End of The Week From Hell and Heaven

This time, last week I sat at my computer, my head in absolute bits.

To say I was torn by the choices laid before me is an understatement. I had to choose between allowing a company in the name of good old 'filthy lucre' to lower my rate of payment (though not I might add, the hours worked or the standard of work) or else leave because as the Choices blog stated at the time...I had principles.

Those who know me well, realised a long time ago that shoving or pushing me brings out the absolute worst side of my Taurean nature. I shoved my head down, sharpened my horns and made my play. I would rather (and I did mean this and still do ) become homeless and penniless than choose to be a 'shill reader' (someone who pads minutes out to extend a service which increases the cost). From the moment I made that decision my head was clearer.

The following day, those choices where absolute, declared and I prepared myself for losing my lovely home and all the attendant problems that go with that. As I once again sat at this computer and sent my resignation. I informed friends and family with a copy of my resignation and sat and despaired of the whole issue. Within ten minutes e-mail after e-mail arrived. Some where from colleagues, some where from friends aware of my choices and some...where from old employers eager to ask me back...my world was saved.

Only five days remained of this week and I still had hell and heaven to endure. I had to travel (I loathe it) and not just a few miles but over a hundred in a car that has played the very devil with my finances over the last year. Sadly 'car' is getting old and needs tender loving care. We scraped the journey with my gear changing skills pushed to the limit (the ratchet is going) and arrived in St. Helens where I was greeted to a wonderful meal and equally welcome company. That too became a blog. Waiting for Dinner. There was heaven.

Hell was anticipated with some pretty gruesome dental work to be done. Fear is not a pleasant companion, even less so when the fear is a life long phobia. But sit in that dentists chair I did, hell on earth for me...and the dentist gave me ..... heaven ! no more operations, no more pain...whoopee. I rushed outside to the car and hell had visited again. Lidl car park in Liverpool is NO GO, trust me a £90. fine for being in the car park over the 1 and a half hours...the devils !!!!! and I shop at Lidl every week. I was fuming and upset because of course finances are tight right now. Ah well says I to myself its the day for the big H one way or another, heaven/hell/and hospital.

I drove back to my home with a desperate need to be on time. Blood tests and all the grim fears of being in Heart Attack Alley where now sat on my shoulder whispering there vile little phrases.

No cheese (sob for a veggie that's another hell) no creamy butter, no lovely full fat cream, no butter fudge and worst of all NO chocolate, oh woe, woe and thrice times woe!!!!! Hell again.

Heaven arrived with a quick weighing session. Ahhh you see...none of those gorgeous foods is a necessity to life, simply the desires of a much indulged palette , here indeed was the heaven of the day... I had lost over a full stone in weight and best of all...I could see my feet ! GREAT.

The penultimate day arrived of this weird and wonderful challenging week. I had a new job by now, things where not quite as grim as I believed. The hell of my decision had been overlaid and finally wiped away by my ex boy friend, my son and my Mother all demanding they be allowed to ' help you, you stubborn woman!' and help they did.

The ex turned into the Boy Friend again, the Son stayed in France and the Mother began planning a surprise and I sat in amazement at the amount of beautiful comments, e mails and telephone calls I had received all week. I felt....well to be honest I actually felt loved. Isn't that nice .

So penultimate day and all that.... I got washed and dressed and decided to try my nice new clothes. Black of course. I still am not comfortable in colours just yet. I whisked a little makeup on, dragged the brush through my hair and set off to do a little shopping. I lost count of the "Hello...wow don't you look well" comments which where finally summed up by my friend Jan in Seasons and Reasons..." I don't know what you've done but I'll have a bottle of it " which just absolutely made my day.

I trotted home, full of the joys of spring. heaven landed and this time it stayed a little longer. I enjoyed a whole days rest and recuperation which was interrupted by five visitors to my home. One after the other who where 'new visitors' people I hadn't met before or old friends from my college days and camping in the wilds of The Lleyn Peninsular. Very welcome, wonderful chat and a few sessions on the guitar. All in all a most satisfying afternoon. Heaven stayed a bit longer still.

I stayed up quite late, I have to alter my body clock as most of my work will now be late at night and not set hours as before. I played my war game on Evony and ended with a deep sigh of satisfaction having built lots more archers, abandoned a castle and so forth. Loved it and after a short visit from the BF went to bed and slept the sleep of the just.

Today is the anniversary...hmmm strangely enough I awoke at the same time of the 'phone call last week...the one that hit me in the heart. I sat for a moment and stared at grey skies. Skies that would rain all day long and sighed. It felt strange after all not to be working with my lovely line managers. It felt strange not to be logging into work and chatting to my clients. It felt strange to meander up and down the village street and it felt even stranger to be so lost in such a small place. But I did feel lost. I almost felt guilty for not working today.

A week off however was a must. My entire world had been put ' through the mill' and I needed to rest. I won't have much time to myself soon. Hell ? not really but a part of the changes going on and uncomfortable and a little disheartening to have your world so Topsy Turvey all because of a principle. Then Heaven arrived in the form of one sentence.

" I've spoken to the landlord...here's his number " and lo and behold...it looks as if I will have my Gallery for next years tourist trade. Actually while discussing the ins and outs of it, some customers listened to a little and promptly commissioned two portraits and that was for when I open...what a week !

