A Pillow of Contentment

This place where I write. This place where I think. Is a place where my thoughts run freely. A place where they mingle. Where they congeal. And harden only to be picked over and reopened. In real time. My life in its sticky, chipped state. This is a place where I feel safe. My cave. A sanctuary.

This is a place where I first began to write my whimsical thoughts. Trite and funny anecdotes. I wanted to find a place to try to write. To write me. Find me. Write down in words this deep down voice. My feelings.

As an errant list maker. I often write things down. As is my want. List fashion. On post it's. A Swot analysis of my life stages. So far. What I feel now. Isn't what I felt then. This place helps get me through. To accept how I feel as I do. Now. Certainly stronger. More measured. I take time to think things through. Before I say them out loud. Most often.

I have always been in awe of how others write. Are able to write. Effortlessly. In the shadow of writings and art of my Mum. In this place there are Big footsteps to follow. Women in windows. Women in suburbia. Women of much importance. To place my feet upon theirs in the sand. To walk. Writing stories. Recreate my own. In words.

Caught in the gravity of life

Tendrils wrap around my ankles and hold me back.

A space of timeless insecurities,

Cling to the sharp edges of hope.

Bite into my fingers

the pain casts a light on a memory in the black

and l follow mournfully.

Upon the cake crumbs of tomorrow

my spine unfurls with each new breath.

My residency here began on 8th July 2008

I wasn't having a great year. Emotionally and personally. I was feeling crushed by the impending fifth decade. The walls were definitely getting nearer to each other. To say I was hemmed in would be an understatement. I knew that then. I know that now. Though if I do feel it now. I don't need to say so to the same degree. In my book that's progress. It is cathartic to write it down. I believe. It isn't all inside. Sitting still. Rotting. Causing damage. Once out there. It is being processed. Being dealt with.

Today is FFF's blog birthday. I haven't marked my other older blogs in the same way. I guess that's because they have a completely different function. They are not a personal journey in the same way. They are another slice of my life. This part of my life. Has become a life blood. Ritual.

Thank you for sharing your stories with me. Your light shining your inspiration. Upon me. For your wisdom. I thank you all. For your courage. Your talents. Your support. Your time. Your diverse interests and viewpoints. Your friendship. your words. Your inspiring stories.

We all have are our stories. We are our stories. Stories. Life.

First FFF post here

North & South

I'm sorry if you were expecting a review of the wonderful Elizabeth Gaskell novel or the also wonderful bbc adaptation - with the gorgeous Richard Armitage- this post is not about either. But here is an image to salve the torrent of disappointment.

But I have to get this off my chest. What is it about some bloggers, admittedly a tiny minority of those that have relocated. Mostly southerners that have moved up north. I mean specifically the blogs that people start up when they move to a new place. Willingly or no. They move lock, stock and several smoking barrels. 400 miles north. I find that some of them just moan and moan and moan.

Instead of getting out there into the community, they seemingly spend time, sitting in a darkened room huddled over a laptop. Not an ideal way to meet people. To ingratiate oneself with the locals. By southerners I also mean some Londoners or the counties in the general catchment area. To boot they also make the move not only from down south to oop north. They also make the change from career concrete high street designer label urbanity, to a far northern rural, remote, unsophisticated, in the main, (nought wrong with this, to me it is an added bonus) and probably a farming locale.

And l'm sorry but their blogs drive me mad. Taking the piss out of ooh aarhh farmers, mixing it with the shock horror- stay at home mother and toddlers; and oomm paa paaing their previous celeb' style sycophantic driven career existences, over the baa lambing moment of wonder.

Occasionally I read these and think well bugger off back to urban smogland then and take your blog, your designer wellies and Bodenite dressed toddlers with you.

Now as some of you know I'm from down south too and Larry (though Scottish) and I moved here cos we LIKE it, we LIKE the people, we LIKE the county, the climate? -ah well mostly, we like the ability to go out to the corner shop, yeah they have a few still oop here eh? I can go out without my eyebrows and lippy, well sometimes I can. I often wear a luminescent cagoule and elasticated trousers by day and I not feel the fashion police would be falling about as I went about my business.

