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!

Me and Bridget Jones

15th January 2014

v. late night finishing off Bridget Jones’ latest diary. I laughed loud and cried buckets, even had to put on reading glasses for last few pages to make blurry words big and bold enough to read properly - v.g. book!

I remember reading the first two books and watching the films but I’ve always had mixed views about Miss Jones. I’m not sure if we’d ever have been friends back then although I love her easy to read chatty style her shenanigans often made me despair.

Things we have in common

• We both write a diary.

• We’ve both experienced the heartache of being single, wondering when the “one” is ever going to turn up in our lives.

• We both have a tendency to be over dramatic.

• We both do stupid things - my latest is washing my jeans with my mobile phone still in the pocket! I still might blog about that another day.

• We both have a great network of friends who we rely on.

Differences

• I don’t have quite the same preoccupation with my weight – well I don’t weigh myself and record it every day! And despite her protestations to the contrary Bridget is NOT really fat, I’ve always been several pounds heavier.

• I don’t smoke at all and never have.

• I don’t drink even a fraction of the amount Ms Jones consumes.

• I have a definite Christian faith whereas Bridget’s belief system appears to be loosely based on whatever self-help books are currently fashionable.

When the first two books came out I was already what Bridget would describe as a “smug married”.  In fact the books arrived on the bookshelves in the same years as I gave birth my two handsome sons. 

No I don’t think we would have even mixed in the same social circles back in the nineties.

But moving the story on to the present day and we have one more essential thing in common.

We are both widowed - suddenly, unexpectedly, devastatingly and that has thrown us both into a whole new world of being a single parent, alone, often floundering but trying to do the best we can.

I desperately wanted to read the book to see how Bridget was coping with her loss but I confess part of me was worried that this part of her life was glossed over in favour of a racier storyline. Being a widow isn’t sexy until that is you add a toy boy into the mix.

OK I confess another part of me wanted to know how Bridget had managed to entice a younger man into her life, I hoped to gain some tips, I’m hopelessly out of touch with the whole idea of dating. Although I doubted it would be the best self-help book I could read on the subject.

I had visions of throwing the book across the floor in disgust that Mark Darcy’s memory wasn’t honoured. I didn’t want Bridget to move on too quickly, I wanted to know she felt guilt and regret and the whole range of emotions that bubble up out of nowhere where grief is concerned.

I needn’t have worried, yes Bridget still annoyed me at times with some of her irresponsible behaviour but there were moments when I cried with her and my heart ached. The most memorable time when her mum came alongside her and told her how marvellous she was doing in the circumstances. I’ve had the very same conversation with my own mum. Some people look at you in awe but you never see it yourself.

You see as a widow you feel vulnerable, you are broken and floundering. This is not the way your life was meant to happen. On top of losing your soulmate you have to contend with being a single parent, it was not something you chose, you had no part in the decision process. One moment you were whole and the next shattered and putting those pieces back together in any kind of order is incredible hard.

For Bridget it was five years since her beloved Mark Darcy died, I’ve only been a widow for three, so I do look up to her, slightly ahead of me, knowing she’s made mistakes, she’s laughed and cried and sometimes she barely scrapes though moment by moment, one chocolate button at a time! 

It was good to remember that. All too often I judge my own journey too harshly thinking I should have already moved on to a different place. I should have more of the jigsaw puzzle completed by now. Meeting up with Bridget again has assured me I am doing OK too.

Finding the toy boy might take a bit of work but I think Bridget might just give me a wink and a smile at that one, tip a big heap of chocolate buttons into my hand and then we’d giggle…

…you just have to read her diary too and maybe you will understand! I really don't want to give away too many spoilers...

Race the Date #4 - archipelago

Today I am joining up with Cara Michaels' relatively new writing challenge called Race the Date

26 Hours | 300 Words | 1 Globetrotting Prompt

Today's prompt word is - archipelago

After so many days of blissfully floating in relative peace and quiet Daisy heard the familiar humming of an engine above her head. Lazily she lifted an arm to shield her slowly opening eyes from the glaring sun. They confirmed what she already knew – her idyllic honeymoon was coming to an end.

With a slight sadness in her heart she watched as the plane glided in an effortless trajectory on its way to the last island in the archipelago. By the time their yacht reached the shore the plane would be ready and waiting to trace the line of islands all the way back to the mainland.

Closing her eyes again she tuned back into the soothing sound of the ocean, once more mulling over how to begin this month’s article. This kind of once in a lifetime two week cruise along the islands on a private yacht would have ordinarily been well out of her budget. 

Writing a couple of thousand words for the privilege was a small price to pay for such luxury. 

Stretching her arms out wide, an imitation of the plane above, Daisy reached playfully for her faithful companion with a light touch. 