I've learned one thing about myself, yes I have principles and if I had lost all, as I truly believed then I would still feel the same way about my decision. I did not spare a thought for what might have been other than to hand my figures over to an expert for perusal and a copy of the e mails sent. They will now make some decisions for me regarding the matter...that's out of my hands and a huge relief to me.

I discovered that the acts of human kindness spanning from happy little e mails of support, to very real offers of financial aid and waiting to have dinner with me...every single one of those moments was blessed and welcomed and healed me from the inside out.

I discovered my BF is a Knight in Shining Armour and that my family believe in me so well, they didn't for a moment doubt my reasoning or my decision, in fact to the last one of friends and family and even my landlord!!! (that was a shock) supported my decision and understood it for what it was.

And finally I realised that though there are many things in my world which have problems to be dealt with or things to be sorted, even a few challenges...well to be honest Heaven or Hell...the mountains still filled my eyes with their beauty, the sea still calmed my ragged nerves and the smiles of the tourists as they passed me by still made me feel happy inside..where it counts.

In the great balance of things, though heaven and hell have both visited me this week. I can honestly say....what a wonderful week I have just lived through.

Waiting For Dinner

I travelled a long way the other day. Driving through mountain passes, past ravines, cliffs, through valleys and so on. Finally I landed back in my Mothers home town and headed to an old friends to stay the evening.
Tourist traffic had doubled the journey and I appeared over two and a half hours later than originally expected.

I rang the door bell and listened to its electronic dingle dongle sounds and suddenly the door was flung open and I was wrapped in the arms of my long time friend Julie. I had just about enough time to notice she looked really good, had a figure that usually makes me feel deeply inadequate (sigh) and she smelled nice and I was escorted to her divine conservatory to be patted and petted over for a wonderfully indulgent ten minutes. Glass of wine in hand, shoes off, big cushion and a snuggle into the huge leather suite (I swear it half swallows you ) and I settled to have a good old fashioned catch up natter.

Now I had been driving several hours and was thirsty so the wine drained into me and my body soaked it up like a dry sponge hitting a huge lake...yum. As i put the glass back on the table Julie said 'we are starving waiting for you' she was laughing as she said it...but I was stunned.

At this point I realised my friends, instead of eating a well deserved meal at a reasonable time had waited for me to arrive. No sandwiches on a plate, cling filmed and waiting my arrival oh no... they had a meal prepared and that set the tone for my blog today. Has anyone ever, waited for dinner on your behalf? isn't it a lovely gesture:? doesn't it make you feel so welcome?.

I've lost count of the times I have 'opened a tin' or nipped down to the cafe below me, perhaps the odd sandwich or worse, I've eaten a packet of biscuits with a cup of tea. It seems easier to 'send out' than to stay in and cook something decent. Here in my friends home, I was given the ultimate accolade.

Julie had marinaded the meat which took 24 hours, cut chopped, ground, melted, whisked, and innumerable other deftly applied techniques and was now eagerly cooking the sauce, Daz helping her by heating the Naan Bread and then the table was laid and I went and sat down and simply appreciated all the effort that had been taken to create a wonderful meal.

When was the last time you sat down, at a beautifully laid table, with shining cutlery, sparkling glasses, good food, good wine and good company ? its wonderful, its such a pleasant change from grabbing food while sat at my desk.

I sat looking at the shafts of light hitting the prisms in the glasses, the food smelled rich and aromatic, the Naan Bread lay being gently toasted over the table warmer and I ate in appreciative mood. We exchanged laughing comments, talked deeply about a few subjects. Had a few silent moments of appreciation as we each came to the end of a truly magnificent meal.


Was it worth the effort? well I can't speak for Daz or Julie but I can honestly say oh Yes ! To know how long this food had taken, the need to drive into town to buy the fresh produce, to marinade, prepare, cook and finally serve had been a small feat of planning and execution that many would simply not go to the bother of doing.

That Daz, having worked all day long, driving all over the north west, ravenous for his tea...waited so he could enjoy a meal with both his wife and myself...what a lovely gesture.

What a compliment to our friendship, what a beautiful gift from my friends to me. How lovely to know that my visit had been anticipated eagerly, that I deserved 'The Recipe' the favourite of all the family and several people who really would like to nick the actual recipe which is one of Julies own crafted meals.

I am humbled by their continued generosity towards me, to their consideration and above all to the ultimate gift of one friend to another...they waited for dinner.....for me.

Thank you my dear friends.

