Fran Macilvey's Blog, page 52

The Gleaner

When we have days – and we all have them – in which the grey seems to sit on our shoulders in a cold, dreich puddle, what do we do about them?

We could dream about our Antipodean friends, who, bemoaning the heat, sip home-made lemonade and languish in the shade. (Send me some of that sun, guys!)

We could wait for spring to come and cheer us up.

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We can listen out for��the blackbirds whistling, bravely defying the frost, sunning their plumage in the rare, low light that pierces the hedgerows.

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That sets up the thought that really, birds are astonishing. They��perch patiently��outside through the winter, braving sub zero temperatures, and at the first sign of brightness or calm, they sing.

 

Even in a snowstorm, I have heard a robin singing.

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And we can be gloomy for about five minutes, before finally deciding that there is no mileage left in that, and we might as well get up, have something to eat, and sing along to the radio. We might as well do something different, something that feels good, anything that feels better.

So that is what I do. I eat breakfast, I pray and say thank you, and I bless the blue sky and the birds, and the cold water that gushes from the��tap and wakes me up with a jolt. I bless my life and all its circumstances: the grey, for giving me some reason to decide differently; and the bright, for helping me to move towards better. In all of these circumstances, there are lessons to glean. And that is what I do.

Average Soup

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“Mmm…onion soup (5344349906)” by jeffreyw

���Average?!���

Lovingly thrown together by your mother, in between eating lunch, sorting out laundry and calculating how much is due for this week���s school dinner money���?

Is that what you think of my home-made lentil and leek and broccoli and celery soup? Careful��nutrition devised for your warmth and comfort in this season of chills?���All quickly cut to a blend at the sharp end of my knife, then mixed with a dash of hope and finished with a spoonful of top-of-the range bouillon?

���It���s average,��� she opines, with a mischievous twinkle. I think she likes to get me up on my high horse, so I shall humour her, and wax lyrical about the ingratitude of youth, the pains that parents take.

Because I enjoy life, these days my indignation is deliberately comical, and the warnings I might issue to Seline about childish insouciance ��� One day, you will discover what this is like, just you wait ��� are laced with humour and not taken seriously. Thank God, we dance.

We have discovered an abundance that is available to the careful shopper at Lidl ��� ooops! Other discount stores are available ��� whereat you can find a pack of four enormous leeks for the price of one; onions the size of my fist, and pears so big that one would feed a family for a week. In fact, the largesse that I notice has emboldened me to experiment more with what I cook, and last week��I made a pear and custard flan. Okay, if I���m honest, the wholemeal flour base was heavy and inedible, but it didn’t collapse;��the custard was beautifully set, and the pear slices were soft and warm. Not bad, for a bit of impromptu decision-making. We ate up the custard and pear slices easily, and then threw out the base with a touch of regret. Wholemeal flour is so good for one, it is a pity it is difficult to work with.

Life is good, and far from average, these days.

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“Homemade Flan” by Cary Bass – Own work.

 

February Beckons

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“Narciso (Narcissus pseudonarcissus), Jard��n Bot��nico, M��nich, Alemania 2012-04-21, DD 01″ by Poco a poco – Own work.

I love February ��� short, sweet, and��at its centre, filled with soft love. This month, the troubles of December and January are receding, and we become more playfully aware that Spring is��merely dallying around the corner, waiting for us to catch it up, while it hides snowdrops and daffy down dillies in its billowing skirts. This year, I shall be going out to find the colour in the flowers, not languishing indoors. This year, I shall go for walks in the gardens.

I hope to keep this year playful. I hope to keep this year happy. I reflect, wistfully, that for so many years I have lived life as if there was some great, golden globe of an achievement to be located at the end of a dark tunnel somewhere. Somehow, after all the usual ���stuff��� was got through, there would be peace, relaxation and joy. I chased after these hopes, never realising the truth. ��

How about now? I can be happy now, and that is what I aim to be; which is both simple, and challenging. To call ���time��� on all the usual, lazy assumptions of yore, and give them a good airing, shake them away. To infuse every Now with the joyful spring of current expectation, instead of waiting around for some fairy godmother to rescue me. That is what I hope to do, from now on.

