What I wanted most as a child

Written for the Post40Bloggers blog prompt Number 82

Something you desperately wanted when you were a child

When I was younger I was terrible at PE. I mean terrible. I had no balance, I was slow; running seemed so easy for everyone else, they made it look simple and fun, they didn't get left behind or fall over and graze their knees. But from about the age that 'Sports' Day' became a huge memory in  my childhood (aged about 9 maybe?) PE day became a day of horror.

I would try all manner of feeble excuses to not take part, faking coughs, sprained ankles, headaches. I would take an age to get changed, volunteer for anything that needed doing that didn't involve actual sport. Fetching the basket balls, handing out and collecting the tabards, setting out the cones...

But Sports' Day itself was a nightmare. Even back in the 70s schools tried to be inclusive, but I didn't qualify to be in any 'proper' races, mine was the ignominy of the 'special' races, full of fat children, wheezing breathless asthma sufferers, and wobbly weak kids, kids like me. And even in these races I did not surge to victory, we stumbled and gasped our way down the 100 yard track like unenthusiastic hamsters, passing the finishing line with the simple joy that it was all over for another year. Nearby the rest of the school waited watching, I imagined them hating us all for being so pathetic.

I didn't join in running games in the playground, I was dreadful at catching a ball. When I turned 12 I briefly enjoyed cross country running, mainly as we all departed at various times, spaced out, there was no way to see how badly you were doing (until arriving back last after the showers were finished and everyone was already in Maths) and you could jog/stumble along the paths in the woodland as slowly as you liked, with no one judging you.(except the aforementioned maths teacher!)

I dabbled with throwing the javelin at age 13 and no one was killed, so I'll take that as a success, but despite my height and long arms I didn't seem to have the strength to fling the javelin very far.

As soon as I was in the sixth form I eschewed sport altogether. Finally I had the power to control my own free time at school and I chose chess. Again I was with the nerds and the geeks, but I was used to it by now, they were my people.

So where is this post going? with its whining and self pity? Well at age 34 I was diagnosed with Charcot-Marie-Tooth (Hereditary Motor and Sensory Neuropathy) and suddenly it all made sense! The weakness, the bad balance, the stumble, the tripping due to foot drop. I wasn't dreadful at sport! I was not bad at all considering I was disabled!

So this post is a reminder to myself. What I desperately wanted as a child was to fit in, to be sporty, to be one of the runners, to be a winner on sports day. But I'd have settled for knowing why, knowing why I was last.

A look back - Sir Terry Pratchett and the Discworld

In 1983 two things happened (well lots of things happened but this blog post is only about two) . Terry Pratchett had a novel published and I bought it. And read it (three, three things happened) I was hooked from the very start. I can’t remember why I chose the book, maybe it was the hilarious cover illustrations, maybe it was because at the time I was 17 and obsessed with Dungeons and Dragons and the fantasy genre, maybe it was on special offer. Whatever God of reading was there he/she/it guided my hand and the rest is … silence, as I read through each book as it was published, there were muffled giggles of course at Terry’s witty jokes. There were gasps of amazement later as the books gained in amazingly satirical insight.

Pleased to have Sir Terry in my house... pic.twitter.com/gE6MGhYLKV
— Tattooed_Mummy (@tattooed_mummy) March 12, 2015

I had (actually still have) a huge crush on Samuel Vimes, it may even be real love as I didn’t feel sad when (spoilers!) he finally met up and settled down with Lady Sybil, I adored her too, with her dragons and sensible shoes, and no nonsense approach to all things.
I love all the books of course but not equally. I favour the Watch series (Nightwatch, of which I have a signed copy is my favourite), tales of daring and adventure with a rag tail band of hapless chaps and a girl or two…and here’s a thing, Terry writes fabulous women characters. They, like all his characters, have complex personas, neither good nor bad, they have secret dreams (Cheery the dwarf for example longs to plait her beard and wear lipstick and maybe a …skirt!) and they have problems to overcome (Angua struggling with a relationship with her ‘monthly troubles’ for example) They are tough, like Lady Sybil and the Witches, forthright and knowledgeable like Susan, frequently busty and lusty too (Do not ask about the tuppeny upright!) They frequently have their own stories, such as Equal Rites, and the Tiffany series for younger readers.

I could write for days about characters, events, jokes and Terry’s genius at combining all of them into a world of pure magic but I don’t need to, you can read them yourself. If you’ve never read one why not use this handy guide to find a starter book and dive in to a new world, a flat one carried on the backs of four elephants who in turn stand atop the great A’tuin the world turtle.

