Thursday, October 14, 2004

Autumn

Autumn Leaves ~ by Millais

This picture sums up Autumn for me. The turning of the leaves, the beautiful colours. It reminds me of sweeping up the Autumn leaves when I was young, of walks in the woods ankle deep in the fallings from the trees and of how they crackled and snapped under foot. It reminds me of gathering Conkers and watching Squirrels hide nuts.

It reminds me of misty mornings and a warm bed. It signals the drawing in of the nights and the approach of winter. It reminds me of hot drinks and sitting around the fire exchanging stories.

It takes me back to raking up the fallen leaves when I was young and putting them into a neat pile under cover to save for burning on Bonfire Night along with other garden waste, pieces of old wood , in fact anything that would make a good fire.  Bonfires were common in those days and not just on Guy Fawkes night.  It was how everyone dispensed with lots of rubbish.  I used to love standing by a big bonfire, watching the leaping flames, listening to the crackling and  spitting and sometimes almost being stifled by smoke.  There are no bonfires like that anymore.  Anti-pollution laws have made them almost a thing of the past and they could be annoying when a particular neighbour always used to light one during the day making all the lines of washing reek of smoke or driving you from your garden.  There is no doubt that with nearly every household having bonfires they added greatly to the terrible fogs and smogs we used to get before the Clean Air Act. You had to experience on of those to understand. I remember the last very bad one.  It is estimated that it killed between three or four thousand people. You literally could not see your hand in front of your face. The fog even got into the houses through cracks and tiny crevices. The net curtains would turn a dirty yellow/brown seemingly overnight, people had to wear face masks and the country almost came to a standstill for days on end. It seemed it would never stop, we would never see daylight again.

Today, barbecues have taken the place of bonfires. I wonder if it is because something primal in people needs to see and experience fire.

Yet, there was something magical about bonfires.  Seeing the faces of you family illuminated by the light of the fire and how they smiled to watch the small inferno. My Father turning the burning pile to keep it going and me staying outside until almost the last flicker then returning indoors to be warmed by a hot cup of tea or cocoa or something delicious to eat.

The leaves have turned colour here late this year and are still hanging on but the rain is now bringing them down like showers of confetti and the first frost will see the end of them.

Autumn, the time when Summer sheds it memories and goes to bed to gather energy for re-awakening in the Spring.

Wednesday, October 13, 2004

Lighting The Candle Of Hope

This candle of hope was lit by Angel for all of us.  There is a lovely prayer that accompanies this candle. It can be found at " A Lil' Country Charm" (link on the left).  She has kindly offered that everyone can take a candle to display on their journal for hope and healing for all those in J-Land.  Let us keep this candle burning.  Please go and read the prayer and take a candle of your choice and keep the flame burning for all of us, whatever our troubles might be.

And now, another of my poems.  It seems just right for today.

FRIENDSHIP

Friendship is the voice on the phone
When you are sad and all alone.
Friendship is the clasp of an outstretched hand,

It is the smiling face, the warm embrace.
Secrets whispered, not to be revealed
A lasting union that is forever sealed.
Faults accepted, arguments withstood
Harsh words sometimes, taking bad with good.
Ebbing and flowing like the tide
But ever there
To share each joy, each hope, each care -
Friendship, like a murmured prayer,
Binding us together, you and I
Until we die.

                                             Copyright

 

I had so many lovely comments on "our boys" yesterday. Thank you all. So, here is how they look now -

Tuesday, October 12, 2004

Pip And The Pup

We have always had two dogs.  We acquired our Pip when Bonnie and Brandy were very old, so, at one time we had three. We lost Brandy and Bonnie was very lonely and went into a quick decline.  So, we bought a puppy, a Border Collie we called Pip because we had "great expectations " of him.  He did not let us down.  Bonnie immediately treated him as her own and he gave her a new lease of life.  Her tired old legs actually wanted to run again.  They chased each other over the fields for ages.  It was wonderful to see and even the vet was amazed at her "second life" which lasted another three years.  Inevitably the end came and there was just Pip.  Of course, we spoiled him terribly to make up for his loss as well as ours.

He would still love to chase around the fields but often he would stop and look around as if searching for his old friend. We looked for another Collie to keep him company but nobody seemed to have them.  Naturally, we spoiled him even more.

So, Pip got to the age of five before we one day heard of some Pups that were available.  We had found out very late and by the time we rang, there was only one left, a tri-colour male.  Hubby went to see him. I gave him strict instructions not to bring the pup home if it was not what we were looking for. I was worried about having two male dogs anyway as I had heard they would fight and not get on and Pip had been on his own for a long time. We had also hoped to get another long-coated dog.

