Have done my best to treat it as ‘just another day’. And I’ve not done too badly: general self-care (shower, hair wash, food and drink – that’s a win); WhatsApp messages with the boys; yoga class; candle-lighting and a prayer for John in church; a visit to Pete and Dawn, where alcohol was served and a glass raised to the ol’ man; and a lovely WhatsApp video chat with Carol.
Other friends have texted and sent good wishes. All healing stuff and it all helps.
Meanwhile……. courtesy of Banksy, this is the current state of affairs.
Argh……!! This time last year John died and we scurried around sorting out his immediate affairs; which means, of course, that everything that we did back then comes up for renewal right now, all at the same time!! House insurance, car insurance and breakdown cover are all hard on each others’ heels, all on top of the recent October birthdays. And then there was Twickenham….
I’ve looked into the piggy bank and find just a couple of pennies rattling around in there. I wonder if there’ll be enough to send to Santa for the Christmas presents?? Hmm……. don’t worry kids, I’m sure I’ll find some, somewhere!
John was the money wizard in our relationship. He used to say, ‘What’s mine is mine, and what’s yours is mine.’ And he was pretty creative with it all, so I left him to it. That pretty much summed us up.
But…. Ha! Now, of course, I’ve got to try and think for myself and sort out the money without getting myself in a tizz. ‘I am a capable woman’ is my current mantra and I am going to refuse to be bothered by something I know I can do. Just because I didn’t used to manage the money doesn’t mean I can’t, does it? Juggle, juggle, juggle – gulp!
Anyway, enough of that because, in other news, I have a gardener. I am not sure if I have mentioned this before but, one of John’s friends, Paul, called in recently, and suggested someone he knew. Oh, boy, such excitement! I have been waiting years for someone with horticultural and botanical knowledge to help me in the garden.
Viktoriia has been four times now and hoiked out tons of weeds; pruned loads of rose bushes and other shrubs; divided overgrown plants to spread the joy; and planted some flowers where the weeds used to be. Oooh, I’m in heaven! Pics may follow, but it’s dark now!
I got so excited the other day that I actually planted up some hanging baskets myself! (Woohoo…does a little dance). Viktoriia was impressed. And, what is more, I thoroughly enjoyed having a little potter. There’s lots of leaves to be swept up now which, in an odd way, I also enjoy. I have fond memories of Freddie helping me one year. That was really lovely. 4 years ago…… crikey, doesn’t time fly! Great memories, though.
Paul, Michael, Andrew and I headed off to Twickenham on Saturday, with hope in our hearts, to watch England play Australia. The rugby match itself was OK with quite a few thrilling passages of play and much singing of ‘Swing Low, Sweet Chariot’; and we were exceptionally excited when England scored a try and converted it in the 79th minute.
But, you know…. rugby being rugby, the game isn’t over at 80 minutes. It’s only over when the ball goes out of play and…. darn it! England couldn’t get hold of the ball for love nor money at the end, and Australia snatched a victory in the 83rd minute. What agony.
There was a feeling of general disgruntlement among our little group, as there seemed to be among many of the spectators. The boys had already drowned their sorrows mind you, having drunk multiple pints of Guinness throughout the afternoon, so I was surprised they had any emotions left to feel. I thought they’d have been numbed to the result, but no. There was still lots to talk about.
I had the answer, of course. Too much warm-up time. The poor boys in the England team were worn out by the time they started to play and had certainly had enough come the 79th minute….. I kept telling the coaches to take the players back to the dressing room a good half an hour before the match started, but d’you know what? They didn’t listen to me!! Pah! Can’t think why…..
It was a long day out, but it was good in many ways. We all raised a glass to John of course, in whose memory we had made the trip. We had a very good journey both there and back, courtesy of Paul, who was chauffeur. In the back of the car, Michael and Andrew were like they were when they were kids – chuffed to bits with a ‘tuck box’ full of edible and drinkable goodies, which amused Paul and me. We had an easy walk to the rugby ground too, as we parked very near Twickenham, in the Twickenham Masonic Centre. We raised another glass to John there, as well.
