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Monday, 9 July 2012

Andy Murray is a hero


Andy Murray is a hero; I long ago forgave him for any brash youthful comments, long ago realised that some of those comments had been hideously misreported by a press keen to build on the myth of the Brit-phobic young Scot. Let's just take one of those supposed comments and put it firmly to bed. He is on the record as saying he would 'support any football team, as long as it wasn't England'...and yes, he did say that-but not in the way you think. He had just been asked by a hack if he supported Scotland in that years World Cup qualifiers, and as he rushed past on his way, he looked back and laughed that of course he would-as long as it wasn't England! It was a joke, a joke shared between two men; the sort of joke passed between friends up and down the land...especially if one of them comes from a different part of Great Britain to the other!

I repeat, Andy Murray is a hero; he has put up with the public sniping and sneering behind his back-and yet still expecting him to come out and win for them. He did not thrust the mike back at Sue Barker (the insensitivity of it!) and did his level best to talk, despite being engulfed by a tidal wave of emotion; we have all been there, at some point in our lives, desperate to talk, but overcome...very few of us will ever have to face that whilst being watched by millions. Andy rightly deserves every success that is coming his way; his commitment, his drive, his sheer talent will see him succeed...and now, finally...so will the love and admiration of everyone in Great Britain who witnessed what I believe will go down as one of the greatest finals in Wimbledon history.





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Location:At home

Thursday, 21 June 2012

Greetings on this Summer Solstice! The Bun Dance of Abundance approacheth!

In the semi-darkness of the approaching dawn, the watchers patiently waited; the slight breeze tugging at their clothes.

The stones surrounded them; towering monoliths carefully arranged by an ancient people in the distant past. The tension was palpable; the sun would soon rise, light rushing across the land from the horizon to the stones, warming the faces of the watchers and filling their hearts with fierce joy.

Thousands had gathered to witness the spectacle; they arrived in cars, coaches, camper vans, motorcycles, all eager to be a part of something that felt deeply spiritual, all wanting to be changed somehow by the experience. Some came wearing elaborate robes, carrying ritual tools to praise the old gods and goddesses of the land; some came armed with beer cans and loud music, there were dancers and drummers, every race, every creed, men, women, and children.

The sky was becoming lighter by the second, the sun on its endless journey around our solar system, keeping its promise to arrive at the appointed time.

Silence fell, all eyes now firmly fixed on the eastern horizon.

Silence was broken by the unnatural shrill of a mobile; harsh tones breaking the spell of ancient magic.

'Oh hi Ben, yes, I'm at Stonehenge; no, the sun hasn't risen yet, but it won't be long-I'll tell you what, can you Facetime me, I can show you as it happens. What? Wireless? Oh yeah, we need wireless for Facetime...surely there must be wireless here; it's famous enough!'

The girl with the phone turned to her companion 'Kate, have they got wireless here?' 'NO!' Her companion was sharp 'Now turn that bloody thing off! Some of us are trying to tune in...'

'No need to be shirty...Hi Ben, no it seems there's no wireless, and I think people want me to end the call, so I'd better go. No, I don't understand either, it's not like this doesn't happen everyday!' Sulkily, she put the mobile back in her handbag and fumbled for a tissue. 'How much longer do we have to stand here? I'm desperate for a wee!'

Her companion sighed 'It won't be long Emma, a few minutes, I have waited to be here to see this all my life, surely you can hang on for a few minutes more without completely ruining it for me!'
Kate turned away and faced the east once more. She breathed deeply, trying to ignore the musty smell coming from the man stood just behind her; she had not anticipated the reality of being stood in a crowd of thousands for this moment, in her dreams it had always been a solitary thing, just her and the sun communing at the stones...I mean, of course she knew that loads of others came, but she didn't realise it would be so crowded, such a crush, bodies jostling each other for position, necks craning to try and be the first to see the suns rays spill across the landscape.

A few more minutes passed; Emma rustled in her handbag for some sweets, 'D'you want a mint Kate?' she asked, smiling brightly, obviously trying to make up. 'Ok, pass them over.' Kate took one of the mints and popped it in her mouth; as she did so, a shout went up from those at the front, followed by a mighty cheer 'Is the sun rising now?' Kate jumped up and down trying to see over the heads of the people in front; one of them turned to her and smiled sadly; 'No, it's clouding over up ahead, the sun won't be making an appearance after all...'

