MIRACLES DO HAPPEN or Obviously not a Gentleman !

I am inspired to write about just a touch of real Christmas Magic to my penultimate blog for 2009.

As I began winding up all my Internet stuff so I can concentrate on work and the travel ahead... I re-read 'When your homeless at Christmas' my November blog.I don't regret posting my online diary of those sad events. My landlord was a nasty piece of work, a real wolf in sheep's clothing and in my Mothers immortal words 'Obviously not a gentleman!'.

Keep reading dear reader...there is after all a little bit of Christmas Magic in the world !!!

I spent November 28th feeling desperately unhappy, terribly hurt and bewildered. My 'so nice; landlord was no longer someone I recognised, instead I had been removed without a moments consideration and without so much as a micro amount of care.

I returned from the shops to find my landlord in my home already, with a kitchen hand with him...talk about feeling threatened. demands and e mails followed making it clear he wanted me out..out...out then phone calls to the BF...oh this millionaire man was so brave...rattling his threats from a safe distance. Nasty, insidious, cruel.

The man whom I had painted a portrait of his son freely because the child is a beautiful boy, the person I had created a garden for of my own free will, because i could see he was struggling and I had the time. The man I had laughed and joked with, the person who sat in my home pouring his heart out over his girlfriend , his lifestyle, his problems with staff...no longer existed. The person I had written to Cadw in support of no longer was real;Instead 'Hidden Agenda Man' had taken his place.

Nearly at the miracles bit...honest :)

That sad day I lost someone from my life whom I had admired for his hard work and his kindness to his staff and discovered the real person and it wasn't nice. I looked bleakly ahead at a Christmas, that may well be my very last Christmas in this life time and it wouldn't be what I had hoped it would be. I would not be leaving this life with memories for my family to treasure, instead I would be homeless, living in my daughters sitting room, a burden to my family and nothing but sad thoughts and bitterness as my companion and I railed against it. I was hurt and slowly, very , very slowly I began to get angry.

I had cried myself into a fitful half sleep. Trying to hide my emotions from the old BF who is such a gentle soul . My eyes where red rimmed, my heart ached. My head pounded with my blood pressure through the roof. I took my pain killers and waited for the mini euphoria that accompanies them, (morphine and morphine substitutes have that effect) hoping they would help calm the raging emotions inside me. On and on the circle of thoughts screamed round my head.

I decided to look into my e mails, a distraction to the days bewildering fears and there was one from another landlord. I answered it in the negative, I would not be able to pen my Gallery: explaining my new situation in terse comment. Suddenly a phone call, questions and an outraged local landlord who couldn't believe what he was hearing.

My Knight in Shining Armour was on his way.

I absolutely LOVE writing this bit :_

This man has been much maligned by local gossip. A man few actually speak with. I had met and spoken to him, he was hard line legal..everything by the book...but he did have compassion. He didn't like to think of a disabled and weary woman , homeless at such a time of year.

Couldn't believe the legal implications of it all, the fact that my ex landlord would not give me my deposit back...all £500 of it. He the millionaire would not be a gentleman, would not be anything but this man, THIS man ;this Knight, made sure I had rights and made sure I was safe:-

He took his house off the sale market and made it my home for 6 months to give me time to breathe, to sort things out.

On the 1st of December I signed a new lease, a binding legal agreement. I was handed a receipt and a rent book and a key and told...move in now...be safe. It took me four days to move my things, four days of carrying, lifting and shouldering bags and boxes. Never where 4 days so filled with stress and hope in equal amounts. I scrubbed and rubbed and cleaned the old place and did the same at my new home and on the 4th of December I slept in my bed in a new home and it was wonderful.

I had dreaded this move in so many ways and for so many reasons. I loved my flat, I loved the view and the state of the art kitchen..here i had a different type of home and then I stood and looked out of the kitchen window.

Now for even more and yes I mean LOTS more Miracles :-

The picture at the top of this blog is the scene I look at every day. If you go on Flikr you will see some more images of my kitchen window views. the Castle and the sea and the Lleyn and the Snowdonia range of mountains, the Valley and the Village...all before me. All free to look at and so very beautiful.

Drawbacks ? well it costs a lot to heat big rooms and big hallways, its difficult to go to sleep early if the pubs are letting out because of course people are enjoying themselves..but its alive and honest and open and enjoyable and...I love it!

Then my Mum got in on the act...'cost a lot moving Sue , am sending you a little present' and the next day an envelope full of money, enough to fill the car with petrol...I am going to go home and see my family after all.

Then another telephone call......more work, a small contract I can fulfill in the week which will pay the rent for the new home for January..

Then another phonecall, my son has flown over from France afterall...he's a happy man, he has brought his lady to meet me. Thats a first in his long romantic career !

Then another phonecall, my youngest son, ex soldier, suffering from PTD has found a new career...he is training as a Nurse, finally moving back into the medical world where he had served honourably in his army unit before injury had him re-assigned.

Then another phonecall, my daughter had lost a great deal of finance with no hopes of it being returned.....every penny was back in her purse. She would have a proper Christmas too..last heard of SHOPPING !

Finally to this weird and magical week a beautiful letter, a picture of three of my grand daughters and news...wonderful news. My little grand daughter Katy Ann had been rushed into hospital so many times this year, had been so poorly and here was the report...2 yr old assessment...9 MONTHS in advance for her age in reading and speech and such wonderful wonderful news..Katy Ann is back on track. GREAT !

Then finally another moment to add to this great package of Christmas goodies.......my little dog doesn't have to live with my Bf instead they are both coming to live with me.


Now THAT'S a Happy Christmas

Merry Christmas to you all, may the good Christmas Spirit visit you and bring you as many Christmas Miracles as I have been fortunate enough to receive this amazing year.

Love and best wishes SusaninHarlech

Christmas, Solstice and Time

Christmas is nearly here, the new Year approaches and everyone is geared up to celebrate, or be miserable as their world demands.

2009 will no doubt go down in my memory as one of the most difficult, challenging and amazing years in my entire life ! I have moved home twice, been mentally and physically challenged with my health, met some amazing people and above all...I learned to be true to my own ethics and principles.

As a practising Shaman-Ka I live my life with the hopes of being in tune with our Mother Earth, the people I 'rub shoulders with', the animal life around me and in general try to keep a peaceful lifestyle amongst the noise and bustle of this busy world.

Living in Harlech has been a singularly wonderful experience. The small village itself is pretty and can display the most amazing amount of human emotions . i 've witnessed real passion for the heritage of this place from The Castle Harlech to the tiniest of cottages, I've been privileged to see true patriotism and equally so I have witnessed the massive change in society as a whole as young people went on a drunken rampage around the village with no thought or care for the many elderly and infirm who live here.

Equally so the challenge to my own health has caused a great deal of introspection and my thoughts have wobbled around fears and strengths until I simply accepted that I have to wait and in doing so have come to accept that if the doctors tell me I am on my way to the next realm...then I hope I manage to leave with some dignity and if the doctors say differently I am determined I will live my life to the fullest I can manage.........because I have discovered there is so much I have yet to do, yet to take on board.

In particular as the Christmas period approaches I am aware that I have not had contact with my grandchildren this year , as much as I would wish. I have missed Katy Ann and Leah's first steps, first words and first moments of Independence, something I regret deeply. I was not around to see my eldest grandchild go to her first prom night and didn't see the excitement on Bex's face as she visited Euro Disney for the first time and I do genuinely regret that too.

these are special moments I will never be able to witness again in some 'catch up' style, I didn't have the opportunity or so I thought..............but I could have done. I should have made the time..it is easy to let time become a mortal enemy.

As human beings we invented time to mark our days energies. We created clocks and calenders to make it easier to keep track of events and situations, needs and wants but we allowed time to master us and now we have lost the 'time out' that is so important to our balance. We get pushed and shoved by times need for us to keep up and to me, as I approach my middle age I can almost feel time slipping by. Wasting itself in simply passing. Not filling each minute with glorious memory but emptying my own time bank to replace it with vain regrets, might have beens, wish I hads' and moments of blankness as boredom sets in.

How can I be bored !!!! time is slipping away, I live on the coast with a glorious beach, a huge old castle, wild woodlands and forests, fields and houses that reach back into antiquity, museums and craft halls, so many wonders......and I sit at a computer typing..because I am bored...how wasteful, how very stupid...wasting times gift.

Christmas is a simple affair, a day of celebrating the birth of Christ into the world...what do humans do? spend a few hours in thankfulness ? go to Church ? pray their gratitude...erm no.......get drunk, get in debt, get into trouble, get stuffed with food, make a great fuss about presents and cost and eat far too much or drink far too much, but actually pray...no.

Christmas is also the Solstice for winter a time of looking at the past, accepting it and balancing the events remembered and celebrating the great spiral of life and welcoming the Lord of the Hunts power, the male energies and the seemingly endless cycles of the seasons. How many People of a pagan persuasion will find a hill top, a circle of stone, spend a few bitterly cold hours saying thank you in the style of their religion...precious few. A ritual in the home, with lots of drink,. lots of food and the central heating is what will happen the world over for both celebrations.

