Dream Country Chat

Exploding monkeys and Birthday wishes

Twas the night before Christmas, oops, sorry wrong date! Twas Idgy's birthday. My girl enjoyed her day and even started it in our traditional style.

 

Yes it was prezzie opening on the bottom of my bed. Oh how I will miss this ritual when she grows out of it and thinks unwrapping boxes on a bed is silly.

Even her furry friend has to get into the act.

 

Now the evening's entertainment is supper at a local restaurant and a trip to see the lovely Mr Depp in the latest Pirate of the Caribbean block buster.

 

Please note that the large inflatable monkey is no ordinary guest, this is Jack-E, who was originally meant to be Jack the monkey from the film.

The day before Idgy and I had spotted the monkey balloons when we were getting some party bits and pieces in town. How cool, a huge blow up monkey wearing shorts and shades. Idgy loved it. Alas Tigger the car didn't. There was just no way that both Idgy and I could get into the car and have Jack in there too. There was a mad moment when we did try, three faces pressed against the windscreen, one grinning maniacally, the other two falling about laughing. Back into the shop and hand back Jack, can we have a deflated one please. No problem. We leave the shop armed with a somewhat subdued (well let's be honest he was flat) Jack the monkey and head off to the restaurant to drop off him and cake (do you like my sunflowers?) and other party bits.

Keen eyed readers may have noticed that the monkey in the photos is somewhat more  ladylike (or is Jack just a cross dresser?) than I have been describing. I ask the waiter what happened to Jack. "Oh dear, we hoped you wouldn't notice, he exploded when we tried to inflate him" explained the waiter somewhat sheepishly.

So we end up a merry group at our booth with Jack-E the monkeyess, loads of  food, too much cake and lots of girly laughter.

On to the cinema and two hours of swashbuckling madness, 3D adventure and dear Mr Depp at his most aluring and dramatic. What can I say, another exhausting evening in the company of the joyous Johnny.

We note that Jack the monkey has a very small part in this film, you only see him about twice and each time as part of a ship in a bottle scene. Never mind we've brought our own. See us in the back row with giant inflatable monkey. Okay so it has had a sex change and wears dodgy lipstick, but hey ho, what the hell, we are girls on a mission - sheer enjoyment.

Twas Idgy's birthday.....

Karon x

 

 

Dear Idgy,

 

Tomorrow morning you will wake up and be a teenager, I can't beleive it, thirteen already, no longer my little girl. There are so many things I should say, so many things I should have said. I just don't know where to start.

 

 

Let me say first and foremost that you are wonderful, truly fabulous. You started that way and you always will be. Just look at you here with Hank, ain't you cute. And so are you Hank.

 

 

You are you, all you. You've never been overtly girly (well okay I have caught you here in your one moment of girlydom way back when - and if you can get those rocks as the real thing, go for it!) you are a tomboy just like your namesake (see film Fried Green Tomatoes at The Whistle Stop Cafe for the amazing heroine Idgy) and I love you for that.

 

 

You are honest and open, an outdoorsy country girl who loves her animals, her friends and just being you.

 

 

You are fun to be around, you make me laugh.

 

 

You are beautiful inside and out.

 

 

You care.

 

 

You are my bestest friend.

 

 

You are clever and smart.

 

You are the beating of my heart.

Thirteen years have flown by and I feel I haven't spent enough time with you, shared enough adventures, played enough games.

So this is it, moving from one era to another, a teenager, my baby all growing up and gorgeous. I still don't know what to say, oh yes maybe just one thing,

I love you.

Mum x

Catch up weekend

 

Belated Easter greetings, hope your weekend was wonderful amd that you have gathered some lovely memories for savouring in the future.

My Easter weekend has been one of catching up with friends and family and laughing a lot.

Saturday found me driving to Rosemary's and even though the weather wasn't exacty 'sun splitting the pavement' hot, we did get out in Tigger with the top down for a bit of a Thelma and Louise experience - it just has to be done, you need that kind of fix every now and then!

This was definately a girly time, shopping, coffee and cake, chat, chat, chat, wine, fabulous food and then "Out of Africa" on dvd and sobbing at the end. Oh yes, twas a lovely day.

Don't you love it when things just flow like that. Nothing major, no extreme sports/out of the ordinary happenings or anything like that. Just good times with good friends, relaxed and casual, slowed down and chilled out. It gives you time to breath again, to catch up with the you who sometimes gets run ragged and loses sight of who they are.

Sunday was driving on to visit Mum and Colin. What a difference in both of them. Mum is sharp, maybe just a tad too sharp in some comments, but hey, after last year, sharp is good. She'd watched me on telly last week and remembered the whole show, had something to say on what I was wearing (wrong of course) and even remebered telling me about using the old fashioned treatments I talked about. It was good. Isn't that nice to be able to use those words in connection with Mum, what a difference.

Colin was looking great and is getting back into his studies and searching for a new job. All things that had been put on hold for such a long time for him. He is looking forward, always good.  Only one word for all this - fabulous!

I went to see Madge knowing her daughter (and seriously good pal of mine from WAY back) Tracey would be back from Mauritius. Well it was like putting the clock back 20 years. I walked into the house, flopped on to the arm of the sofa while Tracey assumed the usual position of sprawl upon it. We then picked up conversations from YEARS ago. We fell about laughing, we teased her Mum as we had always done, we caught up on two years of chat as if it were a coffee in the high street and only a week had passed since we last saw eachother.

She is moving back to Scotland, it will be great to see her more often, fabulous to have her within a few hours drive, an easy call away.

Okay so there was no egg hunt and Idgy this year and I had been worried that I would be sad, but you know my Easter was magical in its own right, it had all the ingredients for good times and the resulting cake tasted damn good.

Hope your Easter weekend was wonderful whatever you were up to. Come on, tell all.....

Karon

Coffee, kids and off to Rio

 

It's the school holidays here. I've never been good at these times. I'm always flooded with guilt at not coming up with interesting and fun things to do, and irritation at not getting the things done that I want to do. Oh yes, the 'I'm crap at motherhood' card looms large with me whenever the school bell announces the end of another term.

We've been out for coffee with friends and Idgy has been enjoying her first ventures into playing with babies. She has always been great with younger kids, but this is all new to be playing with a little person who can't actually walk and talk yet.She is better at it than I ever was.

 

 

The mad weasel has been pressed into service and his show jumping potential explored yet again. He isn't keen but willing to throw himself  over any obstacle if there is a slice of ham involved. At times the living room looks like a mini army assault course with piles of books,  rolls of paper towels, cereal boxes and magazines all masquerading as jumps of one sort or another. Note unconscious bored ferret in photo, has he had enough? You betcha!

There has been shopping, oh yes, my girl is getting taller by the day and trousers just seem to creep from floor level to half way up the calf within a matter of weeks. Can she really be growing this fast. And feet, oh don't get me on to the shoe saga, we seem to be trekking from one shop to the next to get things that fit, that suit, that do not fall into the odious trap of  seriously gross mum'.

Today we are going to Rio (oh I wish, I wish!!!) to see a manic blue macaw entertaining us with his magic on screen. There will be a junk food fest and a good gossip afterwords. There is something about a cinema treat that just works for us, we do cinema well us girlies.

have a great weekend.

Karon x

 

Waiting for rainbows

 

Sometimes a rainbow springs up when you least expect it. A blast of ethereal colours hanging in the sky. Often the best are those that appear from a stormy grey sky, something changing, bright and unexpected.

I saw my brother on Saturday. I always cram in as much as possible when I go East to visit Mum, this time I'd arranged to meet Colin for a drink and supper before I'd go on to stay with my friend Madge.

He wasn't in great form, a bit morose, distracted, not full of jolly chat. He looked uncomfortable, lines etched upon his face and had a determination to blot out the day via the great British pint. I tried to pry, to find out what was wrong, but was deflected by "Have another one". I left feeling uneasy and horribly judgemental, thinking "why is he doing this to himself?".

Then last night the phone rang and I heard his voice. My heart plummeted, I took a deep breath. "I got test results today, I'm all clear of the cancer, it's been a year now". Release of breath, short gasps, tears spring to eyes. Oh god he's held this to himself, worried all weekend knowing these results were coming on Monday. He didn't share his fears, he kept them inside and did his best to drown his worries and hold hard to the edge of hope.  What right did I have to judge, none whatsoever. A lesson learned. Dear bro you teach me all the time.

So sometimes a rainbow appears out of the blue, or the grey or anywhere. A piece of joy, a light in life. It's been a year, a long one, a hellish one for him. He is clutching joy today and possibly his head in celebration hangover.

Karon x

Mothers Day and a change of view

 

Flowers really are Mothers Day aren't they. The whole florists industry rubs it's collective hands with glee at these momentous occasions throughout the calendar - Valentine's Day, Mother's Day, Christmas. Those special days when flowers just seem the perfect gift.

 

 

I love flowers, all flowers. From those cheapos in the supermarket to the wild delights of the countryside.

 

 

This weekend I went to see Mum in the care home. As ever the slight tremor of trepidation before entering, that 'will she, won't she' feeling of the welcome before me. 

 

 

There was no radiant bolt of sunlight highlighting and illuminating the room this time, in fact Mum was alone in her bedroom. A little frail old lady propped up on her bed watching the television.

She was pleased to see me and wanted my news ~ Idgy and school, friends and animals. But I could see a difference, I could feel a distance again. Oh no, don't get me wrong, she was still 'there' with me, but I could feel a lack of connection of other worldliness. 'You'd better go, you'll be late for your friends', this after only ten minutes, most of which were spent searching for vases for the flowers. 

Instantly I feel hurt, rejected. Then I see her side, I see how she feels. She does not want to keep me from enjoyment, she thinks she is holding me back from a more interesting and happy time. She is saying, go to your friends and have fun, you don't have to sit here with me.

