honey letting off steam

roadtrip post Three.

2008-07-22T12:17:00.007+02:00

Here I am:the photo holds so much of what I'd like to take back from this holiday, a real bonding with the children, a release of pent up energy and breathing again really breathing deep in my lungs.

To catch upon the trip: we did a lot of driving in the rain, we visited a few friends in Cardiff, Cam, Todminster, Brampton, Carlisle and Glasgow. these adorable photos were taken near Dursley with Dizzy:Then I went on a little trip down memory lane. I took the children to see where I was born and brought up. In the middle of the country the nearest farm ten minutes walk across the fields. My parents bought this home as a dilapidated farm house with no floors and rotten windows. They slept in the stable on sheets covering mounds of hay with me as a tiny baby whilst they did the place up.My father, a little like myself likes to decorate, so the front door step was carved on, the concrete used had stones pushed into it and his carved stone faces still guard the house in various secret locations which even twenty years on I know exactly where to find:

Here is what is left of 'my garden'. I was so proud of my little spot I got seeds and could plant what and where I liked.the view from the back of our house across the fields. this is where I grew up this is where I roamed the countryside free for a whole day, lunch in my pocket.we stopped by my old school, odd adolescent memories there, crushes on boys, boredom, lazy days and the illicit thrill of listening to pop music on the radio which was banned at home:
One last landscape picture: and shock of all shocks it's TOO flat! This is on the road I used to walk to catch the school bus, a 25 minute walk each day followed by 40 minutes on a bus that would wind round the villages. I really need bigger hills than these in my life.Then I got a little sick, possibly a little overwhelmed with all the travelling and memories, and I headed off to my parents on the island.. which has been a mix of bliss and feeling like a trapped teenager again.

My mother and the kids:

You know I was all calm until an uncontrollable anger shot over me and I shouted at my father today. I hate that- I hate misplaced anger. There is always a reason to be cross but it never justifies the shouting which has sneaked in on this opportunity to reveal itself having been simmering away resentfully in the background for a while.

I'm cross about a few things but mostly I think I'm just finding it unbelievably hard to finally relax and there is so much tension built in so much 'holding it all together' that cranking open that tight ball of control is making me face a few not so nice sides of myself.

I can truly be a bad tempered cow, so I'd better be off to find him and apologise.

the argument was about him wanting to take the kids in his car to a beach without car seats or even seat belts.. so loose on the back seat. It's a tiny island of 400 people with single track roads and he drives unbelievably carefully but it's not him it's the tourists who aren't used to the island and are used to driving fast. There have been six deaths due to car accidents on this island in the last ten years so it does happen but I can see his point. He was upset because he thought I was calling him a bad driver, no I was worried about the others not him and any how it's illegal.

But then I shouted and this anger rose like a vast rage out from my belly and so he just left and the kids got not to spend time with him and I cried. Misplaced anger. There was no need to shout, I just needed to calmly say no and leave it at that.

Oh I have a lot to learn.

we'll be leaving on Friday weather permitting and continuing our journey down the east coast of Britain this time..

marooned

2008-07-17T12:34:00.001+02:00

Hi there, am on dysfunction island with my parents, it is an idyllic spot with insanity rife so we'll see how long we can stay.
just a note to say this took 20 minutes to post so there will not be photos for a while, but I'm fine and for those of you who have been phoning or texting.. the mobile does not work here the gps thinks i'm out in sea and the Internet is ice age.
loving it so far though, am fine. x

road trip 2

2008-07-10T11:59:00.005+02:00

cheddar gorge dragons for the kids:but the best part was the actual caves, I prefer them without the coloured lights fake dragons etc.
we stayed twice with Dizzy once on the way into Wales and once on the way out, she was so hospitable that we HAD to come back, warm wonderful and lots of giggles, the kids and I adore you Dizzy!We cooked a lovely veg curry for 12, in the new being created kitchen.. I've been vegetarian for about two months now and it's going well...
Off we drive to Wales: not sure we are camouflaged but we add 'something' to the landscape
Then we came to stay in this house and just found ourselves unable to leave for the week.
Sheep, ducks, chickens, geese, dog, cat and a poet.
I had a wonderful time with many many memories to take home. I cooked a quiche in an aga, that's a first. Being a novice with the aga it turned into a four log quiche.. I think the fire went out twice, I blame the poet..

