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For the avoidance of doubt... Yes... I definitely have an opinion... |
 Welcome to my Blog!! Having an opinion is better than not having a thought of your own. I have many of both.... Pull up a pew and grab a hot, steaming mug of your choice. |
| Prompt: Friday the 13th is considered an unlucky day in Western superstition. Did you know according to the Stress Management Center and Phobia Institute in Asheville, North Carolina, an estimated 17–21 million people in the United States are affected by Paraskevidekatriaphobia (fear of Friday the 13th), making it the most feared day and date in history. Are you superstitious? Do you know people who are afraid of Friday the 13th? Do you carry some kind of lucky charm? Do you avoid activities because of the date? *** No – I’m not superstitious. Well… not really… Ok here’s the thing. I do a lot of superstitious stuff out of habit. I don’t actually believe that anything bad will happen if I don’t /do something, but I automatically just do things. It’s like superstitious OCD or a weird superstitious programming. I wore blue to my wedding (and something old, new, and borrowed). I cross my fingers for luck. I touch wood. I will pick a penny up. And I look out for the third death or event of misfortune if two have happened close together – because THEY COME IN THREES…. Most people will be aware or heard that if you break a mirror, you get seven years bad luck, or the need to toss spilled salt over your left shoulder. Most children would have sung a song about not stepping on cracks, or magpies and crows – one for sorrow, two for joy. People actively refuse to walk under a ladder and panic if a black cat crosses their path… Itchy feet mean you are going to go travel. Itchy palm means money is going to cross your palm. Ears burning – someone is talking about out. A chill… it must be a ghost. Most of it is ground in pagan beliefs and has been passed down through the centuries. And that’s before we go searching for four-leafed clovers or lopping of rabbits’ feet. Our lives are packed full of them. I love reading and writing about superstitions. I am always amazed how many are woven into our traditions and everyday lives and yet how so many people don’t realise the ties they have to witchcraft, wicca, and paganism. The witch-craft element is the reason I love it all so much. I write supernatural stuff which has a core of European/Celtic/Welsh mythology. I don’t know if I write it because I love it, or I love it because I have immersed myself in it to write it. Either way it all ties up nicely... I have a book full of superstitions. I study it and lace little nuggets into my stories; for example, one of my characters is named Wren after a water bird that is considered good fortune around bodies of water – she happens to save another character from drowning – it’s the sole reason I chose her name. That book has so many tags sticking out of it. Every other page there is something else I want to draw on. Separately, one of my friends was born on Friday the 13th. She wasn’t supposed to be, but another woman in hospital at the time was so freaked out about her baby being born on such a terrible day that she refused to be induced. My friend’s mum didn’t either way, and so she took her place. I think that was one of the stories that made me decide that I wanted the number 13 to be my lucky number… and in turn Friday the 13th to be my favourite day – it’s a child logic, but it’s still true now that I’m an adult. Good things can happen on it. |
| Prompt: How do you approach self reflection and how has it impacted your understanding of life? *** I have always been pretty good at self-reflection. I usually know when I'm in the wrong or right. When I should apologise for something or stand my ground. My stubborn streak means that sometimes I dig me heels in a little too far and for a little too long, but I still know that I will/should eventually relent (or not). Time is a great tool in self-reflection. Perspective and experience often go hand in hand. As does being willing to listen to the advice and views of others. Sometimes that means listening to harsh truths or hearing things I don't want to hear. Time helps to process all of that. Sitting still and making space to process things is important, because I can't take back my actions - I just have to weather the fall out. And as someone who is reactionary (thanks mum) and who has a short fuse (thanks again mum), it is a lesson that I have learnt and had reinforced time and time again. It is a case of picking my battles and being honest with myself. Because I cannot lie to myself, at least not forever. I am the one that has to live inside my head... live with myself. That being said it can be hard to be entirely honest with oneself all the time. No one likes to be under a microscope or to look too closely in the mirror. You inevitably find cracks and imperfections - I just happen to like my imperfections and flaws. I find them character building. Self-reflection allows me to grow and improve as a person as well as in my capabilities. It challenges me to do better and push myself to new heights. |
