A typical picinc day

Youngest and self decided we would catch a couple of trains and have a bit of a picnic lunch at Belair National Park.

It went something like this:

Text daughter (I was in bed in my room and she was in bed in her room), "I Feel like going to Belair on train, picnic, interested?". Ok, I admit my laziness is a bit transparent but daughter isn't exactly a morning person.

Set daughter up with a few little jobs (make the salad bread rolls etc). I was just going to mosey on down to my Sunday morning coffee joint and catch up with a coffee friend (a must Sunday happening). Assured Daughter I would be back in thirty min. Ninety min later (you just can't walk away from great fellowship). Ok, I admit I do tend to talk a lot!

Sitting at the station waiting for train that was, like clockwork, running late. N.B We only had a three min time frame once we arrived at the city to catch the connecting train to Belair. Anyhow, we were sitting and waiting when a group of loud, obnoxious, cocky young hoods came skate-boarding and bike- riding right up to us and asked me (ever so politely) if I had a dollar to cover their leader's train fare home. Apparently his dollar must have fallen out of his ever so well-fitting jeans while he was terrorizing the pedestrians with his 'jumps'. Ok, I admit I could have shown some charity. I could have but I was a little put off by his language and lack of general consideration to safety and welfare of others.

Off the nice young lads went, continuing to 'politely' beg for the money, from other would be train travelers. Clearly, the boys were not having much luck. Eventually, one frightened looking lady offered them fifty cents (that was all the change she had). I was feeling a little guilty so I got some change out of my purse. I was about to call the boys over when I heard them show their gratitude by blatantly laughing out racial comments to the lady who had given them some money (she was Asian). I was so tempted to 'deal' with these boys and certainly would have if they had not moved on to some fellow hoods (it was looking more like a gang by the minute). I kept my eye on them but was also mindful of antagonizing them into more aggressive behavior.

They eventually got enough money and then chanted out that we were all 'suckers!'. Youngest and I were hoping to board a different carriage than pleasant youth. They entered the first carriage and then walked (with bikes) through the entire train. I ignored them. Ok, I admit I may have given them the odd, 'don't mess with me!' stare.

As train was approaching station youngest and I decided to go to the doors and be ready to jump off efficiently if, by some miracle, the connecting train to Belair was still at station. Several of the young lads were also preparing to be the first off the train. As they waited they pushed their bikes backwards and forwards disregarding the feet of fellow passengers. They were holding centre court as they chatted up some very young girls. The young girls were 'impressed' and were 'flirting' back. The language going back and forward was colorful. What saddened me was one of the girls mother was standing close by and was smiling at the interaction between the youths. Ok, I admit my stares got increasingly more judgmental.

With an hour to wait before the next train to Belair (it had left on time) we decided to walk briskly into city centre and look for a windcheater for youngest. As we passed several clothes stores I wondered where we would find this windcheater. "How about in here?" I inquired in between my asthmatic-like wheezing (we were really pacing it up that hill). "No, I don't shop at that store!", replied my youngest in an 'as if' tone. The store we eventually walked into was a surfing shop. I could feel the generation gap syndrome rearing itself into action. I tried to keep the smile on my dial. I tried to not look like a geriatric misfit. I was doing reasonably alright until the lyrics of some song reached my psyche. Was I hearing right? Had somebody actually written, recorded and released a song with the word embryo in it? I looked around and noticed that a lot of young people were bopping along to the music without the slightest notion that they were being insulted with a song about a guy who was not going to hang out with this girl cause she had tricked him into carrying an embryo. Get me out of this store. 'Daughter, get out of that change room ASAP!". Ok, I admit to being firmly lodged in some sort of gap (thankfully daughter was not impressed with song choices either).

