SIX LONG WEEKS

Good evening Bloggets. It’s the weekend again. It’s Friday. And six weeks since we had to get my husband’s Guide dog put to sleep. In our opinion days before she was so healthy happy and wanting to work and I think that is what has made this grieving so difficult. Along with the fact it was only almost one year since we had to say goodbye to my first guide dog BB. A.K.A Hannah to. We were still so upset about losing her. She was part of the furniture for sure.

 

 Hub said he had a bad day at work today, dealing with the loss of LC. Me? I’m so much in pain still. I think part of it is the fact I can’t break down in front of Hub as he is totally devastated still. It’s as though she has been stolen from us. I just can’t believe this Christmas we are not going to have our stunning character, our family member. My Husbands left arm his eyes if you like. The personality I miss it so badly. I still feel as though my throat has been cut. That is the only way I can describe it. My heart hurts and I miss the physical part of her loss too. I want to cuddle her and pull her from wherever she is now. She belongs here with us. It’s not fair she was just turned nine.

 

Some people will say get a grip. She was a dog. No, she was our life line and our heart beat. She wasn’t just a dog. A guide dog is never just a dog ever. They are miracles they are angels. They are put onto this earth to serve and they don’t complain. Without Hubs dog I really don’t know how we would have managed our life for the past seven years that we have been together.

 

So our Son?

At the awkward stage of a teenager who really complains at almost anything he is asked to do, we would for sure have been prisoners. We have had to go to solicitors, banks, shops, meetings, Doctors on train journeys to meet with people and more.

 

We went to the local church here when we first moved. It was a great way to make friends. If not for that, we wouldn’t know anyone. Our neighbours saw us in the street going on our way, if not for LC we would have been in the house all of the time. It was the confidence I saw in my Hub  that made me realise as a blind person without any confidence at all, I could also do things like the shops chemists and just go for a walk even though as pathetic as only to the shop and back without buying. Just to feel the outside world on my face. Just to break free from these four walls.

 

 My Husband managed to travel all over the country with his girl LC. He was able to attend meetings from his local office, to The Houses of Parliament, 10 Downing Street and even the Palace to meet with the Queen. A guide dog can truly be a lifeline.

 

So now his job doesn’t in tale all of those places of meetings, but we still need to get out. Still need to know if we want a loaf of bread that actually has taste, we can get it. The local shop I go to is very basic. So we live like this now.

 

We do only internet shopping. So no feeling textures, feeling to see if the fruit we are buying is soft? No smelling perfumes just buy as we like the name. No pictures as of course we can’t see them. We may have to pay more as we can’t shop around. So with my dog we survive. But our LC could take Hub to places of interest and it meant we could have really nice food from the bakers in our town. I miss those coffee afternoons when Hub and I would be walking on our route and hey, we would smell coffee. Hub would ask LC to find the door. Sometimes the fragrance would seem as though it was leaving us. Hub would ask LC to find the door again as we would be going past it? But no, she knew where to go. The door was perhaps past the place where the coffee machine was sending out its lovely notes of caffeine.

 

We would sit with our coffee and how proud we would feel. I was bursting with pride with Hubs LC. She would lie under the table and not make a sound or movement until we said it was time to go. Hub would put on her harness I would take out my white cane and follow her to the best of my ability which did end out with  quite a lot of stress, but when we got home, gosh, we had done it. A team.

 

 

 

FI'S FRIDAY FROCKS

Well, not happy. Really, I can’t understand why in the UK you have to be a size skinny to receive pretty clothes that are something other than ordinary? Just been looking at some exquisite clothing online.

 So detailed so beautiful, so feminine, so fashionable, so colourful, and so little.

 

When I visited the US, the clothes there were really nice, Okay, not quite as detailed as what I have just been looking at, but still, very lovely in comparison to what I buy in fat sizes. So I have more skin than you slender ladies, it still blooming needs covering up, in fact more so!

 

Funny how grand buildings, are that? Grand. But Fatso’s have to be frumpy. OK there are companies out there, who sell larger clothes, but I have tried them and really, I’m not quite sure who they model on when designing?

 

I received trousers / jeans that were so enormous in the leg I thought I had bought a duvet cover. So I find slim fit, and the waistband is half way down my derriere. Believe me Bloggets, that isn’t a good look. Well, I say to myself. Why not stick with the derriere look as your long limbs look good in them and hide under an oversized top?   Em. Nope. No can do as the tops are so short in the body they look as though they have shrunk in the wash before even wearing let alone washing. They are so short; one has to study to know which way to put the dam thing on. It’s only the fact it has arms at each side that give it away.

 

OK. Rant coming to an ending.  So I typed in velvet. A great material I feel for the winter. I love the feel of it and the look. As long as it’s not like your Nannas lounge curtains. After page fourteen, I decide there are no clothes that will come close to my size unless I do what a lot of my friends do and buy small to say you are in a size 12 but in reality, you should be at least five sizes larger so you end up looking like a burst potato sack. I find myself looking at hand bags. Oh I saw a beautiful one. A designer bag in the sale, it’s getting better the description is. Long handled multi coloured velvet hand bag.

Nice, rich for Christmas an yet colourful. Long so practical. I can fling it over my head/shoulder as I’m using my cane or holding onto Waggatail, whilst I have a shopping bag in the other hand. Pretty practical, perfect. Right?

 

Hmm. Then I read a more detailed description. And learn the flipping bag isn’t at all velvet. Its cotton.

 

OK rant really is over now…. Few.

 

How are you all doing? Got any nice plans for the weekend? I’m waiting for my handy man. My aunt came in August. Or was it early September? Can’t remember but I have been asking my lovely handy Andy to come ever since to put a clock up for me and do something with our alarm. He said he would come last week. I text he said sorry next week. I am still waiting and its Friday. I’m about to get my hammer out. Thing is, I could go through a pipe, knowing me I would.  Also the clock is glass. It needs a good hook. It’s pretty, and red and I stupidly put the batteries in the first week I bought it…. By the time it gets hung on the wall. I will need to find new ones.