I met Terry Pratchett before we had to call him ‘Sir’ though we probably did anyway, at a discworld fan event in 2007 (see if you can spot me) and again at several others. He was always fabulous to his fans. (who it needs to be said are mostly mad – myself included) He put up with us dressing as his characters, being generally drunk and silly, and expecting him to sign things. He never disappointed. We in turn donated to his favourite charities, bought him gin and tonics, arranged events and continued to be silly. I am proud to have shared a sausage supper with him.

I, along with many fans, cried yesterday to hear of his passing. Much excellent fan fiction has been written of his meeting with Death, one of his brilliant Discworld Characters. There has also been some amazing art created. I can’t help but smile through the tears, so thank you to all that took time to create them.

I leave you with the last tweets from Sir Terry’s twitter account. And I shall continue to imagine him sipping gin and writing, in the other trouser leg of time.

AT LAST, SIR TERRY, WE MUST WALK TOGETHER.
— Terry Pratchett (@terryandrob) March 12, 2015

Terry took Death’s arm and followed him through the doors and on to the black desert under the endless night.
— Terry Pratchett (@terryandrob) March 12, 2015

The End.
— Terry Pratchett (@terryandrob) March 12, 2015

I'm feeling sad

I’m not a political blogger and I’m not going to start ranting politics now. I don’t know who is right or wrong in Syria, in Israel or Gaza, in Russia and the Ukraine. Conflicts can take years and the rights and wrongs become murky and muddied as each side uses might to try and win.

But yesterday the news was too much. Too much to ignore. Too much to bear.

Children killed in Gaza on a beach. I live by the sea, I see children on the beach everyday. The image of children playing and then running for cover as shelling starts, only to be too slow and to die in a violent and terrifying way, played over and over in my mind, with the backdrop of our stretch of beach, gentle waves lapping at the shore.

A passenger plane, filled with people travelling for work, for pleasure, off on holiday, to visit relatives, to attend a medical conference, shot out of the sky. 298 people, including children and babies, dead in an instant. No one needs to take responsibility, we are all responsible. Wars and fighting affect us all even those far away. This tragedy helps to bring home the fact that no one is able to ignore a conflict and hope it goes away. What is the answer? I don’t know, and that is a bigger tragedy. How can anyone stop a war? More fighting? I’m at a loss. I feel lost and sad and angry and helpless.

Last night there was a storm in the UK, lots of loud thunder, rolling and rumbling in the night. Bright flashes of lightning. I wondered how it must be for a parent to lay in bed and hear shelling not thunder. For the crashes to be bricks falling. For the flashes to be fire and explosions. I do not know how anyone can survive mentally, day to day, with that kind of stress. This is not  a political post. It’s a sad post. A post where I don’t know what to do to help and yet somehow feel I must do something.

I am a mother, hearing about children dying is like hearing about my child dying. I cannot read an article or hear a news story about a mothers pain without tears of my own. I am far away and cannot help, don’t know what to do but my tears are real.

Copyright: artisticco / 123RF Stock Photo

What are you doing? Ignoring the news? Donating? Writing? Do you feel as lost as I do?

Links to aid agencies that are contributing to humanitarian aid in these areas.

 http://www.worldvision.org.uk/ways-give/make-donation/syria-crisis-appeal/

http://www.redcross.org.uk/syriacrisis/

http://www.icrc.org/eng/donations/index.jsp

Sworn Secret - Book Review

Remember those freaks and weirdos  authors I went to the pub with on Saturday?

Well, I know this will be a surprise, what with them being authors and all, but they have written some books! And I have read some of them, so I am going to review some of them! All set?

Then let us begin.  

Book, the first.

Amanda looking worridly at a banana

I have been chatting to Amanda Jennings on twitter for a while. I don't recall exactly how we met but I do remember we got into terrible trouble, and fits of the giggles when we accidentally trolled a well known blogger. The more we apologised and tried to explain the worse it became. While we cried laughing I think he blocked us both. We are still very contrite amused by it all.

Any way - Amanda wrote a book, she sent me a copy and so it felt churlish not to read it. Just kidding! I was desperatly keen!

The book is called Sworn Secret. It's a YA (Young Adult) novel, suitable for that awkward stage between childrens books and grown up books - and lets be honest, that's about where I am. I am not yet 50 and far from grown up.

The book starts with a death, and there is a lot of descriptive writing about how the mother copes with the loss of her teenage daughter. I cried. I didn't just cry a bit, I sobbed, each thing that hit the mother in the story, hit me. I have a teen daughter. It hurts to even think about losing her. Each crazy thing the mother does, each bitter family row...well you get the idea, I sobbed and sobbed, my eyes looked like the provebial 'piss holes in snow'. I threatened Amanda that if things didn't cheer up I would do bad things to her (possibly with a banana).

