My husband has been down lately, but his mood was lifted the other day, when we were out for the afternoon, and he found a Hat. 
(Just the sort he's been looking for for ages, and at a very good price, too.)
I didn't hesitate, but scooted off to the cash machine to draw money out,
because I knew that if I didn't, he would walk away, regret it deeply, and become even more morose.

Its now in the hallway, and he puts it on every time we go out, even to Asda or the DIY store. 
Its lovely to see him so cheered.

Playfully I said to him last night -
'I'm surprised you're not going to sleep in your hat'
and he said, dead-pan,
'Of course not.  My feet would stick out of the bottom'

love and blessed be
xxx

Although prints of my artwork have been selliong slowly and steadily, I do feel that I've been in a bit of a creative vaccuum for most of this year.  There are probably several reasons for that.  But heres a curious thing;  I have found some things that I want to post here on livelournal, and the strange thing is that my writing seems to flow better if I assume my Wiltinwickwitch persona - can something that is in itself a fiction become so real?  It seems so.  That part of me that is a writer is definitely locked into Wiltinwickwitch.
I shall keep this area for if I feel I want to wrtite something personal, so please keep these_pearls on your friends list; - but if you also want to add wiltinwickwitch, I'd be very, very happy to see you there.
love and blessed be
xxxx

An ancient tree
Beside the river
Beyond the ruined abbey

His arms reached to the sky
His sparkling leaves
His strong, gnarled trunk.

You saw how I felt
when I gazed at him

You said;
Don't think that
I would carve a heart for you, there.
And all my dreams
fell swirling away.

Well;
Who asked you
to damage such beauty?
Nobody did.

I didn't.

I would never ask that.

A little late in the day, but it does seem that we have begun to discover what retirement (for Stuart at least;  I'm still wprking weekends) is all about;

We bought a dinky little Romahome campervan (on ebay!) last week, and this week, we're equipping it and making sure its all fine, before giving ourselves a night away in it.

- the weather? No, not worried about that.  This is just a means to go places, economically, explore and have somewhere to cook and sleep at night.  So many special places to see.  When I worked on the cruise ships, I loved waking up in a new place each morning;  now we can do that around our own beautiful countryside.

Here we go!

love and blessed be

My home town, Blackpool, is known for its colourful characters (thats why I feel at home here) but one piece of news this week has had everybody chuckling.

A previous mayor has been charged and found guilty of several counts of burglary - or more precisely, breaking in to certain houses (more than once) to steal ladies' underwear.  He was caught when one woman realised that her underwear was going missing, and set up a camera in her bedroom.

wtf;  any other cross dresser would borrow his wife's gear, or send off to a nice catalogue....   Burglary seems unneccessary, somehow.
And if he wanted shoes, theres that specialist supplier for cross dressers everywhere, based in Essex;  beautiful glittery size elevens, with  six inch heels.

I wonder if it was the burglary that was the real turn-on?
We'll never know, will we.

love and blessed be
xxx

In the last couple of weeks, we have visited no less than four places that are dear to us, and that we have missed for a long time, while living away from the north.

We went to Newcastle, early last week, and spent an excellent day in the city centre, shoping and people watching, and simply enjoying being there.  Newcastle is a great city, and the people are always so friendly. In the past when we have visited, it has been for Stuart either a conference or something University related, and I got to wander around alone.  So he always missed out on some of the best bits.

Then we visited some friends who have a cottage just above Hawkshead in the Lake District.  The view from here is spectacular. Hawkshead is lovely.  We walked a path along the hillside from the cottage to the village on our way to dinner (I had pheasant in an excellent red wine sauce) in an excellent pub (Hawkshead has four).  And turning a corner, came to the churchyard from where we looked down on the rooftops, and dropped down into the narrow streets.  Heavenly.

