I Was On A Break, But I’m Back! I Feel Great! Here’s What I Did On My Holiday…

I’ve been on an Ebreak. No iPad or iPhone for 8 days. No blogging or blog-reading for 9 days. No Social Media for 10 days. I didn’t take one photo. No texts.

I needed the break because I was exhausted. I wasn’t sleeping, my mind was racing all the time, coming up with ideas for posts, getting up in the night to write them up.

Blogging was beginning to feel like a full-time job. I was constantly taking photos for the blog, for Instagram etc. Every mealtime, my husband would have to wait to eat while I took photos, ususally asking him to move something that was in the background, even the furniture!

My family and friends needed support, which I’m always happy to give. But the phone was always ringing. Messages kept pinging. I felt stressed, my digestion was shot and I felt on edge. My back, neck and shoulders were so painful, I felt permanently hunched over, all my muscles were in a spasm.

Action was needed. So I had osteopathy and my Ebreak.

The first two days were easy. I regularly have osteopathy and always take the opportunity to have a break from electronic devices and to rest afterwards. For one reason or another, I hadn’t been able to fit in an appointment for some time and that’s why everything had built up.

After treatment, I naturally don’t want to start typing and scrolling – I don’t want to undo all the benefits by immediately returning to behaviour that had got me to that state. But after a couple of days, I get bored and twitchy. I want to know what’s going on.

Fortunately, this time the weather was mostly good and I was able to spend time outside, just relaxing, contemplating, watching the birds etc. My husband did a tidy-up of the garden while I supervised as he has a tendency to dig up the plants and leave the weeds!

I began to unwind.

I found I was going to bed earlier. I listened to relaxation tapes and audiobooks.

imageSoon, I got out my craft box and began making cards. I hadn’t made any since the start of the year and I’d missed it, but I could never tear myself away from the iPad long enough to change focus and concentrate on something else. It felt good to do something creative again. I became engrossed and time passed more constructively.

I really began to feel calmer. I could feel myself slowing down, my muscles relaxing. I was giving full attention to everything and everyone instead of reluctantly giving half an ear to what was being said while I continued to write a blogpost. I was more patient. I was taking note.

So much more was attended to. All those little things you keep meaning to do but never get around to. I sorted out the drawers of my desk. Decluttered my wardrobe. My bookshelves. The (grown-up) kids’ books. Dvds. I sent a lot of things to the charity shop, others went on Ebay (I had to rely on my husband for that, I was on a break!). I sorted through the dreaded paperwork.

Most importantly, healthwise, I also did a Raw Island One Day Juice Cleanse – more on that next time.

I would have managed a longer holiday, but on the eighth day I had to contact a company and the only way was by email. Unfortunately, this meant that I also saw I had 125 emails waiting in my inbox and I began to panic about how I was going to cope if they kept on coming. So I started to scroll through, deleting those that were just notifications, telling myself I would only do so many and then stop. But you know how it goes, one or two were from people who really needed the support of a full reply and before you know it, you’re back! But I’m trying to be more disciplined.

All in all, I thoroughly recommend taking a break from all the electronic chatter. Everything and everyone will still be there when you come back. I feel refreshed. I feel like I can be a little more disciplined about my iPad use and not quite so obsessive about checking up on everything and everyone.

I was a little anxious that people might have moved on, that out of sight might mean out of mind, but not at all. I had some lovely messages and comments awaiting my return which are much-appreciated, thank you.

Oh, and if you see me here after midnight, tell me to go to bed! (I now have 10 minutes to log off and make tracks!)

Enjoy the Friends Clip! (You’ll need to click onto the blog if you’re reading this via email).

http://youtu.be/oEn9YvJ3Gfg

Copyright: Chris McGowan

 

For Ruthie: on Your Non-Birthday!

imageToday is my beautiful, intelligent and talented daughter’s birthday (I’ll spare her blushes and omit her age). She won’t be celebrating it, however, as she leaves for work at 7am before her family are up and running and won’t get home until a rushed dinner, after which she has a parents’ meeting at school!

She does so much for everyone else, helping, advising, often pulling out all the stops with a hand-made present (see my quilted sofa cover below), but resists all attempts by us to arrange something for her.*

image

So this is my ‘surprise’ (for which read ’embarrassing and mortifying shock’ if/when she sees it!) I wrote this poem a long time ago when I was very ill in bed and dependent on a lot of personal help. Ruth was pregnant at the time, but still managed to come long distance to give me moral as well as practical support. She’ll never know how much her visits meant.

It’s not very good in poetic terms (I’m more than a little embarrassed myself to be putting it out in the world!) I was probably as high as a kite on painkillers and anti-depressants at the time (I no longer take them: juicing, herbal remedies and a healthy plant-based diet are far more effective).