Luckily for her by the second half of the book things were looking up, now I could identify with the young love, relive my teens, sex in sheds, stolen kisses and quiet hand holding.

I can't tell you the secret, you'll need to read the book for yourself. But it's a moving book. Bring tissues.

Readability score 4.5/5
Kelly Kettle Rating (assumed, as I didn't actually test it) 3

Sworn Secret is currently £5.75 on Amazon Uk and £6.39 at Waterstones

Posted for a linky ....

Being a party pooper, balloons

I sometimes see things about organising a 'balloon release' and my heart sinks. Like everyone else I think the sight of hundreds of balloons soaring up into a blue sky is a beautiful thing, trailing tags with notes of love to heaven, what a gorgeous idea...but balloons come down, and when they do they kill things, lots of things.

They fall into rivers, get snarled in trees, drift to the sea, and wildlife get's caught up or eats the burst skins of the balloons (particualrly turtles that naturally eat jellyfish drifting in the sea)

You wouldn't organise a mass litter. Please don't organise a balloon release.(Ditto 'sky lanterns')  Maybe you need more convincing, if so here are some links. I'd appreciate it if you spread the word.

 

Marine Conservation Society

Balloons Blow

And if I've convinced you to change your mind. Here are some other things you could do that would not harm our planet.

I especially like this idea 

"Floating flowers- For a lot of people, the gently upward drifting of balloons gives them a sense of letting go, and at the same time thinking the balloon will eventually reach their loved one. Because remembering a loved one by potentially killing another life isn’t exactly the best feeling, there are many alternatives. Floating flowers or flower petals down a calm stream can give you the same sense of letting go. You will be able to be in nature and feel the energy of your loved one and all the life that surrounds you! Be sure to use non-poisonous flowers and not to let go an excessive amount."

We only have one chance, let's not screw it up - I want a beautiful planet for future generations. I hope you do too.

All Pictures Copyright (c) 123RF Stock Photos

You know what annoys me?...

stream of annoyance follows...

• People that don't indicate, especially at roundabouts, I'm not a mind reader - bloody signal
• People that stop in a slip road when they don't need to, learn to drive! stop shilly shallying about, get on with it!
• Bum cleavage, on men or women, looks vile, and I bet your kidneys are cold, learn to dress yourself and work out what size you actually are.
• People wearing clothes that are too small, it doesn't make you look skinnier it makes you look fatter, wear the right size, or diet back into the smaller ones.
• Leggings that are actually tights and therefore see through. just *vomit* blergh, wear leggings, or wear a dress/shorts and tights. Don't go out in just tights, hideous
• Uggs. Shuffling horrors that get soggy and worn at the sides in minutes, grubby monstrosities
• Wearing PJs outside the home. No excuse unless you are on your way to A&E. 
• The media creating bandwagons for idiots to leap on, heck we all leap on them. Stop pre-judging crimes. Let the courts do it.
• Facebook.
• People that don't clean up after their dogs - I'd rub their noses in it to teach them a lesson
• Parents that swear at small children
• TV commercials
• Unnecessarily huge cars
• Smart phone battery life (or lack of it - it isn't any use being smart if you are asleep when i need you)
• People that can't leave a public toilet (or any toilet!) clean for the next person.
• Fridges that appear full and yet have NOTHING you fancy eating in them
• Instant coffee, especially when it is called 'coffee' as in "would you like a coffee?" so that you have to ask "is it real or instant?" then you look like a coffee snob (which I am) you wouldn't offer a cup of instant tea without mentioning it was instant! (and yes there is instant tea, and yes it is a nasty as it sounds)
• Luke warm milk. (unless you are getting it direct from the source milk should be ice cold)
• Misleading labels on food like "fresh" or "light" or "low fat" or "green"  most of them are meaningless (what is 'fresh' all about? as opposed to 'stale'?) Low fat is almost always high in sugar, and low salt can have more salt than another brand.
• Wasps
• Stuff women are supposed to do to be 'pretty' or even just 'women'; shaving legs, painting nails, shaving underarms, wearing up thrust bras, make up, false eyelashes, high heels, hair conditioner, hair dye, wearing jewellery... I don't mind doing some of them some of the time but give us a break! It's not essential to life!
• Getting old
• 80's fashions being 'in' again, and remembering them from the first time round and knowing they were dreadful even then
• Not being allowed to be naked when we want to be 
• Intolerance where it doesn't affect you, like racism or homophobic or being anti-gay marriage, or anti religion
• Poor grammar (Sod's law states I have made at least 13 grammatical errors in this blog post - I'm talking about genuinely not having a clue not the odd mistake)
• The loss of innocence as kids grow up - it's all over so quickly

• Vegetarians (just kidding - wanted to see if you were still awake)
• and lastly? judgemental people ...yeah yeah I know - *puts self on naughty step*

LOCOG - Crushing the Dream, one day at a time

I was really excited about the Sports even that shall not be named. Not at first I admit, but gradually I came round to realising that it was going to be a historic event, something good in a  time of recession. I stopped worrying about how much it would cost and concentrated on what it would achieve. 