An Unkindness of Ravens

Did you know that a Flock of Ravens is called an Unkindness ? I read that many years ago, it was one of Ruth Rendells mystery novels , one of the Inspector Wexford series. I never forgot 'an Unkindness of Ravens' because it seemed so apt.
My nom de plume is Ravenjehra which as you can see raven you can also get the hint...this blog is one of those weird ones, word associations leading to a subject etc:-
Raven as a symbol is The Messenger, it is most probably because the Raven was sometimes used rather like the Homing Pigeon is now. Ravens were also Odin's friends, Hunin and Munin and as legend would have it could talk intellectually with Odin. As part of my nom de plume it is of course indicating I am a messenger.
Jehra is one way of spelling Ger or Jera it has only one meaning that I know of, in ancient times it was a symbol invoking Justice. Together then my name symbolises a message of justice.Given my occupation it too is apt.
But an Unkindness of Ravens has a true meaning that is perhaps missing from peoples experiences these days. A flock of Ravens meets for only two reasons , To eat and to meet out justice.
Oh yes Magpies and Ravens have often been observed 'holding court'. The luckless member of the flock which has done something to offend the flock...(anything from bad behaviour I guess to being injured and a liability to the flocks survival). Stands forlornly on the ground and the rest of gather around it in a circle. Much screeching and flapping of wings ensues and in the end, whatever agreement is reached the birds can fly away or they begin to harass the 'prisoner' and peck it to death.
But it is not that which gives them the Unkindness tag.
I think it is the eating habits. Ravens eat carrion and in ancient times and as recently as the 20th Century where there is war, there are battles and where there are battles will be casualties and amongst those casualties will be the fallen and as far as Ravens are concerned 'dinner is served'.
An Unkindness of Ravens is there before the observer, having eaten well of his comrades in arms. Not just a few Ravens, but hundreds, 'so thick in flight they darkened the sky' (I pinched that sentence from a history book ).
Of course I didn't get up today to start wandering around and mulling over such details, I needed to rest before a strenuous drive and some unpleasant dental work on Thursday. I am still a bit nervy and unsettled and so today was rest day.
I began rifling through one of those 'boxes' you mean to sort out one day. Well 'one day' was here and there on the top layer of items was Ruth Rendells book, an Unkindness of Ravens and I sort of glanced at it, then read a bit, then got lost in it and curled up in the sunshine on the floor with a great big cushion and read all day long.
The book kept me entertained and then I looked out of my Balcony window and there, without any fear or any single show of nervousness, was a Raven.
Not an Unkindness thank the light. I would have had hysterics I think...just one and what a magnificent creature he was.
Now when it is going dusk here we are all (the villagers) used to the shrieking cries of the Jackdaws as they circle the castle, a liquid wave of black smudges swirling through the air. Some of the tourists ask if Castle Harlech has Ravens as the Tower of London does and people associate the two...of course we are very proud of our Jackdaws with their sharp beady black eyes and dark grey hood. But to see a Raven this close to the castle was to say the least a little surprise.
He looked straight at me and I swear those eyes where as intelligent as any humans. With a tilt of his head he stared at me for a little while and then with a slow ponderous swoop of his wings, he was away. Gliding down below me in a graceful execution of flight. His black wings shooting tiny flashes of blue in the deep golden sunlight.
A messenger? given the last few days maybe it was indeed a messenger. Not with words of course but in symbolism.
There was me, there was the bird, there was the serendipitous timing and the oddness of having just finished a book on the subject and in between signed several e mails with my nom de plume.
Perhaps between us we constituted An Unkindness of Ravens.

so there we are, a blog about absolutely nothing. Just the meandering thoughts that can thread through the day, ending in a desire to share with my readers how symbols and sounds, names and patterns can all combine to create 'one of those oddities, weird stuff,strange,' occurrences in life.

Choices

Choices are made every minute of our day. We choose to create, change, do or not do something at every turn of time. Yet sometimes those choices are made so much more difficult because of 'factors'.

Over the years there have been many of those 'factors' which have impinged on my freedom of choice and as a result my personal world has taken a variety of paths. I used to call these strange moments when my world 'went off at a tangent' ......................My Adventures.

I am about to have another one....any minute now.

On Sunday I was offered a choice, keep a lucrative contract (but at a lower rate) or give up the contract.

Simple enough, not really that hard a choice, most people. Especially in these harsh economic times, would keep the contract and look for further work while finishing things off. Maybe even filch a few customers for when you moved, perhaps even challenge the stats revealed and change the goals achieved. Fight back and prove stats wrong and surpass previous efforts.

All of that was possible, then; my damned ethics got in the way.

'oh those things !' yes ethics, or if you prefer 'principles'. I have lost count of how many times I have said to people "strengthen your resolve and stick to the core values you hold dear " Because of course, living a lie is damned uncomfortable. My ethics where being challenged at the very heart of my world. Materially there where some pretty solid factors that had to be addressed before I made my final choice.

If I stayed with the contract I would have to move home. If I moved home it would never have what I have here.

This apartment is the jewel in my crown, so up to date the cooker isn't on the open market yet, so well built that my heating costs in the middle of winter for 8 rooms will be roughly ten pounds a week. A castle a 100 yards from me, the sea, the mountains, the forests all within 15 minutes by foot or car. Beautiful views, wonderful friends and the chance to finally belong somewhere. The entire area calls out to me, I have indeed come home'.

Of course I hit the 'devastated button' my whole world was being challenged. Then alternatives came in, I could return to my disabled status, let the government keep me...an outright no ! screeched from the depths of my soul, I am not and never will be just a number. One of the faceless thousands bureaucracy has a complete hold over.

I could continue and struggle for a few months and hope to get back on track, run up a few debts but staggering them over the following months finally get back on top....all I had to do was squeeze a few minutes extra into every connection I made over the telephone. That's all.

But 'ethics', 'principles' call it what you may; came and kicked the door down on my thoughts.

It unsettled me, caused me to think, but I hadn't made up my mind. I decided I was very uncomfortable with representing myself as a Senior 'anything' on the grounds that I could make something last longer than it needed too. My decision was made. Uncertainly that is true but it was made. My principles/ethics would hold true and if that meant I had to lose my home, then so be it. I am not a Shill, I do not and never have 'padded anything out' but I was still afraid of my choice it was a lot to do...choose to be without a contract. Down right scary in fact.