We visited Sizergh Castle, yesterday, a place very dear to our hearts, but which was incredibly chock full of visitors in the house, so we spent most of our time in the garden.  I've never seen it so full - the crowds spoiled it a little for us, but its still always good for a visit.  The grounds are so peaceful.  The house is atmospheric when its quiet, but was impossible absorb yesterday.  At least I got to see my favourite green man carvings in the drawing room;  but I gave up on the rest.

And yesterday evening found us on the east side of Coniston Water (we didnt go into the village) in our favourite lakeside parking place, watching the clouds moving to cover and reveal the Old Man by turns, across the lake, as the sun set.  Too beautiful for words.

Add to this that we live in my favourite place, where we can swim, cycle, walk or visit the theatre - or just people watch, by the sea!  I count myself very lucky.

As we drove home (only seventy miles) I said to Stuart
'Here's a question for you;  do you think you're getting the hang of retirement, now?'
He had to admit that this was how he had hoped it would be.

love and blessed be
xxx

My daughter ElleJay was with us for the last four weeks, and its been wonderful to have her here;  - not just because of the help she gave us with the house, but also because of the support she gave while my mother was suddenly unexpectedly ill.  She's great fun to have around, anyway, and I know how lucky I am to have a daughter who is so close to me, in spirit if not in miles.

The week of my mothers illness, (and the one before it, where I felt compelled to read my own cards,) have been a total emotional roller coaster of a ride.  Fortunately a quiet day in S. Lakeland worked its therapeutic magic on me, and my head is much clearer, now.

But, now that Elle has gone, the house is much too quiet and again too big for just the two of us. 

My morning routine of laundry, greenhouse, phonecalls, and either work, swimming or volunteering is back on track.  Much to be done, still, but no real urgency in my heart.

love and blessed be
xxx

Looking at the weeks to come, I think that life will clear a little for taureans like me in the autumn.  There are already signs of this happening, even though the summer still contains quite a bit of hard work.

For myself, although the main work is about the house (still a few big jobs to complete) things are taking shape. 
My smallest bedroom is now a study, and will soon have a fridge in it so that I can make us breakfast in bed whenever I feel like it. 
My third bedroom is now a small gym, with exercise bike, pilates mat, abdo cruncher, band, ball, weights and radio, and I do half an hour in there most mornings.  (I was inspired to do this - and to throw out four bags of clothes now too big for me! - when I learned that I have lost seven kilograms since christmas)
Our bedroom is finished, and the second (guest) bedroom is yet to be done.  I'm looking forward to visits from friends I haven't seen in a long time. The greenhouse should be finished in the nxt two days. Our cycles have been into the shop and are now ready to ride along the Prom again.

And I'm rejoining the health club at the Norbreck Castle Hotel on Friday, so that I can go to pilates and aquarobics every week.  Add to this working two days a week and five off, its pretty good, isn't it?

love and blessed be
xxx

I guess we've all thought about Love during our lives, and changed our minds at different times about what it means.

When I was young, it meant a grand passion for someone whose social and political views were so far apart from mine, that we could only have made each other unhappy.  And yet (you know, that physical pain when you think of them) it fitted the usual definition of Love, even though it caused great pain.

When I left my first husband, I realised that what I wanted wasn't great sex (although that's important, and always a bonus - after all, a less than perfect lover can always be taught little tantric tricks to heighten  pleasure) but a good conversation.  And someone whose views and background were not too dissimilar to my own.  Someone who had the same sense of humour, and perhaps enjoyed the same films, tv and books.

Now I realised that the best basis for any great relationship, is that the person should be genuinely good, a 'best friend' and capable of loving me and expressing that love. This is the best kind of Love, not a sell-out from passion.   I wasted too many years on people who don't fit this criteria, before I learned some sense, and could finally see when I was lucky.