I don’t know if she has ever seen it.

Fortunately, if she does read it, I will already be on my health hiatus, having back treatment and a break from my blog. I will. E incommunicado, so hopefully I’ll be able to dodge the fall-out!

For Ruth

My darling Ruth,

I have tried and failed

so many times

to put into words

– in just a few lines –

what your being here

means to me.

*

With your sparkling eyes

and your giggling laugh,

your sense of fun

has lifted me up

when I felt so down

and my future

so difficult to see.

*

You listen, amused,

while I chide your habits

of shopping and spending,

as you wash my hair

and change my bedding

or bring me cups

of warm green tea.

*

I’m amazed, but glad,

that you come back home,

excited and pleased

to just sit and chat

or be chivvied and teased,

and watch tv,

for without you

I couldn’t be me.

****

‘Thank you’ is never enough to express the gratitude I feel towards my son and daughter for all the support they have given and continue to give.  Apologies if this is a bit mushy, K and R – I’m your mother, it’s allowed!

Lights blue touch paper and retires…

*(Update: After much persuasion, she reluctantly agreed to a family Cornish cream tea party at the weekend! Sadly, I and my bad back missed out, but I was given a running commentary via photos and videos throughout the afternoon. The highlight was the two toddlers enjoying their ride in the Morris Minor, giggling the whole way – oh, and the ginormous chocolate orange jaffa cake our son made for my husband who was also celebrating his birthday:

image

(Credit, my son)

The middle orange layer was made with freshly extracted orange juice.

Copyright: Chris McGowan

Hand in Hand: A Poem for Father’s Day

image

We skip along hand in hand

I on the inside you on the outside

the birds sing the sun shines

on your little girl and my doting dad

*

We stride along side by side

I on the outside you on the inside

darkness falls the moon shines

on your feminist hippy and my fifties dad

*

We stroll along hands on the pram

I on the inside you on the outside

the birds sing the sun shines

on my newborn son and my proud dad

*

We saunter along,  a stick in your hand

I on the inside you on the outside

The clouds darken the rains fall

on your oldest child and my aging dad

*

I shuffle along hands by my sides

down the edge of the road

the air chills the trees stir

I’m all alone you’re no longer here

*

I miss you, Dad. Happy Father’s Day.

image

Copyright: Chris McGowan

My Dad Walked Straight and Tall Like A Soldier

image

My dad

walked straight

and tall

like

a soldier

*

My dad

messed about

in boats

like

a sailor

*

My dad

rode cycles

and bikes

like

a youngster

*

We walked

and

played

like

father and daughter

*

Then…

*

Grudgingly

I laughed

at

his antics

and jokes

*

Moodily

I removed

my make-up

and

rings

*

Frustrated

I cried

when

my arguments

failed

*

Guiltily

I accepted

his

money

and aid

*

Then…

*

Happily

we walked

and

laughed

till we cried

*

But…

*

Devastated

I learned

that

he

suddenly

died

*

Gratefully

I thank

his

support of

his daughter

*

My dad

was proud

and

smiled

like a

father

*

image

Copyright: Chris McGowan

Ode to Our Piano – What Happened Next…

Previously, in Ode to Our Piano …

image

When we left off, our lovely old walnut piano was to be collected by Forces Support, the charity that supports families of injured and lost service personnel, providing professional help with unfinished house and garden projects. We were so pleased and relieved that such a great charity was going to benefit.

Here’s what happened next…

imageThey didn’t turn up! The van broke down. They did, however, come the following week. With no wheels and a broken tailgate lift. There were two of them. A big strapping young man and a small, pencil-thin 17 year old who looked like he’d fall over if you breathed on him. He was horrified when he saw the size and weight of the piano. He wouldn’t even try to lift the lid, let alone the whole item. I felt sorry for him. The strong guy kept looking at it and huffing and puffing, clearly shocked at the fact that a) it was a piano not a sideboard that he had to pick up and b) the weight of said item.  No way were they going to be able to get it out of the house let alone into the back of the truck.

They left, apologetically, saying they would report back to HQ and see if they could get more bodies, some wheels and a truck with a working lift. They would call us in an hour.

*

Nope. None of those things came to pass. Next day, when I called, their manager said he had no further help and no other van and so we agreed that it would not be possible for them to take it after all. We were so deflated.

*

We couldn’t believe how hard it was to donate such a beloved piece of our family history! During all of this, I had read that a recycling plant in Bristol destroys 300 old pianos a week because no-one wants them. They cost up to £6000 to recondition and people can buy new ones from China for £600.

Everyone I told said ‘It’s a sign’ and ‘You have to keep it’. It made me tear up, but the decision was made and it had to go.

