Halloween....El Día de los Muertos or All Souls' Day

Halloween has arrived with indecent haste and for once the children playing Trick or Treat did not freeze. How weird is the weather? It is quite a miracle for me to be feeling warm this time of year. There are far too many customs and celebrations of this night, which seamlessly segue into tomorrow, to blog about so I will take it easy on myself and mention just a few.

My first memory of Halloween is running around at the age of 9 in RAF Gatow (Berlin), knocking on doors and actually being expected to perform a trick, in order to gain a treat. I wasn't quite sure where I got the idea from, possibly the American kids on the base. I can't remember dressing up either. One thing is for sure I didn't know why I was doing it, just that it was fun and being a fairly gregarious child, I was up for it! The mischief making generally ran to knocking on windows or doors and running away or using a water pistol. All very innocent.

Fast forward to tonight. I think I had around 60 kids knock on the door, all of them dressed as various ghoulish characters, from babies in prams, dressed as Pumpkins to larger boys in Scream masks. Every single one of them has been polite, supervised, or solo. With the help of Cadburys, I have avoided the tedious window cleaning that accompanies spirited egg throwing! Whilst I love to see the kids having fun, the question I ask myself is, am I paying my 'Shadow Taxes' to the racketeers of tomorrow? The children's costumes were, without exception, purchased and not made. I said 'Trick' once or twice just for the hell of it and was met by bewildered looks, one little boy almost bursting into to tears before, I managed to make up for my gaff with double chocolate rations. (These Vampires aren't what they used to be you know!)

The children do not know what this celebration means. Not in their own culture or that of the more diverse ones around the world. Just as many children are unable to explain the meaning of Christmas or Easter because of the tedious commercial circus that surrounds these events in this country. Yeah, you know where this one is going don't you! I could blame it all on our American cousins, but if they jump off a bloody cliff, it does not necessarily follow, that we should! (Unless your name is Blair, initial T!) If you are reading this , please take the time to explain to your children the roots of the calendar events we celebrate, because they are fascinating and educational. Mind you, if you are reading this, then you probably already have....she says grumpily! Lecture over.

Now to my romantic view of Halloween, All Hallows Eve. The night a Bridge is opened between the dead and the living. When midnight arrives so does The Day of the Dead. For the Mexicans and Spanish it is an important day. On All Hallows Eve, families go to the gravesides of their loved ones (in other cultures, it is to infants graves who have perished during the previous year) and clean the grave. On the Day of the Dead, donning their Sunday best they visit the graves on this day, often bearing gifts of food and trinkets. Then back home for a family meal and lots of anecdotes and toasts to their dearly departed kin.

What a fantastic idea! I have been in Spain for a couple of El Dia de los Muertos and what fun they have, remembering how great Uncle Miguel used to pass out when he had imbibed exactly 7 beers or how they miss and love their mother/father etc.... It is soothing for the living as well and they know that when their time comes they will be remembered in the same way. Arriving home, they all sit down eat a huge meal and get tipsy. Triffic!

I have had a good couple of days. I went out to dinner last night with another beautiful but unsuitable man. He was a lot of fun, good company and cheered me up no end. I have decided to try and avoid mentioning the 'A' word (age). I won't apologise for being 45 and he knew that when he asked me out. Why should I justify it, if it isn't an issue to him. Obviously I am not going to wander off into the sunset with him but we enjoyed each others company, had some good food and lots of laughs. Excellente! Sorry, I seem to Spanish tonight....

Ma and Pa came over today with the beautiful granddaughter Angelina. They brought The Git home, he has spent 5 days with them, giving me a much needed break. Angelina was very cute and such a good girl. Sian took her to the Eden project last night for a Halloween Party. Angelina took me by the shoulders ( I was kneeling down) and leaned close into my ear to tell me that the naughty dancing man did not scare her one bit! My girl is made of stern stuff , just like her Nanny! About half way through her story, she looked at me, frowned and stepped away. My mum is waiting for her new hearing aids and Angelina has been used to talking into her ear to make herself understood. We all had a good giggle and Angelina gave us the 'naughty face' and stamped her foot....see, just like her Nanny!