Give or take 30 years, this is more or less what happened to me... I went to Stonehenge in 1981, with a friend from work. I was young and naive, thought it would be just me (and my friend of course), and maybe a few druids on the fringes. I was absolutely convinced it would be truly magical, connect me to the ancestors (whoever they might be) to the ancient gods and goddesses of this land and of course give me magical powers just by being there. After all, who wouldn't fancy being able to shoot green fire from their fingertips at the woman who pushed in front of you at the checkout! ...Especially if they were loading pricey top of the range goodies onto the conveyor belt whilst staring snootily at your supermarket own label stuff...

Anyway, there I was standing in the crush, reasonably near the front on a cold summer morning. You were not allowed access inside the stones in those days, but the Druids were. There were certainly Druids aplenty, clad in their white robes, weaving in and out of the stones in serpentine patterns, muttering under their breath. Their was something slightly sheepish about them, as though they were trying not to be recognised individually.
This approach however was blown out of the water by a couple of tabloid photographers who asked (shouted) if they could have a 'Team Photograph'.

The Druids agreeably complied; forming into three lines right in front of where we were standing; the photographers arranged them like a football team...one row sat cross legged at the front, the row behind on one knee and the back row standing. There was a bit of good natured banter concerning their ability to replace the current England team and play for Ron Greenwood, who was the England Manager at the time. The photo's were taken and all would have continued to be well, had not someone shouted from the crowd; 'Got any virgins to spare!' The Druids went off in a distinct huff and stood before the stones, facing east.

It all went quiet, the tension mounted and then-just as the sun was about to rise-a cry went up from the back; 'Bloody hell, look at that!'

As one, we all turned round...the biggest, blackest, cloud you have ever seen was hurtling toward us at a frightening speed! In moments we were all drenched, running helter skelter for the shelter of our cars-including the druids! It seems their robes were not showerproof, the gods had spoken and declared that nobody would be seeing the sun rise that year!

We slept in a layby; I arrived back home in the early afternoon, feeling a bit flat and disappointed. I have not been to a solstice at Stonehenge since, although I expect things are a little different these days. Just as crowded of course, but with access to the stones, and of course, mobile phones.

I still feel that the Solstices are special times, but I celebrate them in my own way, with those whom I love as opposed to a horde of strangers.

One of our favourite ways to celebrate is with the 'Bun Dance of Abundance'; it's quite simple and is a great way of doing something spiritual without a loincloth in sight! All you need in the way of ritual items is a bun. Of course you can add as many other things as you like; candles, incense, long flowery paragraphs of purple prose, crystals, wine...the list is endless, but this is the (really) important thing; You Make It Up As You Go Along.

Got that? I'll say it again; You Make It Up As You Go Along.

You want to talk to your god? Go ahead. You want to take all your clothes off and hang free in the breeze? Fine. I'll stay fully clothed, thank you-inflicting my flabby bits on the universe is not my cup of tea!

We celebrate with our closest friends; it's a closed ceremony, you can't come, I'm sorry. We do our thing, say thanks for the blessings in our lives, remember those who have passed, and then we perform the central, solemn ritual, The Bun Dance of Abundance.

No, i'm joking, it's most definitely not solemn!

In fact, it's likely to have you gasping for breath due to laughing...just dance around in a circle, clutching your bun of choice, get faster and faster if you wish, but whatever you do, don't be solemn. Laugh! Positive energy attracts positive energy, and believe me, this is positive energy. It blows the dusty cobwebs out of your head, and fills you with good, clean, shining positivity.

The longer you perform the dance, the more positive energy you take in...and then you fall exhausted on the floor and eat your bun, or someone else's bun, if theirs looks better than yours. Or you can share buns! Try not to choke on the crumbs, take some water with you...

Dogs really like this too...cats are a bit stand offish, ours tend to run screaming, but dogs love it! The best place to perform the Bun Dance of Abundance is outside, mainly due to there being less you can break or trip over outside, but inside is fine-just remember the creators of the dance will accept no responsibility for anything that happens as a result of it, whether directly or indirectly. It's all down to you...

