Beekeeping ,day one, was really quite a pleasant surprise!

The proximity of the beach to the hive didn't dawn on me until I dropped R off.
There was no time to achieve anything of real value before I had to collect him, so I spent a most welcome hour soaking up the sun and the gentle sounds of the wind and waves and birds and absorbing the glorious colours of the ocean.
I love the patterns in the rocks and the battered boat resting close to shore.
Time to muse... a problem shared with the right person certainly makes a difference and it was a much more relaxed me that contemplated life and my small family as I sat waiting for his return.

So far noone has been stung, and we are looking forward to tomorrow.
I have the map of where to go and have worked out the nearest beach, just in case the weather is favourable and there is nothing else pressing to do...

The final countdown...

All the school books are now home, desks emptied, we've had the introduction evening for the new school and each day there are more good bye activities... more endings, while the light of new beginnings glimmers brightly beckoning in the wings...
today is the talent show..
The talk is of who will be in whose class, which teachers they will have...and of the holiday looming ahead.
This week we promised ears pierced too... not quite a rite of passage but something akin to it I guess!!

Meantime R is on activity week.... and I hold my breath as I say... beekeeping.... I hold my breath and we wait to see... I do trust the school know exactly what they are doing ~ it's him and not me thankfully - you wouldn't get me in one of those white hooded suits messing with bees for anything...!!

It's time for slow calm breathing...

perhaps we'll get some honey out of it...?? :)

Oh, and in update, apologies, but please bear with me - I have enabled comment moderation - I don't want to put any of you off from leaving comments but it was something I felt I had to do - for now at least...x

The next step...

My initial training is over...:)
we have had danger, response, shout for help, airway and breathing till it's second nature...
The material was nothing new to me but it's good to have guidance on it's delivery and to have it drummed into you until it is second nature...

so when reference was made to this I had to look it up....
he always reminds me of when R had had his tonsils out and his were the only funny videos they had on the ward...



How not to do CPR :)

I think I won't be showing this to the children I am teaching later this year...

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

Quite a long time ago I remember reading children's thoughts on God.
Here apparently are some children's thoughts on love that arrived in my inbox earlier..

A group of professional people posed this question to a group of 4 to 8 year-olds, 'What does 'love' mean?'

'When my grandmother got arthritis, she couldn't bend over and paint her toenails anymore. So my grandfather does it for her all the time, even when his hands got arthritis too. That's love.'
Rebecca- age 8

'When someone loves you, the way they say your name is different. You just know that your name is safe in their mouth.'
Billy - age 4

'Love is when a girl puts on perfume and a boy puts on shaving cologne and they go out and smell each other.'
Karl - age 5

'Love is when you go out to eat and give somebody most of your French fries without making them give you any of theirs.'
Chrissy - age 6

'Love is what makes you smile when you're tired.'
Terri - age 4

'Love is when my Mummy makes coffee for my daddy and she takes a sip before giving it to him, to make sure the taste is OK.'
Danny - age 7

'Love is when you kiss all the time. Then when you get tired of kissing, you still want to be together and you talk more. My Mummy and Daddy are like that. They look gross when they kiss'
Emily - age 8

'Love is what's in the room with you at Christmas if you stop opening presents and listen.'
Bobby - age 7 (Wow!)

'If you want to learn to love better, you should start with a friend who you hate,' Nikka - age 6
(we need a few million more Nikka's on this planet)

'Love is when you tell a guy you like his shirt, and then he wears it everyday.'
Noelle - age 7

'Love is like a little old woman and a little old man who are still friends even after they know each other so well.'
Tommy - age 6

'During my piano recital, I was on a stage and I was scared. I looked at all the people watching me and saw my daddy waving and smiling. He was the only one doing that. I wasn't scared anymore.'
Cindy - age 8

'My Mummy loves me more than anybody. You don't see anyone else kissing me to sleep at night.'
Clare - age 6

'Love is when Mummy gives Daddy the best piece of chicken.'
Elaine-age 5

'Love is when Mummy sees Daddy smelly and sweaty and still says he is handsomer than Robert Redford.'
Chris - age 7

'Love is when your puppy licks your face even after you left him alone all day'
Mary Ann - age 4

'I know my older sister loves me because she gives me all her old clothes and has to go out and buy new ones.'
Lauren - age 4

'When you love somebody, your eyelashes go up and down and little stars come out of you.' (what an image)
Karen - age 7