I was doing the washing up when he arrived home carrying a cardboard box.  I could not believe my eyes when I opened the box.  This bedraggled little scrap, soaking from where it had wet itself with fright.  He was short-coated, tiny and looked like a rat. My immediate reaction was that he was not for us!!!!  However, pity overcame me so I took him out and washed him and wrapped him in a fluffy towel.  He licked my hand. I was almost won over.  Then I held him up to have a good look at him.  His golden eyes looked steadily into mine and then his pink tongue gave my face an enormous lick.  That sealed it.  I could not let him go.  So, Jester (Jess or Jesse) came into our lives.  But, would it work?

Pip had only really known Bonnie, our cross-colliebitch whilst he was growing up.  We placed them in the same room.  Pip wandered over and gave a quick sniff and then walked off. Well, at least there was not trouble.

The following day we allowed them into the garden together. Pip wandering around his usual haunts with the pup on his heels all the time.  We decided to leave them to it for a few minutes. A while later, having looked out of the window, I shouted to Mike to grab the camera. He raced out and took the following picture which has always been one of my favourite photos.  As you can see, we need not have worried. They had bonded.  They are the greatest of friends and play for hours with each other. Pip will be 9 in December and Jess is 4.  They are both very special to us.  They are "our boys."  I think you will find this picture as charming as I do.

P.S. Thinking of my friend Sandra, she of Sandra's Scribbles who has just lost her beloved Labrador, Hannah, and has posted a moving entry to Hannah on her journal. If you would like to leave a message, you will find her link on the left.

Monday, October 11, 2004

More Local Pics

This is where our daughter lives.  It is about six miles from us.

The first two are different views of some cottages which are just next to the river. Built in 1758.

Below is one of the two pubs.  Originally just called "The Smugglers", it has been renamed as you can see. It fronts directly onto the river so the views are lovely. This area was rife for smuggling because of the river and its many creeks.

Now for two shots of the river -

In Elizabethan times there used to be a wooden bridge across the river.  This was much later replaced with a ferry but both are long gone now.

And finally

Because I like Swans!

Sunday, October 10, 2004

Results Of Poll So Far

Firstly, thanks to everyone for the comments they have posted. They make very interesting reading and I do appreciate the views.

On the whole, it would, seem, you are in favour of message boards, at least the ones to do with interests or hobbies. It is heartwarming to know that some of you have made friends that way.

I guess, in the end, it comes down to personal choice as do most things in life.

However, I wish there was some way of vetting offensive material before it is posted.  The hosts do a wonderful job but they are only human.  They cannot deal with everything instantly - there are too many postings for that.  The fact that I was able to read such material proves that some slip through the net. Yes, they do get deleted afterwards but, by then, many people have been offended or deeply hurt, many have read anti-racial remarks and incitement to violence. There are thousands of youngsters using the internet, some of them very young.  This is not the sort of thing they should be exposed to. Yes, there are parental controls but not every parent bothers about them. This is the real world, all parents are not perfect.

Many of you remarked that you were sorry I was upset.  Believe me, friends, I was not upset.  I am big enough and old enough to know what life is all about.  I have not attained the age I have without learning about people.  No, I was angry, angry that people could write this sort of filth especially under those circumstances. I was angry for the Muslims who were posting messages of condolence having to see things like that, read about what people were saying should be done to all Muslims. I was angry for all the decent posters who would have seen this garbage as well.  That is why I asked for your views.

Thanks to all who have commented.

 

 

Saturday, October 9, 2004

Message Boards Poll

A different type of entry from me today.  I just wanted to ask you all, what are your views on message boards. Are they a good thing or a bad thing?

I rarely visit message boards myself, only now and again in odd moments but I was reading the news about the death of Ken Bigley yesterday evening and message boards caught my eye so I went and paid a visit.

To be honest I was completely appalled. Some of the vile things that were being said about Mr. Bigley sickened me to my stomach.  I, in fact, reported several to AOL myself.  There was also a good deal of incitement to racial hatred on them.  I picked through to see if I could find one or two informed comments and thankfully I did along with genuine condolences messages. There were also comments from people who had watched the "beheading" videos and one went into such graphic detail, I stopped reading it.  It beggars belief, to me, why anyone would want to witness the death of another human being..........then to sit and relate gory details to others.