Sitting on train (we had secured the front seat which allowed you a nice view of the scenery leading up to Belair) I started to relax again. Just as the train was pulling out of station a man with a small boy in tow started pushing and jostling his way into our space. This dad literally plonked his son in front of us (practically on our laps) and then proceeded to park his kids bike and backpack alongside him (dad informed us that son would not take up too much space). "No worries!", was my response. One minute later dad had wriggled his way next to son (safety reasons apparently) and we all proceeded to enjoy the delights of the 'toot, toot' (every 'toot' was followed by an informative lesson on the sounds trains make).

After hearing the tale of the father and son's last visit to Belair - apparently the son had done a 'you know what!' in his nappy and while the nappy change was in session (on the platform) the train pulled out leaving father and son stranded at an isolated station for 1 hour - I was informed that son had apparently done another 'you know what!' and dad was fairly confident that it was highly likely they would find themselves stranded once more. What to do? I have to admit it almost sounded like dad was waiting for me to volunteer to change nappy(?). Before I got the look from daughter which said (without words), "why are you encouraging them ?" I had given dad directions to the lake as something to do if by some chance they did find themselves abandoned at the station. As the train was pulling into the station, and remembering the look daughter had given me I suggesting that perhaps (upon further consideration) that walking all the way to the lake might be a bit much for the little lad(talk about back pedaling!). I wished them well as daughter and self walked off at a brisk pace. Ok, I admit the cute factor was wearing off a little.

Youngest and I found a nice little spot at the lake and enjoyed our salad rolls. We were now reclining on a (smooth-ish) rock - having a bit of a read. The early afternoon sun was stroking our skin with a warm breeze. We were both relaxed. Suddenly, from the not too far distance, I heard a familiar voice. Correct! Father and son had made it all the way down to the lake in only forty minutes. Ok, I admit it was beginning to feel like a 'stalking' situation.

Father's Son had found some pebbles and were having a great time throwing them in the water. It was a lovely little picture. It was a lovely little picture until the boy discovered the ducks and started hurtling the stones towards them. "Don't throw the stones at the ducks", said the father(repeatedly). The stones landed pretty close to those damn ducks. I could feel my perfect parenting skills rearing their ugly interfering heads. Ok, I admit a major diversion was needed.

After father had a little pathetic whinge (I'm not being mean - he really was sounded like a tosser) about how long it took him to get to the lake, and, how he had no idea how he was going to persuade child to get back to the station; I lost all self control and went into interfering action. I suggested dad walk back about 70 metres and retrieve bike and meantime I would watch child.

As soon as he was gone I gave child a quick (mother lesson) on rock throwing and kindness to ducks and how exciting it was going to be to walk all the way around the lake back to the train that goes 'toot toot'. Phew!

Dad returns with bike, I fill him in with the little details about how to move son on, "Just pick little land marks up ahead and make it an adventure", I suggested. Before you know it they were back on the move. " You can do it!", I chanted. Ok,I admit (maybe) that was a little manipulative?

Daughter and I waited twenty minutes and then started walking back to station. Half way back along the track there was dad and cute kid having a rest. "You'll be right!", I pleaded. "Plenty of time, yet." said I. Ok, I admit I was beginning to think I might have to find a way to delay the trains departure.

Daughter and I were back at station with twenty minutes to spare. So, we had a little lay down on the bench and soaked up a little more sun. Fifteen minutes to go before 'd' time! Ten minutes to go! And then I heard it. I heard the familiar voice proudly whisper, "Go tell the lady we made it!" Ok, I admit we let them have the front window all to themselves on the way back. "Happy 'toot- toot' journey home guys."

I could tell you about the lady we met on the train going back to city - I reckon she would be in the running for the oldest backpacker around - but that might have to be another blog story. Ok, I admit I really do ramble on and on and on and on.......... Never a dull moment.

The 'good' students

I just want to offer a very quick post to make sure that I honor the 'good' kids. It was 8.40am and the phone rings. I pick up and give a cheery "hello" thinking that it is far too late for the relief teachers agency to be calling and so I could just relax.
"Such and such a school here, could you please come in as a teacher has had to be sent home with a stomach virus".
Please note that 1. I did not know this school (never been there). 2. I was in my P.J's and 3. My resources where in the garage. The class was a year 2/3. "Great!" I thought. The only resources I had handy were for upper primary.
"Sure', I said.
My mind was not cooperating with my fluttering stomach.

