Adventures with Huck

I was recently reintroduced to the fabulous world of Mark Twain's Huck and Tom by a dear friend, A. I loved the series as a child and it has brought back the most magical memories. Sitting in front of the fire, with my brother L, in the living room. Wrapped in a stiff but warm towel after a weekend bath. Mum would have made the grandest of floor picnics. Sandwiches from the roast chicken we'd had for dinner. Crisps, pork pies, mum's own cup cakes or delicious chocolate cake. I still have a burning passion for Mum's chocolate cake. Then we would sit and dry by the warmth of the fire while watching the Sunday evening episode of Huck Finn and friends. I still get that same contented warmth on hearing the theme tune. I still smell the freshness of the towels mingling with the soapy purity of our just washed limbs. The lemon tang of the giant bottle of family shampoo used to wash my long hair. I had hair so long and thick I used to sit on it. It was my Dad's pride and joy. Once warmed we would put on our Pj's and dad would start the lengthy process of combing it out. Tangle by tangle gently teasing it with his own comb that he kept in his back pocket (a habit he still has) finishing with a long rope like plait. Then snuggling into the crook of his arm to sail away with Jim and Huck on the raft for adventures...

This reintroduction has afforded me to bring the same magic to my own two. We sit with tea on our laps and indulge in an episode or two most evenings. They are being held enthralled by the tale. It is so refreshing to share something from my childhood that still holds the same innocent and simple magic it did all those years ago. A time where myself and my dear children sit and spend time together. This time has become precious and god forbid anyone who interrupts. Our time and it is sacred. We are planning to start the whole series from the start once we have finished to cling on to this time. I have also just purchased the books. When the series has run it's course we can sit and read them together by the light of the fire and lamp in the living room. Gentle calm and precious moments. I hope I have created a memory of security and safety in L and A's mind similar the that, that I hold dear myself.

Thank you to Mark Twain for the precious moments, and thank you to A for bringing them to me.

Raindrop on roses and whiskers on kittens....

Isn't it funny how the little things can give you an enormous sense of well being. This last two days I have made the effort to get G to the beach for a run. Yesterday I took her for her first time. A bright crisp day with promise of spring. A blue sky and invigorating surf. I took her out on the the beach which left her running around me in circles. Sand an amazing new texture to be played in and sniffed. Trying to bite the bubbles of the foam on the sand from the surf. Running full pelt at the waves only to stop short and run from them. A good hour of unadulterated simple fun with G. I have not been a dog person through my life. I grew up with a beautiful Dane, but never saw myself as a dog owner. I have always favored cats and Harry and Buffy have given me years of joy (and mice). The chickens are an endless source of fun and eggs. (Miss Pecky has just saved herself from the oven by providing me with a couple of eggs) But G is a revelation. So loving an gentle and funny and hyper and loopy and and and.....
We returned again to the same beach today and again fun was had. She was however a little tired and didn't want such a long romp.
Then a unexpected meeting with my dear friends A & H. A truly wonderful couple. Tea was had and cake resisted.
Then this evening my Babies came home. Full of love and happiness. How I love them....

all in all the sunshine and my loved ones have yet again been a blessing. I love them all x

Splish splash

Today was the eve of L's birthday. He is going to be with his father this weekend so we decided to celebrate today. No cards or cake today as that will be something for him to come home to. I miss him dreadfully when he is not here. Equally his sister A. It seems particularly rough this time as it will be the first time in his short life I have not woken him with a cuddle on his birthday. It hurts. I will fill this weekend with "useful" chores to make it whizz by.
Last night he had his best friend S sleep over. Of course his room carried a health warning so I cleaned it out. It's all shiny and clean now...
Then today we went swimming at the local pool of fun. It is a wonderful pool, has a huge Olympic pool on one side and a fun pool, with slides and the like on the other.
L & A were like water babies possessed. Such fun was had. Playing in the rapids with A on my back like a baby duck and L whizzing around like a wild thing. The only down side was it being half term. there is only so many teenage knees and elbows you can tolerate in the breast. I am black and blue. All too soon time was ticking on and I wanted to take them for Pizza. So out we got and off we went. L ordered for all or us. Meat supreme and cookie dough ice cream for desert... not a good diet food really.

then home to pack a bag, off they went with their father leaving me cuddling G and waiting for them to bounce back in on Sunday with excited tales and cuddles.

In the mean time, peace, quiet, solitude........

ahhhhhhhhhh

premonition or just a dream?

I had a dream the night before last. Now due to the fibro I dream a lot, and they tend to be very "near the surface" dreams. Easily remembered and often dismissed. Sometimes just wanderings over the days events. Often more meaningful but easily interpreted. Occasionally just plain odd.