 

I know Handy Andy will come eventually; he’s a great guy, as is my man who said two years ago he would do my garden. Hahaha oh I found a great joiner too, he was brilliant, and again, I need to give him six months’ notice. Now, who is left? Oh yes how could I forget my toothless painter? Now he does come Okay, he goes too. And takes some time to return, I think because he goes to the pub and forgets where he was beforehand. That is another thing, the pub, when I met him, he was OK. Drank at weekends. Hmm is there a pattern developing? Did I drive him to drink? Hahahahaha. Oh, as for my window cleaners. Really nice guys but I think they must do time…. I’m not joking. They come and go away for six months. Come back and again, half a year goes by and yet when they are here, I ask them if they could come back earlier? They say all full of sincerity. “Oh, yes sure will be back in a month……”

Perhaps they suffer from dyspraxia?

 

Well, two men I can rely on. My Hub and my teen for dinner….. It’s me who has a problem there. Poor teen came in from a long shift at work yesterday it was nine in the evening. I served his dinner, he ate it told me it was delicious bless him, unlike the stew that went in the bin from his plate the night before. Anyways, it was this morning I discovered a dish of roast potatoes I forgot to put on teens plate last night. Bless him, chicken pie, carrots sprouts and?

No spuds, that’s for sure.

 

Well I hope you all have a lovely weekend. Talk very soon. X

OCTOBER STATS AND MUCH MORE

So my Bloggets thank you for another month. Without you this blog wouldn’t be! Will we make it to one hundred thousand views before the New Year? Not sure, I think we will just miss out but as I keep saying, I really never expected to get even one hundred views, let alone a hundred thousand. So far we have 94167 views in total from over seventy countries and I have written 2378 blogs.  

October monthly stats for the top ten countries.

United Kingdom

 1408

United States

700

Russia

130

Germany

81

Portugal

46

Australia

42

South Africa

33

Canada

31

Ukraine

31

France

15

Counting the countries who were not in the top ten, we got over three thousand views this month.

And the top ten in total?

UK

42422

US

25579

Ukraine

7120

Russia

3308

Germany

2198

Canada

839

France

649

Japan

601

Mexico

601

Australia

342

And thank you to the new countries who joined us this month and all of you who just keep coming back and are just out of the top ten. Sadly that is the only stats that are shown to me. On a daily bases I’m shown today we have views from. UK, US, France, Germany, Norway, Belgium, Portugal, South Africa, Canada and Denmark.

Again that is the top ten views. So if you are a viewing Blogget from another country. You are equally as important as you are possibly the only one from your entire country reading. Love to hear from you all and know you are out there. My dearest Bloggets. X

UNIVERSITY BACK IN MY DAY

I recently heard from a few blind students about how hard it is going to university.  Nothing seems to be sorted concerning access to course materials.  It's difficult to get the support you need to get about the university and surrounding area.  Etc etc. However, when you get talking, folks have people beavering away providing essential and non-essential texts, support getting about and so much more.  Yes I'm sure so many aspects of going to university are very hard for blind people but so much has changed since I were a lad.

I first went to university in 1988, but let's go back a little further.  I really had no idea what I wanted to do so kind of fell in to study, no change for so many people these days.  I got relatively little guidance and ended up putting in applications to study English and phonetics - not that you would ever think that given the terrible structure of this blog! I fully expect to feel the full force of grammatical pedantry.

2 out of my 5 universities rejected me and, when pushed, explained that their courses would most likely cause problems for a blind person due to the lack of access to information and "manner of teaching".  It was almost impossible to challenge this in 1988 and so out and out discrimination was alive and well.  I wonder if greater awareness of the issues and ever strengthening regulation and legislation make such discrimination less likely or simply force it in to the dark recesses of what already seem to be murky processes associated with the acceptance or otherwise of university applications.

My secondary education was crafted to perfection in order to deliver the best possible outcome.  In a so-called "special school" of not more than 120 "pupils" - isn't it interesting how the term "student" has developed a much wider application these days - I was carefully spoon-fed a diet of learning designed to deliver only exceptional grades.  My diet had little spice of innovation or creativity of thought but focused on a mix of dictated notes and teacher-chosen experiences.

Is there anything wrong with this?  I certainly gained great grades with minimal effort or risk but I also failed to develop the degree of independent learning and associated skills required at university.

I also had a utopian vision of life in which a microcosmic existence had little to challenge it by way of inaccessibility or the scale and scope of the big bad world where blindness was  largely misunderstood.

I moved from a crafted world to one where I had to find my own way, often literally.  I arrived at a  university hall of residence larger than my school, joining a campus as big as a town and where more than 15000 students thrashed around through fresher's week and the year beyond. No immediate support with getting about.  No access to information.  No access to facilities to cook etc. with the prospect of consuming the wonderfully named "rat burger".

Most students will eventually admit to feelings of fear, anxiety and so much more, but the difference in worlds amplified these to stadium filling proportions for me.

I rapidly realised that I would be undertaking at least 2 degrees - one in my chosen subject, the other in administration. The internet was not much more than an academic curiosity.  Hearing the pips and pushing a coin in the slot, to almost quote the lyrics of "Orchard Road", was as good as phoning anyone got, and the ubiquitous and inaccessible notice board was the bane of my life.  Getting what I needed in terms of information worked out to be a mix of loaning material from various libraries throughout the world, battling departments to give me something I could read, recruiting an army of over 60 readers, jumping out of planes and other stupid things to purchase a £10,000 scanner (now costing less than £100) and so much more.

