent me shopping in the market for sandwiches which I obediently did, knowing full well I wouldnt eat them as I don't have much of an appetite these days. HOW WRONG WAS I! My body screamed out for water at every 50 metres and food every 100 metres (or yards in my imperial brain) and thanks for the large bar of Milka which I gnashed my way through on the way down.

Approaching the nub of rocks that formed the summit, I smiled and sighed stating I would wait here, as I hadn't another metre of ascent in me. Adrian told me I had to go up there as the only way down was on the other side.. Smart man!! Simple Sara! He lied.....how do l not know when l'm being lied to. I just swallow every work l'm told. Gullible or stupid! Duh!

I crawled with much noisy moaning to the top, okay summit...and stood in frozen sunlight, in total awe!!

Bessy Boot , Rosthwaite Fell, Borrowdale.

l'm sure you agree it was worth the nearly 6 hours of climb and descent. I wasn't clumsy apparently, nor moaning, if l were uncoordinated I would've made a cockup of the whole day....but l didn't.

It was great fun and very satisfying and I didnt ache all that much the next day, surprisingly!

However as smug as I was not having met with incident nor accident on the fells, I have to admit, that as I walked downstairs to the kitchen to make a cuppa tea, my phone went off and as I checked it, I missed the bottom step entirely.....and sprained my ankle, all puffed up and blue tinged, I limped for three days and its still tender.

What is the message here...?

2011 and all that..

2011-12-30T23:19:00.000Z

just reflecting some on the year that was....... and if I think clearly, which admittedly is a little difficult at this very end of the year, I actually have to confess it was in the most part good in fact I would even go so far as to say a large part of it was great, even special.

However, that best part of it, remains in my pocket, to reflect upon later when l am stronger.

My divorce in September was a huge milestone to reach, kinda crept up upon me as living through it and past it, my feeling was that it was a long time coming. Well yes in fact a longer time coming than just the legal aspects...years long overdue, and that is down to me too. I couldn't do it, even though I should have. I don't give up easily and until presented with a fait accomplis, a no choice scenario, l caved. It wasn't worth fighting for.

As Joni says, '..l look at life from both sides now, from win and lose, and still somehow its lifes illusions l recall...I really don't know love at all...''

Moving on....and the back end of the year has brought some major bumps; restructuring at work, with my job of 8 years ending and now an unattractive prospective position, I will be interviewed next week.

Time will tell, it always does. I am a fatalist and what is meant to be, will be.

I've not been lucky with my health this year, well with the bloody neck injury and now l am off work again with other issues, but it is allowing me to do all manner of soft activities and l am painting and writing again, which is great.

Of course the biggest bump in the road has been Mum / Moannie's sudden illness and diagnosis, coming to terms with this and managing the day to day isn't easy, but we are all managing under the circumstances. I visit as often as l am able and hope to again mid January.

My son will, results allowing, leave for University after the summer (god yes summer is on its way yay!!) and I will be so happy for him, a great big fat adventure. Then mine will begin perhaps it already has and l just can't see it.....

And so upon reflection, the year has taken a downturn, just as I had begun to believe again... but at least I believe now.

Even though 2012 may bring great sadness, a sadness I have never known, I believe and I hope...and somehow that is enough ...'cos it will see me and mine through....

and so yes to 2012 and all that....

Saz xx

rocking around the christmas tree...

2011-12-25T03:31:00.001Z

...am so not!

there has been a lot of 'rocky' but not in the dancin' sense and not in the Sly Stallone sense either...more like a rocky road, without the chocolate topping. I jest, but then one needs to joke or else heads will explode and who would clear up the mess!

It is Christmas day already and as per usual my eyes won't shut. Mind won't stop thinking. So in a minute l'll sup another cuppa camomile tea and lay in the dark counting virtual maltesers!

I've spent a quite and simple evening, in a candle lit room and by god did it get warm, l wouldn't have thought that candles give off that much heat but the Galileo thermometer even stopped working! My son and I watched 'It's a wonderful life', as is tradition on christmas eve in this house and of course I wept on cue.

I am looking forward to the morning, which is nearly here, as lordy it's already 3.20am. Santa has been and left overflowing stockings for the 'kids'. My son is with me till noon, then I drive him halfway to his Dad's, with a cold war meeting in a car park to exchange said son and deliver daughters pressies as I won't be seeing her this Christmas. A first and it certainly won't be the last. And it's her 20th birthday on tuesday and well I'll be thinking of her, after all they all fly the nest at some time don't they.

ah well, no pity party here...l may yet rock around the christmas tree...
the gin queens are talking about reuniting on new years eve......

and it's not over till the fat lady sings after all!

Happy Christmas to all and to all a good night

saz x

simple pleasures

2011-12-14T22:43:00.001Z

ahhh my new goosey quilt...heaven (uh well almost!)

icing the Christmas cake...now just have to wait till Christmas day for the first slice, why is that, what stops us from having a slice sooner?

the twinkling of the fairy lights draped over the mantelpiece and bookshelves...think l'll leave them there after Christmas they are lovely

making another list...and checking it twice

listening to christmas carols, whilst wrapping yet another 'last' impulse buy for under the tree

silent night, why does it make my eyes leak?

flickering candles out of the corner of my eye... on my bedside...a warm red comforting glow

the rustling of this new quilt whilst I type in bed...thankful for the company of its noise in the quiet

the sound of far away traffic through the slightly open window, gently reminding me there is something going on out there...

my son thumping down the stairs from his attic hideaway, from time to time, scavenging in the fridge for another bite to eat

long dark nights in, mooching about, long oily baths and gazing into the red hot fire...even though its artificial...dreaming l'll have a real one again some day

and soon....
the bins will be full of wrappings and left over food... a scattering of pine needles will be clinging for dear life hiding between the carpet and the skirting boards.. and the kids will go back to school and routine...

and we'll be gazing into springs beginnings...
not long now

Saz x

I feel....

2011-12-10T16:49:00.002Z

like I need to come home a while. ...I hope no one minds. I can't put my finger on it, but I have been drawn back here the last few weeks, quietly loitering. Perhaps its 'cos my new blog is now dedicated to updates about my Mama, and so I don't feel l should be writing about me and mine. So I have dusted it down and redecorated in a soothing tone to suit my mood.

So I'm gonna post here and there as and when I feel like. Cos I CAN!!

Since I last posted, life has changed dramatically here; obviously in September I was granted my divorce and that was a incredible relief. However a downturn in Moannie's health has changed everything, my perspective in terms of it's the NOW that is important and that I should grab that thing by its balls and run with it, sod those thoughts that screw you over thinking about them ad infinitum. Do it Sara! But what that thing I'm gonna run with is, has yet to present itself..... though l do have a few new ideas l am kicking around!

Also my job situation is very precarious, I have applied for voluntary redundancy as it would fit quite well with what's going on here just now, but its been refused, so I will probably end up doing a job I don't care for, but I have to swallow that too. For now.

My kids are in great shape. I have only seen my daughter twice this year as lives with her Dad now, and she returns from uni next week, it would be lovely to see her, but she is a very different place and time, so I go with the flow. My lovely son is the rock he has always been, and even more so right now, bless him. Does he know how much I adore him? Do they ever realise the impact they have? I bet he can't wait to go to uni next year, and break the apron strings. I can't even bear to think about being here alone, but he will have a great time l know it, so I keep imagining a new start somewhere far away, but that is really not gonna be practical on many levels.

I have a few more weeks off work, with the residue of my whiplash injury playing up in this damp weather and a couple of other health issues. So christmas prep is done and dusted, cake made, pressies wrapped (such as they are) and if I can be arsed I may put up the tree. the kids are to their Dad's this year and l am gonna lounge on the couch with Jack and Jimmy ..... (Daniels & Hendricks have you met them?) and on New Years eve lets kick the year up its butt big time. I am hopeful the Gin Queens will reunite to repeat last years' escapade in town!!

Hogarth would have been proud!

Saz x

(it's good to be back)

inching closer

2011-08-31T10:28:00.000+01:00

..and closer...this time next Wednesday I will be a single girl. Unmarried. Divorced.

When I received word that my divorce had been granted (on my terms) I was ecstatic, beside myself. It felt like a validation, someone believed me and agreed with my words and feelings.

And yet..the last couple of days have brought feelings of ambivalence and then some sadness, which is to be expected, but frankly I don't like it. It's too near the flat empty place I lived within for so long. I refuse to drown myself in such dampness and hopelessness.

After collecting my decree absolute, freshly stamped and with the ink of the Judge's signature still wet; I will be gathering with my friends. Those who helped me and encouraged me when I needed and when I didn't; those who sat quietly when I needed and who shouted at me when they believed I needed. Some of you are not able to be here in person, so I will raise my glass and think of you often.

I shall not dwell in sadness. I shall keep a torn corner of it and reflect upon it's making from time to time, with renewed perspective and lust for the adventures yet to happen...

I dwell in possibility....

Sara x

p.s. this will be my final post in this place, as I feel it is now full and complete. I have moved to a new place, a new wide open blank canvas... waiting to be written. You are welcome to join me.

A pain in the neck

2011-08-05T18:30:00.001+01:00

(although I now occupy a new space in blogland, I can't quite vacate the old homestead)

These days I think it's always wise to expect the unexpected and sure thing Monday was one of those days.....

I got shunted and not in a good way, stationary waiting for a jcb to cross in front of my car at road works, the driver behind, just didnt notice or something and rearended me big time, and promptly drove off.

Forward to Tuesday and after police, statements and the locating by them of the aforementioned driver, I was beginning to feel the effects, my car needs some tlc, a new bumper and spoiler and I need tlc and a new spine. Well not quite I am exaggerating a little.

I spent tuesday from 4pm, trussed up like a christmas turkey, flat on my back, neck in a brace and my head taped to the table in a large contraption. Took 6 people to roll me here there and everywhere. Xrays, bedpans, URGH! AND no movement at all, fearful that the whip lash had cracked a vertebrae or worse.

