Category: memories

Northbound Journeying

Our journey up here was interesting to say the least. Our darling boy came on the longest trip he had ever been on in the car. He hated almost every minute of it and was very distressed crying and whining. He did not understand that it would be alright when we arrived. He wanted cuddles and reassurance it with his Mama in the front and him in the back it wasn’t possible. At nighttime he didn’t like the traffic noise of the lights of the vehicles behind us. It was a long Journey anyway it made all the longer by stress and tiredness. 

As we reached the border we were met with a beautiful red and orange sky, following the contours of the hills and mountains with silhouettes of the trees and occasional building or cottage.

Higher than our current landscape set way above our heads the colours did not reach all the way to the road ahead of us. 

It’s ethereal light creating another world somewhere above ours where all was at peace. Our own route now being cast into the darkness as we travelled onwards, but yet we were bathed in this warm orange glow. It warmed the soul sending shivers down my spine. “Look at that Sky!” he said to me. I am, I answered my voice almost hoarse with emotion tied up in a truly beautiful experience. Taking us away from the situation we have been in and leading us hopefully towards the next step. The orange sky like a molten sea coming down through the hills that night pooling into lakes with pine trees all around as we reached the border and our welcome to Scotland. The smile spreading across my face, heading home at last. 

Hideout

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Ahh the memories, of where we used to hide as Children.

At my Grandparents house, they had a dining table.  It had drop leaf sides and a cupboard in the centre with a shelf in the middle and a drawer at each end. When we played hide and seek with my cousins, this was usually where I chose, under the shelf inside.  Well, I was quite small!  I have the dining table in storage, the memories all came flooding back when I saw it.

In our first house, my favourite was in the larder, with my best friend sitting under the bottom shelf on the floor, making bread squares, by squashing the bread very hard into cubes.  It began when her father went fishing and we had a conversation about what fishing bait he used.

After that, when Dad emptied the big cupboard in my box room of all of his stuff and I was allowed to use the space to keep my toys and books. I used to sit in there and read stories to the Dollies and the Teddies.  The door would be open and I would take a pillow and sit on the floor of the cupboard with my back against the wall.

When we moved house aged 10, I had to find new hideouts.

A favourite was the bathroom roof, My bedroom window opened out above it and I would sit out on the ledge of the roof straddling it and be able to look down the street across all the other gardens, trees and flowers.  It was quiet there and no-one bothered me.  I always got into trouble for being out there since it was deemed dangerous, but I actually felt very safe up there.

Down the road from where we lived there was a brook with a bridge. I used to go there with my friend who lived over the road, we would fish for sticklebacks and read books and camp out under the bridge.

via Daily Prompt: Hideout Image: Morguefile

A Night Out, Gone wrong…

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This WordPress prompt suddenly reminded me of a situation I found myself in many years ago. It is part of the reason I rarely go out these days and feel generally safer in more relaxed environments.  Although the experience was contained, it was not one that I wished to repeat, however I was unfortunate when it happened to me again several years later. Now they are called Date Rape Drugs and there is alot more information readily available. Back then when your drink was spiked, there was little clue to the unsuspecting as to what with, or how to recover from it. I was just lucky that I did.

It was supposed to be a great night out, we had stayed at a friends Mum’s for the weekend. I had been looking forward to it for ages.

All dressed up we were met by her Uncle who was escorting us for the evening, nothing to worry about, we were in safe hands.

We queued for ages and finally walked into the club, the music was pumping and we were looking forward to a great night out in Birmingham.

As we bought our drinks, two guys came up to us and began talking. I had bought my friend a drink and myself a bottle of beer. I must have taken my eyes off my own drink as I passed hers across. I don’t know how else he could have slipped it into the bottle, but I did not get more than half way down it. Within minutes I felt strange, suddenly woozy and detached from the situation, as though I was on the outside looking in and my legs went.  My friend took my arm and guided me away from them into a corner, telling them to leave me alone. It was not to be the night or weekend I had hoped for.  I began to slur, my words were in my head, but I just couldn’t form them.  I did not know what was happening to me, was I having a stroke or something. I could not even tell her what had happened and it was scary, so scary.  My eyes pleaded with her not to leave me alone.  I could not stand, or walk properly.  She stayed watching over me, her Uncle keeping an eye on me whilst she danced a short distance away, they took it in turns throughout the evening.  We could not leave, we just had to wait it out for the drug to pass, so that my legs would work and for my heart rate to stabilise and she kept bringing me water, I was so thirsty.