So, a very quick shower, a disorderly rummage through some boxes - grabbing this and that - and some deep breathes and off I went.

I've just realized I said it was going to be a very quick post. Whoops!

I Jump in the car and at the legal speed go looking for the school.

Couldn't find the school - it was tucked in some silly little dead end street with workmen blocking half of the view.

At 9.30am I arrive. Was escorted to the class and I was off and running.

No time for nerves. No time for Valium.

No need!!!

These were well mannered, beautifully cooperative young children who blessed me enormously. One girl even made me some Jasmin perfume from her perfume kit during play time. One girl made me a thank you note and one boy claimed I was the best relief teacher he had ever had (notice how he gave me a compliment without dishonoring his own teacher).

No chairs flying across the room. No swearing. No slamming of doors. No looking at the clock and praying for 3pm to arrive.

Don't get me wrong - they were not perfect. But they were good kids who restored (in part) my faith in the new generation and education.

I think I might remain a teacher after all.


And thank you Lord. To you be the honor and Glory.

Happy Birthday to me

Well friends May 20th came and in spite of my rumblings I turned 50.

I have been under a bit of pressure from my family to come up with a 'whammy' celebration. This is not what I wanted. I did not want to mark my age surrounded by people who had their own agenda (and trust me my family have hidden agendas). Some people have misinterpreted my reluctance to have a big celebration as a kind of fear of turning 50 or a denial of my age . I may have contributed at times to that notion. However, it has been a process for me to come to peace with the big day. What I was reluctant about was celebrating anything that was not true or genuine or 'timely'.

The past several months have not been easy times for me. I have found myself without work, without husband, without my students, without my productivity opportunities, without the role of 'parenting' as my children make those required transitions into independence, without financial security, without peace of mind. I know it may sound to some that I was filling my mind with all the 'without' moments and was suffocating in negativity. Some of you would be justified into believing that. I have not been in a great mental place. To be fair to myself I will say that I have worked hard at addressing my outlook. Truth is I was just a little cranky that turning 50 was presenting itself at a very in - opportune moment. I wanted to be bragging at 50. I wanted to be celebrating freedom of self doubt. I wanted to reflect with gratitude my journey. The reality was I was choking in depression.

I decided that I was going to own my 50th. I continued to say NO to all ideas of parties or expensive restaurants or big gifts and stood firm in saying that my day needed to reflect the relationships in my life that were positive and supportive and understanding and real.

I allowed myself two gifts. My first gift to myself was a new personal motto, "Fifty and forthright!". My second gift was to discover 50 new experiences in my fiftieth year using my five senses. I will be blogging these as they occur. I am going to continue to allow healing to occur. I am going to embrace new opportunities. I am determined to continue to shift my perception. My mid life will be under review. I am having a renovation bonanza. I will join the clan of 50+ who are celebrating the life at 50 and beyond.

I loved my day. From beginning to end it was 'real'.

So, let me share some beautiful moments of my 'real' 50th birthday.

• Gave myself permission to have a day off from relief teaching (sorry, not available to be abused today).
• I was woken by the sound of a voice chanting 'parcel post'. I blindly staggered to the front door and found a parcel that had been sent by my brother who lives in a different State.

• My eldest suggested I look up and there wrapped around my front verandah was all these red balloons and birthday flags. My neighbour had sneaked over late at night and hung them up (we have not known each other long and it was a complete beautiful surprise).

• Finding a birthday card in the letter box (hand delivered) from my neighbour.
• Lunch at cafe boulevard with a good friend - Cheesecake, cappuccinos, wedges (nothing healthy).
• Window shopping which turned into both of us giving each other permission to purchase ourselves a gift ( I got a water feature).
  