Here are the rams who were part of the small farm..
driving through breathtaking scenery
foxglove fields

wild horses outside the house, the mountains are the view from the windows:

and mass at Capel y Ffin up a mountain road surrounded by yew trees with a congregation of nine and a wonderful priest.

roadtrip part one

2008-07-01T21:02:00.005+02:00

we set off from Bologne to Dover

one day all this will be mine..... mwaaaaaaa haaaa haaaaa haaaaa
some said the trip would be dangerous..
rats, cockroaches....
spiders...
snakes....

we are currently staying in a household with: 3 rabbits, 2 chinchillas, 3 guinea pigs, 35 rats, 2 gerbils, 3 budgies, many fish, 20,000 bees and a baby.

I made raw sushi as a treat:

and so the road trip starts...

2008-06-26T21:04:00.005+02:00

The seats are out, the blow up mattresses for the back ready, the covers, the food, the utensils, the coffee pot all ready for the nine week road trip in our car. Reading material: 'women who run with the wolves', 'anger' by thich naht hanh, the quaker texts" , paper and pens for the kids.. we'll draw our own games, stories (and pop into local libraries), pictures, music, clothes are considered and reconsidered mostly borrowed wardrobe from a friend of Cora Kemperman dresses (see photo) who makes these wonderful pull on and run dresses that don't wrinkle wash easy and look fabulous. Real travellers clothes. I have my map, it has 30 dots on it so far of places and friends and family to visit, not finished yet - it's not a plan just dots that may get joined up in any old order. The kids really don't have a clue, at three and four they think sleeping in the car is what they do on the way home from school.. so they will learn and I hope be delighted. We leave tomorrow at noon. I'm excited nervous worried happy... alive. If I don't frequent the blog world over the next nine weeks so frequently, please forgive me.. I'll post when I can but I'm presuming I'll have limited internet access. Please keep in touch with the comments, I love to hear from you all.
My love to you all, bon voyage to us!

...By the way Thank You for voting in my poll, Malcom was the nice safe people carrier, grey in colour dependable and a tad boring, but he's borrowed a couple of his mum's favourite dresses and is outing himself all over the place as a contented cross dresser, and I for one think he looks great. Three cheers for Malcom my car.
51 of you voted, I had no idea that many people looked at the blog unless I hit a tide of poll addicts who popped in for their fix. Thank you again, t'was fun and I now have my name!

and today I win the lottery...

2008-06-25T13:44:00.004+02:00

Your results:
You are Wonder Woman You are a beautiful princess with great strength of character.

Click here to take the "Which Superhero am I?" quiz...

Well that sums up the mood today. Thank you Mombacho for the utter trivia!
Today three good things have happened....

1) My dishwasher is working again. I have bh/gf (bad husband - good father) to thank for that. He came round last night so I could go out for a councelling session and I returned home to find him in his underwear in the kitchen surrounded by smelly water fixing the thing. He'd been on whirlpool forums and found an online technician to help guide him. The machine had to be pulled out, and some pipe had to be blown, an icky sticky job and I thank him.

2)My mother phoned to say "I'm sorry I told you you could not visit your father and his wife whilst here, I'm so sorry I did that to you in the past, I had a long think and realised I had no right to tell you who you could or could not visit and that I was behaving just like your grandmother", I had tears in my eyes. This is huge from my mother who has never apologised in her life, and suffers from compulsions and depression so it's very difficult to work with her incresingly demanding requests. Last time I went to see her she stayed at my side 24/7 and would not let me out of her sight in case I met up secretly with my father. This is massive progress for her.