| Prompt: Write about a day you would like to forget. *** There are only two days that I'd rather forget. Both of which are traumatic for very different reasons. All the others I either have forgotten already or don't affect me anymore. The one I'd write about is the day I lost my dad. It's the most palatable out of the two. It's a day I wish didn't exist rather than one I want to forget - which I think are two different things. I only remember the moment I received the phone call. I can't recall what I was doing beforehand, and I can't really remember what I did after it. I just remember the phone call. I remember standing by the window. My sister being on the other end telling me "It's Dad. He's gone!", "Gone where?", "He's dead." Apparently, I cried out. I don't recall that. But I must have because my mum heard me took the phone off my sister to try and calm me down. My mother-in-law who was visiting us ran upstairs to get my husband. I can't even recall if I was holding my four-week-old daughter... I remember saying "Oh my god, he never got to meet Theia." I think my mother said, "Just hold Theia and give her cuddles." between tears. But everything else is hazy. I think I went into some type of autopilot. I didn't emotionally shutdown - I just got stuck in a denial, sobbing, staring into space loop... Grief is strange - I can't really remember much about the day, but the feelings. They hit immediately... even now. Still as strong and potent as ever. That feeling of loss. True loss. The type that never goes away. But strangely I don't want to forget the feeling either. I like the pain of it, because it means he meant something to me. That he was and is important. I just wish I never had to experience it. |
| Prompt: Life "Life is a song - sing it. Life is a game - play it. Life is a challenge - meet it. Life is a dream - realize it. Life is a sacrifice - offer it. Life is love - enjoy." Sai Baba What do you love about life? *** Life is what you make of it. It's what you put into it. It's the stance and perspective you take when it throws coconuts at you. It's hard work. And tears. And heartbreak. As much as it's joy and happiness and fluffy bunnies. It is also the only one we have - there are no do-overs. And that is what I think I love about it. I like that it can be messy. I appreciate the pain it can bring and lessons that follow. I like that it's fragile, because it matters and should be nurtured. Sometimes it's only after the storms that you appreciate the calm. It's often the storms that bring the perspective. It's certainly not the highs... which are often short-lived and hollow. When we were trying to have our first child, we really struggled. We had to go through IVF... and because the doctors didn't really know what was wrong (we were are the very start of the journey) we didn't know if the procedure would work. Was it the fertilisation that was the problem....? the implantation...? We had be granted three rounds of IVF on the NHS (seriously the NHS is amazing and I was so lucky and grateful to be in the UK during this time). I had started the daily injections - I actually got pretty damn good at turning myself into a pincushion - the eggs would be ripened and collected and then fertilised. I was responding to all the hormones and felt like a fat bottomed chicken. But there was no guarantee that the eggs would be of a high enough grade, or that they'd fertilise and develop into embryos, or that the implantation would happen, or stick and that was before the normal pregnancy pitfalls.... My point is, a lot of things could go wrong and it might never work... that was a hard thing to admit / comprehend. In fact, the whole process can be so stressful that it can break couples apart. We had to go for counselling around this issue to make sure we were prepared and going into things with open eyes (nhs again... I love you). It was during these sessions that I had to contemplate my life. I had to examine what mattered. And as it turned out what mattered was my husband and my furbaby. I remember sitting in the car and realising that even though I'd be devastated if it was just the three of us that I would be ok. That they were enough for me. It's when I realised I loved my life. I love my husband and the life we have made. I love the twists and turns of our journey (once we are at the otherside). I am lucky that I get to love my son and daughter. Because the IVF worked and H came tumbling along two years later, naturally. I still love my furbaby... and now I love my scaley baby... lol I hate that my car got stolen, but I love that I have multiple friends who wanted to help out, two even offered their cars... I love my family overseas. I love the ones not here anymore. There is a lot to love. |
| Prompt - Pets. Do you like pets? Why do you think some of us love pets more than anything? Did you ever have a pet that impacted your life in a big way? *** I love having pets. I have had them all my life. I can think of very few periods where there wasn’t some type of animal in my life. Even when I moved out on my own, I considered my mother’s dog, my dog. During my childhood we had a cat (Cuddles), a dog (Shadow), hamsters (Whiskey and Pinky), mice, and fish, and many, many budgies (Sunshine, Magic, Jovi, Berry… Blue 1 and Blue 2). There was even a cockatiel name Sybil. When I was in college we had another dog – a Japanese Spitz named Flash. My brother also brought a Rhodesian Ridgeback home called Zuki. The house was always full of animals. It still is. Now that I’m all grown up (hahaha), my husband and I have an aging Akita named Indy and a six-month-old, bearded dragon called Bernie. We’ve had Indy since she was eight weeks old, she is now thirteen. We’ve seen her go from mischievous puppy to grumpy old girl. We brought her across when we moved to Australia; I think it cost more to get her across with passport, vaccination, flight and quarantine than it did to get me across with my visa fees – it was a stipulation of me emigrating, she had to come with us…. We got her just after we were married and despite promising she wouldn’t be spoilt… she was – in a very doggy way – lots of toys and treats. When we struggled to conceive and we realised it could just be the three of us, she became even more central to our family unit. She was the first to notice when I was pregnant. She instinctively knew to be less bouncy… She has been the best and most patient big sister to both our kids. She was even Theia’s first word… I maybe a little miffed “mama” got beat out by the dog… We could not ask for a better pet. Bernie – well he’s a dragon. Grumpy, greedy, always eating… growing so quickly. His life expectancy is between 15-25 years… so he is going to be around for a long time. He already has MANY different toys/additions for his tank… He’s already spoilt… I think Indy and Bernie also plays an important role with our children. They have taught them patience, responsibility, the progression of time and life, and unconditional love. Something that I learnt from all my pets. |