We all pray for Love, if we pray at all;  perhaps we should also pray to appreciate it, when it comes along.  That best friend who loves us.  I mean, how often does it happen in a lifetime?

love and blesed be
xxx

On Monday afternoon and evening, a beautiful pigeon, obviously damaged, settled on our shed roof, sheltering against the garage wall, and stayed there.  It was shivering, and didn't move, even when |I threw bread for it.  We watched easily, because we have large patio doors that allow a full view of that part of the garden.

Then two huge magpies swooped down and attacked it;  I guess they knew that it was damaged.  It fluttered to the ground, right outside the patio door, and they came down, still attacking.  I rushed to the patio and chased them away.  Birdie hid under the bench, among some spare plantpots. He took some food.  Later that evening I realised I couldn't see him, and on Tuesday morning, he'd gone.

But on Wednesday morning, I got up, looked down the stairs, and there he was, limping around in my hallway! ( He must have come in through the open back door on Monday evening, and been in the house for 36 hours, because I hadn't had back door or patio doors open on Tuesday, because of the rain)  Stuart said Birdie had to go outside, and he went straight back under the bench, until evening when he began to try his wings (still not working) and began to flutter against the glass of the patio doors.

'No'  Stuart said, firmly;  'You can't bring him in.'  But he relented when a cat came prowling past.  I chased the cat away, and Stuart said I could put Birdie in the garage (no cars in there, just storage and workshop)  Which is where he is now, happily pecking at his food, and hiding under the workbench if I get too close.  I think it will take a while before he can fly again, but at least he's alive, eating and drinking, and in a safe airy place until he can fly again.

He's beautiful.
Solstice blessings, everyone!

love and blessed be
xxx

A few weeks ago, a very old lady I know felt chest pains, and since these were radiating down her left arm, she dialled 999.  The ambulance came, she explained, picked up the hospital bag that she always keeps ready, and stayed in hospital until  she was well enough to come home.  I was impressed by her cool. 

I couldn't help comparing this with an old man I knew who had a fall, and when the ambulance collected him, he was taken into hospital wearing a bloody pyjama top, with nothing else, to change into or to clean him up.  Since hospitals (around here at least) no longer carry any spare clothing he stayed (-his blood encrusted face not even washed-) in those same bloody clothes for a few days.

My family used to laugh at me for keeping a small bag packed;  mainly because this was a hangover from the days when I lived in fear of my first husband, and knew that I had to make a quick getaway sometime, if he came looking.  But when  my daughter was suddenly seriously ill 4 years ago, I picked it up, and got on a plane.

So now (although my ex is dead, and I am cured of that dreadful fear) I am re-instating the bag - for the day when either my husband or I need suddenly to go into hospital (age isn't the issue, as Ellejay proved four years ago) or we need to suddenly reach or accompany someone. (The last time I did this was just before Christmas) A change of underwear, a toothbrush, deodorant, a flannel, a shirt for Stuart, and a kaftan for me. Sorted. Now, like the old lady who impressed me so much, I intend to add in a list of any medication we're taking, just in case.
Just something to think about.

Unbelievable - I received my first 2009 Christmas catalogue yesterday, complete with bargains on lights and wrapping paper.
- It's May, right?

love and blessed be
xxx

Mothers Day;  a day to honour the Goddess (who is Mother of us all) within us, I think.

My mother and I have not been close for most of my life, but in the last few years that has changed.
I never thought it would.
I say this because I know that there are those amongst my friends who believe it will never be good between them and their mother.  What can I say?  I didnt believe it, either, but it happened finally, and I'm glad.
This is especially true since I am back within reach of her, and there for her when she needs me.
Trust me.

love and blessed be
xxx

we get a screwfix catalogue  sent to us regularly, and yesterday's had new lines from evostick,
who now claim to make a sealant that 'kills MRSA'.  My bemused (ex nurse) DIYer husband wondered, 'where do you stick it?!!!' 
(yes, nurses everywhere can think of possibilities; some of them involve doctors)
but then went on to read another new product from evostick,
a variation on 'no nails' which is actually called 'sticks like sh*t'

heheh.  It does what it says on the can.

