What's it all about?

Attending my nephew's wedding yesterday prompted my sister to recall the story of her wedding rings, and why she wears two of them. This, in turn, prompted me to recall my own attitude to wedding rings, and why I don't wear one at all.
When I was little, I wanted to get married and have children. Maybe like so many other girls, I grew up with a highly romaticised idea of marriage, and the wedding was no exception. Church, bridesmaids, wedding dress and rings were all part of the package, although it has to be said that my first wedding was anything but traditional in appearance. I changed my surname to that of my new husband, wore his ring and kept it there for 8 years in hope of the romance that never came. Shackled to a man I no longer loved, I removed the symbol of this marriage as soon as it was over.
For my second wedding, I was a bit older, but not much wiser, and still thought that marriage could be the perfect union of souls. The wedding arrangements were more pragmatic, driven as we were by  lack of money, but the name change and the ring were still in there, as if their magic influence could create love out of lust, and common ground where none existed. About the same time I started to wise up on gender equality, taking a big interest in the women's rights movement and some strong feminists became friends of mine. Maybe I became too strident, maybe my new found role as a mother gave me a strength and definition of purpose - who knows? But here I was again, shackled by a name and a ring to a man who showered me with indifference. One day, when I knew it was over, I shed the name and the ring, and walked.
My half-baked feminist notions now became 'the truth' as I wove a cloth to protect myself against the traditions of marriage. I believe that a white wedding dress is a symbol of purity, and that the bride is a virgin. I believe that being 'given away' by your father is a tradition dating back to tribal customs when you were literally 'given' to another tribe, maybe in exchange for 1/2 dozen cows. And I believe that changing your name to your husband's, and wearing a ring are proof of ownership - you are a mere possession of your husband and his family.
Some of these notions may be true. Certainly, whatever their origin, the modern wedding ceremony is merely a set of rituals, that many people go through without a second thought as to their meaning.
So it was with the greatest joy that when I married for the 3rd (and last) time, it really was a union of hearts, minds and souls. Neil was not then, nor now, interested in the form and ritual of marriage. Indeed, for many months, we thought that we had all we needed, without marriage. It was enough for us to love each other. When we decided to get married, it was enough in itself to make our relationship formal. He had no desire for me to change my name, nor wear a ring. Free to be me, I am shackled to my husband by love.

Only a fool

Julia sent me a little mantra to try out - to keep me off the bread! 'Only a fool breaks the 2-slice rule'. It's good. It's very good. But the way I feel today should teach me something.
(Do I ever learn?) I think I like to eat bread-related products. I love sandwiches, rolls, toast - ah, how I love toast! But I feel like a loaf afterwards, all stodgy and lethargic. But today I went back to healthy eating a la Weight Watchers, and have had no bread. And I feel fantastic. I am so full of energy that I can only imagine that all these carbs are bad for me in some fundamental way. I think I read somewhere that foods we 'crave' are somehow the very ones that are not good for us. Sounds bunkum. Probably is. But if I can feel this good every day, why would I want to sacrifice it for a few slices of toast?
The only problem now is what to spread my marmite on. Suggestions anyone?

Starting from scratch

Julia has been nagging me for some time to re-start my blog, but somehow the time never seemed right. But her blog on making a curry has sparked me off.

Cooking skills have never been top priority in our household. I can turn out an acceptable meal, but I don't enjoy the process, and even my best efforts are ones that I can chuck in the slow cooker and forget about it. Neil loves to cook, but hasn't got a clue what he is doing, and the results are very variable. I shut up and say nowt, because he is more than willing to prepare a dinner for me every night, but the starting point for these meals is often a pre-packaged meal from the supermarket.

Last week he came home in triumph, brandishing a 'bargain' he had purchased in Tesco - half price at only £1 - a ready meal for one consisting of penne pasta in a tomato & basil sauce. Something finally clicked into gear in my brain and I was appalled! 'But darling, you could make this yourself and feed 6 people for £1, AND it would be tastier'. So we decided to have a go at real cooking. Co-incidentally, a few days later I watched a TV programme in which pre-packaged diet food was given short shrift for its poor nutritional value and suspect ingredients.