 

 

This is no rejection, no turning away of love.

Realisation dawns. I look at her with a clarity of vision I hadn't felt before, so tied up as I was in the bonds of me and my feelings.

I look at my little old Mum propped up on her pillows and I smile, in fact I grin, my great big on-telly grin. "I'm here with my friend Mum, I'm here with you. Now lets get a cup of tea and eat some of this chocolate".

She smiles.

 

 

No fancy flowers and chocolates for my Mum. Just the things she loves; an armload of daffodils from the garden and all her favourite chocolate bars - a veritable stash of delights!

This time last year I doubted she would see this day, I doubted she would know me. We've made it through another Mother's Day and we did it in style, our own style, in our own special way.

Karon x

PS -  Idgy gave her mum a bright red plastic bucket filled with car cleaning stuff and an IOU for 12 washes for Tigger!

 

A Mothers Prayer

 

May she grow up strong, healthy and sure.

Able to cope, with a heart that will care.

 

 

May acceptance of self be a happy place

May she always smile at mirrors of life.

 

 

May her sea be calm and her mind open to the joys of the world and those small miracles that surround us.

 

 

May she choose her own course, hold fast and stay true to her choices

May she know herself better than most.

 

 

May she give the world the joy she gives me

And may the world fill her with abundance and love.

 

 

May she stand tall, be happy,

And sometimes remember me with joy.

 

Karon x

 

A mothers love

 

 

It's always with a certain trepidation that I visit Mum. The memories of the past year of pain and heartache are not easy to dismiss.

Put those images aside and move on. Oh it is not so easy to do. Your heart is still filled with an ache that pulls in all the years of the past tangled together like knitting yarn, tangled, knotted, twisted and used. Where is the start, where is the end?

There were months last year that were an agony of doubt.

There were so many moments when love filled every part and atom of me, when all I wanted to do most in the whole world was LOVE, love my Mum with all my heart. Pour life into her, take the sadness and confusion away. Bring her back to me.

These were the dark days. The days of visits when I was barely recognised, no, that's not true. I was always recognised, I was just not wanted. I was decried and dismissed.

I mourned my Mum as I had lost her already. Lost my mum and friend to a disease of old age. Lost her to a wilderness I could not reach or fathom. The worst thing was that it was me who was lost. For my mum had not lost my brother he was still there to her, for some reason it was me who had failed to stay within the confines of her mind. I had fallen by the wayside and she didn't want to know me any more.

I bless Christmas when I went to see her with Colin and she was Mum again. She remembered me, she was fine. The past two visits have seen her in a better place in her mind. She knows me, she talks, I am no longer dismissed as something unwanted and unloved. This means the world to me. This is a treasure beyond price.

It is always with some trepidation that I visit Mum....

Will she be the same as last time, will she have fallen back into the wilderness?

Yesterday I visited my Mum and she smiled a smile that lit the room. She said "Oh Karon, I'm thrilled to see you". She talked excitedly about seeing me on television. I mean how unreal is that? Unreal in that who'd have thunk I would ever be on tv in the first place and who would ever have imagined at any time last year that my Mum would have watched me on the box, remembered me and had pride and joy in her heart about me.

She wants news of Idgy, the pets and home. Talk of friends, talk of life. When I kiss her cheek to say goodbye there are tears. She is sad to see me go, she is crying.  I cry too and we hug each other tight, I don't want to let her go.

We smile as I leave the sun filled room.

I close the door , I talk to the  staff and I head out to the car.

Then in the quietness of the car, in that private little world, reality hits; My mum was sad to see my leave. My mum had watched me on tv. My mum was proud of me.  I was a wee girl again in Musselburgh, my mum  wanted me, I was home.

There are only two words for this "Thank You".

Karon x

 

My snow angel

 

My girl goes on her first Big School trip today. She is off to Aviemore for a skiing weekend.

 

 

She has always loved the snow, straight out there even in a blizzard. "Snow Mum, snow!".  Out there in the coldest weather without a care. Wearing too big wellies and a great big smile.

 

 

Does she ski, well not yet, but she can snow board.  Skiing is just another talent waiting in the wings for her to embrace  and make  her own.

She is so excited about this trip. There has been talk of nothing else lately. How big she is getting, how independent, how grown up. It makes me proud, it makes me happy,  it makes me sad.

 

The bag is packed, the tuck box of sweets stashed away with the DS, games, a book, pens and paper (takes after me there). She is ready to go.

She goes to her Dad's most weekends so I'm used to her absence, to the silence where there is usually chatter, TV and laughter, to the calm where there is usually chaos and mess. This feels different though, this is the big world, this is Out There.

I hope there is snow in the highlands this weekend.

Let it snow!

Karon x

The school invites you..........

 

 

My big twelve year old is at Big School now. Gone are the days of the village primary and knowing all the staff and many of the pupils. She entered this different world last August.

She says she likes it. Says she loves the bigness of it all, the choice in classes, different teachers for different subjects, lots more focus, more to talk of and learn and a wider range in friends too.

I was just moaning (who me, never!) to a friend at the weekend that I felt cut out of the loop now. Felt as if they didn't have the feedback at the big school. I didn't get to hear how she was doing, apart from the usual almost-a-teenager grunts in response to  the 'how is it going?' request from me.

So I was pretty chuffed when she trotted in last night with a parents meeting letter. Oh great I get to see how you're doing, excellent. Wasn't quite so thrilled when I discovered that in Big School you have to see each teacher individually. You have a timetable that will be filled in (by Idgy who will organise meeting times for me, bit like having Bubble as your PA - why have I got the art meeting at 6pm then just english at 6.50pm? Thought you might like to have a coffee says she) and you must adhere to it strictly. You cannot see all the teachers just those where you might have some concerns, or those you particularly want to meet. Idgy of course has picked out her best subjects. I of course want to rootle out who she doesn't want me to see.

According to the letter there will be two bells rung at 7.15pm and again at 7.30pm to advise parents to leave the building. I think most will be exhausted by this time just trying to find their way from one room to the other in their alloted time frame.  They will be only too pleased to stagger out into the darkness of a January night. Will we have to adhere to the strict 'one way' policy in the corridors? Should uniform be worn? There is lots of underlining in the letter, lots of stressing and making of points. It seems more suited to a  business transaction than an invitation to meet the teachers.

Oh gone are the days of a nice little note from the local headmistress inviting you in. Gone is the smallness, the closeness.

We're in the big world now. I must pull my socks up and look sharp. Must not shuffle, must look  forward with a clear smile and an open mind.

Oh boy it's so hard being the adult.....

Karon x

The Gift of Love

So Christmas starts with the mulled wine and mince pies on Christmas Eve. Beside the roaring fire with my beautiful glittering tree teetering in the corner with it's slightly nerve wracking (will it/won't it topple) presence.

Carol singing round the village. It is minus 10 degrees. westart with a mottly crew of about 6 of us, but we build in stature as we slip and lide our were around the village streets singing under street lamps.

Father Christmas joins us with a jeep pulling his sleigh. Ah but the driver is wearing ntlers and has a red shing nose due to the cold - he is really Rudolf in human form.

By the end of our tour we are thirty strong and a merry bunch who head for the village hall and more mince pies and mulled wine.

Christmas morning, prezzies, stockings, ribbons and bows. A happy Idgy as she rips and paper and laughs at silly presents from the animals. Gives gifts to them too and we laugh at their antics.

The chursh bells are ringing for morning service as we drive through the village. We are heading for 2 days at Rosemary's. Friendship and festivities.

And this is were we are off to, Jo's house for lunch. not a bad little place is it?

Rosemary and Idgy arriving with the prezzies.

There is a warm welcome awaiting us and a great lunch. It is a good day, a Christmas with new people, a diverse mix of outlooks, ideas and conversations. So different from our usual quiet meal at home. Back to Rosemary's in the evening, relaxing by the fire, tired from too much food, talk and wine.

Boxing Day at Rosemary's means another full Christmas lunch. I am feeling a tad Vicar of Diblyish with all these festive meals. One more whiff of turkey and I shall cluck and gobble and waddle off into a corner and collapse under the weight of it all!

I can't thank Rosemary enough for her wonderful hospitality, her kindness, great food, wine and entertainment- even if she did beat me at Bananagrams on 4 occasions!

All this was lovely, it was a good Christmas. But something happened next which knocked all this into a cocked hat. Blew it all away, made the food, gifts, house, tree, wines, champagnes, company and jokes seem slightly unreal.

You see yesterday when we left Rosemary's in the morning, we drove on to Musselburgh to see Colin and visit Mum.

Now doesn't my darling bro look well now. Isn't he handsom, such a star. He is a changed man, he is fit and well and he has positive plans for 2011.

My mind flits back to a call to me in France in the summer, a heartbreakingly sickening call when he thought he wouldn't see this Christmas, wouldn't survive the illness, wouldn't see this day.

Now look at him and see him smile, he is here, he has passed the doctor's tests, he is smiling both inside and out.

He is a star.

More to come, we visit Mum. She is not in her room, she is in the lounge with the other residents, she is sitting in a pool of sunshine, I take a moment to stare, to marvel.

We all sit together, she opens her gifts and likes the jersey and cardigan, they are good colours, they are pronounced 'ideal'. My heart skips a beat, for it is only a few months since she couldn't bear to see me, I could do nothing right. Whatever I gave her, whatever I said and did was wrong.   I had failed her, I thought I had lost her completely to the ravages of time, the cruelty of age and dementia. I wanted to and did, scream and cry and howl to the moon. I wanted my Mum so very, very much and thought she was gone.

