Welcome to my blog. A proud mother of nine, grandmother of twenty two and great grandmother of two. Faith, Freedom, family, friends, fun and food are important to me, not necessarily in that order, and it shows in my writing, I'm sure. Please comment on anything that interests you and if there's anything you would like to see let me know. Write a piece to be posted on my blog - stories of grandparents would be great.
Walking in the front door, she picked up the post and her
gaze went straight through to the kitchen, to the sink, piled high with dishes,
the sound of a plop from the tap , mirroring the drip from the overflowing sink onto
Oh my goodness, she thought, I’ve only been away two nights helping Sarah with the new baby he
could at least have the kitchen tidy for when I get back.
Turning the tap off she went to take her bag up the stairs
wondering where he was and deciding that he was probably with his mates down at
Wearily, she climbed the stairs, glad to have time to
herself so they didn’t have a row about his lazy behaviour, which she was just
not up for today.
“That bloody man, left the ruddy toilet for me as well,” she
said out loud, as a strange smell caught her unawares at the top of the stairs.
In their bedroom she stared in disbelief as she saw her husband
lying there and going over to him found
his cheek ice cold to her touch.
“That was so good. We should do it
more often,” Paul smiled, raising his glass of red wine, clinking it with his
wife’s, “cheers love.”
“Yes, we will, we will,” Lucy hoped she wasn’t over enthusiastic in agreeing. She looked around at dirty plates, waning candles
- evidence of their special Valentine’s Day meal and she didn’t look forward to
another effort so soon. All she could think
of was being with Josh.
“Look, there’s a chocolate left, you
have it dear,” leaning across the table he handed her the heart shaped box.
“No, it’s for you, you have it,” her eyes
held his in a warm, knowing gaze as she pushed it back to him. How could she love
both at the same time? And when she was with one, always wanting to be with the
other? But that’s the way it was. He was speaking again.
“Come on, Luce, it’s coffee cream, your
favourite.” he took it out of the box and tenderly offered it to her. She didn’t
take it. He put it on her side plate.
“ I want you to have it,” she said, “
you always let me have the last one. It’s your turn. And I won’t hear another
word about it.” She picked up the plate and placed it in front of him. She
tried to be a good wife. And she did love him.
A heart shaped chocolate was such a little renunciation compared to all
the times she had been too distracted with Josh to even get his dinner on
time. Even now she wondered how he was.
Was he pining after her like she was him.
“Shall we sit on the sofa?” his soft
words coaxed her and his arm reached out for hers. “We’ll sort it out like when we were
courting. You remember?” She wasn’t quite sure she did. He took the
plate with him.
“ Mmmm,” sighing she slumped down next to him.
“Here,” looking into her eyes he bit the
chocolate in two. He ate one half. The other he slowly, seductively eased into
her mouth, “share and share alike, that’s what I say, just like the old days.” He
moved his hand from her mouth to her cheeks and to her eyes, that touch of his
that always sent waves through her body making her feel fluttery and thrilled at
the same time.
“How long have we got?” he drew her
“She said she’d have him all night as
long as he slept.”
“He’ll be fine then.” He pulled her off the sofa, “He’s over a year and
your mother’s good with him. Let’s go...” and taking her hand, he climbed the
stairs ahead of her.
Just to say, the visits to my blog have just gone past 27000. Thank you loyal followers . And all those who write such encouraging messages either on the blog itself or on facebook or google, know that you give me the greatest lift when I read your words.
Our Daily Bread
She whispered a prayer to herself, Give us this day our daily bread, as she put one foot in front of the other, covered head bent against the wind.
The baby on her back was hungry and whimpering whilst the toddler stumbling beside her battled the mud in his bare feet, hardly able to keep going
Her home a heap of rubble, her husband killed, Maria with hundreds of others, now headed for Calais, where they hoped to find shelter and safety.
She repeated her prayer many times as each mile they went seemed more difficult and all she wanted to do was stop and rest, but she had to go on.
Every night the whole group would huddle together for warmth and some would go and beg for food if they were near a village, sometimes coming back with a meager portion to share between them.
On the last day Maria was cheered because the weather had picked up, and when they got to the camp volunteers came out to meet them and greeted them warmly, giving them a meal, clean clothes and shelter, for now....
6th Feb 2017 Coastal Walk from Herne Bay to Margate - 13 miles.
We sat on a stone seat just before Birchington, about five miles into our walk, to have a coffee. I was not sure that I could carry on and was working out in my mind how far we were from the nearest train station.
My feet were sore and I was convinced that if I went much further I'd get blisters.
However after a warm drink and a rest I was revived and decided to go on if my husband wanted to. The previous three miles had been tough - the open sea with wind almost picking you up off the ground added to the thought of another three hours to go . But he was up for it so off we went.
Now all we needed was to find the toilets. Birchington turned out to be further on than we'd thought. No toilets to be seen .
About half an hour later, we found some
at West Bay. I would not have used them had I not been desperate.
It was a spur of the moment decision to do a practice walk last Friday and it took a while to get ourselves out of the house. Although the sun was shining, the forecast for the rest of the day wasn't good. So we said we'd play it by ear.