I like buying from the town and farm markets From local producers. Supporting local business. I like this. I LIKE the county, the countryside, the city that really isn't a city by southern standards. I mean I can drive 3 miles in 3 minutes, unlike my former southern world which my 3 miles drive would take 50 minutes! I like the ease of life, the integrity, the shirt off your back friends, that are friends whatever. And so I don't feel the need to work on having handfuls of them. I find these bloggers to be disingenuous. I don't often see them commenting on other blogs, in fact rarely and in one case never, so consumed with I, me, myself, is she. I have even read some posts that are rants because one now 'famous' published blogger was dissed on the net. Oh dear what will happen to me now? Well if you will go looking. I have removed these bloggers from my reading list. I cannot heartily recommend them.

No doubt someone will come to their defense. But I am only speaking the truth as I read it.

Take 5 or 8

Another stolen meme from House of Lime, but go read hers they are always hilarious and mine are to real, the truth gets in the way! And i must do Fhina's or she will hunt me down...

5 Obsessions (currently speaking)

Gerard Butler or sloppy seconds from the lovely Lime

Artwork- art, sculpture, photography & its histories

1970's - yes I know that makes me an uber sad person in an orange nylon anorack and brown slacks with an elsaticated waist, but I had fun

Listening to music, I love my soundDock and ipods

Books, reading, holding, smelling, I don't leave home without one or three

5 Dislikes

Able people who save tables whilst their pal joins a long line in a full bistro/cafe...

Loneliness

Horror flicks, chick flicks, gross teen flicks, any with a diddly diddly C&W soundtrack

Teenagers messy bedrooms that smell of feet, for example

Automated telephone menus and call centres

5 things better than a head on collision

a 3 day labour which climax's (?) with an epidural that only works down one side, head to toe.. arrgghhhh. I was feeling full labour down one side whilst feeling and looking like l had a severe stroke down the other side.

A wet, windy holiday in a tent

Regular visits to a Gym

Nausea

Influenza - the female type not the male version

5 things worse than a head on collision

Drowning

Losing my eyesight

Anything bad happening to my kids

Losing a friend or family member

Afloat in a life boat in the middle of the Atlantic, well any boat really

5 wishes

Health & Happiness for my family. I guess that's two

Exhibit at the RA Summer Exhibition one day

Financial security for my family

5 more wishes, yeah l'm a cliche

8 things I wish I could do

Exhibit at The RA Summer Exhibition one year

Sing in tune

Dance - waltz, Rumba etc

be happier

Go to Art College

take a painting holiday in France, Itay or

eating EVERYTHING & ANYTHING and not put on an ounce as was before age 33

live forever

8 shows I watch

Without a Trace

ER

BIG ART

House

Antiques Roadshow

Masterchef

Life

The Book Quiz

8 things I am looking forward to

Singing in tune

More free time to make art, sculpt, draw...

exhibiting at the RA

having a bijoux place in France or Italy

travelling MORE

Understanding a Digital SLR camera

eating a meal enfamille without anyone getting hizzy, fizzy or dizzy. MMM's know what I mean

Reaching the grande olde age of 94

8 things I am grateful for

The good health of my nearest and dearest

My friends (yes that includes YOU!)

My Family

A roof over my head

Food in my stomach

Breathing

the Mexican nation for bringing us chocolate (well not in its present form but for starting the ball rolling)

my mum & dad

Photostory Friday - Early Summer Flowers

Hosted by Cecily and MamaGeek

Here in Cumbria we are usually between 2 and 4 weeks

behind the rest of the mid and southern counties.

And I am referring to blooms here in case I hear any smart comments!

I spent a lunch time trying to get some images

of the blooms around the garden home and at work.

Not sure I know what their specific botanical names are

maybe someone will know and tell me....

am not fmailiar with this one...

variegated rose bush

dogwood blossom

honeybee on a lunch break

lilac foxglove

pretty lilac bloom

another variegated rose?

my luncheon companion

running away when I moved as I picked up my camera

he came very close to me

?????

just a pretty garden scene in front of a Jacobean window

I can't wait to see what a new camera

a digital SLR will do for me

when we get it!!