But no, there, right there in that little room I got the biggest, shiniest, bestest Christmas present in the whole damn world - I got my Mum back for Christmas. My old Mum who asked how the animals all were, who quizzed Idgy about her school and friends, who asked about my book and TV work, who wanted to eat chocolate, and who remembered going to see 'White Christmas' on stage in Edinburgh with us two years ago.

My brother and my Mum, all this in one day. If you are a regular reader I think you will know just a little of how much this means to me. I can't help but cry when I think of it and write this, it all means so much, so very, very much.

I'm sobbing and crying as  a release from months of torture and fear. I'm crying tears of joy and tears of releif, I'm letting it all out.

I clutch this to my heart. I tie it in the ribbons and bows of Christmas. This is my memory of Christmas 2010. This is my prezzie, my joy.

THANK YOU!

To Mum and Colin, the merriest, brightest, happiest Christmas and all the love in the world!

Karon x

 

Happy Birthday Dad

 

Happy Birthday Dad,

with all the love in the world,

From your girls xxx

The Chair

 

Take a seat in my garden, my Dad's old chair from their garden in Musselburgh so many years ago. When I was a little girl this was a throne, I would pretend to be a Queen when I climbed up on to it and surveyed my teddies and dolls all sitting on the grass in front of me. It was a fort for my brother, it was a house, a mountain, a pirate ship, oh and maybe just sometimes a chair.

When my Dad died six years ago and Mum sold the house, this chair was what I really, really wanted as a momento from home, from my past, from my childhood. This worn old garden chair takes me right back. Every time I look at it I see Dad and memories of him flood my mind.

See him sitting in this chair, pipe in hand, looking at his pride and joy, his garden, his lawn.

This weekend marks the 6th anniversary of his death and the 90th anniversary of his birth, all within 24 hours. Isn't that amazing. When he was taken into hospital we rushed through to see him. It was Saturday 4th December, it was his birthday.

I sat on his bed, I was the little girl again, I was a teenager, I was a woman, I was a mother, I was a friend. "We should have a glass of wine to celebrate" he said, "Yes Dad, we'll do that soon".  It completely broke my heart when he asked "When, when can we do it, will it be soon?". "Oh yes Dad, it will be soon".

Less than 24 hours later my Dad had died, he died on the very same date that he was born. Wow, how many people can manage to come into this world and go out on the same date.

It always makes the 4th of December a really sad day for me. A day of ghosts and memories, some ghosts come not from happy lands, some memories should be long forgotten and hidden from the light of day.

Seeing the chair with the snow brought back all those memories, I could not disturb the snow and the ghosts, I merely patted a little part of the chair that is free of snow. I touched it with love, and it touched my heart for the thousandth time.

I know this is the 2nd of December and the fourth is not till Saturday. How ironic that this year the 4th of December falls on a Saturday again, just like that day  when he died. I should have saved writing this till Saturday, but I couldn't. I don't think I would be able to write these words, see these images in my mind. Maybe the days and dates will bring closure, I do hope so.

So on Saturday the 4th of December I will raise a glass as I always do on that date, I will see an old man sitting in that wooden chair, we will clink glasses and say "Cheers" just as I promised we would do when we last spoke together on the day he died.

Just an old wooden chair covered in snow. The snow hides the memories ingrained in every inch of the wood. Even with snow all over it, that chair still looks comfortable and safe.

Be comfortable Dad, be safe.....

love Karon x

Shield of love

 

When the whole world is falling down for you,

When those children call you names,

When they throw stones and hurl bad words at you,

Hold fast and call my name.

Imagine I'm in front of you,

I'll shield you from their blows,

I'll take a bullet any day, to save my dearest love.

I'd hold the sky above your head for you,

part clouds and stop the rain,

I'd walk through fire and crawl on glass for you,

to take away this pain.

My darling girl I have been there too,

there were bullies in my past,

I'd give my life to protect you and stop their helllish games.

You're better than they'll ever be,

you are a shining star.

Hold tight and don't give in to tears,

don't allow them any power,

So my love stand strong and tall and know I hold your hand,

I'm here inside your every breath,

I'll never leave my star.

love

Mum x

 

Happy Anniversary

If my Dad were still alive my parents would be celebrating 65 years of marriage today.  What a number, what an achievement. 

This is the first year that Mum hasn't mentioned Dad and their anniversary.  She no longer mentions Dad at all. I think whenI noticed this I finally realised that we'd lost her and that there was no going back.

I remember their 25th wedding anniversary - the Silver Wedding. 1970, the decade that taste forgot. A big party in our local hotel. All their friends and all the family gathered to celebrate the big event. Gifts, so many shiny silvery things. I was ten years old and was dazzled by it all.

At this time in life my brother and I took piano lessons. I should say Colin studied piano and did rather well at it. I proved to be tone deaf and a pain in the ass to the long suffering Mr morris who tought us.  My music books were full of his irate scribblings  instructing me to "practice", "try harder" and  "make an effort". As Colin was rather good at the key tinkling Mr Morris decided it would be a great idea if he played at Mum and Dad's party. Obviously I couldn't play, but hey, why not have me sing!

Now if you know me at all you'll know this is a real no-no of an idea, I can't carry a tune in a bucket far less present it on stage. Anyway it was all deemed a "great idea" and after much practice the great day dawned.

Amid all the glittery silver ribbons and decor, amid the friends and family, amid all the hoopla,  we performed (for want of a better word) my Dad's favourite song "Nobody's Child". The irony that we were both adopted and one of us had always known that they were there just to make up those crutial 'boy and girl'  numbers, meant nothing. It was only years later that this came back to haunt me again and again.

Anyway people survived the performance and I have always  maintained that NEVER would I get a child of mine to perform like that. I cringe if I go to someone's house for supper and they wheel out their kids like performing seals to entertain and impress.  Really don't do it folks, unless you have a budding Barbra Striesand living under the stairs a la Harry Potter, leave this form of entertainment well alone.

Moving on up the years to 1995 and their Golden Anniversary, 50 glorious years together. It was a much  calmer, more restrained and thank God quieter event. Mum, Dad and Colin came through here for the weekend and we went out to a fabulous restaurant for a really special meal.

The photo above was taken in Spain a few years after, actually I think it was in 1999. It shows a bond, a love, a togetherness that they always had. Ok they bickered all the time, which was something I loathed and swore I would never live with. In fact when my own marriage fell into the bickering mode, that's when I knew it was time to call it a day.  But they seemed to thrive on it and had a very happy relationship. They were peas in a pod, they leaned against eachother, one taking up the slack for the other, a good ballancing act.

When Dad died in 2005 my Mum lost her anchor, he strength, her reason for being. When she moved from the big house and all it's memories she lost her direction and everything started to unravel. Every year at this time she would remind us that it was the anniversary, she would smile and shed a few tears. Colin and I would take her out and have a small celebration for her to remember her love. This was always important to her.

This year there was no mention of Dad, of dates of anything. It is now the past, religated to memory land and old journals.

But today I shall bake a cake and Idgy and I will remember just what day it is. I will raise a glass to the happy couple, because Mum is still here even if only in a shell of a body, tiny and crumpled and a shadow of her former self.

Happy Anniversary,

love Karon x

 

 

The red shoes

On Saturday morning I phone Colin to say I'm coming over to visit and to see Mum. "Don't bother, you know what'll happen, you'll only be upset" . He is right of course but I have to go, I have to visit, she is my Mum and even if she doesn't want to see me, I have to see her, have to show I care and that I love her. It is just in there, you can't just let go.

"Okay. if you're coming through, buy her some new slippers she really could do with them". Great something to do, something to clutch on to, rather like a drowning man lurches for a lifebelt, I head off to shopping centre for slipper sustanence.

Slippers, already I have fallen into fantasy land and I am skipping (oh yes skipping a la Michael McIntyre happy skipping) in there clutching the slippers, big smile at the ready and mother thrilled. Birds are singing, colours are bright, bloody hell Karon, any minute now Prince Charming will stride forth clutching the glass slipper and all will be well in the world.

I buy the slippers, rosy red and cozy. They look unwrapped in the photo don't they? You're wrong. They are fully gift wrapped. They are all wrapped up in lashings of love. Delicate tissues of memories, pretty papers of photographs and tied with the bonds of the years, the strings of the heart.

They are my calling card, my Reason To Visit, my key, my entry for today into Mum's world.

Colin can't come with me as he isn't well enough. I go forth alone, armed only with the slippers and chocolate.

"Where's Colin, why isn't he here?", "They'll never fit me". I put her foot into the slipper. She is right, it doesn't fit. Strange, it is a 5-6 her size. "Get Colin to deal with it, he'll get it right". "You're far too thin, no wonder you've got no romance". "Is Idgy allright?"."I'm tired. leave me alone".

Okay I'm upset, but I'm not knocked out. I drive to Tesco in town and exchange the slippers for a different style and larger size. Back again to the care home. Mum has eated the chocolate by now, so at least I did something right. "Let's try these " I coax. I lift her old feet and try to put on the slippers. they still don't fit. I can't beleive it. "Can't you get anything right". Oh Mum you don't need to say that, I am berating myself by the minute here.

Drive back to Tesco again and get another pair of bloody slippers. Now these are a size 8. I take a size 8 and I am a 5 foot 8 1/2 inch tall Amazonian bordering on being an Avatar in size, these must fit someone who has size 5 feet.

Back to the care home clutching my trusty shoe bag. On knees again and trying to slip her feet inside. No, jammed again, they don't fit. As I am already down on my knees I utter a prayer in my tear sodden state, "Oh God help me please".

One of the staff meets me on the stairs. "You're not back again with those slippers are you?". I tell her my sorry tale, she pats my shoulder and offers a seat. "give me the shoes pet, let me try". She goes away clutching the saga sodden slippers . Meanwhile the manageress chats and tells me Mum's news. Nothing much to report really, the situation deteriorates she goes more into her world. Still happy to see her friends once a week, those stalwards who come every week regardless of their welcome, still wants my brother around. 

