Deliriously Deluded Ramblings. Vol 1

048Well, that might actually be a little harsh, but there are times such as now when I feel that anyone looking in on my world at this split second, might think I was. I have been feverish for a couple of days, thanks to the bugs which were passed to my beloved and having given him a week of care, antibiotics and myself a large pat on the back for being able to avoid it, as they say, pride comes before a fall. So stumble into bug filled oblivion I did, with a mighty crash over the Easter weekend. Thank fully, I had the foresight to go and do some shopping to tide us over for a few days, when I had started to feel a bit “under par”

I coped with all of the usual things and then yesterday it hit me, like the proverbial tonne of bricks. So here I am at 3am sitting with a rather fetching hat which covers my extremely painful ears, a scarf around me covering my sore throat, fluffy slippers (de rigueur) and my pyjamas, due to the temperature I am currently sporting, I have also joined him in a course of antibiotics, in the hope that if I catch it now, it will not go to my chest as well as the places it is already wreaking havoc.
All in all it’s not my best look, but he told me he loved me and that I am beautiful before he left me to sleep, but he is delirious still, I’m sure of it. I tried to sleep, but have not been able to do so, so got up again with my painkillers.

Like a short circuit. I am hauled from my deep sleep and dreams, it is as though I have walked for miles over hot coals.
As my feet touch the cold floor, there is a searing, like steak on a barbeque, the heat travels up my legs in an unexplained painful sensation.
It has happened so often, as though 3000 volts have just been switched on and I am jolted again into life. A standing start from which to let the dog out in the middle of the night. As I return to the warmth of the bed, my feet throb and the blood pulsates through my veins, surging like a faulty power supply. Or perhaps just this power surge. Releasing heat like a powerful firework, a bursting rocket upon the sky, as the sparkles fall to the floor, intense and strangely moving as they land.

The electricity dissipates, it ebbs away over time leaving restless legs again throughout the night. I take a sip of water and raise the glass to my forehead, feeling it’s coolness, and resisting the urge to pour the whole glass over my head, knowing that water and electricity don’t mix and risking it once again.

A Wildflower Garden

044I thought that I’d plant a wildflower garden,
To discourage the edges around us to harden.
Through the fields cutting a swathe.
For bugs and Bees, there to enslave.
It would have lupins’, the odd cornflower,
To brighten the way and harness it’s power.
Colours bright will form an array,
From your journey your eyes might stray.
Wander there and scatter around,
Seedlings to grow all over the ground.
Opening up before your eyes,
Turn the corner to your surprise.
Along over there by the side of the road,
There to embrace and the wildlife to goad.
A small chance of some encouragement,
From Nature to do her best it’s meant.
To entice from your face a smile to see,
As blossom and pollen fly to be free.
Floating along, up on a cloud,
A cloak over countryside to shroud.
Near pond and stream and hedgerow,
Earthworms and Beetles busy below.
Waiting through winter, for the cold to pass,
Busy creating the green and the grass.
Buds and leaves begin to sprout,
Sharing their beauty once they are out.

The Yellow Tutu

On the 19th of March, Women all of the world donned their yellow Tutus and marched to raise awareness for this condition. I didn’t wear one myself, or march on this occasion but I fondly recall my own yellow tutu and it takes me right back.

I think I was about 8 years old when I was given my beloved yellow Tutu, my mother had made it. She had made one for me, in turquoise blue with a yellow tutu skirt and I adored it, she also made one for my cousin in her favourite colour, pink. I felt absolutely beautiful in it and it was totally inspiring. At the time I had aspirations of becoming a dancer. I’d even been practicing my ballet steps. I had pink ballet shoes and pink ballet tights, which had been given to me as presents by well wishing neighbours and friends of the family.

But, My clever Mum had made me a tutu and I was over the moon! My cousin and I skipped upstairs and put on our Tutu’s and had our photographs taken, by our grandparents proceeding to dance around the living room. Just little girls playing but a dream was in my head and at that moment it was reality and I was truly happy. I was going to be a dancer, at the time I was sure. I wanted to share the photograph of that day, of two little girls in their ballet costumes at a Christmas family party, but it has been mislaid in the numerous moves, so we will have to content ourselves with sharing the moment.