My only view was of the ceiling tiles for nearly 24 hours, and then the MRi . That was an experience, anyone I know who has had one, has said it claustrophobic and noisy at best. I found the clanging quite rhythmic and so I heard a melody in there and was only woken by my own snoring! (btw I'm sure I don't snore)

The consultant released me from my prison bed after the MRi. The good news was nothing was cracked or broken. I apparently have severe arthritis in my neck now as well as my lower back, though neither gives me any jip really. The whiplash effect has displaced a disc and its pressing on a nerve that is now also dislodged, causing the numbness. With rest it may all return to normal, so a couple of weeks off. Hopefully this will do the trick otherwise I'm to go to a neurosurgeon in Newcastle..

So from my lovely bed, surrounded with books, pens, paper, music, gin - I kid you not my pal brought me a water bottle full of gin n tonic to the hospital. I KNOW who my friends are!

Having two men fuss after me last evening was quite splendid, not sure how long I can extend this treatment, but a girl has to try!

(update - the acc

I'm moving on...

2011-07-28T02:29:00.001+01:00

no I am not moving house again...I can't even bear the thought of it!

I am moving on from FFF...I feel the time has come (see previous post) to spread my wings and er well push the envelope a little.

I will still post here from time to time and post images on Capturing Carlise as and when...

I have thought abut this for a while and with all the changes that have occurred over the four or more years since I first started blogging for my sanity I have decided to create a new space for myself elsewhere.

If any of my friends would like to come visit my new space, then please let me know and I will give you the details, I may have visited you already and you may not have known it to be me as I am not Saz/Sara at the new place..

As Jim says back soon with betterer stuff....

Sara x

another step forward

2011-07-26T23:59:00.001+01:00

... at 10am today, a county court judge will officially pronounce that I have been granted a decree nisi. In anticipation I believed that I would be quite sad when the letter arrived, in fact I was very pleased, very relieved and I found l was quite excited. I've been sad and unhappy for a long, long time...I believe I am done with all that.

Now I look forward to the 7th September's decree absolute and

I look forward.......

Many, many thanks for all the support, advice and shoulders proffered friends, work colleagues and family...you know who you are and please believe me when I say, 'l honestly could not have got through it without you....'

There are still some 'issues' yet to be addressed, but I am through the other side and
so to new beginnings, new friends, new experiences and pleasures...

I've only just begun

What have I been doing....?

2011-06-20T01:31:00.000+01:00

well I have been

taking macro photos

and

and much sitting street side,

much contemplating and pondering

and working here...

eating my lunch here

tea drinking ahhhh!!

thinking about cycling

not doing though, weather has been crap

and l am a fair weather cyclist!

some mixing it...

with Lucy

and I stayed far too long in here...

and l began to sell some of my handbag collection

and more people watching....

and

I fell in love

with this kitty, but I was told I couldn't bring her home...

not a cat lover, but I really fell head over heels this time

and I watched the sunset beyond the Castle at 10.15pm

so a bit of this and that .....

Sara x

Happy Father's Day!!

2011-06-19T01:14:00.003+01:00

voici mon pere..

Jean-Pierre

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it's time for an

2011-05-23T14:59:00.000+01:00

... I just need to pick up some popcorn and stretch my legs for a while!

almost

2011-05-20T21:47:00.010+01:00

but not quite...
is it enough?

like coming in second place
and you never quite got to where
you were heading,
where you needed to be

go on, reach out.....
reach out, s t r e t c h out
further, more.....
reach farther than you have ever reached out
before,

and yet still,
it is an inch away,
right before your very eyes

an inch may as well be
an ocean,
a chasm

utterly unreachable
unattainable
untouchable
unreal

and you can see it
smell it
breathe it in
look it in the eye
peer into its light
and dark
feel its warmth
its heat

looking right back at you

and yet,
however much you reach,
however much you yearn,
it will never fill you,
nor complete you,
it can never be yours

and when want,
becomes
need

then
most often
you are fucked

and so...

is almost

better than nothing

should almost
be
enough?

Saz n Lucy ready to rock n whatever....

2011-05-14T10:26:00.003+01:00

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Check out our BIG WEEKEND pics!!

I know this for sure...

2011-05-14T00:56:00.006+01:00

Time heals (kinda)

Tomorrow never comes, so stop waiting for it, do that thing NOW

Loving our children is the most important thing we can do for them,
being there always is the second
being a parent not a friend is the third

Never give advice unless it is asked for (oopps l think l just did)

A house is not necessarily a home

Cherish your friendships

You have to love, soothe and care for yourself before you can properly do the same for anyone else

Love is more important than things, a house, a car, if you find it, live it, breathe it....
but if it suffocates you, it isn't real, you will get lost, time to bail....

Life is to short too iron, fold carefully

When all is dark inside and out remember two words,' HOLD ON''...works for me every time

Never settle for less, in fact never settle

Trust your inner voice

a few words from

2011-05-12T00:35:00.000+01:00

Emily Dickinson (1830–86). Complete Poems. 1924.

Part One: Life

XXXII

HOPE is the thing with feathers
That perches in the soul,
And sings the tune without the words,
And never stops at all,

And sweetest in the gale is heard;	5
And sore must be the storm
That could abash the little bird
That kept so many warm.

I ’ve heard it in the chillest land,
And on the strangest sea;	10
Yet, never, in extremity,
It asked a crumb of me.

Dancing in the rain

2011-05-08T20:43:00.004+01:00

On my doorstep in the most wonderful rainfall with the acoustic accompaniment of thunder and lightening.
Lucy singing 'London Town' and me swigging on a second bottle of Cosmic fizz... Glee
Unplanned moments are the best!

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I have been locked out for 3 hours. I am cold and pissed off!

2011-05-05T22:37:00.003+01:00

OMG!!!

I worked today, came home for a while, then I rushed back out to work this evening...
Finished work at 7.30ish,followed by a swift half in the pub with colleagues and then scampered home.... and duh ...no keys.

Called one and only son, he was at his Dad's house, I asked what time was he coming back and was his sister in town...

he chortling '....after eleven Mum, and nah she is here with us',

I groaned, putting on a brave face, 'ok l'll go to Tesco and then get something to eat', trying to ignore the laughter in the background, or was I just imagining it.

I so needed to pee. I went to cast my vote, only after I begged to use their loo. Thank you God!

I sauntered off to Tesco, £10 in my purse, bought a paper, some reduced flowers, just cos l have to have flowers and walked in the rain to McDonald's as far as my budget would stretch. CLOSED.

Strolled round to KFC, dawdled outside, cos l knew if I bought one it would be deelish, but then it would sit in my belly all night, heavy and on my hips for the next month.

They were about to close, so I pitifully walked up and bought the daggy end of the chicken, chucked in between the dry sides of a chabbata bun. Chips and a coke.

I had managed to kill an hour, I sat on my stoop, ate the lot, way to fast. Got ketchup all over me and my mobile phone. Called everyone l know. no one home tonight. Then texted everyone I don't know. Unsurprisingly I had no replies

I sat and sipped coke and smoked too many smokes.

The mobile bell sounded and Lucy texted, 'Hi hun, l'm out. Can't help you, sorry!' ugh!

Just before 11pm, my son texted to say he was on his way home. Now to face the question that had been forming in the recess of my mind. Do I go hide around the corner, until his Dad has dropped him off. Or sit there, frozen, damp, with white numb toes and fingers. Could I really be arsed to move, to save face?

Nah! I had forgotton my keys is all. I waited another ten minutes and my son got dropped off around the corner.

I am tucked up in my warm dressing gown. A hot shower n mug tea . Bliss.

Note to self. As this is the third time this has happened in as many months, go get yourself two new keys cut tomorrow and keep them in your purse.

Night all.

My Mojo was missing

2011-05-03T21:28:00.003+01:00

I'm not sure I can explain this properly. I'm not sure I can even put my finger on it. I'm not sure I even know where it has been. I'm not so sure I would recognise it if I saw it. I will try and explain.

I think I began to miss it some years ago. Some days I found myself feeling as if I was detached from my body. Detached from my family and friends. Detached from my life. Detached. In limbo.

It was as if I was in waiting for an event. What event? I had no knowledge of any nor any expectancy for any such happening.
It has felt like the sort of thing you read about when people talk about 'out of body experiences'. I have felt sad. At times I have felt very angry. Frustrated. Fit to burst. But I know not what about. I have felt disappointment.

It isn't depression. That shadow has visited. I know the difference. It is a chasm. Deep space. Off the beat. Out of sync.

I have assuaged these deep and strong feelings by telling myself I am at a crossroads. A watershed. Perhaps it is trite and indulgent, but it has seemingly got me through, I think to here and now. It has helped. Nothing terrible has happened. Really. I think I have been changing. Treading water. Holding on. By my fingernails.

Over a year on from big changes and I think I have found a balance. I hope. I have not been looking. We have made changes. Not all welcomed. Some by the seat of our pants. Not all tangible.

Maybe it takes a little sunshine. Maybe it is a rite of passage. From one age to another. The dynamic is changing. I am changing. Everything changes. All of the time. Sometimes there is more noise. Sometimes there is a space left that needs filling. Or not. Maybe it takes time. Energy. Patience. Deep replenishing breaths of life.

It may also be that the cathartic and life affirming nature of these changes have helped. It may be the kindness of others. Watching people reach out. Friendships made. The beginning of something new. The fulfillment and richness of the moment. The prize of life.

A shift in the spirit level of family. Relationships realigned.

It is early days, but I'm pretty sure I've got my mojo back!
(I wonder what I should do with it, now that I've found it!)

reasons to be cheerful

2011-05-02T22:14:00.000+01:00

today my son is contented,

today my daughter is okay (I think),

today there is food in the fridge n cupboards,

today bills are paid (just),

today the sun is shining,

today everyone I care about is healthy,

today I haven't been made redundant at work (this time around),

today I have the best of friends ( lucky me),

today I have my own place, and space to ponder and dream,

so for today this has to be enough...