• Text messages from some women who I worked with two years ago (long time, no see).
  
• Text messages from some family members from Interstate.
• Cuddling up on the lounge and watching the DVD - 'As it is in Heaven' - (soul food).
  
• Balloon neighbour dropping in with a bottle of wine.
• Phone call from (ex) Mother in law wishing me a good day.
  
• Driving to the beach where my immediate family( ex husband, Son and two daughters) gathered and watched the dusk sun do it's thing.

• Observing my children put their competitive bickering's aside for awhile (best gift).
  
• Sharing some fish and chips on the beach (all rugged up).
• Receiving 50 compliments from my immediate family. It should be noted that I set this up but it was real genuine. I had to deduct a few compliments from my eldest when she started with 'wonderful', then said 'marvelous', '.....', '......'. It was when she was offering 'Prince of Peace' that I suggested she was cheating by quoting a song (appreciated the intent though). Lots of laughs.
• Joined by my two adopted daughters (friends of my own daughters) who made me laugh with their gymnastic abilities (had to be there - but it was hilarious).
• Having a complete stranger by the name of Stanley (he was also enjoying some chips and was being amused by my kids creative compliments) sing me Happy Birthday.
  
• Receiving a phone call from my mum who decided at fifty I was ready to hear my birth story (she was wrong!).
• Home to put on my flannelete P.J's and to play cards with girls ( I have to maintain my winning streak).

• Pigged out on chocolate, chips and a glass of wine (I don't usually drink alcohol).

• Mother of adopted daughters dropped in with a box of chocolates (11pm).
  
• Checked in on blog world and found this beautiful tribute from a great friend.
  

So, I am fifty and fantastic and friendly and fit
(now that's a little, no, huge, fib) and forthright.
(Forthright definition - Manifesting honesty and directness, especially in speech)

"Let the words from my mouth, and the meditation of my heart, be acceptable unto Thee,
O Lord."

Oops a daisy - keeping it real

Brenda is hosting the keeping it real meme. This month the theme is 'Stupid Mom moments".

Here's just two of my many 'Oops a daisy', mummy moments:

I need to set this up a little first so I will back up a couple of months. We were Salvation Army Officers and had just been given our first posting as newly weds. The posting was in the middle of no man's land. So here I was a new bride with a new posting in a far off land with no family support and had just discovered I had fallen pregnant on my honeymoon. I was violently sick the whole pregnancy. I hemorrhaged several times and ended up with an emergency C section (a whole different story). Ok, I just wanted you to understand that I had been under a little bit of stress. I was dismissed from hospital after three days and was back at church doing my thing on day 5. I thought I was coping really well. Everything looked fine on the outside. Baby dressed, fed etc. I was back at work with baby in pusher. I am a coper and I was coping very well.

Oops a daisy 1.
So, baby is one week old and we decide to drive to the next town to get some supplies. Everything was going like clock work. Boy I even amazed myself at how well I was coping!

We entered the supermarket and grabbed two shopping trolley's. I put the baby capsule in one and we used the second for the shopping. Perhaps it is essential that I point out at this stage that I am a bit of a control freak. Anyway, I was trying real hard to be in control of both trolley's. You know how it goes? You're doing your mum bit by pushing the trolley with baby, but you are also actually getting the supplies off the shelf and placing in the other trolley. Husband is a side accessory. His job was to push the food trolley.

Well, we came to the butter section and I, for the love of me, could not decide what butter to get. My mind was just not cooperating. I labored over this choice of butter as if my life depended on it.

Husband patiently waited for as long as he could. He must have decided that he would take this opportunity to go down the next aisle and grab his razor blades.

There was a lovely young shop assistant observing my butter dilemma. In the end I asked for her opinion and she recommended a particular brand.

Satisfied, I turned around and placed the butter in the shopping trolley and proceeded to merrily shop away.

Have you worked it out yet?

I got half way down the next aisle when I realized that I was pushing the wrong trolley. There was definitely no baby capsule in this one!

