Happy Easter!

Life is like a carousel, with it's ups and downs, highs and lows, excitement at the speed and sometimes a sick feeling when it all gets too much and you need to stop for awhile and set your feet back on the ground.


As we ride the carousel of life, sometimes we want to go faster, sometimes we want to shout 'Stop! I want to get off!' and sometimes we just want to feel the wind in our hair.


May the ride on your own particular carousel be gentle and sweet with a little excitement thrown in for good measure.

I wish peace, love, harmony and joy to all my friends and loved ones on this Easter Day.

The Glory Days

When I was a child there was just one thing I wanted.....well, no, of course that's not strictly true.....I was a child, therefore there were lots of things I wanted and like most children, the objects of my desire changed from week to week, from season to season. However, one thing stayed consistent . I wanted a Knickerbocker  Glory. A Knickerbocker Glory...what's that?....I hear you ask. Take a look at the photo and you will see. It was a towering confection of luridly colored ice cream, whipped cream, nuts, multi-colored sprinkles, a few bits of fruit thrown in for good measure and a wafer on top - and it was HUGE! If I saw one now it would probably be a most unimpressive sight, but in the eyes of my infant self, it was ENORMOUS.

My mother would never let me have one. Why? (I'm sure you're wondering). Surely it must have been because it was unhealthy -  nothing more than a trembling mass of fat, sugar and E numbers - or maybe because she feared it's rich sugariness would make me sick..... but no, the answer to my unchanging request was always the same: 'You can't have one because you won't finish it'. Maybe she was right, but, you know Ma, it would have been so nice to try!

Every Saturday morning my mother would go and have her hair done. Do you remember the days of the 'hair do'? You do? Wow, I didn't realize you were that old!
For those that aren't so old or whose memories are fading, the hairdo was better known as a 'shampoo and set'. Hordes of women all over the civilized world trooped valiently to their local hair salon to have their weekly 'do'. They all seemed to emerge with the same (seriously unflattering) hairstyle - yes, you know the one I mean. Short, kinda curly and rock hard from a copious spraying of 'laquer'.

One salon in our hometown used to proudly boast 'A style for every face! Yes, whatever your face shape or features, our talented stylists can create an individual style to suit you!' Hmm.....it seems a lot of women in our town had the same face. But I digress.....

My father and I would meet my mother in a cafe just around the corner from the hair salon, for a post 'shampoo and set' lunch. Every week the question would be asked:'What would you like to eat?' Why did they ask when they knew the answer? I...want...a...Knickerbocker Glory! My mother would sigh, roll her eyes, open her mouth and say.....well, you already know what she said. I would point at the other children, manically scraping at the bottom of their sundae glasses so as not to miss the tiniest blob of creamy deliciousness and say: 'He finished his and she finished hers!' But no, my mother would not be moved, her decision was final.

So now I have been an adult for many a long year, but I have still never had a Knickbocker Glory. Of course, now I could buy my own. In fact, I could even make one myself, I'm sure. However, now I don't  want one. In fact, to my mature eye they actually look pretty unappealing. This thought leaves me just a little uncomfortable. I have a sneaky feeling that my mother could be proved right....if I have one...I won't finish it!

New Year Resolution....or not

Have you made your New Year Resolution yet? Well, have you? What is it? Do tell! Have you vowed to give up smoking or alcohol? Have you pledged to limit your chocolate intake, to lose weight, or to exercise more frequently? Have you promised to become a better wife, husband, parent or to be more discerning in your choice of sexual partners or friends? Or, like me, have you not bothered, as you know that New Year Resolutions are made to be broken and will inevitably lead to a year of mentally berating yourself because you failed to keep a promise made by you to you? Doesn't it seem a rather pointless exercise unless of course you are one of those rare, tremendously strong individuals for whom failure is simply not an option.

Why not make 2010 the year when you try to simply be a better, more whole, more rounded version of you? The complete you that deep inside, you have always wanted to be. There can be no failure.... for each baby step, each kind word uttered or good deed performed will be an achievement of the highest order. Doing something that makes you feel good, when done with love, will inevitably make you feel better about yourself.

The dawning of a new year once again presents you with the opportunity to enhance your own true greatness. Love yourself, for you are the perfection of life.

2010, the year to simply Be

Tell me a story......

