Has anyone ever written anything for you?

There was a saying often quoted to me as a child that 

“Sticks and stones may break my bones 

but words will never hurt me”

Thankfully we recognise all too well these days that some words can be very damaging. 

I have had plenty of things said to me in the past that on a bad day can still weigh my down and I can trace back a lot of my own insecurities to a few key spoken words and phrases which have left the deepest of scars.

I’ve been very aware over the past week how many other people out there have been stung by a misplaced and careless word too. Some of which I will admit have probably fallen from my own lips and I am truly sorry.

But I don’t really want to dwell on the bad, sad words any more than necessary, instead I want to delight in the happy words and compliments I have been given, especially recently.

It started two days ago when out of the blue I received a compliment on Twitter about my hair!

Without boasting I have to say that my hair has always been one of my best features, long, luxurious and now the colour comes from a bottle probably even more striking!

Now I’m the type of girl who gives compliments to strangers all the time when I meet them.

“I love your dress/coat/hair colour/shoes /nail varnish etc etc!”

But these are compliments from one girl to another and my kind words the other day were from a man I’d never met, just a follower of a friend and our paths crossed for the briefest of moments.

He just made a comment in a Tweet that my hair was AWESOME in capital letters just like that! WOW!

I don’t know how I’m supposed to react in these situations; I usually blush, get tongue tied and feel like I am fourteen again! My finger hovers precariously over the send button wondering if I should tweet back. 

However for once I just responded politely saying thank you while quietly smiling to myself. I am beginning to learn how to graciously accept kind words when they are given. It is something we all seem to need to learn.

But then yesterday I had a whole string of words written for me, actually an entire poem.

I have always, desperately wanted someone to write something for me, the nearest I got to Andrew writing anything was a shopping list of what we needed from B & Q!

My special poem is not a romantic love poem in the traditional sense. It is about my love for Andrew and the boys, words about loss, finding the strength to carry on, dry my tears and laugh again.

The man who wrote my poem for me also suffered an unexpected bereavement around the same time I did, because of this I know his kind words are written straight from the heart and are therefore extra special. I am truly flattered he took the time out to write this for me, I know it wasn't easy.

However it really doesn’t take much to make people feel loved. A poem is not always required and you are stuck for words to say; a smile, even the smallest compliment, a “like” on Facebook or “favourite” on Twitter will often do the trick and let people know you care.

But if perchance you do decide to write or speak just be sure you always use the kindest of words in all situations because words somehow last forever, buried deep and lasting long in our memories when all else is faded.

Kind words rescue us from the saddest days, make us bolder and somehow fortify us for what lies ahead.

Honestly I haven’t stopped smiling since I watched my poem appearing on the Twitter time line and in preparation for that day when my smile slowly begins to diminish I have printed out a copy ready to read those beautiful words once more and just smile! 

Or if I cry it will be those happy kind of tears, the ones that fall when you realise you are loved and someone out there really cares...

The land of make believe where the little blue birds tweet…

I admitted a while back that been extra distracted of late and my mood has altered very little since. I’m still here in a house I can’t sell feeling stuck, thinking my life will never change for the better!

To that end I’ve been avoiding the real world, hiding my paperwork and trying to escape the overwhelming grief that is so stubborn it won’t go! 

However I know from past experience that my moods are subject to change very quickly and this can’t last much longer can it? 

And while I wait for some excitement in my life there is always Twitter, my latest favourite waste of time!

Only a few months ago I decided to give up Twitter altogether just because I was getting bored with it and couldn’t see the point of following the people I did.

My timeline then was filled mostly with two sorts of people

·         Writers promoting their latest blogs posts/ books/stories and I don’t feel like a “writer” anymore. Was I ever? Isn’t it all just hype spinning out of control?

·         And Christians expounding lots of wisdom that I didn’t always want to hear. God may have a plan for me but he is keeping it so secret I am totally frustrated to the point of falling out with him on a daily basis!

In the end I didn’t delete my account, somehow I knew I’d have a change of heart and in the last few months I have added a third group of people I follow and who follow me - my #Musketeer friends. 

And I hold my hands up and admit I now spend so much time on Twitter my best friend has to tweet me to get my attention because I don’t always answer her texts!

It all started with conversations about which musketeer/actor we fancied most – we are like a bunch of giggly schoolgirls sometimes and it is so good to laugh and daydream – I’ve reverted to being a teenager again!

It’s crazy to think they would be too old for me if I were still a teenager and they are far too young now I am somewhere in my forties (let’s just leave my exact age out of this - I've told you before anyway!)

But over the last few weeks I’ve discovered something else new to me on Twitter that I never knew existed – Role Play.

Some people have special Role Play accounts and pretend to actually be the Musketeers and other assorted historical characters.