Recently, Seline was at a sleep-over so hubby and I took ourselves out for the evening. I decided we would go to our favourite restaurant, and then to see, ���The Theory of Everything���, which a friend had recommended. It was indeed worth going to, with its hints of impending disaster never fully realised ���. We both learned something new: for me, about the crucial��importance of honest motivation, in marriage.

My heart is full, as I realise that life is indeed beautiful and can be great fun, and that, on the arm of a man who loves me so sweetly and whom I love, I am cherished and can be happier than I ever dreamed possible.

 

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“Touch of spring (2426712303)” by Kenny Louie from Vancouver, Canada

 

In Good Heart

Looking back over everything, I am heartened.

I have spent five years mostly sitting here, reading, writing, editing, chatting, commenting, and being around the internet communities where I continue to meet amazing people and make friends.

In my more��retiring moments, I��sometimes wish that I had done other things, like walking into the hills, where the breeze would rouse me and��the views from the Pentland Hills down to the coast would invite me to remember the long view.�� Or watching the spring flowers unfolding in March.�� Often, I have missed entire seasons, so wrapped up have I been, in the cocoon of communications that is part of my work.

Aware that time is fleeting, I��sometimes wish��I could have��spent more time playing with Seline, teaching her the card games of my youth – must see if I can remember how to play double patience –��great fun – and generally laughing so hard, I feel my��spirit floating out of my body.

Then, I��consider my accounts: my Facebook pages, my twitter��and Amazon accounts, this blog and Goodreads account. I remember their genesis in the world of Authonomy, and I think….wow, I set that all up.�� Little phobic me, the girl who first turned on a computer monitor when she was thirty, set this all up and, with the help of��so many��friends and supporters, has��kept it going, one way or another. ��Through everything, this small network��has linked me to��sources of information and advice, consolation and inspiration in so many ways that I can hardly articulate.

But there we are. Life creeps up on one, sometimes. And our achievements are not always obvious until later, when we take a moment to look back.

Thanks to everyone who has been part of my on-line life, all this time. I value you, and your presence, more than I can say. I count it a great privilege to know you.

 

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“Drops On Rose (260892746)” by Audrey from Central Pennsylvania, USA

A Completely New Life, Today

I can’t get over how wonderful this book is. I’ve read books 1 and 2, (Book 1 is almost permanently on my desk) and book 3 revises all that material. I read it before, as one does…but this time! I feel as if I am reading and understanding it at a whole new level. One that gives me back my life, my choices, my future and my happiness.

Maybe people ask questions like, ‘Yes, but is it real? Did God really give Neale these books?’ and ‘But why him? Why not me?’ and then it seems to me that the source and origin becomes more important than the content. If what I am reading makes me want to smile and laugh even in the midst of general despondency, is it not a good thing? If it gives answers to questions that have lingered like an unreachable itch for decades, surely that helps everyone? My family become less anxious on my behalf, and my friends can be themselves…..at last.

I would be very interested to know what other readers think, and what they have learned from this series. I never cease to learn something new, invigorating and delightful, on every page. In the midst of snow, ice and general end-of-January sluggishness, I invite you to give them a look-see.

Have a wonderful day.

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“Moravskoslezsk�� Beskydy – zima 2014 (by Pudelek) 03″ by Pudelek (Marcin Szala) – Own work.

The narrow path of a samurai

Fran Macilvey:

Brought to this amazing blog by Suchled – https://imdouglass43.wordpress.com/

A true story of survival

Originally posted on Restart urgently needed:

You have to be a samurai, kid. You have to be fearless, but humble. You have to be strong when you feel fragile. You have to close your eyes and think you���re in a Bruce Lee-movie. When you open them again, bite your lips and fight.

I tried. But each time I looked down the branch fear was spreading through my knees. It was just too high. The branch was shaking when I wanted to make a step forward. My father held his hand up high, to hold mine as I learned how to walk along the branches without the feeling of panic. Two steps forward, pause, two steps back to the place where the tree was thicker, three steps forward��� It took me days of training. I was the karate-kid. The sound of guns and grenades echoed through the forest when I was jumping around on top of a���

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Bizarre Optimism?