Then came an e mail, it described me and my work in the most unflattering terms, grossly defamatory, very upsetting. My response was not as most people would expect. I didn't flare up in anger I was so hurt. So destroyed by this action because of course I knew it was a lie and my mind was in turmoil...but my resolve was at last strengthened ; with one, careless lying e mail.

I have worked in many areas over the years, 40 years working in so many varieties of life can be very handy. From Cadet Nurse Jones sprang, The Head of Computronics at the very cutting edge of commerce, dealing with billion pound orders and end of month book keepings,Mrs Swift and all the experiences of Motherhood, betrayal, divorce, violence and financial domination. But alongside Mrs Swift came the factory worker, the cleaner, the bar maid, the driver, the head bar maid, the under managerand all those percentages and wage bills, tax and rebates, sick pay and recipts, the manager, the licensee, the owner, the lessee , the web builder, the self employed artist and a wealth of other attributes and buried within them all...is the accountant, the one who is central to it all.

I learned to do flow charts,abacus charts, linear and venn and pie charts and I learned to do percentages in my head...fast work needs a fast mind...I am at top speed. I dragged out my figures, i worked solid for 12 hours and then again for another 6. I used nothing more than an old calculator then I double checked. Yes I had been lied too. Someone had twisted numbers to create a negative view. I was back on solid ground.

Ethics are wonderful but they don't feed you, principles are a necessity to remain humane, but they don't house you...lies can and do press buttons in you, they give you the fight it or flee it syndrome in actions that are far louder than any words. I decided to re read the emails sent and received. More lies are revealed when you have figures you can depend on. Anything can be made into a lie with a simple twist of the word, a new angle, a missed single number...and everything will change. That in itself is quite a power to acknowledge.

When that power is misused and in a way defamatory or damaging towards yourself, then the strengthening of resolves is immaterial. This is now personal, it hits at the very heart of your ego, your sense of self esteem. Fight ? or Flight?

I made my decision on the principle nothing else. The lie simply made it imperative tht I did make my choices there and then.I removed myself, I resigned. If I had not been lied too, I don't now know if I would have compromised. I would like to believe my ethics and principles would have been upheld anyway but I cannot deny that the lie made things all too real, all too plain to me. I will NOT be dominated by anyone, still less a faceless person who uses and abuses the power they have, to create problems that do not exist to back up their own ego , their own power status.

That left me in a very poor position both financially and within myself. I accepted I would lose my home, accepted I would be in a different position in society once again.

Then my apartment door was banged on, slammed on until I finally answered. My Knight in Shining Armour, complete with his own duraglit !!!!! wow!

With no knowledge to him other than I was distressed and hadn't been seen for two days he was determined to be answered. His shock when he read the e mails was altogether so heart warming. His following diatribe was ego boosting to the extreme. I had NO idea he felt as he did about my skills. Very much an ego boost. Healing in fact He wrote an answer for me, it consisted of two words and an awful lot of 'f's' in it, I declined to use it....but my heart swelled with gratitude.

Unexpectedly another e mail arrived from someone I consider a close personal friend....rent money here, just ask ! what could I say to that? I sat crying with humble gratitude.

A telephone call, ' what the hells going on', distress signals it seems can be passed over the ether, a close and personal student of mine had 'felt' my hurt and wanted to help...she did by connecting with an old employer...'Sues' looking for more contracts' and an e mail ensued. In fact I have just sent them my bank details...nice isn't it.

This morning I opened two e mails, both offering me work, work that will more than cover the fears of my future. I am relieved beyond measure, I am without doubt completely vindicated. The Gods would not have opened this door for me if I had chosen wrongly, I truly believe that.

So I will keep my home and a bonus too. I can actually have a whole week off to myself. I need it, I really do. The emotional backlash hasn't finished with me yet.

I still can't speak on the phone properly and I don't think I am fit to work properly at the moment as yet. Simply I am recovering.

But I am glad I made my decision, glad it is in the past now.

Well almost. I have to decide wether or not to take further actions, is it worth it. Do I demand a retraction of the falsities ? do I involve my Barrister friend and his oh so slick knife witted venom, do I take my figures elsewhere for a full review, what to do? revenge is not my way, but justice is and I need that bit to wait until my personal feelings are out of the loop. All Justice is better served cold and precisely. It isn't just a matter of hitting back or demanding an apology. When lies and deception are part of the reason you make a choice, you must yourself be very truthful With everyone. That then will be another choice, one I will consider for a while.

Choices ? when others actions can encourage/depress/create or destroy you, there is no choice at all....you stand by your beliefs. You love yourself enough to believe in yourself.

Not a bad choice.

Next time your up against it, look deep within, are you being true to you? does it feel right ? can you sleep at night? will you be proud of yourself the next day? and good luck...after the last three days I have a much clearer view of myself.

I actually have principles, I'm rather proud of that.

Thoughts

Over the last few days I have been challenged in so many areas of my life, it has provoked some really deep 'and meaningful' thought processes. In the main concerning my life style rather than anything else.
Currently I am being challenged in one of my contracts . I work for myself, the self employed do not have sickness benefits or sudden influxes of government cash if there is a crisis. Quite simply we have no alternate but to stand firmly on our own feet. That is dangerous for us all, particularly if you are starting a new business venture as I am.

