Now, I love sparkly things, rainbow colours and all that but this picture? I actually have no clue what it is - other than maybe Unicorn sick? What is it? Food? Icing? Sugar things? I'm confused. It's easily done, I know.
So, making full use of having a vehicle at our disposal this weekend we went to Chislehurst Caves in Kent. They are man made, so we knew they were never going to be quite as spectacular as natural caves, but even so it's lovely to have been.
The caves were used during the war to house about 15,000 people. There was even a hospital set up down there.
People would work the mine's for flint. And the points they would make out of the flints would be called Naps. And they would have a little sack to put them in so they didn't lose them. These poor people were working by candle light. So now you know where the term Napsack comes from.
This isn't an old carving, a young lady did this in the caves as a thank you to the workers there whilst she was studying. It represents good and evil.
This is a little pond/pool in the caves, it used to be a lot deeper but during the war when they had children staying there they blocked most of it off so that there wouldn't be any little accidents. When they dredged it they found the skeleton of a lady, thought to be one of the workers wives. They will never know if she jumped or if she was pushed.
But this adds to the mystery and the ghost stories about the caves. Once upon a time a competition was open to anyone to spend 12 hours down there sat by the pool with just some candles and flask of tea for company. Hardly anyone managed to stay down there.
And this is the resident ghoul. There was even a prison and a mini court set up in the caves.
This was one of those books that leapt out at me from the bookshelf. The cover felt inspiring. But I love water so that’s no surprise. I struggled to get into the book during the first chapter but I thankfully persevered and feel my efforts were rewarded.
The story is about love. But it focuses more on the love between a mother and her son, yes there are romantic relations in this book too but they are more about giving the characters depth, backgrounds and futures.
John is a child full of energy and mischief and noise. Joan is a lady of much beauty, her life is made quite easy by her beauty. The main subject is one that is quite horrifying though.
On John’s 13th birthday his Mother suggests a trip to London to buy him his first pair of ‘proper’ jeans. What should’ve been a lovely day out changes their lives for ever. Joan, takes a wrong turn in the car. One simple little misjudgement and their lives are changed. That alone makes me stop and think for a while,
Whilst taking this wrong turn they end up parking in a car park they may not have used otherwise. As they start to leave the car a bomb explodes.
John is plunged into an unknown world where he will stay, a world of not being able to hear.
Joan has her face disfigured so horribly that people don’t want to look at her, she doesn’t really want to look at herself.
The story that follows goes back and forth between the accident and the present day. Exploring both characters feeling and emotions. How things change between them. How their lives change and how they change as people and what happens to them on the journey of life.
The book opens up thoughts and feelings that you hope never to have to worry about. It’s emotional from start to finish. Sometimes sad, sometimes crushing but above all heart warming.
Well, OK, so it's not. But it is getting scarily close. But I wasn't feeling Christmassy at all. Then I had a day out with my best friend........and we ended up on Bond Street.....and now I feel super Christmassy.
This man might need an explanation. He is always there playing this cone, but yesterday he was playing Christmas songs....it does sound remarkably like a trumpet and I think he deserves his 5 seconds of fame for it.
My friend Kelly sent me a message today with a couple of you tube links to it.......I thought I'd copy it out as it really shocked me that people do this and think it's ok and some of the really lame/lazy responses to the videos as well.
This is Kelly's message:
"Ok – really wish I hadn’t decided to look for these clips…there is no way I could do this!! It would be like me pulling a fish out of our tanks and eating it! I had to look away when she finally pulled it out and then to dip it in something red!! Looks even more macabre! I REALLY wanted her to choke on it! Read the views of the d*ckhead too!!
and this is what I was telling you about – they beep fry it’s body just long enough so it still stays alive! Couldn’t watch it past the first couple of pokes it had to endure coz I nearly burst into tears!
MAKES ME F*C*ING SICK TO MY STOMACH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"
And there end's Kelly's message. I gritted my teeth and I watched the two videos.
"Wow the people’s responses are totally messed up!
It’s sick and disgusting because we are human and we have a conscience. Lions and things eat for survival and they kill quickly. They don’t leave a fish out on a plate to suffocate in a drawn out manner, whilst slowly having bits torn off them or constantly harrassed by two pieces of wood, dropped and then put into sauce that would burn their eyes out whilst they are alive....and that's all before anything bites them.