A bit of an embarrassing confession to end on for tonight. I got in the car (also known as shoe and evian water carrier) yesterday and couldn't start it. Battery fine, turning over fine (hot wire switch on...erm...long story) fine but it wasn't firing. Oh shit! I thought to myself, dad is going to have a field day when he comes over tomorrow. When did I last put oil in it...erm....how long since I checked the tyres...erm, better make up a story and get it straight before he arrives.

Dad stomped in and gave me the third degree. 'The thing with cars, Lynette (ouch...my given), is they need oil, water, petrol and servicing. You never do any of these things, and you expect it to run'. I stuttered for a bit and realised (yet again) that I was 5 years old, not 45, as I had previously thought! Its no good, as hard as I try, I cannot lie to Dad! He buggered off to the car and I grumbled to Mum. 'Well jolly well stand up for yourself' ,she said. 'Can't' I mumbled, 'I am only five'....

Two minutes later, in strides Dad. 'You' he scathed ' are out of petrol'! The silly moo bit was thankfully left out. Its a girl thing.......honest.

Stay Happy and Warm

Muse x

Back on Track

Musing tonight about a few things. The dating site I joined really has been an eye opener and many on the site do not actually know what they are looking for (me included)! I have been very lucky with the guys I have met, and in general, they have been personable and have treated me well.

I have been talking to another couple of guys from the site but we haven't 'dated' (awful word). M is someone I met whilst out on a date with another guy. We have the same background and have got on fantastically. He is going through a bit of a crises at the moment and has talked to me about it tonight. He has been offered a part in a Porn Film.....he he he....I can see you all hiding your shocked mouths behind your hands. Get over it!!

I was most interested in his news and proceeded to quiz him on it. I really thought he was winding me up and made him jump through some hoops in order to satisfy my curiosity. Apparently the form, is to submit your C.V, complete with most intimate detail, then off for medical tests (which apparently come back in 24hrs) and 'Bobs your Uncle'! He is looking forward to having fun with a couple of nubile young women, who would probably not normally give him the time of day (a little unfair as he is pretty gorgeous) but hey ! who am I to judge. Have fun M! Oh and do not forget to report back to me!

Another guy who is known to me as P is going through a long recovery after a Paragliding accident so we talk about pain and drugs and dealing with bad breaks in life. He is such an interesting guy and I love talking to him. He is also much braver and stronger than I will ever be. The lesson I have learned from the site is that there is more to life than dating pretty boys and there are some great people out there.

I have been ensconced in the Michael Palin's diaries. 1969 to 1979 - The Python Years. He is a very mild mannered man, who expresses himself in his writing. Until now, I did not realise how much of the Python/Ripping Yarns/Holy Grail/Jabberwocky/Life of Brian he was responsible for. I honestly thought it was John Cleese that wrote most of Python. It seems not. Cleese has been in psychotherapy for most of his adult life (not a critiscism) and it seems, is unable to multi task like Palin. Funny isn't it? It is always the quiet ones you have to watch! Palin is a very principled man and I admire his personal discipline. I suspect he also suffers with Aspergers.

One of his entries is dated Tuesday March 16th, 1976 (just managed to miss the Ides!). He says 'Harold Wilson is resigning'. At that moment in time I was in an R.E lesson with my form tutor a Mr Phil Jagger, who we absolutely adored. He would say things like 'pin back your lug holes and listen!' It was my first year at 'Big School' before swanning off to KRS in Cyprus, where school was much easier. I digress, our R.E teacher had gone off sick so Phil Jagger took the lesson and decided to play us The Lumberjack Song and other bits of Python rather than teaching us about religion. Most of the class were bored but even at the tender age of 12 , I got Python and was overjoyed at the Python record. Another teacher came in (his first name was Bill, P.E teacher and a good all round shouter, large gold rings and a medallion) and muttered to Jagger ' Wilson has resigned'. 'Fucking Hell' said Jagger. I was monumentally shocked, not by Python but by Jagger!

Thirty three years later and reading about that moment in time, took me right back to it. That my lovely readers is what my previous journals/ a blog is all about. It is recapturing a moment in time and being able to revisit it.