As I progressed through my course, Chaucer (endless braille volumes and hundreds of cassettes), gave way to Shakespeare, (the Arden edition being in 96 braille volumes requiring around 3 meters of robust shelving). Students realised I was organised - I had no choice - and I realised I could turn disadvantage to advantage by selling them my lecture notes which I took myself on a device that would occasionally spit out the cassette tape used for storage, losing everything you had typed in!

How wonderful it would have been to have someone taking notes for me so I could capture the detail of a text referred to by the sweep of a lecturer's hand, but how much better that the lecturer really thinks about his/her audience and delivers a person-centred learning experience.  I know through conversations with students that we have still got some way to travel with this.

Let me tell you about Joe.  Joe was also a student and I met him in my first year.  He wasn't reading my subject but decided he could help me read.  He turned up at least once a week, often many more times than that, helping me to get through piles of hand-outs and other reading.  Joe also told many of his friends and helped me to build up a pool of over 60 readers who I could call on. I am sure I thanked Joe every time he read for me but I don't know if I REALLY thanked him.  People like Joe make more than a difference, they change lives.  Other such people are those who offer assistance without the expectation of any reward saving the knowledge that they have done something useful. Thank you Joe.

So yes it's very hard and still extremely difficult to get about, find the information you want and study/enjoy university in the same way as everyone else.  However, so many things have changed, not least the terrible attitudes of those who felt it reasonable to refuse me a university place.  Shame forever on you and my 3 degrees give me the last laugh I feel.

There are people to take notes for you, departments who will produce essential and even non-essential texts in a format you can read and even lecturers who might not wince at the prospect of person-centred teaching.  The internet and advances in access technology pose their own challenges but also afford incredible opportunity associated with fully participative learning.  No previous generation of blind people can claim to have experienced such access on every front.

I'm not saying "quit your moaning" but I am saying people might celebrate advances on so many levels, helping to roll that stone a little further..

great brittain

OK are you all sitting in comfort? Are you ready to be filled with some facts? Here goes.

 

Great Brittish inventers. Now, funny how most of them have three names, two belonging to family sir names. Must have been a thing of the times, to take both parents names? Here is a list of just a few brilliant inventions, with the odd exception of for example, the military tank….

 

William Addis Toothbrush 1770

“What did they use before then?

Centuries ago, cloths were used and for toothpaste they used, wait for it?

Ashes made from Ox Hooves and burned eggshells. As for William Addis himself? He invented the toothbrush after spending time in prison. He asked his guard to bring him some Pig bristles. And he glued them to a bone from his dinner.

Peter Duran the tin can, 1808

Joseph Aspin cement, 1824

  George Stephenson Passenger railway, 1825

Edwin Beard Budding Lawnmower, 1827 budding got the idea, from a cloth cutting machine. It took ten years to get it to the stage where by animals could be used to work the cutters.  And sixty years later before a steam powered lawn mower was invented.  

Henry William Fox Talbot Photography, 1835

    Js Fry & Sons Chocolate bar, 1847. In 1822 Fry owned the shop with his family. It eventually became a division of Cadbury’s and so sadly the factory was closed in 2010 so that Craft could take over. This day was a tragic day for England. For English chocolate, in my opinion the best in the world, no, Universe as we in the UK after all, can buy (Mars bars and Milky Ways) just some more of Great Britain we have sold.  

Alexander Wood Hypodermic syringe, 1853

Alexander Graham Bell Telephone, 1876

Joseph Swan lightbulb, 1880

   Sir James Dewar Thermos flask, 1892 Dewar, was Scottish. He invented the flask as a result in the field of cryogenics whilst performing experiments in determining the specific heat of the element of palladium.  He formed a brass chamber that he enclosed in another chamber to keep the palladium at a desired temperature. The Dewar flask design was never patented some German men discovered the commercial use for the product thermos and claimed the rights and trademark.

Hubert CecilBooth Electric vacuum cleaner, 1901

Harry Brearley Stainless steel, 1913

Ernest Swinton Military tank, 1914

John Logie Baird Television, 1925

Percy Shaw cats eye for the roads, 1933. This man was from Yorkshire and never married. He died aged 86 and it was reported that in his later years he removed all carpets from his home and had three televisions on at all times. For each channel as of course until not that long ago, we in the UK only had three channels. Those were the days. Quality over quantity.

Frank Whittle Jet engine, 1937

Tommy Flowers Programmable Computer, 1943. Flowers was the son of a bricklayer. He was an incredibly intelligent man and was asked to build a decoding machine for world war two.

Peter Hobbs electronic kettle, 1955

John Charnley hip replacement, 1962. He was a Surgeon.

Owen Maclaran Collapsible baby buggy, 1965. He also invented the Spitfire undercarriage. It was when his daughter visited him with his first grandchild he saw his daughter struggling with the push chair.

Tim Burners Lee World wide web, 1989

Gosh we have come on so far since WWW? And I’m not talking wrestling? Smile.

 

Now you know why I have been quiet on here for the past 48 hours? A lot of research. I hope you find this kind of knowledge of some interest? If not, I will be back to my normal blogs soon. Just been busy in the office of late loads of work to be done and to juggle housework with being here for my Son a difficult age to manage, though our road is so smooth of late I’m still rather reluctant to relax too much. I have been writing a lot for my Hubs office and doing some interviews this keeps the old grey matter working somewhat.

 

Had a lovely chat with my Niece on the phone the other day. Sadly she didn’t make it here to see me. And my brother called me after his much needed break in the US.

 

Hub had a nice meeting with his eldest daughter. And today I had some great news about a friend I was concerned about.

 

So my fingers tapping on the key board either to write or to text making sure all is Okay in the world of planet Fifi!

