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Closed for much needed holiday …

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Please leave your message after the tone   BEEEEEEEEEP!

This blog is officially closed until I return from Lesvos ..

We fly out on Thursday morning .. by Thursday lunchtime I will be on that beach!

I really can’t wait ..

.. I’m off to become a bronzed goddess!   (hmmmm… ok maybe I lie a little!)

 

 

Bovine faeces

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Sometimes you have to cry STOP!   Sometimes you have to let go, and say what is on your mind.. sometimes you have to be bloody honest.   Today has been one of those days for me.

I don’t know if I am seen as being stupid, or an easy touch .. but I am neither.  Sometimes I keep my mouth shut to have an easy life.

Now and again I say what I think, what I believe.

Never try to pull the wool over my eyes.  I am far wiser than I let on, I am joker and a fool for a reason.   My own reason that helps protect me from bullshit, lies and narcissism.

People sadly underestimate me… because I let them, but the wise and the honest  see right through me and they understand.  It is a shame that more people do not.

Revel in your pity, revel in your angst – my life has no room for either.

A look within …

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Fortytude is a book by Sarah Brokaw… I admit to not having read it (yet!) but the introduction makes me nod my head in agreement

“It takes courage to look within, but this is what we must do.  By examining ourselves closely and coming to a deeper understanding of what matters most to us as unique individuals, we can separate the societal messages from our own hearts’ calling, let go of ideas of what should be, and instead embrace what is.  You can take a stand and say proudly:  ‘This is who I am.”  Or, if you’re at a point where you’re reinventing your life, you can say:  ‘This is who I want to be – and I’m going to go for it!”  This process takes a kind of strength that I call ‘fortytude.’”   Sarah Brokaw.

I totally agree with her … as someone who has met, shaken hands and said goodbye to my forties it proved to be a time for me when I came of age, when I finally accepted me, my faults and discovered the depth of strength that I have.

As I have entered my 50’s, with little grace or delicacy, I have realised that I have made little impact on the world, nor do I really want to.

I have changed as a person, I’m less wild these days.  I do still speak my mind and I know that I always will.   Not everyone will like that, but that is not my problem.

My fifties are where I finally have become the person I am happy with.     I did for a short while think I wasn’t .. I thought there were parts of me that had to change then I realised the key word there .. “change” ..  it wasn’t me who felt the need for me to change, but someone else.    They wanted me or needed to be someone I am just not.

Changes would have meant me sacrificing part of me to make someone else happy.  That is not the point of life and far too big a responsibility for me to undertake.

Happiness and change should come from within not from outside forces.  Let’s face it .. no matter how perfect we claim to be none of us actually are.   Nor should we ever wish to be.   It is our faults who make us human and as imperfect as we are it is normally the imperfections in someone we are interested in.

Attitude .. and a lesson in life

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“The longer I live, the more I realize the impact of attitude on life. Attitude to me is more important than facts. It is more important than the past, than education, than money, than circumstances, than failures, than success, than what other people think or say or do. It is more important than appearance, gift, or skill. It will make or break a company…a church…a home. The remarkable thing is we have a choice every day regarding the attitude we will embrace for that day. We cannot change our past…we cannot change the fact that people will act in a certain way. We cannot change the inevitable. The only thing we can do is play on the string we have, and that is our attitude. I am convinced that life is 10 percent what happens to me and 90 percent how I react to it. And so it is with you… we are in charge of our attitudes. “

~ Charles Swindoll

Bugger it!

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I’m off work today .. I felt a bit unwell at work yesterday but had a bad night and I feel totally wiped out today.

My blood pressure is  high again, I took a reading last night and again this morning and it hasn’t really changed.  It’s not at the “drop down dead” stage by any means but it is higher than it should be.

I’m not keen to do to the doctors again, the last time I had a problem with my blood pressure they couldn’t decide whether it was because I had a wee virus that was putting it up, or that it was my blood pressure that was making me feel to tired and unwell.

I am having a “doing bugger all” day just slobbing around, dozing, keeping warm and refusing to let my mind think about anything.

I am hoping that by tomorrow I am feeling a bit like myself again, I want to go out to meet the gals in Edinburgh tomorrow night.

Thankfully it is only a week until I fly off with three friends for a lovely holiday in Lesbos .. I don’t think it can come round soon enough!

I really need to chill, kick back, laugh my demons away….. even the thought of that makes me feel a wee bit better!

 

 

With a cutie on my lap…

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Doesn’t often happen so thought I would share this picture of Bailey and I!

CJ and Bailey

Leave the drama at the door

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I’m at the age where my priorities and outlook from what I want from life are much more simple and less “idealised” than what I wanted in my youth.

I no longer want to conquer the world or be a millionaire, I no longer envy what other people have because I have everything in my life that makes me contented and happy.  I would like to share this with someone.

I don’t want a partner to change or rock my world, I just want someone who understands me and my life. I simply want to keep being contented and have someone who makes me smile, understands my need for “me time” and doesn’t expect me to be the reason for their happiness or security.

I want a partner who has a life, enjoys her life, lives her life and has space in it to share some of her time with me and to look forward to our shared time together.

A relationship has to be a shared experience, not always 50/50 as sometimes one or the other will need support and understanding but it has to work both ways.

I don’t want to be rushed into things or made to feel guilty about parts of me and my make up that I have accepted and don’t want to change. I do not want to be changed, I simply want to be me, with someone who is comfortable in their own skin and life and someone that is happy to have me in their life to compliment it .. not to make it.

I want honesty, reliability and affection.  I want to compromise, not give in.   I want to laugh, not worry.

Too much to ask for?  You tell me..