A few hours later, I was able to stand.  I had no further recollection of the night, how we got home or any comprehension of the state that I was in.  They sneaked me into her mother’s house. I slept for hours, I was ill. I did not know how I would get home safely. I cannot recall how I did. I remember the next day, her mother assuming that I was the worse for wear. My friend explained what had happened and only when the Uncle verified what had happened did she believe us.

It was the last time that I stayed there and I did not venture to Birmingham again for a night out. I was lucky, my friends were around me to keep me safe.

via Daily Prompt: Slur

My Blogging Birthday.

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I read an article the other day on Linked in which inspired me to write one of my own on the subject of blogging. Later last night I read another linked here from a blog I follow A Thousand Bits of Paper  who tells of her draft folder and subject matter and how she dives in and out of there. I think that we all do it. Save some for later post it when it seems right, or not at all. I have on several occasions written thought I had finished a draft and then not felt quite right about publishing. Waiting for the right time to do so and having to edit it so much because the timing is out. But since I have the opportunity to elaborate here on my own blog about my own writing I feel inclined to.

As I head towards a whole year as a blogger, it feels kind of strange to be writing this. Firstly that something I had thought at first might not take off or might be short lived would become quite a big part of my life. When I thought that a little bit of writing here and there would turn into something that would consume so many of my waking hours and that my thoughts, however random they might be would be down on paper and/or the blog and I would be letting it all out in the open.

At first my partner was apprehensive about it. Having life as we know it out there for all to see and that is why you do not see his name here when I write. It’s easier that way. I wanted to keep him separate and protect him in some small way.  

Blogging has changed my life, I hope for the better. I have an outlet for thoughts and creativity which means I no longer carry them around bursting at the seams, an emotional wreck full of baggage clogging up my life, which is how I felt previously.

True, I haven’t done a great deal of go getting or living in the past year and have often felt constrained but not in the same ways as before. So it has helped me grow as a person, my writing has improved I think and I have connected with some wonderful people and writers along the way. I have found them to be both informative and supportive and thankfully right when I needed it, totally non-judgmental. I had been so fragile previously I don’t know if they sensed this in my writing, or just that I have been so extremely lucky. Either way, I am truly grateful for them and the experience of writing. I will continue with this blog it wasn’t a five minute wonder for me. More like the start of something wonderful and your comments have spurred me on. I have written a book and got it out there on Amazon at least. It’s a little acorn at the moment, but I felt that I would continue with my poems and there might be enough for a second one, who knows maybe even a third on the same vein. I am testing my writing language. I may decide to write that raunchy book too, since they also seem to be all the rage and at least it will get that little lot out of my head and I think that there might also be a novel hiding in there somewhere.

I still have a fight going on with my partner from time to time about my writing.  After all, He has demands upon my time more so while I have not had a job. I need to work but since I haven’t been able to this has kept me sane and given me the outlet to keep working towards something however small it might be. I also need space for my own thoughts, to release them without judgement. We don’t always agree and I don’t want to argue. We don’t often unless it’s something important or I feel really strongly about, but we talk about everything. I mean everything and sometimes I just crave some peace and quiet and it feels like overload. If I can’t get out on my own then I go and write. It helps to have some of your own space to do this uninterrupted. I make sure that I write most days even if it is just a diary entry just before I sleep. The pages on my phone have become my silent notebook if I need to write in the early hours or the morning and not all of it gets published here.

I used to carry notebooks around when I was working. I still have many of them and will go back to that since the batteries on the phone are always running low and it still needs to work as a phone I have been thinking of getting an electronic notebook though it might save me time when I’m going to work again. I like to get things put on the laptop and backed up since losing my hard drive a couple of years ago. I found it devastating. I don’t like to lose things.

I have recommended and encouraged others to venture into the world of blogging, to begin their own journey and see where it takes them for me  so far it has been such a wonderfully rewarding experience.