| Prompt: Minor mishaps. Which kinds of minor mishaps annoy you the most, minor mishaps such ah getting drenched in the rain, dropping something, annoying phone calls, etc. Then, when such a thing happens, how do you handle it at the moment that it happens? *** I think it depends on what else is going on or what my general emotional state is as to whether I will get annoyed with the minor mishap or just laugh it off. I can have a short fuse - so I may erupt like a mini volcano. Or I can shut down in a type of denial and ignore it. I can be short and snappy for a couple of hours. Or I can laugh at myself and the situation. It's a bit like Russian roulette - you never know what's going to happen. I remember being caught out in the rain with no coat while I ran to catch a bus and finding it funny despite the fact I still had a 40-minute journeys on the bus and my clothes were clinging to me. I remember being caught out in the rain during a run and being soaked through - but actually enjoying it. But equally I remember stepping in a puddle that was deeper than I thought on my way to work, my shoes and socks getting completely soaked through, and being extremely agitated by it - I had to walk around bare foot in the office until they dried. It's swing and roundabouts. I hate it when we run out of milk in the morning; when the kids use the last of it up by drowning their cereal, and there is nothing left for my tea; especially when most of it is left in the bottom of the bowl... I'm then grumpy until I get to the cafe or shops. I handle stubbing my toes, or banging by elbow way better than my husband, who swears like a trooper. But both of those are minor compared to the list of accidents and injuries I can gotten into over the years - which is probably why they are nothing more than water off a duck's back. I used to burn my wrists on the shelves in the oven frequently (once a week). I'm not sure how or why, but every time I would reach in a retrieve a tray, I would catch the side of my wrist. I would be bound with special burn plasters and wrappings to the point that my work colleagues if I had something I wanted/needed to tell them (I looked like an advert for self-harm). They were minor mishaps that I still have the scars for. Not major events that really mattered and too frequent to get overly dramatic about. It became a running joke in work that one year at Christmas the Sales Director bought me oven gloves and plasters. My son once (recently) flooded the bathroom. He covered the drain in the shower, and it flowed up and over the shower basin and covered the floor with half an inch of water. There was so much water that is leaked through the ceiling into the toilet downstairs that it looked like an indoor water feature through the light/fan. It could have blown the electrics - it didn't. The floor could have been damaged and needed replacing - it didn't. I'm still not sure why he didn't just turn off the shower. He was six at the time. It took ages to clean up. Nearly every towel in the house. I was fuming - shouted a lot. My son felt very guilty. I felt guilty for shouting... in the grand scheme of things it was a minor inconvenience. 40 minutes later the tiles were dry, a bucket was collecting the residual waterfall, and the carpet in the hall was starting to dry. I know when I'm under the pump and stressed, or there have been a series of things that have gone wrong, the smallest thing will break "the camel's back" and I will crack - cry - shut down. It's like the safety valve for the rest of the world, so that I don't commit murder... It's my way of recalibrating. |
| Prompt - June 7th celebrates Chocolate Ice Cream Day. What's your favourite way to enjoy ice cream by itself or as a side? Favourite flavour? *** I am lactose intolerant, which means I cannot enjoy ice-cream without consequences or unless it is the lactose free/dairy alternative. In general, I don't think the dairy alternatives are not as nice as regular ice-cream (it tends to taste icy rather than creamy), and most lactose free versions only really come in vanilla - which is nice but limited. So, I guess my favourite is vanilla by default. I do tend to opt of sorbet when we are out and about - strawberry, raspberry and mango are my favs. Anything fruity! Summer in Australia = ice-cream and they have some amazing ice-creameries with so many different flavours - I have even seen a vegemite flavoured ice-cream  Defiantly not for me...I LOVE vanilla as a flavour. I tend to triple to volume of it in recipes - particularity when I bake brownies. I also like the fact that I can had lots of toppings depending on my fancy that day: chocolate sauce, hundreds and thousands (sprinkles to you Americans), chopping nuts etc... it's basically an ice-cream sundae regardless of whether it is in a cone or bowl. Vanilla is also one of my favourite scents for candles, oils, and simmer pots. I find it relaxing and homely. |