The nurse is back." Those slippers are fine, bit big really, but they'll do just nicely". I sit stunned, how did she do it?  "Your Mum just didn't want them to fit, she bunched up her toes and there was no way you would ever get her foot into any slipper.  I just straightened her foot and pulled on the slipper" she said. "Oh I'm used to these old people and their tricky ways".

This made me cry all the more, as ever I stumble from the place and head off home. All in all 3 hours driving, 3 pairs of slippers, getting stopped 17 times at traffic lights in one small town. Stress and tears (I'm quite sure the person who commented on my blog the other day re my mindfulness post, would say this serves me right) my usual combination.

Saturday night and it is curl up by fire with a good companion named Chardonnay. Now is not the time to hold on to anything at all. Thoughts and emotions,  let it go, watch it all bounce and spin out of control. Don't even try to stop, let it rip. Tell the child within that days are gone, see the past fly away, lose contact, let it go.

So easy to say, not easy to do. I can't stop the love. It is there and no matter what she says or does, I will love her forever. I will keep trying, never give up. The red shoes, whatever next.......

Karon x

Child support

Hi guys, yet again problems with wordpress. Not only do I not have ability to upload photos, now none of your comments come through to me.

It was sheer joy this morning to click into this blog ready to write and wheehee, there were your lovely comments. Usually they would come through to me by email, but seems that service has gone by the wayside. Anyway you guys have made my day with all your wonderful words of support for Idgy.

She had to spend yesterday afternoon at the orthodontists getting measured up for teeth braces. We've known this was on the cards for years, now it will actually be happening within a matter of months. My gal is brave about the two teeth she'll have to have extracted and actually looks forward to the braces and wants glow in the dark or coloured types.

How I wish we'd had these options when I was a kid. How I wish I'd had braces and hadn't been a thumb sucker. Oh the years of squinty teeth I have endured and of course the costs of having them all crowned and veneered now to get that straight smile. Oh yes I am keen for Idgy to have good teeth and we've always talked about how most American kids wear braces as 'normal' and have fab teeth. Idgy has grown up with this as the idea of what will happen, now she just thinks, "at last, getting it done, bring it on".

Oh yes I know this will be yet more  ammunition for those nasty little faux friends up the road, we will stay strong, she will have the lovely smile at the end of it all.

I will not be inflicting you with this photoless, comment shirking blog for much longer. Bear with me for a few days more and all should be ok.

PS  Isn't this wonderful about the miners in Chile being brought up to daylight at last - so emotional, so joyful, just great.

Karon x

Child wars

Still having problems re uploading photographs here. In fact wordpress has been a bit of a mess allround. Bear with me, we're working on it and normal service will be resumed as soon as is humanly possible.

It is the school Autumn holidays here. always a strange one i feel, we never had a week off at this time of year. Only seems a few weeks ago when the schools went back after the long summer break. Moan, moan, moan. i am obviously getting old when I feel like this. Any minute now and I'll be spouting forth that doctors and policemen are all getting younger by the day, and whatever is this world coming to........

Anyway, school holidays.  Playing, friends, friendships, gangs, clubs, arguments, fights, heartbreak, sad child.

Sometimes you want to go out there and lash out like a mad monster to protect your child, your friend. When they come and cajole with their faux friendships and give her a smile, she is so thrilled she leaps at the company. Thrills to the camaraderie of their new found club status. Our shed is perfect as a clubhouse so suddenly we are a magnet for a gang of kids. But oh the sadness when within a few days they are laughing at her animal and imaginary world, her secret places and houses in the trees. They kick over her fairy cook stove and grind dirt into the carpets in the clubhouse.

Why oh why? Children are the cruelest of creatures. Could they not have kept their little gang away, just up the lane where they belong, why did they do this to her. I have a sad and lonely little girl here, quietly rebuilding her little stone walls of fairy cook stoves. Carefully rebuilding her stories in her mind.

I don't want to be a calm adult at times like this. I want to  make them feel the pain they have bestowed on the one I love. I want their dreams shattered, their favourite places violated and ruined.

Yes, a mad mother, a lioness guarding her cub. Don't worry I won't go banging on doors, sending in the child catcher and shooting minors. Tempting though that all is. No, I shall comfort the one who built the fairy cook stove, will help take down the fairy lights, haul out the old furniture, take down the pictures and clear out the clubhouse and turn it back into a shed.

Then maybe we'll bake a cake.

Karon x

School ' s Out

School holidays this week.  Wet weather on the cards and wellies on the feet.

Idgy and her dad planning trips away,  Aviemore and adventure centres, animal parks and a polar bear.

Meanwhile back at the ranch, it's sewing for Christmas, onwards, ever onwards.....

Karon x

Mum Words and You

Nurturing, feeding, caring and supporting. All the words that go so well with another word - Mother, Mum, Mom, whichever one you choose.

I've been so touched by your lovely comments whenever I've mentioned my Mum in my posts.  It is difficult to deal with dementia in any form, it is something of  a stealth  illness. It creeps up on your loved one and steals them away from you a bit at a time.

Normality is no more. What was real has disapeared.  Glimpses of   the  beloved are few and far between. It is like looking into a dusty and smeary window, one tucked into a corner and covered in cobwebs. You can't see through clearly, you make out shapes, you get mere glimpses of life, people and love.

Cherry made a good comment on how a mother can turn on a daughter. My friend Colette said the same. Seems I have taken the role of whipping boy just now, that's fine. Well no, it's not fine at all, but it is something I just have to go with, it is there and it's how things are.

Patti, you worried that just now your Mum might be at the best she is likely to be and things will get worse.  Go along with that one, don't keep hoping for something better. Make the best of how she is right this minute . I have so many regrets that I didn't grasp moments and conversations and just smiles over the past year. I feel I let them slip by, did not capture everything before it was all too late.

Nurturing, supporting, loving, caring - all the words that go with another word,  daughter. The roles reversed, the tables turned.

For all the friends who have commented and sent emails. Thanks so much. It really means a lot to be bolstered up by your love and kindness.

Life goes on.

Karon x

Fading Away

How  does one say goodbye? I've always been hopeless at the goodbye scene. I get emotional and cry. I cry for the loss of the company of the person, the friend, the loved one.

Some people can remain detached, oh maybe they hurt inside, but they can put up a good front. Some of course do feel no pain, they can close off emotions and break ties with an ease  that many would find frightening.

I've been 'saying goodbye' for over a year now. My Mum's dementia leaves her a shell of the woman she once was. She is no longer really 'there' and so it is not Mum in the real sense that I go and visit. Instead I find myself sitting with an almost stranger. But a stranger with a hurtful incisiveness that can cut back to the past in an instant and cut like a knife in the now.

Mum has been moved from the hospital to a small nursing  home where there are less patients and more staff. More homely I guess, there is less the feeling of  "One flew over the cuckoos nest" and imaginings of a huge calm American Indian lifting a fridge and throwing it through the windows to freedom.

What use freedom when there is nothing there to escape from, when your inner self is lost to the world you do not know. You cannot escape your own failing body and mind.

I wish (oh how I wish) I could report that Mum was thrilled to see me this weekend. Alas no, I am beginning to feel like Kathy Bates in "Fried Green Tomatoes at the Whistle stop Cafe" when Aunt Vesta regularly throws her out when she visits the nursing home clutching flowers and cakes.

This time I lasted all of three minutes. "Go away, I don't want to see you, I'm tired". Colin tries to smooth waters, unruffle any feathers. But no,  she asks after him, when will he be back, what is he doing.

Fading away, getting smaller and smaller and going into the distance that time creates all around us. Was it worth three hours of driving for three minutes of her time and now day three of tears at the loss? Yes, it was. It was worth all the time and heartbreak, the ongoing gut wrenching, tear sodden mess that I find myself in. This is  grief, this is grieving for an ongoing death. It is waiting for the line to be drawn, the end to come eventually.

Looking at shadows, looking at a fragment of the past, or was it imagination. Looking and waiting for words of hope, none will come. Waiting for time to draw the inevitable line.........

Karon x

Slipping through my fingers

 

Schoolbag in hand, she leaves home in the early morning
Waving goodbye with an absent-minded smile
I watch her go with a surge of that well-known sadness
And I have to sit down for a while
The feeling that I'm losing her forever
And without really entering her world
I'm glad whenever I can share her laughter
That funny little girl

Slipping through my fingers all the time
I try to capture every minute
The feeling in it
Slipping through my fingers all the time
Do I really see what's in her mind
Each time I think I'm close to knowing
She keeps on growing
Slipping through my fingers all the time

Sleep in our eyes, her and me at the breakfast table
Barely awake, I let precious time go by
Then when she's gone there's that odd melancholy feeling
And a sense of guilt I can't deny
What happened to the wonderful adventures
The places I had planned for us to go
(Slipping through my fingers all the time)
Well, some of that we did but most we didn't
And why I just don't know

Slipping through my fingers all the time
I try to capture every minute
The feeling in it
Slipping through my fingers all the time
Do I really see what's in her mind
Each time I think I'm close to knowing
She keeps on growing
Slipping through my fingers all the time

Sometimes I wish that I could freeze the picture
And save it from the funny tricks of time
Slipping through my fingers

Slipping through my fingers all the time

Schoolbag in hand she leaves home in the early morning

Waving goodbye with an absent-minded smile

The wonderful words of Abba, they say it all. First day of 'big' school, high school, senior school, whatever you want to call it. A sneaked photo this morning as she is making her breakfast. I remember her first day at the village school all those years ago, a brave little girl with her bright red school bag and her hair in plaits. See now this lovely girl, growing up, growing away.

