being thankful

I am in a great mood at the moment and I'm sure the sunshine has a lot to do with it. I just need to look out of the open window to see beautiful blue sky and I can feel a gentle breeze blowing across my skin.

My facebook page is full of happy updates and pictures, my new kitchen, fantastic tennis on TV (I even went to Wimbledon with oldest son in the first week), I've eaten strawberries picked from my garden and the kids had fun splashing about on the beach on Saturday evening.  

However first thing this morning things didn't look so bright in this part of the world. The North East coast was covered by a light sea mist and the temperature had dramatically dropped.

"Oh bother!" 

I go walking with friends on a Monday morning and we had been looking forward to a walk in the sunshine. Today low tide fell at exactly the right time for us to walk around the cliffs on the beach and rocks without getting cut off or swept away. Last week we'd walked along the top and we were keen to see a very different view out to sea.

With the change in weather should we change our plans? There was very little debate - we decided we should go for it anyway - there are too few weeks left before the kids break up for the school holidays.

Instead we changed our clothes to whatever we each felt appropriate for a cooler walk and we set off.

Once we'd started walking we all agreed perhaps this was better weather for walking in, no risk of getting sunburnt or just being TOO HOT.

We laughed and chatted as usual not bothered that we couldn't see much of a view. Besides we had to watch our feet, the seaweed was very slippery and we squealed when the rocks beneath our feet wobbled!

But looking down meant we spotted a few fossils along the way.

We avoided stepping in rock pools and clambered over rocks...

...and spotted these two that looked like they were kissing!

There are things I would like to change in my life but what's the point of listing them here when there is so much good stuff going on at the moment.

I really do have lots to be thankful for!

More Adventures in Pioneer Land

I love my Monday mornings, once I’ve got the boys off to school I can go and join my friends for a walk.

This morning we had planned a beach walk but at the last minute we opted for a walk in the woods to see the rhododendrons. We are fortunate to have so many wonderful places nearby to choose from.

The path climbed steadily and we eagerly shouted “rhododendron” every time we spotted one like little kids. We laughed and chatted, our cares and worries blown away.

To our right the woods climbed up higher but through the trees to our left we could see a magnificent meadow dotted with bright waving buttercups.

“I want to go down there.” Said one friend. “There is a path look.”

“We could run down the hill just like the beginning of Little House on the Prairie!” I squealed with excitement, I really shouldn’t be let out sometimes!

So we looked for a way to get into the field, we climbed over a stile, through a little bit of mud and eventually ended up going round in a circle back to the top path where we had started from.

“We could go down here?” Suggested one friend as she scrambled through a gap in the trees. “We can get over the fence at the bottom.” She shouted back to us.

So we followed, enjoying our adventure.

It was another NEW walk, we love finding a different route, even if we did have to clamber over a padlocked gate I promise we stuck to signposted footpaths most of the time!

When I returned home my workman shouted “I wouldn’t come in here if I were you,” – the dishwasher and sink had finally been removed.

But it gets worse- the floorboards underneath are rotten so instead of installing a new dishwasher as soon as possible for my convenience he has been digging out the wobbly joists. Sawing through floorboard, narrowly missing the gas pipe - thank goodness! No wonder my floor used to bounce when I danced around the kitchen.

Oh dear...

...do you think we'll find buried treasure or a dead body under there?

...the mice have been nibbling the insulation round the central heating pipes!

...at least it's all tidy at the end of the day!

All I can do is laugh because it’s so much better than crying. To be honest we both expected to uncover a few more issues before this job is over. Nothing is ever simple or straight forward when your house is over a 150 years old.

We've survived the days of no Aga and no hot water, now we have to live without a kitchen sink - I guess I'll be doing the washing up in the bath then. 

Even the simple task of making a cuppa becomes an adventure as I have to fill the kettle from the outside tap then walk round the edges of the kitchen to reach the Aga and put it on to boil.

I can't wait to cook tea tonight - it's going to be so much fun - a bit like camping but without sleeping under canvas!

This morning I was running down a hill just like Laura Ingalls, once more I’m living the life of a pioneer but nothing can be as bad as those early days when I wrote this post on Unravelling Edges… (click on the title below to read)

At least the sun is shining bright and golden like the buttercups in the meadow and these days too will pass...

Pioneering Spirit: My last few posts have been more reflective.   Looking back and remembering.   Perhaps I’m learning at last how to “be” and not measure m...