3) An agent just called, someone who visited the house in town wants to rent it, and we will meet tomorrow for another check. If the answer is yes HUGE money worries have just been lifted off our shoulders, what's more she asked for 200 euros more than we asked and they still want it.. hurrah a bonus!
So I've decided this is my lucky day and I must buy a lottery ticket (I never gamble but then again days like this do not come around often).
Here is wishing you a lucky day too!

painting

2008-06-23T19:37:00.004+02:00

so I started this I'll continue.
I've had time to dabble in oil painting at a maximum of two hours a week over the past four months. I've not used oils or indeed painted at all since I was 16 so... well I'm not that good. I'm repeating all this because I've opened up my blog to a few artist friends and if they are still bothering to check in.. I am more than a little embarrassed. BUT in the name of transparency and art not being a mystery here goes. If I managed to work 30 hours a week on painting, I DO believe in a few perhaps as many as five years I'd have a painting worth exhibiting. I'm not pretending to be anything other than amateur in this field.
I've been working on three paintings, the first two are copies, the third a picture of two friends breastfeeding. The last two pictures are not finished. Especially not the breastfeeding picture, that's about 1/3 done.
I can see potential, I have a bunch of highly ambitious and exciting paintings in my head but I have to be patient and practice practice practice. My intention when I get back from the road trip is to paint roughly 30 hours a week if at all possible. That's what I'm going to TRY to do.

so now I'm going to hide for a while: oh except to say PLEASE VOTE to your right is poll, easy to do = no log in and takes seconds. Open for three more days only.

will you take the challange today?

2008-06-21T23:27:00.004+02:00

part of me feels like I'm 18 again. and no I never wanted to go back there.

but I was in the world feeling powerful and strong with not a clue how to handle it, I tried and I turned myself mad attempting to get a handle on it.

and here I am again, the whole world stretches out in front of me and I see such possibility, such incredible energy. It's not mine though, it's ours I see that now, and I don't have to own or control it I see that too.

I have gifts to explore, strengths to hold onto as well as an innocence and vulnerability to protect.

I'm new in my skin but my soul is very very old.

I have something to give to the world, I have something of value and it may just be a smile that might be all it takes, I'm not sure. But I'm back on path again.

I may fall off this path but I will always find my way back and although it has been many many years since I was last headed in this direction I feel like I've never been gone.

“Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous? Actually, who are you not to be? You are a child of God. Your playing small does not serve the world. There is nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won't feel insecure around you. We are all meant to shine, as children do. We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us. It's not just in some of us; it's in everyone. And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others.” -

Nelson Mandela

and just to be utterly trivial again: Have you voted? I did, I chose Malcom, because Malcom has a steady job, and a normal life like a people carrier, but in the back of his closet hang two flowery dresses he nicked off his mum for when he wants to have a little fun....

edit:
more trivia adding text to wordle...

my first and possibly last ever POLL please vote!

2008-06-19T18:01:00.006+02:00

So here are all the names, the poll shall go up soon and stay up until I leave at which point the name will be chosen, do vote and be part of this terribly important decision. If I manage to get a poll up and running you shall of course be in awe of my marvellous ability to tap keys and press buttons and hopefully you'll find it over there to the right:

I shall choose only the names I can live with, so please don't be offended (or do be .. as you wish) if your suggestion is missed out.

I believe you can vote without signing in or anything, so it's anonymous and fast and easy, so lurkers please do vote!

name that car, and a small rant.

2008-06-17T19:12:00.006+02:00

A request followed by a rant:
Dearest readers, I need a name for my car and I'd like YOU to choose it, a few nominations have been forthcoming such as Petal, Flower, Bertha, Mystery Machine.. But I KNOW you can do better....
come on, even those who are not commenting: click on the 'vodkas please' link at the bottom of this post, write a comment, tick anonymous box if you'd rather not be known or don't have a blogger account and give me a name, anything, just to start some ideas rolling. I'll pop my preferred ones up on a poll later.
THANK YOU!

update: names so far are:

The Hive

Blod or Blodyn (Welsh word for flower)

Narnia

Seryn (Serin) which means star.

Melissa (as it means honey bee)

"bluebell"? or you could make that "blue belle"

Petal,

Flower,

Bertha,

Mystery Machine

followed by: a rant, a short one but a rant,
I took my son to the doctor, to have his stitches out and the bandage changed.
Just a reminder, he is three (turned three mid March), and had his finger nail ripped out and the finger split down each side by a nasty accident with a door at school. He needed two stitches.
He walks into the surgery and starts to cry clinging to me, I can't reassure him it's not going to hurt, because it will, but I tell him it will be over soon and we are going for ice cream as a treat after. We never go for ice cream so he's calming down a little at the thought of such a treat.