Her fingers slowly curled around the purple leather bound Kindle full of the complete works of Jane Austen. There was just time to lose herself at Pemberley before the magic had to end.

Next time, she vowed, she really must find her own Mr Darcy to share one of these experiences with!

The single most important issue is…

My head is full of thoughts and to use my unravelling/reravelling analogies the thread are completely tangled.

As I frantically try to unknot them I keep coming back to one single issue…

…the issue of singleness!

It’s becoming quite unavoidable and if I don’t write down all my thoughts my head will most likely explode!

I’ve been a smug married, so sure of myself and my place in the world. I’ve been loved, accepted, wanted, desired even – who would have thought that gauche, awkward teenager with no boyfriend would one day blossom into the beautiful swan, get married and have her own happy ending?

Only that ended abruptly when Andrew died unexpectedly leaving me with new titles to contend with – widow and single mum – to be truthful I don’t like either!

But widowed also means single again, I have tumbled down that slippery serpent on the snakes and ladders board back to square one with a bump.

At about the same time Andrew died, my brother’s marriage fell apart. He is now divorced and single. He doesn’t like the single title either so he is actively seeking someone new in his life through online dating.

“You should try it.” He says as he shows off his profile.

“I have tried it.” I remind him. “I didn’t like it.”

(you can read Holding out for a Hero and Sounded like a good idea - but can I have my money back? by clicking on the links!)

I also remind him I have a very specific wish list, top of which is I want to find a man who is a Christian.

He raises an eyebrow and tells me there are decent men out there who do not believe in Jesus or share my faith.

“But if God wants me to marry again, He will find me someone!” I say with conviction offering up another desperate prayer that my knight in shining armour will ride into town soon.

My brother’s eyebrows are both raised now, he’s an atheist, thinks I am a bit mad in this department and I’m sure he is convinced my God has let me down! 

Sometimes I think my brother has a point – where is God when I need him?

This is when God smiles down at me and posts a few encouraging words on Facebook via my global network of friends – believe me he is working on this one, night and day, he is always on my side and he has a special place in his heart for widows!

So where is my handsome prince? Or perhaps more importantly does he even exist?

There are a few more threads I need to unpick to attack these questions.

Truthfully I am not sure I am ready for a new relationship, there I’ve actually said it/ written it - same thing!

(Take a deep breath – those words are out there now as hard as they are to admit!)

However much I desire a new man in my life the gauche, awkward teenage Sarah is back and she has a few lessons to re-learn.

Number one is how to be “happy single”.

This notion of being “happy single” is nothing new. I even achieved it once – guess when that was? 

Right before Andrew asked me out! Literally that week the thought had gone through my head that if a man came along I wasn’t interested – ha!

I was content and happy, didn’t have a clue where my life was going when suddenly this man I’d known for a while, who was on the edge of my existence was catapulted into the centre of my world – here he was - THE ONE - ta dah!

Ok so I didn’t know he was THE ONE right at the very start but it didn’t take long to join the dots and see where this was heading!

But before that it took me many years to realise this “happy single” state, to be friends with the girl in the mirror who stared back at me every morning, to know that she was valuable, worthy and lovable despite her boyfriendless state.

This time around I have discovered the most wonderful book to help me to keep me grounded.

It is called The Single Woman and it is written by a gorgeous young woman called Mandy Hale, who is still single in her thirties because she is just too fabulous to settle for anything but the best!

Mandy's book not only contains the wisest of words but it is one of the most beautiful books ever - inside and out!

I could sit here and quote her all day, but just go and follow her on Twitter or Facebook and her wise words will pop up all over your newsfeed. If you need encouragement she is the girl to go to.

For a daydreamer like me, head in the clouds, always searching for a happy ending she has this most wonderful piece of advice…

“The real fairy tale is designing a life so amazing that you don’t want to be rescued from it.”

Now this worries me slightly because it means I have got to relinquish my control and declare that I want to be happy on my own in the knowledge that this is the way things may end up.

Prince charming may NEVER arrive. Andrew may remain the one and only love of my life.

But if I don’t learn to let go, I will never move forward.

It is no longer Andrew I need to let go of, I know he’s never coming back, that part of my life is over but I need to step into a world of being fabulously single, of making singleness my choice rather than my default setting because of circumstances beyond my control.

If I don’t do this I will continually be tripped up at every turn, tangled up in a half-life, miserably waiting for Mr Right to come along and somehow make me complete.

I don't want to live my life like that - it's so unattractive!

Therefore singleness in no longer on the agenda for debate or discussion – it is no longer the single most important issue!

And for those wobbly times when my resolve fails and I forget I’m going to keep my copy of The Single Woman close at hand and God even closer!