WINTER BELLS OF LOVE BY FIONA CUMMINGS

WINTER BELLS FOR LOVE

BY FIONA CUMMINGS

The snow swaddled the earth like a Mother would an infant child

The wind beat against my face it was so wild

The moon winked at me from the clouds above

My heart sang with me words of love

Silver stars danced in the moonlit sky

Icicles formed tears as though to cry

Shining brightly in blue

 Was the church we were to meet

Twas there you swept me off my feet

In your arms

With golden charms

Your frozen lips did melt

Deep emotions I felt

You were like God himself

As powerful

So beautiful

My heart was to you dutiful

Your hand in mine

We took the wine

We bowed our head

As we ate the bread

As far as I was concerned

We were there alone

I didn’t see the congregation

The wind howled its mighty objection

Through the old wooden building

My love for you was spilling

Overflowing

Inside I was warm

Outside it was snowing

It was for you I had been born

But we had to kiss goodnight

To the tune from the golden horn

And the beat of the drum

On a promise for more fun

A lifetime a head

A silver spoon we had been fed

As I felt blessed to the highest point

Our fingers joint

As your eyes waltzed in the reflection of mine

Together till the end of time

 

Copyright Fiona Cummings 2015

THE WALK OF FEAR

Good evening Bloggets. Few, after my last rather thought provoking blog, I thought I best come back with something ever so slightly lighter?

 

Or perhaps not. Let’s see as I never ever know what I’m going to write about. Seriously, unless I’ve been specifically asked to write about something, if it’s up to me, I just chat on line as I would in the same room as you...

 

Today my Brother and Sister in Law fly back from the US. Smile, I didn’t even know they had gone until I saw it on Facebook. I had been told, but it was so long ago and my memory is scary. Today I learned that my youngest Niece is in Cyprus…. Really? Hahaha. Okay.

 

As for my older Niece coming today with her children and puppy? Well, that’s another story.

 

When I wrote my earlier blog, I said Hub was at work away, he is still not home and it’s now seven. He left the house at half seven this morning so will be a long day.

 

I really didn’t want to go out earlier, but I’m delighted to say I did. It was awful though. I don’t think I will ever get used to going out.

 

Already the sky I’m sure was dark it just had that feeling. The sky seemed to be low and that sounds silly I know, but I felt as though if I were to reach up high, I would be able to touch the clouds. Now I know this is impossible, don’t worry, I haven’t totally lost the plot. Just that was how it felt to my broken vision.

 

Turning corners up and down steps. Passing all of the thick polluted traffic as Wagga and I went by. Now Waggs isn’t a fan of going out in the dark, I guess it would have been dusk. As though the late afternoon was kissing the evening to greet the night in.

 

Once again the smell of smoky wood in the air. From I guess wood burners.

 

The odd fire work went off as it’s almost that time of year again in the UK.   Guy Fawkes Night. My Wagga doesn’t seem afraid so that is good. Especially as we had to go out.

 

Oh the traffic. It was at a standstill without a space in between the vehicles. All the engines were on and I felt so dizzy and confused. But I kept calm even though for part a large part of the walk, I felt as though I had ventured onto the road. Were the cars stopping for me? No, don’t be stupid Fiona.

 

The nasty branches once again atact me but not as bad as in the past. Poor little Wagga was almost on her knees. She didn’t like the cars. I won’t make that mistake again going out in the dark and in bad traffic time. I just thought it would be good for her as we never ever go out in the dark and it’s something she really should do in case of an emergency I just wasn’t banking on so much traffic.

 

Anyway, we got back home and only because my beautiful guide dog lead the way. I really needed her relied on her totally tonight and she worked. Funny thing when we got back I fed her and let her out then she went back to her bed and has been there ever since. I think she is exhausted just with stress bless her. But I really am happy in myself that I did it. I was able to do our jobs and I now feel so pleased with myself because it was a difficult challenge that I really should do more of. Rather than the simple walks to the shops in quiet sunny times.

 

When I had sight, I had and of course still have RP. This meant though at the time I could see, I couldn’t see in the dark. No way I would or could have gone out. I love that freedom. It’s almost like seeing. I can go out in the dark and walk about. It’s amazing. Mind you, my eyes were playing tricks. Though I know it was dark my eyes were seeing white. So in front of me was a sheet of bright white light. A blanket of white. No shadows nothing, and I kept telling myself, oh gosh I’m in the wrong place as it should be shady here as I know there are trees? If no shade, no trees wrong road. But then sounds and the feelings under my feet spoke with my brain and I was back on track.

 

I do feel sick inside though I have not been able to have any dinner as really, I am still shaking. I really think I am the worst person when it comes to independence out of the home. I feel like I have been on a horrific roller coaster. Just got off. Loud music playing can’t hear anything familiar dizzy but excited to have had such a thrill.

 

OK will go for now, but want to say, thank you all for being here on my journey. X

DIARY SO DEEP MARS VENUS AND A GALAXY

Good day Bloggets. How are we all today? Well, Teen is out and Hub working. So it’s little Waggs Canary and myself. And the droning sounds from my dryer.

 

I made a stew for dinner. Only thing is, it looks a little thin. May have to do some magic with the corn flower.

 

Got to go out with Waggs later and not looking forward to it. It’s so cold and dull out there. Just went to the garage and really its not nice. Mind you, if my Hub was to see me he would tell me that I was dressed for summer….. Slight exaggeration, but not far wrong.

 

Talking with a friend, we really can say that we just can’t understand Teens of today. I can’t get into the mind set of Teenagers. Whilst I’m proud of my Son and all that he has achieved, his mind is complex. Okay, mine is too, but Teens? Really one needs an ology in the Psyche of a teenager.

    

If men are from Mars and women are from Venus, Teens are from a galaxy we have not even given a name for yet.

 

I have come to the conclusion that a teenager thrives on outwardly being a rebel. If a teenager can get a reaction, they get their kicks. They find an avenue to walk down to discover what is there and a stage to act out their emotions and if there is fire between parent and child, in that Childs mind, they will be a hero to themselves and put out or down the fire.

 

A teenager cannot keep boiling water bubbling inside of them. The steam has to get out somewhere.