Tell me a story.....for who amongst us doesn't have a tale to tell? A tale of life and death; of laughter and tears; of love found and love lost; of shattered dreams and dreams come true; of loss of hope and hope that rises again like the phoenix from the ashes.


Yes, we all have our own tales, each one as individual and unique as we are ourselves.Each life with layer upon layer of stories, interwoven and as complex as the steps in the most intricate of dances.


Some of us will travel and our minds will record amazing and wondrous sights from far off lands, while others will go nowhere and live out their whole lives in the same small community. For them perhaps, the most wondrous sight of their lives will be when they first look into another's eyes and recognize love, or when they gaze at the face of their newborn child for the very first time.


Whose life is the most enriched? Who can say? Certainly not I.


I wonder too....do we come into this world as blank slates upon which life will write our fates, or do we arrive carrying with us the memories of our ancestors, generation upon generation, buried deep within our subconscious?


What of the walls of our houses? Do our struggles and fights, our tragedies and laughter seep into the very framework of our homes and create a record for all time that will in some way affect the generations to come? A haunting thought.....or just a haunting perhaps?


I believe our life experiences are what makes us.....molds us.....for would we be the same had our paths through life taken very different twists and turns?


So why not, if you can, find the time in your busy, busy lives to sit with a friend, or two, or three and tell your stories, one to another? I promise you they will all be different and each day, each week, will breathe life into yet another new tale.


For our stories, you see, will survive far longer than these bodies of ours and maybe....just maybe, the air and the walls around us will hold the memory of who we were and what we aspired to be and a part of us will live forever.

THE PURSUIT OF FULFILLMENT

Yesterday was my birthday and a time for a little reflection. Do you remember how as children, we were often asked the question 'What do you want to be when you grow up?'

Note: what do you want to be, as if your chosen career will somehow define the very essence of you. Would any parent, teacher, career advisor, accept the simple answer 'Fulfilled'? Surely that's all any of us want to be - the fulfilled, complete version of ME. Alas, no, the acceptable answer can only be - doctor, lawyer, brain surgeon etc., for you would surely be viewed as a failure before you ever set out on your chosen career path, were you to be aware from the get go, that in reality, you were going to end up spending 8 mind and ass numbing hours per day typing...filing...dealing with people's petty problems...or chewing gum laconically while waiting to serve someone in a store selling the most tedious of items.


I knew what I wanted to be...oh yes! The problem was, I couldn't own up to it. I would be mocked, jeered! Important people in my life would be aghast! Without a doubt it would be viewed as a shameful waste of my extremely expensive, private, convent school education. The nuns themselves would have had to expend their energy, time and knee-skin on extra prayers, novenas etc in an attempt to persuade God to show this wayward child the error of her ways


For you see, I wanted to be a bingo caller. A proper British bingo caller ( North American readers possibly don't quite understand). I wanted to stand up there, proudly, on the stage, in the spotlight, with microphone in hand, with all eyes on me, while 200 people collectively held their breath ...just waiting for me to say...


Me and you, number 2


Cup of tea, number 3


Doctors orders, number 9 (Why? Because number 9 was a laxative pill given out by British  doctors during World War II)

Sweet 16 (To which the players all shout: 'and never been kissed!')


Two little ducks, 22 (players shout: 'quack, quack quack')

Clickety-click, 66

Was she worth it? 76 (Why? The pre-decimal price of a British marriage licence was 7/6d - 7 shillings and 6 pence)Players shout: 'Every penny!'


Two fat ladies, 88


....and other such timeless, eloquent gems.

I feel sure I would have been an amazing bingo caller, one of the all-time greats in fact, but, alas, my dreams fell into dust as life set my feet firmly on other paths - actually a lot of other paths. I have had many different jobs - some great, some not so great, some challenging and some of the previously mentioned mind and ass numbing variety.

How do we find fulfillment? How do we measure it? For some it will be by the accumulation of an enviably large bank balance. For others, it will be how famous, how well-known and instantly recognizable they are. But what about that unmistakably feeling that, yes...they have found their own route through life. The one that is right for them. Not necessarily something noble, world-changing or that would make a single person gasp and say 'Wow', but that path that from the first tentative step, makes their heart beat a little faster and fills them with passion, zest and excitement.


I am fortunate that after so many false starts,  I have finally found that path. It is called Peanut Pet Shelter and it fills me with an excitement and drive I have never experienced before.