'Love is when Mummy sees Daddy on the toilet and she doesn't think it's gross.'
Mark - age 6

'You really shouldn't say 'I love you' unless you mean it. But if you mean it, you should say it a lot. People forget.'
Jessica - age 8

And the final one -- Author and lecturer Leo Buscaglia once talked about a contest he was asked to judge. The purpose of the contest was to find the most caring child. The winner was a four year old child whose next door neighbour was an elderly gentleman who had recently lost his wife. Upon seeing the man cry, the little boy went into the old gentleman's yard, climbed onto his lap, and just sat there. When his Mother asked what he had said to the neighbour, the little boy said,
'Nothing, I just helped him cry'

When there is nothing left, that is when you find out that love is all you need.

don't even try to clip their wings....

sometimes I wonder if the whole of this life is about letting go...
letting go of all kinds of things.
Nothing we are given is ever for keeps
thats why we have to appreciate it when we have it

but I have also realised how belligerent I can become when faced with those who try to stop me letting go...
recently there have been a couple of occasions I have witnessed others trying to clip wings of fledglings ready to fly and it hurts so much...
I have realised how cruel it is.
however painful it is for us as parents, we have to do this, and I am amazed at the strength of feeling inside.
I do not want to lose either of them, but I am failing them on a very deep level if I don't let them try out their newly found wings and help them fly alone ~ I can't believe how hard that is ~ but compared to the alternative.. I don't see an alternative ~ not if I am looking at their best interests, and ultimately my own.
We are given them to let them go.

I hope they know their roots are solid.
I hope their cheekiness and cockiness to us in measured amounts and in good humour means they feel secure.

S is away in France this week with school
we hadn't expected to hear from her but she has just called..
said she was encouraged to, although we had been told they wouldn't...
mixed messages...

I worry more about her independence being taken away than her having it.

thats a 'wow moment' of realisation and one I have been preoccupied with lately...

perhaps it should be a reassurance that although we are never ready for these moments when they arrive, in fact we have no choice over them arriving - they find us and so ultimately we shouldn't worry about them. We can relax and enjoy what we have when we have it...



Now helping others to let go when we're struggling with it ourselves is a tough cookie... and such are some of our basic instincts that it can be hard to overcome.
When someone is being mean and nasty to your child it is hard to teach them the right way to deal with it... hard to always see the right way to deal with it...

I learned a lot from karate about discipline and controlling the urge to fight back...about defence and walking away...
walking away is a hard thing to teach.
Letting go is hard when you're young and fired up and hearing things that provoke, that are designed to provoke a reaction....
but if not reacting can be learnt early on then I am sure it prevents problems later on.

years can bring some kind of wisdom I guess but it doesn't stop the primal urge to defend those closest to you... to fight because you know you can, (and in truth it would feel so good to let the frustration out)...so it is important that the head really does rule the heart in some circumstances...

I imagine letting go will be a continuing theme in my thinking...

people only show their true beauty to the world when they are free... and secure and happy in their freedom to be themselves, free to express who they are and be accepted for who they are...

I want my children to be seen to be as uniquely beautiful as I know they are...

Hettie's guide to Nashia

I know, nothing for a while then twice in one day! :)

This morning I took Rocky the rabbit for his injections and while I waited I picked up the most wonderful book
"Hettie's guide to Nashia" by Sean Corlett, beautifully written, and fantastically illustrated.

I know I was almost reluctant to have animals because I knew they would die and we would be left with distraught children and at that time I had so much of it at work I didn't really want to have to deal with it at home too. I wondered about the wisdom of just not inviting additional unnecessary grief into our family. However, now, weighed against the benefits we have experienced I am pleased I ignored those protective instincts and the easier path and allowed the children to have their pets.

I know how beneficial books can be for children (and adults) trying to make sense of whats going on and so I was intrigued to find this gem, written about a dog who has died and gone to 'Nashia'. I wish I had had it as part of our library when I worked with bereaved children.

The only problem is it hasn't got an ISBN number and isn't listed anywhere I can find.
The vets were clueless about where it had come from, but it has a local printers label inside so I will try them...

and so I am writing about a beautiful book that deserves to be published properly and widely available...

I would want a copy knowing our pets will die one day in the not too distant future.

Makes me wonder just how many fantastic books are out there lurking, undiscovered, hidden treasures...