The last two months have been among my oddest. Which is to say, filled with the most bizarre difficulties, all coming at once and threatening to unseat my optimism.

First, on 3rd December, just as soon as I had decided, ���I am going to be preoccupied with wonderful things, from now on!��� ��I slipped off the step at the pool and sprained my left foot, which is fragile and thin at the best of times. ��The pain that quickly followed, ensured that my preoccupations became immediately unpleasant once more, challenging me for daring to release the habit of a life-time.

Then, after a month of hobbling around, unable to shop or stand for any length of time, my recovery was almost complete, and my exercise was getting back to normal levels, when our central heating boiler collapsed. ��So we have been without heating or hot water since about the 28th of December. ��Thank God we have a dish-washer, which I now use for everything except our bone-handled knives and wooden utensils, which die in a machine wash.�� I had been going swimming to get warmed up, most days, and take the clothes to the launderette, when my car broke down.�� It is now fixed and I am about to walk up to the garage, but it is snowing, and I would rather write this.����And I got a massive cold.

Now, what is an optimist to conclude from all this? ��Yes, I know, you might decide that my optimism is crazy and totally na��ve.�� I mean, look at all this stuff!�� But you know, today, I see it as my life accelerating through all the rubbish that is still lying around, just to get it out of the way as quickly as it can, so that the ground around my feet is cleared for the new��events coming in 2015.�� Remember my optimism of the New Year? Well, I���m going to hang on to it, and I���ll let you know how it goes. Meanwhile, bless you all.

 

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A Wonderful Life

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I am continuing to read and marvel at ‘Conversations with God’ book 3.�� In��my current climate, (rather stranded at home with a cold etc) this particular book proves currently indispensable to help me smile and laugh with relief, remembering and anchoring the good that is actually everywhere, just waiting to be noticed.�� By singing, relaxing, and generally acting as though life is truly marvellous – and it is, you know! – life magically improves.�� The sun continues to shine above the clouds and everything I experience becomes the chance to decide – how do I feel about this (in other words, how do I want to feel about this?)

I spent a strange night wrapped up in shawls, dressing gown, scarf, gloves, feeling cold.�� But slept surprisingly well, and feeling refreshed, am today making the most of time at home to listen to music, take it easy, read, blog and generally catch up on writing.�� Many of these calming activities have been neglected, as I have got caught up in the belief that there are not enough��hours in the day, that time is fleeting, and that for some reason I cannot fathom, I am expected to be in three places at once.

If I want to do three things at once, I could set that up���. But the idea makes me tired before I���ve even started.�� Tiredness is a sign that we should stop, move in another direction, do something differently. Yes, it all sounds very first grade, and it probably is basic common sense, but how many of us actually admit we don���t want to do something, and that our reluctance is a sign from the Universe that we have permission to do something else?�� Something we enjoy?

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“Maldives sunset silhouettes” by Creative Independence

It sounds so child-like, doesn���t it?�� Children are wise.�� They will not be ‘polite’, or say what they don���t believe.�� They will just say what they want to. ���Mum, you don���t have to do that now.�� Can I have a hug?���

Sometimes, my daughter���s wisdom makes me so grateful to be alive.

 

Could someone please explain?

It���s a funny world. Since Friday, nothing has changed: my boiler is still defunct, my car is still off the road and my ��� hang on! ��� my driving licence is missing! Oh, at the turn of the year, I must have taken it out of my old purse and put it somewhere so safe, that now I cannot find it. I have turned the place over, increasingly worried about my ability to keep track of small details like, ���where the hell is it���?��� Perhaps my nerves are a bit frayed by my constant pre-occupation with staying warm.

I was relieved to find that I could apply for a replacement over the phone, but then, while doing so, I was transferred to a ���medical adviser��� who repeatedly confirmed that yes, I did have to apply by post.�� To my remonstrations she was sympathetic and firm. Yes, I would have to apply, there was nothing wrong with my licence details and nothing was changed, but even so, because there was a ���medical notification��� or some such from 1997, I would have to make a written application. They would send the form out to me.