Namaste

Muse x

A Tough Week

I cannot believe a week has passed since I last put keyboard to screen. It has been a bit of a toughie on the Muse front. Close friends will know the main reason, I am unable share it with you as it may hurt another female, but I will no doubt get it out of my system eventually.

One of the reasons for my angst is, the dark approaching fast. The day after tomorrow, the clocks will go back and the sun will be low, just like my mood. It will take me a couple of weeks to adjust but I am determined to do so. Next week is carefully planned - three visits to the sunbed ( I normally do two a month), hairdresser and lots of cleaning. Turfing out spiders, cleaning windows, getting rid of clutter, passing on books. It is something I do every year, not spring cleaning but divesting myself of everything unnecessary as the the winter months crush me so badly. I will not let the dark beat me this year, 'think positively, act amazingly and pull yourself through' is my current Mantra. None of this would be possible without my loving friends and family. That is the difference this year, I am finally out of my shell and embracing life. Bless you Helen for reminding me of the important things in life. Thank you Kath for being steadfast and sure. Mr S, you have been wonderful and I am so lucky to have you in my life. Okay, emotive bit over!

Some of the difficulties this week have stemmed from The Git and of course the TWMBO's. However, his teachers have been very patient with him over the last two weeks and he has been uncooperative and sullen, refusing to take on any responsibility. The mornings, in particular, have been very difficult and stressful. He refuses to shower, clean his teeth, do homework or talk to me. The turning point came last night, when I burst into tears before him. He was utterly horrified and put his (somewhat unclean arms) around me. We sat and talked and he realised how much his Ma worried about him and said he was sorry. No doubt the problems will continue, of that I am sure because an 11 year old boy, who has difficulty communicating with anyone can only snatch a moment to realise that actions have consequences. However, it was enough to calm me and enable me to renew my connection with him. I am so grateful for that moment in time.

Time to lighten up and get back to myself. Had a weird day on Wednesday. I spoke to Hyacinth (the mother who must be obeyed at all costs), she told me that my ex husband was coming down to visit older chicklets. I have not seen him for nearly 15 years.

This is due to:-

a) Me being completely impossible.
b) Him having a long relationship (plus lovely child) with rough Edinburgh woman who said she may kill me if I dared go near him!
c) Him working abroad so we were never in the same country at the same time.

I digress. I spoke to the chicklets and they assured me it would be fine to satisfy my curiosity. I drove to Sian's and tried to look my best, difficult when I could not get a hairdressers appointment that morning. Ce la Vie! Wandered in, very calm, said hello to my beautiful granddaughter and pecked him on the cheek. He looked exactly the same. Tanned, 6ft and the biggest beer belly I have ever seen! He is naturally tall and thin and he looked like he was about to give birth! Nope, not being bitchy, just telling it like it is. He seemed much more confident in himself, which is good. We went outside for a smoke and he immediately got nervous around me. I wonder why? So much water has passed under the bridge that surely things between us should not matter? I was sad to discover that he had still not forgiven me. He was married to the army and not me, which is why, when he was posted to Scotland, I refused to go and moved to Devon, where my parents were. I obviously hurt him badly and finally realise how much that has affected him. We had a picture taken together. I am glad we met. I have learned that facing your past, square on, will help you to MOVE ON.

Bit of a serious post tonight but its good to write it down. The Muse may not be herself at the moment but she is determined to sort it out.

Love and Peace to you All x

A Fine Line......

Musing tonight about the fine line between love and hate. I have been sat here tonight thinking about my true friends, thinking of past and almost, present lovers and trying to get up to 'two' hands counting them in. I have a very small number of true friends, they know who they are, but can you indulge me for a sec' when I say, 'miss you so much Nige'.

The thing is you either 'get' a person or you don't, it really is that simple. A blogger friend, Mr S, talked about the subtle difference between love and hate and I think his words make an awful lot of sense. No matter how close you are to a person, you have the capacity to do both.

What makes a wife hate her husband, when she dislikes and tolerates him 'for the sake of the children'? What makes a husband betray his wife, when he does everything he can for the kids, that are not his own in the first place, whilst his wife shows her dismay?

Just questions...... not judgements. The only thing is to sit down and evaluate all that you have achieved together. Hey, you both started out with a big dream and that dream has had it's hiccups. It is not impossible to get back on track and see this whole thing as an opportunity. Perhaps you will get back to that dream in your heart? Let's hope so.