In the surgery, the nurse and I hold him and the doctor pulls off the bandage, it's been bleeding, so the skin and bandage and bonded by caked on blood, it hurts, the wounds are still open, he cries. We continue to hold him whilst the doctor with a pair of pliers pulls out the two stitches.. He screams.
Afterwards crying my son can barely look at me he is so upset by how much that hurt, and somehow I am of course to blame. I feel awful for him, I'd take that pain ten times over if I could for him, but it's over. He does not stop crying, the sounds are muffled into my shoulder and his sobs are quieter.
doctor: "come come, it was not so bad"
son - sobbing
doctor: "it did not hurt, not so much what are you crying for?"
son- sobbing
doctor: "are you a baby? what's wrong with you why are you crying? silly boy"
me: "excuse me?"
doctor: "how old are you?
son- sobbing as I hold up three fingers rather speechless,
doctor: "I have a two year old grand son and you, you are three years old, whats wrong with you, you are just a big baby aren't you a big cry baby"
me: finding my voice at last: "and you sir, are one great big bully".

a three year old crying after a horrible procedure, no pain relief then has to be bullied by the doctor? Is this world going mad?
We'll not be going back, I'll get a nurse in England to check his finger out.

i'm filling my time

2008-06-16T21:42:00.004+02:00

I saw trapeze artists on wires in stiletto heels and business suits, I saw a push me pull me bike and rubber noses, I saw African dancing and joined in with the beat of the drum, I bought my one item of luxury for the road trip at a local brocante: an espresso coffee maker, and a camping stove to heat it:I worked a little on the car, can you spot the difference?

I cried and I laughed and I tickled my kids and yelled once or twice. It's been full of life the past few days. This trip is beginning to entice me, I'm starting to look forward amongst all my looking back.

A happy day. Car painting stage 1.

2008-06-13T17:21:00.004+02:00

so here we are... washing the car getting it super clean and ready for painting!

I'm having a HUGE amont of fun with this.

Here I am starting the spraying there is no going back..

More flowers everywhere flowers..

hmmmm, Zoe claims she's not responsible indeed she insisted I take this photo all I can say is check out her blue thumb...
More flowers!

more more and even more. The kids LOVE it and this is only stage one, more more more flowers to come.....

Both Zoe and I have the big blue thumbs up a VERY GOOD day indeed.

road trip? here I come...

below if this works is my very first utube video!

welcome friends..

2008-06-11T10:43:00.004+02:00

I just posted an email to all friends who live in the UK or spend a lot of time there asking for places to stay and ideas of places to visit... I last minute added this site as a place that I will update on my two month road trip.... arrrghhhhhh I've outed myself to my friends, so I thought I'd better put a welcoming note up to any of them who click through:
that's it really, I just thought it was a better welcome than my last miserable post.
x

a little space to call my own

2008-06-11T08:02:00.004+02:00

there is a little space -a broom cupboard really- in which my children's school have squeezed a toilet and a tiny sink. The teachers (for it is a staff only toilet) have decorated it with posters and painted it a fresh yellow colour. It has a window high up at the back always open which if one were to stand on the toilet seat on tiptoes one could see the school playground.
I know this spot very well, I got to know it when I was pregnant, I was afflicted with the urgent need to pee seemingly every five minutes so I could not do the school run without a break for the loo, but now it's my bolt hole.
There is something so emotional about dropping off my kids, my son has a ritual of kisses: one on the forehead, one on each cheek, then he pulls my head down and kisses m on the top of my head. He clings just one more time, limbs wrapped around me and then he's off playing with the toy animals. My daughter leaps into the classroom and immediately finds another girl to bond with, two heads bent over a book or a drawing together and I have to interrupt her to get a fleeting kiss and she's off again.
I had another BAD day on Monday.
I went to pick up bh to go get my sons dressing changed and arrived at the square in front of his work about a half hour early. The kids hot and sticky in the back had been off school all day and were frustrated and tired. I pulled into the square thinking I'd treat us all to coffee and fruit juice when I saw her.
My husband's mistress, the woman who told me she was sleeping with him. The woman who lied to my face when she swore it was only once, and she had not known he was married with kids. The woman my husband slept with many times, whom he wrote love letters to, whom he still sees every day and hangs out with at night and sleeps over with.
I really had no idea how much more pain I could feel. It was like being crushed all over again. I was fighting for air as I drove out of the square and on to a side street. I pulled over and wept.
I did not realise that there was a possibility of fresh pain. I thought I just had to handle what I was facing and in a sense I was 'over the worst'. Not so, not so at all.
so yes after a very shaky few days I'm still weeping in the little toilet. It's my refuge, I think the teachers know what's going on but wisely they say nothing.