I have to sit down for a while.

Karon x

Le weekend

Thank you everyone for all your lovely comments and good wishes for Colin's birthday. Here is the birthday boy himself taken on Saturday evening.

We had a good day my brother and I. We went to the local pub where many an hour had been passed over the years. We did the traditional thing - 'put the world to rights', talked the hind leg off a donkey, all that sort of stuff. Back to his place for food and wine and watched the seriously funny Rikki Fulton dvd of The Reverend I.M.Jolly and friends. If you were not lucky enough to be brought up in Scotland during late 70s and 80s you might just have missed out on the great Mr Fulton and this amazingly funny Reverend who used to come on TV at New Year as a gentle mocking of the late call programme that was on television at the time.

We couldn't have thought of a better way to end our day of reminiscences and laughs. We were together, we were the kids who had stayed up late to watch that tv show all those years ago, it was like a bolt from the past. the strange thing was, we had popped into a charity shop en route to the pub and found this dvd for a couple of pounds.

We parted with hugs and smiles, and of course tears on my part, cause that's just me really.

I move on to see my friend Madge. This is a VERY special lady indeed. Madge used to live next door to me when I grew up. She had two daughters who were just a year of so younger than me. While I was friends with the girls, Madge was my hero. Madge was my Mum really in many respects. She was rock of my teenage years, the one I went to for help, advice, friendship and laughs. She was always there for me whatever happened, and that love has never faded over all the years. We are still as close as ever and catch up where we left off whenever we see each other.

Well this time I had the whole night at Madge's, I had a sleepover just like Idgy and her friends were doing over in Ayrshire. It was the most perfect night of catch up. Even the early start in the morning, gotta get up at 7.30am to have an hour and a half more chat before driving back to collect Idgy from her party.

Drive home in the brightening sunshine, and yes I did have to stop at Tesco to buy bacon and rolls etc, for only some things help a well-worth-the-effort hangover - a bacon roll and a mug of tea!

Karon x

Sending Sunshine

Darling Colin,

Look in the middle of the picture and see the bright yellow. All those sunflowers, all that sunshine, all that happiness and hope.

Go closer to the blooms. No namby pamby girly flowers these, no they are massive, strong and strident, all powerful and good.

They stand tall and they follow the sun. Keeping heads up and facing the life giving orb in the sky.

I think of you when I look at them. I wish you could see them too. Maybe, just maybe their images of sunshine and hope can virually reach you and hold you close.

Things are worse I know, more mess, more tests, never ending waiting. Each call seems to bring forth more sadness, please don't joke about the troops coming home for Christmas, I can't bear the thought of losing you.

So grab a big bunch of yellow sunshine, anything yellow will do and imagine you are here with the sunflowers, I wish you were.

There is no perfection in paradise.

All my love,

Karon x

Medal moments

Medals are given for all manner of achievements. From bravery in war time, to olympic gold, school swimming medals and team awards. You don't just 'get' a medal, it is something you must work for, it is a goal, an achievement, something special, a landmark however small in the map of your lifetime.

I fairly burst with pride last night when Idgy got a team medal for coming second place in the Ayrshire interschools quiz.All the Ayrshire primary schools select a team of 5 children from their primary 7 class to compete for the prize each year. She had been so chuffed to be picked for the team, had swotted up on her general knowledge and even had a go at answering sporty stuff (don't bother, leave that to the boys!), she was ready.

Last night was The big Event. Was she nervous, yes, did she show it, no. She did answer her questions, she did beam with pride, and she hasn't taken her medal off since....

Big moment, big smiles.

Karon x

Family visits

A whirlwind weekend, two days of happenings, sad, touching, funny, heartbreaking and constructive. All at once, a mixture like cake batter; throwing everything in, stirring around and hoping for the best.

We went to see Colin on Saturday. He is hugely improved, and as ever has that Spin Doctor mentality that will find the positive in any worse case scenario. He sees the funny side and talks of the personal problems created by his operation as if he is Eddie Izzard facing an audience. He is witty and erudite, he sees the good and he deals with the bad. He is an inspiration and I am very lucky to have him. He inspires me, gives me confidence, takes me along on his fantasies and makes me smile.

Move on to visiting Mother. She has changed so so much in the two months I haven't been able to visit her. Her eyes are dead and shark like. She uses them to look for flaws, for subterfuge and lies. I do not recognise her in this ungracious shell.

She is obsessed with thinking that the hospital will be sending her to Roslyn Lee. Now Roslyn Lee is a mental hospital outside Edinburgh, way back in the mists of time when Colin and I were just kids, the words Roslyn Lee were used as a threat - bad children could be sent there, a fearful place of demons and madness. It seems now that Mum has taken those threats of bygone years and turned them on herself. She is living as that fearful child and the threat is everywhere.

Well as you can imagine I did the only thing possible and burst womanfully into tears within minutes of seeing her and being accused point blank that I am sending her to this place. My tears reinforce her determination that she is right,  and I (and everyone else) am lying. I find a doctor and check all her notes, he assures me that there is no way she is going to Roslyn Lee and that they are waiting for a place for her in a small home in Musselburgh. Doctor comes with me to talk to mum. She looks from him to me, she says we are both lying. The dead shark like eyes show no softness,no response, they are focused inwards on a terrible torment that nobody can clear.

Gut wrenching, heart breaking, a living grief for someone you love who has already gone but still there in a format far removed from themselves, your past, your memories. Mum it's me, I'm here with your grand daughter, isn't she fabulous, she's 12 and gorgeous. See us Mum, let us in.

No answer to our pleas, we are all crying when we leave, but she turns away and says she is going to face 'it' with dignity and she will not cry.

I cry enough for us both. Dignity, who needs it.

Karon x

Birthday snaps

Promise to stop with the birthday stuff after this one. Just had to show you a few photos from the Big Day itself.

My girl is not too old to climb on her Mum's bed to open her prezzies and Birthday Badger bag.

She can even do it in colour!

Someone else loves birthdays too, well any day that involves lots of crackly paper to play with, and the possibility of some sweets and cake.

Meanwhile back at the ranch kitchen, I am beavering away making the birthday cakes. Our girl made a clear choice for a stack of marbled cup cakes instead of the usual birthday cake. No pressure there then!

The cake in action, much oohing and aahing.

All in all the birthday tea went really well. Adults and cosmopolitans at one table, kids making disgusting drinks from sauce packets at their own table.

Although we went to see Prince Of Persia (seriously action packed, I was knackered just watching it), the girls couldn't resist posing by this giant Marmaduke promotion in the foyer. Had to fight off several little boys to get this photo.

The kids loved the film and thoroughly enjoyed being in the back row so they could have a popcorn firght and tie eachothers shoes together. I fairly scuttled from the cinema as the lights came up and the battle ground of popcorn and sweets  hove into view.

 

So there she is, my birthday girl. Her day made even more special when she got home to a phone call from France from friends and animals all wishing her the best.

The best is what she deserves.

Karon x

PS  Huge THANK YOU for all your birthday wishes for Idgy yesterday, she was really chuffed to know you guys were thinking of her on her special day.

PS

Her big day and all my memories

The big day dawns. 6am and it's prezzies on the bed and The Birthday Badger bag spills it's treats. My girl loves her goodies, the silly toys, the fun gifts, the books and T shirt.

Memories hit me between the eyes, making them water, making me remember.

Time has flown by. What happened, where did it go?

My little girl and her old grannie. The generation gap, non existent between loving hearts.

My girl and her animals, he furry friends who mean so much.

So at home with nature. Finding beauty everywhere and watching with the keenest interest and an amazing imagination. 

Sometimes the victor, triumphant  and joyous!

 

With the ability to be alone, to enjoy her own world and share her dreams.

A calm delight, patience and sheer heartbreaking beauty.

Tawanda the wild child!

Fearless in the face of a shark (albeit a very small one).

 

A budding thesp? hmmm maybe not, but definitely an Abba fan,

A rider of wild and fantastic horses, as long as they stay on the carousel.

The bestest friend a ferret could wish for.

The colourful clown who can always make me laugh.

 

A friend, a pal.

No matter your age, you will always be my little girl, my best friend, my strength, my meaning, my life.

happy Birthday Imogen

I love you

Mum x

Smiley coffee and the Birthday Badger

Pete has been practicing with those coffee pictures again. What a lovely way to start a day of rushing around chores - a smiley cup of cappuccino, perfect!

As you know it is Idgy's birthday tomorrow, of yes we are on countdown round these parts. Only one more sleep to go now.

I think I told you last year about The Birthday Badger who bumbles round the countryside giving children prezzies on their own special day. Well since Santa only pops round at Christmas I had to come up with someone who would deliver prezzies on birthdays, hence the Birthday Badger.

We usually have the Badger Box where a mish-mash of goodies are all grouped together in one box. Well this year I am being considerate of the Badger's knackered old body and supplying a Badger Bag instead of the usual box. Very cunning, bag is part of prezzie. Amazing how much loot you can stuff in a girly satchel; book (dragons of course), CD (Lady GaGa), bath stuff, sweets, pair of shorts, T shirt, Hello  Kitty bits and bobs, Littlest Pet Shop characters, beads, a real hodge podge, a mix of little girl toys and bigger girl music - enjoy the little girl, love her, cherish her, hold her close, it is not for long.

So that is the Birthday Badger organised. Cinema and restaurant to be booked this morning. What else, finish off the sweetie jars (I'm doing jam jars filled with lots of different penny candy type sweets straight from old fashioned sweet shop. Just have to decorate the jars with ribbons and hang tags etc) that are the party gifts, oh yes first thing tomorrow morning bake the cup cakes. No boring birthday cake for my gal, no, each person gets a cup cake with a candle on top. Isn't it lucky there are the right number of cakes to people to birthday age to cake stand.