Sport would be highlighted in schools. Kids and young athletes would be encouraged. The Paralympics would show disabled people in a positive light, moving them away from the 'benefit scrounger' image they seem to have gained.

The Ticket 'lottery' was horrible. It felt weird, and unfair, to order more tickets than you needed? or to just order what you required and risk disappointment? To order in some kind of 'double guessing' way by selecting sports that you imagine to be 'unpopular' ... but what if everyone did that? To order in the highest price band or the lowest? It was a nightmare and in the end I ordered the cheapest options in what I wanted to see and only what I could afford.

I was one of the lucky few it seems as I got nearly all the tickets I applied for! So the excitement grew again. The thought of seeing top athletes in a massive new arena  or pool, cheering on my country with DD at my side.

Kindly donated by @Kungpofanda at Twitter

The  transport looked like it might be tricky. We live close to London (an hour on the train) but even so the journeys seems long and complicated, we were advised to leave 'extra time' so I did. I booked the tickets on the train even though they cost more than the tickets. I felt smug and organised.

And then the emails started...and the texts telling me to read and observe the rules in the emails ... "or else you may not see your event". That sounded ominous and threatening. 

Suggestions to arrive TWO HOURS earlier than the event, after I had purchased tickets (planning to arrive 30 minutes early) Suddenly an early morning train journey became a dawn/milk train journey - 5.14am for an event that starts at 9am. And then the searches, the rules on 'excessive' food (what is excessive? who decides how many maltesers is acceptable?) the ban on liquids, on large flags, umbrellas, kittens. Where was the fun? Where was the excitement?

And now missiles on roofs of ordinary peoples flats ('you are at no danger' they are told - 'so why the missiles and armed guards then?' I would reply) A lack of security from the company PAID and CONTRACTED to provide them. Soldiers brought in from our troops aroud the world to patrol a sporting event! Allegations of free tickets to top events for the great and 'good'...., And finally the crown, we can no longer even mention the games (and possibly the year, the word summer or the metalic colour of the medals) without getting sued..

I admit, I'm losing the love. I want to get the love back. I want the Sports Event that cannot be named to feel like a Sporting Event of a Lifetime, not a War.


Toy Soldier Picture Credit : National Museum of Play Online Collections

edited to add  the no kittens pic

Run Free little dog : Jeep 16th July 1999 - 5th May 2011

IF IT SHOULD BE

If it should be that I grow weak

And pain should keep me from my sleep,

Then you must do what must be done,

For this last battle cannot be won.

You will be sad, I understand.

Don't let your grief then stay your hand.

For this day, more than all the rest,

Your love for me must stand the test.

We've had so many happy years.

What is to come can hold no fears.

You'd not want me to suffer so;

The time has come -- please let me go.

Take me where my need they'll tend,

And please stay with me till the end.

Hold me firm and speak to me,

Until my eyes no longer see.

I know in time that you will see

The kindness that you did for me.

Although my tail its last has waved,

From pain and suffering I've been saved.

Please do not grieve -- it must be you

Who had this painful thing to do.

We've been so close, we two, these years;

Don't let your heart hold any tears.

--- Anonymous ---

 

I have had Jeep since she was 8 weeks old and I was 6 months pregnant. She has grown up with my DD. Jeep has always been a well behaved, slightly odd and adorable dog.

Jeep had had a brain tumour diagnosed back in October which had been kept in check with daily steroids, but she had a sudden turn for the worse yesterday, with confusion, pacing and twitching, and some incontinence. We didn't want to keep her here 'just for us' and it was hard to see her so upset. She had a huge tea (!) and at the vets she was still hungry enough to munch on fish snacks, in fact she was so busy snacking she didn't notice the injection, and died with a mouthful, the perfect way to go for a Border Terrier.

Do we need a silence?

Every year, once a year, we have silence, quiet, hush.
We say it is to remember the dead, the lost, the harmed.
Some say it glorifies war, horror, pain.
Some say it is boring, useless, unimportant.

Today the sky is filled with clouds, rain, tears
and again we will stand, sit, wait
for the two minutes, the 120 seconds, the pause;
and find a gap in our busy lives, our work, our family
a time we can remember, think, consider

but will we?

In a short 2 minutes what will you do?