So my capabilities where question, not in the standard of my work, but on the 'performance per person pro time', this would impact, is going to impact on my financial stability and I find it quite unethical.
To deliberately entice someone to 'stay online' at a cost of nearly two pounds a minute seems to me, rather blatantly sales versus quality. This however is the status and I am currently below the rate applied to be paid at a premium level. The client, asks specifically for the best, they apply for one of us under the misnomer of Senior Reader . The client actually believes that they a receiving the best person at their work when in actual fact it is not so, it is someone who is good at flim flam, someone who can spin minutes, someone:- taking them for more than they bargained for.
On the surface that is exactly what it is. However their are some factors which are undeniable. All the Seniors are qualified, they are all substantially very good at what they do and very caring in their approach. I have no quarrell with any of this. Just the advertiseing that allows the person applying to be led into a false set of values. They are not 'only' applying to the best, they are applying for someone who is going to cost them so much more than they bargained for.
This has raised some really deep issues for me and as a result I am re-thinking and sorting through my own ethics and standards, can I really work for this type of creative accountancy. I'm not so sure. Money is not the be all and end all in life, it can and should be the foundation of your security re housing and so on, but can I live comfortably here, in this beautiful place at the 'lower' rate of pay or do i live here in good quality luxury at the higher rate of pay...do i make a difference if i make a stand? not really, the customer will pay exactly the same for their service it is my own situation that changes.
Thats a dilemma and a half. I need to find (if there is one) a reasonable association of ethics that allows for this in my mind, allows me to stand by my principles and yet doesn't conflict with my material needs.

That means looking at other contracts and working with them, finding companies that do not practice this way of enticement. I shall consider it. By no means is this whole saga finished. I have other principles I am fighting for here too. I am an expert in my field, I have 40 years experiance and a willingness to work many hours. There will be a reckoning but not yet I feel. It is time to really start thinking.

Today

Today has been a strange one. From the start my day has been filled with old challenges. Yet of them all the folowing has been the one that stayed in my thoughts poking and prodding at me.
Starting with my friend Kerry saying she liked my new picture on Face book to another friend demanding I removed the same picture because I looked like an 'agony aunt'.
Here was the same image of me (in words) from years ago, some see me as a friend others see me as a 'handy' friend, someone they can tell all their troubles too.

As that is part of my job, listening to peoples problems, occasionally having the answers, I found my two friends very different views of my picture challenging and in a way sad. For my friends often fall into the two camps I mentioned earlier. I began to think.
NOT the best thing to do when your brain is already filled with a whole series of questions about entirely different subject matter.....but think I did.

I feel on a personal level it is a huge compliment that others can talk about issues with me, certainly it is comforting to know I am trusted and that my wisdom's are appreciated. Yet in a strange way it is also disappointing, I have never been 'Gods Gift' as the saying goes but oh how I wanted to be 'hot', how much I wanted to be seen as 'desirable' or even 'a honey pot' but my face has never been that glamour puss face or the sultry come to bed look, just friendly and occasionally when I was younger I would be told I looked pretty.

I never truly thought I had such vanity in me, yet when I allow myself the time to 'think' on the subject there it is in huge outlined/underlined/neon bright letters ' I feel old'. Yes I really do.
It isn't anything to do with my years or even the maturity of my mind, it is simply I am no longer seeing myself as a competitor in the great human race of compatible mate syndrome. I am out of the race and stood on the sidelines of the marathon finish line watching the younger ones still staggering across the finish line with a prize over there shoulders.

Being 'seen' by anyone in a specific role can , and does, challenge the perceptions of their peers , family and colleagues. You are introduced almost 'in character' or displayed (as in the case of face book) and by the responses of those people to you as a personality , the image is spread further.
You become your own worst enemy when you do not defy the image but acquiesce to it, perhaps even promote it. Before too long, you are trapped in the genre you have been placed in and no one ever sees you differently.

I am seen as practical, sensible, helpful, a crisis pillow to cry into, a post to lean on, a walking aid when you have stumbled in life. These are all very complimentary as long as they are not an abused status but oh HOW my heart wished to be seen in a very different light.

To be seen as pretty cool, a real hotty, gorgeous, beautiful, not my nature so much as complimentary of my face, my figure. Sadly even I can say in total honesty that neither fits into those categories. But that in itself (the truth) will not stop the envious piercing of your heart when all the boys look at your friend with their tongue hanging out, or your friends boy friend brings along a 'mate' for you and he looks like the back end of a bus...ah yes a few of us have been 'there' have we not ?

There are, of course, advantages to being 'the other one' for we generally speaking do tend to pair up one stunning one a little ordinary. As 'the other one' I got to meet interesting men I didn't have to fight with to get to the mirror and there was no competition as to who was best dressed either...to a man I think they all wore denim jeans :) I don't believe anyone in a suit ever approached me in my life! Certainly the poor soul lumbered with me would be so damned grateful just to have a girl on his arms I tended to be treated rather well, so yes there were advantages. The drawback however, could detract if envy or disturbing thoughts entered your mind. Instead of being grateful the man had bought you an ice cream in the cinema you would look at the chocolates your friend got and feel a little miffed :)

Being described as kind, caring and lovely person is of course a compliment. Yet the heart still cries out to hear what wonderful legs you have, or a cute nose or that your lips are made for kissing.