So, almost organised, almost there.

Tomorrow is the big day.

Karon x

BIRTHDAY WISHES

Today is a Big Day, it is a Special Day, it is Mum's 90th birthday.

How many people reach that grand old age, more than in the past. But still it is 'A great age, aren't you lucky'. I think not. 

 

Your birthday in Spring, always flowers and blossom. We always picked you flowers from the garden. Last year a bucket full of daffodils we brought to you, golden flowers for a sunny lady.

So let me take you through this year, a year you will not see as you did before. Your view restricted by fading eyes, solid walls, caring nurses and a society that keeps you where you no longer have any wish to be.

 

By summer poppies and gardens groaning under the weight of their beauty and scent.

 

The scent of summer, dizzy with bees, heavy with pollen, aching with loss.
 
 

Blue skies high, wide, going on forever. Drift off into that blue, feel its lightness, it's depth, it's calm serenity, it's lulling softness. No need for tired old legs to struggle to walk, the blue will support, hold firm and yield. Drift onwards
 

Drift onwards to foreign summer, France in her beauty awaits with open arms.

 

and hot coffee at pavement cafes, where we people watch and chat the world to rights.  So many words to fill the air, the air warm, comforting and perfect.

 

Tempted to eat at last, beautiful cakes will make you want to enjoy food again at last. Taste, feel, smell, see food as friend and not as fearful sustenance.

Pink wine for the pink lady. Soft colour, soft feelings. Raise a glass not a plastic beaker and straw. You deserve the crystal you used to use, where is the glittering, sparkling you of the past. Crystal is fragile, it breaks so easily.
 

See hidden places in mountains you no longer have to climb. Look on history, look back on your own. Your husband long gone. Your own words 'He was lucky he went as he had wanted, no fuss, no bother, no trouble, no indignity, no drama'. He is lost.

See your grand daughter playing in the sand. Think back to all those summers over all those years. Holidays in Spain, France, Switzerland and Italy. Sunshine and beaches, mountains and sea. All happy in that rose tinted way that time so kindly provides. Memories of family of fun. 

 

Autumn in Scotland, brambles on hedges, cold winds, driving rain. The fruits of the summer ripen, then rot. The slow death of the year before.

 

Winter's chill, the slowness of breath. Deep freeze, lie frozen, life beneath a layer of protective frost. A frost that may come over as chilly rebuff to all and me most of all. I hope with all my heart that there is still softness within, under the winter's coat of sharp and brittle ice. Ice that protects the tender old heart from being hurt any more by the wounds of life. 

That bunch of daffodils, faded, old, fragile and soft. Their petals folding over upon themselves, turning in upon the heart. Covering and protecting from any more harm. Slowly, slowly fading away.

They always tell you 'Many happy returns', that you should come back again and again celebrating more of the same. More years, more birthdays, more time.

I shall not say that this year, for I know you do not wish any more returns to this life. What life you have in hellish place you would never want to visit. Locks on doors and vacant stares. Time passes slowly when you are there. I am doing what I can to help you escape. No cunning plan, just calls to everyone I can think of, each department, each manager, each hope for your reprieve. I wish for you to escape that hellish place that surrounds you now, I wish for you to end your days in harmony and pleasure, in gentle surroundings with soft reminiscences with your friends, where you would prefer to be. Mum I'm doing my best.

Happy Birthday.

Karon x

THE BIG DAY

Happy Birthday to me, happy Birthday to me, Happy Birthday dear m-e-e-e-e, Happy Birthday to me!

Yep, that's it the big Five Oh. Scary as it is, it is now here. There is no escape from it, I am now officially 'old'.

The official 'Night Out' will be next Friday, when the four musketeers set forth for a  fab meal in Glasgow. Today it is lunch in Glasgow with my lovely friend Rosemary, and possibly just a wee tad of retail therapy. Tonight it is supper round here and on Sunday a visit to Mum and Colin. Food, food, food, food, food.

Of course as this is such a Big birthday, the calories will magically disappear from all yummy foodstuffs and it is a well known fact that any glass raised in celebration holds no calories! 

It is now 7.30am and Idgy has just come down, lookeee, lookeee what I got from my darling girl. Champers and ski lessons! Don't you love her note. Wow, I am all of a tingle.

So here I am, 50 years old, I am sitting at my kitchen table with my bestest friend in the whole world and I am smiling.

Happy Birthday me.

Karon x

THE ROSE WRECKER

What a pretty flower. Okay so the white paint splattered all over makes it a tad different, but hey, a pretty flower all the same.

It is not a pretty flower now and (yet again) I am not proud of myself. I am a rose wrecker, a hateful person who could kick a simple rose bush in a fit of temper/stress/frustration. The poor little rose bush is no more.

It is time really. Time seems to be running away from me and nothing is happening. at least none of the things I had hoped to happen. There is that frightening feeling of everything slipping through my fingers, like sand on a beach. There is the feeling of straw, lots of straw, and a struggling camel underneith who is terrified that the last straw will break its aching back. Am I melodramatic? Yes of course, so why change the habbits of a lifetime.

There are the big things, those nasties you can do nothing about, you just learn to accept. Poor old Mum falls into this sorry catagory. I know I can do nothing to ease her situation or to help, she is in the best place, she is cared for. She is not happy, and in true role reversal style I want to play the Mum and make her happy and I can't. Enough of the big stuff you'd think, but no, oh no. That sneaky evil fairy of fate flutters into view bringing worry and stress for another loved one. When someone has been so damn good, so damn caring in looking after Mum for all those months until  she moved into the care home. When they have done everything for someone else, it is just not bloody fair that now they should be pulled down by illness, drained of strength and made to suffer the indignity of horribly intrusive tests. Colin has better manners than me. He is taking this well, he is being brave, he is taking it on the chin.

I'm not, I'm kicking the bloody rose bush.

Karon x

PS  Big thanks to Jennifer Neumann for nominating me for a BEST BLOG award. I truly don't deserve it.

DANCING QUEEN

Ah the thistle, symbol of Scotland, as is dear Mr Burns who's big night it is this evening. Something else synonymous with our fair nation is Scottish Country Dancing.

This 'sport' for want of a better word, has entered our little household. Idgy is not a natural Highland Dancer. I blame myself for this. She has obviously inherited my 'can't do' gene on that front.

Take me to any event that boasts any form of formation dancing and I will prove my worth as a reel wrecker time and again. I must have a little brain cell missing, the one that reminds you which person you are meant to dance with and which way you are meant  to be going.

This isn't something new, I've has this innate ability to reel wreak since I was at school. Many is the time that dear Miss Gibb would fix me with her steely glare, point dramatically towards the far corner of the gym hall and demand that I and my co-giggler should 'leave the floor until we felt we could concentrate and 'take this seriously'. Giggling, a heinous crime, we were ousted.

Poor Idgy has inherited my shoddy dancing  and giggling inefficiencies.

So it was with something akin to shock that I opened the door to Mrs Kipsley the other day. Mrs Kipsley is the local Scottish Country Dance teacher and extreme enthusiast. She runs classes for all ages and has been co-opted into the village school to inflict the Gay Gordons and sword dances on unsuspecting (and giggling) children. I have never had much to do with this good lady as Idgy has never been a 'chosen one' in the dancing department.

Poor Mrs K had a problem and wondered if Idgy could help. Apparently her team of junior dancers are booked to compete at a competition in Ayr in March. Well one of her girls had just had the audacity to inform her that a relative was getting married that very day and as she would be 'down the front of the church in a pink dress holding the flowers', this was a crushing blow for Mrs K, but never a woman to be held back for long she was seeking out a new victim.

Enter Imogen, all long hair, long legs and cheerful disposition. Oh and no dancing ability whatsoever, did I mention that?

Would Idgy be prepared to join the team and enter the competition? Lets remember that her team have been coached by her for years and know their stuff, Idgy has of course bounded about the gym hall and proved herself to be my daughter in the dancing stakes. Anyway my redoubtable girl said yes (for some obscure reason best known to herself), so now here was Mrs K to give me a list of practice dates and ludicrous times. These included Saturday mornings at 8am!

Saturday morning dawned and Idgy was prised from her pit of slumber, stuffed into a skirt - good grief, a skirt! and packed off to dance her socks off.

'How was it?'  I asked a couple of hours later when I went to collect her from the village hall. 'Oh fine, but everyone else kept going the wrong way'.

That's my girl!

Karon x

PS - I made Nan's cabbage soup (without the Liptons soup mix as I don't know what that is', mine was just all the veg plus tinned toms and tom juice and a stock cube. Fabulous, tasted great and is really filling. I'm going to have this as my lunch each day to see how it goes.

BACK TO SCHOOL

Yesterday I went back to school. There was a 'What are we learning' hour in the village school, where all of us aged parents could come along and hang around in a slightly embarrassed group at the back of the classroom watching our little darlings being educated.

It was very educational on many levels. Of course watching the kids working out mathematical problems with imaginary logs and garden space was interesting and the most important part of the exercise. It is amazing how we forget how it is that we come up squared metres etc, so may years of calculators have taken any thought out of maths.

Anyway, the children worked in pairs with boxes of plastic sticks to represent the aforementioned logs, and amid much giggling about parents being there and overly enthusiastic hand waving to answer questions, they all worked well.

It was the parents that I found enlightening. One mother had turned up in a skirt so short it barely covered her bottom, more of a text message than a skirt. Why on earth do women think that opaque black tights make everything okay. Suddenly they will have legs like Kate Moss and drop 20 years. One dad (yes there were three of them there) got a case of the nervous giggles and was making the most inappropriate comments. He was on the receiving end of some very sharp looks from the teacher, but as with most boys who think they are being very entertaining to the girlies, he carried on regardless. But the best was the lady who walked calmly into the classroom, blew a big kiss to her thoroughly embarrassed son and then sauntered out again. As the Americans would say, go figure!

