Hi, just a quick introduction about me and what my site is about. I am a 50 something woman, a woman in my prime, some would say. I would say just a woman, getting on with life and learning and discovering along the way.
I like to write. I write about anything and everything. It all depends on my mood, on if I feel I have something to say or if something just pops into my head and turns out to be the first line of a new poem.
I like to write about my life, my experiences or my perceptions of things. I have no distinctive style or agenda, just thoughts, the good, the bad and the ugly and I like to relay them here. Whether it is a relationship with ourselves, our families, our friends, or the world and planet around us, we all have relationships and we all have an opinion, an observation or an impact in those relationships.
I hope you enjoy this journey with me and I hope you can relate with some of what I have to say or at least that you may get a bit of a giggle sometimes. I wish you all the best in all your Relay shun ships…….
Suspicions, traditions, folklore, fairytales….what and why do we believe or hold so much store in these tales, passed down from generation to generation.
Today is Friday the 13th! My oh my…the fear that this day brings to some people. If something bad does happen today to someone, no doubt it will be because ‘it’s Friday the 13th’. Something bad happened to someone yesterday, and something bad will happen to some tomorrow, so why will that be? It can’t be because of the date, can it?
I live at No. 13. I bought this house four and a half years ago and have not experienced any bad luck…in fact, quite the opposite.
Going over all the places I have lived since I was born, and there have been quite a few I realised I have lived in these numbered properties: 1, 8, 10, 13, 14, 15, 20,22, 116, 495 and I have a lived in two properties in Ireland where we don’t have house numbers, just townlands and the postman just knows the house by your name.
When I bought my current house, No. 13, my mum said I should change it to 12A. I smiled and for all the good advice she has given to me over the years, I decided not to take her advice on this.
I have, over my life, walked under ladders, broken a mirror, had black cats cross my path etc. I have had both good and bad things happen to me, but not necessarily as a direct result of these events. Like night and day, sunshine and rain where one follows the other, how we perceive it, is just that, perception.
So where do the origins of No. 13 being unlucky come from? Norse Mythology seems to shed some light on it. Loki, a shapeshifter God, is considered a trickster God full of cunning. His aim was apparently to create chaos and was neither all good nor all bad. However, he orchestrated the death of Balder, the God of Light at the dinner party of 12 Gods. Loki was the 13th God, but was an uninvited guest at said dinner party!
Religion, Christianity. Judas Iscariot the 13th person at The Last Supper. He was the man who betrayed Jesus for 30 pieces of silver (the night before the crucifixion, which was a Friday). He then, so we are told, felt bad and tried to return the silver.
There are two accounts in the bible: Matthew 27:5 States that Judas hanged himself due to his remorse. Acts 1 1:18-19 states that Judas bought a field with the money and fell, headlong, and his body burst open. Theologians suggest that he hung himself in the field, the rope or branch broke, and he decomposed.
The next historical event Friday 13th, 1307. The Pope, Clement V and King Philip IV of France ordering the arrest of the Knights Templar, including the grand Master, Jaques de Molay, who was tortured. It is said he cursed his captures and vowed the curse would continue and would bring woe and misfortune throughout the ages on the date of his arrest!
So there we have it. Three significant events linking the No. 13 and turning it into a cause and effect that all bad things, must happen on the 13th. The 13th day, the 13th floor of a building, the 13th Number of a house.
But then, as with everything, there has to be a flip side. How many good things have happened on the 13th day, the 13th floor of a building, the 13th number of a house.
In China No. 13 is considered assured growth. In Italy, it is associated with fertility, life and prosperity and in numerology it views No. 13 as opportunities and new beginnings. The Native Americans consider 13 as a sacred symbol of good luck, fertility and cosmic order.
Given that I have an open mind on such things and given that I dared to buy a house with the No.13, have booked trips on the 13th day, have sat in seat No. 13 on a aircraft, train and ferry I can categorically say that I have come to no harm. Now, just to convince potential purchasers to come buy my house, so I can get exploring my next adventure!
On that note then, go an enjoy your Friday the 13th and put some good vibes out to the universe.
Happy Valentine Eve…… now that poor man is another story…..His horrific end happened on the 14th, but it is said to have been a Friday !
What do you enjoy doing most in your leisure time?