But, honestly!? Bunny ears!? I don’t think any of my kids’ll ever grow up!! Hehe!!
We all took some kind of memento with us, too. I wore John’s 2007 World Cup rugby shirt; Paul wore the scarf that he had bought when he took John to the rugby last year; Michael carried John’s little crucifix; and Andrew took John’s scarf with him and wore that.
Naturally, we had to have a photo of us all in front of the sculpture of the line-out as well….
I love my boys. Lucky me.
Meanwhile, back at the ranch, Danielle was holding the fort looking after the Junior Sleaths…… and they weren’t glued to the rugby, I can tell you!
Wallace and Gromit offered some sanity to the day, much to Danielle’s relief. And butter wouldn’t melt……
A memorable day, which is what we were after – even if it wasn’t quite the result we wanted.
I sit in John’s chair. I sleep on his side of the bed. I wear his hearing aids. I wear his T-shorts as nightshirts. I watch his programmes on TV. I rummage among his things and sigh. I hang my glasses on his glasses stand….
I look at the green bin that languishes half-way up the path and, in my mind’s eye, I see him resting on it, his shoulders heaving to catch his breath as he makes his way back from the Man-Shed.
I sit at his computer and am befuddled. What was the password again? I look at photos of him in years gone by and send them to the kids.
I use John’s tools to drill holes, screw in screws, hammer home nails, sand down wood, glue stuff together, winkle things out, mend things. I stand in the garage and look at the Lotus. I talk to him. And I cry when someone asks me how I’m doing.
Meanwhile, and in between times, I hug my sons hard. We remember the ol’ man daily. I help with the grandchildren and giggle a lot.
I go on holidays with the family and revel in their company, whereupon I thank the Lord for amazing familial relationships.
We celebrate birthdays which come at this time of the year all of a rush. My birthday is coming up – and John’s birthday would’ve been this month, too. I sleep on the new mattress that we ordered just before he died, and which arrived too late for him, but on his birthday. Ha!
I stay with friends and enjoy their company, too. I visit them for coffee, tea or a meal; and they visit me. My friends hug me with compassion and phone me, text me and keep in touch.
I go for a swim or a walk, and take a yoga class or two. The very act of movement helps.
I pet the pets – Chester: now very elderly, who barks at me whenever I arrive at Michael’s, and who refuses to shut up until he’s been fussed and fussed; and the pups: Marmaduke and Mabel, who wriggle and squirm and insinuate themselves onto my lap and look at me with adoring eyes.
I write my blog and find it cathartic.
See? It’s not all bad. A year on, and there’s some comfort in the things I do, whether I’m by myself, with the family or with friends. Weaving the daily distractions in with the remembering makes it bearable. Much of the time.
An early birthday present from Graham and Gail set me off this week though. When we were on holiday I lost my pashmina to much heartache. But look at that! It is now replaced. Gosh, what a lovely, lovely gift and such a moving message.
But one thing I hold onto every single day is the thought that John loved us all, as we did him.
He wrote a note before he died to let us know that he knew ‘it was time’. He told us to remember how important family is, and added: ‘Your love will be with me forever, and mine with you.’. Can’t say fairer than that, can you?
This time last year, on the first Sunday of November, John had wibble-wobbled out of bed, stood very unsteadily in front of his chair, given a sheepish grin to Andrew who was hovering, and then had sunk gently into it and closed his eyes. Andrew and I had looked at each other and were of the same mind. “Let’s get you back into bed, Dad,” Andrew said softly, as we proceeded to help the ol’ man back up into his bed.
Andrew had attempted to administer some medication, but John’s lips, like his eyes, were firmly closed. We knew what was coming, and for the next three and a half days, the boys and I kept vigil. But it was on that Sunday that I had looked into John’s eyes for one last time. He hadn’t quite known where he was or what he was doing, but there was sheer trust in his eyes as he looked at me and Andrew. For which I shall be forever grateful.