I am a little bored at the moment, reading a lot, cleaning the house, shoving conkers in odd places as Marie, has assured me, this will keep the 'Harry The Bastards' out of the house. Erm...perhaps I ought to explain 'Harry The Bastards'. The Harry's in my house are large Hairy Spiders, dutifully named after my ex-army husband's Staff Sgt, who was called Harry, he addressed every Junior Rank as Bastard and stole all their ciggies! (Oh and he was very hairy!) By the way, I can do all the small ones, no problem! Some other quaint nicknames in my household are 'Egg and Civvies'. Well, we could never do Egg and Soldiers could we?, not with our background!

The others are my children, being beautiful in their innocence. I planted Marigolds and photographed a 3 year old James (who is now just a few days short of his 22nd birthday) in the midst of them and he told me that he loved the Garimolds (yeah, I know you will smile at that one Mr Farrington!). There are so many, but one of the funniest was spending 4 years on the North Devon Coast with The Git, who told me he hated the Ski-Gulls! (One had swooped and pinched his ice-cream!)

Muse signing off now but just a little thought to leave you with.....

All men dream but not equally. Those who dream by night in the dusty recesses of their minds wake in the day to find that it was vanity; but the dreamers of the day are dangerous men, for they may act their dream with open eyes to make it possible.
T.E. Lawrence

Stop All The Clocks.

Posting this for the lost boys......

Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone,
Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone,
Silence the pianos and with muffled drum
Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.

Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead
Scribbling on the sky the message He Is Dead,
Put crepe bows round the white necks of the public doves,
Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves.

He was my North, my South, my East and West,
My working week and my Sunday rest,
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;
I thought that love would last for ever: I was wrong.

The stars are not wanted now: put out every one;
Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun;
Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood.
For nothing now can ever come to any good.

Time to Emigrate to Ascension Island

I have been unable to blog the last week as I really haven't had the energy. I have spent the whole of the last week trying to put my finger on the source of my ennui and lethargy. Then it hit me! Somehow I had not realised that September had slipped into October and for me that is the time of year when my body tells me winter is upon us and I should go to bed and hibernate until at least mid February. No cheeky cracks at my similarity to a hamster please!

Being a child of the sun, I suffer with Seasonal Affective Disorder, known to many as SAD. When I first came across the condition, I did not take it seriously and dismissed it as another label used to describe lazy people. But as the years have gone by, I realise that this is me, whether I like it or not.

I hate the winter and I think the only place I could escape this condition is a climate such as Ascension Island, subtropical and on the equator. Hmmm....bit of a rock in the middle of the Atlantic but what a fabulous place. I was lucky enough to visit three times as my father was working there for the Donut Fryers. I was pregnant with my second child during my first visit and remember everything about it. No alcohol to kill off the brain cells you see! I also met people that would become my lifelong friends.

I had a wonderful time full of beach barbeque's, sun downer parties and the strange dancing habits of the St Helenan Male! Most of the British husbands (mine was serving a tour of Norway at the time) refused to dance so the lovely Saints became our dance partners. Oh, they were the days of legend, when Tag Mullins, jumped in the sea at night and swam across the bay, closely followed by two (or was it 30) large sharks! (Sharks were just paying him back as Tag was a lunatic Shark fisherman, despite, somehow, passing the security vetting the Donuts imposed.) Driving around the place was hazardous to say the least. The roads were regularly washed away by rain storms and donkeys just loved to stand in the middle of the road on a particularly dark night. The St Helenans gave everyone a nickname and the mechanic was called Small Change! My dad was called 'Knife Man', quite a compliment as the Saints usually only gave names to their own. So, no roads, donkeys and waving at every single driver you passed was the cause of much havoc.