I did make it to the blogmeet and it was lovely to see you all, I think breaking the seat and the genuine laughter that followed was the first time in ages I've been completely distracted!
x

my son the star

2008-06-06T21:07:00.005+02:00

My three year old son had an accident with a door yesterday, his entire nail was ripped out and he needed two stitches.
His reaction was to scream like crazy, grab me and weep and after his injection to numb the pain, then: smile laugh and play as normal.
We got home after the end of a long day and I found him play-fighting with his sister giggling away just holding his sore hand out of the way and making sure it didn't get bashed.
He grabs me to help him undress and go to the toilet and he tried to use his sore thumb today to get out of eating cabbage:
"mama, I can't, look mama my finger hurts and there is BLOOD, no cabbage mama, OK?"
nice try son.
Me? I almost fainted at his side when they stitched him up, was wobbly the rest of the day, and spent today in pajamas watching the first series of 4400 feeling sorry for myself.
PATHETIC, seriously, I look at kids and I reckon they have it right, it hurts so go get it fixed and get on with it. I looked at my son today and I'm fairly sure that at this age if he lost a leg in a terrible accident, he'd just drag himself around on the other and carry on playing.
I can't help but look at my limping example and wish I had the ability to let go so well.
He's a star to me my son, brave, strong and he knows how to be happy.
BIG hugs to Zoe, who was there when I got the call from the school (I was meant to be painting my car at her house) - she came with me to the doctor, and let us curl up on her sofa after. Thank you, it would have been hellish to do it alone.
It's a small insignificant thing, one little finger nail, in fact the doctor looked at me really worried and said "I'm sorry, we did the best we could, but it will probably never be the same again" and I almost laughed.
A finger tip, that's all. He's alive, healthy and no longer in pain and he's a star.
who cares if the finger tip looks a little different? I hope he'll feel that way too once he grows up.
Kids have all the answers, I swear.

My road trip....

2008-06-01T09:08:00.003+02:00

I have nine weeks with the kids this summer holiday.

And I intend to spend most of it on the road.
My unappealing people carrier shall be transformed with flowers (I have bought the paint I just need to make the stencils and start), I shall take out all but three of the seats and make a cosy bed in the back.

The children and I will travel across the United Kingdom visiting friends, Quaker houses, and artist colonies.. which is what I am currently researching. I'm mad as a hornet that my note book got stolen, because I had everyone I met who had any input to add an address or thought down.

I'm looking for places that artists gather. I want to see how artists commune, perhaps share a gallery or two, paint together ambush clients together that sort of thing. As a group artists are far stronger than alone and I've been aware for a while that it's something I need. So either in the distant future a place I could move to or a place I could research to help me create right here.

I read the book 'diggers and dreamers' (thanks for the advice 'J') but it really looked more at communes, not quite what I had in mind. I'm thinking specifically artists.

So any one from the UK and Ireland got any ideas? Places on the must visit list?

Sorry this post is so dry, I'm in a bit of an organising mood!