Up close

2011-05-01T21:44:00.004+01:00

During this wonderful hot weather spell

I have spent some time in my magic garden

pondering and wondering...

and

having some fun

with the macro settings on my camera

(no I rarely read the instructions)

daisy, daisy...

l will never take the daisy for granted again, how beautiful is this...!

who woulda thought a dandy could look so brilliant

so soft...

so blue...but what the heck is it?
Ron tells me it is a Bluebonnet, national flower of Texas no less!!

a peek in through my special garden...

(click any to enlarge)

thought for today...

2011-05-01T17:44:00.003+01:00

"Forever is composed of nows." ~Emily Dickinson

Gold Dust

2011-04-30T19:00:00.000+01:00

Just arrived two gold dust tickets for the Saturday!

I was tempted to give them to my kids, for about a milli second,

and why should I?

we all applied and heck I want to see Foo Fighters and PLAN B.

God I love Strickland banks LP sorry CD!

Blink

2011-04-29T22:26:00.003+01:00

a blink of an eye
and it could pass you by

unnoticed
unmeasured

a stolen glance
a touch
a moment

gone
its only trace
a bruise
no one can see

yet I can feel it
with each in breath
and every beat of my heart

would I have missed it
if I had blinked once
out of time

not a chance

a late springing

2011-04-21T16:57:00.001+01:00

snow topped hills

peek out upon the horizon

last weeks frost lingers

in the thick earth

the sun is higher in the blue,

volcanic ash-free skies

bare branches stretch out
proudly showing off their new buds

crowded cafe tables

clutter the streets

renewed vigour and hope
drowns out
the winter blues

daffodils stand tall
wave bravely,

a new hairstyle
trashed in the fresh breeze

exposed hands and feet
in open toe shoes, chilled

manicured toes and fingernails,
defiantly painted slut red

sunglasses perched
at the ready on head

breathing deeply of the sweeter spring air
the promise of new beginnings

Times passes...

2011-03-08T22:21:00.000Z

it's been nearly a month since l last posted and l don't know where the time has gone. I haven't posted because I haven't thought of a blog post, a topic, haven't felt the need to rant, cry or cheer.

I have just been.... still, watching, waiting, mulling, living.

I haven't been particularly busy, but I have been thinking a lot...and thinking time is the best of times (it can be crap too) but I like the way that problems, answers to questions and general musings mutate into solutions.

And when l say thinking time, l am not frenetically analysing stuff, I am just absorbing and letting things wash over me. This is not something l would usually do. But then this is not my usual. It's my now. And so I just accept it. And each day a problem turns into a solution, general niggles seem to right themselves.

The blog(s) have filled a hole, have kept me company, entertained, enriched and consoled me and sometimes divided my own opinions. A crutch. A friend. indeed.

As l make my own way. find my space. open my eyes and watch and listen. I find I am comfortable in just letting the tide come in and then as it must, go out.

I think perhaps letting go and believing in self is the key here. The realisation of it all, just takes time.

the return

2011-02-17T23:00:00.000Z

I know the how
I know the when
I know I am diminished by the why
and dismissal plunders deep

the skin dries, peels,
sheds
over and over
and over

the new virgin flesh
is supple and chaste
moistened

divest of mind clutter
massage gently
at the points of remember

feelings
left
to float beside me
lay comfortably

accepting
of their presence
not needing
to feel or do

it just is...

( I found this in my drafts, revisited it is even more so a truth)

One year on

2011-02-14T00:20:00.004Z

and I find I am still breathing,

feeling,

loving,

holding my life in my hands

one year on

and I find I am void of anger,

bitterness,

holding still, a little disappointment

one year on,

I find much is the same,

friends, family

others,

holding me back from shadow

one year on

and I find I like myself,

no longer lost,

hidden,

settling for less, for the sake of 'us',

holding on to the real me again

one year on,

and I find much is different,

mostly within me,

I hunger for life

I thirst for courage

I mostly breathe

in wonder

one year on

and I find I am filled with curiosity,

realising that what was, isn't all there is,

isn't all there should be,

holding out for a better way,

a better me

14th February 2011

Bottoms up!

2011-02-13T00:15:00.004Z

Cheers! Slainte! Prost! L'chaim!
Skal! Na zdoroviel! Sante!
cin cin!
Up yours!

time for extreme measures...

everything is just fine here

xxxx

Rise, rise, rise...

2011-02-08T20:43:00.001Z

For my friend 'Suburbia', for whom today I shed bucket loads,
she rose like a warrior today, I'm so proud of you,
she is fab, feisty and forty something

and for my girlies, you know who you are,

and for me

Still I Rise

You may write me down in history
With your bitter, twisted lies,
You may trod me in the very dirt
But still, like dust, I'll rise.

Does my sassiness upset you?
Why are you beset with gloom?
'Cause I walk like I've got oil wells
Pumping in my living room.

Just like moons and like suns,
With the certainty of tides,
Just like hopes springing high,
Still I'll rise.

Did you want to see me broken?
Bowed head and lowered eyes?
Shoulders falling down like teardrops.
Weakened by my soulful cries.

Does my haughtiness offend you?
Don't you take it awful hard
'Cause I laugh like I've got gold mines
Diggin' in my own back yard.

You may shoot me with your words,
You may cut me with your eyes,
You may kill me with your hatefulness,
But still, like air, I'll rise.

Does my sexiness upset you?
Does it come as a surprise
That I dance like I've got diamonds
At the meeting of my thighs?

Out of the huts of history's shame
I rise
Up from a past that's rooted in pain
I rise
I'm a black ocean, leaping and wide,
Welling and swelling I bear in the tide.
Leaving behind nights of terror and fear
I rise
Into a daybreak that's wondrously clear
I rise
Bringing the gifts that my ancestors gave,
I am the dream and the hope of the slave.
I rise
I rise
I rise.
Maya Angelou

Marchons! Marchons!

2011-02-05T18:28:00.000Z

Flicked on the rugby, it's Six Nations time again....and phoar!!!

Stopping by to check them there thighs,

and it's such a good game,

I haven't yet switched back

to ITV2

to gauggle at Steven Tyler

so must be good

... and then they brought on

Chabal

not a fan of muscley bodies

then there is always the exception

Just because I can and in case he hasn't reach your tv screen

thought I would share him with you!

My pleasure

Get a grip woman

2011-01-30T00:04:00.003Z

It's a double edged sword, parenting, motherhood, you want to keep them close and safe, yet know that the whole point of it all is to let them gently, step by step find their own way out there in the big old bad world. To nurture, feed and clothe them, give them boundaries (I'm crap at that now they are older). Give them space and time, and I do honestly I try very hard not to smother. It's time to take few more steps back from them.

This last year since my son and I have lived alone, apart from my husband and my daughter, I have accepted much and discarded what I can do absolutely nothing about, to hold onto it is toxic. I am no longer lost in a mist of an unhealthy relationship and a fog of unhappiness. The kids are seemingly accepting, each facing their own patches of darkness and coming out stronger, hopefully with lessons learned, and new expectations.

I like living as a single woman I find, exploring possibilities, no longer in fear of what lies ahead.

Next Friday at 4am, yes you read that right, no typo, 4 bloody am, I shall walk my son a few hundred yards at best, around to his school, to meet the coach that will take him on his latest school trip. Patrick is going away for a 6 day trip to Paris & Brussels with his school friends and the excitement has been growing here steadily since Christmas.

This overlaps coincidentally with my 5 days off on the work rota. So l figure I will either be furiously washing and cleaning the house, or mopping about like a lost soul. I doubt it though...

Hopefully I will be somewhere in the middle of all that, by studying and perhaps even a bit of time spent drawing or painting.

Lots of wandering around the flat semi nude, cos l am mostly a few degrees hotter than is comfortable, and just cos I can and it feels good.

I can play my kinda music as loud as I want, (without overhead groans), listen to my 70's LP's all grainy and non digital on the old record player.

I don't have to cook cos l need to, just cos I want to, all stuff my son doesn't like, asparagus and blue cheese risotto, creamed spinach, eat brussel sprouts raw yum, smoked haddock, Massaman curry, my own anchovies and olive pizza and spicy chicken casserole...

I'm not sure l'll have the time to miss him or worry.
Even though February hides many ghosts that will bug me...

He'll be fine and l'll be fine.
I have fine friends.

Am so very jealous though, I mean belle Paris! I can never tire of that city. To walk and walk and walk, by day and night through the early morning, buying a fresh baguette or croissants at 4am and relishing each hot mouthful! I think I might treat myself finances allowing, post divorce (please soon) to take my self off for a long weekend there, perhaps with a pal.

Now this sounds like a plan. I shall pick up some brochures tomorrow!

I could even use my french passeport for the first time, enfin!

Saz x

and the fun continues...

2011-01-28T23:48:00.001Z

a quiet night in

but went for a drink after work

which continued to the

local Indian

yummy

Jenni, Faye & Luce

Charlotte F is not looking to impressed

and a rare uncensored pic of FFF

things are definitely looking up!

Have a good weekend

Saz x

A Girlie Day

2011-01-22T22:49:00.002Z

I have been looking forward excitedly for today. I attended a Life Drawing workshop and this is something I adore, getting lost in my own zone. Painting and drawing, like reading and writing really does this for me. I have let it go but no longer.

I am totally absorbed within the small space before me, upon which I can create. Utter bliss. I haven't made any life drawing for years and l have hankered, oh how I have...So today for four straight hours, I drew and drew and drew, short poses and long poses. By the time I found my eye, I had only a one hour pose left.

The smaller, neatly hatched compositions were quite contained but for this last one, I did my own thing.
Out came the charcoals, the pastels and pencils and I mixed the media and just let it all out! Such fun and so good for the 'soul'. A Saturday morning that created calm!