Now Julia will delight in telling people (and it is a funny story) about my first foray into cooking when I had to phone her up several times to get step-by-step instructions on making a chicken casserole. However, this happened over 40 years ago, and several marriages later, I have accumulated some knowledge about basic cooking techniques, although not much more joy in the process. But I am a Virgo, and 2 things I love are following instructions and showing others the right way (my way) of doing something. So you can imagine the fun I had, in the kitchen with my lovely husband, as we worked our way through the recipe for a vegetarian pasta bake (actually a lasagne of sorts). Neil was beside himself with excitement, almost unable to wait till it was cooked to see how it had turned out. I do believe this was his first cooking attempt starting from scratch with fresh ingredients and a recipe book.

It turned out lovely, probably cost about £2.50, was enough for 6 people and we had great fun doing it. Neil unfortunately thinks he has cracked it and wants to move straight to the Maddhur Jaffrey style of cooking, but I will take him through a few more basics before we move on to ingredients like Norwegian Beaver Cheese and Mexican Yaks Milk.

All in the name of progress

I have enjoyed another lively exchange with my sister about the merits of 'real' tea. She maintains that the only proper way to make tea is with loose leaves in a pot, with boiling water poured on, left for 3 minutes and poured onto the milk in the waiting bone china cups. This is the way our parents made tea, and anyone who uses tea bags is missing out on a good cuppa. She makes a similar point about the use of 'real' coffee. I don't agree, and personally happen to think that a well made cup of Tetleys or Nescafe is hotter and tastier than one made by these other, archaic methods. I think she is failing to acknowledge a vital point which affects a great deal of the food and drink we consume, which is - that it's all about processing.

A trip round any supermarket will reveal a vast quantity of processed food. Now, unless you live a very purist lifestyle, with a back-to-the-earth approach, nearly everything we eat is processed to a degree, and the level and sophistication of that processing is increasing all the time. Some of the foods we eat would not exist at all if it weren't for some ingenious processing, foods such as Quorn and Tofu which turn uneatable vegetable matter into something we can use every day. Some foods are presented to us in convenient forms that our mothers would have been astonished by - ready made custard is a prime example. Where is the merit in standing over a hot stove, mixing custard powder (already a processed ingredient) with milk (another processed ingredient) to cook to a smooth consistency (if I am lucky) when I can snip open a box, pour the contents into a bowl, and zap it in the microwave. Each of us will decide a level of processing that we find acceptable. Personally, I try to find a healthy-ish compromise somewhere between convenience and additives. So whilst I accept that a freshly made loaf of bread is the ideal, I tend to buy it ready made, as this is convenient, and I no longer expect my family to eat my attempts at a home-made pizza, when a ready prepared one is infinitely better.

Of course, two of the staples of our diet which have been processed far beyond their natural state are ..... tea and coffee!

Demon Days are numbered

2008 was the year I finally looked the financial demon square in the face. He is very friendly, with a smiley face and outstretched hands holding credit cards. However, looking for longer, I saw the pound-signs in his eyes, and his fully-paid-up membership card of the 'Interest for Credit-Card Companies' club clearly visible in his top pocket. I shouted at him - 'Be Gone', I said. 'Not that simple, darling', he responded. 'Without me, you are going to have to make some tough decisions, and live like a poor person for a while'

I pondered, could this really be reality? Me, at 58 years old, with mounting debt and an unquenchable thirst for spending money I don't have? It was, and I did a deal with the Demon. Leave me alone for 2009 and I'll show you who's boss. He cackled merrily as I spent money at Christmas. 'You'll never make it!!' he cried, rubbing his fat hands in glee. 'Oh yes, I will, this spending is just to make you feel good until I starve you to death' I replied. 'Now, clear off - I don't want to see you again 'til you are half the demon you are now'

So he cackled off into the distance, but I can still see him, and know he is waiting to pounce. I, Beatrice Dixon, BA, will have no truck with him in 2009, and will make those tough decisions, and live like a poor person. If successful, he will be so reduced that in 2010, he might disappear for ever.

Think of that and purr...........