 

So a common scene a teenager may say to you. “Well you did it, so why can’t I?” I guess your answer could be. “I didn’t have anyone to tell me what it would be like, so I had to learn the hard way, by my own mistakes. I don’t want you to make unnecessary mistakes.”

 

Teens are on the cusp of adulthood. They are and always will be our children. It’s difficult to let go. Also, it’s such a grown up world these days. My Son has been working since he was fifteen. Sleeping overnight with his ex, drinking beer, granted permission by her wicket Mother. What could I do other than kick him out? Do that and they will go gladly? As they have money because they work if they don’t have money, it’s easy to make it illegally. So by telling your child if they do this or that, they will have to find another place to live, you are handing them a passport to leave the safety of your home.

 

The past three years have been so very difficult. I can say now thank goodness, life is calming down. My Son came home from work yesterday evening rather late, gosh; I was so impressed with him. He is talking so differently he is as if in his thirties. The responsibility he has been given at work is phenomenal.

 

The pride I feel is somewhat incredulous. Is this my little boy? How did he get to this place? He was my little cute kid with tiny hand in mine slightly afraid of walking down the stairs at home in fear on Christmas day St Nicholas was still there. He was the little boy who cried out for me when having nightmares. He was the child full of so much love. Then he was abducted by aliens and possessed by a poisonous person who got pleasure from feeding a potion into the mind of my Son.

 

We got through that battle and now I can say I think the war is coming to an ending, though I won’t say its over until my Son reaches his next stage in life. I think we are fifty per cent through the battle. Let’s hope just the tidying up to do now to rebuild the warzone place and carry on the journey of parenting a teenager.

 

My Son has shown signs of a true friend of late to someone who needed him. His maturity has come from this troubled tortured soul who can now heal and be fixed.

 

I’m so far keeping it all together as there was a point that I honestly thought I just couldn’t cope and this killed me as my boy and I have always had a bond that was like glue. We stuck together through thick and thin. Just me and him. But we both branched out and now we know that we are there for one another forever.

 

I have been that nurse, that psychologist and teacher. That loving Mother and mad woman who can’t take much more.

 

Chasing after rainbows and trying to catch my shadows. Climbing that mountain, and never thinking I could get to the top. I’m not there yet, but I can see the peak and there is a chair up there waiting for me with a golden cushion on it and once I do get there, wow, the view will be so good. But as I said, a long way to go, but those trees on the way were knocked down, I have to plant them again and watch them grow.

 

Let’s hope they grow to be healthy and bare fruits plentiful and buds with perfume that will fill the air with nature’s finest floral offerings.

 

I feel for any parent with a teenager. Now some are lucky, some parents don’t have any bother, I personally have never met one. But I have had messages letters and emails from parents who say their kids are fine. Well, one, how old is your child? As I swear, if they are over twenty one, then you got there just in time, this eerier is exclusive to kids between thirteen and twenty one. I don’t know why or how, was there some kind of teaching course went on perhaps? A new way of teaching our kids? Is there a new chemical in foods that affect kids of that age now?

 

Some will say all teens throughout history have been like this. No…. I can tell you. This is different. This is a time where teens won’t be told, they won’t be reasoned with they are in charge. The parent is helpless.

 

So for those who say their kids are great without complications, well, I am sorry, I have to ask, really? Are they?  Do you really know what your children are up to? Are they really studying in the library? Do their clothes smell of smoke because it’s their friend, who is smoking in front of your child? Is that sweet smell really from a can of fizzy pop that got spilled? Did they really sleep over at their pal’s house? Really? And that outfit you bought your child to wear, did they keep that on or did they go around the corner or at a friend’s house and change? Hmm. Really?

 

On reflection, my child doesn’t smoke or do drugs that I know of. I always make sure I do the sniff test…. Last time he went drinking was about three weeks ago. And he got hammered drunk. But at least not every week. But boy, the past three years has been hell. And I know he would say for himself too. I also know when he is older; he will look back and reflect on his behaviour. But it’s getting there.

 

So for those who are struggling, I don’t have an answer. I really don’t. For parents whose hearts are breaking please, hang in there, hold your heart in your hands and protect it as one day that heart I hope, will beat as one again with your child’s. No matter how old our kids are, they will forever be our children.  I am sure I have an ulcer in my stomach with all of the hellish times and worries I have had and to a degree, still me are having.  But the good is by far out weighing the bad now.

 

As I said earlier, for now! Know you are not alone. I’m sure you will feel as if you are time to time. Equally as I’m sure you feel you are in a worse place than anyone else. You love your child more than any other parent can possibly love their child. No love is as deep as yours.

 

Yep. Me too. Let’s climb this mountain together and I hope it will be like childbirth…. A pain like no other but one you seem to forget as you have more children. Perhaps that mountain one day will seem like a rugged hill.

OCTOBER DIARY

October. Our clocks in the UK changed during the night the early hours of Sunday. So now it’s dark at six and though the darkness no longer bothers me, the feeling of not being able to sit outside, does.

 

Why on earth do we want darker nights? Why? They say it’s for the farmers. Well, as my blog said yesterday when it comes to murdering geese, stuff the farmers. OK. May have lost me two Bloggets, I hope not as one of them used to be a boyfriend. Haha. Many many years ago way back when….

 

Today the sun shines through my window. I haven’t been out today so cabin fever setting in but at least my Wagga got out yesterday. Tomorrow I have to pop to the shop early to buy some tuna for teen. He lives on that. Tuna and pasta. I can’t keep up. Seems like only a week ago I bought him eight cans, and he had non for work today, so missing at least one. I really should go now and perhaps I will as tomorrow may be raining.

 

My eldest Niece is coming with her two children. So, my great Nephew and Niece and an addition that is rather making my Teen excited. They have a puppy German Shepard. Oh that will be the cutest thing in the world. I wonder if they will realise they don’t have it in their car if I hide her? Just a little toy for Waggatail? Well, think of the money she will save if she leaves it with Great Aunt Fi?

