Animals and birds, Domestic Goddess, Families, Family, Food, Inspiration, Laughter, love, real life, Whatever, women

Who is in control?

I’m away on holiday with my other half. We are celebrating his birthday.

I love to be organised.  I need to have things in order, what I’m eating, where I go. My work needs to be arranged in advance. So when I’m on holiday I find that I’m a little out of my depth! Others are doing things for me, making my decisions. And will have had to be organised in advance, so I literally don’t have to be.

I find it a little disconcerting.

Of course I love being looked after and relish the idea that I don’t have to cook or wash up. But I have to make the bed, tidy the pillows and push the chairs back. I even wash the little cups before the cleaners come in to the room in the morning. Yes – I’m the woman who has to clean the house before the cleaner comes in – if I had a cleaner…

We are in a complex, in an apartment. That is a posh hotel room – with a little kitchen. We are overlooking a beautiful golf course, surrounded by trees. The geese fly over head to get to the lakes that surround the accommodation, and squirrels run up and down the trees finding their next meal. Of course the place is kept spotless. The cleaners wizz around on their bikes, and the maintenance people are in electric vans. They have it down to a tee.  Each villa and apartment is made with the same material and fitting so when something brakes they don’t have to work out what is needed – its all the same, so is easy to repair or replace! Brilliant, quick and efficient!

For someone who is so organised and controlling – this is the place of my dreams!

Now we are going for dinner tonight. It has taken us a few attempts to decide what restaurant we want to go to. We wrote the names of all the choices on pieces of paper, and picked the one that we were going to tonight. Please don’t tell me we are the only ones who do this. In fact I find it focuses the mind! If our first choice isn’t really the one we want to go to – we discard it and actually commit the one we want to go to!  So we are going out for a steak to the French restaurant, and if I can I will sit on the right hand side, near the window so I can watch the world go by!

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Domestic Goddess, Families, Inspiration, Laughter, real life, Whatever, women

Tea from a china cup

There is nothing nicer than drinking tea from a bone china cup, or a mug. To me that is a real luxury. Hot tea, with just a drop of milk so the flavour comes through. Just brewed for enough time. 3 minutes. I’m not talking about loose leaf tea, but a simple tea bag will do.

Isn’t it odd how everyone’s definition of luxury is so very different. From the mum who want 5 minutes to her self, to those who demand high end goods, and the best of everything.

We all have our own definition.

The chink of the china as you lay it on the table, and light weight feel  as the handle cradles your fingers. as if it was made for you. Bright white, not a gaudy colour insight.

Now, if it wasn’t in the sink with a pile of dirty mugs, then that would be luxury its self. Better get washing!

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Inspiration

In the Name of ‘Normal’ (the story of a broken fence)

So many folks must be walking around not knowing why they do what they do. I work with a psychiatrist who says ‘labels are only for jam!’ And our past and and those ‘labels’ dont define who we are.
An amazingly written piece. Im glad Ju you have hopefully found peace.

Ju Blencowe’s blogg

IMG_7802It is this time of year when the memories of being broken come flooding back and respectfully I acknowledge them and can now gently embrace them as valuable jewels in my life. In a few weeks time it will be three years since my mum died, two years since I went missing, since walking to London for Missing People, a year since going into reclusive mode and starting to write my book, a year since being unable to walk, two months since foot surgery and a two weeks since receiving a formal diagnosis of autism.

How life can change in an instant. If you had met me several years ago I would have presented to you as a completely different person. My job title was Teaching Fellow at a very well respected University. I had a beautiful room in the Social Science and Public Policy Department and taught students who…

View original post 1,638 more words

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Families, Family, genealogy, history, Inspiration, Spirt and soul

Remembering Family.

I’m seriously into genealogy. I was adopted, but I know who my birth mother is, I met her a few times before she died at the end of the 1990’s. My father is a mystery – so far.

Last year I took my DNA with Ancestry, and when the results came back, a whole new world literally opened up before my eyes! I had connections – all be it distant – in America, Germany, Israel, Australia  and New Zealand. My continued search is another story that I’m sure you will hear about.

Why I’m writing this today, because in the United Kingdom Sunday 27th January 2019 is Holocaust Memorial Day. For many of us, this is something that we have read about, learned in school, and have seen at least one of the films that has been made about the events that happened in WW2.

I opened up an email a few weeks ago from My Heritage. a genealogy site that allows you like many others to build up your family history.  Quite an innocuous email, names I didn’t recognise. I clicked on one of the names to see if the snippet of information could lead me to some other information I already held.  It said the girl had died in a concentration camp. When I looked at her parents, it said the same. This information was like a  jab in my heart. These unknown people who were in my history somewhere had died in the most terrible way I could imagine!

Of course I never knew them, and I have no idea how they are related to me. It was only up until a year ago that I imagined I could be feeling this wave of sadness today.

Our history is so much more than a birth, marriage and a death certificate isn’t it?

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Uncategorized

Grand National

I think that they should just let the horses run the Grand National without a jockey on their back. They seem to do so much better on their own! The ride might take longer, they still run at a pace. But riderless

horses don’t seem to fall. Isn’t that what we want?

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