live in the moment

Whilst out and about this morning I was amazed (and not in a good way) at the number of people engaged in some mobile phone activity - either texting or gabbing loudly for the world and his wife to hear.

For frig's sake. (whoever frig may be) why can't people just enjoy the moment they are in anymore?? They seem so intent on being in everyone else's moment at the same time, they can't enjoy theirs....

Anyhoo, I bought some glue at the Range, and I noticed that I put a couple of things back which, right now, I can't really afford to buy. I never used to do that. This is, for those who don't already know, the first month since last year that I am in charge of my own funds - I am responsible for the money I earn, and for feeding us for the month. I was worried that I had learnt nothing - once a spender, always a spender, but - actually, I have known all month in my mind, my running bank balance and what I have available to spend. I have rejected the things I know I cannot buy within the money I have, I have sold a few things on ebay to give me a bit of spare cash and I have - surprise of all surprises paid some cash in to the bank to cover a cheque I had to issue unexpectedly. Now clearly, in normal-world this is no big deal, but in Janice-world, this is testament to a lesson learnt. Good for me I say.

Finally got around to finishing last months layouts, just did a bit of tarting up really:

And this one - really like the pinks and blues in this, not really my favourite colour combo of all time, but I am happy with the finished result.

Went to Knightshayes (NT) which was fabulous - I love the house and the gardens are so, so lovely there.

Then I took this photo:

which cost me my camera for the rest of the day as I thrust my hand out to stop Oliver from banging his head on the eagle's beak and the camera swung round and bashed on the bird and the lens jammed. Shitsticks. So you'll just have to trust me - it was all gorgeous. Got to playing a bit of hide and seek and when it was my turn (groan) I lay down behind some lavender bushes on some flagstones and prayed I would be found quickly. After I had coaxed my creaky body down to the prone position I became painfully aware that at my age I probably looked more like a victim of a heart attack than a young fit parent playing hide and seek. Luckily Oliver tripped over me before any do-gooders could rush in with a bit of CPR.

juggling and balancing

Yeah well, he was fine - OK?? Nothing to worry about. Paranoid Mum, that's me, you have no idea. He's been a couple more times, and each time I feel more relaxed about it. The girlies seem to be able to manage the kids pretty well from what I hear. Can't help feeling sorry for the kids dropped off there day in day out, obviously there because of parents working, whereas I have the luxury of taking Oliver there for his benefit, not the other way around. I really am very lucky in the life I lead....

Have completed this layout for the sketch challenge over on the Sarah's Cards blog:

Quite pleased with the end result - I like these papers (My Mind's Eye), they are very vintage, but not as easy to work with as I'd thought.

Also finished this one from the crop:

AND completed my entry for the green art journal in my Art Journal CJ. Really enjoying this particular CJ actually, getting to work towards a style. I want to produce my own journal of my innermost thoughts and fears, but want it to be really arty, and I'm just not there yet.

By the way, I am not very religious although this entry uses the lyrics from the song by Joan Osbourne which I heard on the way home the other day in the car. I have always liked the message in them:

If God had a name/What would it be/And would you call it to his face/If you were faced with him/...........

If God had a face/What would it look like/And would you want to see/If seeing meant that you would have to believe..../

I just like the idea that if you could see God, would you choose to because then you would have to believe in him.....

I had yesterday all planned (whilst Oliver was otherwise occupied) - I was going to toddle around the antique/secondhand places for some bits. My wish list was not unreasonable, I thought, a couple of bone-handled knives for buttering, a nice cup and saucer for tea in my craft room, a nice individual wine glass (I have recently managed to smash our last two...), and some more odd plates. Could I find any of these???? Could I buggery. AND it pissed with rain. AND Topsham (said place for antique finds - or not) was full to bursting with snobs. And old people. And worse - snobby old people. How dare they be there to spoil my me time.

And I can't even begin to talk about the cats and dog..We spend our time dodging round the house so that they don't meet, and this is one helluva small house, believe me.