Mixed up thoughts and tumbled treasure

I’ve had enough of winter; I’ve certainly had enough of snow and wild wet days.

I long for sunshine, for daffodils and bluebells in the garden, splashes of colour to brighten my world.

Now I know it’s still early in the year but only a few weeks ago there was a tantalising promise that spring was on its way, buds were forming, hardy varieties of flowers unfurled in anticipation.

Then it snowed again. Oh not much and all gone by tea time but enough in the mornings to get me flustered and panicky. 

I feel ready to move on and make changes and snow in particular makes me feel trapped and slows down my plans!

My blue painted fingernails tap out an impatient rhythm even now in between my typing. Despite coming up with a three year plan of staying put I want to know what happens next in my story.

A chance meeting and conversation with our vicar only churned up my thoughts further as we discussed what God’s plans for me might look like. I foolishly worry there is no overlap at all and that God is going to send me where I don’t want to go!

As I drove home past the sea it was rough and wild, a high tide churning, swirling, agitating, a metaphor for the way I was feeling.

By Friday morning the storms had died down and I decided to take a walk on the beach to clear my thoughts.

Crunching on the pebbles and splashing on the wet smooth sand I walked, I cried, I pondered, hoping all the while to find a definitive answer written in the sand or maybe a cloud shaped like a giant arrow pointing the direction I should take.

Actually all I found was this 

I loaded my pockets with seaglass and broken pottery. Once these things were whole and useful, now they are shattered and seemingly worthless.

But the sea has taken them and tumbled them, smoothing the raw edges to create something beautiful.

I’ve no idea what I will really “do” with it all, especially as I already have a huge collection, but to me it is still treasure.

I like to think that God picks up the broken pieces he sees and collects them in his pocket. 

The people who are broken, smashed, feeling just a little out of sorts because let’s face it that’s where I am at the moment. I’m not depressed, I’m no longer in the deepest part of my grief, I’m just a little blue, wondering and pondering what my next steps might be and sometimes getting a little bit anxious.

Often my thoughts run ahead of themselves and maybe I need to snow to slow me down, I need the rainy days to make my stop and think.

But here are some positive things I have done to move forward this week.

• I have seen my kitchen plans and they are good
• I have bought two new tyres for my car
• I've changed the desktop picture on my laptop to my treasure picture above, instead of our last family photo
• I have changed my relationship status on Facebook from Widowed to BLANK

Next week the forecast remains unsettled with more chance of snow but spring will come soon – won’t it?

Monday morning walks and bubbling ideas...

There are so many writing competitions and prompts around at the moment it's becoming impossible to do everything.

But then something comes along that sets off a spark, ideas flow, the fire is fanned and hey presto you've written something!

Monday morning is my usual day for a walk with friends and the conversations today stirred a million new ideas but it was when I got home and found this new competition that everything clicked into place...

Wanted: Outlaw Poets 

What: Prose poems of 150 – 250 words

When: October 8th – October 21st 

Theme: Horror/Suspense or Uncanny Nature

Now I don't usually write Horror stories but a story of an uncanny nature? Maybe I could get my brain in gear for such a tale. Plus the clue is in the title POEM WALK.

I could write a poem about our walk this morning, embelished everso slightly just to fit the theme!

This is probably my first attempt at a prose poem, don't remember ever writing one before, at least not deliberately. I think I have kind of followed the rules and if not I don't care, writing it was so much fun, which at the end of the day is the point isn't it?

Many thanks to @bullishink and @dustyjournal for setting this latest writing challenge.

Now do you dare come walking with me?  Would you like to join...

The Monday Morning Walking Club

 

Misty Monday morning walk. Muted footsteps, laughing lips. Seven days’ worth of gossip to catch up on.

Benny darting this way, that way. All of us set free for fun. Exercising, forward striding with aims to stretch our midlife muscles.  A cup of tea and scone await, our well deserved reward!

A muddy path beside the river meanders to an open field. What’s that growing? We draw closer. The spiders have been out to play, we marvel at their woven flowers, catching snippets of the weak October sun.

They’re everywhere we quickly realise, webs surrounding every bloom. Lacy petals speckled with diamond dewdrops.

Where’s the traffic noise? Says Rachel, the road is only over there.

We listen to the deathly silence.

Where’s the dog? No longer under our feet banging our shins with the stick he carries.

The fog seems to be closing tighter. A faint clicking sound grows ever louder, spiders knitting, clacking needles.