Many ceremonies are similar. The origins of the celebration all seem to be about simplicity and sharing and giving selflessly and being thankful...but time has passed. People no longer value the same things or are aware in the same ways as in the past and modern celebrations are not about giving and sharing so much as who gave to whom, how much was spent. getting the same as everyone else, being up in the list as a top party giver a great host or hostess, who was remembered on the card list and who was struck off. Your popularity marked by the amount of Christmas cards you're sent or the size of the office present you get.Even the kiddies at school are in on the act, the present bought for teacher, did you buy the headmaster or mistress a present , was your child in the school nativity and so on. It all starts so early in life so that the grabbing and selfish lifestyle has the time to develop fully for when your grown up.

So I began to write what i thought would be a Christmas message and ended on a rant...par for the course. My time this year seems to have had a lot of ranting in it. I ranted for ages about our army, navy and raf guys n gals being supported properly. I had a good old rant about Sam Hain and so on , I seem to have spent a lot of time doing little pieces for my blogs and building my websites which in a way are part of my immortality...and then there is this time right now.

What can I say that will be memorable, honest and truthful. What can i possibly say about Christmas and the Solstice that is apt and profound..I really want to say the right thing, so that in time...you will all remember my words and in so doing, remember me too.

I wish you the equal of the joys and happiness's I have experienced and none of the fears, pains or hurts. May your God and you become good friends , I wish you well.

Merry Christmas

Solstice Greetings

Merry meet, merry part and merry meet again.

May Light always find you in your darkest of hours.

I'm a Drama waiting to Happen !

My little Mum said with her wonderful insight 'Susan, your a drama waiting to happen' and I understood exactly what she meant. If it can go wrong...it will for me, if it shouldn't go right in a million years....for me...it will. If it can possibly happen to anyone at all....it will happen to me. So nine times out of ten all I ever have to get me through stuff...is faith.

For example:-

Walking to the dentist one afternoon I turned a corner and a little boy with his sister where stood crying. I didn't really see what else was going on, its a busy main road...but a child crying, I am glad to say, I would not miss. I leaned down to this young chap, about 11 years or so in age and asked what was wrong and he pointed a shaking hand over to his right...."that mans got my Mum".

Sure enough there was a man hanging onto the Post Office Door for grim death.On the other side of the door was a man in a mask and he was trying to wrench the door open.....another man was holding a woman in a threatening way.......and everything went into slow motion......

As I turned my head I realised the car which was parked alongside me and the children had a man in an 'old man mask' sat at the wheel, he had freckles on the back of his hand, the kind of freckles one associates with red hair. I looked up again, and saw people, how on earth I had missed them before I don't know but there where dozens of them...all just stood watching, no one helping the poor Postman then I realised that these men where armed and there was more than one in the post office and the little boys screams seemed to be coming from far away.

Later I realised that my adrenalin had so speeded my heart rate up that I was in the very real 'fight or flight' zone that you read about and truly, time seems to stand still and everything and everyone is in slow motion.

Something snapped inside me, I have no idea why...but I turned to the car by my side and walked ever so calmly to the front of it and read the number plate. The little boy was still screaming and the man in the car watched me then turned and said something to the child in an angry voice. I didn't hear his words, only his tone, nasty and threatening and I saw red. I thumped the bonnet of the car and angrily now stalked back to the child with the intention of moving the children and comforting them........ just as the robbers having finally dragged the door open came charging towards....'us'...

The lead man raised his hand up, he had something black and shiny in his hands and I didn't have time to check what it was (later I found out it was a police baton) he threatened the children and I still do not know where I got the courage (or maybe the foolhardyness) from I picked the little girl up and scooped her over the hedges behind her and told her to stay where she was and just had time to push the little lad behind me, I faced the angry robber, they hadn't expected so many people around I suppose, or maybe they too where charged up on adrenalin.

He now threatened me and stood towering over my five foot frame, easily six foot 2 or 3 and I was absolutely terrified. The children where howling in fear, there where people all over the place and then there was me and a robber and two little ones and he threatened the little boy who had shouted something about his Mum. From somewhere inside me the words screeched at him. "You Bastard don't you DARE hit a child "and my fists came up and I swear I would have fought with him if he had so much as flickered another eyebrow. He actually stepped back and looked straight into my eyes...there must have been something of my temper in them because.....

The scumbag jumped into the car and it drove off with a screeching tyres style racing action and everyone started shouting and police cars arrived and I held onto the little ones until a shaken Mum was allowed to leave her statement and gather her children into her arms.

Leaving my name and address...I then went to the dentists...what a moment.

Odd little moments like that have happened all through my life. I can start out with the intentions of doing something simple and everyday and 'bang' suddenly I am in the middle of an incident.

I work for myself. Years ago I had a telephone call from a chap whose daddy owns a diomond mine...yep really !!! he asked my advice and I gave it and then from out of the blue I said 'don't get on any planes to the North this week'. He rang me later that week and asked me if I meant what I said, I asked why and he said he was at the airport and had no option but to fly North and had two flights he could choose from. I gave him the flight to use. I watched the news obsessively...Lockerbie is still in my heart because to this day I know somehow I could feel there was something going to happen to a flight going North and it was that flight. I am pretty unworldly at times and didn't have enough information. the chap was extremely shaken, very glad he rang me but me...I still wish I had known how to tell someone who might have made a difference.

Walking into a Chipshop to order some food the man at the back of the queue decided he would like to hit someone...and chose me ! I hadn't even opened my mouth ...sometimes I think there is a sign over my head 'this one', anyway he came at me like a fool, my hand shot out, gripped some place around his neck and shoulder and the whole left side of his body stiffened and contorted and I frog marched him outside with a few choice words. He stood outside looking totally bewildered. I have NO idea what it was i did, if anything I'd call it the Vulcan Neck Hold and wherever the knowledge came from I am extremely grateful because the man stayed away from me, other customers and no one said anything.

I had a series of bills arrived following the closure of my business, they added up to £5,000 and I had just lost my income. I sat wondering what the hell to do when the postman delivered two large brown envelopes, one had a cheque in it for £2,000 and one had a cheque in it for £3,000

whew!!! But these are tiny things that have happened, just illustrating that my life isn't really what you could call normal.

Take this week for instance, I asked a question that seemed to unleash the very devil into my world. Simple enough, I asked when some soundproofing would be done...the landlord 'suggested' it was time I left. That was just 3 days ago, and 27 days before Christmas and my heart almost broke.

Being pro active has its benefits and it also has its detrimental side but its my nature so as I had been given my marching orders at 5pm that night I spent the entire night 'not sleeping' and the morning I spent ringing family to tell them I was homeless, and they couldn't come for Christmas and the first time in fifteen years I could have had a Christmas in my own home, with my own family was dead in the water. I felt so empty and so hurt and so frightened.

The landlord by the way wants to know if I have still fallen out with him !!!!

That to one side I had spent all Thursday morning in bits, the afternoon had the lndlord in my home when I'd gone to the shop so I feel awkward, he's barely speaking, wants to know what the BF is going to do (he has his own cottage) and I am sitting at the computer thinking what the hell can I do now? So I wrote e mails to friends 'help','house','rent' and sent them. Friday afternoon I have an e mail an appointment and a friend has answered the call....and I'm looking round a house that has me gasping with joy.

£80 cheaper a month than the flat, three times the size of it, ambient noises I've lived with all my life and above all...move in now. SAVED !!!!

I can look at being in a home for the next 6 months and relax a little. Oh sure it has drawbacks, windows being done, rendering but as I said to the new landlord...the workmen finish at 5pm in fact in this village more like 4pm...I can deal with that, I really can because its finite and pubs emptying ? it rains here in winter ......a lot ! so susre they can make a noise ....but how long for.

Me I will have somewhere to live and right now, Christmas might be poor, because all my presant money had to go on making myself a new home....but at least I have a roof over my head and that feels, well that feels good.

Faith makes it work, but the drama made it happen.

When your homeless at Christmas

I've lived in my little apartment since it first became completed. Today my landlord said he thought it was time for me to leave. Why ? because I asked when the rest of the build would be finished ie: the soundproofing between me and about 20 gambling and game machines and a busy cafe with a manageress who likes her music loud (until the boss is arriving when it mysteriously goes lots quieter).

The manageress by the way is his girlfriend...

I suppose that I am more than just a little bitter, a black hole in my head and its closing in on me. Where will I find a home so quickly, where will I be at Christmas? you see...he wants a date off me to move because he has a family to move in as soon as the place is empty. They won't care 'about a bit of noise'. I am expendable. He isn't going to do the sound proofing because he can't afford it...yet he is going to Tenerife this weekend and then to Poland with his girlfriend and then his Dad is flying out to spend Christmas with him and his son...how do I know this ? because in the same breathe he told me all this he told me to get out of his flat.


Does that sound bitter ? probably, am I bitter ? yes I am.