And BREEEATTTHHHHHE. Now where did I put that paper bag.....

Do I like this look?

New blog look - not sure I like it, but I am fed up with messing around with it for now.

Just read (within 48 hours) a good book:

It's about a teenage girl who goes out one night, gets drunk, gets brought home by her father, there's a row, she passes out in her room, wakes up the next morning and the whole family have disappeared - mother, father and older brother. Fast forward 25 years and her family seem to be trying to get in touch.......MWAH HAH HAH HAH. It's very readable. Got to be, for me. If I don't like the writing style within a few pages, I won't stick with it. I would be the crappest member of a book club ever. I suspect there would be limited discussion on impressions of the first two pages.....

And I have just started this:

recommended by a friend. Oh dear, they're the worst sort of books usually, because you feel hugely obliged to find it as brilliant as they do. And I rarely do. However, this is bloody HILARIOUS and I have lol'd alot over the first three chapters. This passage had me sniggering away:

'Not even every parent I knew telling me that the baby would totally disrupt my life prepared me for how much the baby would totally disrupt my life. It was like having your most difficult and demanding relation come to stay with you for ever. In fact, it would have been easier to put up with my ninety-year old great aunt coming into our bed at three in the morning: at least she might have gone back to sleep for an hour or two.'

Many a true word and all that.

Am approaching the end of March, and the end of my alcohol ban is in sight. Whilst I will be pleased at the thought of a nice glass of chilled white in the evenings, I now know it doesn't dominate my life as I feared it did - I am freeeeee!

On the down side, I have compensated the lack of alcohol for sugar in other forms. My lifelong love of all things savoury has diminished under the powerful urge for cakes and biscuits. I now have an extra layer of flab to deal with. I just cannot seem to manage anything in moderation, sigh.

Roger and ramblings

Meet Roger:


Mark brought this scrawny little babe in from the Pigeon loft Tuesday morning with a torn underwing. He made me feel very motherly, so I have hand-fed and watered him, and called him Roger. He repays my kindness by chirping endlessly through all the good bits on telly and shitting on my carpet.

My sis-in law came around yesterday for a cup of tea and a go at me for not blogging more often. In fact, I do believe that if I had blogged lately, she wouldn't have bothered to pay me a visit at all ha ha. Here's the thing: I love the whole concept of blogging, and I love a bit of blog-hopping as much as the next cyber-gal, but it does kind of kill the art of spontaneous conversation as you end up repeating yourself and not even managing to be as interesting as your own cyber-self. . . .

My friend informs me that there are plans afoot to add a lift to Haytor to enable access to disabled people. (!!!!!!!!!!!!!) She is convinced this is true, and is (pretty justifiably I think) outraged at this. Whilst I fully appreciate the need to make 'life' as reasonably accessible as possible to the disabled population, does this type of thing qualify as 'reasonable' access? Methinks not - since Haytor is a geographical monument which has been there for millions(?) of years and therefore cannot be likened to adding a slope to the local greengrocers for disabled entry!!

I think this country is heading towards mindless positive discrimination. Worse, in my mind than your common or garden discrimination, since there is a big helping of hypocrisy in there too.

During her ranting and raving, my friend, who shall remain nameless to protect anonymity, said - and I quote - 'why don't disabled people just realise that life has handed them the shitty end of the stick and just get on with it.' Whilst I saw where that fitted in to her argument, I couldn't help staring at her in open-mouthed astonishment that she'd said it out loud. So callous.

Well, that will do for now. Better try and pull a decent meal out of the ether for Mark tonight, since last night I handed him a tin of beans and a bag of frozen chips before buggering off to work all night. Tsk tsk. I fear I am failing in my wifely duties.

Finished my layout for the Indigo Mill challenge:

The challenge is to create a layout based around a conversation. This is a conversation Oliver and I have on an almost daily basis:

O: Love you.

M: Love you too.

O: Love you more.

M: No, you don't.