Just a thought.

 

Yesterday afternoon I made a huge quiche and a mince pie. There is nothing left. No wonder Hub and I look like two wobbling penguins. OK. One side may be a little more on the wobbly side, but hey ho.

 

Our weekend really went far too fast. I didn’t like it. We didn’t do anything other than try to tidy our garden. Hmm. Are you sitting comfortably, waiting for the gardener saga?

Well, my man is a great gardener. Brilliant at whatever he does. Either patio path or fence. We have been trying to get him since December 2013 He told me to call back in the spring. I did. He by then was fully booked. He said to call back late summer. I did, he didn’t reply. So January 2014, I called again. He said he would come in April. He didn’t. So I text him so many times. Summer, he said to call after holiday. I did. He had a bad back. So December 2014 he told me he would be at mine first. No. nothing.

 Now into fifteen. All year he has said he would come. At last two weeks ago, he came out. He said he would price it up. Now he told me he charged £15 per hour. Hmm. After eleven days he told me my tiny garden would be £204

That’s a lot of hours? He is the best and I can trust his work so we said yes and if you remember we were quoted over £3000 early summer. So £204 was better. Not too sure thirteen and a half hours though will be spent on my garden? Unless I’m being charged for the neighbours, next door, and the door after? I said OK. We will pay no trouble. He then text me back to tell me he couldn’t do it.

Oh I was furious. I text back telling him how disappointed I was and how I thought when he did our drive. He promised he would maintain it at a cost. Now he is going back on his word. I said that I wouldn’t bother him again but how sad I was as he is the best. He wrote back, suddenly he had time in November. Hmm. Will he? Let’s see, I’m not contacting him again. I really hope he will come and all will be fine, Hub and I really tried in the garden yesterday but failed miserably. November is only days away.

 

I asked teen if he would cut the roses for us. Once again Hub tried but when you have to feel them it’s not pleasant. We shall see if he does them. As this week is the last week for our garden bin. No more collection for at least half a year. And we have no way of getting rid of the foliage.

 

Once again, not sure teen will do the roses. In fact I’m almost sure he won’t. I wish I could bloody see.

 

I read a story yesterday about lady who went to her local food shop where she was told she wasn’t allowed her guide dog. She explained that it was a guide dog and he told her in a rude manner to leave. Now as she said, her confidence has been shattered. If only people knew what we went through to step out of the door. To get to her goal and be humiliated like that. In front of other customers. She said that she doesn’t want to go to that shop again. Poor lady. I feel for her.

 

Hub on a train to in his words a dark place tomorrow. Where he used to live. He is going to help out at an office there. He also is meeting with his eldest daughter, so at least some light at the end of the day.

 

It’s that time of year again when I try to talk with you all about elderly people. Please give a thought for those living on their own? For those who have just had to place their spouse in a home for the elderly?

 

There is nothing worse than feeling alone. Sometimes people seem to have a big family an yet they are left alone. Unable to leave the house. I oftern talk about blind people who can’t leave their homes, so I know what this is like, but spare a thought for your elderly neighbour too? One day it could be you.

 

It is worrying Hub and I about Hubs Dad. When our brother leaves for Australia, we really don’t know how he will cope. We have another brother but the one leaving for Australia, spent so much time with his Dad. They were like best friends. I fear my Father in law will go downhill fast. I hope I’m proven wrongly. It’s a funny one, as my father in law goes far to his caravan in Scotland, and yet we live half that distance away, but he never comes here unless he is with my brother in law. I will miss our brother so much. To get to my Father in laws house, it’s a taxi, train, and then a pick up. Now, normally my brother in law would collect us from the station. It’s half an hour drive from there. But now he will be going to Au, that can’t happen. My father in law, his sight isn’t good now with old age. How he gets to Scotland is beyond me. So not sure it’s the safest thing to be collected by him and my other brother in law works so many hours.

 

Last time, teen took us through. Its forty five minutes in the car. To do taxi train and car, it’s about one and a half hours. Each way of course. What we will have to do is get a taxi from the station to Dads house. It will be a costly day but one we will have to make. I do worry about him so much though.

 

Our brother is leaving for Australia before Christmas. I wish him well. He is a lovely guy. Apart from of course when he is shooting geese…

 

Teen just rang to let me know he won’t be doing the roses tomorrow. He may on Wednesday  

 

Must arrange a get together with my friend Geordie. Missing her. Been weeks since I saw her. Also Di my neighbour not had time to turn around so much writing to do. I finished the speeches and poem I was asked to write this morning. I can’t publish it as it is especially for this lovely couple who asked me to keep it only for them. It’s a shame; it’s so lovely and left me with a warm feeling.

 

Sometimes it’s funny, I’m asked to write for a wedding for a couple. I talk with them and it is so obvious that they are not right for one another and then I have to write a poem about being together forever and in love….. That is called a challenge. As I can’t just put words together I have to make the reader be there in the same place as the words…

 

Hub and I have been watching the UKs X Factor.

What a load of rubbish. Really, I don’t quite know what on earth has gone on this year. The way in which it’s produced is simply awful. The music is so loud during the judges talking; we can’t hear what they are saying. It is so manic. I guess they are trying to aim for a younger audience. Hmm. Well, I think they have lost us to oldies.

 

Just received another call. This time for a talk I have been asked to do so another speech. This time to another school. Checking my diary, this is two in a row. Two days in a row that is. Well, on day one, it is a good rehearsal for Waggs for day two.

 

Also received another text which saddened me. I will let you know when others have been told…. Let’s just say, plans have been squished….

 

A strange start to what I hope to be an OK week, though lots on our minds. Hub and I are going through another chapter. No one can say our lives have not faced challenges and new beginnings. Good job we love one another so much.

 

Before I go, some time to reflect.