I thank God that we live in a democracy and we have the right of free speech.  However, there must be limits. The hosts do a great job on the whole in cleaning up the boards and we all have the right to report things which are offensive. Thankfully, most of the truly offensive postings are now unobtainable. However, there has been trouble even on the Journal boards quite recently.

So, now I am wondering. Are message boards good or bad? Frankly, I do not think they would be a great loss but then maybe my judgement is being coloured by what I read last night.

How can there ever be peace in the world when people cannot even treat each other with respect and decency on message boards.

I would appreciate your views. For or against - please post your comment.

My thoughts today are with the Bigley family, especially Ken's elderly mother. They have to live with this for the rest of their lives along with the families of others executed in this dreadful manner.

Friday, October 8, 2004

A Strange Visit

I was lying in bed.  I was in hospital. It had all happened so suddenly. X-rays on the Thursday, called back to the hospital on the Friday for many more. Being told to wait whilst the Consultant was called and then him telling me I was lucky to be alive. Could this be happening to me?  Yes, sadly it was. I had been telling my doctors something was wrong. They had been treating me for "nerves" for a few years. I had collapsed at work and my boss had taken me straight to my doctors' surgery. As it happened there was a new lady doctor who was there on a temporary basis.  She actually listened to me and she was the first one to suggest an X-ray. My regular doctors had never thought of that!

So on the Friday the Consultant gave me the bad news. The following Monday I was admitted to hospital. They put me in a little side room on my own. My parents were with me as I was unpacking my things.  The Consultant arrived with his Houseman. They wanted to talk to me. They had been studying my X-rays and discussing me. Their first idea of using plastic bone in my cervical spine, would not work they had decided.  They had come to tell me I would have two operations, one to remove bone from my hip and the second to insert that bone into my neck in the hope that it would grow naturally and fuse with the other bones. I had been walking around with a broken neck.  I was told that there were risks, that I could wake up paralysed or with some impaired movement. There was a slim chance I might not wake up at all. Afterwards, all being well, I would have to wear a brace for four months and, when it was removed, I would have to have intensive physiotherapy. I was numb with shock. My parents were numb with shock.

I went to the window and stared out at the hospital grounds and the car park.  A feeling came over me that this was the end. I was not going to make it.  I told my parents there were some letters I wanted to write and asked them to go and get themselves a cup of tea. I wrote to several friends saying my farewells. I made a list of how I wanted my belongings to be disposed of.  When my parents came back I handed them the letters and the list, I hugged them both and told them I loved them. They were distraught at my behaviour. They were in tears. I was in tears  They agreed to abide by my wishes.

Eventually they had to leave. I watched them depart from my window. I looked at the late sun, drinking in the glow, the warmth and thinking how sad I would never be able to enjoy it again. Night fell.  I had my nightcap - what I wanted most, a last cup of tea.  The nurse came and asked me if I wanted a sleeping pill in order to get through the night.  I told her no, this was my last night on earth and although I could do little but lay and watch the sky, that is what I wanted to do.  She argued with me. I was adamant. I told her my reasons.  She hurried away.

Dark.  The other patients were sleeping. I lay watching the stars out of my window, really appreciating just how beautiful they are. All was silent.  My door was open. The corridor lights had been dimmed for the sake of the patients. There was only just enough illumination for the night staff to go about their business. How long before morning? At that moment I had never felt more alive and never more awake. With the light of the moon and the stars and, peering very hard, I was just about able to make out the time on the travel clock I had brought in.  Two minutes to one. I lay back on the pillow once more turning my head to the stars.

Suddenly it was as if all the lights in the hospital had been put on, such a brightness and it annoyed me.  I could no longer see from the window properly. I thought of the other patients being awoken. I decided it must be a medical emergency and they had been forced to turn the lights full on.  I turned to the door. I could not see the corridor at all, only this ultra-bright light.

Out of the light there suddenly appeared a Nun.  She wore the same habit as in the picture above except that it was all white. No black.  She also wore a heavy gold cruxifix.  She walked to the end of my bed and stood there.  She smiled. I was flummoxed. I am not Catholic. Why was she here and more importantly, why was she here at this late hour? There must be a mistake. She had come to the wrong room.  Thoughts of Last Rites ran through my mind but then I decided only a priest could undertake those.