O: I do! I really do!

anyway, I wanted to record this particular conversation as he really believes it - he truly believes his love for me is the greatest love ever, and far surpasses mine for him. I just smile away, because I have the trump card - I am his mother, and in time, when he has children of his own (hopefully) he will feel what I feel and know I was right all along - I love him more! HA! I win.

Off to the cinema this morning, working this afternoon and out for a nosh up for nephew Jack's 18th tonight. Phew.

Et voila

The much blogged about Christmas Journal 2009. This is it shown closed by the way - too big for it's own bookrings if you ask me....

Have completed this layout for a challenge over on the Kaboodle blog - I am quite pleased with it although it's been photographed in a not great light:

Mark is getting on my WICK tonight and keeps on pointing out cobwebs around the house that I've neglected to hoover up. Bloody hell, who hoovers looking up? Bad enough hoovering looking down I reckon. Like I say, Miss Haversham's wedding breakfast.

Have watched 3 full series of House now. Reduced to re-watching from series 1, since my supplier has not yet supplied series 4. Oh how tragic is my life....

Another obsession

Would love to say I have been doing some dissertation or other like other brainy people and therefore have been waaayyyy too busy to blog, but - no. I have actually been indulging in my latest obsession - House. That would be the American medical drama starring Hugh Laurie. I have, sadly, predictably, fallen in love with the character - rough looking, maverick, dry, all the qualities I find attractive in a man (?!)

My Christmas journal is finished, all bar the shouting. I have no idea what that expression means. It is huge - the 2.5" bookrings cannot take the strain and I am on the lookout for some giant ones. I have recovered my urge to scrapbook (albeit slightly) and done this layout:

It is the 3rd week of the Scrap Weekly, scrap a 'bad' photo (out of focus etc, but one you always wanted to scrap sort of thing). I did do week 2, but am really not happy with it and now it sits gathering dust along with everything else in the house. A bit like Miss Haversham's wedding breakfast in this place.

Had another dream about Vernon Kay trying to tempt me away from my marriage. Give it up Vern, my heart now belongs to Hugh.

Oh the irony

Having left it til the twelfth night to take down the deccies, whilst doing so on Wednesday, snow was falling heavily outside..... just couldn't manage it a week or two earlier huh? Well, snow has wrought it's usual havoc on the UK with everything grinding to an immediate halt as soon as the first flakes started to fall.

On a scrappy note, I have to say that for the first time since I started scrapbooking, I feel like there's suddenly no point to it. My view on scrapping has been to try to capture a memories and thoughts in an attractive and creative way. This then provides me with an arty outlet and a nice hobby. Lovely. But, this week, Shimelle has started her new annual class - Document 2010. This goes along the lines of collecting together 'stuff' throughout the month of your day to day life, events, happenings and taking photos. At the end of the month you then sift through all the memorabilla and pics and scrap what you want to keep.

All well and good, but then I got to thinking: actually, Oliver is not remotely interested in the albums I have produced documenting his every waking moment. I reckon he would be more interested in envelopes full of 'stuff' and pics each month to look through in years to come. Therefore, I could keep 'stuff', take pics, put them into envelopes, bind each year into a folder of 12 envelopes for the next 10 years thereby saving myself a heap of time and money. I could bung in letters, all manner of scribbled notes and thoughts and voila. A full and comprehensive history of his life taking almost no extra time, effort or cash.

Boy I feel pretty flat now I've thought it out like that.

Reproduction

Public safety warning. There now follows a lengthy airing of my views:

Since Oliver pointed out to Mark at the weekend that 'sex' was a similar thing to 'making love', (it's a long story), we have been umming and ahhing over when is the right/best time to explain the facts of life to him. (Oliver, not Mark ha ha). Oliver is only 7, but I understand that at his age, his contempories are having some sort of sex education at school. I probably would not have even thought about it yet, but in mixing with different aged kids and from different walks of life as he does, there is a danger he could get mixed messages about a subject I would prefer him to be very clear on. Also, as it falls to me in the main to teach him everything, I felt I could just incorporate it matter of factly into a 10 minute slot without preamble or awkwardness on either side. I am not sure if I leave it if it would be worse to explain at a later date.