Happy Summer Solstice!
Michelle x








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Location:At home...looking out on a grey day...

Saturday, 17 September 2011

What do you value in life?

We have been dining with good friends at their home this evening, and have just walked the short distance back to our own home... I am sat up in bed at 1.41am, with my beloved asleep beside me...and it struck me-

What do you REALLY value in your life?

I am happy without great riches, I just want not to have to worry about money.
I am happy without a flash car, as long as I can get around.
I am happy without a big house, I just want to live here, in our home.
I am happy and grateful to have some wonderful friends,
I am constantly amazed to have such wonderful children,
...and I am very lucky to have somehow discovered the one person in all the billions on this planet who makes me so happy, and continues to make me smile every day, after 20 years together... <3

That's what I value, what about you?

:0)






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Location:Bed bed bed

Tuesday, 13 September 2011

Hands together, eyes closed?

Do you pray?

What come to mind when you think about prayer and praying? For many of us it will something along the lines of 'hands together, eyes closed'; a phrase familiar (to me at least) from hundreds of primary school assemblies. There are also countless illustrations of small children kneeling by bedsides, comforting images of innocence from a time before VTech and Nintendo.

These days I suspect the vast majority of parents never raise the subject of religion or faith unless forced into it by the tyranny of 'homework'. It's a commonly held myth that you stop having to do homework when you leave education, but it's simply not true; the second you have children of your own, you are doomed to have to try and remember at some point how quadratic equations work, or worse, French verb tenses. Most parents will be asked about pilgrimage as a part of the Ethics and Philosophy GCSE!

The only time prayer comes into it is when they come home with their marks and you pray you remembered it correctly!

However, most of us DO pray...we pray instinctively, all the time, whether we realise it or not...

"Please God, let them get good marks"
"Please God, let me pass my driving test"
"Please God, help me get some money"
"Please God, help me get a job"
"Please God, don't let it be serious..."
"Please God, let them recover..."
"Please God, help me find my car keys!"

And when it happens in our favour, how many of us offer up a heartfelt
"Thank you God!"

All the time, regardless of whether we know who we are praying to, we pray.

A prayer does not have to be formal, use fancy words, liturgy or ritual.
You do not have to 'signed up' to a specific faith or religion to pray. All you need is the thought of what you need. The clearer that thought, the more focused that thought, the better chance you have of it getting through...

Now this is the best bit about prayer. It seems to work.

Scientific studies have been done to try and prove that it could work, or not...sound a bit nuts? How can you 'prove' that something that requires faith, something like prayer, actually has a real and measurable effect?

When churchgoing volunteers prayed for coronary patients (who were completely unaware that they were being prayed for), they fared a bit better than those NOT being prayed for... More research is ongoing.

So my reasoning goes like this...

It cannot possibly do any harm, and might conceivably do some good, so we might as well give it a go!

Also, if those who did not know they were included improved, how much better could we fare if we DO know we are being prayed for!

If you do not believe or have faith in a God, then try directing your efforts at the energy of Nature, of our planet and see what happens.

I would love to hear from you; tell me what you prayed for, and what was the response, if any!

A prayer I offered up many years ago was answered in the most dramatic fashion, in a way I could never have dreamed of. I'll tell you another day though, it's late and I need to sleep.

Hands together, eyes closed...












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Location:My personal sanctuary and workspace...

Friday, 26 August 2011

What to do when life smacks you in the face with a wet fish!

There are times in your life when you feel that nothing is going right, that if there is a God, he/she is playing some sort of cruel game; laughing at you whilst sitting safe and warm from the comfort of his/her "Insert Paradise of Choice Here".

We had one of those days this week...

My husband Phil has been unemployed for a couple of months; he has had a couple of interviews, but as yet, no offers-and of course it is a worrying time for us. I am confident that the right job is out there, but it would be nice if it were to manifest soooooon!
(Incidentally, if you are reading this thinking 'Where can I find a degree qualified engineer with bags of experience on PLC's and other computery controlly stuff I don't understand, As well as years and years In the print industry... Just get in touch!)

So as well as being unemployed, his car completely died a month back, and he has been using mine, but we were struggling with just the one means of transport so another car had to be found... He has a 'new' car now, or 'preloved' as some say. It's really nice, an old Merc estate; we picked it up on Saturday morning from the Gatwick area, about 50 miles away from where we live.