Life is not a problem to be solved, but a reality to be experienced   

Soren Kierkegaard

 

Do not dwell on the past, your history can not be erased, but your future has yet to be written, so make the most of what is going to happen instead of worrying about what you cannot change.

 

“Why hang onto heavy baggage? Put it down, your heart won’t cope with it. Your mind hurts with it. Your eyes cry with the weight. Your body doesn’t need it.”  

Fiona Cummings

With love.

DIARY OF A FLUFFY SUNDAY

Good morning Bloggets. It’s Sunday. Sunny outside and I have a happy Wagga. She is on a free run loving every bit of it. She no doubt will come back filthy wet and out of breath, but I will be delighted to know she has had some her, time.

 

I’m completely won up about Christmas. Firstly all three kids have said they don’t want much. If anything. So now it’s down to Mummy and Daddy trying to be in the minds of teens today. That isn’t a good place to be….

 

As for my Hub? Oh my goodness. He is almost impossible to buy for and everything he has expressed he loves in the past, I have already bought him. Now then, my Aunt G? Oopsie. There’s a story and a half. Let’s just say we had words the other night. I had just about enough…. She has kind of made up today, and I almost wish she hadn’t. Why? Long story.

 

Hub was telling me about the cutest toy you can buy for kids or people in their forties called Fiona….

Oh no, sorry, not sure where that last sentence came from

Anyway its one of those Fur real toys it’s a cuddly elephant and when it’s scared, he closes his eyes. He drinks and plays with a ball. Oh OH please Santa? I bought my Son one of those but it was a cat. He was about four and it was so cute. But an ephalump? Even more so.

 

Teen seems to be working every hour and needs so much as in a car and a holiday next year with his friends, but doesn’t seem to have the ability to save, mind you, when it costs £15 for two chicken burgers and £5 for a coffee when he meets with a friend in our town? It soon goes. Also he is spending £200 per month on petrol. As suspected, his Father hasn’t helped out at all. I knew he wouldn’t. Three years of payment for an eighteen year old Son I am sure killed him to part with the money. As for the other fifteen years and the next few? Down to me as per normal.

 

My Hub and I are suffering from cabin fever but to be honest, there are worse off people in the world. I’m just so glad Hub is at least getting to work. Some blind people never get out. My heart aches for them.

 

Teen working today again and I’m going to bake a pie for dinner for him coming home. I have some mince in the oven smelling rather lovely, even though I’m a vegetarian, I still think about the days when I tasted delicious meat. Having said that, I have no regrets about stopping eating meat and never will go back to it. Only yesterday gave me that sad feeling as my brother in law text me to tell me he had been shooting and murdered 45 geese. It’s sick and during the night, we heard the worst sound. I fear that the geese on the lake were being terrorised again. It was a dreadful sound. Screaming squawking and so on. It was about two this morning. There was a banging sound too, either shooting or something equally sinister.

 

People like that must have poison running through their veins. As for my brother in law? I love him and he is so beautiful with us, I have to stop myself thinking about the evil he does to animals when we are together. To him he is doing a favour to the farmers. Stuff the farmers. Really. Stuff them.

 

Well as for football. My team are playing today and I think they are going to get beat big time. Newcastle United v Sunderland. They are rivals even though they are both from the North.

 

If you are from the UK, you know I really love wall nut whips. So you will know what they are? For those who don’t, they are a cone shape chocolate with a kind of marshmallow cream in the middle with a walnut on the top. Well you can now buy the inside of the whip in a jar. Yummy blooming yummy. Apparently it’s good with hot chocolate. Must put that on my list next week. Its called fluff.

 

My brother is on holiday in Florida I didn’t know he was there until I saw it on facebook. And not sure when he is due back, I hope he and my Sister in Law, are having a lovely time. I’m sure they will be.  

 

My diary is filling up for work this month. I had a meeting with a couple the other day with regards speeches and a poem they want me to write. And I have two talks to give this month as well. One of them is to a school with almost three hundred children. Gosh I hope Wagga will be good? She wasn’t yesterday at the station. She tried to eat a ladies pasty during collecting for Guide Dogs. She also wouldn’t stand or sit still. But Hub said in the four hours he stood there he filled three tins and received a kind cheque and details of a lady who wishes to leave a legacy after she dies. Bless her soul. There were lots of volunteers there collecting I hope who raised lots of money. Do you know Guide Dogs UK spend 47 million pounds per year? That is all charity money.

 

OK Hub in the garden, must go and help. Later with love.

DIARY OF A SPOOKY SATURDAY

I have about ten minutes to write this blog. I have really enjoyed writing the blog I just posted about cottages. Oh I love them. OK Whilst I’m newly spooked, I shall try to compose myself. So Here I am. In my sitting room as when I was writing my last blog, I was in my conservatory. A place I always write better and I find myself writing totally different kinds of words. I have what I call a semi guilt free morning of writing. I say semi, as when Hub comes back, I would feel bad if I just said I have sat on my butt. Hence only having ten minutes to write before this Mamma duzza som cooking…..

 

So my hands were becoming so numb in there I had to relocate to the lounge. Warmer now, canary, Irish, is eating for now so it’s quiet. Quiet because I don’t have my little Waggatail. She and Hub are off to collect for Guide Dogs in our local area. So with his smile and words of wisdom. And my girls cute face and wagging tail, let’s hope along with the other volunteers, some money will be raised.

 

OK. Why spooked? Well, my old Bloggets will know that I’m a little bit of a spooky cookie. I in my past have seen and heard things not from this world. Or were they? I don’t have those answers. I sware I heard my Hubs last guide dog LC but it really wasn’t a peaceful time. I won’t be telling Hub this one.

 

As I sat in my lounge, I heard her grumble as she used to lie down. We used to laugh as we told her down; she would always have the last say with a grumble. So, that would have been alright, but then it followed by crying. I know you all think I’m mad. I don’t mine. But because I also think I am mad, I am telling myself it was something else. Though what? I don’t know.