Then I attended a talk in the Museum on 'Pre-Raphaelite's and their heirs', which is part of the launch week activities for the newly refurbished and rehung galleries that make up the Tullie House Pre-Raphaelite collection, many works haven't seen the light of day for several decades.

I met a girlfriend for a swift pint, as l'm off the gin for now as pints last longer and are cheaper, l'll watch out for the beer bellies!

We then went shopping for a top for Faye..............3 hours later we returned to the pub, with overflowing bags. I bought two dresses, accessories, a skirt and a jacket that sounds hideous because I described it to Mum/Moannie and she shrieked, but I'm assured it looks fab! One dress Faye showed me, was I instantly said was more suitable for my 19 year old daughter. She assured me it would look great and that I could carry it, a size 12/14and l laughed and said no chance, my mind is still in the 18/20 zone obviously even though l am now 50lbs lighter than I was last February. I surprised myself and other customer by stripping off to my bra in the middle of an aisle and saying, 'what the heck, l can't be arsed queuing for a changing room...' and tried it on, l thought a little mutton, but Faye, my son, his girlfriend and my daughter who just popped into say Hello! between pubs and clubs, reassured me I do not.

So I am set for whatever, whenever, perhaps with a whomever!

Sara's got her mojo back!

out of reach

2011-01-20T01:15:00.002Z

I'm driving,
without a destination,
just driving
feigning I have control of something,
within my hands,
my grasp

it's raining,
or is it?
through the misty, wet, windscreen
of my eyes,
I leave the country road
and stall along the grassy verge

baggage in the trunk
weighing heavy,
intent on pulling me down

I reach for the door handle,
hold on tight to its cold shiny hardness,
till the moment passes
and step beyond the car

a lane
more like a clearing
to my right
is clear of its green summer trellis,
undressed branches wave me through

the smell of winter leaving,
a whiff of spring essence fills me,
l choke on deep mouthful's and I swallow,
savouring its sweetness,

uphill I climb through the bracken,
past a barren, stagnant stream,
fed only from recent thawed pathways,

and at the top
I can see out over fields
and potential summer meadows

in the distance
seemingly out of reach,
a disused railway bridge,
solitary, waiting, brave, resolute,
beckoning,

I meander toward it,
all overgrown, weary,
asleep,
yet full of living,

I walk along
between its grass filled tracks,
they keep me in line,
suggest a direction,
I walk for the longest time,

I walk head bowed,
scliffing my boots,
amid stones, brush and twigs,
tinder dry

fuel for the fire inside,
beginning to burn itself out,
if I don't feed it,
sustain it,
the smoke that still burns in my lungs,
from the inside out,

I want the flames to lick my throat,
smell the smoke in my hair, on my skin,
still intoxicating,
how long will the embers glow

I turn slowly, reluctantly
and
retrace my steps

weather watch

2011-01-18T10:04:00.001Z

when the hurricane hit
I wasn't surprised,
in fact I needed it,
wanted it,
had for years
waited and hungered
for its power and strength
to carry me off

helpless to defend
the onslaught
of bile, disrespect and hostility,
I brought in my emergency services
and quickly shored up the detritus,
taking what comforts remained,
leaving,
yet defiant to protect mine own

brick by brick
I laid a place for us,
to wait, to heal, to breathe,

each brick expertly laid

straight and level,

four the walls around us

all tall and thick

keeping me in,

keeping it out,

keeping us safe

from the elements of more change

before we, I am ready

to let anyone in

or me out

when summer came,
the boy spread his wings,
sure of himself and his abilities
and flew out, further and farther,
now standing tall and brave
and confident

meanwhile,
I watch and wait,
checking the skies,
to see which way the wind blows

yet still l waited...

2011-01-16T10:42:00.004Z

I wrote this last year on new years day... it had been in my bones for years, yet still I waited. It is now done and I am no longer lost, just floating on a contemplative moment

Pockets of Change

she is still,

agly perched on the bed

unnoticed,

the safer option

a perifery of pain

in every road crossing,

each dusty word

hangs heavy and hot

in the stale air
cleft an open silence,

skulking into her apron,

clenched fists

slammed deep

into the pockets

of change

the thin ties that bind

are taut

sinew like

cutting into her back

leaving deep wales

her skin searing

with heat

itching to be scratched,

her nails dig deep,

loughing up flesh

to feel, must feel it

her darkness shadows

misshapen memories

left against the wall

her apron

hides the dull ache

kept preserved

boxed, plain, simple

unspoken,

her guard is down

tensions press the forehead

a pulse throbs with urgency

her open flesh yearning

for the crumbs
in the pages of remembrance

inbetween each sheath

each page

loves, lies, lives lived

hidden by life's procrastinations

her efforts to avoid change

and pain

the landscape of life

surrenders its waste,

she can smell it

taste it, fear it

dessicated leaves fallen,

branches reaching out

into the unknown,

bare

all knowing
she has watched them grow

change colour

like their moods

she needs to swallow,

gulps of succour

burning at her throat,

a venting,

the loss

the sleet trapped on her eyelashes

melts

and falls onto seared cheeks,

tears fall to burst

she falls

from the grey eiderdown

that threatens suffocation

beckoning

'take me'

the room suddenly suffused

with sunlight

offers succour,

no longer decayed

nor barren or bereft

overwhelming

layers upon layers

of calm,

she lay open,

exhausted

and weeping

Sore. Pain.

Alive.

S.A.F.W. 01/2010

a thin line

2011-01-13T11:01:00.017Z

between love and hate
unlike a high wire artist
we wobble and lurch from side to side
in relationships, friendships
our families,
the line doesn't shift
it is a constant
it's taut and keen,
yet we waver
and hold out our arms in defiance
praying not to fall off
into the abyss of terror,
unknown, alone,
love holds its own line
on one edge
we fall
passionately, fulfilled, trusting
or if unlucky in a state of
captured, controlled, coerced
hate lines,
has too a passion, it feeds, it distrusts
or is innate, bleeding one dry from within,
each emotion
felt with a fervour,
impossible to fathom
moments of joy and sadness,
then
flipped like a coin
to be caught or dropped
without a safety net
to the ground

walk the line
trust in its strength
trust in self

Something

2011-01-12T02:29:00.002Z

it is,

was,

just something

something to reignite

the dampened flame

something to make me

laugh again

something to hold on to

for a few moments

something to breathe

the life back into me

something to smell,

touch and arch into

something to lose,

as quickly as was found

just something

flame bright

2011-01-09T23:50:00.005Z

the naked flame,
beside me
flickers in the night

each breath l take threatens it,
my out breath hovers,
undecided whether to nourish it
or kill it

an old tune warms the room
nostalgia washes onto the pillow
a freeze frame of a golden moment
haunts the senses

shards of a new day,
of expectations not yet taken to root
but seeded deep in the dampness

I rise to the challenge,
keeping the flame bright
feeding it
just as it burns away

another hope,
another dream,
l shiver, I tremble,
while you watch
from a far,

I hesitate, I breathe

don't extinguish the flame
not just yet...

l need you

a feel good moment

2011-01-06T10:59:00.000Z

Gin Queens

2011-01-04T19:16:00.001Z

I have never bothered with New Years Eve on so many levels,

this year was going to be different l decided,

from the get go I would boot 2010 up its arse

and spend the first few hours of the new year with good friends

toasting the new year in!

gini hendricks x 5

the very gorgeous faye

charlotte and emma - Charlotte is almost as heavy handed with the gin as l am

the hostess with mostest gin in Cumbria - apparently!

Sara x

river walks

2011-01-02T19:09:00.002Z

not the greastest quality

from my phone camera

but the colours are true

4pm

new years day

love the silhouetted tree line

quite fitting to my quiet mood

took this on Boxing Day

ice melting

for Erin in black & white

It's a new dawn, It's a new day, It's a new life for me ......and I'm feeling good

2011-01-01T13:05:00.001Z

Birds flying high you know how I feel
Sun in the sky you know how I feel
Breeze driftin' on by you know how I feel

It's a new dawn
It's a new day
It's a new life
For me
And I'm feeling good

Fish in the sea you know how I feel
River running free you know how I feel
Blossom on the tree you know how I feel

Dragonfly out in the sun you know what I mean, don't you know
Butterflies all havin' fun you know what I mean
Sleep in peace when day is done
That's what I mean

And this old world is a new world
And a bold world
For me

Stars when you shine you know how I feel
Scent of the pine you know how I feel
Oh freedom is mine
And I know how I feel

Sara x

Happy New Year!!

thwarted

2010-12-27T01:26:00.001Z

there are so many silences..

all are a deafness
that defies all words,

moments chosen,
friendships thwarted,
a need to control
the unknown

I chose silence,
but the white noise
resents my reasoning,

fear and self loathing
take over the lease,
as we run from our shadows
and cleave pathways
in the wilderness,
hacking away at distrust
that is only mine,

fear must be owned
l can do that
but will I
trust me again

will you

to my friends,

2010-12-23T22:51:00.001Z

family and colleagues,

just because ....

thanks x

stooping

2010-12-19T18:10:00.004Z

It twists,

and curls

its tendrils

rising high above me

Bewitched,

I glance at the almost full moon

clear and luminous

its glow reflected into my eyes

feeding me

and upon the snow lined path

before me

A hanging fog

like the shawl around me,

a translucent flourish

of paisley coil,

a wisp that disappears in seconds

I exhale and momentarily

it's in sight again

only to vanish as I reach out

elusive in the dark

It leaves its odour on my flesh,

I feel and smell it close,

taste it,

lick and bite my lips

tantalising and teasing,

I inhale to catch the magic

deep within my creases

my heart pounds

as it burns way down,

my throat aches

am light of head

Moments stolen upon my stoop

a pack of lies in my pocket

Sara

Hanging in here..