This one was different. I awoke with such a feeling of contentment. It had just what I long for. I had a nice house, Can't say much about the house as it seemed unimportant. Then the garden ran down from the back and had a greenhouse and a good veg garden. Old fruit trees and bushes making a natural fence from the woods that spread out from the bottom. A stream or brook trickling through it. In my dream I am building a chicken run. Somewhere for them to be at night. I am also aware of my geese and bees. I am aware of the smell of the earth and the leaves soft underfoot. It is sunny but not too hot.
The best thing of all is the lack of neighbours. The lack of stress. The peace and tranquility.
The only thing I recognise in this dream is the chickens, they are still my chickens. So it must have been a premonition,



I so want it to be a premonition :)

A good spring clean!

Time to de-junk...
both emotionally and physically. I have decided that living in a tip is getting me down. I keep tripping over things (not just G) and stubbing my toes. there is too much in this house. I need to have a huge cull. I thought I would start with a cobweb cull. It is so much easier to de-clutter in a tidy house. So far so good. I have a spotless bedroom. My little haven. It is mine and only mine. I remember we would have to have permission to go into my parents room as children and feel that I will be following suit. Until A can learn not to leave a trail of devastation wherever she goes, then she can only be in my room with permission. As for L he sees no reason to be in there anyway. It is here I sit and read, here I think, it is here I can relax and I no longer want to do this in a mess made by others. So one room down!
L's room, check! I am not best pleased at having to do this myself and think when all the tidying/spring cleaning is done I will be placing a rota of chores and house rules up on the kitchen wall. Simple rules, put away what you have used. Wash the dish you have just dirtied and put the laundry in the basket....not rocket science really. That make two..
The living room, no more cups left to sit, no more animal hospitals and no more cobwebs! It is a nice bright yet cosy room I would like to sit in it without sighing... That makes three..

tomorrows list?

hall, conservatory, A's room, bathroom.....deep breath and dive in.......

then a weekend free to garden....heaven :)

Miss Kenrick pick ups..

This morning was filled with the delights of the stuffy Victorian Miss Rebecca Kenrick. Sister of George Kenrick Esq. of Varteg Iron works. Nice work if you can get it. It is a lot of fun playing a stuffy Victorian with a sparkle in her eye....
stunning red crinoline and an austere look. Such a character. Just a short monologue but a good one ;)


mmm, corsets, I do love corsets. I must make more.....

the diet started yesterday. I have just realised how much rubbish I eat. It's no wonder I am putting on weight. Well there is no way I am starting the sunny season feeling like this. So out go the cheeses and crisps and in come the fruits and salad. I do love salad though...
Soon i will be slim. Perhaps having the voluptuous curve of the delightful Dita. *I wish* But certainly looking better than this. I could also quite happily say goodbye to the backache this weight brings with it.
Exercise is the key. More swimming, walking and gardening are on order I think. I must plant up my seed trays this weekend too. It has been too long that my conservatory has looked like a conservatory not a greenhouse/conservatory hybrid.

anyhoo, off i pop. may be back later with some more random musings.....

the oldest is often one of the best

Tonight I want to pay dues to Lc. I first set eyes on her when I was just eight years old. She sat on my garden wall looking longingly over at my little set up of dolls and tea party. I smiled shyly and said my hello's but ventured no further. The my dear, intuitive mother stepped in, and for that I thank her. This moment proved to be the moment I found my oldest and one of my dearest friends. She had recently moved into a house just a few doors away and was very much a lost soul. He mother recently separated from her father and taking up with a "funny sort". She has the most amazing strawberry blond hair and looked a little like an elf. A friendship began. This was cemented over the years. We went on may an adventure and often found ourselves in outrageous scrapes. But she has always been a source of endless laughter. She is also a fabulous reality check. When I self analize and moither over the silly things she is one of the few who can laugh and say "get a grip girl!" . When talking to her of woes and troubles she is always the first to sympathise and then make me see the irony.
As we have grown we have grown apart and back together again. Our circle of friends often differ. We have very little, superficially, in common. But! She knows the very soul of me. The day P and I went our separate ways she seemed to some how know there was something amiss. She rang, out of the blue. We laughed, I cried, we made plans that never came to fruition. She knew though that I needed to just sit and make those plans. I have covered her back over the years, she has always been the naughty one... she has put me back together.
She has dealt with so much and I have listened. When the father of he daughter left her destitute I went the 120 mile to fetch her. She would do the same and I would do it again and again.
We do not speak often and I have not actually seen her for nearly three years. But I don't need to. She is always there. In the background. I will always be there for her.
Still I would not be surprised to find her on my doorstep at 6 am with a smirk on her face and mischief in her eye. That is my dear, dear Lc. Always the naughty, lovable child. But in all this she is the strongest, most level headed of remarkable women. A joy to behold and a blessing to know.
I named my little Angel after her...
In all this we must not forget her daughters F & M. beautiful, bright, shining stars....just like their mum x

The Hippy Shake?