Silence...

curiously little to blog...
Many personal reflections, too real to be abstracted for this space, and by the time they can be, they will have passed
and other stories, which much as they impact my life, are not mine to share.
this space has been quiet, but life has been far from it
In some ways I find that strange, as I always imagined this would be somewhere that would reflect what was happening in real life, in my head, without necessarily being a diary...



It has however been glorious weather, which meant that when S was swimming on friday I was naturally drawn outside, finally coming to rest in a patch of sun at the foot of an old tree, slightly down hill and surrounded by the dappled sunlight from the neighbouring trees. The sea was visible through a gap in the foliage and the birds were the only ones chattering amongst themselves in my vicinity.
I breathed deeply and relaxed back, looking at the sky through the trees, watching the clouds moving on their deep blue background changing shapes.
For a while the world was peaceful....I was alone and noone could see me, a haven of tranquility amidst the chaos of friday evening. Even if they could see me I didn't care. Somehow the world makes more sense lying down...and even more sense lying down absorbing nature.
Half an hour later I emerged into the real world feeling like I had just discovered some huge secret, a sanctuary...
I had found a key that fitted, even if only for that day... that moment...

that space, that time, was mine. It was precious and peaceful and perfect.

An escape in the midst of chaos and noise.

looking for the heart of saturday night...

It wasn't forecast to be the easiest of weeks, friends and serious health problems and friends staying who we hadn't seen since the funeral earlier this year...
Fortunately it has been a whole lot easier than I thought it was going to be.
Our friend is going to be ok and the grief although still raw was helped by being able to hold and touch and talk and be together.
Physical presence is so powerful, and vital, a reassurance in the face of death which is just so final.
that's it - he's not going to be here physically ever again, not to hear or feel or touch.
finding ways to cope with the reality of that surely is a challenge...

I don't have any answers - seems I don't have any answers for much at the moment...too many difficult questions...

But it did make me think, because in some ways it's easy to think of ourselves as vulnerable and exposed and fragile, especially when there is so much out there to feel hurt by. It's almost easier to focus on our weakness than it is on our strength...

This photo takes me back to London, to smoky bars, late nights, a special group of friends, Guiness, whiskey and beer, and to Tom Waits, The The, The Pogues and other music which made for some thoughtful, interesting, wonderful evenings. Evenings that somehow helped me get through a couple of very difficult years.... made me realise we are all tougher than we think we are, but that we all need each other to reinforce our ability to put one foot in front of another - to keep on and not to give up... it's hard to believe in yourself if others don't believe in your ability too somehow...

It was good to stop for a while and to remind myself that actually there is a well of strength that can be drawn on when it's needed, it tends to lurk at the bottom whilst our weaknesses float to the top and stop us seeing so deeply... but we do cope when we have to.

In the event I didn't really need to draw from that well... perhaps it was enough to know it was there... and I am thankful for that.

I don't drink whiskey, but I can't get these lyrics out of my head from The Pogues... fond tough memories....


"I am going, I am going
Any which way the wind may be blowing
I am going, I am going
Where streams of whiskey are flowing"...

summer dreaming

The coo of woodpigeons reminds me of summer afternoons outside revising, sprawled out on the grass surrounded by books and drinks trying to absorb facts and quotes and details and longing for a time when exams were no longer a part of my life... when I was free to live as I wanted ~ to be adult seemed so magical, so wonderful, so unattainable.... so far away.

In the here and now, revision is over, exams are finished, the first full week of them has been and gone.... we survived - thats the whole family ~ it is a whole family thing.
We reached the weekend exhausted, needing to collapse and recover but instead momentum carried us forwards, and so we start another week flying!
Now we're counting the weeks until the sumer holidays and time to stretch out with a drink listening to the birds again...

before then summer concerts and school trips, activity weeks and swimming galas... Whoever said Summer days were lazy didn't mean these days!
I managed to miss sports day for S because it was called 'house athletics' and not plain old 'Sports day' so it didn't jump out at me and I had rearranged a training day which clashed with it...! The only sports day I have ever missed.
If only people would say what they mean instead of making it sound more than it is.

Hayfever has set in this weekend, which, together with some kind of sumer throat/ear thing which brings back memories from earlier this year, is stretching my patience which I really hate.

Too soon we'll be saying goodbye to junior school completely ~ thats a strange feeling...
a whole era.
Memories, fond memories thankfully...
it is very hard to process that fact - we live through it, experiencing it and then wonder where it has gone and where were we while it was happening? How can I have missed it happening?
How can I become more sponge like, more absorbent?