A year on and I have been trying to keep up with the regular events of life as they happen. They have helped to keep me on an even keel and overcome the loss of such a vibrant, full-on, sometimes brash, forever opinionated and loveable man.
So re-wind to last weekend, when it was yet another birthday. Andrew’s this time and….how old is he? Crikey, my baby is thirty-five! Of course, we had to celebrate and have a family meal. What with one thing and another, it wasn’t that simple – the team had other things going on and we had to plan around events. So, it was a lunchtime roast this time, which everyone thoroughly enjoyed.
Here’s a fitting photo…… you can’t keep Andrew out of the kitchen, can you!!?? Mind you, he doesn’t look too happy – I wonder if I cooked the rib of beef right?
After lunch, I sped off up to church where there was a Service of Remembering, which I found very comforting. I’d requested an anthem, which the choir sang well, and John’s name was read out. We held moments of silence as we all remembered our loved ones. There was a solidarity in the sadness somehow.
Back home, while I’d been out, the children had decorated the porch in readiness for Hallowe’en. This has come to be a bit of a tradition, and I was thrilled with the result. So were the Trick or Treaters! They thought it was fab!
I didn’t think too much about it then, but on Hallowe’en itself, as I answered the door to the costumed and maquillaged children, their eyes expectantly turned towards me for a treat offering, I remembered this time last year. The ol’ man was laughing at me and teasing me as I dashed to the door every five minutes. “You enjoy this more than the kids, don’t you?” he’d said. I’d nodded, cos it was true. That memory is a lovely one, but it hurts a bit.
There’ll be more poignant memories to come as the anniversary of John’s death comes and goes, of course, and the festive season approaches. But I wouldn’t want to forget. We had lived and loved, fought and reconciled, laughed and cried together for just over 56 years. I want to remember it all.
Take care everyone. And may God bless you in whatever you are doing and whatever circumstances you find yourselves in.
I love a weekend en famille.There is nothing that soothes the soul more than time spent amongst the free-spirited youngsters and the beautiful grown-ups that my sons have become.
We started last weekend with a trip down to Luton where Gloria was holding her ‘Birthday Bash’. Paul drove all of us in his brand new car, with the exception of Harriet and Danielle, who were under the weather and not up to it.
The pleasure we took in each others’ company on the way down the M1 was prolonged, however, as we hit a long line of traffic, all queuing behind a pile-up somewhere further along the motorway. We’d intended to arrive at the venue about 14.30 – and we were on track. Then we weren’t. Oh! ETA: 14.50. No worries, we’d still arrive in time. Delay expected? 6 minutes. 5 minutes later and the delay was still expected to be 6 minutes! Eeesh….. ETA now just after three o’clock. Sit down for the afternoon tea was 3.p.m. “Shall I text Gloria to tell her we’ll be late?” I wondered. Paul nodded. ETA now 15.15….. ‘OK’ she replied, seemingly unperturbed.
We finally arrived and sat down for a very welcome cup of tea and some sandwiches and cake – and a bouncy castle! Oh my, I was a nervous wreck. The last time I’d been party to a bouncy castle with all the family was at Paul and Harriet’s wedding when Ellie fell and broke her arm. I foresaw all sorts of possibilities. I mean, just look at those tangled limbs!!
As it turned out there wasn’t anything too bad. Just a bit of a bloodbath as William’s nose encountered Thomas’s face as they jumped together, and a nosebleed ensued. The white serviettes turned crimson; William’s trousers blossomed, cerise patterned, from top to bottom; the floor was dotted with carmine-red splodges; and there was a wailing that bothered our ear drums.
Anyway, despite the ‘to-be-expected’ injury, the afternoon tea went down nicely and I’m pretty sure Gloria enjoyed herself. She even had a little bounce, too! Brave woman!!