The Bea Movie

Sarah throws a mean party! She had a great one last night, with loads of people in fancy dress and enough food to sink an oil tanker. I was anxious about going for two reasons - 1) that I was not going to drink alcohol, and who enjoys a party without getting a little merry? and 2) Brad & Peeli were going to be there.
Now Brad and Peeli are lovely people, don't get me wrong, but at the last party we were at together - Jacob's Birthday party in May - I had embarrassed myself enormously by snogging Brad. Not that the snogging was embarrassing, but the pictures circulating afterwards were. I excuse my actions by saying that I was very drunk, but truth is I enjoyed flirting with someone half my age, who seemed to enjoy it too. But what must Peeli think of me? How was I going to face her again, sober and behaving properly?
I needn't have worried, she was fine and friendly and we all joked about the Bea Movie 2, and I stayed sober and only kissed Brad on the cheek. We - that is the little gang of Joe, Jake, Brad Aidz, Peeli, Phil, Wesley and me - had a hugely enjoyable time discussing such serious topics as writing a cheque for the hijacked oil, Somalian pirates, and whether Nirvana are the best band ever. I had about 2 tablespoons of alcohol, liberally diluted with lemonade.
So it is possible, even preferable to be sober at a party where everyone else is not, and I met some lovely new people, especially the well-talked-about-but-never-met Mehmet, a colleague of Sarah's. He and his wife Penny get 15 gold stars for chatting to Neil, who seemed to be a bit shy, and bringing him out of his shell.
We all had a good time, and The Bea Movie 2 will have to wait.

Well, I didn't know that!

I love playing cards. Not the intense, clever stuff that my brother Chris does, doing Sooooooo well at the Beijing Olympiad, just cards, rubbish stuff like Nap and patience. I learned to play patience at my mother's elbow, watching her, learning, getting hooked. Oh how she would have LOVED the computer version, with all the shuffling and dealing done in a moment. I love to play Spider, and the score is recorded by the number of moves to win, the fewer the better. I was deeply upset to discover that if I undid a move, it counts towards my total, and didn't subtract. GRRRRRRRRRR!
This reminded me of a recent incident which revealed how we sometimes have strange ideas about how things work. (not prepared to reveal how recent, to save embarrassment). There I was in bed, enjoying my first cup of tea with Neil and listening to the radio. A news item revealed that a young woman had been apprehended by police for driving for miles IN REVERSE! When asked why she was doing this, she explained that she had borrowed her mum's car and done more miles than she cared to explain, so she was just 'unwinding' some. I thought this was very enterprising of her, and I looked at Neil blankly, unable to fathom out why he found the story so amusing. My punishment was a 15 minute lesson (with drawings) of how a mileometer works!
I must admit, when it comes to how things work, there are MANY things about which I have only a hazy grasp of reality. Like how electricity works, and how come when I light the gas cooker, it doesn't ignite all the gas in the pipes, and really understanding how I can talk on my mobile phone, without any wires. And how TONS of ship can float, when I find it so hard.
I guess there are things in life which I just have to accept as fact, without understanding the fundamentals, as one person can't know everything. And my advice is to make damn sure that you partner up with someone who understands the things you don't, and can explain them to you, with drawings, at 7am over the morning tea

The Tempest

Here I sit, at my computer, desperately trying to get my brain to work. I know it's early, but this is my best time of day, and I should be able to write an essay with no problem. I've read The Tempest twice, I've watched the film, I have read all related texts, and I know what I want to say. It's the question that I find so hard.....'compare and contrast'...the OU says. That's hard to do when your brain is in tip-top condition, but I fear mine has had a tempest all of its own, and has not quite recovered.

What actually happens in my brain when I have a seizure? If it is, as I sometimes explain to people, like blowing a fuse, do I get all that burnt stuff that happens round the wires in a plug when it gets too hot and blows? Have I got melted bits? Why do I continue to have fit after fit......4 this time in 20 hours.....why isn't one enough to calm things down in there? I am seeing the neurologist tomorrow, but I fear that he will not be able to answer these questions, as so little is known about the causes and effects of epilepsy.

What I do know is that I am having real difficulty in marshalling my thoughts into coherent patterns. It is like having to drag a reluctant child to school, we both know where we are going, but one of us seems more keen than the other. The easiest decision in these circumstances is to give in, let little Johnny stay home for the day. But would my brain be better off if I said 'OK, no more OU, no more essays, no more Shakespeare? I can't believe it would.

There is so much at stake. The fulfilment of a dream, the justification for spending so much time, effort and money over the years, the sense of self-worth, the pride, the enjoyment, simply the education. To give in is to give up, and I fear a future with nothing to drive me on.