 

So the heating, OK, that is what sceptics would say. And it could have been, though not sure when my heating made the sound of a dog grumbling. As for it crying? Nope. Never heard my radiators making that sound either. So what is left? My bird? Yep, that is what it was…. My bird doing the impression of a dog.

 

The thing is the crying. I didn’t like that. In fact our LC never cried. The crying was more like our Wagga, as she cries all of the time even when she has been out and about, she would work forever, though sadly she doesn’t. I need more places to go and a new outlook on life.

 

My little old retired dog Black beauty came back after a week; do you remember me writing about it? Even Hub had to agree it was her. But LC? No. Sadly she hasn’t unless that was her before, but I don’t think so it wasn’t obvious enough for me to believe it strongly. Oh but then I think, what if it was her and she can’t get through whatever barrier to get to me? As the crying was as though from another room. As a child, I knew that I could bring back my Nanna if I wanted. I fought it like you wouldn’t know. And I think if I were still as psychic as I were back then, I would still be able to and who knows, maybe now, I would be OK with it, but at fifteen? No…. Not on your Nellie.

 

I have memories of myself running out of rooms before. Totally freaked out. Also my Son when a child saw things but from the age of eleven, he started to tell me it was his imagination. I never encouraged what he said or saw, nor did I discourage. I kind of kept quiet and tried to remain still and calm, though to be honest, I felt bad as I thought I have passed on a curse.

 

Wherever our Long Chops is now, if anywhere, I hope she is happy and not crying trying to get to me. That breaks my heart. Oh so badly I want to cuddle her again. Will the pain ever go? Can you believe it’s been five weeks since we lost her? Six weeks since Hub and I ventured into our town. Six weeks since we have been able to go to our bank, city shops and more. Though Hub is with our little Waggs today, he went by taxi and won’t of course work her. Mind you, trying to work our girl in the town? It’s a definite no no. Hence why Hub has took his white cane too. Haha.

 

Oh, I weighed myself today. I lost a lb. Yep, how? I’m not sure. I got on my scales three times so I hadn’t made an error. That is the first time in weeks I have lost rather than gained. Gosh, I need to lose about five stone. Oh I wish it were easy? My brother has lost about twenty stone in two years. Only thing is, he keeps going on holiday so he will eat I guess holiday food? Wow though he has done amazing. I never ever thought I would see my brother as small.

 

Teen working a big man’s shift today. Ten hours. He left the house at seven and won’t be back till seven with the long drive. He just text me saying he has the food of a little girl today. Well, last night after coming in from work, he ate his dinner I cooked. A chicken dinner. Then said he was so tired, he was going to bed. Hmm. Well, ten minutes later, he is off out. Didn’t get back till half past midnight. Was I heck going to make his lunch for today like I normally do? I told him before he left that he should make it he said he was too tired. But not too tired to stay out late knowing he had to be up less than six hours later. With a long shift a head.  So no doubt he will be starving tonight.

OK, must dash now and get domesticated. Hahaha. OH gosh, it’s Saturday… When Hub comes home, I guess we will have the old man’s sport on again? Hehehe. Bless him. Have a lovely weekend and I hope something will happen that is so very different for you, in a good way. X

 

COTTAGE LIVING BY FIONA CUMMINGS

A cottage is typically a small house. The word comes from England. Where originally it was a house which had ground floor with a lower story of bedrooms which fit within the roof space. In many places, a cottage is used to describe a small old fashioned house. In modern usage, the word is used to depict a cosy dwelling, typically in a rural location.

 

I believe in the US, the word cottage is used to describe a holiday home. In Canada, there are no connotations with regards the size at all. I’m sure in Scotland; a cottage is called a croft. Finish cottages are built from logs and almost all of them have a sauna. Sounds so lovely.  

 

In Russian a cottage is known as a Dacha, which is a summer home oftern not too far from a body of water. I have written before about our time spent in a dacha. Sadly now days I’m not sure a dacha in Russia will have the same feeling or atmosphere. More like a luxurious manor now I reccon!

 

 In Dutch, a cottage is called keuterij; In Norwegian the word is hytte, from the German word hutte.     

Sorry to my friends in those countries if I have wrongly spelled those words.

 

Originally in the Middle Ages, cottages housed agricultural workers and their families. The term cottage denoted the dwelling of a cotter. Thus cottages were smaller peasant buildings.

 

Now days a cottage doesn’t really have any land, but in the Elizabethan statute, the cottage had to be built with at least four acres of land and    the owner of the cottage would be known as a cottager.  

 

Our typical old cottages have exposed timber. They also have restricted height. They normally have four basic rooms. Two up and two down. Upstairs is smaller than down as the bedrooms are in the roof space. Though subsequent modifications can create more spacious accommodation.

 

So how did I decide upon writing about cottages today? Its winter and I love the fact that it can feel cosy. I always dream of a cosy Christmas and who knows, perhaps in my future, I really hope, this is my dream, I can be in a Christmas cottage with an amber log fire burning the fragrance of wood smoking from the chimney, a lit up Christmas tree with the smell of fresh ferns coming from the decorations tied on the needles by collected ribbons all the history of our past Christmases on one tree. And under the tree are gifts for all of my family. Now that family have not arrived as yet, and who knows, they may never. My ideal dream is as follows.

 

All of our three children are (happily) married. The love they have for their partners and its clearly returned will be beautiful. And they have at least one child each. Echoes of laughter can be heard as I’m in the kitchen making hot chocolate for the family. Hahaha. And all of this takes part in a typical English cottage.

 

Now in the summer, the cottages are so different. I imagine baked smells. Freshly made biscuits. Cookies. And the rustic kitchen table is full of happy eaters. Outside the cottage has a totally different feel. The cottage has romantic connotations. A small rickety gate leads you down a narrow path framed with peach coloured roses and yellow chrysanthemums. I love that idea.