2010-12-17T13:45:00.001Z

l am giver, never a leaver
I am sister, never a sibling
I am leader, rarely a follower

l am keeper, never a deserter
I am teacher, never a preacher
I am listener, always a shoulder

l am worker, never a shirker
I am stayer, never a faker
I am sayer, always a friend

I am sinner, sometimes a player
I am hoper, never a runner
I am singer, always a song

I am a believer, never a no hoper
I am lover, never a hater
I am woman, always a warrior

Sara x

James Taylor - Wichita Lineman - Grammy Nominated

2010-12-17T01:47:00.000Z

' ... and I need you more than want you..', gets me every time and catches in my throat

Sublime Shakey

2010-12-15T10:13:00.002Z

SONNET 20

A woman's face with Nature's own hand painted

Hast thou, the master-mistress of my passion;

A woman's gentle heart, but not acquainted

With shifting change, as is false women's fashion;

An eye more bright than theirs, less false in rolling,

Gilding the object whereupon it gazeth;

A man in hue, all 'hues' in his controlling,

Much steals men's eyes and women's souls amazeth.

And for a woman wert thou first created;

Till Nature, as she wrought thee, fell a-doting,

And by addition me of thee defeated,

By adding one thing to my purpose nothing.

But since she prick'd thee out for women's pleasure,

Mine be thy love and thy love's use their treasure.

Rufus Wainwright

Taking a break...

2010-12-12T11:21:00.000Z

A train with a view

lucky capture

stone wall

in winter

Ribblehead Viaduct ? I believe

at Moannie's

my old new best friend, Milou

dog walking every afternoon

blows away

any cobwebs

revisiting old haunts

realigning memories

and misspent deeds

Reculver Towers

Minnis Bay & Margate

in the walkable distance

Down time ... Postponed - Revisited?

2010-12-07T17:30:00.001Z

To avoid profound and expensive repairs to this blogger, it has been deemed necessary to close down at regular intervals. I have decided to adopt a planned approach to these periodical rest days. Most necessary to sustain and replenish, and hopefully involve much body tune ups in a prostrate position, supine and floating in a bath of gin. A handsome infertile flexible male to peel me grapes and feed my whims.

So for the nest few days, I shall be unavailable due to routine maintenance. To keep this blogger running smoothly,it may be prudent to install flash players, oh yeah baby!

In other words - l'm ~~driving~~ letting the train take the strain down to the parents, Moannie and JP for some tlc. Which will no doubt include the prostrate position on couch, watching with mother; Milou on hand to pet; some deep meaningful lunches with a strong Latin edge; much rolling of eyes and side aching laughter.

~~Back next week.~~

~~At the time of writing this post I was good to go.... then a glitch and a postponement until December.~~ Disappointing but...

Life's like that.

It's December and it's still snowing, melting, refreezing and snowing again..n subject to the trains, l shall be at Moannie's Wednesday evening...

Carlisle .-15' coldest place in England this morning
Kent?...will report in words and pics over the coming days....

Saz x

a new way

2010-12-05T01:05:00.001Z

the rains subside
resentment washes into the gutters
and the watchman unseen
cold under the street light
onside

the snows came

and chilled my blazing heart

burning my lungs

threatening to crush
leaving hard choices

much love, empathy and words

shored up my hunger

three women in defiance

led me through the listening gate

and I emerge strengthened

for me it is now done

the shame of having lost myself

within a fog of dull, empty expectations

my truth revealed one more

l can forgive and leave its smell

upon those that did not see me

did not care to see

a gate unlatched by unwitting hands

he left me open and wanting
the sap rises

daily shedding a layer

until l could ache no longer

the watchman showed me the way

harvesting a cleansing flame

licking the shames and secrets

into the fire

leaving my sallow skin ashen and dry

my hopes, our failures

discarded without reference

no longer enabling or colluding,

defiant l rise

to capture the moments that are only mine

Some christmas spirit

2010-12-01T01:21:00.001Z

Christmas is forcing itself upon Carlisle

I helped run a stall/shed/shack/shop thingy in the town centre over the weekend

freeZINg weather, snow and no chill factor thank god

it was a pr event for the Museum

and we had some fun and kept warmer than expected

I tried to capture our surroundings

Someone to watch over me

2010-11-17T22:32:00.010Z

last night he watched over me
he sang me a lullaby
his words broke me and rung me gently out
I dreamt he soothed and caressed me
with his whispers

the high winds of night swept me up
the watchman threw me a lifeline
sweet but firm
he led me to the light
sage, wise words, guiding me

approaching the witching hour

the demon alive in my heart and mind

exorcised

for one night only

nightmares banished
falling into heaviness, l slept

gently nudged awake by the song of the albatross
my thoughts ran to the dream
the watchman, now a world away
left me comforted

still alive and in one piece
I turned in my warm blanket
... a note left by the bed side

Sara

a fine line....

2010-11-15T22:39:00.001Z

l am without words ...

l am hiding under my rock..

The View from this End..

2010-11-02T22:05:00.002Z

Well, oh my Mother!

After nearly a month of long distance phone calls,
sweat and toil, a trillion emails, messages to the non-people of the elusive and seemingly not contactable Google and Blogger...

We have had a result amid the reassurances, that Mum's Blog Name 'The View from this End' and address have been returned to her undressed in terms of her posts, but nevertheless is her natural home.

I think this has brought it shockingly clear to her, that she has blog land in her heart as well as mind amid the doubts and in the times, days, moments when she is frozen without a fresh post in her head.

She now knows without a doubt that she is truly entrenched and in love with blog land, with all their friends she has made within, and to their words which resonate and fill her...

l don't think she will be thinking of leaving here ever again.
A Pyramid of Piffle

Welcome home Mum!!

luv Saz x

p.s. if she is in your side bar, reader or dashboard list, she should reappear as she posts, but you willl have to follow her again....

A Fair Vintage..

2010-10-30T16:23:00.001+01:00

This morning I visited the first 'Nostalgia meets Design '

event held at Rheged Visitor Centre near Penrith

I have been swithering about having a stall there myself

but thought it best to see for myself how well attended

and what sort of mix of goods were available
(all images enlarge with one click)

an early 1960s Airtsream trailer in the parking lot set the tone

The venue offered a stylish and eclectic selection of vintage fashion, jewellery, accessories,

clothing, homewares and textiles and reconstructed crafts....

wonderful eclectic mix of home wares & kitchenelia

from Fiona Cox assorted Vanity, textiles and linens

a stall of hats in homage to bygone days

from Victoria Relph

assortedhouse items from vintage fabrics and textiles

bespoke cake maker with a cake fashioned on my good self

feet up, cake, voluptuous and bag at the ready for all eventualites!

friend and fellow vintage trader Fran Boyd, who runs Goodbye Norma Jean,

she now offers a pop up vintage shop with cupcakes and chat in your own home

Kendal's own Revival vintage shop

deep in the Lake District

a nice change for a Saturday morning..

abc Wednesday O is for....

2010-10-27T15:12:00.001+01:00

Opulance

During my summer break

my friend and I

visited The Bowes Museum

in the market town of Barnard Castle

The Green Man

Fleur de Lys garden

John and Joséphine Bowes founded The Bowes Museum. John, the son of the 10th Earl of Strathmore, was born in Teesdale in 1811. His mother was a commoner, Mary Millner, who lived with the Earl to all intents as his wife for many years. The Earl married her just 16 hours before his death in an attempt to save his son’s succession. Two very long court cases ensued, finally settling the Durham estates on John, but not recognising him as the legitimate heir to the Strathmore title.

John was educated at Eton and became a very successful business man who invested heavily in the coal reserves on his land and bred four Derby winners. From 1847 he spent his time between France and England.

Joséphine Bowes was born in 1825. She was an actress in the Théatre des Variétés, Paris, which John Bowes owned. She shared John’s love of the arts and they married in 1852.

it's the little things...

2010-10-23T01:53:00.002+01:00

Why oh why do kids not clear up after themselves? It's every generations headache and an old, old chestnut l know.

It's usually me who gives in and just takes dishes through to the kitchen. Today l cleared 5 glasses, 3 plates and 6 mugs from my son's den.

In the living room a plate with the remnants of a kebab lurked pungently, but l left it there until he popped home from school for lunch.

He ate a plate of noodles and l asked him to clear both plates when he was done. He didn't. Soy sauce swallowed the room.

Later as l collected the evidence together and began to walk to the kitchen, l turned and went into his bedroom and placed them upon his bed. I closed the door behind me for maximum effect.

When he returned from school he paused in his room, looking, figuring it all out. I lurked in the hall, he said loudly,

'Do you think l don't get this is a ploy on your part?'

Me, 'That may well be the case,'

Son, 'Well for that l will leave them, not playing these games.'

Me- appearing disappointed, but secretly knowing, with a touch of blag for good measure,
' Ok, fair enough, thought it would be a funny thing to do, don't get het up.'

I walked down the hall to the kitchen, smiling to myself.

Two hours later, he appeared in the kitchen, plates in hand, trying so hard not to smile, ' Don't gloat,' he said, dimples threatening.

Job done. I'll wait and see if this light-hearted episode will stay with him. There will be bigger and more important battles. I know.

be warned...

2010-10-17T23:25:00.001+01:00

...so as not to offend, for those of you with a sensitive disposition it may be better if you do not press play.....

I have found my theme tune 2010 over at Familyaffairs ! This makes me laugh, dance and sing....breathe it in girls!!! I love it!

A few Doddy moments

2010-10-14T22:49:00.002+01:00

French Fancy in Kent asked in her last post ..'what can you think of that has recently made you happy'

l'm assuming she is using the word happy loosely, as I find contentment is more manageable and satisfying. Happiness, like joy for me isn't a state of mind, it doesn't stay with you. it is fleeting. Contentment is achievable and l align myself to it. l am smug enough and able enough to try and and hope, to sustain it.

Joy is but of moments.