The light had dimmed once again in the corridor and all had returned to normal. The brightness had left the corridor but seemed to surround her but to a lesser degree.  She stood at the end of the bed, both hands on the iron rail of the bed end.  She smiled. I spoke.  "I am sorry, Sister, but I think you have the wrong room, I am not Catholic".  She smiled but did not move. "Sister, I did not send for you, I think there has been a mistake."  She still smiled.  I studied her for a few seconds whilst trying to think what to say next.  She was not a young woman, somewhere about her fifties I would say. She was on the plump side, whilst not fat. She had the most beautiful eyes, I still cannot describe them. They were just beautiful. She smiled. I could not help it - I smiled back.

As soon as I smiled she turned and walked across the rest of the small room - and out through the window!! How could she do that? I could feel the hair on my neck stand on end. How could she walk through solid glass and metal frame.  Not only that, I was on the second floor, a good twenty feet above the ground. I jumped out of bed and raced to the window. Had she fallen? No, nothing was below. Plain concrete. I scanned all around.  No Nun, in fact nobody at all. Just the dim glow of lights from other wards, shadows from scattered trees and the moonlight and starlight.

The strange thing was, I was not scared. In fact, just the opposite. I suddenly felt so calm, so peaceful and with a certainty that I was going to come through, that everything was going to be alright.  I climbed back into bed, lay facing the stars and fell into a deep sleep.

The following morning the nurses found me bright and chatty. Apprehensive about the surgery - yes, who would not be? A little afraid of it, yes, but nothing to how I had been the day before. They were amazed because it had been reported what I had said the night before and why I had refused sleeping tablets. They had expected to find me in a bad state.

The procedure went well . Several hours in the theatre and the skill and dedication of my surgeon had seen to that. Now it was only a matter of time.  I had to lie flat on my back for the next seven days so eating was difficult. I was in terrible pain from the operation. Nevertheless ten days later I was allowed home provided I stayed in bed with the doctor and the nurse making daily visits. I was not to remove my brace and was to be very careful in all I did. My mother had picked me up in a taxi.  I remember it so well because it was pouring with rain. My mother felt sorry it was raining for my homecoming. I told her I would never mind rain again because I was here and alive to see it.

After ten days in bed at home I was allowed to get up and sit in an armchair. They were gradually reducing my pain medication which, until then, had left me very groggy and half asleep all the time. In fact I slept most of the time. So it was not until about two weeks after my return home that I was able to fully talk to my mother. She sat in her armchair and I in mine.  I had not forgotten my strange visitor. I decided to tell my mother.

Something strange happened to me the night before my operation I started to relate. She interrupted me.  She asked me if I had seen something.  I replied that I had. She did not ask what.  She asked had it been around one a.m.  I said yes, it would have been exactly round one a.m. Then we both blurted out we had seen a nun.  Yes, my mother had seen one as well, at exactly the same time as me.  She had been unable to go to bed, so distressed at the letters I had written and how I had told both my parents I would not see them again. She decided to sit up all night as she knew sleep would elude her. She had the radio on softly, sitting in the light of just one small lamp and she was praying very hard.  She noticed a bright light in the hall and then in the doorway of the room stood a nun, just smiling.  Mum said she then knew herself that I would be alright and she was able to go to bed and sleep, knowing I was safe. She came to my chair and hugged me so hard. Neither of us could explain it.

A few months later my brace came off, I was x-rayed again. The bone had "taken". I had even been well enough, whilst still wearing the brace, to go on holiday which is where I got engaged to my beloved.  I even managed to swim with the neck brace on. When it was removed and all tests done, the Consultant said he would now arrange for a course of intensive therapy to help me regain the movement in my neck. "What, you mean like this" I asked, turning my head completely right, then completely left, letting my head fall onto my chest and tilting it backwards.  He was amazed. He asked if I had taken the brace off against his orders and been doing my own exercises. I told him definitely no.  He was intrigued by it because this had not occured in a patient before.  Fearing he would laugh, I told him about my strange visitor.  He did not laugh.  He said he had been told many strange things during his career and no longer closed his mind to anything.  Well, he said, "I think your nun must have brought you a little miracle,"  He was a lovely man and a great surgeon who has since passed away.

It happened.  It happened in 1970.  I have never forgotten it.  It is as clear in my mind now as it was then.  I cannot explain it. I am not Catholic although my great-grandmother was. I was not asleep, I was alert and wide-awake. I had taken no medication.

Some of you reading this might be sceptical.  I can only say that I have written the truth. Where she came from I do not know, who sent her - I do not know. I only know she gave me calmness of spirit, she gave me strength and she gave me healing. I thank the Lord she came to me that night. I thank the Lord that my mother was visited that night.

I still look at the stars. I think they are now more beautiful than ever.