People do care about people dying – put up a video of a small child slowly being eaten alive and see the reaction.
They are being thick and stupid.
She doesn’t look comfortable eating those wiggling fish and neither should she.
Ignoring everything about morals for a moment if you will but an animal dying in such a way is going to be releasing so many stress hormones which the ‘human’ will then be consuming – and that alone is really bad for you.
So - there was a competition running that I entered but didn't win - but remember what I said about the journey.......anyway - you were given a picture and you had to write a 100 word story about the picture.
I love to be near water. Crave it even. Mommy went away not long after that photo was taken. Went to heaven, I was told. I told everyone that Mommy was an angel. Went on holiday, came back without a Mommy. Not the best souvenir. Each time I look at where the sea meets the sky with the warm glow of the sun spreading out across the waves, I think of my Mommy, I look at the twinkle and it makes me think of her eyes. The waves break up the reflection I wave goodbye with my heart again warmed.
A Moment of Madness
What have I done! I had it all and now? It’s in tatters! ‘It’ being my life of course! The grand ballroom is a mess. Papers, glasses, books strewn around me. The glorious chandelier is hanging precariously. Michael was here ten minutes ago. Now he’s gone. For good! It looks like the aftermath of a party in here. This hangover is going to last for years. One stupid mistake! That’s all it was. Does that make it better? Worse? Michael said it was worse. To ruin ‘us’ over something meaningless. The fight that followed was intense. Almost erotic. But now……..over!
It glitters and sparkles, it looks like magic, maybe it is. I guess nature is quite magical if you bother to notice it! You have to believe to see. You really almost do – or just be alive or with it enough to know there is more to life than just having your eyes open. Don’t just look, but really see! It’s like don’t just breathe because it’s the natural thing to do – breathe in a way that makes you feel alive.
Then I say that about everything. Don’t let life happen to you – make it happen. Take life by the horns and dance with it. Remember the journey is as important, if not more important than the end result.
Looking out the window at the sparkles – it makes me think all of this. But what am I really looking at? Are you thinking I’ve gone mad? Not believing that the world can sparkle? Well you might be wrong you know. Look out there…….that’s all I am doing.
There are seeds and leaves falling from trees, they are on the start of a new journey. They are falling to the ground. Some will grow. Some will get trodden on. Some will get swept up and some will just fly away. If you take a picture it almost looks like things flying up from the floor, like their little live sin rewind. The air is damp and the sun is shining, making them glow, making them dance and sparkle.
It made me think of all of this. That one picture. But I guess you could just see leaves falling from trees………..but where is the fun in that!!!
There was that noise again, a little clatter in the pantry and the ridiculously loud whisper of someone, no, more than just someone, at least two somebody’s, whispering, giggling and making far more noise in the process.
For ages I thought it was my daughter, but now I am not so sure.
She’s a child that believes. You know what I mean. She believes in the fairies at the bottom of the garden. She believes in ghosts like Casper. She believes her toys come to life when she closes her eyes at night. She spends hours looking for signs of them all. I too did that as a child. I wonder when I stopped believing. To be honest, I don’t think I ever did. I still like to think of all those magical things like wishing on rainbows, unicorns and, well you know the stuff.
I charged to the pantry but there was no one there.
‘Becky?’ there was no response from my daughter.
I ran upstairs and there she was, sat quietly on the rug on her bedroom floor with her dolls out all around her.
‘Where you just in the pantry Becky?’
‘No Mommy, it wasn’t me. It was the fairies.’
I crept back downstairs, straining to hear if there was anymore noise from the pantry. As I got into the kitchen I could see the pantry door was open. I was sure I had left it shut. I waited for a moment and ran over, pulling the door wide. I saw a flash or light, almost like a little sparkle of glitter. Then nothing. No sound. No movement. Maybe it was me being hopeful, or my aging eyes playing tricks on me.
I suddenly felt a breeze ripple through my hair, and what was that? A giggle? It sounded like the tinkling of teacups far off in the distance. I smiled to myself.
Later in the day Becky asked to go out and play. I watched her take her dolls down to the bottom of the garden, playing in the flowerbeds and making them fly. I went out to listen. There is nothing like hearing a child’s make believe games. The fun, the inspiration, the pure not caring about being self conscious. I strained to hear her so I didn’t have to get so close. She sounded like she was having a proper conversation.