So l have spent odd moments today thinking ..'what can I think of that has recently made me happy'..

here are my Doddy moments.... get it? Ken Dodd - 'Happiness, happiness'

I finished reading a second book this week
The sun shone deep into my face
I have been home alone and content with it
I have made some exciting plans for next year
I wrote a letter of objection to my son's school this week and they made an about face within 24 hours!
I laughed with friends
I knitted all evening without objections
I had a duvet day and found I liked it....a lot, even though I was ill!
I heard something today, if it is what I think it might be it will make me feel Joy, even Happiness and lots of contentment!

YEAHHHH!!! Your friend and mine- David Authorblog McMahon is in the building...back from his sabbatical. I couldn't be more pleased!!

Getting stuck in again...

2010-10-12T00:27:00.002+01:00

It isn't New Year for sometime, even so I have never been a New Fear developing newyear-itus shortly after Boxing Day. Bah humbug and bad experiences have not enamoured me to the festivities. Although I am hopeful that I may even find myself enjoying the Eve in the future, perhaps in new company or a new space entirely. Who the hell knows!

I have never been one to make foolhardy, spur of the moment, resolutions or four. The only ones I remember are the oft mentioned, ' I will lose weight' and the ' I will stop smoking' ones. Funnily I have achieved both, (with the odd relapse) but not because of new year resolutions almost in spite of them!

The reason l mention resolutions is because I don't feel I need a reason, a kick up the backside or anything else for me to make changes. I just know I have to. Over the last few years due to a mix, of menopausal hormones, couch potato-itus and slothlike bad habits, I mislaid my enthusiasm for almost anything or anyone except my children. I admit it. I became bored with housework. Bored with cooking. Bored with the same old repertoire. Bored with the day to day. I guess those around me did too. Though the kids rarely expressed this so obviously and cruelly as to call my cooking, slop to my face. But that is another story. And thinking ahead when the kids left for Uni or work or whatever I couldn't think of anything to look forward to, I had been there, done it, what else was there. I think I had resolved to just be. That is not enough. Not nearly. No way, no how.

I have started to rekindled my interest in cooking with so many new programmes and books out this time of year. How could l not, it has helped reignite my gas hob(!) and I hope my enthusiasm for food and eating it is returning.

Many changes have taken place since February and you are probably just as tired of hearing about these as I am! But this is my space and this is one of the places I come back to often. I am able to look backwards over my shoulder, to the months and years l have written here and l know it is helpful to me to read these and reflect on the context of the time. I liken this place to the tv or radio; if you don't like what you are hearing then turn it/me off.

So I have decided to take up my studies again. These I began in 1999 and over the decade I have studied Humantites specialising in Art History with the Open University. I haven't been able to study every year and I had no particular goal other than to lry to learn again , to push myself academically and to try and enjoy the study ethic. I recently realised that I am 3/4 the way to getting a BA Degree. So I signed up for two courses next year with the Open University; Renaissance Rediscovered (Jan '11-Oct '11) and The Art Residential School (May - Oct '11) with one week at Queen Mary, London University. I have ordered the required books for preparatory reading, they shall keep me busy over the next couple of months. I hope it all comes back to me. Completing the degree in 2012 is the plan. I then hope to change track a little and study some Psychology courses.

Starting early next year I have also enrolled on an Italian short course in the evening for a 6 weeks, because l love the sound and taste of the language. Luckily I am comfortable with languages, I used to be fairly fluent in French and Mexican in my teens. Adding to this is a Silversmithing course and a Cookery weekend. I feel it is important for me to keep busy but not take on too much for fearing of burning out too soon. I was giving a lot of thought to retraining but at 52 a 5 year learning plan isn't realistic. I hope the Degree may open some doors within the Museum for me, if not it will be a huge achievement and very satisfying.

It's about giving the love back to me.

Here is some 'slop' I prepared earlier.

Olives, anchovies, chicken, baby pepperdews, plum tomatoes and ...

after baking for 1.5 hours. Deee-lish!

Moannie loses it!

2010-10-07T11:29:00.002+01:00

As some of you have already noticed Moannie's blog has been removed!
But do not panic Cptn. Mannering! I am hopeful all will be restored in due time.
No doubt she will recount her debacle to you in her own inimitable fashion, but to summarise - she called me all clammy and distressed after having fiddled with the new layout options and found she wasn't able to upload an image. In her frustration she thought it would be a good idea to try Picassa and then it all went badly wrong. She deleted her all new Picassa account, her google id and seemingly her blog.

I have Google and Gatsby at Blogger looking into it. Worse scenario is she may have to start over, I see her blog is still cached so we can save some of her posts.

She misses you and wants you to know she will be back soon, one way or another!

I am in bed with...

2010-10-05T14:07:00.002+01:00

Jeremy Vine. Yes l am!

He is on the radio beside me, a pile of magazines and knitting on the other side.
Phone and laptop on the tray over my legs.

After a night of coughing and pacing on the carpet tiles,
I managed to fall asleep, when one nostril allowed some air through,
and I slept into the heart of late morning.

I have a chesty cold. Not the flu. I've had both and I know the difference. I was sent home from work yesterday to take care of myself. I am under the duvet.

I shall shortly get up and shower ...but then l think why?
Why should l? Do l need to? Nothing really needs doing, cleaning, tidying.

I find lately l am thinking more about myself. My well being. It hasn't really ever been at the forefront of mind. Big mistake.
It seems l no longer concern myself with the storm of guilt. It's just not heading my way any more. I have been freed.
Then I think, should make the effort. There are expectations of me, wife, mother, work colleague. I forget momentarily. Old habits. But no, there isn't any expectation, if there ever was. That has been in my head, riding my thoughts. Whether by my own expectations of what should be, would be, could be ... or by the looks, sighs and pointed words, it concerned me.
Played with my head.

I am done with all that.

Staying in bed for one day will not affect the well being of my son. He is visiting his father this evening, he will be fed (kind of) and he may have to get the bus if l don't take him. No big deal.

My friends, parents, children and others have all helped me regain lost confidence. Letting me be. Letting me moan and groan. Talk and talk and talk.
I have found a deeper, inner strength
I am becoming myself again

I can choose to stay in bed.... so sod it l will stay in bed a bit longer, and l feel so much better for it already.
Today I not only breathe clearer. I CAN breathe!

...and if you need cheering up cos you are in bed too..how about this for a bit of perspective....

...and counting

2010-09-22T16:25:00.002+01:00

Historically I have always been tall and slender, even skinny after having children in my mid to late 30's I gradually gained weight. Eating for comfort is a western symptom of unhappiness, the one pool into which I dived headlong and remained underwater for the past decade.

During THAT week in February this year I lost one stone, then over the last few months another stone silently dropped off and stayed off.

Although I have recently been eating a healthy meal each day, I have not had a suitable breakfast or lunch. Of course though sufficiently nourishing, this will make me sluggish, as my metabolism will not be functioning properly. So I have enrolled on a healthy eating plan to train my self back into proper eating habits and it helps for me to have this structured guide. I am now eating better, more regularly and l have lost another 5lbs in two weeks. A total of 33lbs. A bit more cycling and I may have this cracked. Though l wouldn't recommend the kick start I had 7 months ago. I'm certainly coming out a healthier, happier and better person for it on several levels.

Just teasing, I do not look like these gorgeous babes

but l often feel like......

THIS!!!

Wot price independence

2010-09-19T14:00:00.002+01:00

What is a girl to do?

I have been pondering over the value of keeping my car, the costs of running it, compounded with fixing it when it gets ill, can be overwhelming. But this would mean l would rattle around town like a bag lady, weighed down by my wares and my woes. I could let the train take the strain on visits to Kent and on days out etc, no worries there, time to read, listen and think. But then l wouldn't be able to run Mum around and visit friends without planning the trip to the enth degree, which takes the fun and enjoyment out of it.

I do value my new found singledom independence greatly. I am my own woman. Mine own. The car allows me choices in the moment and adds to a feeling of control. Control. Yeah l like that. Mine own.

A few months ago whilst driving in town, the gear stick went limp in my hand (steady), then fell horizontally to the carpet. I felt the anger of the clutch and drove Miss Daisy style, in the one gear l could find to the dealership. My frustration was palpable as indeed was my upset. He must have remembered me, I was quoted £195 to fix it, I had no choice as the car would not move one further inch. Then the service guy told me he could do it for £75. I was so grateful (not too grateful) and paid up feeling so relieved.

So now, the car had a service in July. I was told by the same guy that at 8 years old or 75K miles, the car would need a cam belt fitted? wtf is that! £395 all in. As the look of terror froze on my face and a teardrop escaped he tapped his keyboard and turned the monitor to show me he had revised the cost of £195 for 4 hours workbecause he said, ' The car is 8 years old and you are a regular customer, but if the belt goes you will be introuble so dont leave it too long'. He also told me it wouldn't need doing for a couple of months, so l went away concoting my plan of action to get this fitted soon.

This week I was chatting with some male colleagues about cars, mechanics etc ....as one does! They thought I was may have been taken advantage of and they recommended another garage. Larry was never a handy DIY, savvy type around the home, garden or car so I thought I was continuing in the best vein. If you want a job done do it yourself Saz. Me. Myself. I. I can do this, that and the other.

Plus ça change (plus c'est la même chose).
saying ,
The more things change, the more they stay the same.
Used when a change does not result in an improvement in a situation

I phoned the recommended garage, spoke of what needed doing to the car and guess what! It is only a 2 hour job max, cam belt deosn't need changing until 10 years or 85K miles. They told me not to bother!
So I will keep the car, maintain it and move my custom to the other garage.

Now l can stop worrying! Well... that is the theory!

Sara

A Communion

2010-09-14T12:31:00.001+01:00

As the stars, sun and moon keep balance with each other, I too feel blanketed in the synergy here that shines its light through this place of writing.

Often times posts appear on the same or similar subject. It constantly amazes me how this happens within this vast land of united creativity.

In my imagination I see us all as a force of fertile overlapping circles. Bridging the gap. A balance between imagination & frustration.

We are in the same space, different place.

Different stories, same tune.