She survived the bounce and made it in one piece to cut her cake – with a little helper, of course! Alexander was on hand to help Grandma – just in case she couldn’t manage it by herself.
The following day, Sunday, our family fun continued with a roast dinner in the afternoon to celebrate Danielle’s birthday. She made an effort at the dinner table but she wasn’t at all well and had spent much of the afternoon wrapped up in a blanket on the sofa. Bless. She even had to get Oliver to blow her candles out….
At the end of the day, we had had a wonderful time – the kids, especially. I could tell that they had enjoyed themselves because there were pieces of paper all over the computer room where they’d been experimenting with the hole punch.
I could tell that we had enjoyed ourselves because there pots, pans and glasses all over the kitchen, all itching to get into the dishwasher. Paul had carried plates and cutlery into the kitchen and managed to stack most of it into the dishwasher, but there was a surplus.
Michael stared helplessly at the mess, saying, “I’m sorry we’re leaving everything but…..” he didn’t need to say any more. The crockery would find its way into the dishwasher in due course. There was nothing more to do. We turned our backs on the kitchen chaos and enjoyed each others’ company for the rest of the visit. That’s what it’s all about, isn’t it? The kids, of course, the carnage and the clutter?
I love this time of the year – it’s all birthdays, birthdays, birthdays!!
The season kicks off with William. I was on ‘me hols’ when he had his birthday so I missed the celebrations, but not to worry, he had a great time with his friends at his Lego Party. I had made a small contribution to the Lego submarine he’d wanted, and he was up at 6.30 a.m. the following day apparently, cracking on and getting started….
…..and by lunchtime, it was finished!! Amazing, aren’t they, these kids and their Lego?
As I got back from my holiday at the end of September, we celebrated Christiana’s 40th birthday. A family get-together at Christiana’s house where the little cousins, along with the grown-ups, could go crazy and thoroughly enjoy the festivities; and then, in the evening, a pub get-together with all her mates – which I gate-crashed. Here are the little cousins going crazy……hehehe!! There’s nothing so absorbing as somebody else’s toys, is there?
The afternoon event was lovely – just gentle, which suited my mood – and the weather was good. I wasn’t up for a really big bash! I’d arrived back from Athens the day before, and went on to Gloria’s where she very kindly put me up overnight ready for the day of the party. Lovely to catch up with everyone and see the grand-nephews.
Gloria, of course, made the cake…..which was beautifully decorated and delicious, as always.
The Kenilworth contingent made it to the party, with the Newbies – much to the excitement of the children – arriving and going home via multiple trains in the afternoon; and the Originals travelling down to the evening event, so I was able to cadge a lift home, much to my excitement cos they’ve got a new car!!! Nice to be driven home in luxury!
Michael’s birthday follows in mid-October, with Danielle’s hard on its heels. I know we can always guarantee warmer weather for a day or two at this time of the year. Michael’s birthday, warmth weather-wise, has never let me down yet! It was a nice day here in the Midlands. However, with the current weather systems in place, it apparently absolutely threw it down with rain as he and Danielle travelled to Wales to celebrate their birthdays in style at the Ynyshir Restaurant in Wales where Andrew works.
It transpires that they had a grand old time while they were there and were thrilled with the experience though – absolutely loving the food, drink and general atmosphere. They also enjoyed lodging in the Garden Room, with its mahoosive bathtub, log fire and rural view.
Andrew, meanwhile, was hard at work……. never mind, Andy, you’ve got a week off following your birthday in a week’s time, when someone else will be cooking for you!! Something to look forward to.
Of course, I was delighted to be able to look after the Kenilworth Newby children while Michael and Danielle were away. And with one extra for tea, we made a play date of it on Wednesday! The kids were all as good as gold and great company.
Naturally, the talk was all about ‘Daddy’s birthday’, so a cake had to be made. The children helped prepare the mix ready for the oven, and then rummaged to their hearts content in the cake decoration box – or, as Freddie would call it, the ‘Teddy Box’ – and absolutely went to town adorning the cake with icing, candles, a footballer, cars, banners, sprinkles and so on…… they had a ball!.