Today I received a notification that I had received 1337 likes to my blog.  A strange number to celebrate, but hey I’m glad that people out there in the big wide world are still liking what I write. I also now have 160 followers, so to all of you. I Thank You, I am grateful for you all making it worthwhile.

 

What Did He Say?

Ah, this clip takes me back to my childhood, the first time I heard it there were peals of laughter which filled the house and we all raced to the television to look at it. Mum had the song The Israelites on an album by Desmond Dekker and it was unusual to hear it on the TV at that time.

We often have misheard things, we go out walking and with cotton wool in my ears as I have had to have the past few months, during our walks I often find myself asking of my partner, “What did he say?” as someone walks past.  It is a bit of a dead loss though since my partner is partially deaf in one ear and you can bet it will always be that side that the person has passed us by on, he does the same to me, which is usually met with shrugging from me since I have no idea.

We make a fine pair don’t we?

 

via Daily Prompt: Heard

About This Time of The Year 

There is something about this time of year which I cannot explain. I don’t cope very well in the cold and it is usually the coldest month of the year, when the bitter winds blow and you cannot feel your face. In the last few months I have suffered with tremendous pain in my ears and throat on a regular basis and as yet unexplained. I was told that it was eustachian tube disfunction and prescribed something for it but it didn’t work. So I resort to plugging my ears with cotton wool every time I leave the house.

So in the coldest time of the year, why am I missing our beloved Scotland so much. True, for the past four years we have spent either Christmas or New Year and sometimes both up in Scotland, braving the cold and enjoying the scenery. It felt normal to us to be there. It was where we went for Kato’s holiday and this year we didn’t. This year we had Roki who hasn’t got used to travelling yet so has no desire to take such a trip. We hope that in time that will change. Oh I do hope so, then we will be able to show him our wonderful piece of heaven.

Meanwhile maybe because it was Burns Night a couple of weeks ago and there is a plethora of Scotland on our TV screen is what is making me homesick. I know that it is totally impractical at present but I was looking wistfully at jobs there earlier today.
I have been cooking these past few days. Things which I do not usually make and have enjoyed it. I haven’t been well this week, none of us have so this is my way of helping us to heal. By preparing food wholesome comforting winter food. I was also thinking of making marmalade again. I haven’t done for a few years now I used to make orange and ginger and add brandy for a bit of hooch. It was nice.

I am missing the hill and all of it’s little oddities. I know that I could not stay there in this cold weather. We would freeze and so would our water supply which would be difficult up there. I am craving the time when we are able to go there at will whenever we wish and do not have to rely upon friends for water or baths.

I am missing the trees, the wildlife and the light which brings me peace and calms me and it is this that I am thinking of tonight again as I cannot sleep. Yes I am tired. But for some reason I am wide awake and thinking of our sanctuary once again. He talked about the beautiful burn which he filled with stones for me, so that the water would run freely through it and we would not be overrun with mosquitoes. It nearly killed him as so many things almost did that year. He wanted to do it for me, to surprise me. I am glad I brought him home in time. He was ill that year too collapsing with blood poisoning a week after his return due to an infection in his jaw.

We have a supply of wood, but this time of year I know that it would not last us very long. I am conscious that it would not be easy to replenish it despite all the trees that have fallen. My first foray with a chain saw this year does not exactly qualify me to log 150 foot pine trees, I would need a much larger saw than we have and I still have not fitted the log burner in the other room or repaired the chimney. There is so much to do and now is not the time to do it. Yes I would need a team of helpers. I don’t have any.

I am constantly amazed at the people who can turn their hand to anything. I am a creative person and I also have a practical nature but my tools are old and a little basic and my knowledge is sketchy. I am willing to learn and give almost anything a try. I have thought of opening up the place to helpers far and wide and offering food and board in return for help to get our house fixed up but he will not entertain the idea. He doesn’t want people tramping all over our private place. He likes the solitude that it provides.

We have a select few friends I there, who do not encroach and are always welcomed when they arrive.