a bad day

2008-05-30T16:14:00.003+02:00

I've had a bad day.
I woke up realising I'd forgotten to explain to bh who was manning the kids this morning in an attempt to let me lie in for once that they needed to be extra specially ready early as it was swimming today. So I haul my sorry self down the stairs to be greeted with "aren't you up yet"? Turns out some major misunderstanding means when I thought he was staying over on the couch last night having taken his sister (who is visiting) out, he was staying so that he could take care of the kids in the morning, and go to do a house viewing at 8:30. Thus leaving me with a lie in. But no, I'm wrong. Completely, so I get myself up and across town 45 mins later to be at the house. I let myself in as the person renting is out and the alarm goes off. This would be fine except she's reset the code and I don't have it. So the alarm goes berserk. I reach for my phone to ask the number, and no phone. I must have left it at home. I can't leave the property as a) the alarm is going and b) the person considering renting the property will be turning up any second.
So after a while of thinking I grab a passer by and beg to use their phone. Bh's number at least is in my head, and he can phone the person renting the house and phone back.. and he does and she is not answering her phone. So I thank passer by and feel a little bit more desperate.
Turns out my alarm turns itself off after half an hour, interesting but I'm still stuck outside the house.
I decide to leave a note and go sit in a coffee shop for another half hour before trudging home.
Possible renter had not turned up and I'd just gotten out of bed for no good reason. I get home by 10:15am and find bh's sister piling things in her car, I leave the door open and go inside to grab some breakfast. I get back to find my handbag which I'd slung in the doorway was gone. No one had seen anything.
All my money, my cards, my ID card, my driving license, my car papers, my fancy mp3 player, my sketch book, my note book with all my plans and addresses for the summer and my good pens for drawing in, my beautiful leather bag: all gone.
The worst loss was a laminated card that came with the tree we bought to plant over Nancy Grace's grave. I carried that card every where I went. I often got it out and stroked it. It means NOTHING to anyone else.
I managed to hold on until bh's sister and her son had finaly gone and I collapsed in a heap.
I cried and cried and cried. Mostly for Nancy Grace, for the loss of my husband, and a little for the bag. I wept, I screamed, I howled for at least an hour.
I cancelled my cards over the phone and spent two and a half hours at the police station getting my 'attestation' for a new ID card. When the police man laughed at me mentioning the apple tree card, I cried again and had to explain and he was so sorry, and I was so sorry and it's just such a shitty day.
Can someone rewind and I'll start again? I'll just stay in bed this time OK?

Miscarriage.. what not to say:

2008-05-25T13:54:00.006+02:00

Well I feel a little mean writing this post, because mostly things were said in love by people who truly care and really just don't have a clue what to say and need to say something comforting, I get it I really do but still for the future, here is what not to say:

"Now you have angel looking after you" (It's the belief thing again, but also I don't find that much of a solace, I DO smile when I see her tree, but I'd rather have my baby of course.)
"its for the best" (some people said this so earnestly and I'd just look at them like they were mad. How in what way is this for the best?)
"At least you didn't know your baby!"(Ok, I never held her alive but she was real to me. I felt her inside me I daydreamed about her, I named her, I wanted her.)
"There must have been something wrong" (well obviously, but this is compounded by the commenter than going on to say: "you would not have wanted a handicapped child" Actually yes I would choose a handicapped child over a dead one any day).
" Did you do something you weren't supposed to do?"(lovely so now I'm to blame too? On top of grief you want me to feel guilty? Well I do, I feel like crap because my body couldn't hold her but I really try not to dwell.)
"Be grateful for the children you have!"(I am but I still need to mourn the one I have lost.)
"It won't happen again"(I never believed it would happen to me, I now realise it can and I'd be terrified if I got pregnant again, I weep for the women I know who have lost more than one. It CAN happen again.)
"Be brave, don't cry"(why on earth not!!!?)
"You're young, you'll get over it" (what does age have to do with pain!?)
"Time will heal" (Time will make the pain easier to bear yes,but that is no help at the moment unless you have a time machine)
"At least it wasn't older" (it still matters though and I still feel the pain. In fact anything starting with 'at least' sounds like the person is trying to desensitise the miscarriage).
"It was Gods will" (don't get me started).
"Three children are too many to deal with, I was disappointed you got pregnant again. It really is a relief.." (I lost my ability to talk, I was indeed rendered speechless).

and for those of you wondering what to say, there are only seven little words that work:

"I am so sorry for your loss."

meanwhile:

My daughter asked me recently to eat more.

"why sweetheart? I've had plenty and I'm full"

"because then your belly will get big again and we can have a new baby. Please mama please eat more"

will you do me a favour.. please?

2008-05-21T19:36:00.003+02:00

My friend Alice has just found out that her IVF failed, on the same day as the anniversary of her daughter Laura's death. She started a blog to help her with the ongoing trauma of what has happened to her and the continued hell of infertility treatments.
She's new to all this blogging and so does not have so many followers to comment (not yet.. she will, she writes beautifully). Any how to cut a long story short. Her most recent post attracted a horrible comment obviously from 'anonymous' (boy does he/she get around).
Can you read and if you feel moved let her have a loving comment please? I know I don't have that many readers (I love all of you who do read and thank you!) but if each of you could pop over, it would make anon's comment that bit more unimportant.
It would mean a lot to me also.
THANK YOU
xxx

CLICK here to go to the post in question.