The busiest days of the week for us are Wednesday and Thursday, I work at Waterstones during the day, and then run my Slimming World groups at night; Wednesday is the biggie, with just an hour between jobs and two hectic sessions to run!

Phil was pleased (I think that's the term!) to be able to help me again as we had a car big enough to take three people and all my kit, so we loaded up, collected Marion and toddled off down to Pompey. On the way, his phone rang and I answered it; it was the chap at the agency-Phil had been for an interview last week, so maybe it was good news!

He returned the call as soon as we arrived...it wasn't good news. Ho hum.
I feel so awful...like shaking these daft employers who cannot see what a wonderful person he is... Anyway, he helped us set up, and then went home to do dinner for the hordes.

He picked us up again at 8.00 and we set off home...

We have to drop Marion off first, so we come off the motorway at Havant; as we paused at the top of the sliproad, the car began to judder in an ominous manner...and I noticed that smoke was billowing from under the bonnet...

Bugger.

We limped the quarter of a mile to her front door and stopped.

Out first thought was that the head gasket had blown, but the temperature had been fine, so Phil suggested it might be one of the injectors. We called out the AA, Marion made us cups of tea, and we waited...

The AA man duly arrived about half an hour later and had a look. It was an injector, it could be easily fixed, but sadly, not by him. The thread had stripped on the bolt, and his efforts met with casual indifference from the car which simply popped it straight back out again as soon as the engine was started!

A flatbed was required to get us home as it is a rear wheel drive automatic. You cannot tow them, it knackers the gearbox. It was a busy night and the truck would not arrive until at least 11.20...

I was absolutely shattered, having been working (writing for the magazine) until 1.00am the previous night, so Phil called our friend Ross who collected me and took me home so I could have something to eat and get to bed.

He then settled down to play golf on his phone and wait...

...For a man who turned up with a transit! It had some sort of gizmo to tow the car backwards...except that it didn't work because our car is an estate and he couldn't close the doors on the truck again! Well, Duh! They knew what the car is, and it is not exactly a rare model!

The estimate for the arrival of the flatbed was now 1.25am.

5 hours sat in a lay-by, less than 4 miles from home, on his own, having just been told he had not got the job he went for last week, in a car he had only had for 5 days... There is absolutely no justice in that at all.

My poor baby finally arrived home at about 1.15; the truck having turned up slightly earlier than anticipated. He was cold and depressed and who can blame him.

Then of course, there was the worry over paying for repairs; the Merc is 12 years old, you don't get a warranty on cars like that! We thought we might have to get Trading Standards involved and called them to check our rights.

We need not have worried, because the chap we bought it from could not have been more helpful. As we are so far away, he arranged for us to have it repaired by our local garage (who we have been dealing with for 25 years). He will pay the bill in full. He restored my with in human nature!

Then we had the call from the AA, to apologise for their part in the fiasco that was Wednesday night. They admitted full liability for the unacceptable wait and for sending out the wrong equipment and are sending us a cheque for £25 as a sweetener...

All we need now is for the interviewer from last week to call and say he made a terrible mistake in not employing Phil... The job is back up on the agency website, so it could happen...

...Are you listening up there?



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Location:In Bed

Tuesday, 16 August 2011

A Life Worth Saving?

I run a weekly Slimming World group in the Methodist Church in Copnor Road, Portsmouth (Wednesdays at 5.15 & 7.00pm). A preschool group also uses the hall during term time and we are used to seeing paintings and other things left to dry on the windowsills.

This year, they have been growing tomato plants, and inevitably one of them got left behind... I first saw it a couple of weeks ago, just after the end of the summer term.

There is a kitchen at the back of the church, a lovely bright and airy space with big, west facing windows. The plant was one of of the window sills; it was planted in a clear plastic disposable cup and was far too big for the container... I felt the soil (such as it was) and it was a little damp, so I gave it a drink and left it there, figuring that somebody was coming back to collect it.

However, I got a shock when I unlocked the kitchen the following week...

The tomato plant was still on the windowsill; it's leaves were hanging straight down, and some of them had gone yellow... I rushed over and felt the soil, it was bone dry. I quickly gave it some water and took it out of the glare of the sunlight streaming through the windows, then I went off to run my group.