I like to get lost….painting and creating. I left school at 16 but my art teacher would tell me that my painting was rubbish and messy.
I didnt paint a picture again until about 6 or 8 years ago, in my early 50’s but first I began by painting and decoupaging furniture.
It was then I realised that it wasnt necessarily the outcome, but the process of squeezing the paint from its tube, dipping the brush into it and just getting lost and so focussed at the same time.
It is like gojng down a rabbit hole on an adventure and it is fun and therapeutic.
I have large gaps inbetween painting/creating due to other demands on life but when im in the mood or have time for it, it totally takes me over !
So if your art teacher tells you that your work is rubbish, just carry on and enjoy the process…
I love a good daily prompt to get the mind focussed and thinking. So what does make a good leader?
Is it a list? if so, can it be applied generally across the board to all and sundry? let’s see:
Edward de Bono said the Blue hat, from his six thinking hats, is a good leader. The blue hat is, and I quote ” used to manage the thinking process. It’s the control mechanism that ensures the six thinking hat guidelines are observed……
What are the other hats I hear you ask. In summary they are:
White Hat – collects the facts and only the facts.
Yellow Hat – symbolises optimism and brightness, ie. explores the positives and benefits.
Black hat – The risk management hat. Spots the difficulties and risks.
The red hat – Feelings, intuition, hunches, likes and dislikes,
The Green hat – focuses on creativity, possibilities, alternatives. This hat sees opportunities to explore new concepts.
So collectively, in the board room we effectively could do with a person to wear each hat and put their thoughts, feelings and ideas to the blue hat, or the blue hat must ensure that he has covered the thinking processes of the other hats if he is to make a decision all by himself/herself.
Lets test this with Winnie the Pooh. When there is a problem it is usually to him that most of the other creatures go. He usually responds with optimism, consideration and empathy. He is definitely a problem soother but is that enough to lead?
What about Christopher Robin, the only human amongst the creatures. He generally is the one that the animals go to when they have a BIG problem. He is most certainly, more often than not, a problem solver.
What about the ‘what I say goes’ type of leader. The organizer, the planner, the hit the ground running, even if other’s do not necessarily agree…mmmmmm, Rabbit is a bit like that, wouldn’t you say? Me too sometimes! yikes, my bad!!
Do we need a mentor to lead, the knowledgeable one. The one with the facts, like Owl. He reads a lot and knows a lot. Surely he can show them all the way?
and then there is Kanga, the steady, nurturing, caring, understanding creature. Can she lead on that alone or does she need the knowledge, the planning, the organisation, the optimism and consideration of all the facts?
What about courage, tenacity, honesty, ability to listen but also plough on in the face of adversity? Does a good leader need to step back, observe, listen, delegate, give responsibility to, his team, his friends, his family, whatever it is he/she is supposed to be leading?
I think a good leader is all the above, a person who knows that they cannot do it by themselves, for that is just ego. They must trust others, support others, allow others to contribute at the table, and understand that in order to lead you must also stand back.
Now the only other thing to consider is in terms of leadership, is to know that not all leaders are necessarily good, or have good intentions for the greater good of others. Some leaders are driven by greed, power, control and dominance.
Watch any Marvel movie, watch any piece of history, recent, or otherwise, and you will see what consequences have been as a result of poor or insincere leadership.
So, like in the world of the 100 acre wood, lets be a Winnie the Pooh & gang kind of leader.
It’s almost upon us….December. Never mind that very special person with a beard and red suit, who comes bearing gifts and leaves them under the tree for all the ‘good’ children, it is also almost the end of another year!
So what did you do this year? Was it hectic, was it fulfilled, was it the same as any other year? Were you in the doldrums, did you realise your dreams, edge closer to your dreams, change direction? Did you endure it with sadness and lose someone significant? Questions, questions, questions!
My year began with deciding to go house hunting in the sun for a holiday home. Having lost both parents in the previous two years, one after the other, my brothers and I shared the proceeds from the sale of their house, our family home. It was a difficult time, but we had to be practical.
I am usually so bad with money, in one hand and out the other, like sand falling hurriedly through my fingers. I really didn’t want to squander what my parents had worked so hard for, and so, the search for a holiday home in the sun began.