We reluctantly looked at eBay, but pianos were just not selling, even for 99p. Next was an ad on Freecycle, but even that was against us: the photo went on upside down!

imageFinally, the tried and tested method of giving stuff away for free: a notice on the garden gate! We put one on the drive gate, one on the path gate.

The piano was positioned in the window to be shown off to its best advantage. All the schoolchildren filed past day after day, some craning their necks to take a look, some laughing at our tomfoolery, one girl took down our number. The signs were in plastic covers and tied on tightly, but they blew about forlornly in the wind and rain. Even the weather had its opinion.

*

After several days we had all but given up. We were resigning ourselves to sending the piano to the local recycling centre – for which we would have to pay.

Late one afternoon, however, after the schoolchildren had paraded past once again, there was a light tap on the front door. I struggled to get to the door and couldn’t find the key! Eventually I opened it to find a woman standing there with her son still in school uniform.

Hesitantly, she asked if the piano was really available for free. Yes, Yes, Yes! Come in, I gushed, ushering them in like they were the Royal Family. She took one look and said I love it! Wait, I said, for I didn’t want any more hitches, you have to know that the left pedal has never worked and the third bottom key doesn’t work and the cat knocked over a vase of flowers on this corner, so there’s a mark and… and…

I could ‘hear’ my husband hissing stop, stop, you’ll put her off! but I wanted to make sure she knew what she was getting.

I’ll have it! she laughed. I laughed. Her son looked on amused almost shaking his head at these oldies.

*

It turns out she has 6 children. The son who was with her, Will, had seen the ad on the gate and told her about it. His 13 year old sister, Lottie (love their names), was desperate to play piano and was teaching herself via YouTube! They thought she would love ours. I was delighted it was going to another family.

So today, their older brother, Sam, and his two unsuspecting mates turned up with a van – and no wheels! – and after half an hour of pulling and pushing this way and that, turning it first one way, then around, a lot of head-scratching ensued – how did we get it in there in the first place?!  Then, after getting it and one of the lad’s thumbs and another’s toe wedged against the door jamb and the staircase, they got it out, on its side. My heart was in my mouth the whole time, concerned someone would put their back out and at the way this poor old lady was being manhandled. I completely missed the photo of the successful manoeuvre when they had to tip it up!

I hope it’s not completely wrecked and they’re not disappointed.  Of course, these poor lads had to do it all again at the other end, which was just down the street.

So bye-bye, piano. My eyes filled up as they drove away.

She has finally gone.

Along with half the paintwork!

image

Except, it didn’t end there! See Ode to Our Piano: Guess What?

Copyright: Chris McGowan

I Love My Garden!

image

(Image Credit: timelesswheel)

It’s yet another heavy, darkly overcast day and I felt so disappointed that yet again there was no sun showing off the garden to it’s best advantage. Yesterday, I had watched as the rain distorted the view we have from our kitchen window, and sighed. I have always looked forward to this time when all the blossom and the rhododendron flowers burst forth in a synchronised display and the garden looks altogether very pleased with itself.

I could see that there would be more heavy rain before long which might ruin the display so, checking first that it didn’t feel as wintry as it looked, I decided to make the most of it and sit outside drinking not only a cup of licorice and cinnamon tea, but also drinking in the spectacularly colourful show around me.

I love my garden. I love the peace of it. I can sit there in contemplation and hear only the birds, the bees, the occasional thwack of leather on willow in the distance (that’s cricket to my American readers!) or wood on wood from the local bowling green. Sometimes I can hear young children laughing and splashing in their paddling pool – children laugh so uninhibitedly, it always brings a smile to my face.

My garden is not perfect by any stretch of the imagination; it is informal, wild plants have insinuated themselves and been welcomed if they fit and don’t get greedy, while other cultivated plants have self-seeded in nooks and crannies, like the pink nemesia covering an ugly corner of the path, and have been allowed to take up residence.

I never fail to have my spirits restored and uplifted when I’ve been in my garden, even for just five minutes. Breathing in the fresh air scented with floral perfumes and sometimes wood smoke fills me with joy and gratitude. I feel renewed. Any stresses and frustrations are lifted for a while as my brow unfurrows and I lift my gaze from the ground and up towards the sky, the trees, the shapeshifting clouds.

I am always grateful that I have been fortunate to have this space and I wanted to share a part of it with you.

Forgive the quality of the pictures, I only have the iPad camera!

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

The baby apple tree will hopefully have a better backdrop soon: my lovely daughter has volunteered to paint the garage against which it stands after I gave up on the fairies performing this kindness over the past couple of years!

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

The bright pink azalea and the irises are from last year when the sun was more generous with its rays, this year the frosty hail and constant rain destroyed the azalea flowers before they could sit for a while and be admired, while the irises are still thinking about waking up.

I hope you enjoyed the show!

Copyright: Chris McGowan