What was wrong with this scenario? Oh my ......... I have abandoned my new baby!!!!!

I raced back to the butter section - my heart pounding.

There she was none the wiser for my neglect. I thanked the shop assistant profusely for her care - giving duties and left the store. Husband eventually found me and went and rescued the food trolley.

Oops a daisy 2

Husband and I drove the long distance back to city to have a little visit with his parents. It was our first anniversary. First born was now 3 months old. Nanna had offered to look after our baby while we went for a meal together. We chose a hotel close by and after slapping on a little lippy we took off for some well deserved 'alone' time.

Husband pulls up into the car park and I jump out and head for the back door. I open the door and reach inside. Then I let out an almighty scream! Husband asks what is wrong. I tell him in a hysterical way that we have left our baby in the capsule on the pavement outside his Mum's place.

Husband kindly reminds me that Nana was caring for the baby and she was safe.

Now, whenever first born acts a little insecure, I have a bout of guilt and wonder if she is suffering the psychological impact of abandonments?

Other than those two moments I was a fully functioning mother. Oh there was that time when I came out of the supermarket with three children under three years of age in tow and couldn't remember where I had parked the car. But every mum does that, right?

..................... Spoil the child

I have just finished a two week relief teaching position at a very complex school. I noticed the school had rather an aggressive and bully - like culture amongst the students. Particularly alarming was the language that flowed freely from the mouths of many students (in all age groups). They expressed their fears, frustrations, aggressions, rebellion or work avoidance tactics through loud and offensive language. These students showed no discrimination. Principal, teachers, fellow students, parents were all likely to be subjected to the same response. I could see some teachers were doing their best to address this insult and would remind the offensive student that this was disrespectful etc etc. My observations were that we are fighting a losing battle in our schools.

One particular student had been verbally aggressive towards me on more than one occasion. His behavior was escalating into threatened physical aggression. I followed the school policy and had him removed to the office. The student returned with a lame apology (and an excuse) and was rewarded for his aggression with a 'fresh start'. Many students get lots and lots of
'fresh starts'.

What concerns me is that we are doing these rebellious and angry young people a disfavor by ignoring their outbursts and convincing them that they are entitled to express themselves in an ugly and disrespectful manner.

On one occasion the Principal suggested that the best way to deal with these rude students was to be deaf and blind to their behavior. Apparently if you do not respond to their swearing etc then they will eventually calm down.

Scripture advises that if we spare the rod we will spoil the child. Too many people think that the rod is corporal punishment. I believe the rod is an action of discipline. The best way to help angry youth is to allow them to receive the natural consequences of their behavior.

I believe in fresh starts. I model my teaching on this philosophy. However, to receive a fresh start means that reconciliation needs to have occurred. Students need to be responsible for their actions.

I was at the cinemas today and saw about six young kids being quite disrespectful. They had their feet on the chairs and were punctuating their sentences with the 'F' word. They were acting as if they were entitled to behave this way because they were youth. No one dares to speak to these young people for fear of being bombarded with a mouthful of abuse.

I think we are making too many excuses for rude youth. I think we are not acknowledging enough the young people who are practicing self control and discipline. I think we are letting these young people down when we excuse their disrespectful behavior because they possibly come from a troubled home life. I believe young people who are being abused at home in any way deserve our support. However, ignoring their aggression is not supporting them.

Maybe I am feeling sensitive on this issue at the moment because I have just witnessed the impact that rude and disrespectful students/ young people can have on a community.

I need to clarify here that I am not inferring that all young people are rude. Far from it. I Know lots of young people who are respectful. I will suggest though that for the most part these young people are respectful because they have parents and caregivers who encourage them to be disciplined.

I just needed to get that off my chest.

It's raining

I'm feeling a bit down this evening. Actually, I'm probably feeling a lot down. The weather isn't helping. Usually I love it when it rains. I love the idea of snuggling up under a Doona and watching a good movie or reading a good book or chatting with a friend. Not tonight though. Tonight the rain is adding to my sense of down- ness (is that an actual word?).