Gah, why do I find it so hard to admit to a fibro day? I find it so horribly difficult to just hold my hands up and say "hey world, today is tough" . I am so afraid of my own negativity. I am a happy go luck sort much of the time. My cup runeth over. I count my blessings (of which there are many). I worry if I let even a splash of negativity spill out I will head down a long and slippery slope of self pity.
Well this is not self pity. In no way am I sitting here saying poor me. I do suffer with fibro and I do find it hard some days but I also know how good I have it. I am so, so very rich in other ways (and believe me it isn't money ;))
But today I feel rough. I hurt and I am not doing well. My joints ache, my muscles burn, but most of all I shake. I cannot deal with stress. These last couple of days/weeks/months have been stressful and it is hurting me. My stress presents itself as physical pain and I feel like I have been hit by a bus. My hands feel so swollen I cannot clench them. Yet I look at them and they are just my normal everyday hands. I tried pouring a colleague and friend, T a cup of coffee today. He is a dear and wonderful older man. He knows of my troubles and knows how I worry about appearing less than capable in front of acquaintances. Despite my nearly dropping the cup and getting more coffee over the table than in in his cup. He mearly reached over and steadied my hand. He did not even skip a beat in conversation. Not even making eye contact. It was much later when he said "so tell me sweetheart, how are you coping" He is a good man. For all of this I am grateful. There is still a part of me however that is very aware I had to be assisted by a man in his 70's to do a simple task like pour a cup of coffee. Where will this end?

A is for Angel

My little girl.
Always a ray of sunshine.
She lights up a room, always busy, always curious, always happy. Who could ask for a more perfect Angel? She is kind, caring and mischievous. A joy in many, many ways. She devotes her attention and time to animals where ever she can. She will find a future with animals, of this I am sure. Clearly a girl of discerning tastes who prefers our furry friends to people. Indeed, her best friend is Ollie dog. Of course she is smitten with Georgie.
She does not suffer fools. She seems to have a natural internal divination to weed out less desirable types, and these she gives no truck.
Always a song on her lips, she seems to gently tread her journey to her own soundtrack. A lover of music, singing and dance. She has a natural self possession. Unusual in one so young.
The look of a porcelain doll. Her face a perfect heart, eyes as blue as a summer sky. And of course a wide, open ready smile. Lighting her from within and giving credence to her dimples.
The first words she heard on entering this world were the words of the midwife, "goodness, she is perfect, she looks just like a doll"
But with fire in her heart, kindness in her soul she is no plaything. A girl who will grow to be a strong and forthright woman.
She makes me proud xxx

Rainbows End (one for P)

Oh how I adore Rainbows End, and all that it brings. P is my port in the storm. My piece of mind. My sanity. My dear, dear P.
What a woman. How can I express all that she is and do her full justice, a fighter, a carer, a source of endless wisdom, understanding and patience. If I could be half the woman she is then a remarkable woman I would be. A true survivor in every sense of the word. 10 acres of bliss are hers, but she dose not hide them covetously. She shares all she has open heartedly Using the magic of the place to help and heal troubled souls. Little does she realise that if it was not for her it would be mearly a farm. Albeit, a beautiful scrap of land. But all that it is, is infused will all that is her. She is purely an inspiration. A marvel to watch. A beauty to behold. I am finding it harder and harder to tear myself from it's gentle caress each time I leave. A and L seem to truly be themselves there. Not a care in the world and a childhood filled with promise. As it should be. Each season blesses the rainbow with it's own charms. Winter brings frost, snow and isolation. A silent pause on the world, breathing gently, whispering of spring time promise. Crackling fires bring the scent of wood smoke, along with the spice of cup of everything cake.
Spring bounces in, chicks emerge eager to see the world while mother hen persistently pushes her little ones beneath her protective feathers. Lambs gambol, bandy legged in the dingle. Bleating for their fill from mother. The air has the fresh tang of newly emerging herbs at they become crushed underfoot. Eagerly climbing from their beds to fill every crack and crevice in pathways and walls.
Summer, a lazy drone of the busy honey bee. Filling their combs with amber glories. Vegetables tumble, bountiful from their beds, fighting each other to be chosen for the next harvest. All the while a lazy yet industrious hum, as all who belong come and go. Each bringing their piece of the rainbow tapestry.
Autumn, the nights draw in and still we sit outside. Wrapped in warmer clothes now, Homespun blankets adorn shoulders and knees while the bats wheel over head. Listening to the testy honking of grumpy geese as the days grow shorted and their bed ever nearer. The summer pims now, swapped for warming rich coffee. The wispy steam making swirls under your nose.
Yet all of this is simply an ideal, none of it would have the truth and honesy of being what it is without P! At rainbows end she is all!
whole heatedly I love her xxxx

Regency musings

Just for the joy of it here he is....