Meanwhile, me... lol yes I'm getting self indulgent aren't I! Thank you for your lovely comments on my wallowing post below. I've just been feeling so overwhelmed and getting nothing done.. arrrghhhhh and there really is soooo much to do. The new house needs renting out again, the person in it has to move out her business just collapsed. I feel really bad for her, but right now I really don't have the energy to go chasing new tenants.. re advertising etc.
Dh is talking about a move to London, which just drove it all home. I found a mediation lawyer but she has not returned my call. I'm struggling to retry, I must but I just can't pick up the phone. I've been feeling very very sorry for myself. There is a lot of other stuff I just cannot go into here, but believe me it's not good and I swing from being very sad to furious. It's all very exhausting. The one thing that I'm keeping good is the kids. They are getting their healthy food, their pack lunches, the clean clothes, baths, hug and play time.. but that's it. Pretty much everything else has gone to pot. as the aunt said: arrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrggggggggggggghhhhhhh and pass me the bagel.

2008-05-17T21:42:00.003+02:00

i can't paint

i can't clean the house

i can't plan

i can't be happy

i'm not happy

i want to paint again

i want a clean house

i want to be happy again

that's where i am right now, and that's why i'm not posting

just in case you were wondering

all the colours in our garden!

2008-05-08T21:01:00.000+02:00

send me a sign..

2008-05-07T21:11:00.005+02:00

I was walking along the road last night.. minding my own business when I saw in the distance up high in the sky a square of white fluttering high up.

I watched it's slow winding descent, a square of paper seemingly headed my way.

I decided as a game that whatever was on that piece of paper would be a signal.

A sign that would speak to me through the chaos of my life.

Whatever was on that paper I would take direction from it.

In fact I had fun working myself up to a state nearing excitement as the paper rested a few meters ahead of me on the pavement.

As I neared it, my heartbeat quickened as did my pace....

What would my future hold??

There was a drawing on the paper, as it landed face up, it made me laugh so hard tears flew out of my eyes. I scanned it in for you all to share:

I'm not kidding.

Glasgow visit

2008-05-06T11:47:00.008+02:00

"Pure dead brilliant" are the enigmatic words that great you as the aeroplane cruises into dock at Prestwick International Airport.

Quite how that translates into x many languages I have no idea I'm assuming it could be read rather threateningly if you didn't know that 'dead' can substitute for 'very' in Glaswegian vernacular. Such as 'pure dead brilliant' actually just means 'very good indeed'. You'd be forgiven for bening confused by some other local treats such as the 'Glasgow Kiss' and the 'Glasgow Smile', the former referring to being head butted (broken nose etc.) and the latter to being sliced up the corners of your mouth on each side to give a scarred permanent joker effect in a knife attack.

But onto more cheery subjects.

My four day stay was mostly to see a couple of older friends in Glasgow and Edinburgh.

I spent some of the time visiting allotments in each city, beautifully kept, lush, busy spaces.

Then I also had my birthday night out. I managed to pull together a nice eclectic mix of good friends: a taxi driver, an artist, an eye therapist, a computer programmer, a chef and a waitress /massage therapist.

We had a great night out, included in this were being serenaded on the Glasgow 'toy' tube by the entire carriage with 'happy birthday' followed by 'for shes a jolly good fellow', 'oh flower of Scotland' 'kum by ya' and 'if I would walk 500 miles'. They got a little carried away..