My life turns inwards when holidays approach - am looking forward to being able to do that this year without having to always be conscious of and attentive to the distractions of holiday makers around the place.

The quest for independence is being felt - mates calling round for bike rides, trips to the beach together without adults around., meeting up in town... the first steps on the road to not needing us around as much.
We work to let them go.... thats what we strive towards.... baby giant steps....
An invitation for S to go away with a friend in the summer. It would be a great adventure - almost famous five like I imagine... but one person has pulled out, so we'll have to wait and see. Enid Blyton may have been great to read but it's nothing to living it for real....

Our Summer is full and full of promise - it stretches ahead of us like a long and unspoilt beach waiting to be explored, waiting for the first footprints to be made, castles to be made, treasure to be discovered, dams and bridges, holes and steps to be made and dug...

adventures to be had...

the sun is out, suncream is on, hats in school bags... and the air is full of anticipation...

Reflection

Reflection...a word that has infiltrated my life at every turn ~ aswell as being and doing, I'm asked to reflect.... and to document my reflections every step of the way too.... so that (almost) no one area of my life can not be reflected on, dissected and scrutinised towards some certifiable end! The personal reflections are just as important as the rest of it I am told.


Shel Silverstein offered me these thoughts on reflection

Each time I see the Upside-Down Man
Standing in the water,
I look at him and start to laugh,
Although I shouldn't oughtter.
For maybe in another world
Another time
Another town,
Maybe HE is right side up
And I am upside down.


Who knows?
my distorted sense of reality likes that.

Friends...

We must not think that our love has to be extraordinary.
But we do need to love without getting tired.
How does a lamp burn?
Through the continuous input of small drops of oil.
These drops are the small things of daily life: faithfulness, small words of kindness, a thought for others, our way of being quiet, of looking, of speaking, and of acting.
They are the true drops of love
that keep our lives and relationships burning like a lively flame.
- Mother Teresa



Coffee with good friends this morning.... our girls started school together but then were separated when they moved up into year three and now there will be another change moving up yet again...
somehow though the adults have kept in touch and stayed friends... odd perhaps, since I never really did the outside the school gate chat thing very well...
somehow through the constant drip of contact, coffee and barbeques and meeting at swimming, odd afternoons spent together and sharing various crises over the years, we have formed strong bonds ~ this morning I realised, maybe stronger than I thought...
perhaps the constant drip is the key... both the constant and the drip together...

and then even from far away... an e mail from a friend in Japan that had me laughing as I read it.... no idea if we'll ever see each other again... almost seems impossible to imagine that we might not, and not something I want to imagine... we met when I was 14... again drips of communication over the many years have been enough to keep us friends despite the distance...

There isn't always time for much more than drops of friendship... however, they are more valuable over time than I had thought... and I think they provide a stronger foundation than I had realised...

the missing piece...

In the first side room on the left, as you walked onto the ward, a small child aged 2 1/2 with the most gorgeous caramel skin, soft and warm, reached his arms out for love to anyone who came in.

Arms wrapped tightly round my neck, beautiful silky soft curls against my cheek, brushing against my nose, his gorgeous scent infusing my brain with love, two souls touching, gently rocking, skin touching, one speaking words, both absorbing the feelings..

his reason for being in hospital ~ injuries inconsistent with the story given... burns that were self evident...

now he will be 18+...

I wonder what he is doing, how he is...

he was the reason I was going to adopt - regardless... plus a fear of the pain I witnessed of childbirth - thankfully it wasn't as bad as I had thought when I got there! But I do wonder how he is, what he is doing... how his life worked out?
As a vulnerable 19 year old, my thinking was changed, massively, by him...

thanks to Under the overpasses for reminding me of people who have changed my thinking...
a child too young to verbalise his own desires changed me - and still now I can return to those days...
so many people with lives and stories...
perspective.... some too painful to share here...


Wouldn't it be fantastic if you could keep hold of a perfect moment for ever?
The feelings, the scent, the closeness...
one of the reasons I don't want my kids to grow up....after a tough day they make it all, alright...
they have an individual scent on their necks, strongest behind their ears, which I could get high on. I wish I could bottle it...

arms reaching for you, holding tight... love in it's purest form...
My son is now as tall as me.. his hugs are amazing... they always have been...

nothing other than thoughts and memories...

Without people and stories I head towards books.....

that's what I miss....