So, let's get this child to school. A bit of persuasion is all that's needed. Let's show the goal to the brain and convince it that it REALLY wants to do this. Now, where was I.........Act 2 scene 1, I think........

Things aint what they used to be

Back to reading Blogs. Isn't it fun?! Especially my sister's, which are so full of shared memories. I haven't written anything since December 26th, after a particularly joyful Christmas, but as I gradually remove the clutter from my life, I now find I have some more time to write.
The year has gone well:- I decided that I had been too fat for too long and there was only one sensible thing to do, so I joined Weight Watchers. The plan was to lose 113 lbs in 138 weeks, which meant that I would be at target by my 60th birthday. Then Jake & Phil threw a spanner in my works by announcing their engagement, and proposed marriage date of 30th August 2009, A WHOLE YEAR EARLIER! This gives me just 61 weeks to lose weight to look gorgeous in his wedding photos. I am still sticking to my planned target of 1 lb per week which means over 4 stone shed by the wedding.......and I am currently 6lbs ahead of target, so WAY-HAY!

Evie has been growing into a human being, and we now have a great relationship. I love to watch her learning how to walk and talk, how to understand her environment, what's good and what's not. I have a large (2 ft high) teak elephant which fascinates her........she is simultaneously awed by and attracted to it, and watches it out of the corner of her eye in case it decides to move. So funny!! I look forward to the book reading times to come.

Neil and I have been enjoying each other's company, and have had a fabulous time. We have been to some great gigs (The Fall, Fish) and were lucky to have seen probably the last ISIHAC before Humphrey Littleton died in April. We are enjoying our garden, and with the recent fine weather, have been sitting out there a lot. We can't remember what we used to argue about so much, life is so peachy now. We have bought a brand new TV and are about to have our kitchen re-fitted.

Don't want to ramble for ever, more another day

Dry Your Eyes.....

We have arrived at the end of a year which has been, for many of us, a year of pain and loss, a year of turmoil and grief, a year of recognition and acceptance. It is hard to look life in the eye and say, 'Go on then, I DARE you' and even harder to deal with the challenges that are thrown back at you if do. There is a catchphrase 'be careful what you wish for' and dealing with the challenges does not always bring the outcome you expected.

This year, I have dealt with some of those challenges. The 'L'Oreal' incident in October severley rocked my boat and it took some time before I was able to get the ship steady again (pun absolutely intended). However, this Christmas was just about THE best that I can remember. Neil and I were happy with each other and he was funny and sociable with company, only having one or two cringeworthy moments. He seems to have come to a place where he can have a sensible attitude to alcohol, where it no longers dicates and overpowers him. Our new-found sobriety has allowed us the courage to examine the core of our relationship and found it to be solid as a rock. However, some of the outer layers were beginning to look a bit frayed and these have been renewed or replaced.

We have discovered the shadowy underworld of Low/No..... alcoholic drinks with the alcohol removed or severly restricted and that has been a lot of fun, although we are apalled at the lack of choice in both supermarkets and pubs. Our local brewery, Harveys, does a couple of cracking low alcohol ales which, so far, we have only been able to get direct from the brewery shop. We also get weird and vaguely pitying looks when we ask the store/pub staff if they sell low/no. I feel a letter to the paper coming on......

Having spent a ghastly amount of 2006 crying from rage and grief, from despair and loneliness and, worst of all, from self-pity (what a loathsome creature that is), it was wonderful to spend a lot of Christmas Day crying from laughter, and from joy, as I open my eyes and see clearly the love for me in all its different forms.

I am my Father's daughter in this repect, being overwhelmed by tears of emotion, and I have often found myself unable to speak/sing/read out loud, when the emotions get too powerful. I remember seeing Free Willy with Lizzy, when we sat in the front row and blubbed from the opening scenes to the credits at the end. I also recall a Christmas at Julia's when we gathered round for a group reading of A Christmas Carol, all had to read out loud a section of the book. Julia had to finish off my reading as I disolved into a liquid mess. And I will never forget the first full rehearsal in Bournemouth of Britten's War Requiem, where the unbearable pain and raw emotion of the piece had me sobbing uncontrollably during the break, and there were many times during the performance when I was too choked-up to sing.