I have spent the last couple of weeks playing miss Sarah Hopkins of Blaenavon. A charming and delightful character to indulge. She is/was a kind, strong willed, passionate woman. Fighting the good fight for educational reform in the limited world a regency lady inhabits. I also am giving a lecture in conjunction with N on Friday evening on regency manners and society. Best foot forward and posh voice to boot. I suppose a long and lenghty chat on fashion and address will be orders of the day. All in all a week haunting the world of Jane Austen is on the cards. I find myself in this path of my life journey with less patience for the simpering Jane's of many of her characters and identifying my with her Emma, and Lizzy's..I will forever be waiting for my Colonel Brandon ;) knowing my luck he will turn up looking nothing as dashing as Alan Rickman.


So the question remains, Have I put aside these childish things? Have I finally accepted, in my cynicism, that romance is dead? With another lonely Valentine looming on the horizon I find myself tutting when I walk past the sickening isles upon isles of chocolates, flowers and sappy bears... I like to think the answer is no. I have just become less patient with the commercial exploitation of the loved up consumer. I personally find the story of St Dwynwen much preferable. More a story I can relate to. A woman loved, a relationship denied and advantage taken. A forgiving soul, finding peace in her own way... Would I unfreeze Maelon? I'd like to say yes I would. 25th Jan for those wondering ;)


Will anyone ever hang from a tree and pretend to be a monkey just to see me smile? Who knows?

stinking cold

I have a nose the size of a mountain and a head full of snot! Pretty description eh?
I am having a grumpy old evening. I have the sort of cold that starts off as an irritation. The type you know you need to take care of but just don't have the time. So spending the day waxing lyrical about Being the founder and Patron of the wonderful St Peters school in Blaenavon and educational reform I feel like I have had a day long diet of teasels. 3 full sessions of 1.5 hrs a go means 4.5 hours of solid talking...cough cough wheeze. Poor old Miss Hopkins had consumption. I also was told I looked like I was a mad lady who wears a nightie all the time, a princess, a queen and a very, very rich person. All good descriptions of Miss Sarah Hopkins IMHO.
Considering my physical woes I am reasonably chipper. But my physical woes are indeed woes. This cold is driving me loopy. I ache all over, my nose is like a radish, my limbs feel like lead and my head has a permanent background throb. The thing is, would I feel this appalling if it wasn't for the fibro. I have been told by the Gp that all physical ailments will be exasapated by up to ten times. My silly brain keeps telling my nerves to over react so a simple cold will leave me wiped out for sometime. I have so many plans this year I really don't want another year of not quite getting there because I seem to be sleep walking through too many days. I have so much to give, so much to do and so much to experience.
The words of my specialist and Gp keep echoing in my ears. Statistics haunt me late at night. "80% of fibro sufferers end up wheelchair bound", "you cannot give in to it or you will deteriorate", "it is ok to admit to being depressed" I AM NOT BLOODY WELL DEPRESSED I AM IN PAIN!
I was advised to get a dog?!? I ask you what a strange thing for a doctor to say. But after chatting about it, being made to see how the responsibility of a dog will make me get up everyday and go for a walk. Keeping muscles supple and moving. the more gentle exercise the better I will fell given time. However is cleaning dog muck off my cream conservatory carpet over and over gentle exercise or a soul destroying task?
I am run down and tired. I cannot sleep unless medicated. I wake up to 14 times a night with burning muscles and aching joints. I am weary.....
I have a cold sore, a mouth ulcer and a cold....
I still find my cup is overflowing but I feel the need to sit and take a breath. Unfortunately it is a wheezy rattle. My chest hurts, I know this pain, I have recognised this chest pain since having pleurisy when I was 18. It is very probably the onset of bronchitis. I sit and wait in apprehension. It was and has been a regular occurrence over the winter months in the past. I have been blessedly free for the last 3 winters. So I am waiting to see how painful it will be with fibro. I would say I am holding my breath but I may go blue.