Decisions decisions.

In discussing it (at considerable length on my part) with Mark last night, he told me to 'stop banging on about it and just get on with it.' So I did.

With the aid my good friend the World Wide Web, I explained my way through the male and female reproductive organs, the menstrual cycle, sperm and eggs and then realised I was in trouble when he thought the passage of sperm to the egg was via weeing in the mouth. Oh dear. After more explanations he seemed to think the real way was 'gross' and then fell about in hysterics at the thought that Mark and I had actually had a go at it. (once, obviously) I wound up our foray into the wonderful world of reproduction with the advice that he is not allowed to do it until he is at least sixteen, preferably as part of a relationship and under no circumstances is he ever do it with someone who doesn't want to do it with him.

In all honesty, this does feel a little young, but I am also conscious that his lack of knowledge could have left him at an uncomfortable disadvantage in the not too distant future.

dreamy....

It has been over a week since my last blog! Tsk tsk, I am slipping. I got granted some time in ye olde craftroom yesterday, since Oliver had been whisked off by my Mum, and all I did was put a film on and shove bits of paper around the same layout for over an hour! That is soooo rubbish. I have, on the bright side, managed to cobble together some cards:


One for a woman at work who is retiring, and one for a friend who is getting married. A total co-incidence they have both ended up with the same word on the front.




This week's SLYMI is scrap a Bank Holiday. Boo Hiss I say. We rarely do anything of note on a BH due to Mark usually working and I can't bear to fight the hordes and go out anyway. Think I am going to scrap this pic of Oliver and Vanessa, taken at Escot just before the start of the last long weekend.

I love this photo. Maybe not the best in the world (come on, it was taken by me after all what do you expect) but I love the movement and their evident joy in just running around in the grass. Going to poke about to find a suitable passage/quote about childhood/freedom to place artily on it somewhere, methinks. Hmmm, the best laid plans of mice and men... and all that.


At work last night I set off for the 'store' to retrieve some notes only to find that by 8.30 it was dark outside!! WHERE has the summer (and I do use this term loosely) gone?? We have been plunged into the depths of Autumn already - I have been banking on an Indian Summer as scant compensation for the shocking weather we have endured lately!

saw a really good film last night...

....Dan In Real Life, with Steve Carell. Had me hiding behind my fingers a few times squirming with embarrassment at the social disasters unfolding, but hey, that's one of my favourite emotions whilst watching a film. NOT to be horrified, terrified or sickened. As regular readers of my bloggie will vouch...

This week it is the turn of the Scrapgoddesses (of which I am one) to host the UKS team challenge. Here is my layout, based on these themes: journey, handwritten journalling, purple and ribbon:

I like it, actually, and it is one I hope Oliver can see a bit of value in when he is older. Or not, I suspect. Feeling a bit melancholic about Oliver lately. Don't you ever get moments as time is passing that you kind of feel you should stand back and review the path you are taking? His days are spinning by so fast, that already he is 7, and I keep thinking - is this the best we can do for him? Is this the ideal life I dreamed for him? Am I steering him along the 'right' path? I don't really want him growing up in the city, I imagined a more outdoorsy life in the country, and enriched with home-education. I don't know. I feel a bit lost about it all really. Mark would say I am putting my fears and ever-present anxiety over him onto his shoulders so I should just chill a bit. I know, however, from bitter experience that when children stop looking to you for their main influence/guidance they will be looking elsewhere and you will not be able to prevent the snowball from gathering pace and disappearing off down the mountain.... I just feel afraid that I don't have enough time to arm him with the necessary 'tools' to carve his own, confident path through life, or that I may not have the ability to place him in the best environment to bloom.

Does parental anxiety ever ease?