By April I had picked up the keys to my place in the sun in Spain and have managed to go there 4 or 5 times since then. For that I have been very grateful (especially to my boss, who has let me have flexi time at work) and of course to my parents, whom I think they would approve of how I spent ‘their money’.
I managed to slip and bash my head whilst in Spain, which required 4 staples and a night in hospital. Thank God no lasting damage…. it could have been a lot worse! It was also a bit of a wake up call.
I visited there with my brother on one occasion and my grandchildren on another. I also visited with one of my friends. I was happy to share this new ‘home’ with them and let them imagine me there should I ever leave Ireland.
Each time I went to Spain I wanted to stay longer and longer and longer. So much so that now, as this year is drawing to a close, I have put my house up for sale, with a view to going to my place in the sun and then deciding, ‘what next’.
Travel has always been on my bucket list. I want to go to places I have never been, if only for a short time, few weeks, few months, longer if possible. Travel without worrying about having to go to work. To just do what I can do with the means that I have.
Impulsive by nature and not one for sitting still for too long I think, ‘what’s the worst that can happen’? With each year rolling quicker and quicker into the next, losing loved ones along the way, good friends and family, it is a stark reminder of how quickly time flies and how precious life is.
I also turned 60 this year so realise there is a lot less time ahead of me that what has gone before. With that in mind I want to take the bull by the horns and try something new….. again.
Is that selfish, is it reckless, is it foolish or is it brave. Maybe it is all of the above! I can only live my life. No one can live it for me, so on that basis, I should just bite the bullet and give it a go…… once my house here actually sells that is!
However, there is a caveat to that. I change my mind like the weather. I drive myself nuts with all my different ideas and plans, but at least, I have ideas and plans and that is what matters isn’t it? To keep thinking, hoping, dreaming, planning and then ‘doing. If we don’t try, nothing changes right?
I moved to this current house 4 years ago. A lovely house in a lovely part of the country. During that 4 years I have grieved 3 very significant people. Started a new job where I currently still work and couldn’t ask for a nicer boss who also became my very good friend. Met several really nice people in my neighbourhood and joined two writing groups where we meet once a week.
I have been welcomed here and made to feel ‘part of the tribe’. People I would never have met, if I hadn’t made the move. I wonder then, who and what is waiting for me in my next move? That is what fills me with excitement and a strong sense of curiosity.
In the words of Anais nin “life shrinks or expands in proportion to one’s courage”
So, here’s to another, almost, end of a year and hopefully an exciting new year ahead with new adventures!
See how she danced Light like air Gentle as summer rain She caressed and kissed their form Gleefully and abiediently, they stood to attention Welcomed her with oustreched arms Their green velvet cloak glistened as She teased and weaved her luminescent Magic at the foot of the forest floor, Leaving them breathless and just as quickly as she swept in illuminating all around her, off she spun, like a rolling stone…..
The leaves are falling already, so autumn is well and truly on its way. The last of the summer sun is fading fast and the temperatures are definitely dropping. The chill is in the air.
I don’t mind autumn so much. I like the colours, the reds, the russets the browns, and the berries on the trees. Nourishment. I don’t mind going from summer shirts to light weight jumpers and from sandals to covered in shoes. Soon, it will be boots. The transition is gradual. You know its coming.
There are still days to be hopeful for big bright open skies that stay bright until late evening…. that is, of course, until the last Saturday in October, when the clocks go back and the nights draw in, and the sky turns black at 5 O’clock. Oh dread!
They both died in the autumn. The sky was still blue. The sun was still shining, the leaves had begun to fall but the darkness came before the last Saturday in October.
My mum, she was 80 when she died. She died peacefully at home, in my arms. If you could have a ‘good death’, she had it, quietly and calmly, she drifted off. She was at peace, but I miss her.
My friend was 56. Hers was the shocker, the unexpected, the one I felt the most angry about. Still do. Not old age. Not a terrible accident. No, that dreaded word, Cancer. The cancer was back. It had gone, but then it came back. She had 10 days. We had 10 days. 10 days of knowing, that this was it, this was the end. How do you prepare for that, come to terms with that, accept that, without being angry. She was tired, she was reconciled, she was ready, she said. I wasn’t, still aren’t.
Now another winter is coming. I dread the thoughts. Dark nights, stormy weather. Cold, freezing temperatures, power cuts. Damp, wet, bleakness.