Like minded exchanges. Some challenging thoughts, views to stimulate thought.

Each story, each journey miles apart, but here we confess, unburden, fess up, confide, enlighten, encourage, incite, evoke every emotion.

Friendships made. Stories written. Hands reach out.

Holding on. Breathing deep. A lifeline for some.

A light for the night time. A few words for the day ahead.

Alone, but not lonely.

Though for some, the fear is always in residence,

punching through the darkness,

bravely we walk, hesitant to run.

Hope is always in my pocket,

I can feel it's shape comforting me through the fabric

that is straining with each beat of its heart

and I remember..

hope is stronger than the fear...

the life blood, we cannot live without.

Less restrained. Unburdened. Here we dare to hope. To speak. To write. To breathe deeply within the comfort of friends.

Sometimes - revisited

2010-09-11T19:08:00.000+01:00

Sometimes – it’s okay to accept less than your/their best

Sometimes - it's alright for things to be less than alright

Sometimes – its hard to cope or to manage the daily grind and that’s okay

Sometimes - life isn’t great and that’s okay too

Sometimes – it’s difficult to see past the hump in the road, this too shall pass, so wait

Sometimes – life is crap, that’s just the way it is. Accept. Move on.

Sometimes – the housework doesn’t HAVE to be done, the world won’t end if it's not done.

Sometimes - just put your feet up, grab a book, DVD, sleep.

Sometimes - that list doesn't need doing TODAY . Let it go.

Sometimes – It’s okay to feel guilty. It’s okay to feel crap. It really is.

Sometimes – ask for help, we all need help sometimes. No one will think any less of you.

Sometimes - is a way for living. Whatever keeps you afloat. Sane.

Nana

2010-09-07T10:07:00.000+01:00

1955 aged 44

My Nana (grandmother) Iris Eleanor Young, June to her friends,

was to me a marvellous woman, a glamorous woman and a brave woman.

My earliest memory of her was when I was about five or six ,

I guess she would babysit me as I was often round her home and probably like most little girls,

I' d to love looking through her jewellery box and her cupboards 'n' drawers.

For some reason I remember I used to play with her box of rubber bands she kept in a drawer, of which there were many - I suppose she would save them or buy them so I always had them to play with. When I got to school age I used them to make french skipping bands. Her makeup and jewellery was a stash of glamour and I felt a sense of naughtiness playing with them I know not why! This memory has a touch of irony as it was many years later I would powder her face and pencil in her eyebrows, after she could no longer do this simple task for herself. Something I recall daily as I pencil mine in. Like Nana I cannot see my public or go anywhere without my eyebrows and my red lippy.

She had a huge loom installed in her home, probably by the social services or invalidity people, to help her keep moving her limbs. She would then have been about fifty - jeez my age now- and living with grandad (Harry see Moannie) I think I instinctively knew all was not well between them, but this post is about my memories as a child and he was always kind and gentle with me. He would bring home fish and chips for us all as he ran a fish 'n' chip shop and his fish and chips were always very tasty. I would sit and eat with them and watch Crossroads, a uk soap from 60's and 70's. He would give me threepence or sixpence or a small 2penny bar of Cadbury's chocolate, covered in blue foil, he'd tell me stories of how he lost some toes, or l'd marvel at his huge earlobes, which he told me had ha'pennies in them. This the man that was horror personified to my mother, so out of respect to her I won't post any images of him.

Nana would sometimes collect me from school in her three wheeled invalid electric car. She would tell me to get in quick and get down low as it wasn't allowed as she didn't want to lose her licence, the car was probably the only small amount of freedom she had left to her. I remember when I had nits and my long hair was cut off, my mum and Nana sat picking at each others locks. Often we would shell peas together or peel spuds.

It's weird what a young child picks up, I was aware of an atmosphere when my parents were around Harry, but I was never affected by it. Of course I now know of my mothers childhood, of her unhappy time in the orphanage, how her mother could not cope, but I also know as an adult, wife and mother, it isn't really for me to judge, we all make our choices and our mistakes.

As her condition deteriorated ( I believe she was diagnosed in her late 30's) she was no longer so mobile and unable to do things easily for herself and Harry. I'm not sure of the how and why exactly but it seemed to me Harry couldn't or wouldn't cope and she was of no further use to him. Nana was admitted to a NHS hospital/institution for the old and infirmed - she was only in her mid 50's and she stayed there for 3-4 years . It was awful for my mother to see her in there, a woman who still had some use in her arms and hands.A woman who was still a vibrant force and character and only hospitalized because she was -a at that time- partially paralyzed, but couldn't take care of herself and apparently noone to take care of her. Awful for her also, as many of the women in her ward had dementia or worse. I remember my mother was always fretting about her while we were in Canada/Mexico, always checking the post hoping for a letter from her.

When we returned from Canada/Mexico and my parents bought a 'Home for Gentlefolk' . It was here Nana, now 57, had her own large room, her own nurse and my parents could provide her with the care she needed.

As I got older Nana and her room was my sanctuary, where I went when I was in trouble, when I wanted to have a chat or just to be some company for each other. Later, I rented a room in a house opposite - I didn't move far from home when I left - and I could see her room window from mine, it was the first thing I looked at when I woke up and the last thing at night and quite comforting. I would take me friends and boyfriends to see her and she would sparkle and even flirt a little, they were always moved and touched by her personality and apparent joy of life even in her circumstances. She enjoyed the cricket (!? go figure) Come Dancing, her gramophone and her books were still a passion. She was full of love and praise for my mother and always grateful to my father for giving her a home and she wouldn't hear a thing against them, though she would listen to my teenage moaning and groaning with sympathy. She was a confidante and she would regale me with her dancing stories, I do wish l had written them down. I remember her tales of her standing very still on stage, as she posed nude but for a flesh covered bodice, other times bare breasted but she couldn't move but for the Lord Chamberlain slapping a banning order and closing the theatre. She told me she was an early partner of Victor Silvester and she danced in many a chorus line.

When she was almost totally paralysed from the neck down, I would sometimes help with her 'toilette' and I was so amazed by the condition of her legs. They were a pure white, like alabaster, blemish free and amazingly toned in appearance and so long. Her feet were baby soft and her knees like little buttons. She had gained a fair amount of weight, as the then treatments were cortisone/steroid based, so her face was wrinkle free and her eyes sparkled with a naughtiness that would make me smile and very curious. Her room, from which she rarely left, as it was difficult to lower her to ground level, and then push this quite heavy lady around in a fairly basic wheelchair. It happened occasionally, but not latterly. I'm sure she wold have had more equipment and entitlements available to her these days.

There is one truly astonishing fact to tell about my Nana and that is I never her heard moan about her situation once, nor did I hear of it second from the staff. Itwas hard to understand why she had Multiple Sclerosis, but I do recall her saying she thought it viral and that was why it was difficult to understand it. She always said she had had her fair share of fun, frolics, love and drama and she said she had no real regrets. I think that shows incredible bravery, courage and a tough 'get on with it' survival instinct. That is something all my grandparents seem to have had in common and I'm thankful that I have it too!

It's September...

2010-09-05T00:17:00.001+01:00

and I can smell the change in the air. The wind has an edge to it, cutting into the end of August.

The new month when school is back. A new term. The kids and life is structured again. A semblance of control within the loosely organised chaos.

When I was a school kid, I looked forward to the new school year. Each new term. The new start. The wiping of the slate and the turning over of the leaves. I felt I had another chance to do it well. To do good. As an adult I miss the having of new beginnings. I have to forgive and forget myself. We all tend to ring in the changes at New Year. A celebration which always leaves me cold. Cold as the winter. Too bracing to embrace the new.

Autumn is a time when the trees wear a brightly coloured coat of an orange, brown, yellow and gold mosaic. A dream coat. They drop their technicolour leaves. Divesting of the year long journey. They stand naked and vulnerable in the wind and rain. A rebirth. Renewal. Reinvention. In the humdrum of routine. The monotony of the familiar. The everyday.

Welcome the opportunity in our life of adulthood, to do better with each and every new day.

(written a year ago....the song remains the same huh?)

Revisiting - Only Yesterday

2010-09-02T17:33:00.003+01:00

(June 2009)

It was only yesterday you would run to me when you were upset or hurting. It was only yesterday you held me tight. Rib crackingly tight. For no other reason than that you felt like it. Only yesterday would you share every discovery. Every happiness. Every fear. Every dream. Good or Bad. Every new step. Each fall.

Was it only yesterday you kissed me goodnight for the last time. Telling me gently, but firmly. It wasn't necessary any longer. My heart missed a beat. It isn't? Where is that written? Show me. I wish to silently protest. I'm not ready. Not yet.

I think it was only yesterday when I listened furtively for your each sleeping breath. One to follow after another. So then I too, could breathe.

It was only yesterday you tied your shoes. You buttoned your shirt. You zipped up your coat. First times. By yourself. Beaming with pride. You. Me.

This week you have been on work experience. You've been surprised by the joy and the satisfaction you felt. A class of six year olds called you Mister Watson. Three little giggling girls told you through trembling hands they loved you. A boy asked you if you could be best friends. Life learning. Experience. It has begun.

It was only yesterday I stood paralysed and cold. My eyes following your every step. Every fall. Trip and tumble. On a frozen concrete playground. I stood. On duty. Seemingly, ignoring each other. Balancing the thin line. Secretly comforted by each others presence.

Only yesterday you played in your band for a parents 50th Birthday. I watched you try to hide the emotional squirms and flinches. You asked if we were going. I knew we could not. It is your time. (shhh! I can catch you on youtube)

Your wide dimpled smile sits comfortably in your malleable face. Daily it appears to morph towards manhood. Giraffe like you saunter. Finding you way. Over six foot you tower over me. Man child.