I walked closer. Becky jumped and turned around. ‘Mom, you made them go away, you can’t do that, you have to stay away, they say that adults don’t believe so they won’t show themselves on princ….on prinsi…oh I don’t know the word that they said Mommy.’
I looked at Becky and looked hard into the flowers, willing myself back to being a child and fully believing. Could that be? Could it be a little pair of eyes looking back at me? I blinked and looked again. Nothing!
I gave up and went inside.
Teatime passed with nothing unusual and it wasn’t until it was bed time that Becky seemed to act slightly strange. She was all giggles and jumpy and constantly looking over my shoulder. Each time I turned round there was nothing there, and she’d just giggle. I even tried to catch sight of what was going on in the mirror behind me, but I couldn’t see anything. I took Becky’s hand.
‘Becky, who are you looking at?’ Becky just looked at me and giggled.
I gave up and decided to get an early night. I was almost asleep when I could hear the noise of teacups clinking again. I opened one eye. I sat bolt upright and turned on the lamp. Becky was sat on the floor smiling at me. Was it her? Did she wake me? Was I just dreaming? Fairies only exist in a childhood imagination. In the morning I woke up and got dressed. I went out side to collect the milk and there in the garden were tiny little footsteps, and there was that noise again, the tinkling of little teacups.
I was definitely going insane, but if my world of insanity was filled with fairies then it wouldn’t be so bad.
So someone very dear to me is away right now. Searching to help his family. It doesn't always go so well. But that's families right? I heard the other day that it's just the other side of love when families fall out or row. What does that mean? To me the other side of love is hate, but I am sure that is not what 'they' are meaning by that statement. Do they mean that if you love then you have to go through the fall outs too? Well yes I suppose you do to a degree, and maybe fall outs with family members are bigger and huger and the cuts run deeper because family can get away with things that other people would never be able to do.
What makes us get on with others? You know how you choose your friends but you can't choose your family? Well, I personally disagree. A friend said that when you live in London your friends become your family in a way that doesn't happen elsewhere. I think this is because London can be a cold lonely place, despite all the people - or maybe because of. I think life chooses your friends. I have hung out with people that bring out my bad side - I seem to gravitate, sorry scratch that, I seemED to gravitate to such people - then things kept happening that would keep me further and further from them and push me more towards my more sensible friends. Don't think I mean boring by sensible - you only need to scratch the surface of anyone to find that little devil inside, you've just got to care to look.
I wondered if those that have a great home life are the ones that are content to have a couple of friends to see them through life, and maybe those that don't get on with their family are the ones that are always searching for more friends, always counting friends, no figure is ever enough.
Someone once said that they had enough friends thanks very much. That statement still really freaks me out. I don't think you should really search out friends as I believe the right people gravitate towards each other eventually.
I don't think there is many or actually anyone in this world I hate. I hate certain human qualities and I can think of one person in this world that doesn't deserve my pee pee if they were on fire, but, that's not the same as hate. Hate is wasteful. So............thinking back to my last post about Linda's book, that is a family whose emotion flipped to the other side of love in the form of incest between a brother and sister, so can that also flip to a murder or something between a brother and sister, or is that too violent a flip? But what makes you love or hate? There is a very fine line between the two but also a world of difference?
And why is this world so filled with hatred today? Why are people so angry? Why are so many good deeds seen as trite? Why did I see in the paper that some 15 year old boy had been battered in a way that took surgeons 3 days to put him back together, internally I wonder how long it will be for him to feel put back together, do you think he ever will? His life changed forever. For a mobile phone and £5 thanks to some 'hoodies' with baseball bats and god only knows what else. Why? When did they get so angry that everyone is to blame? Why can't they see that the buck stops with them - that they are the ones that can bring about a change in their circumstances for the better, and a little hint - beating up a kid in overpoweringly huge numbers with weapons is not really the way to go about bringing yourself a better life......oh yeah it made them a whole phone and £5's richer..................do I need to make a comment further on that one? Nah, I didn't think so.
So what causes that level of hatred?
Why can't we all just remember to be a little nicer, that just one smile can light up the world.
I get laughed at for always having my head in the clouds and for wishing on rainbows but honestly - it's nicer here - you should all try it!