I'm in need of a whinge or whine or moan or groan or cry or something!

My feelings of depression are compounded by guilt. I am aware that there are so many people suffering terribly right now. My pain, my misery, my moodiness, my depression don't even come onto their radar. And yet?

I know that I believe in a God who promises to help carry these heavy loads. I know that I could be practicing gratitude right now instead of feeling so low. And yet?

Should I weep and bury myself in my negative thoughts? Should I curl up and sleep and hope that tomorrow brings with it a more positive mindset? Should I get on my knees and beg God to wave a magic wand and transform me into a something that I know I can be, should be, have been? Should I breathe in God's peace?

Should I? Can I? Will I?

Depression beckons one's spirit. Come! Come!

I stand on the edge of a decision.

I will not be a slave to my emotions. I will not be a slave to other's judgment. I will not be a slave to a SYSTEM that does not reward the faithful, hardworking and committed employees.

"Lord, I am feeling a little depressed tonight."

DRAW NEAR TO ME.

The rain is belting itself against the window.

.....now don't you fret now child don't you worry. Don't try to hurry the storm along - the hard times make you strong.

The Lord hears my cry and comforts me.


Tomorrow will be a better day.

______________________________

It is tomorrow and it is still raining but I am feeling much better in myself. I honestly don't know what it is going to take for me to get back to my normal strong, survival, bring it on, resilient, bounce back self. Maybe God needs me to be at a place where I get honest about my life. The good, the bad and the ugly. Who knows? I would normally delete this post by now as I am afraid of being misunderstood or judged. However, I am going to leave this post up. Call it therapy.

3 days to the big 50. I have worked out what I am giving myself as a gift. I will post my present to myself on Monday (the eve of the day that will mark the beginning of a fabulous, fantastic, forthright, friendly, forgiving fiftieth year).

Mothers day review

Sunday came,

Sunday went
It's hard to explain
all that it meant.

I'll give it a go
it's only right
So many blessings
a few tiny frights.

I woke up early
(as all mums do)
Cooked my own breakfast
that's nothing new.

Got in the car
to pick up the son.
Ran out of petrol
son went for a run.

Grabbed all the kiddies
went off to church.
They gave out some chocolate
son, got off his perch.

loaded with goodies
off for a drive.
Where are we going?
A picnic surprise!

Out came the camera
smile.... look at that!
Don't take my photo!
You tricked me, you brat.

Nice salad sandwich
I've taught you well.
Followed by a Pepsi
this picnic is swell.

Let's go for a walk
I hear you say.
Not up that mountain?
can't do it, no way!

Blessings upon blessings
I had this Mothers day.
My heart is still smiling
Hip hip hooray!!!!!

It really was a great day and exactly what the doctor ordered.

What a week!

Week one of a two week relief teaching adventure is over and I have survived. I was told that the class was very difficult and had some huge problems. I was told that they did not cope with change very well. I was told that they had 'potty' mouths. I was told that they found learning difficult. I was told that they were all in this class as their regular teacher was the only one who could control them. I was told that there were many angry students, non compliant students and some violent students.

Do you accept your mission?

Lets see. I was called every name under the sun. I was subjected to some pretty threatening body language. I was ignored. I was answered back. I was given the run around by some pretty fast escapees. I was given the 'salute' (several times). I was laughed at. I had a door slammed in my face. Oh yes, I nearly forgot, apparently I am the UGLIEST thing ever born! I was also told I was the meanest teacher on the planet and that I was a liar.

I also received a rose on day two from a boy who had nearly made me cry the day before (no rhyme, no reason). I had three girls come up to me and have a friendly 'girl' chat at lunch play. I had the whole class sitting on the floor quietly while I read a chapter of a book (twice). I should be honest and admit to speed reading!!!!! And on Friday four students (who had added several more clumps of grey hair to my head) came and said 'have a nice weekend'.

