Monthly Archives: March 2013

Out of the Mouthes of Babes – Easter

“Why is it called Good Friday?”, asked SC this morning whilst he was eating his breakfast.easter

“I don’t know darling,” I answered, “It doesn’t seem a Good Friday really, seeing as it’s the day Jesus was killed!”

“But, mummy,” he replied, “Jesus was happy to die, because he died for us.”

“Yes, but why did he die for us?” I asked.

A moment’s silence.

“I don’t know mummy.”

“I’ve got a good idea,” said I, “why don’t you ask your school teacher why it’s called Good Friday, and whilst you’re at it, ask her why it’s called Easter!”

Time passes, and SC is sitting in the bath.

“I know why it’s called Good Friday mummy,” he says, “it’s because that’s what they decided to call it!”

“I see, and is that what your teacher told you?”

“Yes, mummy.”

So, a not really helpful answer from the faith school (I could have come up with that one myself), and my question still remains unanswered.

Why is it called Good Friday and why is this period called Easter?

And whilst we’re at it, why do we say Happy Easter?

Answers gratefully received.

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Bath -v- Shower. Which do you prefer?

Much as the thought of a deep, hot, luxurious bubble bath, dimmed lights, soft music and lighted scented candles is appealing in the relaxation stakes.bubblebath

In reality, I would probably last less than 5 minutes before I got bored.

I can never seem to relax in a bath. I’ve always found them very uncomfortable, my neck always starts to ache, and I end up feeling more tense.

I am not one of these people who could lie in them for hours reading the latest chic-lit whilst slowly turning into a prune!

I also never feel clean after a bath and have to have a shower afterwards!

So, for me, I have to say I’m a shower girl.

I feel more relaxed being able to stand underneath running water – almost as if I can feel the stresses and strains of the day running down the plug-hole too – and I find it a perfect place to think!

And the more powerful the shower the better 😉

Which do you prefer?

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Top 3 Childhood Memories

What are the things that you fondly remember from your childhood?childhood memories

The thought struck me the other day as I was in the supermarket and saw Soreen Malt Toastie Loaf. Total flashback. I loved this as a child and remember how always, no matter how long you’d kept the loaf in the fridge or bread bin, that when you went to cut a slice the loaf squeezed down to a nanomillimetre square!

So my first childhood memory has to be Soreen Malt Loaf spread with butter. Yes, butter, none of that terribly healthy and good for your cholesterol low-fat spread.

My second memory was helping my mum making cakes and then being able to lick the spoon with the remnants of the unmade cake mixture.

Did it matter one iota that it had a raw egg in? No. The egg scare hadn’t happened then. I wonder what would happen today if children were allowed to do that?

But my favourite childhood memory has to be that of my beloved grandfather’s carrots.

He was a nursery-man and had a garden as long as a football pitch (not as wide though) and every inch of it was dedicated to growing vegetables. You name it, he grew it!

He kept onions in tights in his shed, along with sackfuls of potatoes. Cabbages, cauliflowers and other staple vegetables were plentiful. Picked, cooked and served when required.

But the best thing was always going over and helping him dig carrots out of the ground, washing them under some water and then eating them. Nothing will ever come close to beating that taste.

My dad, has not inherited the gardening genes, and carrots grown in our vegetable plot tend to be very tiny! SC and I on the other hand love getting grubby in the garden and have decided that this year we will take on the vegetable patch and I hope that the gardening genes have only skipped 1 generation!

In this day and age of technology it saddens me to think that some children will not have innocent happy childhood memories to look back on, but I hope I can make some for SC 😉

 

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Do you believe in angels?

I do.

I believe in fairies, magic, angels and guardian angels.

Whether this be a guardian angel or a spirit guide, or indeed whether these are one and the same, I believe we all have someone watching our backs, looking over us, and somehow guiding us along the path to our rightful destiny.

I like to think that when we shuffle off this mortal coil we do go to a better place, I just don’t get that at the end that’s it! I know our physical self will be worn out, but our souls are not a physical matter, what happens to them?

I believe in reincarnation, I believe our souls are reborn and continue their journey. And with every life we learn from mistakes made in past lives.

I also believe in soul-mates. And maybe we go searching through several lifetimes before we meet them. But I believe when 2 souls meet and its meant to be, you feel a deep connection without really knowing why and it’s like … magic!