Next week you go away with your history class to WW1 Battlefields in Europe. To the Somme & Ypres. Then a few days later you leave again. For the Duke of Edinburgh award trials. Overnight. Four lads. On the Lakeland fells. Alone. Now I squirm and flinch. My skin itches. I waken suddenly from my thin sleep. My mind is pacing. Across the ceiling. Back and forth. Your bed is empty. Your room is still. My hands sweat and I blink back tears. I try to swallow the fear. My throat tightens. My breath catches deep in my heart.

How do I let go? This is the hard part. The part I have kept boxed away. How not to see them. Nor touch them. Not to reach out every day. I will dehydrate. I will shrink. Visibly smaller. I am less. Lost. To thirst for the smell of them. To breathe them in. Let them go. I know. I must begin. Or else they will tug and pull and rip themselves from me. I am told they will return.

I will sit on the periphery of their lives. On the edge of my own. Watching. Wanting. Waiting. For morsels and cake crumbs. I will drink deep from the well of memory.

She is seventeen. He is almost fifteen. How fast it goes.

And it was only yesterday...

(..and how it has changed in the 12 months since l wrote this post,
if only l had known, would anything be different now?)

The Halls of my Yesterday

2010-08-30T17:01:00.003+01:00

When reading someone's latest post, I often feel that they must have been inside my head and written out my thoughts for all to see! But in a more succinct and beautiful way than l ever could. Some time ago the wonderful Erin posted about our yesterdays and talked about living with one foot in the past and one in the present.

I let her post wash over me. I questioned myself and then l sighed. I inhaled her words.

I felt that she had walked the halls of my yesterday.

I do seem to live with one foot in the past. I tend to hanker after a simpler life, a world where I felt safe and sound, without a whiff of responsibility. Although I surround myself with furniture and bits and pieces I feel I can't part with. This is I think the way I fill the hole inside, it may replace the missed feeling of security that we children have when young and are rotected by our families, by our environment and by our parents. Some of us have been lucky enough in this world to live with the two parents who gave us life and in the bosom of a 'happy' family life.

Those early summer days and evenings, were often spent wandering aimlessly but happily along the small lanes,the soft downs, the beaches and the coastline of my childhood. Talking with strangers without fear, nothing innate or infected to make us wary.

Just passing the time alone, with siblings or friends or with friendly elders. Being offered a sweet and accepting without hesitation or inhibition. Then come the Saturday nights at the disco's, the hoping, the yearning, the excitement of not knowing. The anticipation of the unknown, the temptations laid bare, innocently ignored.

I know this to be true, whenever I see my folks on one of my almost quarterly visits down to the 'homeland', I can relax totally. I can breathe without any sense of worry over the kids,-as their father is with them and if he isn't he wouldn't be fretting the way l do!- I can go to sleep without a care, for a few days. My Dad has checked and locked up the house, I needn't double check it. I don't have buy or prepare any food, no need to do a wash, to see to the dog and all that whilst being as a wife, mother and employed house-frau dictates. I can just be a daughter and for that all I need do is relax and breathe deeply of the soothing waters of mother and father.

I believe this is a healthy activity, the appreciation of things past, their value and their position in a time and place. I do not feel it is maudlin, nor melancholic, although not to confuse, it can have a tendency to be emotional. When I hear a certain song or tune unexpectedly, I do sometimes find that my throat tightens up and I feel it raw with emotion, the tune riding my mind and breaking free, a hidden memory of a day when I was free from wisdom, knowledge and experience. The lost innocence of our childhood cannot be regained. It's intense magic stored away until our own children are drinking of our well, we relive it through them and it tastes just as fresh and oh the clarity! It's value is then appreciated fully now we are long grown, we then fill up with a longing for the simpler times.

Regardless of our age, our decade or our journeys, I'm sure many of us feel that getting older isn't all it's cracked up to be!

p.s. I am enjoying this third period of my life, it is just that being a grown up is really tough and hard work, you know!?

Running on empty...

2010-08-27T16:37:00.002+01:00

I am empty

At first I couldn't sleep, then l couldn't read, now I fear I cannot write. I have ideas for new posts everyday, but I cannot seem to string the words together in an appropriate fashion. I ask myself if this is another phase on my road of 'recovery'. I don't know and to be honest I am just going along with this and I have given up looking for answers. It is exhausting, all these questions, most of which I know I will never find their truths.

So, as I have been reading over previous posts. Some are quite interesting and telling and perhaps prophetic in their honesty. In their innocence in terms of how, when and why I wrote them, back then. Rather than leave this blog alone as a wasteland , I have scheduled a few posts which now speak to me on a new level, with a deeper relevance and resonance than when they were first written.

I hope those of you who are more recent visitors here enjoy them, and for those of you who dread 'repeats', l ask that you bear with me...

...as the man says, back soon with better stuff!

Healing Powers
originally posted 11 November 2009

I have been pondering over our personal healing powers.

The inner strength, we all have. We find it deep, deep within us. Often at times, when we would least expect to dredge up another vat of determination and energy.

Other times it is within the things we cling to when we are in need of succour and comfort. The things we collect or unwittingly keep beside us. Around us. We feel secure within the blanket of our own surroundings. A haven.

This shoring up of personal warmth, that keeps the fear at bay and our sanity in a suitcase by the door.

The shopping bags of cheap tricks, to sustain and fill us when relationships sour or times are hard.

Our personal favourites. Our hot water bottles of love.

Casseroles, chunky soup and bread, chocolate.

Smells pungent of memories.

A tray set with a pot of tea and antique cups and plates. To warm.

Crackling fires, a seat by the hearth,

gazing into the flames of a sunset, that lasts as long as it is fed.

To me, healing powers are in meals, prepared with love by family

food which is a constant friend. Or foe.

The clutter that chokes our homes, spills from the drawers, vomits from the shelves

but which serves to warm our hearts, effuse our minds, confuse our hearts,

we choose the wallpaper of books and other detritus, which fixes us

to the floorboards of our daily lives.

The books read and kept, are friends that we cannot bear to part with,

they are like the memories that hold stories of love, strength, misery, fear and hope...

and so we hold onto the physical, as well as the emotional warmth.

Happy Birthday Moannie!!

2010-08-25T12:13:00.002+01:00

It's Moannies Birthday today!

Hope you have a relaxing day and Dad/JP spoils you to bits!

HAPPY BIRTHDAY MAMA!!

Saz & Moannie c1961

eat, pray, love

2010-08-14T14:35:00.006+01:00

I have had the book, 'eat pray love' by Elizabeth Gilbert by my bedside for the past year or so, after watching an interview with the author on tv. I was immediately drawn to her story; a combination of heartbreak, separation, divorce, her spiritual search and her love of food!

I began to read it and immediately found it was resounding within me with such accuracy, especially the eating section!

Then came the run up to Christmas, all the prep, the festivities and my work and l put the book aside as l knew l didn't want to devour it block buster or bonkbuster style. I wanted to breathe it in slowly, with concentration and thought.

Then, soon after the new year I came to a place where I found I could no longer read, at all. I am still in that place. Although the road has taken many twists and turns, six months later I still cannot read even a magazine article I just lurk and read the images and titles.

As well as the book on my bedside, which haunts me every time l glance at it. I have also been given a copy of it by a friend who told me,
'Read it. I thought of you as I read it and it will speak volumes to you' and even my Counsellor pulled it out of her Mary Poppins style bag held it out to me and said,
'This book will help you. I recommend it to you.'
Serendipity. Fate. Destiny. God. Happenstance. Intervention. I am so meant to read this book.

But I still cannot read.

And l continue to visit book and charity shops and libraries and I return home with armfuls. Only to trudge back wearily to the library returning them again and again. As a voracious reader this in itself is torture. Last week, in the library browsing for something to open this closed door to the wonders of my book land, l noticed a new stand of MP3 audio books. A small unit that is preloaded with an audio book, no cd's to juggle or upload. And there it was 'EAT PRAY LOVE'.

I excitedly ran home with it. I lay on my bed in my now solitary bedroom, suffused with the beloved possessions, art work, prints and books which speak to me and feed me; l closed the curtains and I added my earphones and turned it on. I picked up my copy of the book from my bedside table and started from the beginning.

The words sprang to life, I began to take the words from the page and they stayed within me, instead of flowing right back out again as they have been for the last ten months or so. Like the author's journey of recovery and renewal, her words and her ability to communicate with humour and truth drew me right in again. This time it isn't just her love of food and it sensuality that speaks to me, it is the entire book; which is a fountain of light, wisdom and hope.

As l lay in my bed, snuggled down with earphones in and book propped up on my thighs, I notice the pencils marks and comments in the margin from the last time I started to read it. I wonder! Did l stop reading before the split with Larry, because something within me was precipitating these months to come? I know so. Since my life changed in February l have ridden on a storm of shock, adrenaline, coping and then BANG l hit the 'bathroom floor'. My doctor signed me off work and for the first few weeks l fought it, but now l have relaxed into it, I find I have made such progress I am actually quite pleased with myself.

I have now turned a corner; crossed a line; perhaps even begun on my new path. Understanding, breaks the shell of confusion and conflict into the core of resolution and forgiveness. Thus opening up a path towards tomorrow.

Many issues have not changed since February mostly in terms of the practical and logistical. But I have come to realise that acceptance on some levels is achievable. On other levels it is so innately woven into the core of my being that I am sure they will remain with me always, although hopefully on some lesser level of sorrow.

I feel like this book is a friend who is helping me understand more of what is happening to me! Although at 52 shouldn't I know this already? Heck, why should I!

I have finished the 'book' and I am slowly moving through my own journey.

I am not lonely.

I am most certainly not alone.

I have just heard today that this will shortly be released as a film, hope it isn't too Hollywood!

Introducing Rumer

2010-08-05T08:40:00.000+01:00

Last week as we were driving home from the IOW, this tune was playing on Radio 2 on Ken Bruce, I was mesmerised by the melodious, crystal clear voice which immediately reminded me of Karen Carpenter...

I have just found it on Youtube and the song is her/their debut single to be released 28 August

I hope you like it....I luv it!