So my new picture on my profile has done me a service, whether it is a good one or a bad one I have yet to decide. It comes as rather a shock to realise that the old teenage angst has been lurking in the bottom draw of my minds filing system, just waiting to leap out and present itself.

There are issues here, some a psychologist could probably explain about self image and low self esteem or poor ego...yet I don't believe that is wholly the truth. I believe , in part, that if your life is spent with people who wouldn't know how to give a compliment , even if in their hearts they consider you special, then you will find yourself overlooking your own image and accepting other peoples more negative views.

I think it rather sad that in my own experience I can remember many insults concerning my body, my face, even my voice and very few compliments from those same people.If nothing else today has caused me to re consider my imagery of myself a little more positively. One is told repeatedly that self image is important, so is a compliment. You can stare at yourself in the mirror and assess your attributes as much as you like, but without that all important compliment it is a meaningless exercise. So I am going to compliment myself occasionally and yes, I looked in the mirror...not bad, not beautiful, but ; well, hmmm not bad :)

But tomorrow I will definitely go on a diet !

Images

I have found the upload for images....great !

The image alongside my writing is of one of my paintings entitled Night to Castle, yes a play on words, that's me: the wordsmith.

Creativity is an integral part of me, I paint as part of my livelihood and this painting has been 'so far' the one everyone ends up saying they like the most.

Of course because I live about 100 yards from the castle the most viewers are tourists who have come here to see the castle....maybe that's a catch twenty two situation. Friends and family tend towards my photographs rather more than my paintings, in particular my sunsets which have become a 'life of its own' creation.

I have to have cameras all over my home because when a sunset happens here it is instantaneous and I either end up on the balcony with a view of the Lleyn Peninsular, hanging out of my bedroom window (which I remind you is in the roof!) or running like hell out of the door to catch a view of the castle with a sky of multi coloured hue enhancing its imagery. So there is a camera or two lurking in wait throughout my home.

My paintings however are My Soul on Canvas which will be the title of my first full exhibition in my very own Gallery sometime within the next few months. I am currently engaged in the lengthy process of negotiating contracts which takes foreeeveeeer!

I began painting as a child but in those halcyon days of my youth education was a very different thing to what it is now. Little girls from a working class family where not expected to go to higher education it was both unheard of in our strata of society and perceived as one of the 'lower classes' not understanding the place we had in society. So I didn't even think in terms of Uni and a Fine Arts Degree. I wouldn't have known what one of those was,.

Similarly when it was suggested I attended a 'singing school' ha! in Italy my father nearly choked laughing. Not because he didn't believe in my voice but because of the incongruity of it. Miss Ashton our Song Mistress had carefully spoken to me about it, sounding me out. I hoped with all my heart...it sounded so exciting. One conversation with my dad and she gently smiled at me and shook my head. End of the dream. Now I couldn't sing a note if I tried I have a voice that is passable but the clarity and the range are sadly limited.Dad saw my face and his attitude changed but then, I didn't truly understand and he never spoke of it again, not once throughout my life. Maybe he had finally grasped how I felt 'outside' maybe because he felt sad for me, whatever it was, the subject was never raised, not even to my Mother.

So I carried on singing to myself, and painting for my own pleasure. BY the time I was a full grown Mother and Grandmother my life would take a huge knock, and a massive change.

I eventually ended up here, a place of peace and beauty. Those times are a journey I will write about later, for now it is this time, this place that is my focus.

I attended Coleg Harlech and through Miranda, Geoff and A few others in particular Juliet and Myra I came back tot he area and stayed and began another journey, one that brought me to be an artist for real. I paint portraits, I paint scenery and I let my imagination flow it is indeed a time in my life where i paint my Soul on Canvas on a regular basis.

A psychologist could read my entire life through my art it is the place where there are no boundaries, no fences or hills to climb to be who I truly am...it is simply a blank canvas, myself and my tools of the trade....and me, the person I am inside.

The majority of my work is done in bright colours mostly the primaries of red/blue/yellow with a few tonal qualities and I love to experiment. I've added sand/tissue/grit/bits of pottery to the mix before now...I simply love to use my art and the license to go with it.

So Night to Castle is my most popular tourist painting and my photography excels in sunsets but my true skills lie in sculpture which is where my entire creative process comes fully alive. I will write about that another day for today this blog is simply a writing inspired by a very kind, old friend who let me know they where following my blog and found it interesting. I sincerely hope you enjoyed this piece my friend.