All in all I would say that it was a fairly successful week considering the class culture. I will not pretend that it didn't chip away at my psyche. I will not pretend that I wasn't pretty miserable at times. I wont pretend that I didn't pray like I've not prayed in a long time. It was tough. I worked hard. I cried into my pillow one night. I prayed for peace of heart and courage. I prayed that God would reveal His plan for me.

I am praying that God will show me what I need to see and hear and do as far as my future in teaching goes. I pray that He will take some of the pain and disappointments and uncertainties away.
_________________________

Saturday is nearly at a close. I feel (somewhat) refreshed (recovered?). My eldest daughter's netball team won (she's an awesome player). My two daughters and I have just had one of those silly girl moments (laughing, joking, singing and secret sharing). I am just about to put on my brand new flannel PJ's and cuddle up on the lounge to watch a 'girls' movie.

Random rantings

So, I was lying on the freestanding hammock pondering on a bit of this and a bit of that. The sun was shining. The dishes were done. I was in the mood to be entertained but family, friends or even strangers were either too busy or not wanting to play. So, I set myself a little challenge. On the bush (seen behind that rather elegant heel) is a little make- do clothes line (a bit like when you go camping). My challenge was to remove the peg from the line using my toes only. Mission accomplished! I expect to hear a cyber round of applause. If you think it is easy- peasy, well give it a go!

(Please excuse that ugly little pinky toe - it's inherited from my mother's side of the family).



So, my two daughters and I sat down and had a little heart to heart concerning their contribution ( as of late) to home chores (almost non existent). I gave a beautiful little speech. They appeared to listen intently. We all agreed (me freely , them under some duress) that they would pull their socks up and do their share. Now, I am fairly confident that communication is a well developed skill of mine. Clearly I have been under some misguided notion that when mum (that's me) uses the, 'I mean it' voice, it actually will inspire conformity. WRONG!

Truly, it's bad enough daughter is being rebellious. But does she have to lead the cat astray?



Well that's it for now folks!

My deepest desire

Burning , burning, brightly burning
Brightly burning fire divine
Satisfy my spirit's yearning
Fill this empty soul of mine.

Burning , burning, always burning Holy Spirit , stay with me;
To your will my will is turning What you will I want to be.

Burning, burning, deeply burning
Deeply burning holy fire
Now, your perfect plan discerning
Your design is my desire.

Burning, burning, gently burning
Gently burning Fire within
From your love my love is learning
Now I feel your work begin.

John Gowens

I'm going to turn 50 in spite of my denial.

Came across these quotes -

"Remember age is just a number, which keeps getting larger". Is that meant to cheer me up? I have just put back on 10 kg due to this whole 50 thing.

"Age is an issue of matter over mind. If you don't mind, it doesn't matter!" Well clearly I do mind!

"Well - behaved women barely make history - so why don't you be happy, be a little mad, be free, be outrageous, wild and silly?" Been there, done that! The cost is wrinkles, overweight, bunged up knee, guilt and borderline insanity.

"You used to look in the mirror in the mornings and find fault with yourself. Now you have the wisdom to have joy in the living of life." Who writes these things? What joy? What wisdom? I still have a mirror, I can still see!

"The consolation of growing older is that as you lose your mind, you don' miss it as much." Purely inspirational that one!


So, there are 18 more days before the BIG '50' day arrives.

Do I really care about the age of 50? Not really (ok, so that's not exactly true). Although, I am aware that time flies much quicker as you get older, and, as I feel I am not in the right place yet and I have not really discovered who I really am yet, or, what I really should do with my life, or, what my health is going to permit me to do, or, how I am going to be able to discover what I want to be when I grow up - phew - I realize that as much as a turning 50 is not meant to be such a big deal (these days) , it has become one!

Has anyone got a spare 'Time Machine?

________________________________________

A slightly different way of looking at it would be perspective. Do you see an old woman or a young woman in this image?