Anyway I lasted the hour and was glad I had gone along. It took me right back to the classrooms of my youth. Okay so this school has a modern touch screen board as well as the more conventional blackboard, and boys (yes didn't have any of those in my class) to giggle with. But the colourful pictures on the walls, spelling charts and projects laid out on tables, all transported me straight back in time. It was great to see Idgy in her day to day element, like being part of a fly on the wall documentary.

The bell rang and we big people were excused. Back to reality, back to the big world.

Karon x

PS My good friend Nan in America shared the famous cabbage soup recipe with me. While I certainly don't advocate the strict soup only  regime, I do think soup is a great weight loss meal especially for lunch. I'm going to give this one a go.

Cabbage Soup Recipe

• 6 large green onions
• 2 green peppers
• 1 or 2 cans of tomatoes (diced or whole)
• 3 Carrots
• 6 to 8 Mushrooms
• 1 bunch of celery
• half a head of cabbage, any kind
• 1 package Lipton soup mix 
• 1 or 2 cubes of bouillon (optional)
• 1 48oz can V8 juice or Tomato juice (optional)
• Season to taste with salt, pepper, parsley, curry, garlic powder, etc.

Directions:
Slice green onions, put in a pot and start to saute with cooking spray.
Cut green pepper stem end off and cut in half, take the seeds and membrane out. Cut the green-pepper into bite size pieces and add to pot.
Take the outer leafs layers off the cabbage, cut into bite size pieces, add to pot.
Clean carrots, cut into bite size pieces, and add to pot.
Slice mushrooms into thick slices, add to pot.
If you would like a spicy soup, add a small amount of curry or cayenne pepper now.
You can use beef or chicken bouillon cubes for seasonings. These have all the salt and flavors you will need.
Use about 12 cups of water (or 8 cups and the V8 juice), cover and put heat on low. Let soup cook for a long time - two hours works well. Season to taste with salt and pepper.

LET THE GAMES BEGIN

You might remember that one of my grouches (who me, a grouch, perish the thought!!) about my constant sewing for work, was that I just didn't have the time to do simple things with Idgy in the evenings.

Where were those hours in front of the fire battling it out on the Monopoly board, cheating at cards and showing ourselves up on the spelling front in Scrabble. I have spent so long with my head down looking at sewing and never being part of Idgy's evenings, it is time for a change. For months I have promised that I will free up the evenings and let loose the games.Well on Sunday night we started! At long last. My daughter taught me how to play a board game called Gambit and then beat me fair and square five times in a row. The gauntlet was down, Mummy cannot be beaten so thoroughly and not fight back. The cupboard is raided, the games are all dragged out. We try Junior Monopoly (had of course forgotten just how mind numbingly boring this game can get) and guess what, yes, I am trounced again!

Last night she decided to show me up on the Origami front. Oh joy, I thought,  just what I want, a night of fighting with paper and mucho frustration. Armed with a glass of good red I dive into the sea of paper and horribly complicated instructions.Quell surprise, I am a natural! Who'd have thunk it. I can fold paper and make strange little things like a water bomb, G I's hat, frog and somewhat dodgy boat. Idgy is furious, she has not yet found her feet in this field of Origami, I am not meant to hit the ground running and bound ahead.

Before any of you think that I am a paragon of paper prowess and a bit of a mummy monster for beating Idgy at the game, let me show you the failed origami picture. I screwed up and built up more paper for fire lighting in one hour than I can use in a week.
It is lovely to spend time like this. I have missed this for so long. The business has always been so all-consuming and a time bandit of the worst kind. Every year I have promised that I would sort out my time, make more time for Idgy and do more together. This is my start, the games have begun................

Karon x

JUST SMILE

I was looking in my blog file for a suitable photo for this morning couldn't resist this one, at least it is Christmassy.

Isn't this the loveliest old Christmas card? I bought it, plus the rich red fabric in the background and the rosary, when I was over in France in October and attended a Vide Granier (literally translates as 'empty attic' and is like a car boot sale but all on tables. Great fun.

Now what have I been up to over the weekend. On Saturday I visited Mum and was rewarded with something really, really special - a smile.

This is the first time I have  seem Mum smile since we went out for a belated Christmas lunch back in January. a long time to lose your smile.

Something we don't think about, smiling. It is something we do so naturally. It can be fleeting, flirty, manic, gleeful, cheeky, sexy or silly but it speaks volumns whatever style it is.

It took me quite some time to realise what it was that was missing with Mum. Oh I know there has been so much illness and heartbreak for her of late, and that is written on her face, but you don't actually realise that it is that simple clear smile that is missing, until you see it again.

My brother and I sat chatting to her in her room at the care home. She wanted to know what we were doing for Christmas and who was buying what prezzies etc. Of course being Mum she was  worried that she couldn't get out to buy us things as in previous years.  She wanted me to take off her necklace to give to Idgy. I couldn't do it, it was too horribly final. When Colin left I told her about the silly present I had bought to give him. Mum burst out laughing and smiled.Now that is the best Christmas present she could give me, that smile.

Karon x

PIRATES, PUMPKINS AND PIES

Yesterday the school children went to school all dressed up for halloween. Idgy of course chose to go as a pirate in honour of the lovely Mr Depp.

We were a bit frugal in the parrot department, so made do with a ferret instead.

You really can't get the staff these days.......

Mr Depp's stand in awaits her ship/school bus.

We did the whole pumpkin thing when she came home. I think this is a rather jolly chap, very much a friendly sort.

 

He is as friendly and

smiley as his creator.

Last night we dined on homemade pumpkin pie. This was a first for me and it came out really well. I'm going to visit Mum today so I shall take her some pumpkin pie wrapped up in a gingham napkin. I'm also taking in a patchwork quilt, 2 of my cushions that i make, a sleep sack, various hearts and pictures, yes, lots of pictures to make her new home a home.

Have a lovely Halloween wherever you are. Don't let those ghosties get you!

Karon x

THELMA AND LOUISE, ALL IN MY MIND

It is early morning and the mist lies in the valley. The village rises above like something from a fairy tail. All is calm, all is still, all is beautiful.

We will walk around such villages and towns and partake of their charm and drink in their gentle lifestyles. We will of course have coffee at a pavement cafe and chat about the things we see.

You will laugh at my obsession with shutters and how I imagine the lives that flow behind the painted wood facade.

I will accept the teasing and point out the tiny lady that holds the shutters open to let in the light. only in France would such attention to detail be a commonplace.

We  walk on and I proudly point out Coups de Soliel, a delightful shop that sells my Leviche de Landes soaps and salts.

You will love the Autumnal window display and we will go in and wander round. You will pick up pretty pottery and old fashioned glasswear. You'll remind me that 'we used to use things like that', I'll smile.

We'll step through a doorway and into another world. The cool of the cloisters tucked away behind the town square in st Sever. The scent of the flowers hangs in the air and we marvel at the architecture, the flowers and the calm.

We admire paintings and you remind me that you still have my first painting efforts from school days long gone.

We look at menus at lunch time and choose the cafe to sit at and take in the Autumn sunshine.

We enjoy the feast of flavours in a simple repast.

 Our little tourist trail takes us from the beauty and peace of the churches and their sculptural granduer and statues of grace.

To mad modern shop displays, jarring on the eye but captivating none the less.

We go to the other extreme with a visit to a brocante and I indulge in my passion for old things. 'Junk' you laugh and point out that you have used these things all your life and always yearned for new things.

We visit thermal springs and giggle at the lions spouting their hot water and steam. They look as if they have beards of verdigris.

I point out doorways and door handles and you tell me I have too much imagination when I talk of lives within.

Door handles don't look like that at home you say.

 

This door takes us both by surprise, there is no imagination required to see the lives within. Artistry on your doorstep in the true sense of the word.

We look up and you spot this black and white cat in a window. 'Oh it's Clawed' you say. We both look up and remember our old feline friend from many years ago. We are transported back in time and to another place, home.

All of this is of course in my imagination. I didn't really take you to France and to see all these simple delights last week, but oh Mum I wish I had. If I could make a miracle and take you there I would.

Instead this weekend I did the unthinkable I took you somewhere I didn't want to go. I took you to an old peoples home, a care home, call it what you will, I took you away from your home and into somewhere that even though it uses the word home can never be such a cosy place of life, love and memories.

We talked as usual this weekend, sometimes you were with me and sometimes you drifted off to that place where I cannot go. I hope it is a happy place, although I don't really think so as you look so sad. You are so strong and merely tell me 'All good things come to an end', I cry like a child and you hold my hand. 'Don't forget me' you say and you let go my hand to brush away a tear. I am in pieces.

I drive home in the dusk and pouring rain. I cannot see the blur of cars all around me, I howl like a baby, nobody can hear me. Do they see this mad woman with red blotchy tear stained face raging at the world, she is lost, a child on her own without her Mum.

I Feel a monster, a heel, a shit and every other word I can think of. How can I do this to you. You who gave me everything for all these years, what thanks is this. But we can't do anything else Mum, you need the help we just cannot give. So instead I give you this little virtual visit to France with me Mum. We have done it together, the girly togetherness, our Thelma and louise moment, and just like the film it has a sad ending. We have driven off the cliff together, but Mum please remember, I am holding your hand all the way.