A bit about me

Well I am the child of David and Dora. Dad passed away a long time ago, he was a lovely man, a gentleman with a real sense of old fashioned chivalry. He was and still is my hero. Mum is the guiding light in my life, she has so much wisdom and is sweet and gentle and a 'proper' Mum. I never came home to an empty house, I was lucky in that Dad worked hard down the mines and until I was 12 years old Mum stayed at home and kept house. Those days are long ago but the smell of hot buttered toast whips my memories back in a flash and I am a child again. Sat in front of a roaring fire with a sweet cup of tea and a plate of honey gold toast dripping in butter..mmmmmm. Lovely memory.
I grew up on a coal mining estate, it was a lovely place in the beginning, with garden competitions and a street full of little children , the girls skipping while Mothers turned the rope and boys playing cricket or football with Dads on the local field. Then change came. I was too young then to understand the dynamics of the change, simply what had been a golden place to live in became dark and forbidding. The garden competitions stopped, the fences where replaced with cold concrete slabs, the children suddenly became gangs and then there was fighting and violence, rape and aggression wherever you went to.
Catholics and Protestants would fight, girls fought boys, boys fought other boys, girls got involved and the skates and bicycles where replaced with motorcycles and it became a grown up world with grown up terrors and we where still only children.Dad arranged for us to move to a place the other side of town, I was never so grateful than to see the back of the place and it took me many years before i could even drive through the area without cringing. Bad things happened there, memories I don't want and actively defy but those early years, they are ones I will always treasure.
My life changed beyond belief as I reached 16, I became a Cadet Nurse and lived life with a fervent energy. I burned the candle both ends and in the middle, of course it couldn't last and eventually it all caught up with me. The partying till late and the getting up for work at 6am to be on the wards for 8am all combined to undermine me and I collapsed with a burst appendix amongst other things. The rest did me good, once I got over the operation that is. I am smiling as I write this, I had both emotional conflicts and fun as a Cadet Nurse, one minute holding the hand of a dying woman, my heart breaking for her pain and the sadness of her family, the next thing I am sliding down the banister of the main stairway with a friend following me and Matron stood tapping her foot stood at the bottom. Oh yes, I enjoyed being Cadet Nurse Jones. Isobel and Mrs J stand out in my mind. Isobel was the Technician Radiographer in Xray and an absolute sweetheart to work with. As Cadets we had to experience working in each department, I so enjoyed Xray and got on well with the staff so they wangled me staying that little bit longer. Mrs J was the top one in the department, to her fell all decisions and she ruled with a rod of iron. I absolutely adored her. She was a beautiful woman, strong and gracious as well as a damned good teacher. She was the sister to Mr Tickle another leading light in the xray world who worked at Alder Hey Hospital. I was privileged to be present at the first tooth xray ever developed in the area when he arrived at the Cottage Hospital bearing a new type of film hidden in a small white plastic waterproof pouch. Placed in the mouth and exposed the detail was minute and both of them got very excited about it all. Me ? I watched, observed and enjoyed my involvement which was the developing process...then a massive amount of trouble off Assi Mat (assistant matron) for being late for my next lecture. Sheesh I was locked in a dark room with no way out...what was I supposed to do ah well. I enjoyed the experience whether or not and years later Mr. Tickle and I became firm friends through a family trauma.
I left the hospital after a particularly sad weekend.
It was my duty to roll bandages and get them ready for the autoclave. I had developed a strong bond with four beautiful women. I am ashamed to say their names have long since faded from my mind but even so I can still see their faces in my minds eye. I had no idea why they where so strongly bonded, just that they sat at the top of the ward with grins on their faces every time I got caught doing something wrong. they would joke with me, kept look out while I had a sneaky cigarette on the outside balcony, and they would wrap the bandages with me. I really did like them. I waved good bye on the Friday evening and when I came back on the Monday each one of them was dead. the shock hit me like a hammer. I couldn't take it in. In those days there was no such thing as gently leading you into a responsible job such as nursing. You where on the wards and up to your eyes in dirty bottoms and spewing stomachs the day you began. Trial by fire as they say. Yet for all I had seen a headless corpse from a road accident, nursed little old ladies till they passed away, washed dead bodies, looked after tiny sick little babies this sudden cessation of life knocked me for six. These four women had not lived at all, in my minds eye, they where all around 36/7 it felt wrong, it felt so very painful and I couldn't deal with it. Nowadays you would be sent for counselling and helped to deal with it, in those days there was no such thing. So I left. I had enjoyed some marvelous moments, been privileged to nurse some extraordinary people but at 17 years old, death was too harsh a reality when it came in such quantity. Too young and too naive I left a career i was eminently suited for. Even now as i grow older friends and family alike tell me I would have made a really good Matron in the Hatty Jaques style haha. Instead I applied to Pilkington Head office and began working in a department where i became the thorn in the side of Mr Wainright....and stepped into the grown up world of commerce ...it was a heck of a journey.
I had never so much as filed my nails never mind filed important records of transactions that ran into billions of pounds. yet here I was, wearing 'office clothes' and working 9am till 5pm..great I could finally party again. I became what was known then as a Computronic Operator the predecessor of the computer these machines where enormous and calculated all the invoices for the glass. I ended up representing the 'girls' as we where known and eventually had quite a responsible job...that is when I met my future husband. Did I mention I was very naive...well I proved it by getting pregnant at 17, married at 18 and that was the end of my office Career. In those days if you where female and got married you where obliged to leave as the employers didn't want the responsibility of a pregnant employee. I retired gracefully to the status of housewife while living with my Mum and Dad, my husband David worked as Second Man on lorries so was only home 3 days a week and that was the start of a whole new chapter in my life.