You too will know when you have found your right route through life. If you haven't yet found it, please don't give up. Hope is what keeps us alive.


It's taken me a long, long, time to find the answer to that question: 'What do you want to be when you grow up?' It finally makes sense because it's not just do-ing, it's be-ing.


Having reached this great age (that's great as in big numbers!) I can now with surety say , I am where I want to be, doing what I want to do, doing what's right for me to do and being what I want to be. This then leaves me with just one more thought:


Does this mean I've finally grown up?

The Gift

Yesterday we met with the landlord at our soon-to-be new home so he could hand over the keys. While we were there a neighbor arrived with a welcome gift. What a sweet and thoughtful gesture! What was the gift? A cake....a bottle of wine....flowers....a box of chocolates perhaps? No.
A small black cat gave birth to 4 precious kittens in a raised plant bed right by the front door.

The Gift of Life.

What could be more perfect?

Why? When? WHAT WERE YOU THINKING??

To those of you hoping to read an entirely animal-based blog - I apologize profusely. I'll get there (I promise), but I'm new to all this and there are some things I just have to get off my chest first. So please be patient, I'm doing my best.


I have an enquiring mind. Annoyingly so, I've been told on many an occassion. Sometimes I ponder on the great mysteries of life - how did they build the pyramids in Egypt....is there life after death....and other thought and discussion provoking topics. However, like a persistant child just learning about how the world works, I really want to know Why? When? and more importantly, WHAT WERE YOU THINKING??


Have you seen those stage performers that eat strange things....like lightbulbs and razor blades....in the name of entertainment? I'm sure you have. Some of them are so talented they can even regurgitate them back up again. But why? And when? At what point in his life did that guy look at a lightbulb, razor blade or stainless steel fork and think 'My, that looks yummy!
For sure he didn't discover this 'gift' as a child or undoubtably his distraught parents would have dragged him forthwith to a well-meaning child psychologist.
Or was it perhaps hereditary? Was his father a secret midnight snacker? Did he wait until his poor, unsuspecting wife was sound asleep, before creeping oh, so quietly, into the kitchen to fix himself a tasty treat of silverware?


I need to know.


There are many other things I don't understand. For instance:


Enormous breast implants. There's nothing wrong with breast implants and if you want great big boobies - then you go girl! However if you look like you are permanently sporting your own buoyancy aids or like you have a pair of scud missiles strapped to your chest, then clearly either you or your surgeon got it wrong.


Balding guys with comb-overs. Bald guys with ponytails (Francis Rossi excepted). Let me say this, loud and clear: BALD IS SEXY. Wave goodbye to that last bit of fluff guys. Shave it off and the girls will love you for it. Trust me. I know.


Speedos on any guy that isn't training for an Olympic swimming event. They are just plain wrong, wrong, wrong. This comes under the heading of Dude, what are you thinking? and also 'Have you looked in the mirror?


Tofu. Now there's nothing wrong with tofu per se - just don't tell me I should eat it. No. I shouldn't. Really I shouldn't.


There is a popular stage show touring the western world called 'Puppetry of the Penis' a.k.a. 'Origami of the Penis'. Now we all know what Origami is (no, it's not a martial art) and we all know what the other thing is (a male body part of the appendage variety). Whoever thought of putting the two together? (Australians actually, which explains a lot) But why? Actually I kind of understand why - we all know those guys that can't keep their hands off their 'best friend'. The only comfortable way for them to watch tv is to sit with their hands down their pants. (I'm proud to say my husband doesn't do this). And girls, don't we just love those guys that feel the need to 'adjust' themselves mid-way through a conversation? So appealing!


What I want to know, what I really want to know is, at what stage in his life did the first guy turn to his friend and say 'Hey, does this look like the Loch Ness monster to you?' And did his friend, there and then, drop his kecks and say 'Ha! That's nothing! Lookee here....a windsurfer!'



Later, one of the guys left the show and they needed to find a replacement. Did they hold auditions? Did some poor guy suffer the humiliation of rejection because his Great Dane looked more like a Chihuahua? (Animal related topic, right?)


So, you can see there's things in life I just have to know. To you this is probably all just mindless trivia and I have no doubt that you are right. But PLEASE, if you get the urge to do something really strange - give me a call - I want....I need to be there the very first time, so I can finally get the answer to those immortal questions - Why? When? and What are you thinking?