Neil Diamond, a singer with a voice crackling (another pun intended) with emotion sang ' Dry your eyes and take your song out, it's a newborn afternoon, and if you can't recall the singer you can still recall the tune. Dry your eyes and play it slowly like you're marching off to war, sing it like you know he'd want it, like we sang it once before.' What superb lyrics!! So 2007 will be a time to do just that, to dry my eyes and take my song out in the newborn afternoon of my life. I can't wait!!

Beautiful Bisley

I have a new love in my life, a love that I have nurtured in secret for many years, afraid to reveal it to the world. I have now decided to 'come out' and confess that I am having a relationship with Bisley.
Bisley is my new filing cabinet, something that I have yearned for since I first realised they existed, and that should have been made extinct in this computer age but is still going strong.My Bisley is smooth and black and sits proudly behind me in my not-so-huge living room,being fed with all the accumulated papers of my life. Like a contented hamster, he stores all I give him until required at a later date. I am strangely and rather worryingly happy to have Bisley guarding my back.
In the other corner, growling and snarling, is whS. whS is not happy to see Bisley. whS EATS paper, and I have been feeding him rather too regularly lately, and then regretting it. What can you do, when you discover that you have fed to whS a cheque, or your latest payslip? NOTHING! The deed is done, and your cheque is now in shreds in a little bucket. whS knows that, in future, papers will go to Bisley first, and may not be fed to him for YEARS, when they are very old, and have lost their flavour. I quite expect Bisley and whS to have a fight one of these nights.

Not wishing to sound like my sister (see her blog In My Day) I would imagine that my love of keeping papers for ever stems from a little known incident about my father. Daddy had signed up, in his youth, for a lifetime membership of the National Union of Journalists (NUJ). He kept the membership details stuffed in a drawer somewhere until one day he saw an article about a small housing complex reserved exclusively for NUJ members and their spouses. Looking for somewhere to live as the lease expired on our big house, he was delighted by this news, and retrieved from the abyss his NUJ membership details. Hey Presto, he got a nice wee bungalow in Dorking for a nice wee rent, where he and Mamma lived out their days.

So I do tend to keep papers rather longer than most, and still have a few payslips from my work at the DPB, which I left in 1995, my divorce papers from Dave (1976) and Nick (1994) and a whole box-full of Jacob's drawings from when he was 2 years old. You never know when these things might be useful!!

Please Santa

It seems that the family Virgos have come up with the VGIs again. The Christmas list is SUCH a good idea, and if you make it broad enough, then you still have no idea what Christmas might bring, nor from whom. I’ve pinched Julia's format as it seems to encompass most areas.

The best present I could get from anyone is time to spend with you. Invite me over, or come and visit. For those who really want to get me a gift, read on......
1 For the home
a. Vases. Any shape or size, I like originality and unusualness.
b. An earring tree, funky and fun
c. Stationery. I think I must be related to W. H. Smith...so surpise me
2. Books
a. Biographies/ Autobiographies especially lives of philosophers and any book by Armando Gallo on Genesis.
b. Books to help me get more from my computer.
c. Anything from my Amazon wish list
don't bother with:- Cookery/Food/Diet or Gardening/Flowers. Any more of the 'Does anything eat wasps?' type. I have most of them!
3. Perfume & Bath stuff
don't bother with:- body lotion, anything Musky
4. Self-improvement
a. Make-Up lessons
b. Gastric Band Op
c. Nail Varnish
d. Advanced driving lessons
e. Any books of the 'Men are from Mars' variety.
don't bother with:- Massage/Facial/Health Spa stuff, Anything even mildly physically risky.
5. Music & DVD
a. Gilbert & Sullivan boxed set, must include Cox & Box.
b. Classical Composers beginning with G
c. Anything from my Amazon wish list
6. Clothes:- Size 24
a. Tops, especially mad T shirts, funky colours, glitter
b. Skirts, especially long swirly
don't bother with:- Scarves & Pashminas, tights and popsocks, jumpers
8. Food & Drink
a. Jams & Marmalade
b. Panforte, don't know what it is, ought to find out.
c. Unusual Alcohol-Free drinks
d. Surprise me….
9. Jewellery & Accessories
a. Earrings, can't get enough.
b. Handbags
c. Key Rings and Phone accessories
10. Charity giving…..
I am quite happy for you to give my present to a charity......my personal favourites are NSPCC, Save The Children, WWF

I only included the 'don't bother' bit, as I would hate for you to spend time and energy on something I will never use. For example, I have a box FULL of jumpers and woollies of all sorts..hate them all, I am rarely cold enough!! I often used to buy them as I liked the look, and then they go in the box.......