;)
love and blessed be
xxx

Woke this morning to Terry Wogan celebrating St Patricks Day (predictably!) with some excellent gentle jokes that poke fun at his countrymen, but really need his voice to replicate them.

But the best was a song by the Corrigans -
'There's no-one as Irish as Barak O'Bama'
which I absolutely loved!
Great fun!

Its not just me.  The last few days have been so gloriously mild, and the birds and the flowers (- and the midges by the canalside at Glasson! -) all believe that Spring has arrived.  Yesterday I rewarded myself with one of my favourite things, a walk in the Rock Gardens round the corner from my house.  Wonderful.  Children playing, people walking dogs, magpies swooping and blackbirds singing.  Daffodils and crocuses everywhere and buds beginning on the trees.

I was strolling through the gardens, crunching along on the gravel, pausing only to pet dogs or to take photos of sunlight through trees, and thoroughly enjoying myself.  I stopped between the two ponds on the hillside, and looked across the higher one.  The silence should have been complete, but it wasn't - what was that?  A hundred cats purring?  Surely not.

I looked down, and in the two square metres at my feet, the pond was swarming with happy little frogs, singing to each other as they mated like mad, jumping on and off logs and females, queuing up for females and generally indulging in a real froggy orgy, as the raised temperatures told them that The Day Had Come, and they should get stuck in.

Amazing.  I watched them for ages, and tried a couple of photos, but of course their camouflage is so complete that nothing could really be seen.  But what a privilege.  Hmm, I just thought - perhaps this makes me some kind of voyeur?  No, probably not. Or if it does, what are Bill Oddie and David Attenborough?!

How  did we become
So distant?
When first there was
So much to share
to learn
to know
to hold.
Safe and warm.

Your loves and needs
Diverged from mine
And wandered away
Towards bright lights
That eclipsed
The candle in my evening window.

Remember.  And
Always know this;
There is part of me
that is forever
By old cottages
Between dry stone walls
And spring hedgerows
In sunshine
Walking with you.


love and blessed be
xxx

Some funnies from the radio this weekend;

crematorium -
one lady had asked for Gracie Fields  singing 'Sally'
What she got was 'Wish me luck as you wave me goodbye'

Another lady had asked for Judy Garland singing 'Somewhere over the rainbow'
What she got was 'Ding dong, the wicked witch is dead'
(I think I might request that for  my own)

And the minister preaching on forgiveness
asked everyone if they had forgiven their enemies.
Everyone except one little old lady put their hand up and said yes.
'Why not, Bea?' the minister asked her.
'I don't have any enemies' she replied.
'How marvellous' said the minister '-tell us how you got to 89 and don't have any enemies?'
'I outlived the buggers'

; )
love and blessed be
xxx

Someone I used to know (and thought a lot of) annoyed me intensely over the weekend.  She phoned me up with alleged information about someone I barely know here in Blackpool, and said he had a history of theft and embezzlement, and should be watched.  I should take it to someone to make sure he  is watched.  Her husbands was in the background saying 'there's no proof', and indeed came on to the line when she'd finished saying the same thing.

Now, I reflected on this, and for me, the 'evidence' added up to absolutely zero. Also the woman who phoned me, obviously passionate and concerned, didnt feel she could act on this herself, but had satisfied her distress by passing it on to someone elses shoulders.

Without proof, this could well prove to be slander;  a criminal offence.

I hate gossip.  Its so malicious, and obviously unfounded sometimes, yet there will always be those who believe it.  I have been the victim of unfounded rumours myself, and it can destroy. I know that eome folk will believe 'theres no smoke without fire', but as my mother says, 'it depends who setthe fire'.

I seem to recall that German for gossip is 'tratsch' and that this gave us the anglo-saxon word trash.  Need I say  more?

love and blessed be
xxx