Daddy was pleased with his cake when he came home the next day to sample it though – mind you, it’s not clear what Oliver was thinking,…. hehehe….. It could be that he’s just zoned out, of course. He decided a nap wasn’t for him yesterday afternoon and he sat in his cot, chanting, ‘Nap! Nap! Nap! Not nap! Not nap! Not nap!’ Hmmm….. made me giggle.
Nipping in between Michael, Danielle and Andrew’s birthday, is Gloria’s. This year, she reaches the big Seven-Zero and celebrations are afoot tomorrow for another party. Another family get-together which is a very good thing. Got to make the most of it while we can, eh?
In a month’s time, it will be anniversary of John’s death. Naturally, my thoughts have turned back to those desperate months leading up to the event, in which Mum also died, when we made great efforts and put strategies in place to try and stave off the inevitable. And I’ve discovered that so far, time is not yet a healer. In fact, those Job’s Comforters around me like to tell me that ‘the second year is the worst‘. Cheers – thanks for that. I’ll gird my loins.
I’ve also discovered that the past year has revealed some amazing things (which I’ve probably described before – sorry): friends who have really stepped up to help me and keep me sane; family who have been there whenever I’ve needed them; leisureactivities which have kept me focused on something other than being bereft; nature that has such healing properties; poetry which I’ve always enjoyed, but now seems to have a deeper significance; and writing which seems to soothe the soul.
All of these things have been available to me for ever previously, but they have not always delivered such a punch that makes me acknowledge their wondrousness. Heightened and honed by bereavement, my eye sometimes sees things dulled and tiresome; and yet, at others, it sees those very same things as sparkling and interesting. The Big Dipper of life has never felt quite so intimate and close. But, I’m taking my time.
In amongst the hectic-ness of everyday stuff, such as another funeral, Prayer Group, Yoga, Quiz Night, Centre Stage (the Murder Mystery offshoot), coffee/lunch with friends, babysitting and so on, I am definitely finding time for some reflection and some down time in which I can addle my brain and (sometimes) prevent it from racing. I acknowledge that this is now my mantra: Take Your Time. I’ll let you know how I get on…….
Meanwhile, back at the ranch, Graham sent some holiday photos that he’d taken and which I think are smashing, so I thought I’d share – but beware!! I may share more another day because he’s taken some real crackers!!
Lunch in Dubrovnik…..
On the island of Lokrum. There were loads of peacocks – here’s one that took a fancy to Gail!
And here we are just by the gorgeous blue sea on that same island – I’d had a lovely paddle!
The Athenians seem to like a queue. At least, that was the impression they gave me at the airport on my way home from ‘me hols’ last week. First queue, of course, was to check my bag in. What a muddle. Priority line, or non-priority line? There was no difference. The customer service guy simply split the very large queue down the middle, whereupon I found myself in the queue into which every disabled passenger forged through to the head of it as they arrived.
One and a half hours later, I was finally through – Graham and Gail were shocked. They’d whizzed through their bag check-in, no problem. Ha! Ha! They were boarding their plane!
I wasn’t. There were no queues at the security desk or the passport desk but, guess what? There was definitely a queue at the gate, which turned out to be a twenty-five minute walk away from passport control. A really lovely lounge area with lots of seats, but nah!! They didn’t want to let the passengers in. Queue, queue, queue to even get into the lounge area, with boarding passes and passports to be checked again here.
I took the easy option and sat in the general lounge area to eat my sandwich until almost everyone was through – a good thirty-five minutes later. Not sure why we were herded in like sardines – because the plane was delayed, of course.
Apparently, Graham and Gail’s plane was delayed too, despite them being on it, which meant that they missed their connecting flight to Sri Lanka. Next flight? 2.20 a.m. Eeeeesh.