My Mum will be 60 next week, and my severe shortage of cashflow has prompted me to get-a-jewellery-making. She did make noises about a bracelet the last time I wore my own, so I hope she will like these:

Celeb Chefs

What is it with Celeb recipes? I flick through their books (yeah, you know who you are, Tana Ramsay, Nigella Lawson et al) and then, bouyed up with confidence head off to the supermarket to buy copious quantities of eggs, flour and 3 different types of sugar in order to create such lovlies as ginger cake and shortbread only to find that once ready for the oven, the meagre quantities look as if they will not rise (pardon the pun) to the occasion at all. Tana Ramsay's ginger cake recipe led me to believe that the mixture would make two cakes, so I lovingly prepared two tins. Once half the mixture was in one tin it became quite clear that I would end up with nothing thicker than a biscuit in depth, so I threw all caution to the wind and poured it all into one tin. Sure enough, one reasonable cake was the end result. I have checked back again, and whilst her recipe does state 'makes 10 slices', step 7 implores you to 'divide the mixture between two non-stick 2lb bread tins'! Bitch. No wonder people get pissed off with baking. And another thing - I made her shortbread last night, and she says to use a 20cm tin. Well, I measured my tin, as past mistakes are ever in my mind, and it was about a cm short. Now, I struggled to spread the dough out thin enough to cover the base of my too-small tin, and the resultant shortbread was like this:

Thin enough, I am sure you will agree. A 20cm tin would have resulted in even thinner shortbread! I am definitely going to take her recipes with a pinch of salt from now on lol. And I will never forget this cake...

Now, for more civilised activities: The Exeter Crop was a welcome break in the old routine - I love spending the day with like-minded individuals, shoving bits of paper around and snipping and sticking. Oh joy. I did this layout for the weekly UKS challenge:

The challenge was to scrap 1. Something you love, 2. Use something recycled and 3. Use 'pearls'. I have scrapped one of my favourite Disney photos - a lovely wintry, atmospheric morning in Paris which I recall with such pleasure, and I made a be-ribboned tag from an old clothes label and stitched on some pearly buttons. I am pleased with the end result. I finished this one before lunch and then spent the next 3-hours cutting out bits of paper.... no change there then.

I made the Home Page!

I am sure that by the time anyone reads this that my layout will have disappeared from the UKS Home Page, but still, it felt nice to see it there this morning under the SLYMI challenge section....

A friend has been emailing me following on from my James Bond diatribe re the violence/sick content of modern films. I (and she) think it quite disturbing that film makers are given such carte blanche with such horrifying storylines. I am quite sure this is contributing towards the downward spiral of intolerance, ignorance and 'animal hatred' towards fellow humans. Frightening indeed. I am astounded at what is branded 'entertainment' - I know I am a bit fragile and old-fashioned when it comes to films and here is my top 5 list of things that piss me off with films:

1. The lead character dying at the end
2. Gratuitous violence (shooting is just about bearable)
3. Torture in any form
4. Endings which tail off and leave you to form your own conclusions - quite frankly this is lame and totally unacceptable - directors/writers/producers who take this cop out should have their wages docked for not doing their job properly
5. over-acting Americans

Really I'm surprised that I can watch anything these days using the above criteria. Just to strir up a flurry here are my top faves:

1. The Star Wars saga
2. The Disney/Pixar classics (what's not to like)
3. Sleepless In Seattle
4. The Bond films (but not the last two with that twat Daniel Craig in)
5. The Harry Potter films
6. Lord Of The Rings trilogy
7. Grease
8. The Indiana Jones trilogy (before that pile of shite about the Ice Skull)
9. Night At The Museum
10. The Bourne trilogy
11. The Matrix trilogy
12. You've Got Mail

Sure I will think of more - there is usually some weird 'comfort' factor with the films I like. And I do like Daniel Craig by the way - I even like him as Bond, I just hate the way the Bond character is written and the plots now.