I can't say I am not because in the end, I truly loved living here and its breaking my heart to leave.

All of a sudden my reasonable question 'when is the sound proofing going to be done' became ' I think you need to move on' and I am homeless again.

When he had made his little statement I think I went into shock, yet the following morning (now) he has decided to shut his arcade for the winter..!!! so he couldn't say 'i'm shutting this week sue, we'll discuss it all after christmas' no he just wanted me out..

I can't explain properly how much this will make my world so different again. The holiday my daughter would have shared with me at Christmas is now finished. My son may as well stay in France he isn't going to have anywhere to stay.I won't see my little family this year I will be packing and to drive 120 miles for one day won't be possible.

I have to give my little dog whom I was gifted by my daughter only 3 weeks ago; away. Well to be honest he is going to live with my friend but i shall miss him very much, I had come to love him deeply, he was my little friend, someone to love and care for, someone to share the late evenings with.

I won't be buying Christmas gifts, I will be saving my money because I will need a deposit again and a months rent and a moving van and of course all the legal fees to move , these days its £80 just to have a search done on you to prove your a decent person who isn't going to do a runner with the rent. There won't be any change from £1200 and thats a lot of money by anyones standards.

I won't be going to Stafford to see my daughter this month, or travelling to see my Mum because of the same thing, any money I have will have to go towards finishing my lease (the one I never had given me or a rent book !) because I have council tax to pay and sort out all the other things I usually leave till the end of the year...its made me so sad.

I won't be able to earn any money to live by, I will be on whatever form of benefit it is possible to have when you are homeless because quite frankly I have looked at everything I need to do...and I can't cope with it.

To take 4000 pounds of my hard earned money, to have the indecency to place his hidden agenda before me at the very time when everyone else i the world will be celebrating...THAT hurts.

I am a nothing,

I am a no one,

I do not matter in this mans eyes at all and as a result:-

I am expendable.

I feel empty inside and all because of hidden agendas.

The sound proofing was supposed to be done in September, i could deal with that, its now the end of November.....I truly didn't think I was being unreasonable.

I feel tired and fed up and hurt and I do blame him. In my heart of hearts yes I do. I don't think he has been fair and I don't think its kind and I feel like sending him a blank card with Merry Christmas to You Too on it but he wouldn't understand. he is all excited because his dad and Son will be with him Christmas time and i am sat here, writing my bitterness out because he will be here in the morning...and I don't want to be angry and I won't let him see me cry.

So the witterings of my head are here on my blog for all the world to see....because I haven't done anything wrong...but I am paying the price of being the tenant of a self made millionaire who has forgotten that not everyone can click their fingers and re arrange their world in a moment.

Just 25 days before Christmas, and I am dreading it.

Money eases many a road to heaven or hell. Lack of money or lack of preperation is a one way street to bedlam. This situation....has broken me as nothing else has for a long time. The singer just got off the stage and Susan ....................has left the building.

Remembrance Poems

FOR THE FALLEN

by Laurenc Binyon

With proud thanksgiving, a mother for her children,

England mourns for her dead across the sea.

Flesh of her flesh they were,spirit of her spirit

Fallen in the cause of the free

Never Forgotten

For all that I had
For all that I have now lost
For the joy of you in my life
For the lessons your life has taught me
I will remember you


NEVER FORGOTTEN.

David James Jones, I miss you so much Dada, I miss your smile and your laugh and have so many beautiful memories of you. You where a good Dad, an honest and loving Dad. Miss you so very much.You taught me endurance, protection,defence and to believe in myself. Your creativity, your art, your love for us was limitless. I miss you more each year as it passes and think of you often.


David Carlton Jones, my baby Bro'. Oh Sunshine I do miss you. There are still idiots out there Bro, still carping about 'our' relationship. Idiots with no understanding 'we are blood' end of :) I will find the forest sweetheart promise...when I do then I will bring you home. I still have that letter , still have your art and your music. The heart of you is in the sounds you loved. I miss you so very much, but I am keeping to the dream bro...we'll get there eventually.


Aunt Sal,my little Auntie Sal. With your size 3 feet and the most beautiful smile. I am so touched by what was revealed to me when you had left us. I am glad your with Dad now and Grandma. I will miss you more as time goes by but keep those knees warm eh :). I hope your with Aunt Bertha and Uncle Jim, they where always so sweet. Never forgotten , remembered with love.The sweetest and most gentle of my relatives.


Great Grandma Fisher, my tiny Gran. I was too young to understand how and why you left us. Okay you where 98 years old but so full of beans Grandma, I adored you but at 11 years old my first wailing cry was that you couldn't die before my birthday...makes me smile at my young self and all that selfishness at that age. I loved the way you would look over your glasses at me....Mum does the same thing now. I can still see your face in my minds eye. I am pleased by that memory so much. Thank you Grandma, for being just who you where.Your life was a total inspiration, from your working life right through to the old Archbishop calling you a great lady...you where, you still are in my heart.


Grandad Morrison, Polish your head for sixpence Grandad ? hee hee. Miss you so much Grandad you where a gentleman. I have good thoughts of you in my mind.

Uncle Phil,you 'bugger!' what you doing eh? still trying to escape ? even heaven ? haha , oh Uncle Phil I know so much more about you now, I wish we could have talked more, your stories always did fill me with delight. Love you, you divil. I was amazed when I discovered how much you had been decorated in the war, you had us all in stitches time and again...but you never spoke of the dark things you survived. I know your son is with you now Uncle Phil. May you have found your peace now my dear man.

Aunt Freda. I know you are happy now Aunty Fre. Your with your beloved and that's truly all you really wanted I know. I know you can see the truth too...so I hope you can chat to your granddaughter and heal the wounds.

Aunt Peggy, You where the first person I ever knew and loved to die. I know your with Alf now and I understand how painful your life was but I still remember my honey butty :) Your daughter is one of the most truly beautiful women I have ever met. As beautiful inside as she is outside. I love her very much and her family.I am so grateful to you, you inspired me to cope with so much. I never heard a moments whining from you, wheelchair or not, you carried on and smiled.

Uncle John.sorry Uncle John but you really did remind me of Arthur Askey...except you where a gentleman to the core, very much like Grandad. I remember the one armed sofa with gleeful mischief...you certainly had a sense of humour.

Aunt Peg, well I finally met you and Aunt Clara and Aunt Joan. Dads little sisters. I still remember each of you and Valerie. All gone on but each of you told me of Dad as a child, you gave me insight to the complexity and the loving heart of my Dad. Good thoughts and pleasant memories. I can see you all in my minds eye, you always held Dad in good thought and I love that you loved him so. I know when you all finally got to see Grandma again you would have rejoiced , I am pleased for you all.

Grandma Jones I never met you. I know you where a Book Binder and very poorly, I know Grandad was not an ideal man but I also know you loved and loved with all your heart. I revere your memory and your lineage. One day I will go back to Tryffannon and find my roots I promise.

I remember Grandad Jones, I remember you old man, I remember and one day we will meet again...I look forwards to it, I hope you have found forgiveness and understanding. I hope Grandma has forgiven you old man. I have yet to do so. It is a difficult journey but I will keep trying. You taught me a thing or two just by being who you where, but I remember .We will meet one day, we have things to sort out between us. As to you Uncle Billy, you there old man ? whatever went on between you all is over now, I hope you and Dad found your peace and I hope you can find forgiveness to Grandad for his ways.

There are other things crowding into my mind now, thoughts and memories, hopes and dreams, fears and hurts all jumbled together.

You where my family, I loved each of you with all my heart. As a child you cared for me, defended me, loved me unconditionally. As an adult you where my inspiration, my guides and my true friends. We have suffered much between us yet the joys of you in my life is worth the pain I feel of your loss for without you I would have been so much the poorer.


If I could bring you all home to me again I would do so. Many of us miss each and every one of you for so many reasons, mostly the simple fact we loved you. Yet we cannot bring you home to us except in memory.

I remember my cousin, only a babe in arms burned to death in a caravan fire and her sister killed in a road accident. Your parents loved you and where affected by your loss in their lives so deeply. I can imagine no pain worse than being forcibly held back from going to try and rescue an infant and having to watch with and listen with horror to their death. My heart goes to your parents and to you for such a cruel demise.The pain spread across us all. I missed knowing either of you and yet feel that connection and have love for you all.

I remember Claire who at 7 years of age crossed the road without looking and died instantly. Your death affected all of my family from the smallest child to us, the parents. Rest in peace love.

I remember Roger dying sandwiched between the bodies of his parents as they tried to protect him from the raging inferno of an aeroplane crashed on the runway. David in particular was deeply affected by the death of his friend. Found together you are in spirit together.

I remember little Emma, dying in a smoke filled room, just four years old. I remember your smile my little friend.I feel privileged to have known you, to have seen you the night before you left us. keep dancing my little ballerina, keep dancing and smiling that beautiful smile.