I believe in magic! Not pulling rabbits out of hats type magic, but natural magic. Wonders of the earth and environment that you can’t explain. Magic in a good way 😉

I believe in fairies and fairy lore. I believe that like angels, fairies help guide us along the right path.

But most of all I believe in life 😉

I saw this quote the other day on a frame in a shop and thought it most beautiful:

stars

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How Men & Women Think!

I got sent this and thought it very amusing 😉

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WOMAN’S DIARY

28 July 2007 Saturday

Saw him in the evening and he was acting really strangely.

I’d been shopping in the afternoon with the girls and was a bit late meeting him. I thought it might be that.
The bar was really crowded and loud, so I suggested we go somewhere quieter to talk.
He was still very subdued and distracted so I suggested we went somewhere nice to eat.
All through dinner he just didn’t seem himself – he hardly laughed and didn’t seem to be paying any attention to me or to what I was saying, I just knew that something was wrong.
He dropped me back home and I wondered if he was going to come in. He hesitated but followed.
I asked him what was wrong, but he just half shook his head and turned the television on.
After about ten minutes of silence I said that I was going upstairs to bed. I put my arms around him and told him that I loved him deeply. He just gave a sigh and a sad sort of smile.
He didn’t follow me up immediately but came up later and, to my surprise, we made love – but he still seemed distant and a bit cold.
I cried myself to sleep. I think he’s planning to leave me. Maybe he’s found someone else.

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MAN’S DIARY

Saturday 28 July

United lost.

Gutted.

Got a shag though!

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

Goodness! No wonder research has discovered that women use many more words, and talk more than men 😉

Although she does sound a bit needy to me!

I would have thought he’d had a bad day at the office and will tell me as and when he decides to come out of his cave, if he wants to – doesn’t mean I wouldn’t care that he was sad. I certainly wouldn’t think he was planning to leave though!

I firmly believe that a trouble shared is a trouble halved, and sometimes when we get stressed about anything, it can help to have someone to talk too. Even if they can’t help with the problem, at least you don’t feel as if you are carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders.

That’s why communication with partners is, in my opinion, vital for a healthy relationship.

We all need our own “cave time” occasionally, but if both sides knows that the other is there and will always listen with an open mind and heart should it be necessary, then silly little things will never get blown up out of all proportions.

 

 

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You sir! What’s the Bleeding Time?

“About 10 past 10 sir!” is the reply, in one of my favourite films, Doctor in the House.

But in my case it is currently standing at nearly 14 days….

The first 12 were seriously light, non-significant and nothing to write home about…until yesterday evening. Now it’s getting heavier, and I have tummy ache ;-(

Would someone pass a hot water bottle please?

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March 11, 2013 · 7:29 pm

Comfort Food

You know, the kind of food that makes you feel better if you’re having an off-day.

Obviously, as I don’t do chocolate it’s not that.cake

So what’s your comfort food?

Mine really depends on the level of my ‘off-ness’!

See today, just feeling a little bit low – cold (still haven’t defrosted from this morning’s school run), worried (nothing unusual there then) and just a bit off – I’m in a “I can’t be bothered to cook” mood. So when I’m having one of those days, my comfort food is cheese on toast with baked beans – reminds me of childhood 😉

Generally, I go for savoury ‘pick-me-ups’ – Marmite cashew nuts, salty crackers and the like.

But sometimes, just sometimes, it’s just got to be cake!

The ‘gooier’ the better!

Carrot cake with frosting or coffee cake (hold the walnuts though). Cupcakes work too 😉

I’m thinking I’m going to be needing cake soon 😉

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Warning: Allergy to Chocolate

Seriously! I have an allergy to chocolate.Chocolate

Not sure what part of the ingredient list it is, but I have just basically avoided the stuff since I was about 20, and realised it was what was making me more nuts than usual 😉

It’s not life threatening, I don’t come out in huge hives, rashes, or any other ‘normal’ allergic reaction.

Chocolate gives 99% of people a big ‘happy rush’, for me it has the opposite effect.

It literally sinks my mood completely, to the extent I could pretty much be Mr Hyde!!!

Then, it does something to all the muscles in my body, which become so incredibly tense that I cannot relax, or feel comfortable (being hyper-mobile does not help this). What then happens is I end up writhing about on the floor wanting to pretty much rip out all my joints from their sockets and put them back in, because that is the only way I would be able to feel less tense and tetchy.