Mark was trying to get me to watch 'The International' a while back. It looked like a potential no to me from the cover and plotline, but he likened it to the Bourne Supremacy. A quick check with my violence-ometer revealed that the BS was rated a 12 with 'some moderate violence and one use of strong language'. The International was a 15 and contained 'strong bloody violence and language'. HA! I have been reading between the lines with these reviews long enough to realise that whilst the BS makes me wince in parts, The International would probably make me feel ill and shaky and have to leave the room.

Right, let's just pop that soap box away then.....

scary weather and not being arsed

I have one layout to share:



And I managed to drop a blob of water on it (clearly visible) and I swore copiously. Which made it go away, clearly. Not.

Again we had downpours of rain yesterday and some roads got flooded! Can you Adam and Eve it. I don't live in some little backwater with inadequate drainage - I live in one of the biggest cities in the South West! I watched the hailstones bouncing off of the wall outside and remembered the film The Day After Tomorrow where suddenly everyone was plunged into floods, giant hailstones and the dawn of a new ice age.....

I told Oliver I would take him into town today to get a few things, and then McDonalds for lunch and he (rather disinterestedly) remarked that he might come if he wasn't 'doing anything else.' I was rather taken aback and found myself saying 'oh - OK' in a bit of a feeble voice. Remember, this boy is just 7 and home-taught - I know where he is and what he is doing every second of every day. It was the dismissiveness which took me somewhat by surprise.

Today my friend rang and asked if we wanted to meet her and her little girl in the park for a splash around in the municipal paddling pools. I am so rude that I greeted her offer with as much enthusiasm as if she had rung to offer an afternoon of pulling our own teeth out. Good job she knows me pretty well. I managed to drag myself there in the end and it was good. I like friends who just accept my blatant rudeness as if it's the norm. It saves me the tiresome effort of having to deal with other people's hurt and disappointment. Got enough of a job dealing with my own, thank you very much.

We went to Longleat last week for Oliver's birthday, which was rather lovely. The 'Lions of Longleat' were exceptionally dull though- they were just lolling around in the sun and waiting for the delivery of their next carcass - lazy buggers. After the extortionate entrance fee (well I think anything over £2.50 is extortionate quite frankly) I expected a few roars and dripping fangs at least. And another thing - we bought food there and it never ceases to amaze me how food in this country at these sort of attractions is so highly priced and so shockingly crap. We bought the 'kids lunchbox' which was OK up until the 'lemon flavoured raisins'. Now what the frig is that all about? Why flavour perfectly decent raisins with lemon?? People don't eat lemons. They stick them in drinks or recipes - why make a kid's snack taste of lemon?? I had a ham salad roll made from something masquerading as a bread which was curiously spongey in texture... Cue more incredulous complaining about British food. If I was younger I might have made a(nother) scene, but now I am 40 I feel too old to make the effort. I think I am genuinely worn down with so many years of vitriolic spite......

Food facts

Pate has drugs in it. So too do Pringles, emmental cheese and savoury snacks of all types, particularly dry roasted peanuts and twiglets.

I don't think I can risk having ANY of the above products in the house at all over Christmas since I have already wolfed my way through 2 tubes of Pringles (in 2 consecutive evenings), and then an obscene amount of pate (on offer at Somerfield - they should be due for a drugs bust soon) a couple of days later. And I'm not talking a bit of pate on a bit of baguette here, I'm talking a whole one of those big long french loaves, and finishing the evening standing at the fridge door like a slavering dog with a spoon demolishing what was left in the pate packs. So, so bad.

Don't think I can bear to journal my gluttony in my JYC. I am now up to day 3 - don't laugh, I haven't got a whizzy printer like everyone else (you know who you are) so I have to rely on the likes of J Sainsbury to print up my pics for me - I will always be behind!! Am picking pics up on Saturday morning in time for my crop. A whole day of me me me time. Ah, total blissful scrappiness.

Loads to report....