The way to Reculver was familiar to us and there were some interesting things to see along the way, mainly little communities of dog walkers. The humans standing in a huddle with their "friends" while all their the canine pets ran about, happy to be out. And people taking their leave saying " Got to go, see you tomorrow. Hope Jinny feels better, give her my love", at which point they all decide to disperse. Yes, a proper unified group.
It's true what they say, if you move to a new area, you either need a new baby or a dog to make friends. People speak to you if you have one or the other. Having had children around me for many years, it seems to me that the dog option is preferable for that.
So we said goodbye to Reculver and after a while trod uncharted territory - well, for us anyway. We prayed as we went along silently and also did the rosary. This will be part of our Camino later.
Just further along in West Bay we came to a cafe . A beautiful spot where people were eating lunch and enjoying the sheltered bay to get a bit of warmth from the sun.
We find a spot on the wall near the cafe and sit down to have another coffee. Hubby gets out his sketch book and we while away a half hour or so, watching people coming and going . Here is hubby with cafe in the background . You can just see his sketch book.
And here is what he was looking at.
And so, we're off again. And it seems to be bay after bay, in and out of the shade and on and on.
Walking has a meditative effect after a while and you just keep putting one foot in front of the other. And as you do your senses start to pick up the natural world around you . You become aware of the whooshing in and out of the sea, of the gulls squawking, and when the path takes you a little way off from the sea, of crickets in the grass and the sweet sound of the more delicate smaller birds.
The rythym takes over and you give way to it.
At last we see a view of Magate. And we keep walking. And walking . The white boxlike building that is the Turner Centre gets no closer it seems.
five hours later ( should have been four by our calculations, but at least it wasn't six) we get there. I am so chuffed we made it .
Are we glad to get the train back to Herne Bay and walk the final mile home.
When we do our Camino this will be the daily length of our walk - or even a little bit further. More practice is needed , I think.
Hi everyone I'd like to share something with you, not because the word for the six sentence challenge this week is "share" but because it's good writing and will resound with a lot of you mums out there. It's my daughter's blog. She has only just started but her writing is brill. Hope you agree.
Please read and comment
Also , here's this week's six sentence challenge :
Di walked slowly into the beautifully decorated hall, her eyes scanning the roomful of noisy, happy people for the couple whose 25th wedding anniversary the celebration was for.
She nearly didn't come, knowing how difficult it would be to face John with his wife after having spent the last year or so being his confidant, listening to his "my wife doesn't understand me" stories, but as Debbie and John were her good friends she didn't want to let them down and found herself edging closer to where they were, surrounded by friends and family.
She had loved John, without him ever guessing, since her first week with Bolings Solicitors, so when John came to her after work one evening and asked if he could share some secrets with her, she knew immediately that she had to make the decision whether to encourage his disillusionment or to give him back his marriage.
As he hugged his wife close he spotted Di coming towards them and gave her a wink, a wink that said "thank you for today" , a wink she hoped nobody else had spotted .
She smiled back, deeply happy for them both but empty inside, remembering how conscientiously he'd followed her advice that it was the little things that mattered , like putting the bin out, listening to her tell about her day, cooking her a meal and putting a candle on the table, and making time for her, to really love her.
Staring at Tamara sitting quietly, playing with a jigsaw puzzle, Tracy asked Lisa what she had given her.
Although it was said in jest, seeing her daughter calm and happy just made her feel more inadequate as a mother.
Tracy had decided it would be easier to go back to work than wear herself out trying to cope, by herself, with her hyperactive daughter.
Finding Lisa was easy and although she assured Tracy that, having had five children of her own, she would have no problem with three year old Tamara, Tracy was not convinced.
But now, as she walked home in the rain, she struggled with feelings of failure , overwhelmed her, even though in her work she was a respected, highly motivated professional.
She might well be able to hold her own in a firm of solicitors, but what good was that when, in the one area of her life that mattered to her most, she felt completely out of her depth.
The fire, the music, the variety of other customers, were all most welcome after our hour long walk to Reculver in the biting cold. Even the coffee was reasonable and not Costa, which was it's overriding good point. We sat and relaxed, me observing and listening, and my other half sketching the regulars at the bar. Later we discussed how they might be able to afford to prop the bar up , buying rounds for their friends and doing the same again the next day. Most ordinary people couldn't manage it. So we thought maybe we were in the company of lottery winners or people with inheritance left them or maybe even bank robbers.
24th Jan 2017
We'd planned our walk as part of our practice for walking the Camino Way, which we hope to do this summer We want to be fit enough to do the 500 (I think) odd miles over six weeks.
And we do need lots of practice.
We are thinking of walking from Herne Bay to Margate in the near future and getting the train back. That would be a four hour walk - more than we've completed so far.
But apart from all that there is the fact that we really enjoy the walking. Being out together, chatting as we go along, spotting things along the way.
There is something that touches the spirit too. Hard to put into words.
And isn't the world full of dog walkers. You feel a bit strange just walking for the sheer pleasure of it.
Anyway, I'll keep you posted.
If you've done the Santiago de Compostella Pilgrimage I'd certainly like to hear from you.
Also, if you intend to do it - especially this summer.