Our chattering has stopped, sentences entangled in the ether. Will we ever find out the end of the story?

I look around, my friends all vanished. Left alone my fear spirals. A blanket of sticky web slowly envelops me. Muscles tighten, pulled and stretched beyond their natural limits.

Swallowed by mist, our walk today is done. It’s time for the mid-morning snack!

(217words - not including title)

I wish I had taken a photo of the spider's webs, we really were surrounded and I can't find a picture on google to compare with our eerie discovery.

Names haven't been changed in this story to protect the innocent but concidering our other conversations you got away very lightly Rachel and it is a direct quote.

And Benny the dog, you are named and shamed for giving my that sloppy wet kiss this morning - YUCK! 

A good old Sunday tradition

Yesterday I wrote about how the weekends always seem to me to be a sacred family time not to be disturbed by outsiders. Maybe that comes from Sunday afternoons when I was a child. We would either visit relatives or go for a Sunday afternoon walk.

My dad worked hard as a butcher through the week, always up early and exhausted when he got home, so his day off was a special time for all four of us together. Sometimes my grandma would come with us too even though she was already in her 70s (she really was a marvellous woman).  The walks stopped as my brother and I got older and followed other pursuits.

When Andrew and I were “courting” and first married, the Sunday afternoon walk was also a regular occurrence following our Sunday lunch. We would take Andrew’s mum’s dog Spot with us.

The dog died, the boys came along, things change as they always do.

Yesterday I suggested going for a walk along the beach to youngest son.

He didn’t want to go but my friend said she would go for a walk with me.

Eventually we came up with a plan to go to her house after church for bacon butties and drag the kids out kicking and screaming regardless. Of course when they are with their friends the idea of walking is far more appealing and there were no tears or tantrums whatsoever.

After a lovely lunch of crispy bacon and melted brie on fresh bread (delicious!) we set off down the beach.

We had a wonderful stroll and after stopping for hot chocolate and brownies and ice creams etc. we walked back past the park and through the woods.

The park is one of those big chunky adventure type places where all the equipment is made of solid wood. Not like the swings and slides of our day, anyone remember those tall slides with the cage on top? Or the Jungle Gym, as we used to call them, that looked like a big square hunk of scaffolding?

The very last Sunday afternoon Andrew was alive we were all bored at home and he decided we should go for a walk. The boys weren’t too impressed with the plan but I desperately wanted to spend the time together as a family and not all disappear to different corners of the house.

We walked to the same park which was still relatively new and it was the first time we’d been to explore. I remember Andrew and I bouncing on the seesaw and me squealing with laughter (how old am I?). He helped youngest son ride on the zip wire and probably challenged oldest son to climb on the highest piece of equipment.

It was a good afternoon, one I will always remember for its laughter and fun, and one I recalled with fondness today as I could see Andrew smiling.

The Sunday afternoon “family” walk really is a good old tradition and I’m so glad we have extended church family to share it with.

And thanks for the bacon butties too – same time next week???

This Week’s Quest

I am feeling really sleepy today. I think it must be the after effects of all the exercise I did yesterday.

Not only did I partake of my usual walk with friends in the morning (we saw 3 deer, 2 peacocks, 1 peahen and 2 pheasants – a new wildlife record) but I went to a ballroom exercise class in the evening.

By then my brain wasn’t working properly and I couldn’t pick up the steps but there was lots of giggling and jiggling as we tried to jive.

Because I have now ditched number 5 on my New Year’s Resolutions list (on-line dating) I am moving swiftly onto number 6 (get more exercise).

As it says in Winnie the Pooh’s little book of Wisdom, “A bear however hard he tries, grows tubby without exercise.”

I have put on over half a stone since Andrew died, can’t put it all down to too many chocolates over Christmas. A good friend always warned me about weight gain after 40 and I want it to stop right now.

(Although maybe I could blame my thyroid – make a note, get it checked again.)

I had to laugh yesterday when this appeared on my friend’s facebook page.

Its put’s everything into perspective.

Finding a new man is on the backburner for now. On-line dating is certainly not for me, for now.  Although what are the chances that Mr Wonderful will drop into my email inbox the day before my shortened subscription ends meaning I will desperately have to renew it?

For my own health and wellbeing I am on a quest to sculpt myself into the "perfect" woman, preferably without cutting too many yummy calories. Every Monday morning walk ends with a scone - it's practically the law.

That’s this week’s plan at any rate – let’s see how long this bright idea lasts. ;-)