Before I noticed the inclination for the Athenians to insist on a queue however, Graham, Gail and I had had a thoroughly enjoyable time in Greece. Plenty to see and enjoy, despite one or two hiccups at The Moxy Hotel, like the thumpy-thump ‘musak’; no daylight in the rooms and no view; and disappointingly, no pool or sauna. Graham nicknamed the hotel: ‘The Poxy Hotel’………. I mean, the view from our rooms was a wall. Pretty enough, but not exactly what we’d been hoping hoping for – hehe.
We had arrived at our final tourist destination of Athens via Croatia, Montenegro, Albania and North Macedonia. We had a minibus, with seven fellow travellers, which suited me far better than the bun-fight I thought we might have had on a 50-seater bus. It has to be said though, that in every beauty spot we stopped at, so did a leviathan cruise boat-load of other 50-seater coaches – and our elbows got sharper by the day.
But honestly, these were all very minor inconveniences during the time we had together. We got on well, enjoying each others’ company, we saw lots of interesting historical buildings, learned about the evolution of every country we visited and ate some fabulous food.
And the highlights of the holiday? Main one was meeting up with Graham and Gail, of course! It was wonderful to be in their company and they were as kind as kind, and as witty as witty, could be.
Our first day visiting Dubrovnik is worth a mention. We had taken a tour of the walled city and planned to take the cable car to the top of the hill afterwards, but gosh! The coachloads from the cruise ships were also waiting, so we abandoned the idea temporarily and took a boat to Lokrum Island in the bay. This is a nature reserve which was so tranquil that it blew our socks off. There were gardens, a monastery, caves, beaches (we had a paddle) and a fabulous inland dead sea lake – as well as the Game of Thrones throne…….lovely. I did sit in it to sample it and here’s the photo to prove it!
On our return to Dubrovnik we thought we’d check out the cable car again – and wow! No queues now, so we clambered in and went up to the Panorama Restaurant for the views, cocktails, a bite to eat and the sunset. Absolutely stunning. We loved it and felt like a million dollars.
We could see the walled town of Dubrovnik and Lokrum Island as we hit the heights; behind us there were mountains inland that framed the bay; and then, of course, there was the sunset. It was super.
The next day we set off for Kotor — another walled town, this time in Montenegro. It was incredibly crowded, but very interesting, and I lit a candle for John in the Church of Santa Clara. The exterior of this church was incredibly plain but the interior was another ‘wow’ moment. Such intricate carving of the marble.
Not my photo, I’m afraid – this one is from Trip Advisor – but you can see the phenomenal carving of the curtain draped either side of the altar. It really looked like material, but was marble.
While we waited for Graham in the main square of Kotor, Gail obligingly posed for a photo in front of the Pillar of Shame. She’s a good sport! Apparently, if you had done wrong, you stood there and told everyone about it all day long. Gail had nothing to say! Hehe.
We now know, in modern parlance, that ‘being pilloried’ comes from this practice. See? I told you it was all interesting!
On to Albania next, where I found our stay mixed. The recent history of the country and the capital, Tirana, in particular, was distressing. We heard about the vicious communist rule, from post-war until 1992. It was fascinating to learn about it but I didn’t have the stomach for it, I’m afraid, and opted out of the bunker tour shortly after it had started. Too much blood and gore and injustice to think about all in one go. Shocking stuff.
Another highlight for me though, was the city of Ohrid, situated beside the lake of the same name in North Macedonia. The city, which houses one of only two copies of the Gutenberg press in the world, has an amazing history of different cultures – Illyrian, Phoenician, Greek, Roman, Slavic, Norman, Byzantine….. and, of course, the Ottomans and Christians – not to mention the equally amazing statistic of this small city once having had 365 churches – one for every day of the week!
We ate well here, overlooking the lake, and enjoyed the warm breeze from the glorious lake, bounded by mountains, as we walked along the shore.