I remember Jackie , just seventeen and lost so easily,your loss in our lives touched us deeply. I will always remember you dancing, your lovely eyes lit up with laughter. Goth and proud of it.We shared our pain my little friend, John and John crying for so long, Joanne still hurting for your loss. We smile at your memory my dear girl.

I remember Jeff (Geoff) such a loving heart who made a sacrifice few would understand but I remember you with pride my friend.Your parents where devastated, your sisters so devoted, so hurt. The poem they wrote for you is still with me. I love your picture. I think of you often. I haven't forgotten what you asked of me love, if i can, I will do what you asked.

I remember Lynne my friend and guide when I began Nursing all those years ago and later a true friend as a young mother...how tragic the loss of you is, how sad and how I do regret having lost touch with you my dear girl. I will always remember 'that' frock and our night at Wigan Casino...thank you for that friendship, those kind and honest words.

I remember Jan so bright, so bubbly, always living at breakneck speed, always so vibrant. I miss your smile, I miss your humour.At least you left us memorably Jan, but it was a shock to lose you in our world.

I remember my cousin Jack who has lost his lovely wife and both of his sons in tragedy and who has now, after many years found happiness once again. Though I never met your lost family I pay my respect to your loss and your new found joy. She can never take the place of those who have gone before us, but she can and does ease the pain and the loneliness with her loving heart.


There are those I remember such as Sue, a lovely lass, my school friend, gone in the blink of an eye with still so much to give. How extraordinary that we met forty years after school and had such a lovely afternoon together, gone within weeks of that I treasure the memory very much.


I remember my neighbour Peter whose death was a dreadful agonising travesty. I do not regret my part in your world and remember you and your lady wife with great fondness. Your kindness and your dignity are remembered and your determination not to let your wife see the agony you where in is something I will never forget. Your lady wife, gloves and hat :) I remember fondly.

I remember Mr and Mrs Twist, there are uncomfortable and hurtful thoughts here but I honour your memory for there where times when we where good neighbours .

I remember my old friend Mrs Farnhall, oh you did delight in the goings on in the street. Your bed stood in state in the living room bow window. I remember Mrs Farnall "I'm being candid" and I remember Moira with her wonderful letters I have kept them, and the cards and so many kindnesses and consideration. Sadly missed and gratefully remembered both of you.

I remember not the name, but the sound of a mans voice on an aeroplane...'right men, lets rock and roll' he gave his life and those of his fellow passengers in true sacrifice. His death reminds me that sometimes it is a life given willingly for the good of others.

I remember the sound of the Chinese man who had telephoned his wife to say he loved her, was dying on a sandbank on the very shores of England, a poor man who worked all the hours he could to send home money to his very poor family...betrayed by one of his own countrymen he drowned.Many of his countrymen drowned too. I remember this with great sadness for them all.
I remember the horror of the Tsunami and finding myself with a lovely family the Plevins, instead of drunkenness and silly games on a New Years Eve the head of the family Russ asked us all to think of those who had lost their lives and I remember being touched by his simplicity and the sharing of that moment for all those people who had died.

I remember my childhood days with joy, free, English and able to speak my language because millions upon millions of people had died during WW2 to preserve my freedom and the horrors of the Holocaust. I remember my Uncles who could not discuss the war without breaking down, Sailor, Soldier, Airman and Homegaurd they are in my heart Uncles and Aunts, Cousins and Family Friends. I am grateful to them for my freedom.

One day we will meet again, in the great Halls of Light and Love. So many different religious beliefs, so many different ways of living and yet we will one day all be one in light and in love.


I see my Ancestors

Back to the beginning

They call to me

They bid me dwell with them

In love and Light

We will be together again.

Sam Hain or All Hallows is also My New Year and thus a chant is that which I end this my All Hallows Eulogy to my loved and lost family and friends.


Beat the Drum and Chant the way
Hear the heartfelt words i say
This year may we renew the earth
Give way to past and seek rebirth
Let it begin with each step we take
let it begin with the chains we break

I break the chains of the past, I deliver my memories to the light and love of my beloved friends and family whom I have lost to the next realm. May all that I do this new year be guided by Light, may my words and actions be rooted in light and may that which is caused by me be supported by light. Hail the Light, may my light never fade.

Jehra

For my Sisters

You all know who you are, my Sisters. Women who have come to understand that as a
Daughter.Sister,Wife, Mother,Friend,Cook, Gardeners, Lover and so much more..'you are more than the sum of your parts'. I will always love Erica Jong for her poem on that very subject.

Love has treated us in so many differing ways yet we share a common bond. We have been used, abused, taken advantage of, hurt and sometimes left to feel rejected, shamed,afraid and lost.

Life has gifted us each other. We have struggled with our commonality, shared our pains and our fears. Sought help from and support from each other and we have won.

Oh not the entire war, but we are still here, still fighting and still managing to keep our heads above water. We still have days when life seems so unfair, so scary when we look at the whole of it. We learn to be equal to the time, the moment and not the whole hour or day of challenge. Each little moment we manage to survive that little bit longer is not only survival it is a triumph.

The triumph of not giving in, not dying in some strange pact between the Gods by whatever name and yourselves...The Triumph of one more day where the simple things in life fill you with joy. A sunset, A childs laugh, a cats purr bringing acceptance that you might not 'win' the whole war but you can have a ceasfire on your emotions just for that little moment.

I have strayed at times from this winning style. Spent moments of despair so black, so dark with bitter hurts. Yet each time I have entered that pathway there has been something I could catch to lift me away. A remembered memory of joyful times, a telephone call 'out of the blue' and above all my Sisters. Women who like myself have survived so much.

In our pasts we have felt the brutality of a fist, a financial crushing blow, a homeless time, a physical dependancy , a time when our safety was hinged on what colour of the rainbow to be for our then partner or parent. We learned then and share now our combined strengths.

Between us we have so much to be grateful for, so much to be happy about. We are alive, we are surviving and we will learn from the mistakes we can acknowledge. Each time we do one or all of these positives, each time we share with each other support, friendship, consideration and care...we become stronger.

The strength we can lend out to others, sentances of commiseration, sometimes of righteous indignation and occasionally of outright defence are all tools of our ongoing fight.

When we can say to another woman...stop right there...listen to the truth and we share, we state our own battle, we give of our own lesson and we defend with a simple cup of coffee, a shoulder to cry on a moments sympathy and empathy...we become stronger.

When you walk out of your door and as you pass a scene being enacted you find the strength to say 'stop' 'what are you doing' call the police or intervene in someway when perhaps in the past you would turn your head and walk away, guilty by cowardice.

When you face your own fears of public humiliation and scream for help.

When you take the overcoat of the shame made for you by another and hand it back....you are being responsible for your own actions and not theirs...you have become strong.

That is the strength we Sisters of Survival have to share. That we can and do survive, that we become victors of that survival, no longer simply going through the motions but LIVING.

The day you feel you can love again, this time acknowledging your right to be treated as an equal. That you can and will say your truth in complete acceptance that freedom of speech is also part of your new you. That true freedom stems from inside you when you accept you have the same rights as everyone else...then truly you have survived and become a victor. Being able to love, knowing you will be treated well, and be an equal in that relationship....this then is one of our goals.

Sadly there are those of my Sisters who feel unable to love again, their freedom to do so damaged by the treatment of their previous partner. By an incident that has ripped away their right to peaceful sleep, confidence in themselves, belief in a future. To those of my Sisters in that path...stand still awhile. Let us be their for you. Let us lead the way towards your own freedom from the wretched chains of humiliating and debilitating memories. Become , as we have, victorious over your past and step towards a new day, a new way.

Those of us who are victorious, those of us who have become our true selves have been equal to the sum of our day only. Not of our life. We take each day and begin with that first breath of wakefulness to absorb the joy of the day. Anticipating nothing but life, enjoying the feelings of our freedom to be us. To be true to our own selfs will.

Living with lies, loving in fear, existing in terror of what might be the end of the days journey is no longer part of our world. We no longer sleep beneath a blanket of constant awareness of our vulnerability. We are aware of our weaknesses and gaurd against them with care but never obssesively...that way lies a different kind of prison.

Wether the prison we live in is made of physical abuse, emotional abuse or financial domination, our choices to walk away, to become stronger within ourselves and walk on into our own choice of path has made us not only survivors or success survivors or victors. Its first gift is freedom as an individual, its second gift is to live not exist and its third gift is to be true to the self. That choice has finally made us alive again.

Somewhere out there ! are women still struggling, still dominated, abused, hurt. Some of us still publish little comments or the occasional outburst against a particular act. This week alone I commended Lloyd who when awarded £10,000 for being a witness to a violent rape, promptly passed the money to the victim , not a rich man himself his comment was he felt he personally didn't deserve a reward for being a samaritan. Equally I published a link to a programme currently being made against so called Honour Killings in the UK. Young women forced into marriage, murdered for wanting the freedom to choose their own way.