Love you all.........

L'Oreal

It's been a trying couple of weeks. On Wednesday 4th October my dear husband's demon brother had one drunken shouting session too many. I decided that I had endured his company for long enough and told Neil that I didn't want to live with him AND his brother, so would he kindly remove the pair of them to alternative accomodation. The situation was complicated by the text-message attention of a woman who had got the hots for Neil, and he just didn't know how to tell her to bog off politely. Thursday was spent sulking and spatting and Friday Neil found a flat to rent and started packing, although it would be a few days (thank goodness) before he could move in. I downloaded divorce forms and we started talking about separate lives. Saturday Neil decided to go away for a couple of days, and I was invited to spend the day with my BSD (beautiful step-daughter) Sarah. I relieved Neil of his keys and said what I believed to be my last goodbye.
As I waited for Sarah to have her kitchen designed at B&Q, I sat in the car park and cried and cried and cried. I hurt in places that I didn't know I could hurt as I peered into the abyss of life without my one true love. I phoned 'sensible' Becky (a Virgo, she would surely know what to do) and just blubbed down the phone like a teenager. She said all the right things but I didn't feel any better. I thought my heart was breaking. A few hours into his weekend away, Neil phoned and asked if he could come home, sounding as wretched as I felt.
Sunday we talked.............boy did we talk!! Neil has kicked out his demon brother, who only appears through alcohol. He said the nicest things about me being worth more than a few beers and that he had been to see the 'other woman' and told her to keep her thoughts to herself. He too had peered into the abyss, and didn't like what he saw. Neil & I have been very near this point before, but I think the prospect of moving out brought the problem into stark reality and focussed the mind. We cancelled the flat!!
Sunday 8th October 2006.....this I hope marks a turning point in our lives. Neil like a beer, but has freely admitted that he doesn't like the muzzy head in the mornings. He drinks coz he likes the taste, not the buzz. So started our trawl through the no/low alcohol beers on the supermarket shelves.
Forget Kaliber, despite being the best known, it is probably the least palatable. Becks do a decent copy of their german lager, and there are a number of others out there, including lo/no wine. But the best so far seems to be Sainsbury's own low alcohol German Lager.......at £1,99 for 4 it's good value too.
So....yah boo shucks to you, demon brother. Neil has his life, his wife, and his health back. He looks better, is great company and I am a very happy bunny. It has only been 10 days, and I am not naive, but optimistic for the future. L'Oreal...........

Thanks goodness THAT's finished

I love to move house, but I hate the process. Even though on the actual day of moving I usually go to work and let others better qualified than me do all the huffing and puffing, there is still the lead up to it with endless packing-up-of-stuff and then the aftermath with the endless unpacking-up-of-stuff. But the joy of living in a new place takes some time to wear off, and this flat is REALLY new, having never been lived in before. I was in conversation with a friend yesterday who said he had lived in the same house for 18 years. That would be SO boring for me. I think Neil and I have lived in 7 different residences in 12 years, and that doesn't count the motorhome/campsite year. I expect we will get everything to our liking here then start getting twitchy again.
Anyway, we finally got to completion on Monday, and now we can relax....in between bouts of shelf up-putting, of course.

On the stuff of memories, and a great day out

I had a great day yesterday. I had a half-day at work (always very pleasing) and then met my sister Julia in Eastbourne for some retail therapy. It was the first chance we have had to talk alone and in person (rather than on the phone) since the start of her relationship troubles at the beginning of the year. She seemed to me to be very bouncy and full of good humour, and we had a most enjoyable, if small, spree......especially as she helped me choose, and then paid for, 2 lovely tops from Evans. Saw Darren Cohen in Eastbourne, and Kim (used to know him from the surgery) but no-one else I know.

We went for lunch in the Townhouse, and sat in the garden. It immediately rekindled a memory of being there with Neil one summer's day, (a few years ago now) when we had one of our spoof conversations. In this one, Neil confessed about an affair.....with a man! We discussed it all just loudly enough for everyone else to hear, and were gratified to see everyone taking a great interest. I hadn't thought about it since, until I walked in there yeterday. strange!!