Hosted by Cecily and MamaGeek

A cold shower

Today I noticed my Bonsai was looking sad

I think it may be the heat here, it looks very dry, so scorched perhaps.

It is well watered, the trunk is still green so it's not dead. Yet.

As my father has saved a leafless and lifeless looking Bonsai

by putting it in the garden and tending it,

I texted Mum asking for advice.

I told her it was so hot here I could barely move.

That is rare for Cumbrian weather and rare for me.

An hour later I received this text.

'Get into the shade. Sit in a tub of water overnight. With food. Will recover.'

I laughed my socks off!

DID she mean the Bonsai or me?

abc Wednesday X is for...

X is for

Xochimilco

During our time living in Mexico in the late 1960's and

then later during holiday visits in 1970's, we made some wonderful excursions.

Our Sundays were traditionally spent at the zoo, a museum, an afternoon in Sanborns, the cinema or if we were really lucky my parents and sometimes 'grandmother' Mamacita (little-mother) would take us to Xochimilco.

These are the famous floating gardens. These floating platforms/boats were decorated back in those day with fresh flowers. Then in 1980s they were decorated with paper flowers. These days unfortunately they are just painted boats.

There were floating kitchens selling tacos, enchiladas, quesadilos. Others selling flowers, native goods of magnificent silver jewellery. Other plied drinks, cacaquates and puppets and pinatas.

We would go for a 'punt on the canals, then sometimes we would be allowed to go riding. Then it was on a clearing amongst the trees, with gnarly roots and trunks every which way. It is not like that now. Health and safety issues and all that!

Once l remember my horse/pony broke into a gallop and he sprinted back towards home. I was frightened and thrilled at the same time and thanks to the wonderful western saddles I held on and didn't fall off ever!

We became quite proficient.

Horse riding was available at zoo's fairs and most attractions.

There was a colourful - like everything - in Mexico market and we bought traditional blouses and dresses. Tablecloths and t shirts.I remember being there with my best friend Patience in 1975 during the school holidays in our Junior/senior year- I went to go school i the states for a time. We flew alone, we were 16 and met my father in Mexico city.

We went to Xochimilco again, Taxco the heart of the silver trade, Cuernavaca

and a wonderful night seeing a performance of the Folklorico. Of which I will post another time.

I have been a lucky girl all in all.

(please note these are not my images, these are sourced from the net.

I hope that isn't cheating on abc wednesday)

For the home of ABC Wednesday, go to Mrs Nesbitt's Place.

A Mother's Battle Cry!

A Heads up to you all!

Now put away your broomsticks, sorry I meant to say brooms away, if you know where they are!

MAD MANIC MAMAS

After recent posts here and elsewhere in blogland,

some bemoaning teenagers and in some cases declaring distinct pleasure of mothering these terrorists, albeit momentary (do l feel a cheap joke coming on here, yes but I will refrain!)

TEENAGERS, teens, tweenies, that is what this post is about, so settle down now.

I have cogitated, plotted and taken the bull by the proverbials.

Horns not bollocks!

And I am really pleased to be able to tell you all, that I have,

with the help of Fhina - A woman of no importance (hardly not my dear!)

well we have produced a fledgling blog for the purpose and pleasure of

mothers, fathers indeed any carer or protector of the little buggers.

Or in my case a 6ft and 1/4 inch 14 year old and his hardassed, full throttled, full on, gobby 17yr old sister by day and Vampire Princess by night.

A place to rant or rave, a santuary to value or vent, a homestead to shout or salve or just a pillow to lay your head a while. A virtual tree house. Dreaming of being fed peeled grapes and er well whatever your heart desires. Now I am getting carried away. I think you get the drift.

We hope to share some Mojitos with you on these sultry summer nights,

with lashings of chocolate if that is your vice, I know it is mine....

and the meatloaf, well it's a bit hot for meatloaf this time of year... isn't it?

So Mamas, Mummys, Mothers, Mums, Moms, Mams,

Dads, Daddys, papas and pops come on by

and if you feel so inclined, write a post for us, just let us know and we will sign you up!!

MAD MANIC MAMAS

And....

by the way you don't have to look like this, all waspy, clean and shiny, with davinci veneers!

come over to my houseMAD MANIC MAMAS