Today I wanted to write to you, my Heart Sisters. I want to thank you, each and every one of you. I may never meet someof you. I may never hear from you or be acknowledged by you. Yet you inspire me. Those of you who held out your hand when I felt like dying. Those of you who drove madly through the night to come to my rescue. Those of you who listened for hours and hours as I dragged my weary mind through the hows,whys and wherefores. Those of you who fed me, clothed me, stood by my side. To my Blood Sister who wrote a cheque and said so simply 'eat' ; All of you...thankyou.

Today I stood on my little balcony, I watched a smooth and glistening sea curling its gentle waves to a pristine beach. I smelled the beautiful salty air with its fresh clean tang of Autumn. I watched a little bird feeding. I saw a Dolphin swim its joyful, leaping way across the bay. I opened my eyes to the soft pink and grey clouds as the suns rays pierced them here and there. I looked at the walls of Castle Harlech and observed from the towers the flight of hundreds of Jackdaws. I stood in awe and waited as the Dragons Breathe cleared from Snowdons summit and the range appeared from beneath a velvet veil of mists in all its beauty. I saw , smelled, felt my world, alive and joyous and knew the peace of having the freedom to enjoy, revel in being alive. A factual aspect I may never have experienced without you my Sisters.

My Sisters are all walking their own paths, each step forwards a glorious victory, a wonderful statement of intent and of positivity. Every single step you make is purely for yourself. Yet we, your Sisters will applaud and encourage and see your success as another small step in the evolution of our truth, our way.

Sisters of Triumph.

Thankyou for being exactly who you are.

Living up a Mountain

Yes thats what I do, I live up the top of a mountainside, nestled along the coast of west Wales. Its a wonderful experiance and a genuine privaledge to live here .

Alongside my home is Harlech Castle with its tumbled ancient walls and its magnificent floodlit atmosphere at night. Local youths have attempted the rite of passage here every year, to stay in the castle, to enter it at night and walk the walls over a hundred feet above the ground. You see mists or is it a ghost ? drifting around and your skin shivers with anticipatory fears.

The coastal waters are crystal clear, sometimes emerald green, turquoise, deep blue, sky blue and often a mix of them all but forever a changing beautiful image to inspire. The waves can crash onshore like a thousand white stallions eager to reach the beach, or lap carressingly against your toes, tickling you with tiny drifts of seaweed. Fish in shoals leap over the waters playfully, safe from the trawlers nets , occasionally flirting with the stray angler who has hopefully cast his fishing line in the languid waters. Swimming here is a must, the Gulf Stream warms the waters all through winter, it isn't unusual to see a little skinny dipping going on in the middle of November !!!

The forests are ancient, marked on maps so old they are kept in museums, ancient trees dripping with weedlike trailing ivies and goosegrass, sometimes lichen and moss so thick its as soft and deep as a mattress. Fairies probably do live here...if you stayed still long enough to see one ! Mushrooms and fungi nestle in little pockets of the forest floor or inside a rotting log and some of the trees are so old they can't be 'hugged' they are far to wide a trunk on them. Silence is your companion in the forests, silence and a feeling of timeless mysteries.

But living in a small village atop a mountain has its drawbacks too.

There are two village stores, one at the top of the mountain, one at the bottom and to reach either from the other end you either catch a bus OR if your feeling brave you walk up Twtl Hill...Gods its steep, in fact I believe its one of the steepest roads in the UK and I have actually walked it twice in one day...slept for an hour after but it had to be done. Food is expensive and limited in choice but one store is open till 8pm and one till 10pm so at least we have some availablity. One thing we don't run short of is a choice of presents for family because of course we have shops to sell items to tourists and in winter they do a brisk trade for the old xmas stocking too. We have cafes and resteraunts galore and breakfast is often an occasion to go out and have a chat to neighbours over coffee and a bacon butty. By the way butty is a word taken from the Welsh Buttie which is translated as cafe...there you go read and learn haha.

Another drawback to living up here is the travel time you take to get anywhere. To visit the nearest town with any shops noted in most small towns, your Tesco or Lidl and the like. Then it is a ten or fifteen mile drive through the sharp mountain roads and either the toll bridge or the coast road both of which can get flooded in winter. Or joy of joys we can be snowed in, or worse fogged in..the fog is by far the worst. Sea mist can roll in up the mountain within literally seconds and of course the rain when it falls can lash with fury as coast winds howl in from the sea bringing salt water as well as rain as a downpour that can occasionally sound like a thousand drummers all madly pounding on your windows with tiny drumsticks.

Added to the distance you have to go for ordinary shopping is travel time to see family. My blood family all live miles away, its a 3 hour drive to get to my Mum and in an emergency I would have to drive like a hellion to get to her under that time using the hidden roads around here. The roads that cut through mountains and highlands, little more than tracks and without a single light or warning sign, they do get you where your going fast, almost an hour faster but they can have their own little dangers so its risky. Couple that with the well known fact that our Police are hell on fire when it comes to traffic offences and you have yet two more drawbacks.

Most of us drive ordinary cars but to travail the mountains we also have to have superior driving skills. I don't mean we are superior to other people, I mean we have to become superior to our normal everyday driving skills. For one thing hairpin bends and massive spiralling roads is common. Gathering your skills to get anywhere is a genuine act. You think of the twists and turns, the gradients (some being 1 in 6 !!!) and the timing too. No one travels during tourist time if they can help it. Too many people who don't understand the sudden sheep in the road, the tourist who is walking along the roads with an enormous backpack that can take your wing mirror off even though you gave the person a wide berth, the emerging tumble of a tree as it slowly kilters down the land because its time is up....and so is yours if your not quick enough. Stone slides, floods and ice as black as the road and undetectable...are common every day hazards, so driving skills to the fore and never, ever, ever speed...because sure as eggs are eggs the Policeman will be just round the corner. In fairness they do a grand job, but they are really strict here so it is rare indeed to see anyone stupid enough to speed or to drink drive...they would be without a car within the week and that would make life very difficult indeed.

Hospitals are miles away, a dentist is over ten miles away and fully booked usually, the travel to any place limited to two trains a day and thats it...a couple of buses if the roads are safe. trust me, no one wants to lose their car.

Which brings me to the final drawback...you never know when your family want you, never know when you might have to travel somewhere and never know how quickly you will have to be ready so as a village I can tell to the minute when everyone relaxes. Saturday Night.

You don't have a social night during the week that involves alcohol...you might be driving the next day. You don't have a drink on Friday Night because its town and shopping on Saturday morning so its Saturday Night. Because Sunday morning you can have a lie in bed, plan absolutely nothing and enjoy the time off from work, shopping, and sudden needs to get about...Sunday is Sacred.

I personally think its brilliant, when it isn't tourist season the whole week is beautifully balanced, work, sleep and easy going socialising, come the weekend party time...but just one night. Sure people do act outside of this but it is the norm, it is the way, because it works. Its why my friends on Facebook take the mickey out of me, they know they can put a status on their own FB thats about party times and I can only click on like but I can't join in...especially when I had to take painkillers OMG that was a tee total time all round not even my weekend moment lol. But in the end its an old fashioned way of socialising a few drinks on a saturday with a few good friends then a nice lie in and then back to work...and you don't lose your drivers license either :)

Any other drawbacks ? not that I can think of, you are known by everyone, your business is known by everyone so their are no lies or need to hide yourself because there is no point. A whole lot stressfull than for some :)

All in all I love living up a mountain, I love the atmosphere and the people and the view and the peace and the quiet. I can walk, swim,drive or simply lounge on my balcony to my hearts content. Visitors love it, friends are threatening to move in...and I am happy.

You should try it sometime :)

Enough Time

I never seem to have enough time in my life. 24 hours is just too short a day for the life I live, which is usually at breakneck speed.

I have numerous material things to do, just like everyone else and I have my working world which can take up 10 hours in a day if I haven't earned enough to live on for the week and of course I have family which can eat into time too. But it is just so short a time for the rest of my word. I paint, sew, knit, weave, sculpt and write. I enjoy walking the hills and mountains and I love to swim in the sea. There is always something I haven't time to do and it is very frustrating.

Organisational skills are at zero currently so as a result I am in a muddle. On my desk is a years worth of receipts which I should be filling out for my tax form , on the same desk are half a dozen letters I haven't replied too, a series of commissions for portraits I have yet to get at and a mug of cold coffee that has mouldered over the last 3 weeks because I haven't had time to move it...to be honest simple forgetting but thats no excuse either.

Add to this lot I am a passionate reader, love my wargames on Evony and have to eat inbetween and love an hour shower or a four hour bath and time becomes very short indeed.

Ah yes there is also the social side of life and my personal life and they are as demanding as all the rest of it and so I find...time and I are not in sync.

So I stopped, I stood still and discovered that an awful lot of the time...I waste it worrying about not having it. This article or blog (what a name) is really an attempt to organise my mind into a positive frame so I can organise my time more effectively. I can see where I can make some time and I can see how to challenge a little of the wastage but then I will have to become very rigid in the application of time into my world.