Later we met in Battle and had a scrumptious meal in SI, and everyone (J&P, Linda and us) was very jolly and seemed very relaxed. 4 bottles of Pinot Grigot must have helped. Neil very busy at the moment and has a long day today, so we said 'No' to Champagne at Linda's and came home. Shame, I like a drop of the old Bubbly.

Lots to do. May drive to Portsmouth.

On Other People's Blogs

I love reading my diary, and often pick a choice moment out from history to read to Neil at bedtime. It's nearly as much fun as reading someone else's diary. I have always enjoyed that enormously, and think it is fascinating to have a glimpse into other people's lives. I enjoy books that are in diary form too. I particularly like the Blog (especially my sister's) as they are so immediate, and often deal in trivia or the minutiae of daily living. I have found that when I keep my diary EVERY day, it is full of these fascinating insights, as well as the more momentous events. Often though, I play catch-up, and realise that the minutiae have been lost in the mists (I mist up pretty quickly) and I can only remember BIG things. It maybe a feature of this Blog-site that it selects random blogs for reading if you wish, and I often do, and pick up on people ranting about politicians, or celebrating a birthday, or just chuntering on like this. GREAT!

On memory and er.......I forget

I remember seeing an episode of Grumpy Old Women recently which had me crying with laughter, as one of the participants described how she forgets the name of things. She wanted her husband to bring something in from the area outside the house, but for some reason could not summon up the word 'Garden' from her memeory. Well, I just fell about!! This happens to me so often, that I began to wonder if it was just me, but then I got news that it was happening all around me. Phew!
Except, that it, with my sister Julia. She has the most astonishing memory, quite clear, quite unforgiving. I was reading her Blog about mice at our family home. If her recollection is right, I was 12 before they disappeared as a result of the newly erected TV mast. Surely, I must have remembered something? Nope, not a mouse dropping in sight. (I DO remember the maggots at the bottom of the dustbin, as these were the days before bin liners, and I have hated dutbins ever since) So how come she remembers all this stuff and I don't? I used to think that it was a result of a lifetime of epilepsy medication and dreadful, mind wrenching seizures, but now I am not so sure. Other people seem to have the same problems. How come I can't remember the mice, but I can remember the feeling of having my socks put on? How can she remember things that I said and did, and I can't? It's a good job she does really.........half the family history would be shrouded in the mists of time if it were not for her clarity of memory. Of course, some things I would rather forget......
One thing I don't forget is my friends and family. I love to keep in touch with my nearest and dearest and over the years I have constantly phoned, written, sent birthday cards, E mails and swapped mobile phone numbers. Mostly this will elicit a response, which may keep going for a while, but eventually it fades out and you wonder if you have been totally forgotten. Take my friend Daphne. If I phone her, she will be delighted to hear from me. She will invite us to dinner at her house in Eastbourne. She will promise to keep in touch, and I won't hear from her again unless I phone and repeat the process. My friends and family are enormously important to me. I think that a love or a friendship is a vibrant, active thing..it has to be nurtured and taken out and played with regularly, or it will just fade away in the corner. So why don't people take more trouble with them? How long does it take to send an e mail or a text? Of course, enough people DO take the trouble to keep in touch, and that's great and keeps me buzzing. We even get regular calls from Greece.
Of course, if we all lived in familyville................

Statistics and Probability Twirly Stuff

There is one flat above my office. At the rear of the office is a small, private car park for the use of staff in our office (4 max), our clients and other visitors (varies, rarely more than one at a time) and, when we are not there, the cars of the upstairs residents and their friends. Because I live nearby, I often park in there, as parking in the street is dodgy and often impossible.

I was amazed to realise the other day, that there were only 2 cars parked there, mine and someone from the upstairs flat, and we both had car registration numbers beginning with 'P205'. This started me thinking about co-incidences and probability and I have been trying to work out the odds of two cars parking in the same private car park having the same 4 digits of registration number. The trouble is, I don't know how to work it out, or what information I need. I have found out that there are 27,028,000 taxed cars in UK. Of those, 1,854 have registration numbers beginning P205. That is a ratio of 14578:1. I do not know whether this information is relevant. I suppose I have to look at ALL the people with that number who could possibly have parked there at that time.. Do I? I dunno. Is there anyone out there who knows how to calculate this stuff?