Eat, comfort food, sit warming by the fire, watch tv, read. Hibernate or …..Head south for winter. Become a snow bird and leave the black behind, the dark, the drudge, leave it there, in the cold stone hearth. Leave the comfort of the comfort zone.
Let me be a snow bird. Let me stay in the light, feel the sunlight on me. Open the door to all sorts of unknown opportunities. Let me wander, let me explore, let me soar. Don’t let me stop me. Here now, let me open that door !
ffwiiit, chip chip chip chip ffwiitt, chip chip chip chip shwoosh, swoohsh, shwoosh jingle, jingle, jingle jangle, jingle, jangle, jingle the breeze blows a gentle gust enough to tickle the wind chime into peaceful melody and the birds, busy in their chatter hiding on the branches repeating their Tourette like banter as I bask in the tranquillity of it all surrounded by flowers, and shrubs and roses profusion of colours and scents and structures food for the wildlife, the bees, the butterflies the pesky greenfly, slugs and snails each of us speaking a foreign language independent of the other yet, we co-exist in harmony and when I leave this place, this garden, which I planted and grew with love, for them for me, for the next guardian of my haven I wonder, will they even care?
“Green, how I love you. Green Green wind. Green Branches, boat on the sea and the horse on the mountain. On the face of the cistern, the gypsy woman rocked. Green Flesh, green hair , with eyes of cold silver. An icicle from one of them holds her over the water. Green how I love you, green wind. Green branches. Can’t you see the wound I have from my chest to my throat? let me climb at least to the high railings and let me climb. Let me reach the green railings. Railing of the moon where the water rumbles” Frederica Garcia Lorca
This is a direct translation from the Spanish writing on the fountain. Like many other fountains, dotted around Lanjaron, situated at the foothills of the Alpujarra mountains in the Granada province, they all have inscriptions from Frederica Garcia Lorca, famous Spanish poet and playwright.
It is no wonder when I first visited this quaint little town, that I felt quite at home. It had a nice quiet yet welcoming atmosphere. Typically Spanish and surrounded by the most magnificent breath taking mountains.
As we drove down the centre of the narrow town, eyeing the pretty balconies, adorned with plants and colourful flowers I watched carefully, the people slowly going about their day. Some sitting on benches, chatting. Others watching the world go by, and the ladies inside the grocery shop, baskets hanging in the crook of their elbows, ready to carry their fresh produce home. I knew then, before I even looked at the house, which I was there to view, that I would buy it.
A town steeped in history and deriving from pre-roman and significant moorish settlements, this town has survived and thrived and is known as the gateway to the Alpujarras.
As you leave the motorway and head up the winding road the 12 minute journey to the town is truly remarkable. As you pass under the modern metal bridge, on the first stretch of the road, an ancient bridge, hidden below, known as Peunte de Tablate, used in yesteryear in the many battles which occurred in this region.
A whitewashed church sits to the side of the bridge as the ravine unfolds this ancient structure.
Modern day and bygone days bridges sharing space and time side by side, but if the mountains could talk, the stories they could tell!
Further up and past Lanjaron, some 45 minutes takes you to a pretty little town called Capileira. This is the highest village in which cars can travel and its elevation is some 1,436 m. A great town to base if hiking is your thing.
Even the beautiful flowers love this little tourist town. A red heart climbs the wall as it reaches for the stars.
Pampaneira, below Bubion and Capileira is another pretty and quite a bustling town on the way back down toward Orgiva and ultimatley home, to Lanjaron. The spring waters running through the middle of the town, the musicality of its trickle, soothing. The scent of the jasmine, honeysuckle and the showstopping vibrant colour of the bourgainvillea are abundant as you meander the streets of this town. The geraniums line white washed streets in terracotta pots and immediately make you smile. The church in the plaza towering over the restaurants and street vendors is a site to behold and a santury, not only for prayer, but for shade and cooling down from the intense heat.
A nice way to spend the day and discovering the part of the Alpajarras, taking a slow drive up, up, up the mountain. Tasting the local cuisine. Having a cold beer or a cold glass of water and drinking in the scenery, the scents, the history and remind yourself, how very lucky you are to discover such a beautiful place, and even, for a short while, call it ‘home’.
Relay shun ships 
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