But I digress, the significance now it seems of a yellow tutu is to unite the ladies of Endometriosis throughout the world. Not content with mere yellow ribbons, we have stepped it up a gear and decided to make a bolder statement, so if you have seen ladies walking along in their yellow Tutu‘s this month, or unusually wearing yellow, this may just be the reason for it.

Spring Storm

There’s a storm outside again you know,
It hurries outside my window
Trying to sleep is ever so hard,
With things it’s hurling around the yard.
You wouldn’t know it’s the first night of Spring,
Isn’t the weather a mysterious thing?
The dog is restless, sleepers awake.
My body is lifeless and starts to quake.
The night is not peaceful as it should be,
I climb out of bed, make a cup of tea.
And wonder when the sleep will return,
Stopping a moment, from tossing and turn.
Perhaps a biscuit is my firm belief,
That something sweet, will give some relief.
Snuggled on blanket, the dog’s gone to bed,
Laying there motionless resting his head.
The heating is on, so I cannot get cold.
Wonder, Is this what it’s like to be old?
Thinking of all of the plants that have tried,
To grow through the cold so many had died.
Thankful that we don’t live in a hut,
Hoping there isn’t a power cut.
The lights in here, flicker and dim,
If we lost the power a mess we’re in.
When it’s like this he’ll often fret,
But at least he’s not outside, getting all wet.
As the harsh wind changes direction,
Things in the garden, facing ejection.
Rain falling sideways, far and wide,
Makes him find a place to hide.
A car driving by hearing the splashes,
fiercely at the door it lashes.
Dog stops by to check me and gives me his paw,
The wind blowing hard is bitter and raw.
Crashing and banging and throwing about,
It shares it’s own way of wanting to shout.
Through trees and bushes, wanting to bend,
A chance from this that there’s fences to mend.
Thankful that I am safely inside
As we await the yearly spring tide.

Draw your Dragon, A Dream and Instruction.

DSCN0414I have been thinking about dreams in the past few months and at times I have delved into what hidden meaning there might be, sometimes they are interlinked from dream to dream and other times, seemingly unconnected. There was another couple of dreams that I had, two that I recall upon waking this particular night and one which I want to share with you.

The first was a very simple image of me drawing a dragon. I often have dreams that I can draw, that I am creating a beautiful picture. I don’t know why I was drawing a dragon, but on waking, I decided that I should. It didn’t come out how it looked in my dream, but they never do when I draw things, especially creatures. However, I followed what seemed to be a very clear instruction and then a very clear message came to me, as though someone had spoken…

“You are still here for a reason, they did not destroy you. Draw your dragon and breathe fire. If you were meant to be finished by these people, it would have happened. But you are still here, Breathe Fire”.

Whichever way you might choose to read it, it was certainly a message which I needed to hear at the time and that thought will stay with me…

The Dragon pictured is one I have photographed, it was on a building in a beautiful place I once visited, the Chinese Museum in Brussels, Belgium. My drawing couldn’t do it justice.

Hope is what it represents.

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It’s funny but figuring out what things represent, they say that it is not good to be a materialistic person. I certainly do not consider myself materialistic but I do enjoy having some of those little luxuries in my life and I have always been slightly crazy about cars..

For instance, at the moment I don’t have a regular job. In the past 12 months I have suffered with depression, grief, a lot of anger, upset, discovery about myself and the way that the past has affected me. About 10 months into that year, we decided to get rid of my Porsche. We have owned many cars over the years, a few rather nice ones. That was a lovely 40th Birthday present for me from my partner, he told me that the time was right to have one. Many years ago, when I was 27 he had offered me one, I climbed into the seat to drive it and knew instinctively where all the controls were. I had never even sat in one previously but drove this very powerful car, without fear as though it was perfectly natural. It was a brilliant car without a doubt, but common sense kicked in and I declined due to the costs of running a prestige car back then, having been bitten by the costs in the car that I had and was changing. Years later, he decided I should have one anyway, there being no time like the present and life being too short, living each day etc and I said Yes. However, 18 months on I was sure that if that went wrong it was going to financially cripple me and I had no reserves of money. So I saw sense again and we got rid of it.