I wonder, Is the dream moving farther away as the years go by? Seven years this year we got this magical place and I thought back then that we would’ve been well on our way to having it sorted out. In truth we are such a long way off, not much nearer to the goal. Although at least the majority of the ground is cleared and we can see what we have now.

We have been reevaluating these last few days. Trying to figure out what is the best action to take. A step in the right direction to make some progress and changes for he better. We are undecided as to whether our southern lifestyle needs to drastically change but personally I feel that it has to. A move might be on the cards this year and this would not be an easy task. It is also likely to cost us financially and we are not set up for it despite my best attempts I am no nearer to getting full time paid work. All this time later, I still do not have my head above water which makes me hesitant rush in and do it all over again, I need to find the right job, which pays the bills without a shortfall.

The Daily Post – Overwhelming

Natures Way


As you hear the wind through the trees,
Sounds on the ear to entice and tease.
Natures bounty there in the wood,
Planted here for the great and the good.
Will share its branches and bend its bough,
Save some for later, not all needed now.
Leave some behind, to heal and regroup,
Let nature keep you in the loop.
Berries and fruits, there to behold.
What was once a garden of old
And one day, will be so again,
If you take care and do not drain.
The resources it’s happy to share.
While you clamber among it there.

Mi Casa Su Casa – Casa Lola Via Laietana

It was a wonderful day, we had wandered about looking again in awe at the sights that surrounded us when we were heading back to the hotel. On our last night I was determined that although it was nice and I mean the food was really nice, I did not want us to be the Brits who always go to the same place to eat on holiday. That I would be such a cliche. So I pushed us to go back to the hotel to get freshened and dressed up. Mum had promised me a birthday meal whilst we were away and I did not want to go somewhere local once we came back, what would be the point of that. We were in this wonderful place and although we were tired, there were restaurants aplenty there. We were heading back with our feet aching when we stumbled upon Casa Lola. It wasn’t a cafe at all it served tapas and other lovely things and the decor put an immediate smile upon my face. I stopped to take photos from outside and a man strode towards us smiling. Come inside if you like, he said inviting us in. I said that we weren’t ready to eat, he said that’s Ok you don’t have to, you can come in just to take photos. So I did. It was five minutes walk from the hotel even in the heels I was definitely going to wear so I asked if I could see the menu and he told me that it is all freshly cooked at the bar where you can see it. I figured out that there was food I could eat and would also enjoy being an awkward diner due to allergies I have to check.

All good. I Thanked the man for allowing me to take photos and explained that we had to go back to the hotel but that we would return. He probably hears that all the time I thought, but I wanted to do this.

We walked back and got sorted out dressed up changed and walked back. He was pleased to see us “Thankyou for returning,” he said. I said that we would I replied. He showed us to a seat and we ordered wine. We still had half a bottle of a lovely Tempranillo Merlot sitting in the hotel room from the night before. It was so fruity and tasked like raisins but so smooth too, we had savoured a glass each before crashing out to sleep the night before. So we ordered a Tempranillo which was just as good, by the glass as it was already late we did not think we would have time to drink it all.

We began with a starter of Tapas I ordered steamed mussels which were absolutely right and tomato ciabatta bruschetta whilst Mum ordered cod. She made me try it, it was cooked to perfection and melted in the mouth and was served with a grilled red pepper and asparagus and lightly dressed with sea salt.

For our main course, we tried the seafood paella. It was darker than I had anticipated and served in a cast iron skillet but the flavours were intermingled beautifully. Mum was distinctly unimpressed with the seafood on top.

We sat observing the other diners, there are convex mirrors on the walls which made her view so much easier. Three ladies at another table were having a lovely time and we commented on it was like watching me with my two best friends when we got together. Although that has been far too long since that happened.

We looked at deserts which are notoriously difficult for me as Mum fancied one. I considered ordering the cod starter which she had chosen. It tasted so good. She went off to investigate them and spoke with the man who arrived back just before she did with a wonderful fresh fruit salad that he had made for me. The strawberries within it were so fresh and juicy it was just right.