Then I phoned the insurers, who confirmed that the cost of a replacement boiler is not covered by our household or buildings insurance. The hefty premiums we have been forking out for fifteen years and never claimed on, are for what, exactly?

And I phoned Motability, who asked, was I able to make use of��the complementary vehicle on offer? Well, no, since I have to drive an adapted car ��� as you would expect for such a scheme. While they put out an APB for a suitable temporary replacement, they are happy to reimburse taxi fares to medical appointments and swimming classes; if something of that sort was required, then I should keep the receipts and they would be reimbursed.

What am I to conclude from this? That the system of rules and regulations that disabled people navigate, requires them to assume that they have no disability (���we are so much more inclusive these days��� ��� ���disability is so last century��� –�����you aren���t really disabled��� ) while at the same time introducing pointless, time consuming and rather spurious distinctions which��appear to be��a polite way of saying, ���Since�� your differences��put you in a separate category from the��rest of us, we reserve the right to treat you differently.��You��can object��if you like, but it will make no difference��because our insurers insist upon these distinctions, which we don���t really understand, but there you are������

In extreme cases the State reserves the right to enquire about bodily functions and basic personal needs, quite oblivious of the desire for personal dignity, the rights of self-definition or social integration. They make the rules, and apply them, so that’s all right then.

Despite my desire to feel benign and un-bothered by the maze of complications and brick walls, and despite knowing that everyone faces complications, I become increasingly radicalised, which is another way of saying, disillusioned, tired and fatalistic. Is this helpful to anyone? Not sure yet.��We would prefer to be treated like other people, is all.

Have a wonderful day, and thanks for reading.

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GSOH Essential

GSOH Essential

Yesterday���s post, which I penned in angst, has brought me numerous smiles. Thanks to everyone who has commented, ���Oh, me too, darling���, and made me realise that being directionally challenged is just a small inconvenience.

I feel liberated and galvanised by my confession. I���m also rather impatient with the thought loop, ���I���ll ask Eddie when he comes home���. Why should I rely on him like that? In any case, he will know what he is talking about, and rattle on about Chesser and Longstone, and places that I know only vaguely, which will probably only serve to increase my confusion.

I have a car, and town driving is usually taken at a sedate speed, so why not take time to go places and experiment? There���s no age barrier on learning new skills. This morning, having collected the laundry from the launderette – we still have no heating or hot water ��� and having been for a swim, I turned the car right instead of left, and ventured forth. I reasoned that I could stop and park along the way, and so it proved. I made it up to St George���s and back, even finding a shortcut to a quick way home. Hurray! Have map, will drive. Just to be sure, there will be plenty of time to do a re-run at some point.

Then I popped into our local Lidl for a very quick shop – other discount supermarkets are available – and turned for home with a grateful sigh. Only���.the car was over-revving, most unusually. I checked my foot was not on the accelerator; I checked the gear stick had not shifted sideways into first gear; then tried again. There appeared a spanner on the dashboard, and a flashing D2 sign���.more over-revving, and a sluggish car. We wended our way up to our friendly SEAT garage ��� other car dealerships are available ��� at a modest 20 mph with traffic in a lengthening queue behind us. Thankfully, the roads were quiet. The garage was not far, and near home. Thankfully this happened when nothing else was planned and we were not on the way to some important rendezvous. Lots to be thankful for, in these circumstances.

The kind lady behind the desk has booked the car in for a full service (���we have to strip down the engine, you see, which takes a while���) at the end of next week. I handed over the keys with a sense of doom and foreboding, before reckoning that as today is Friday, that means only a few days, not the fortnight that it felt like.

So! No heating, no hot water (I haven���t found any immersion switch) and no car. Which means, not a lot of swimming, fewer visits to the launderette, little socialising���..and ��� hang on! This could be good news! Lots and lots of work to get on with!! Hidden here behind closed curtains (to keep the warmth in while the wind blows and the rain lashes) I can���t help giggling at the absurdity of Life. I know that there are bound to be great reasons for this latest happening ��� I can think of one which I can���t share, even with you ��� but sometimes, I do wonder at Life���s peculiar sense of humour.

I���ll keep you posted. Thanks so much for reading and for your comments.

 

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