During the time that we owned it, my partner has spent the whole time quietly searching for a replacement Cerulean Blue Saab, a diesel convertible, just like the one that I had, just like the one I adored and just like the one that we regretted getting rid of. He knew that I would swap the Porsche for another one of those in a heartbeat. In October, we found one and had to wait a month to go and collect it. It’s a diesel, an automatic and a convertible and is the most beautiful blue in a car that I have seen. I love it!

Currently it’s stored in the garage, there has been a lot of car vandalism around where we are living and when we returned from a holiday we found that the cars outside had been damaged. We couldn’t leave the car outside of the house and risk that, so it has stayed in the garage. It is taxed, insured and has a tank full of diesel but it is actually sitting in the garage, where it has been for 3 months and hasn’t turned a wheel.
Several of my friends and my family included have asked, “Why don’t you get rid of it, you have no money” “You can’t afford your bills easily, it will take the heat off the situation if you didn’t have it.” In the next breath, they are also the first to admit that they don’t see any of the value in having a nice car. So I’m here to tell you what the value of having a nice car actually means to me and tell you my why…

That car, is the one the same colour, type and style that I saw when I pushed my nose up against the glass many years ago and said to my partner, “If we win the lottery, can I have one of those please!” “I would like one of those.” You see, it was another dream car, one for a newer dream. Something else to work towards and hope that I would get. I never thought that it would happen and I have always pictured goals, for me it puts them in reach. I also believe that some dreams should come true.

Sometime about 2 years later I was due to have a Hysterectomy due to an ongoing battle with Endometriosis. At that time I really struggled to drive, pushing down on the clutch to change gear caused constant pain and I knew that I needed to change vehicles at least for a while. This was going to be a rather large operation, which would change my life drastically, understatement of the year! Just before that happened, my partner presented me with this beautiful car, my new dream car and a fantastic vehicle. It was everything I wanted it to be, absolutely touched all the bases and I was so thrilled to have it, it was there for when I could get behind the wheel again, his timing was excellent.

The hysterectomy came and went, recovery took several months before I was able to drive again, but I was able to drive that more comfortably since it had an automatic gearbox. It was big, safe, and beautiful and every time I sat in it, I had an ear to ear grin, it drove whisper quietly and once you hit the open road, with the roof down and the wind in your hair, you hadn’t a care in the world. It was my off-switch, my freedom and it represents so many of the good things that I wanted to happen in my life. Getting into that vehicle and just driving, can change a bad day into a good day at a stroke. It was a wonderful vehicle and the only reason that we changed it was because I wasn’t travelling enough miles and there was a section of the car, which became clogged due to lack of use. At that point I made a promise to myself that I would have a job again, which took me just far enough each day, so that it wouldn’t be detrimental to one of those engines again and he had spent almost two years looking for another one of those cars.

So back to the purpose of this explanation.
It represents, a time in my life which was very difficult and which I conquered. I had something worth living for, the freedom it gave me and a big fat smile on my face every time I saw it. To walk outside my house on the greyest of days, in the pouring rain, clamber into a warm, safe, comfortable car that I knew would take me to places I had dreamt of. It gave me hope that I could make changes for the better. So you see, when someone suggests that I get rid of it, that I cash it in, car values are not what they used to be, I would not get the return of what was spent on it, but it isn’t about the money.

It has never been about the money…

It is about the whole experience, of a beautiful blue car and I’m going to drive it again, I’m going to enjoy it and it’s going to take me to places. It is going to take me to places that I haven’t yet dreamed of, it’s going to places that I want to see. People that I want to meet. Experiences that I want to experience and all that from a bright blue car. My car has a name, rather than just calling it Blue like the one before it, this one is called Hope. Hope is what it represents for me.