Its the early hours of the morning, I cannot sleep and the restless tossing and turning in a duvet grown too hot for nights ease has finally lost its battle. I am awake and i am sat here at my desk.Why blog now? because I can.!
Because for the first time in my life I am not filling out a diary with my thoughts and records of the day, for the very first time, I am 'blogging' my way through the night.
My home is unusual as a build. I do not have the every day 'normal' windows one associates with an apartment. I have sky windows, great scapes of glass that reveal what is in the heavens. Tonight it is the dark navy sky of a storm laden cloudscape. Here and there a star may beam for a short moment, casting a low light, just enough to see the angry clouds as they speed by. The moon is hidden or perhaps it is the dark of the moon. I have lost track of the moons travels recently. The wind is still loud and strong, more blustering than an honest howl, gusting across the land in fits and starts. A sudden lull eases the sounds I can hear then as suddenly as the silence decended, the wind hurls itself across the land once again.
It is impossible to look at the sea now. Mostly the moons light will let you view a glorious spread of sea with curling waves or the ilver shimmer that spreads across the seas limpid surface but not this night.
This night is black as can be, no light gives a peep into the view. I feel for the campers in this. Tourists travel miles to get here and when the weather turns like this there is no comfort and no shelter. We are a very small village, there is no large hotels, only small ones with rooms let well in advance of the season. Those campers who brave the night, do so with a hammer in one hand ready to beat down the tent pegs before the wind tears the walls of the tent from its moorings, or else they huddle together awaiting the disasters that can occur when the wind screams across the camping fields.
Most of the camp sites are down on the flats. My friend calls the flats 'little Holland. He lived in Holland for a while and has stated more than once how similar the land is down there at the bottom of the mountain. Its because it once was a sea bed. The coast line has changed dramatically over the last four hundred years. Once the sea came all the way up to the castles base, now it lies a good fifteen minutes walk from it.
I love this place with a passion, it is such a beautiful set of ancient buildings, some are spoilt with incongruous updates that are now monitered by C.A.D.W. the ruling body over all building in this National Park area. It has, in the main been a good thing they are here. Otherwise monumental eyesores would have been continued. As it is the student block to Coleg Harlech is due to be demolished. Thats good believe me. A huge sixties monstrosity of ap place with cement and pebble dash and sightless eyes of windows. Built on the primest most beautiful spot...dreadful eyesore and i can't wait for it to be gone. The Coleg itself is a mish mash of beautiful 'Harry Potter Hog Warts' and a modern theatre which as an addition to the building fails utterly to even slightly blend into the surroundings. A huge carbuncle of a building, unsightly and grotesque. That too is to be removed.
Once they are gone the new build will begin. The Coleg has beautiful history, one I will wrtite about another time. But it is definately a magical place.

Ah well, my eyes have begun to droop, my typing skills slowing and errors will occur. Time to sleep.

I am sat at my desk, my head filled with all sorts of wonderful (to me) things to write and for the life of me; I can't get the words into the correct order. So I thought to myself....what if I just let my fingers take a walk on the keyboard and see what comes up? and here it is, the meanderings of my mind.
The wind is howling outside my windows, when I look through my living room window I can see the curling waves of a sea wild with tempest. The white horses of foam gallop across the bay , hurrying towards the final crash onto the beach, hurling foam into the wild winds grasp to finally smash against the sandunes.
The golfers have all gone home, no one wants to even try hitting that little white ball into this wind.
Below me, clinging to the cliff face are trees that toss their leaves around, mother natures grip as strong as the wind.A contest between the unseen might of the Sylph and the tender looking stalks of the leaves, a few succumb to the battle, the fallen scattered along the twisting, turning roads to gather in their mulching demise along the gutters.
Clouds that this morning had lain sullen and grey; low in the sky ,are now blown high in the atmosphere, lighter in colour, billowing or streaked a mixture of messages. No towers to tell me showers before evening , no fluffy pillows to say all will be well, the sun will shine soon. Instead I see the storms on the horizon whipped into a frenzy of lashing rain that lands in drifts across the landscape and the occasional flash of the sun inbetween.
Not a day for walking, not a day for having to be out there. I feel sorry for the farmers, harvest is coming close, the last thing they need is this weather.

Across the way I can see Harlech Castle. Its grey stones deeper in colour as the rains fall and wash its walls clean. I love the castle. It is my silent gaurdian. As evening falls the Jackdaws come flying back to roost in the Southern Tower , screeching and squawking their way home. They are like a huge moveable cloud across the nights sky.
The moon rises, the spotlights go on and suddenly, in the gathering dusk the Castle looks magnificent. The ancient monument has a different life at night, a secret life that the tourist doesn't see. Jackdaws are not the only visitor. Locals climb into the castle to fulfill a rite of passage, walking the parapets. It doesn't sound much until you try it in daylight...300 foot up from a broken landscape, along a walkway that has the tiniest of walls between you and certain death. How much harder at night. Not just at night though, it has to be at midnight when Owain Glendauers ghost walks and the many soldiers who died their stand to attention again . The silent sentinals of your imagination and the witnesses of your courage.

Beyond the Castle lies The Dragons Spine. Snowdonia Mountain and its attendant range. Beautiful, mystical. Magnificent displays of colour have flashed across the sky before nights blanket falls and this landscape has filled my heart yet again with its beauty.

This place is magical, a place I have found healing for my soul, a place of true connection. Wherever I end my years, this place will be one I shall always remember with true affection.

To Blog or not to Blog

Well this is all new to me, blogging, having your say and knowing that the thoughts in your head can be expressed to an unknown audience without censorship or fear of criticism. At last the freedom to 'speak' my mind.
But what to Blog ? who will read it?
Do I simply write the thoughts I have, a set piece ?amusing?sad...what?
It doesn't matter, it really doesn't its all about me, my mind and the way I wish to communicate.
Wether it is read, enjoyed or not is an unecessary conjecture, here at last is a way for me to record my mind and in doing so...create a little bit of immortality.
great !