A murky day in Oxfordshire and removal of Testicles

What does one do with two little boys before they go back to school? We go for walks in the bleak mid-winter gloom of January in the Oxfordshire countryside - that's what we do!

Whether they liked it or not, the two little grandsons had to wrap up warmly, with gloves, hats, scarves and a good sense of humour and follow me down the lane and beyond.

One coughed in the foggy atmosphere, while the other poked amongst the hedgerows with a stick and both complained of being cold. Tough! It was doing them a whole lot of good - I said! We had been holed up indoors playing cards, playing scrabble and watching DVDs for too long! I needed the fresh air and a walk, even if they didn't. Both could do with losing a little weight and gaining some colour in their cheeks. Both are lovely boys with a good sense of humour and both are loving and mostly kind. So what could I lose? Plus, the cats needed a break from the interlopers into their home!

At last, the log man has returned my call and will be delivering half a ton of logs by the end of next week. Pebble, however, may have to belay his removal of pebbles as the day of return to school for the boys maybe tuesday instead of monday, due to the teachers of their school requiring yet another training day!!! Hmmm, how much training do fully qualified teachers require in any one year??

As a teacher myself, updating of new methodologies is an ongoing necessity of one's profession, so why upset so many by demanding a whole day off that inevitably upsets many mums who have to rearrange child-minding agencies at great cost? Or, is it just another day off, tagged onto the end of the Christmas holidays? I am so cynical at times... justly so I think!

Meanwhile, I research sources for my new business venture, also I research ancestry websites for my daughters, also, I write my blog and correspond with friends, also, I have joined an online dating agency, with trepidation and huge concerns. Have I bitten off more than I can chew?

I still scour the papers for jobs, and do so half-heartedly as I really don't want to work for anyone else anymore. I really want to work for myself, but feel as though I should look anyway!

Meanwhile, Pebble is being aggressively Male as he attacks Banjo... it really is time for him to have his testicles removed. Banjo has had enough!

Sorted

Beds and bedrooms are now back to their empty normal state, ironing now achieved for which I deserve a medal, Pebble booked into the Vets to have his pebbles removed, half a ton of logs ordered and two young grandsons sitting in front of the TV watching a DVD.

I didn't mean to, but I've just bought a pair of knee-high black leather boots at half price while shopping for oven cleaner. Ah well, that's female for you.

Other jobs for the next three days include, rearranging cupboards without identity and within which are items long past their sell-by date; a bit like me. Then on to sort old photographs ready to scan into my computer; I've been given Adobe Elements as a Christmas present and can't wait to 'play'. All this and still more research and sourcing of French or Shabby Chic items for my proposed Style Ideas business. Early days, but it's coming together slowly, and beats working for a large organisation.

Back to the important job of casting on stitches for my grandson's knitting, while the other one practices on his new Guitar. I brought down my father's old Italian Piano Accordian and discovered splits in some of the bellows, but we managed to drag out a tune or two.

I think the sorting may have to wait a while, knitting and music have taken precedence.

What's in store?

Here we go again; another optimistic outlook for the New Year as the dawn creeps in quietly after the raucous night before. Fireworks at midnight filled the normally peaceful countryside around me, which sent Pebble diving under the sofa in panic. I heard people laughing in the lane outside my little house as I sipped my Amarula and Ice and I went to bed thinking about the last two New Year's Eves. My thoughts then were as always, optimistic about my future, wondering about my purpose, hoping that something would change my life, but as the last two years have edged along, nothing remarkable has ocurred except:

It was during 2007 that I plunged rock bottom into the depths of despair, grief and loneliness, even though eighteen months had gone by since he died. I couldn't understand it - shouldn't I be getting better? It was an all-time low for me when I didn't want to go on; I'd tried hard to carry on... mundane everyday existing things. After crying almost non-stop for about two days and nights I came out of it, and seemed to gradually look at things differently until once the second anniversary of his death had gone by, I had turned a real corner on the road to recovery. Until then, I'd kidded myself and others that I was 'doing fine', 'much better', and 'feeling positive'. What utter crap we issue out to ourselves and others, trying to believe it.

I ended 2007 with a much healthier outlook; not fooling myself anymore, just accepting that grief is a peculiar beast that won't leave you alone for long; pouncing on you at unexpected moments, just as Pebble does. I have learnt to accept the presence of the beast, and can often tame it, though not Pebble. Of all the advice I received, mostly from those who hadn't yet lost, or indeed, found their once in a life-time, genuiune lover, the most accurate was, 'grief is different for each of us'. Some have said that grief follows a known pattern; sorry folks, it doesn't, well, not for me. Others have said that I would go through the 'Anger' stage; no I haven't. Several have compared my grief to that of losing a parent; No, it's not the same at all, except loss. There is more to losing someone who came late into your life and transformed it, and who you trusted, respected and loved more than anyone or any living thing ever; it's a much deeper wound, that even those who have been married but not to their soulmate for many years, may not feel. I know I wouldn't have felt this tremendous wound to my soul had I still been married to my first husband; not his fault, we should never have married in the first place. It all sounds corny and overly romantic I suppose, and before I'd met him, I would've been the first to say 'Yuk!' But in the words of another: "In a Universe of Ambiguity, this kind of feeling comes just once, no matter how many life-times you may lead."

So, into 2008 with a more positive mind having tamed the beast as best I can. I am looking forward, not backward anymore. There is the prospect of starting a business to continue looking into; the rooms need painting and I want to change my hairstyle and get even fitter and healthier. Small things perhaps, but indicative of the change in me over the last six months. I may even take a new interest in the opposite sex! I laugh as I say this, 'cos I'm really scared of ever having another powerful, all-consuming, passionate and 'so right' relationship with anyone. However, I can relax, because that is likely not to happen as I think I have had my 'once in a lifetime' love. So what else is there? Friendship, companionship, someone to go to the Pub with? Someone to talk into the small hours with, putting the world to rights, maybe? Maybe a bit of good old sex before I'm too old? All of this is terrifying.