| Prompt - On June 6, 1933, eager motorists parked their automobiles on the grounds of Camden Drive-In, the first-ever drive-in movie theater, located on Admiral Wilson Boulevard in Pennsauken, New Jersey. Have you been to a drive-in movie? If you have been to a drive-in was it with family or with friends or on a date? If you haven't been to a drive-in, can you remember a movie that featured scenes with drive-ins? *** I'm writing this on the fly... well train to be exact. Heading home after a long week. I would ordinarily be getting in to my car once I arrived at the train station, but some tw@ has stolen my car and taken it for a joy ride. My hubby just got a phone call from the police as someone has reported the car as driving dangerously and erratically... they are in pursuit. I doubt I'll have an intact car by this evening. And it can't remember if the insurance has a courtesy car included. Needless to say I will not be going to a drive in movie this weekend! I have never been to a drive-in movie. The weather doesn't really scream outdoor movie in the UK. To many chances of rain. I'm not even sure if they have them in Australia.... they feel like a US thing. I base this solely on Greese and Travolta... so the only drive in movie I have ever seen is the cartoon about the hotdog doing circus tricks and then jumping in the bun. |
| Prompt: Do you use Apps on your phone? What are your favourite Apps? *** I use lots of apps Facebook, Instagram, WhatsApp, Messenger, various bank apps, Novelist, Story Plotter, School and childcare apps, the kids activities apps - gymnastics, Parkour, and Circus - there are apps for EVERYTHING. The world is online and "on the go" - I don't think it would keep turning is there were not apps to help us run our lives. I wouldn't be able to keep in touch with my family and friends back in the UK as easily if I didn't use apps. They are the ones that I use the most. Coffee groups, parents' group, book club, sometimes we just send memes and GIFs at each other - my niece and I can have whole conversations without typing a word. I send my mum photos of the kids to help her feel connected with them, and so she does feel like she's missing out. I even send her the digital copies of the school photos so she can print them out. We are contemplating one of other digital frame where I can just upload photos and they appear on her frame at home. I have to book childcare spot through their app. I have to log absences at the school and activities via the app. I can book extra session and pay tuition fees... it's very convenient. I can organise my UK bank and payments while I'm in Australia. Send money at a drop of the hat. Log ideas on the various writing ones I have. I even access writingdotcom on my photo - though that is through Edge and not an app. I even my train ticket/pass is on my phone!! |
| Prompt: What color do you feel like today and why? Write about this in your Blog entry today. *** I feel grey… I wasn’t sure whether I would write to the prompt today, I didn’t want to write about something mundane or analysis a quote, when I feel the way I do. I wasn’t sure whether I would even write a post. But it turns out that the prompt, surreptitiously, worked with how I feel and maybe it will be cathartic. Last night my husband sat me down and let me know that he’d spoken to my best friend’s husband and he’d let him know that his brain cancer had returned. My husband didn’t know how to tell me. He knew I’d be devastated for both my best friend and her husband. And I was. I am. When we lived in the UK we were all incredible close. Games night, random coffee trips. Clair visited me so many times while I was in hospital having my daughter (I was hospitalised at 30 weeks along and had to stay in hospital until a schedule c-section at 37 weeks). She brought me hot chocolate, and tea, and chocolate cake. She kept me sane. And Phil was a point of sanity for my husband while we were apart. My husband and I even spoke about who we would want our kids to go to if anything happened to us, and it was always Clair and Phil – even above our family. We love them like they are family - because they are, just not by blood. When we moved to Australia 5 years ago, we left them behind physically. But there are emails, and texts, and video calls, and random presents that arrive through the post to remind us that we may be on opposite sides of the world but never far from each other’s hearts and thoughts. We cheer the kids on when they pass another taekwondo belt or pass a driving test. So, to be on this side of the world when they are going through this is numbing. Except I'm not numb, I'm all over the place. Phil was diagnosed last year. He went through treatment; Clair took a year off work to support and care for him – I almost jumped on a plane at that point. The treatment worked, the cancer responded and we all blew a collective sigh of relief. But it’s come back. There is little treatment left that will work. They are starting to look at hospice visits. And my husband and I are stuck on the other side of the world unable to do anything useful. We can’t lighten the load. We can’t just drop by for moral support or a good cry. I wish I could be angry about the whole thing – and a part of me is – but there is nowhere to direct it. I feel the anger build up, and then it just sinks back down into the pit of my stomach to fester to the point I feel sick. And I can’t stop crying – but what I’m feeling is nothing in comparison to what I know Clair must be feeling, to what Phil and their girls must be feeling. It pales in comparison and that just makes it worse because we’re here and they are there. We are going to go back in a few weeks. We’re trying to sort out annual leave, passports, visas, and dog and lizard sitting etc… I honestly don’t know if it’s for us or them. I mean, we’re literally planning on jumping on a plane just to give them a hug… best $10k ever spent… I’ll have to get my act together by then, because what use will I be to her otherwise. So, yes… I feel grey. |
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