Karon x

CLARITY IS PRECIOUS

I've had some lovely emails from readers asking how things are going with Mum. Well she had her two weeks of respite care and is now back at the flat she shares with Colin.When  I went to see her last week she made no mention of the Beatles but instead couldn't remember when I had last visited and couldn't recall my dailing calls. There was anger at me for not calling, for not visiting, for the staff for just about everything. My Mum has always been afraid of anger, of raised voices, always the one to calm my Dad down, to smooth ruffled feathers, to calm the waters. Now it is as if all the years of avoiding anger have been compounded , as if a ball of anger has been built up inside and is now spilling out, oozing into everyday life where once calmness reigned.  I am not proud of the fact that I found an excuse to leave early. How do some people have the strength to cope with this sort of thing? How do they have the patience and the love to overcome the enormous obstacles that life has thrown down between them and their loved one? I wish I knew. What did I do, well I was all mature and kissed my Mum, thanked the staff for their kindnesses and then ran like hell.

These are photos from other times, maybe Mum recalls those times and not the present. Maybe she is reliving past times and has no room in her head for the mundanity of now. I hope there is happiness somewhere and not just the sadness that shows in her eyes. She is frightened in her own home. Sight failing, limbs frail, it is no wonder she has anger at the world for letting her come to this helpless state. It makes me feel so stupid and guilty for my tantrums at ridiculously silly things, when she has such a tenuous grip on anything now, when her world is slipping away.

But yesterday when I phoned there was clarity. She said 'how are you' and 'thanks for phoning, that's really kind of you'. My God, it was Mum again, for just a few moments it was my Mum on the phone. You have no idea what that meant.

These are photos of Mum, the top one was taken on holiday about 10 years ago when my Dad was still alive. just look at their happiness, how she looks after her old man. Middle pic was taken in London a great many years ago outside Madame Tousades wax works museum. The monkey I am holding bit me on the face right after the camera clicked. To this day I hate monkeys! The last pic was taken this January before Mum's world collapsed.So there you go, my update on Mum. Now you know why I don't mention her much on the blog, it is too sad for you guys to read and my keyboard gets too wet with tears writing this.

Karon x

A VIEW FROM THE BRIDGE

You can be pulled up short and stopped in your tracks by many things, that 'woah, didn't expect that one' kind of moment. Here's one from me

'Who was the other beatle?'

Okay sounds quite an inoffensive question, but when it comes from your very old and very frail Mum whilst she is sitting in a care home staring out of the window across the river to where we used to live, it is something of a stunner.

Instantly my mind raced, was she thinking of insects or the Beatles group from the sixties. What the hell brought this on? I try a gentle question in return and resist the almost overwhelming urge to shout 'what the hell are you on about'. Instead I say 'What Beatles do you remember Mum?'. She had the names of John, Paul and Ringo to hand so I felt quite safe in adding George to the mix for her.

A few minutes later she asked the same question, I replied in the same way. This time she had missed out Paul. The show went on again and again.....

This was a new and frightening aspect of her 'fading', it was like talking to a child. A child who just wouldn't/couldn't grasp the facts. A stroppy child who didn't like/want anything I had brought or anything that I said. My heart ached for her and what she used to be just a few short months ago. We sat together in her sunny room looking out over the river we know so well, me in mind racing panic, she, only God knows where.

She is thin now, her legs are the width of my wrists. How could they possibly hold her upright? How did this happen so fast?

I wear a look I have been perfecting, my dutiful daughter look, I feel as if I am wearing an itchy jersey, I want to take it off and be me. I can't, I must maintain 'the look' throughout the visit.

It's tea time and I leave, I say 'I love you' she asks me who was the other Beatle.

Outside the sun is shining, am I dazzled by it, is that why my eyes are streaming.

The river is right in front of me, the old footbridge that leads to the other  side.  I can see our old house over there. Suddenly the lump in my throat overwhelms me. The bridge takes on a Brigadoon quality and I am so very tempted to cross it. Would it take me back to another time when the house was ours and both parents alive and well. No of course it wouldn't,  but just for a moment it all seems so possible, so real.

I get back into my car and drive home.

Karon x

FADED FLOWERS

Busyness is a state of mind over matter. Keeping going, converting thoughts into actions, killing time. To hell with the fact that it is actually work and I'm building up stock needed for Christmas. This non-stop work fever covers a full-on panic struck, don't-stop-or-you'll-think-about-it, frightened old little girl, me.

Until a few months ago, well until spring of this year really, my Mum could watch TV till 10pm, make her own meals, go shopping, meet friends for coffee, phone me up and chat happily about everything and nothing.

Now her life is ruled by carers, a catheter, and too much time to worry about her failing health . Her sunny disposition has gone. In it's place is a frightened rabbit who stares blankly into the headlights of life and is at a loss as to what to do.

The care home awaits. She spent a 'sleepover' there on Saturday, and next weekend goes in for 2 weeks respite care.  For her sake and especially for my brother Colin's sake. The gaunt face of stress cannot be hidden. The tiredness and strain of months of sleeplessness and the crushing defeat of the endless loving care that sees no light. This cannot be hidden and the lines are etched deep on his face, he looks ill and done in.

Mum needs a break. Colin will get a break from this dreadful situation on Saturday. Mum never will, this is her life now, what there is of it.

A joyful colourful flower can fade in no time at all.

Enjoy those flowers while you can.

Karon x

PREZZIES FROM SEATTLE

This was going to be a nice sensible post about what I am doing in preparation for the Harrogate trade fair next month. Instead here I am posting this mad photo of Idgy I took yesterday. No, my little darling has not had a 'trout pout' lip job, she is merely wearing her new shades and chewy lips that arrived yesterday as a belated Birthday prezzie from my lovely blogging friend Nan in Seattle.

Idgy was so thrilled with her box of goodies that included this gorgeous snow globe of Seattle (going to school with her today to show off), lip glosses, tulip shaped candy lollies, beads, fun bouncy pink Caterpillar (now hanging in her room), hair bands, fabric transfers and pens. Thats not everything. THANK YOU so much Nan, you made my best friend's day.

Most popular item in the box. The sun glasses -' keeps flies out your eyes when you're on your bike Mum'.

Thanks again Nan, you are a star.

I'm getting some great comments on the Heart Of The Home giveaway. Just look at the post from Tuesday and leave a comment saying where the heart of your home is. So far we have had, the kitchen (like me), livingroom, diningroom, window seat, kids bunk bed for snugly chats, porch and garden. You guys are great and all have such a nice outlook on things. So keep up the comments.

Off to get that stock done, and I will give you a work update soon I promise.

Karon  x

BIRTHDAY BADGER

Imagine walking into the deep, dark woods. The night is peace full and calm, the leaves rustle above and pine cones and twigs crackle and snap underfoot. In this wood alive lots of animals; rabbits, deer, foxes, squirrels etc. But the most important animal of all is the Birthday Badger. See him lumber from his home with his swaying gait, his black and white coat gleaming in the moonlight. He is a tired old badger, for he works hard all year long. He is no mere Santa Clause who works but one day per year, oh no, the Birthday Badger delivers prezzies to boys and girls every day of the year, on their special days - their birthdays.

Okay l know, nobody else has ever heard of the elusive Birthday Badger, but that's the whole point, he is mysterious, elusive and downright rare. There would be nothing special about the Badger if everyone knew about him, he is a secret and so, so special.

I started the Birthday Badger back when Idgy was just a toddler. Her birthday gifts would come from the family etc and also from this mysterious Birthday Badger. Now the Birthday Badger is like Father Christmas, he can get into any home to deliver the goodies. Unlike Mr Clause however, he has no need of the chimney and fireplace. Oh no, the Birthday Badger is truly magical and appears in a puff of stardust to drop off the loot on the kitchen table (always in a food orientated area as Badgers are heavily into eating), he then disappears as fast as he came. He has even found us when we have celebrated Idgy's birthday while on holiday - this is one clever Badger.

I think this is something Idgy will carry on to her own kids one day (at least l hope so), a bit of her Mum's mad quirkiness from as long back as she can remember.

As you can guess today is Idgy's birthday, 11 today.

This was her 'big prezzie' - no modern technology for our girl, no, he hearts desire for years has been to own a real and proper dolls house, not the toddler style one she has had all her life but a real one that she can properly decorate and add to.

 

As you can see, the Festive Ferret got in on the act right away. We are having a wee bit of a Birthday weekend for Idgy. As it is Thursday and nobody about for a party etc, the festivities will kick off with the gal and me going to the cinema tonight to see 'Night at the museum 2' and then a Pizza Hut dinner. Tomorrow evening their will (weather permitting) be a BBQ in the garden with her Dad there, and on Saturday the Gang (Colette, Simon, their niece and nephew plus Idgy and I) will all be going bowling and then for a Penata Party at the Mexican restaurant. A real Birthday Bash weekend.
I will update you with pix of the lady in question when she is in celebratory attire (well at least not in her PJ's as she is just now).

So that is today - Idgy's big day and our annual visit from that elusive and beautiful creature, the Birthday Badger.

Karon  x

PROUD MOMENTS

Sorry this is just one of my winter wonderland photos. It should be one of a heart bursting with pride.

Last night l went to the 'Ayrshire Schools for ~Christmas' concert at The Palace Theatre in Kilmarnock. The place was packed and it was wonderful to see the massed choirs on the stage (children had been chosen from each school to sing in their own choirs and then one huge choir assembled). The kids had been practicing for months but had only come together for one practice on the day of the concert.

I sat next to my friend Naomi and must admit we didn't expect the entertainment and joy that was produced from the stage. Those kids were amazing, and there was my Idgy in there singing her heart out and loving it. If only my fingers could type out the sheer joy and pride that l felt when l heard them. It was one of those ever so rare fireworks and chocolates moments, a fabulously wrapped package just bursting forth with fun and happiness. Those children sang so well, you would be forgiven for thinking that they must have practiced together for months to get all their harmonies and different parts and levels correct, amazingly they did it in one afternoon.

What a night.

Karon  x