Onwards into 2008 with trepidation, optimism and a desire to become part of the human race again. To all those who have been encouraging and supporting me, thank you and I wish you all a Happy New Year.

Back on the Treadmill

I am always fascinated by working flour mills in this country. Continual grinding of wheat into flour; flour into bread and cakes and biscuits - the staff of life.

In my cupboard I have flour from two different flour mills: one is from Rudyard Kipling's home and the other is from Castle Carew in West Wales. I have yet to make bread or cakes or biscuits from either with my grandchildren, but when I do, I shall tell them stories about either origin so that the biscuits will taste all the more better.

Now that Christmas is over and there have been no arguments in the house, in fact, all has been very well; another good Christmas with my daughters. I now look forward to the year ahead, differently from the last two New Years when my heart was full of trepidation and fear. What else could befall me and turn my world upside down? This time, I feel that there are better times ahead; that I will find my purpose; my reason to go on; my raison d'etre. Am I just thinking wishfully? No. Not this time. I feel it in my bones. I will make headway this coming year and look forward, not back.

I no longer want to work for anyone, especially a large corporate organisation. I want to work for myself. I still have at least 30 years ahead of me and I want to do something worthwhile and for me as well as others. Positive thoughts. I hope they last.

When the children arrive with me for the last few days of the Christmas holidays I shall bring out the flour that originate from the old working mills and tell them stories from Rudyard Kipling and of battles of Castle Carew as we eat our biscuits and bread made from the wheat of nearby fields where men surely died in battle in years gone by.

Pride and Christmas

I've saved £s this year... making my own Christmas Wreath, making the family presents, pulling in last year's potted Christmas Tree, recycling old decorations and cutting my own hair. I've saved a few hundred pounds, much needed while my finances are poorly.

My car tyres have been replaced and the invoice will be sent via Royal Mail, who, with a bit of luck won't deliver until after Christmas and by the time my cheque arrives and clears, I could well make the end of the month without too much debt.

Some people don't like admitting they are financially curtailed - I've found in the past that men are usually too proud to mention money, and would rather use wealth or the trappings of wealth as a status symbol to show off to other males. Am I wrong? While we women tend to be more 'up-front' about our state of affairs. Again, I may be wrong, but it's how I see it based on my experiences with others who get uncomfortable when finances are discussed. I tend not to tell people exactly how much or little I have. It should be enough to mention that finances are difficult without going into too much detail, and good friends have understood without question.

I am so lucky to have daughters who despite my saying repeatedly over the years that I'm not a 'borrower', when I have been in difficulty, as is the case recently, one or more have jumped in, despite my protests, and have helped out. I hate taking loans and like most people, I have my pride. My lovely man would not have wanted to see me without anything, and he was the first to help out members of my family if they were in dire straights. He was also very forgiving, something many are not. We all have pride, some more than others. It gets in the way of many things, but, among good friends and especially at Christmas, all should be forgiven - even pride.

Let it snow

The sky was clouded over yesterday and the day before with a slight promise of snow flurries. Nope... not a flurry in sight as I stood outside shivering with the trusty car mechanic who was changing one of my tyres. My back, nearside tyre was completely bald on the outside circumference and definitely illegal. Would Renault cover the obvious fault in my Warranty? No, of course not, despite the mechanic speaking over the phone to one of Renault's service managers that there was an underlying cause; like suspension?

So now I have no car which has given me the excuse I needed to do all the little housey, decorating things I've been putting off. The tree is in, up and bedecked and at one point, amongst all the baubles and twinkling lights, a little kitten face appeared through the branches; eyes big and excited. No baubles have yet hit the floor, but he's working on it! He has ventured outside briefly, under cover of darkness, running back in at the merest sound or sight of anyone, or anything. He peers at me as if I'm stupid when I press the cat-flap with encouragement, so then I open the door and he will sit on the door step, sniff the air then prance back to the warmth of the log fire. Perhaps he'll go outside to pee in the Spring?

Without a car I can't take Banjo to the Vet, I can't fetch the boys from school on Friday, and I can't travel down to the coast to fetch my daughter and granddaughter. Nor can I do the Christmas shopping or try one last go at the Gym. Hopefully my car will be back soon. So, while holed up, it may as well snow, then my isolation will be complete, but no problem, I have warmth, water and food and two adorable felines for company, which is more than some folk will have this Christmas.

I may look like a Swan,,,but,

I have been sorting Christmas decorations all day while cleaning rooms, putting away ornaments to make way for festive stuff, and battling with a not-so-helpful kitten. Like a Swan, I look elegant above water, but underneath, my legs are paddling away furiously.

Some of the decorations are several years' old, we bought them together when setting up home. We had nothing. Both left previous homes from previous lives with nothing much; I had a lamp which was a family heirloom and a suitcase that contained swimsuits and scarves, (I packed in a hurry)! He had some Disney videos and a few teddy bears. So we had to begin from scratch. We bought a Christmas Tree on Christmas Eve; it was the last one, but it looked good; small and with full branches. We were like two children searching for decorations for our first Christmas together, with not much money, no friends and quite a lot of enemies.

So now, when I pull these decorations out of the cold cardboard box, I'm instantly transformed back to the Christmas of 1996. They may be battered but I display them with love.

I have just discovered that my back, nearside car tyre is bald. How could this be? I've only had the car just over a year, from new. So, now I must make phone calls and see what can be done before I travel down to the coast to fetch my daughter and granddaughter for Christmas. And the expense!!! And what is the cause?