It is not a pretty sight!

So I’m pretty pernickity when it comes to checking ingredients, etc.

Some seemingly innocent things can contain chocolate!

Mr Wrong No. 2 didn’t care whether he ate chocolate and then came near me (like I’d let him when I knew) and Mr Wrong No. 1 just thought I was nuts anyway!

There is only 1 person who has been sensitive and considerate enough about this matter, when I have told them.

Thankfully, this is the only serious thing that affects me.

Shellfish just makes me throw up!

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Glossing over Information

You know when you’re chatting to someone and they say something, that is incredibly significant, or important to them, and you register it, but then there’s a sense of awkwardness – should you pick up on it and ask questions? After all, they may not want to talk about it, or it may not appropriate for you to ask questions.

Then a few hours later, you wish you had, because you don’t want them to think that the information had not been received and you don’t care.

That!

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The Theatre, The Theatre…

…there’s nothing like the theatre!theatre masks

I love it!

Watching it, doing it, breathing it, sleeping it.

It’s what I do.

I’ve been involved with performing arts for as long as I can remember (and probably a good few years before that too).

My mum took me to ballet classes when I was 2½. Not because she wanted me to be the next Margot Fonteyn, but more that I had far too much energy and she thought it might burn some of it off.

But I loved it.

By the time I was 4, I was doing drama too.

My childhood was spent, literally, doing dancing competitions and dance and drama exams.

I did it because I loved it, not because I was pushed to do it like so many of my friends were. My mum always said if I didn’t like it, I didn’t have to do it. My dancing friends’ mum’s made them do it, mostly because they wanted to see their daughters succeed where they had failed.

I knew I would never be a dancer – too tall for ballet, and entirely the wrong shape – but that didn’t matter, I didn’t want to go to dancing school I was far too academic and liked studying. I just loved to dance, still do in fact. I still try to do some ballet exercise, but these days I tend to do ballroom and latin 😉

Drama, on the other hand, was a completely different kettle of fish.

Oh I loved it, and more than anything I wanted to act for a living. I did go to drama school and got a scholarship, but it was not to be – I still dream that one day Adrian Noble will spy me in a local production and ask me to be in his next production at the National. I know this will never happen, but it’s nice to dream 😉

When I was 15, I branched out and joined the local operatic society. I got to sing, dance and act, all at once in a musical (which were, and still are my most favourite of films to watch). In my twenties I joined the local acting company too.

What a thrill. I could do what I loved, do shows I’d otherwise only ever dream of doing and still go out and earn a living. And more importantly, it was fun.

The one thing that has recently come to light was a conversation I had with a couple of people about am-dram. They were of the firm belief that the only people who did am-dram were those that wanted to show-off, people who want people to look at them.

In my opinion, this is not true of everyone. Oh, I will admit there are some people who do it because they want to show-off and want attention – and in my experience these are the type of people that you see on X-Factor who think they are great, but aren’t (you know the type).

First and foremost am-dram is a hobby. Yes, it takes up a lot of time and energy, but at the end of the day it is just a hobby like golf!

And the first rule of any hobby is enjoyment.

I am not saying that the people who just do it to show-off don’t enjoy it, but that should always be the crux of doing it.

I am not one of those who does it to show-off. I do it because I love it and it’s part of who I am. Even when I haven’t been in shows, I have always been able to find something to do with performing arts.

I am happy skulking around at the back of stage in the chorus, or in a lead role. And I don’t go for leads for the glory. I go for the challenge. the challenge of getting the part and then creating a believable character, getting under their skin, and living in their world for 2 hours – or however long the play is.

And Doctor Theatre is a marvellous tonic, because for those 2 hours, I can stop having to think about my life, and live in a world of imagination and make-believe.

And if I was one of those showy-offy people I wouldn’t get quite so nervous as I do – to the point of sickness. I understand nerves are normal, and I have mechanisms for coping, i.e., doing the same thing every night before a performance, from getting to the theatre at the same time, listening to the same songs in the car, doing the same things in the same order, etc.

But I do not like people staring at me. I hate it! It makes me want to curl up and hide away.

And that’s what a lot of people don’t get, or understand. They say “how come you can go on stage wearing this and doing that, but you don’t want to stand and make a speech?”

The answer is quite simple! If I was making a speech it would be me, when I’m on stage, it’s not me!”

But when it stops being enjoyable, I stop!

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