Some hours later, after the groups had both finished, I went back into the kitchen to lock up... The tomato plant had recovered a little, but was still looking very poorly. I stood and thought about what to do; what if someone was coming back to collect it? Would it be stealing to take it home?

Whilst I thought, I had been gazing up at the window, as I looked back down at the plant, I heard it scream-no really, I did! In my head I heard it scream in panic!

"Don't leave me here!"

That was it. I could not, in all conscience leave it there! By the time I returned in another week, it would either be dead, or nearly dead, so if someone was coming back for it, they would not be getting a healthy plant anyway!

I carefully wrapped the plastic cup in a paper towel and wedged it upright in my car. On the way home, I found myself talking to it, telling it that it was going to be out in a nice courtyard garden with other pants to keep it company and plenty of water...

Once home, Phil unloaded the car for me and gave me a quizzical look on seeing the plant; I explained and he laughed...he is used to me by now!

I grabbed my gardening gloves and immediately took it out of the hated cup, repotting it into a nice large pot, filled with rich, damp soil. As I left it for the night, I could feel the waves of relief, like a huge *sigh* coming off the tomato plant as it stretched out it's roots and wiggled it's toes...

The following morning, the first thing I did when I got downstairs, was unlock the door to the courtyard and go and see how it was...

The difference was incredible! It had really perked up, the leaves were





standing out, and best of all, it had somehow managed to put out a bloom overnight! As you can see, it has dropped a few leaves, the yellow ones, but it is really trying to make a go of it, and I am going to do my best to help it along. If I am lucky enough to get a tomato...I shall save the seeds and grow more from it next year...

All I need now, is a name...I need something that demonstrates it's ability to survive in extremely testing conditions, something that says 'I will survive'...

I would have Gloria (who of course had the single), but that's the name of my stepmum, so that's out-and anyway, I want a boys name...Hmmm, I shall have to think about it!

If anyone has any ideas, let me know!?!


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Location:Out and about

Thursday, 11 August 2011

Those stupid moments

I often suffer from what I call my 'Stupid Moments', times when my brain simply refuses to work properly. I cannot recall names, or put faces to names, remember phone numbers, where I put things (my glasses!) or where I am supposed to be, at what time and on what day!

I am lucky to have an extremely patient dentists practice; over the last 25 years of attending, I have been there on the right day of the week, but in the wrong month, on the right day but at the wrong time...I have been days late and weeks early! I have also taken the kids out of school for appointments that don't exist!

Appointments are a particular frustration for me. I can arrange something on the phone, write it down at the time, double check it with the other person and still get it wrong! Unfortunately, it also seems to be rubbing off on the rest of my family...

...and then the who-are-you challenge... I have been known to talk to people at length without the slightest memory of who they are, in the hope that eventually they might say something to jog my memory... and even, on one day, walked side by side with a man up Cosham High Street for about five minutes, without realising he was my eldest brother! ...Although to be fair, he didn't realise it was me, either!

I am really embarrassed about all this; I feel so frustrated by my lack of memory, especially when I really should know something. I used to have a pretty good memory; almost photographic where the written word was concerned, although the appointments thing has been a curse my entire adult life... It was having to have chemotherapy in 2004/5 that really set it off on a downward trend, although I should point out that the official line is that there is no scientific evidence so far to prove a link with memory loss and chemo.

What can I do about it though? Nothing, really... All the brain training in the world won't repair my memory.

So, although I find it frustrating, I have to accept it. I cannot change it, stress makes it worse, so acknowledge, accept, release, as they say...acknowledge, accept, release...

This applies in lots of areas of life; if you cannot change something, acknowledge it, accept it, work with it, release that pain, anger and frustration...and move on.

If you cannot do this, then you may be allowing anger and resentment to clog up your energy and ruin your day.

If someone cuts you up on the motorway, resist the temptation to rant and rave, after all, the other driver certainly won't be worrying about you, and allowing that small incident to ruin your day just doesn't make sense!

Acknowledge, accept, release...move on.

This one small change to how you think can have a major effect on your well being, but it takes courage and practice...

Acknowledge, accept, release...move on.

Try it today?

You might surprise yourself!

Now then...who are you again?


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Location:Bed