I'm happy to see Glasgow fashion has moved on since the last time I was there, all white and plastic has turned fluorescent:

and at the end of a good night out, we looked in on an odd vernisage in the 'Project Room':I was busy enjoying the view out the windows:
so yes, happy birthday to me! Must change my profile.. one year on.

notes on loss

2008-05-04T18:42:00.004+02:00

it seems to me that grief is a horrendous state, not quite shy of madness.
i believe it helped to look each day at something beautiful and although that beauty sometimes ripped at my very soul and bled me of yet more unbearable pain.. i could with increasing ease slip into the moment and see just at that point beauty.
a patch of blue sky
the warm sunlight
a flower blossoming
wide eyes of a new born baby
when i managed and it was not always. i became still in the moment. i held the beauty that was before me and for that brief time i was happy.
the world with it's wars and sufferings and lies is a place of terrible things and yet everywhere around us there is also such beauty. to survive this world and to be able to do so with a smile is to see the beauty in the close up everyday. to see the simple joy around us in nature and natural things.
i spent much time crying, sobbing with a stone heavy in my heart. it's still there the heaviness, the tears have mostly dried but i feel the weight and i realise how important it is to breathe, to breathe in the calmness and breathe out with a smile. each day that smile will grow and each day i become a little calmer and a little stronger and yes, a little happier.
perhaps this is the happiness i have been searching for, the calmness of the soul found in just being ... nothing more and nothing less.

I wrote the above a few days ago and was waiting to post it when I got home. Today I went to the Glasgow Quaker Meeting House (I'm on a visit) and at the end of the silent meeting, the librarian offered books for donations that were no longer needed in the library.
I needed one book for my journey home and had intended to go to the charity shops after the meeting to find one so I took this opportunity. In the three boxes of books available one book jumped out. by the same author ( Thich Nhat Hanh) as the wonderful poem which helped me through my first mad days of grief.
in this book I found these words;

Breathing in, I calm my body.
Breathing out, I smile.
Dwelling in the present moment
I know this is a wonderful moment.

I knew I had to publish the post, and I am no longer amazed. There really seems to be no such thing as coincidences.

image by axinia

how do you tell kids that daddy has moved out?

2008-04-29T16:48:00.003+02:00

ok so it was my turn to shout in public today..
I was on my way to my children's school to have a meeting with the school councellor to ask how I should best let a three and four year old know their parents are getting divorced, and how to deal with their questions.. There was an accident on the motorway and as we crawled along I got more stressed. I hate to be late.
In true Honey style I arrived ten minutes early, but flustered and a little nervous. I stood at the glass door of the playground looking out. My kids were playing. And there was my daughter upside down on the climbing frame skirt over her face laughing her head off. Inviting all the kids to hit her bottom and pull her knickers down.
I breathed, reasoned with myself that this was normal four year old behaviour, the teacher facing her sitting on a bench certainly did not seem worried and it was all laughter and fun. I tried to breathe again and it all came flooding back, all the abuse all the fears all the hurt. I looked at her on one hand as a normal child and on the other hand an abused child with no boundaries and I snapped. I marched past the teacher grabbed my kid sent stony looks the teacher's way and took my daughter to a quiet place where I told her off for letting other kids touch her bottom. he playground teacher turned up and I was angry at her for letting this happen....
NOT my finest hour.
I ended up being gently led away by another teacher, and bursting into tears sitting at one of those mini stools they have for toddlers. They waere all terribly understanding and concerned.
Mad parent alert.
And then I STILL had to have the 'divorced parents' talk.
ugh.
So how do you tell toddlers/infants that daddy has moved out and won't be living there anymore?

"darlings, your daddy is going to have to work away from home a lot more"
"sweetpeas, your daddy and mummy don't want to live together anymore but we still love you"
"kids, your daddy's a lying bastard scumbucket and he can't live here anymore because otherwise I might have to kill him."

I got the below from ivillage:
• Tell your children that when you were married you loved each other, so they won't feel they were conceived in anger.
• Tell them that they are not responsible for the separation and divorce, and highlight specific examples. For instance, "We are not getting a divorce because you didn't put your toys away."
• Ask your children what they think the word "divorce" means. You may be surprised by what they say.
• Tell them that you and their father will have separate homes, but that you will both continue to be their parents.
• Tell them about the custody and visiting arrangements you have in mind. Ask for their suggestions and assure them that you will consider their needs and wishes to every extent possible.
• Don't deprecate or scapegoat your spouse. Explain that because you and your husband can't make your marriage work, you've decided to divorce to help everyone in the family.
• Offer ongoing support. Explain that divorce is a "conversation for a lifetime" and is a subject that should remain open between you and your child.

suggestions welcome (silly and serious): the comment box is open...