The whole idea of coincidences thrills me. I sometimes think that there must be a parallel universe which bends near and far from us, and when it touches, we get a coincidence. That would explain sooo much. I mean, the way that Neil and I met was the result of a bizarre set of circumstances that would not normally all occur together. Because they did, I met the love of my life. Is is any wonder that people believe in fate, or a controllling deity?

Doesn't it make your brain go twirly? Does mine.

Things that make me feel that I'm mad

The song says...........'I said "who put all those things in your head, things that make me feel that I'm mad? and you're making me feel like I've never born"'The trouble with having spaces where a brain should be is that once the idea goes in, it makes you go all twirly until you can sort it out. The trouble with going to see my sister is that she is quite capable of filling me up with such twirly thoughts. Take this as an example:-She said (there's that song again) that there has been research done which says that children willingly, nay...intentionally.....adopt a role in the family. Therefore one will take on the role of 'eldest child', another the 'baby'. Now this is all very interesting, but is it true? And who said it? And can it be proved anyway? The whole point about theories is that they can, like statistics, be made to fit your argument by conveniently ignoring other scenarios. The idea that, as the youngest of 4 siblings, I somehow intentionally adopted the role of baby is bizarre. I contend that the position that you have in your family will, to a great extent, dictate the role you play, and this is foisted upon you from birth by your parents and other siblings. I also firmly believe that once the relationship has been established, that it will stay that way for the rest of your life. It doesn't matter what role you may play in the rest of your world, you will revert to the order dicated by sibling positioning whenever you are together in the same environment.
Crikey, this is interesting stuff!! I know that books galore have been written on the subject, and I have read one of them. Maybe I need to go out more. At least by writing this down, I have got rid of those twirly thoughts and have been able to clear my spaces out for the next info load.

Families: Who'd have 'em?

Well, I certainly would! What a joy it was to see my sister, brother-in-law and niece on Sunday. And to have my son and his girlfriend here too! It was almost perfect, but not quite. Perfection is Familyville. Now, everyone seems to think this is a VERY bad idea, but wait a bit........let me sell it to you. Sit back and imagine for a moment........
You buy/build a house. You live in it with your significant other and your child/ren. Child gets too big for boots, needs own space but loves mummy and daddy to bits and VV. So child buys/builds house next door to live in with significant other. This Sig Oth wants his/her brother/sister/cousin/aunt to live close by so THEY buy/build house in Familyville and so-on and so-on until you have ALL your relatives living round you but not WITH you. No more long journeys to visit Aunt Maudlin........just walk down the street. Birthday bashes are a doddle.....pop round the corner to the restaurant which is run by Uncle Fungle and his family. You wouldn't have to worry where your kids had gone, cos as long as they are in familyville, they would be with a relative. And finding a babysitter would be as easy as falling off a highchair.
Of course there are a few little problems with Familyville, and I am sure you will think of some, but as a concept, you have to admit it is brilliant! Maybe, in a sense, that is where we are at anyway, as I guess everyone is related to someone else if you go back far enough. Maybe my husband is really my 15th cousin 28 times removed. Maybe (and this is the dodgy bit) I am the 14th pale descendant of someone with a nasty streak. But, as the song says 'we are family'.
I still enjoyed seeing the family on Sunday. It is great to be able to laugh, cry, argue etc with them, knowing that they will still love me, whatever, and will want to see me again and laugh,cry,argue etc all over again. I think it is the sure and certain knowledge of this love that makes me such a keen supporter of Familyville. I mean, imported people (friends & lovers) don't have to make this commitment and you can never be 100% sure of them. Does that make me unlucky with my friends or lucky with my family?
Typing this Blog in Georgia, probably 12. Whoever thought that Times New Roman 10pt was a suitable default font for ANYTHING needs trepanning. Arial 10 is just as bad. Can't read it without a microscope, and it is Soooooooooooooooooo old-fashioned. First thing I did at my office was to change default font to something readable, and we currently use Tahoma 12, modern without being brash and big enough to read without specialist equipment.
Hey, I heard that the house next door to you is vacant................when can I move in?