How others see us…

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O, wad some Power the giftie gie us

To see oursels as others see us!
It wad frae monie a blunder free us,
An’ foolish notion.
What airs in dress an’ gait wad lea’e us
An’ ev’n Devotion 

Robert Burns

Stop.

Sometimes in life we just have to stop.   Look around, weigh things up and be honest with ourselves.

I have always said that I have at last found myself and I truly believe I have.

Behind me I have a life that I have lived to the full.   I have achieved a lot, lost a lot, laughed a lot and cried a lot.

I have lived and I wouldn’t change a thing.

My way’s are not always right for other people but they are right for me.

If I was asked to describe myself in 10 words they would be

  1. Friendly
  2. Honest
  3. Open
  4. Grumpy
  5. Loving
  6. Kind
  7. Fat
  8. Impatient
  9. Sorted
  10. Lesbian
But I stress this is how I see ME!  … I would love to see how others see me .. be honest .. no offence will be taken .. honest!

A wet weekend

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It looks as if this weekend is going to be a wet one .. which is a bit of a bugger since I am (for the 2nd weekend running!) stuck at my cottage with Brae, who still has her stitches from her cruciate ligament repair.

I was planning to get out into the garden (and hopefully the weather will let me do this!) but it is not going to be a weekend for trying to brown my “peelly wally” skin in preparation of a week being a slob in Lesvos in a couple of weeks.

I love my wee cottage and the peace of mind that it brings me, I am happy to spend time on my own (well .. with my dug!) but when it is forced upon me as when I was snowed in for fortnight during the winter… or now because of Brae’s leg, I feel trapped, restless, not at peace.

I can keep myself busy even if I can’t get out in the garden.. I am going to start making paper logs for my fire (free fuel.. love it!), I am going to finish packing for my holiday, I can reorganise cupboards again, I can rock on my chair and drool .. you know .. lots of things!

<sigh>

Mostly I am going to concentrate on getting back to a peaceful state of mind .. I may also read, watch some films, play with my iPod ..

So … that’s my wet weekend … JEEZ Im getting boring!

Tooth and nothing but the tooth…

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Teeth seem to have played an important part of my life ..  which is surprising since I have a phobia about dentist and will suffer untold pain until I am forced to go.  This being due to a school mobile dentist drilling down into my nerve without giving me an injection (I kicked him and ran all the way home!).

My gran was a tough auld bird, a farmer and a strong character and personality.  I loved my gran.   To me she was most wonderful woman in the world and could do no wrong.   She loved me back .. but inadvertently terrorised me.

My gran had no teeth .. just gums .. these were mighty powerful gums and she could eat an apple no problem.  She did have false teeth (that she never wore, not even for special occassions!) and these lived outside of the kitchen on the window sill.   My cousins Linda and Anne and I were often running wild together at the farm and no doubt drove my gran mad.    We knew when we had gone too far .. the threat that scared us beyond all others was offered to us with a scowl and a wave of a wooden spoon “any more of that nonsense and the teeth will get you” … we were petrified.   The worst of it was she had a broom store under this window, and when we were sent outside for a broom or mop we had to develop a “run past and grab” technique .. just in case those mighty teeth gave us a bite.

Things to do with teeth didn’t improve much for me when I was around 7 years old.   I was told to go and brush mine (thankfully they were and are still attached to me!) .. and I duly obliged.   However I mixed up toothpaste and deep heat and ended up with huge stinging lips and gums.   A trip to the doctor was duly hastily arranged and off we went.  My gran hauling me by the arm up the road to get the bus into Dunfermline.   The doctor advised that my mouth be kept out of the sun and protected for a week or so.  Fine.. or so I thought .. until I got home and had to wear a black barlaclava .. it should be said at this point that this was the summer … so imagine the picture .. shorts, t-shirt, wellies (on a dairy farm we wore wellies all year round due to the amount of cow poo! see picture above!) and a barlaclava ..   my mum has a photo of me and my cousins standing for the camera… the sad thing is I bet I am smiling under that barlaclava!

Roll on 30 years or so .. my dad dies.   Very suddenly, in the car outside the house.    I was living in Croydon at this time and flew up first thing the next morning.   At home I decided I had to be practical (I’m good at being practical!) .. so I offered to clean the inside of the car for my mum.    As I was washing the seat one of the neighbours approached me to say that while they had been waiting on the ambulance a couple of them had tried to revive my dad and in the process had taken out his false teeth and put them in the glove compartment.

Problem.   False teeth in glove compartment.  Me.    What to do.

I tried to remedy the situation by getting a plastic bag and picking them up that way.. but I couldn’t do it .. no way .. so I asked my sister to do it for me.   Margaret had been standing beside me the whole time watching my failed efforts to pick the teeth up and promptly refused.  The result being we were having a sister hissy fit argument outside the house.

Something caught my eye .. it was my mum at the window laughing at us .. eventually Margaret did pick up the teeth for me .. and we trotted back into the house to find my mum crying … with laughter .. she said my dad would have laughed his socks off at the pair of us .. and you know what .. she was right!

The saga of my dad’s teeth doesn’t end there.   I hadn’t seen my dad for 3 months before his death (due to me being down south) .. so I wanted to go to the funeral parlour to pay my last respects.  My mum didn’t feel she could go so I was all ready to go myself when she handed me a really scabby looking plastic bag… “whats this” said me … “it’s your dad’s teeth, can you hand them in at the funeral parlour”

I was frozen to the spot .. me .. alone in my car with a pair of false teeth beside me .. could I do it … it was for my dad .. I had to do it .. I had to …

I put them in the boot and locked it!

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