He also asked the waitress to bring me another glass of red wine which was “a gift, on the house”

By 10pm it was starting to get busy in there. A man joined the ladies for Tapas and drink and then proceeded to rearrange the front of the restaurant to set up a sound system at about 11pm and started to play some really good tunes. A real mix of music and including a bit of jazz and some mixed up old songs. I’m not great with loud music but this was not too loud. You could still hold a conversation and Mum was considering getting up to dance, saying that was one thing that was missing from our holiday. Dancing. I told her that she could but I wasn’t drunk enough to attempt to dance. A necessity before I would have. I have never been a dancer.

We ordered coffee and as it arrived I smelled the coffee. We had not had a cup all day, no wonder we felt so tired and were flagging! But I have to say that at that point it tasted and smelled like the best coffee in the world! It was smooth on the tongue and livened the senses. I bowed to the coffee gods, thanking them, it made mum laugh.

At the end of the meal I thanked the man. Explaining that this I had a wonderful birthday meal and such a lovely evening in this wonderful place. I also thanked him for the wine. He said it was a pleasure and Thank you for your custom it was lovely to meet you.

We walked back to the hotel. We had a lovely evening and enjoyed the remainder of the lovely red wine as I rang my partner to tell him all about it. It really was the best way to spend our last night on this wonderful place.

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The Daily Post – Invitation

Saab Monte Carlo Yellow

image010It was his favourite of all the cars that they had owned together. They had enjoyed many Saab’s over the years but this one remained in his memories and had a lace in his heart. Of all of them this one was his smile factor.

A bright yellow Saab 900 convertible. It was not the original shape vehicle, but the newer model on a 1998 registration. A 2.3 petrol engine with an Automatic gearbox and as it changed through it’s gears it flew with a whisper quiet engine. They loved it. It took them all over the country on many trips away, exploring together in the sunshine. Even in huge rainstorms you couldn’t help but smile. It made you feel like you were a small child that had found the biggest puddle in your favourite wellies. A car which made you feel totally safe. It’s big comfortable black leather interior always looked smart and turned heads approvingly down whichever street we drove.

They took it to Belgium and France on holiday, on day trips. Visited family and felt sure in the knowledge that they were perfectly safe exploring new things together. Those were happy times when they were younger and more carefree.

When he decided to get her new car some time later, he gave it up included into the deal. He regretted it, not for weeks but for years but did not say so for she would have wanted him to keep it.

Although they had many other Saab’s of the same model it was never quite the same. Later when the truth emerged that it was his favourite they looked for another to recapture the times gone by, to create new memories and to drive through France again exploring new things together. They haven’t managed to get another one yet, always somehow missing out when they see one, but she has not given up hope of fulfilling that particular wish just yet.

The Daily Post – Yellow

Museu Nacional D’Art de Catalunya – MNAC

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After my mother’s disappointment had become apparent when we arrived at the Barcelona Pavilion, we looked for something else to do. It took only moments to find from there. Looking up we found the National Museum of Art. High upon the hill with fantastic gardens surrounding it and the most wonderful far reaching views over Barcelona city and the Place d’Espagne.

The gorgeous building has so many wonderful features tucked inside, before you even get to the artwork.

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Although religious artifacts aren’t my thing, although there were some fabulous pieces in that section. I was particularly taken with a statue of St George, slaying his dragon. A mother and her boychild, then as I am a capricorn girl, I couldn’t resist photographing the last panel below.  As we were short on time, I wanted to get to the contemporary art section.

 

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We were lucky to find that there was a contemporary art exhibition on there, with such delights including doors and furniture by Antonio Gaudi and my particular something wonderful there some sculptures and sketches by Miguel Blay whom I had not heard of before, but will definitely look at more closely.


I was thrilled there was a photographic exhibition. I was cheeky enough to get a few pictures showcasing Marianne Breslauer’s career spanning the years 1927-1938 beautiful images of ladies for good measure before closing time, along with a few more monochrome shots from other photographers.

 

Lots of other photographs caught my eye, including a rather lovely picture of a starlet from a golden era.

There was a beautiful stained glass panel which I just have to share with you here, unfortunately I do not know who created it. But I must admit that glass is another of my weaknesses.

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As we left the gallery, we were met by the most beautiful sky and sunset. Like most of the other people who were leaving, we took photographs not of ourselves, just the scenery around us, it was exquisite.


The Daily Post – Exquisite