Now one of my friends sternly raises her eyebrows at this, concerned that I am chatting to the wrong kind of men! She always has been suspicious whereas I am probably too naïve and trusting.  

I promise her I will be careful and not get carried away…too far! It’s a bit of harmless flirting and quite honestly I could use the practice! Most are university students, some are older and a few have admitted being single but you never know for sure what's true and what's not (inside or outside the brackets)!

It is fun, reading Musketeer storylines played out, the writing is usually excellent and has you on the edge of your seat as you wait for the next tweet to appear.  Meanwhile another thread weaves in and out of the timeline made up of those of us reading and making comments.

Sometimes us “real” people even get to join in and it gets confusing, it’s sad, it’s funny, sometimes poignant and often very sexy *blushes* - I am learning lots. 

I’m not sure I can explain it all very well without if sounding, well just a bit strange to the uninitiated. My real life friends shake their heads at my new found hobby but they know only too well it will probably be another passing phase, another step along my grief journey perhaps, another way I try to mend my broken heart or at least fill in the gaps.

Consequently I have become a part of yet another on line community who at this moment in time are encouraging me, supporting me and mostly making me smile. That’s got to be a good thing.

In return hopefully I am being as encouraging and giving out as much as I receive because as people open up you can see underneath we are all the same - aching, hurting, needing - and Twitter is such a great way to communicate succinctly, dispensing positive thoughts like drops of April showers.

And I’ve found it easy to just drop into a conversation that I will pray about something. It’s not a glib comment I truly mean it and if people want to ask me more about my Christianity they can. Yes my faith is a little shaky at the present time but it’s still there under pinning everything, it always will be.

I think carefully about what I tweet and try not to get myself into controversial situations I feel uncomfortable with.

So now my Twitter timeline is made up of Musketeer fans, who make me smile, Christians who regularly challenge me and writers who remind me that once I wanted to write too and even if my words only fill 140 characters I think it’s good to remember that that is still writing!

Musketeer Madness and Finding a Hero

Over the last few weeks I have been captivated by the new BBC One drama the Musketeers. I have been swept up in the adventure and romantic tales. And I’ve fallen in love with the scenery, the storytelling and…. who am I trying to kid I fallen in love with the Musketeers – all of them, it took me a few weeks to figure out my absolute favourite but I’m not telling you here!

my current laptop desktop pic :-)

I also love it because it’s something we can watch together as a family. Often programmes are just a bit too rude or adult for youngest son, or too dull for oldest son to watch.

Oldest son has even lost interest in Dr Who and never even bothered watching Atlantis with us (or Merlin underwater as I renamed it – although the plots never seem to be set by the sea – didn’t Patrick Duffy have flippers and gills when he lived there or does my memory just stretch back a bit too far – I hope someone out there is keeping up with me!) 

We do watch Sherlock all together but I am sure much of that goes over both their heads. I found the wedding episode hilarious; they looked at me bemused. But with only three episodes in a row it’s over almost as soon as it’s begun.

The Musketeers has been on for ten glorious weeks – it’s the last one tomorrow and then what shall we do?

Youngest son does groan when there’s a lovey dovey scene and pulls a blanket over his head as he snuggles in beside me in his PJs ready for bed, his action makes me smile but he sits up again fully engaged in watching the fight scenes. Oldest son meanwhile has commandeered the other sofa and usually the remotes are stuffed behind a cushion nearby. “Turn it up a bit!” I call across the coffee table not wanting to miss a thing.

I just sometimes wish it wasn’t on quite so late on a Sunday evening when it’s school the next day but then again I do delight every Monday morning in discussing every detail with my best friend when we are out for our Monday morning walk.

There are scenes I can recite line by line which make me smile and some which have touched my heart.

“Anyone can tell a woman she is beautiful,” states Aramis, “But making her believe it is where the genius lies.”

Oh so true – I’m not sure I’ve ever truly believed than one – well maybe once but it seems like a dream it was so long ago.

And then there was Porthos falling in love with the beautiful widow Alice Clerbeaux , “A year is a long time without a kiss.” He says tenderly.

I melted, “…and three years is almost intolerable.” I desperately wanted to whisper back. But no one hears me.

Where’s a Musketeer when you really need one?

Despite their obvious character flaws we love them as heroes and I’d be happy for any one of them to sweep me off my feet and rescue me. But considering I am old enough to be d'Artagnan's mother and they are all fictional anyway it seems unlikely - Musketeer Madness!

But last week there was a very different scene that didn’t just make my heart flutter but caused my soul to sing.

Athos and Aramis were holed up in a convent protecting the queen. Things are looking bleak and desperate.

The mother superior asks Athos if there is anything she can do to help protect her convent in the coming battle.