That created another aspect to look at. I love doing things at my own pace and discovered that when I don't have to travel I will work through till 4am without even realising, sleep until 12 noon and think its early or go to bed at 10pm and get up at 5am and still feel fresh as a daisy and there is the rub. Time is not real, it is an invention of man to create a parameter, so we can all interelate with each other, become 'at one' in a similar zone of reality.

I have therefore decided to resign from time. I am being serious too, no more mondays or tuesdays ad infinitum with the exception of using it for connections with others, I shall simply have my own time. I shall sleep and wake at my own pace, work when I wish too and sleep when I need to and with the exception of my relation to the rest of the world I shall create my own timeline.

No more wishing it was friday because I will get paid...I shall leave money in the bank so i can use it at 2am in the worlds morning if i wish. I shall become my own clock and demand from myself only that i do whatever needs to be done at a time that is suitable to me. I am removing times domination in my world and becoming comfortable with my own time and my own timings.

Lots of things have caused me to look at time this way, one of the problems I have had recently is having time alone, time to simply 'be me' and so in the age old manner of all women, with my perogatives set to 'changing my mind if I want to' I am taking some time off.

Should I open a Gallery

Simple title, complex question. I have the chance of a lifetime. To open a Gallery. My dream come true! after years of trying to do what is right by my family, my friends and all the stuff life throws at you, surviving it or conquering it...the time is here, right now...

Do I go for it, or do I wait.

I have the chance of the right shop, in the right place and possibly it is even the right time, though I had sort of earmarked this time next year for this last aspect of my art journey.But I am filled with questions.

Is my art good enough is the first query. Can I really sell my work to the public, will I be able to sit at a cash desk and listen to people pondering wether they like or dislike a piece of work. Can my ego take the knocks that come with a critical appraisal of my work in my hearing, by people I don't know ? In the end I paint from the heart. I am not the most technically brilliant artists, actually I am very slap dash in some ways, but I do paint with passion and verve and I love the subjects I choose as inspiration. I even have a muse in that I only have to stare at the sea for a while and the images I want to paint present themselves as if by magic.

Of course I worry that no one would buy my work, after all thats the same fear anybody who produces anything has inside themselves be it music, paintings or simply a jumper Nana knitted for a beloved grandchild.

The question uppermost in the mind is' will they like it?'. naturally I have had time to get feed back from people and though I have asked questions from people in the cafe where my work is displayed and I am lucky to have been given commissions especially for my protraits...I still have those fears inside me.

The best feedback has come from FaceBook, there I have posted images of my work and people have been kind enough to comment, created a few thoughtful insights and one of them has born fruit in that I now have a small fan club of my work which has really made me feel very grateful.

I have three major collectors of my work and each one has encouraged me to continue. One has suggested I make posters of some of my work and it is all encouraging...but could I supply a gallery ? would my work be good enough for a general public and not just a chosen few of whom I understand their taste in art ?

Thats query one.

Query two is simple economics, its a gamble to pay out money for a shop that is going to be shut for at least 4 months of the year and will have a need for rotating stock all year long. I will have to open for specific seasons, make myself available as an artist for consultations and I will have to deal with the art fraternity. All of which costs that age old dominator ....money.

I am busy with figures, looking at cost effectiveness, time and energy needed to create, stock control and so much else and behind it all is the simple need to provide a service which in return will provide me with an income to live on.

I don't know any rich artists....so there is a BIG query over that.

Do I take the chance or don't I.......................................help

A Jewel of Time

Summer is ending and Autumn is ushered in with the whisper quiet fall of leaves and the colours of Summer turning to the crimson, gold and bronze of Autumn.

This is a Jewel of Time in the year, a genuine moment of glory. Many people welcome Summer with its brassy greens and golds and its bright cherry reds and brazen hues of glory. I too love Summer but it is Autumn which holds my heart. In this season, when all the brass has gone and the bronzed and soft golds come into their own my heart swells with love for the earth and a joy I never feel at any other time of the year spreads through my entire conscious.

Here is the time of harvest, we have the fruits of our labours to pack into bottles, cans, packs, cellars and nets. Bottles wait to hold the wines and the chutneys, jams and pickles we make from our allotment treasure and hedgerow gathers. Does that sound old fashioned ? that I take the time to make jams and chutneys ? or that I actually harvest food I have grown myself to keep me through the year ? it isn't old fashioned though is it, it is the time honoured way of our ancestors and if modern newspapers are to be believed it is coming back into fashion ' being pro active' making our own 'things' foods and the like.

I love walking the little roads of my home town. Harlech is surrounded by wonderful little woodlands and forests as well as country roads. True I never collect soft fruits or apples from roadway hedges, I don't want a dose of Carbon Monoxide with my pie, but I look for other harvests. Filbert Nuts (Hazel to the uninitiated or Cob ) and wild flowers to dry for my Pot Pourii. I look for wonderful leaves that have turned in colour to preserve, I dry them, varnish them and use them as book marks through the year. By varnish I literally mean varnish but find that hair lacquer works just as well. I search the woodlands for walking stick material too and wands and staffs and sometimes I am lucky and find a little twisted Hazel or a piece of Ivy wood that is gnarled with time and aged into a wondrous puzzle of what limb started where and where does it end. I am making a 'tree' of such roots at the moment, one that will eventually become a Fairy Stronghold and a nightlight for a little child. All these little things are the gift of Time. Jewels in a necklace of moments when seeds where planted, or wood grafted or flowers fruiting.

I love collecting the apples for cider or apple pies and the soft fruits of blackberries, haws and rose hips to make wines with. I simply enjoy the involvement in the making and the eating or drinking becomes another bonus another Jewel in my collection of Time.

There are other Jewels to collect too. Photographs of the children who started school this year, or went to 'big school' for the first time, or have just left school and are going to sixth form or college or Uni. All these images become captured moments in time that will never be relived again, never happen again in the persons life...frozen on paper in prints that will stay forever the colour of the day, the moment. A Jewel to reflect a memory or create a link in a history of a life or a family connection. A hundred years from now there will be people look at those photographs and perhaps remember a story, a moment when they themselves began a new day, a new way and link to the ancestors in front of them. Maybe a child will say to Nana 'was that you in the olden days Nana? and out will come the rest of the Jewels to jog memories, bring back that captured moment long enough to create a smile, and another Jewel will be created, this time for that future child's life to enhance and polish and remember with their own grandchild another 100 years on.

I wanted so much to keep so many of the photographs I used to have, sadly they got lost in transit when I moved house once too often. So I am currently tracking down anyone and anywhere that may have photographs of my past, my children's pasts. I pounce on friends albums on Face Book and happily download an image I thought lost in time. I rifle friends photographs when I visit their homes, I go back in time to old newspapers and sometimes the archives of the BBC or ITV looking for images once part of my real time life.All in all I find little golden treasures, little sparkling Jewels of memory and treasure them all the more because I thought them lost.

Each moment in time becomes precious even more so when you feel that you are approaching the end of time in your world. Someone is passing or passes without foreknowledge and those moments with them have gone or will go and you have no more Jewels of time with them. It is then that you realise how precious time is, why I call them Jewels. Those memories, sparked by the turn of Autumn leaves have brought my mind to the precious moments not only of the worlds turn but of my liefs journey.

Quite a few years ago now, I lost my brother. We had shared much in our lives and until he was 21 we shared a happy and very loving relationship. I was 14 years older than he and my sister was 12 years older and he often said he had 3 mothers not one. Sadly we had a fall out and for 13 years we hardly spoke unless it was to be civil. The year before he passed away he wrote to me, an apology and an expression of sentiments which was and is to this day a precious moment in our time as brother and sister. That letter too is a Jewel. One I took much comfort from when he had passed away. For others would have taken the sadness and the hurt I felt, the loss and the pain I held inside me as I supported my little Mum through an horrendous moment of time that has not ceased for her in its cruelty and its emptiness. Those people tried so hard to cause further pain with silly remarks and stupid contentious and eagerly used jealousies and contemptuous supposition, to hurt not only myself but my Mother. Comments and remarks which where wholly unfounded and totally untrue where suddenly being spoken 'as if the truth', 'as if truly witnessed' but I had my Jewel, my letter which spoke of love and concern and truths and my Jewel sustained me and proved the lie. I read that letter until I almost shredded the paper because it was all I had left of my Brothers Truth and mine that was ours and ours alone. My Jewel of a letter helped me through a bitter winter of coldness and even now is one of the centrepieces of my Family Ancestral Records. No matter other peoples 'truths' I have my own proof and it is enough.

Whatever prompted my brothers letter writing, it became a jewel of light in a dark time, a tangible proof and above all an expression of love that sustained. I have kept other jewels of time in my world. Letters from my Mother, sadly I have none of my Fathers beautiful writing and letters and e mails from friends which I carefully print off to keep in my life journal. Words that describe or reveal sentiment or actions which reflect on myself or my family and sometimes on my friends. Each aspect revealing a layer of my own time with them, or for them.