Got Virgin media plumbed in last week by two young boys who looked as if they should have parental permission to be out alone. Still haven't got the wireless router sorted, told Mark I would do it (?!) and then found we haven't got a wireless adaptor. Couldn't get the cables to fit the appropriate sockets either and rang up Virgin to have a go at some poor hapless chap called Danesh saying that Virgin had not supplied the right ones, blah blah and he kept banging on about the cable modem. I kept on telling him I couldn't see one, getting more irritated by the second, when I realised that he was referring to the modem attached to the TV in the other room... I promptly informed him that THAT was why I was having problems and thank you and goodbye. Sometimes you just have to get out quick.


I applied for a job with NHS Direct, at a band higher than my current job with the NHS, got an interview and then found that there was a Sunday shift going at my place. It's double time, and therefore infinitely more attractive, so I have applied for that too.... meanwhile I have put off the NHS Direct interview because I would prefer to stay where I am really. I like the work, and I like the hours and the people. Not many jobs around like that..... AND then I find out that the Child Tax Credit people have increased my weekly payments (fairly substantially I have to say) because of the drop in my earnings since I left Lloyds. Really, I am in two minds whether to even take this extra shift if I am offered it, or not. No wonder some women are faced with the dilemma of not working at all.

Recently, I have tried to get arty with ATCs. (Artists Trading Cards). I have tried to get going with these before, as I like the idea of trading little cards with people and having a collection of individual art, but as usual, I find my creativity stunted. I have come up with this one with one of my favourite Shakespeare quotes:



And I have tried to get Oliver into them too, as I feel it would be something we could do together, and I think he would like to send and receive these too. With some assistance he made these two, the theme is the Riverbank, and it is a children's ATC swap: (photos are out of focus, my fault)


And finally, I have recently purchased an old PS1 console with a few games, and have re-visited the world of Tomb Raider 2. I played this around 15 years ago fairly extensively and am quite shocked to find how much I can remember of it. I like this sort of game since not only does it involve a great deal of hand-eye co-ordination, you have to think about where you are going, been and how things might happen around the corner. I make Oliver play it with me - he has a fantastic sense of direction with it although he is too scared to take the controls. I have to say there are times that I absolutely shit myself when the spooky music kicks in and I round the corner to be savaged by a pack of Dobermans..... is this good for one's heart I ask myself.....

Oh - and I MUST say about my experience with the Osteopath - I had a headache which went on for about three days, unheard of for me, so I assumed something to be strained, pulled, 'out' whatever, and booked in to see an Osteo I had not heard of before, Susan Farwell. Anyway, she does this cranial-sacral stuff, you know, the very light touching/pressing method and it was FAB. My headache went instantly and she released alot of tension in my ribcage and pelvis too. I saw her again this week and she says my body is 'recovering well'. She reckons I have an accumulation of stress on the body since having Oliver (by horrible emergency caesarian) 6 years ago. AND she cited the operation and recovery from it as a major cause of stress too...

I asked her how it worked and this is a rough explanation, how I understood it. She applies (the right amount of) pressure to the muscle where it crosses over the bones and nervous system. The idea is that her taking the strain off of that muscle will tell the nervous system that the amount of tension there is not necessary, and the nervous system will then re-programme that muscle to be less tense and it will relax itself. When she feels that happening, she releases the pressure that she has been applying, as the muscle has 'got the message' and tension is released by itself. Voila! How very clever. The whole theory of Osteopathy is that if the body is correctly physically aligned, it will self heal. So interesting.

And that's all I've got to say about that...

There but for the grace of God go I

Bit of a shock this week - a bomb went off in the city centre. It went off in a restaurant toilet, but this was seemingly premature and by accident. The only injuries were to the man carrying the bomb - 'sources' say he has lost his sight. Whilst there is a bit of 'serves him right' with it, it is also a bit tragic, as he is apparently mentally ill, and was preyed upon by religious extremists. THAT is the really shocking bit, that there are so many weak/ vulnerable people out there, just ripe for this kind of thing. At the end of the day, you just cannot prepare for being at the wrong place at the wrong time, and if someone is prepared to die for a cause - you cannot protect yourself against it.