“Can you load a pistol?”

Taking the weapon from him she begins to recite “Blessed be the Lord my God,” all the while expertly continuing with the task in hand, “who teaches my hands to fight and my fingers to battle. Psalm 144.”

Even though Athos’s smile barely touches his lips you can see it in his eyes – he is impressed!

Meanwhile I am smiling broadly on the sofa. We had read that very same psalm that week in a prayer meeting. There is something very special about hearing the word of God. It really is like “honey to my soul”.

I looked it up in the Message this week, a paraphrased version of the Bible with imagery that often challenges and inspires me. These verses were no exception…

Blessed be God my mountain

Who trains me to fight fair and well

He’s the bedrock on which I stand,

The castle in which I live

My rescuing knight

The high crag where I run for dear life

While he lays my enemies low.

Can you guess my favourite line? 

God is my “rescuing knight”! 

This is the language of romance and adventure I love so much.

I may have spent the last ten weeks daydreaming, getting distracted and yes I’m not really sure what to do when there’s no Musketeers to watch on a Sunday night but it’s reassuring to remember that there is a hero who will always be around and his words will draw me in every time.

God is my hero – maybe a little bit like a musketeer but actually a whole lot better! And He will be around long after this Musketeer Madness has ended!

Deliberation, Decision and … potential Disaaaaaster?

November 1st came and went and I categorically declared I wouldn’t even attempt to write a novel in 30 days this year. I very deliberately missed the start of NaNoWriMo* and told everyone I would cheer them on instead and work on my own projects. 

I was being sensible, pragmatic and very grown up about it all.

Last year I plotted, planned and prepared, knowing from the start that the month would be filled with emotional hurdles but I managed to write a staggering 26,000 words regardless before I kind of crumpled in a heap.

(One day I promise I will return to the Book of Esther, my own retelling of the Old Testament story. I had such grand plans and even more grandiose delusions.)

Then as I watched my Facebook and Twitter newsfeeds I became a little sad – all my other writing friends were having so much fun. Maybe I should play along? Perhaps I could finish last year’s novel or was it too late to make up something entirely new…?

So on November 3rd I invented a character or two in my head and hastily made up the flimsiest of plots. By November 4th I started writing in secret and the following day I confessed all to my NaNo buddies – I AM DOING NANO AFTER ALL!!!!!!!

Now I know I must be mad and heading for “disaaaaaster”** 

I have no plot, no plan and I have decided to write with no pressure!

Ha – let’s see how this works.

For someone who usually plans everything and likes to know what is happening this is a new way of working. In life I like to know where I am heading, I like to know exactly what I am going to wear if I am going out, I like to check the map several times before I set off on a journey to anywhere new.

And yet I love the thought of being totally spontaneous, I love to rebel and suddenly change my plans, I am the girl who jumps in with both feet and says “Let’s just dye my hair pink for fun!”

So I currently have 5000 words of complete drivel.  For once I have no expectations that this will be my most marvellous novel – it certainly won’t be but I am having so much fun word sprinting*** with my friends and generally making things up as I go along.

For three days on the trot I wrote the required 1667 words, I even got up one morning and reeled off 500 words before breakfast! An almost unheard of feat for me.

Today I’ve written zero words, except what I have typed here (656 words if you are interested) but I refuse to get stressed about it.

If I beat last year’s word count total – Hooray!

If I come up with a plot that sort of makes sense – I will be astounded!

If I have a lot of fun – my eyes will sparkle**** and that can only be a good thing!

But I’m hoping most of all to learn something even more important from this experience – I’m hoping to learn to let go, to stop planning my life so meticulously, to give up the need to be in control and instead see what unfolds by chance when I am not so concerned by my own master plan!

*NaNoWriMo – “National Novel Writing Month” - 50,000 words in 30 days!

** "disaaaaaster" this word should be emphasised in the style of Craig Revel Horwood from Strictly Come Dancing!

***word sprinting - a timed writing exercise – someone says “go” and we all write for an agreed time limit then come back on Facebook or Twitter and compare word counts!

****my best friend says my eyes sparkle when I am writing something and being creative. When I announce I have a new 5 year plan for my life she despairs and shakes her head!

if a picture paints a thousand words...

I walked around the garden in the snow and took these photos this morning.

I was going to write about how much I am missing Andrew at the moment. The snow has triggered all those feelings of helplessness again.

I wanted to tell you that yesterday I cried but I can't find the right words and I don't want to plunge once more under the icy depths of grief.

But I need to share, I need you to know that some feelings never go away.

However I suspect you already know that grief NEVER really ends. It lasts a lifetime and not just a season.

There will always be days as cold as ice.

But the sunlight make things sparkle....

...and there is always hope for a brighter future if you look hard enough!