So I have Autumn to remind me of times gifts:-

Autumns colours gently shaded
Brassy Summers colours faded
Greens and Golds have gone to bed
Reds and Bronze leap ahead

That in contemplating the beauty of this time has also prompted me to see time as little pockets of moments that can be recaptured, kept safe from harms way is only a bonus of the thought. Between Autumn and its lessons and the end of my thought trail of letters and poetry that evinces a special moment and all the images in between, I have a fine necklace made up of nothing but The jewels of Time.

It is priceless.

Being Happy

I woke up yesterday with a huge smile on my face and felt so happy I took a picture of myself grinning like an idiot. WHY ? I haven't a clue which is why I took the picture...to remind me that there are some days when life perks up and makes you feel happy even when the world seems against you on all levels.

I had spent a pretty traumatic few days travelling (not my favourite pastime to be honest.) The car is falling to bits, my tax is due so is the M.O.T. and I haven't even made the rent yet and have to go back to St Helens next week and I was STILL smiling..what was going on ?

I am a practising psychic so the first thing I did was check out my aura...positively glowing. !!!!
I then checked out the defence systems in my home, some are very practical like locking the doors, some more esoteric like placing a light within me and the home that is a 'just try it buster' flag and some are simply having the right aromas and colours around me...nothing was different but everything was glowing like mad. Even my crystals (which needed a good cleansing) where glowing in my hand as if they had tiny LED's in side them...what was going on ?
Hadn't a clue.

I checked the date, had I missed some esoteric special day ? nope, it was a new moon and it was a particularly nice moon that got hidden by clouds but still there all shiny and new, sending out positive vibes for those who like that sort of connection...but it wasn't what was glowing in and around me.

I decided to sit out in the blazing sun on my balcony and read a particularly gruesome book called Death Du Jour and enjoyed the macabre twists and turns in the plot. At the back of my mind I worried away at why I felt so happy.

Then I began to laugh at myself. WHY is it such a problem to simply enjoy the day ? it seems that we humans are so suspicious these days, so used to the doom and the gloom that a simple nice sunny day, in your own home, after a good nights sleep is suspect. The why, how, what for syndrome of total suspicion. What would happen to spoil it, why was it inside my head...and worst of all...I didn't just accept gratefully that for the day I was actually happy after weeks of mental torment. Hallelujah !!!! I was happy why on earth hadn't I celebrated it immediately, why had I looked at myself with suspicion. I even checked I hadn't had a couple of Gins in my sleep !!! wow talk about paranoia.

Most of us go through the week with a dark view of what is next on the hit list of disasters. Whose going to screw our life up today, what is going to go wrong this time, when is the knock on the door that heralds hate/hurt/harassment going to happen. You only have to read your own 'home' on Face Book to realise how many people are screaming at the world and its torments. Someones kids have left the room untidy, someones had enough of life and can't be bothered, someones friends have stabbed them in the back, a boyfriend has cheated, a husband has left, a friend has turned into the 'other woman', a pet has died and we start to look for a status that will enjoin us to our friends. We don't write something cheery, happy, uplifting we write our sympathy to our friends (which is good) and then post a status that tells the world we are sad too or hurt, or fed up, or maybe getting drunk or stoned...but when was the last time you or I posted 'I am happy!' on Face Book or wrote a really happy e mail or letter ?

So yesterday I woke up happy and instead of thinking great this feels good and I am going to enjoy it....I questioned it, got antzy with myself, waited for the doom to land...why couldn't I just accept that for that one day I had left my cares in the box marked 'deal with it later' and sit out in the sun and thoroughly enjoy it....am I a killjoy? have I become so blase about life that I can't have a happy moment am I so dour and so sad...of course not but I am as suspicious and introspective and depressed as the next person and forgot how to be happy.

Today I woke up and staggered round the flat looking for caffeine, nicotine and protein in that order. I st at my computer determined to answer emails, sort out a few letters, answer my face book stuff and then clean up and go do some work to earn the rent......I wrote this instead.

Why ? well in part its a statement of sorts about how sad as a race we are that we don't celebrate our lives more positively. But mostly because as I sat down this huge great swell of emotions ran right through me...and I am happy again.. I haven't a clue why...but today I shall treasure the whole of it, I shall wrap it up warm inside me and let it feed my soul.

Join me...be happy about something even if its just the fact you read this and think I am a looney tunes...at least I am a happy one . If I could I would paint a great big smile on my living room wall...just to remind me. Yes we have bad times but we have good times too and in future i shall celebrate the good times with the same energy I devote to feeling miserable...maybe then I will find out how much happiness is around me and appreciate it more often.

Have a happy day...I am

Adventures of the Night

Stars blazed like so many diamonds scattered in careless array across a deep blue velvet sky. I lay in my bed and my breathe almost halted as the sheer beauty of the night sky filled my eyes. Only once before have I seen such a vision.

Many years ago, in a mental torment I sat in my friend Julie and Russ's living room. Restless and unsettled Russ suddenly asked me what was wrong. I smiled and simply said I was in the wrong place. With a perception and insight I had never known he possessed, this man who spent half his life up to his eyes in leather/bike/oil , leaned forwards and threw fifty pounds in my lap.
" Go to your mountain Sue" and I did.

I filled my rattle trap cars hungry petrol tank and bought a few mini staple foods , a couple of drinks and made sure I had my big duvet on the back seat and not in the boot (long story , one day I will tell it :) ) and began to drive. I was going to Castle Rigg stone circle. I drove the 100 miles or so to 'my mountain' and parked in the stony lay bye with a relief I would never have known was possible to feel. I sat in the late evenings gloaming and sighed a deep breathe of contentment. I felt I was home.

Castle Rigg is to my mind one of the few truly unspoilt stone circles in Britain. Set atop a rounded mountain, within an almost unbroken circle of higher peaks and in a way the valleys around the bottom of the central mountain remind me of an old castles moat...only miles wide. It is truly breathtakingly beautiful. The circle itself is completely open to the visitor both human and the thousands of sheep thereabouts and there are no sudden threats of tourist memorabilia or dreadful plastic cafes' it is as isolated now as it was centuries ago . A bastion of peaceful, reverential beauty and solace for those who care to visit its isolated splendour.

Well some of you know I have an 'alternate' path to my deity, some of you know I am as fearless and as foolhardy as the next Adventurer so it will come as no surprise to you that I wanted to walk up to the circle and 'go contemplate my navel!'. This I might add was in October, in the almost middle of the night, in an isolated countryside and three other cars parked in the lay bye, each with a solitary driver, male and as silent and withdrawn as myself. It was a crisp and cold evening and would soon become a deadly cold night.

The temperature at the top of a mountain can be unbelievably cold, at the time of the year it could and has on occasion proved deadly to the unwary traveller. I on the other hand have a deep respect for Mother Nature in all her moods and had come prepared. I wore my black snuggly boots, good thick black trousers, a warm black polo necked jumper, my thick black bubblecoat with false fur lined hood, thick black woolen gloves and I had one last layer to put on...and it was in the boot of the car! damnation would I never remember!!!

Why black (well it was a bit of a theme) black removes you in the night, cloaks you in shadow, hides you in the split silver/black of the countryside. No ambient human engineered light is in the country, just the moon and shadow.

It is wise, when not only small, female and not exactly 21 years old anymore, that you use all the defences available to you for protection. While I am fearless in approaching my goal, I am not stupid and I don't take risks that are unnecessary. I wanted to climb up to the circle, I had the right clothing, I would have my trusty (and very heavy, stout and good for using as a club.....if I wanted to play golf of course) walking stick and a handy aerosol of Ralgex in my pocket ( for sudden sprains naturally and not at all to spray in the face of any would be attacker...honest).

Also, as mentioned earlier there where three other residents in 'my' lay bye and I am not given to taking silly risks.

A women on her own, close to midnight, in an isolated area, should not ever risk herself, neither should a women in such circumstances, feel she has to limit her personal world 'just' because there are men about...but wise in old ways and aware in many personal experiences of mankind's duplicitous behaviours...I took 'steps'. One of my lay bye associates had turned his engine on, no doubt to warm his car interior. It meant his lights suddenly sprang on as he fiddled with dials and switches...his headlights perfect illuminated me as I stepped from my car and locked the doors. I walked sedately to the boot of my car and drew out my final weapon against so many things, my big black woolen cape, with its cavernous hood and swirling rust red silk lining. With practised aplomb I swirled it around my shoulders and shrugged the hood over my already raised coat hood and slammed the boot shut with a decisive click.

I was very aware at that moment that three males where looking intently at the figure I cut, I was also slightly amused when all three cars sprung into activity and drove rather quickly away.
I may have cut a dramatic figure in my full length cape, perhaps it was the fact I was dressed all in black ? maybe it was simply time for them to all go home...but leave they did and I began the journey to the top of the mountain with a much easier mind. I had no idea why they left (though of course i could imagine) I was simply grateful that they had gone. The moon, the mountain and the circle where now truly mine.