For all of us though, I think, the most momentous sight of this Ancient Cities and Empires Tour were the rocks at Meteora, which emerged from the ground at an unexpected and massive height, and atop which monasteries and nunneries had been built. How they got the building materials, food and all other supplies up there blew our minds, and the whole site absolutely took our breath away.
I may not have had the best view from my room in Athens, but boy, I had the most fantastic view from my room in the Grand Meteora Hotel! Just look at that!
Naturally, the pièce de résistance of the tour was expected to be the Acropolis in Athens but, although it was fascinating and enjoyable to see, it didn’t have the same ‘wow’ factor as those Meteora rocks. Part of the polish was taken off the Acropolis because there seemed to be millions of tourists there – and I felt apologetic that I, too, was a tourist. More elbow sharpening was required…… but we did find a nice spot in front of the Parthenon for a minute or two.
I was thrilled, however, when the tour guide paused halfway up the steps to the top. She showed us the Areopagus, also known as Mars Hill, which is a rocky outcrop next to the Acropolis, on which Apostle Paul preached to a Roman crowd in 52 AD. More fascinating stuff. I love history.
On our last evening, we also enjoyed a rooftop view of the Acropolis. Once more, we succumbed to cocktails and a bite to eat, and generally indulged all our senses.
I think I’ve had a good week. I have been out visiting, been writing, helping a friend with her words for the Murder Mystery that we’re doing, done a spot of yoga, met up with two out of three sons and their families, chatted to other son via WhatsApp and, most amazing of all – I finished the jigsaw!!
Honestly, it was the hardest jigsaw I have ever done. Enjoyable in a challenging way and a real sense of satisfaction at having completed it, however. I did wonder, at one point, whether I might abandon it, but Pete encouraged me not to give up, so I persevered. Boom! Made it!!
On the visiting front this week, I went to see our former vicar, Father Peter, and his wife Sandra, on Saturday. A really lovely visit. So relaxed and very, very enjoyable – we chatted and chatted, ate and drank really well and had a lovely walk through the town of Evesham, where they have retired. “I’ll drive,” I’d suggested to the girl who came with me. “No, I’ll drive,” she replied, “I’m a nervous passenger.” Oh. Hmm – it turns out I’m a nervous passenger, too!! Eek! We made it there and back in one piece though!
I did an afternoon of ‘Writing for Wellbeing’ on Sunday, which was smashing. It’s never about whether you can write well or ill; it’s just about writing what you feel in response to some stimulus, such as a quote, a picture or a phrase, to provoke you into thinking of good things. Rebecca F. Kuang said: “Writing is the closest we have to real magic. Writing is creating something out of nothing, it’s opening doors to other lands. Writing gives you powers to shape your own world.” She’s not wrong. It was a couple of hours of losing myself in a different world altogether. Food for thought.
Not only do I seem to to have (nearly) broken my writing block, but also my reading block. I used to love reading but, for many years now, I’ve hardly been able to start a book, let alone finish one. However, one or two friends have lent or bought me books that they’ve thought I’d enjoy – and I have read them. Fabulous. I’ve even started reading about Van Gogh. Yippee!! There’s hope yet.
On a totally different note, we used to kneel for prayers in church. No longer. We sit, heads bowed, instead. The kneelers, so carefully and lovingly worked by members of the congregation in memory of loved ones, lay abandoned in a side room. For momentous events, like Paul and Harriet’s wedding and Paul’s confirmation, we searched high and low for the one I had made in memory of my Dad – because kneeling is required in those services – but to no avail.
But there’s good news! The kneelers are to be binned and have been shifted into the back of the church. “Have a look through,” announced the church warden to those gathered in church last Sunday, “to find yours to take home, if you like.” Well, yes perlease, I thought……. so I had a rummage and found it. Marvellous and fond memories of the love that went into that piece of tapestry, The Star of Bethlehem, because, as most of you know, I hate sewing.
Mind you, now I look at it in the photo, it looks like a couple of fried eggs on toast, doesn’t it? Hehe!! I bet you can’t un-see that now, can you? God bless.