I crossed the slender road and walked through the hedges, dropping a small token into the collection box and began my climb. I knew it would take me longer than most people to get up the grassy hillside. I had been in a car crash well over a year previously and my ankle had 'set' at an odd angle making me limp, my back was a constant excruciating reminder of the event and so I accepted my slowness and took my time. I took small but determined steps, treading on frosted grass that glittered in silver and black spikes beneath my feet. A soft crushing sound erupting every now and again as my little feet took me higher up. My head firmly down as I watched for small pot holes and the inevitable sheep's dung that litters this field.

Only a few feet ahead of me now where the two major standing stones, the entrance to the circle itself and I raised my head for the first time to ensure I was on track. I gasped with the sheer beauty of the very stones themselves. The weather was obviously much colder than I could experience in my warm clothing. A thin film of ice had formed over the stones themselves, the beautiful grey and green and yellow blooms of lichen that had grown on the ancient grey stone had become frozen and filmed in this ice turning the stones into natures diamante, glistening and glittering in moonlight that beamed steadily onto the circle itself.

A necklace of ancient powers and history sang in the very image it gave. These stones had been here, in this place for thousands of years and I felt the weight of those years in the silence of the night. The atmosphere was expectant and exciting.

I felt most reverential as I entered that sacred space, finally I took a deep and relaxed breath and walked to the eastern part of the circle where the meeting stones (or if you prefer the sacrificial stone !) lay with its attendant seating stones.

No one knows the why of this circle, it is in the middle of nowhere, I did discover (if it was ever truly lost) a smaller circle a few hundred yards away, its placement and the way it is hidden suggests a Shaman circle for a drum moot...but I can't prove or disprove my theory to the satisfaction of a true historian. I stood in awe for a moment before I began my walk three times around the circle itself. I walked steadily and securely, knowing that not a soul would interrupt me now.

The Cumbrian people are a very respectful people. Whenever I have witnessed any celebrations at Castle Rigg, I have seen many catcalling tourists, some there because they wanted to 'see' some witchery or arcane practices...to no avail. True some people do have a 'ritual' of sorts on specific nights and it is true that they provide much entertainment both for visitors and themsleves. I have had some storming parties up at Gastle rigg, complete with visiting jugglers, troubadours and singing (if not nuns) acolytes.Occasionally an observance does clash with visitors being around, but not often. Though the Summer Solstice celebrations tend to be more of a three day party event it is true. Very enjoyable as well.

However the true people of faith in this place come when tourists are gone, when it is later in the night and fewer chances of such 'guests' and any unwary walker would simply walk away while those who live round about stay firmly either in the celebration or behind their own closed doors. Truly a live and let live attitude. I had no fear of interruption and I let my soul find its peace at last. I felt anticipatory , expectant but had no idea for what.

I completed my walk, amazed at the beauty of each stone, connecting with the shape, size and situation of each individual one, even now, after all these years I can practically feel the touch of my hand on the glistening fragile iced shining surfaces.I had taken my gloves off, the better to connect with the stones themselves, thin glacial ice melted beneath my touch as I began tying myself to its energy, its thousands of years of history, its presence here and now.

I stood back at the beginning and began my chant.:-
I am a practising Shaman , all Gods are one, all Goddess' are the perfect half of a perfect whole, all names simply (to me) indicating one of the myriad facets of the truth. To me and my kind, our ancestors are to be revered for the lessons they teach us of their survival, their mistakes and triumphs. Learning of our family history is of great importance and above all, when those we love go to the next realm it is important to remember them, to view them as they where and what they teach from their living and their demise.

I can see
Back to the beginning
I hear my forefathers
they call to me
they speak of our line
I am their blood
I listen
I answer
I see my Brother, I see my Father, I see my Grandfather, I see my Great Grandmother, I see my Aunt.

And so the litany goes on, tracing the loss of each of my families line in order of most recently lost, back to the beginning of my own birth. I spend time speaking with each of them, thanking them, remembering the lessons, the love the joy they gave me in my world. Perhaps mentally apologising for the pains we shared or caused but each one loved and each one remembered well.Often I use a drum to keep time but this night felt far too special for anything other than awareness of the silence, the beauty and the feel of the nights energies. A drum would have distracted. I paid attention to my ancestors and connected to their memories with love.

It is my honour to them.

Finally I am completed in my thoughts and turn to the contemplation of the source of all my faith 'The One' and it is then and only then I raise my eyes to the symbol of all that this means to me...the heavens themselves. I did this and was struck dumb, awed beyond all measure. I had been right to come here, this was the sole purpose of my journey. Not to do anything other than be, to become my own truth.

Above me, without a single ray of ambient light, surrounded by mountains whose now frosted summits where reflecting light to the direct centre of where I stood, in amazing clarity was The Glory.

If you have never seen this , then my poor words will only ever touch the hem of the gown of its display. For I have no true way of describing what The Glory is. In a way it is simply the stars above, the Milky Way, the planets and the myriad , multitudinous display of twinkling lights that have pierced the dark navy and velvet sky. Yet it is so much more than this. The wholeness of its display beggars belief. There is a silver luminosity, a shattering diamond effect of light, a glistening trail of light smoothed imagery and silence.

Not silence as in absence of noise, but silence as within the self, a shut up of all the senseless mental chatter. In the mind, awe, reverence and joy well up, spill into every corner of your soul. Your mind sings, not a song but one single note of joy, one single awe inspiring note of pure, undiluted blessing. Feelings of humbleness, humility, acceptance and oneness. Simply 'being' at one with the sight itself of The Glory.

Basically a 'beam me up Scotty' moment.

I stood bathed in the silvery reflections of the moonlight, reflected from the mountains, the circle itself glowed with so much light focused on it, my cape swirled around me as I spun round from East to South to West to North in a deosil manner as I greeted each 'corner' of the elemental universe in joyful anticipation. Surely this night I would die from Ecstasy. I felt so many different emotions and tears scored down my face with the sheer beauty of it all.

Shamans do not bow...to anyone. All men are equal, we may nod a head in respect, possibly if confronted with royalty I would curtsy..(I know) but to The One we have an abeyance that is total. I would not insult The One nor would I challenge anyone else's right to worship as they so wish. My Abeyance is formal and is the only time I would so prostrate myself. I knelt in both supplication and in reverence to my deities glorious benediction, to the sight, sound and feel of this universal energy and to the one truth in my heart. I was blessed.

When I left Castle Rigg, it was with extreme reluctance , I could literally have slept in that circle and felt nothing but joy. I had energy pouring off me, my cape had long since come undone, my gloves where in my pocket, my hoods down, my coat undone, I was hot and energised and above all exhilarated beyond belief. I finally made it to my car only to realise that local people had been stood quietly to one side of the circle awaiting my completion before they too went to the circles welcome. We nodded politely to each other and I crawled into my cars back seat, pulled the duvet over my head and slept dreaming of The Glory.

I never expected to see such a sight again....and I was wrong.

Last night, after spending sometime with the BF and meandering around on my computer I trotted off to my bed. Those of you familiar with my lifestyle know that my bed is placed underneath a large velux skylight and that I have fallen asleep to the sight of the stars and the mornings Sun for the last 6 months or so. I had been reading Terry Pratchetts' Thief of Time when the eyelids began to droop and I switched off the lights and snuggled down to sleep.

Restlessness decided to pay a short visit and I turned over and the view through my window struck me into silent, awed reverence. It was there, The Glory, I had been gifted a second sight of something truly amazingly beautiful

Stretched across the sky, every star blazed, the galaxy revealed in extremely fine detail, the seas luminosity reflected back the silver beams of the moon and the stillness had descended, that 'holding my breathe' feeling struck through me and tears streamed down my face. Above me, in silent benediction was the answer to so much heartache these past few weeks.

The Glory is for all, it is for everyone to see and to feel. Perhaps a little thoughtfulness is needed, maybe a sensation of oneness can be achieved by simply praying in whatever manner is suitable to each person...I have no way of knowing. I never believed I would ever see The Glory again. Last night I was shown that once touched, then it is never forgotten, can never be taken away, That connection, that benediction had been inside me all of this time. Now I know I carry The Glory within me and I feel a little closer to my deities will, a little more aware of my purpose and a whole lot more certain of my self's pathway.

I have been lost for a short while, my worries and concerns have been both material and familial...last night redirected my thoughts, clarified issues and blazed a trail in my mind I had forgotten to walk. The Spiral is a constant in Shamanism it is the pathway in and the pathway out of life and death as a cycle. It is also the symbol we use to describe or to encourage or to display or to engender a wholeness of the self. It is also The Milky Way.

What is inside you is worn on the outside of you because it is truly visible to those willing to see.

I have not forgotten my pathway but I have and do have times when I don't pay as much attention as I should. Material things get in the way, Familial things create worry patterns that distress....I shall try hard not to forget to raise my eyes again. Last night, by pure chance or divine will I was restless and turned and saw....no one will ever be able to tell me how many times The Glory has been there for me to access, to rely upon, to draw upon...and I missed it. I forgot to raise my sights, I forgot to appreciate what was above me...I will try not to forget again.


For every season there is a purpose under heaven.