Eight years later, newly divorced and newly redundant I was looking forward to a few parties. I arrived on the Tri Star and promised Dad, I would not sign any bar chits. Bar chits are a pretty wonderful thing. The Island population didn't usually deal in cash, subsequently, everyone had an account with all the Clubs/Petrol Station (one pump only) and NAAFI shop. I was supposed to stay for 10 days and ended up staying 7 weeks! Friends looking after my house/car in the UK nearly reported me missing to the local constabulary! I was so careful at the start of my visit to give dad any money for drinks imbibed but at 3 in the morning, all common sense goes out of the window. Actually my bar bill was only about £200 but my younger sister's (who had visited a few weeks before me) bill, apparently broke all previously held records! Poor dad! All he did was stomp about and mutter about petrol and beer bills.

We had a fantastic time. The parties were out of this world. I went to a beach party at the American base. Say what you like about the Americans, but they certainly know how to throw a good party. Large amounts of gorgeous food, lots of ice and a lot of funky, if somewhat dated music, right on the beach. There was no licensing so everyone bought a bottle of spirits and a case of beer, problem solved. I came across the Chief Clerk at one point, holding tightly onto a post. "Why are you holding on to that post Dave", I said (it was early and I was still capable of speech). "If I let go, I fear I may fall over" was his reply! Chief Clerk was to be seen at his desk in fully pressed uniform and shiny shoes at 07.00 next morning. Talk about stamina!

Every club on the Island has a beach hut and one of my favourites was the Turtle Beach hut owned by the RAF. Turtle Beach is one of the most beautiful on the Island and named for the green turtles that lay their eggs there. We used to camp out over night at the hut, erm...camp is a bit of a strong word actually. Every beach hut had a mains power supply, kitchen, loo and BBQ. So it was great fun to chill, have a few shipwrecks (rum and coke) and after you had got long suffering dad to drive you there in the first place, go find a turtle hole, in which to snog your latest beau. In my defence, I met The Gits dad there so only actually had two beaus! I remember waking up with a start one morning as half the US Air Force flew over Turtle Beach and I am not exaggerating! I was pretty grumpy as we barbied our sausages for breakfast. Turned out the, then Vice President, Al Gore was visiting for the day. Seems he wasn't 'Mr Green' way back then!

Now there is drunk and there is stupid and drunk. On one occasion I was the latter. I decided in my 4 a.m. wisdom that I wanted another drink and nothing was going to stop me so I went to The Exiles Club, which was situated on the top of an 18th Century marine barracks with an outside staircase leading up to it. The bar had a key code to get in and you could get a drink at anytime of the day by using the code and signing a chit. The door had a pillar next to it and it was actually possible to climb over the balcony without using the code. I was so blasted I could not remember the code and decided to climb around the pillar (some 30ft up) in four inch heels after 13 shipwrecks! Not a good move, how I survived to tell this tale, I have no idea!

Oh I feel better now. This blog tonight started out as a rant about the British winter and turned into a wonderful trip down memory lane. Just what I needed to stave off the winter blues.

I suppose I ought to update you on the bloke situation. I had a lovely time last weekend with 'Mr S' and feel I have made a friend for life but I am still single and quite determined to get out there and meet more people.

Be Kind to yourself.

Muse x

Facebook...a scary premis?

Here I am at last, after a few days of hell with nasty toothache. It is still going on and I am just about ready to knock on the the local vets door and beg him to put me out of my misery. I was prescribed the wrong dose of antibiotics and so 5 days later there is no improvement and I have to admit I am struggling. I am trying not to be too grumpy but when you are in pain its so difficult to put a smile on your face. Oh well, I am looking forward to 'another' putting that smile back this weekend! Brings new meaning to the words 'take your mind off it'! Hee hee, just a naughty little Muse joke!

Those that know me are aware that I have a terrible facebook habit and really must seek professional help for it. However, when I broke my elbow, it became my lifeline and a way to keep in touch with all of those nearest and dearest to me. My love affair with FB is slowly fading, as I once again embrace the real world. I have discussed FB with a few people and they are divided into two camps. The first say it is a wonderful thing to do and love sending hearts, bunnies, kisses and other various yak to each other, whilst playing mindless addictive games. The second say they would never put their details on there as FB is used by the government as a way to snoop into peoples lives. Each to their own I guess.

I have one foot in each camp. Yeah, I love keeping in touch with my friends and play a word game called Pathwords because I can no longer write for long enough to do a daily crossword and need to keep my brain active. But if anyone dares to send me bunnies, teddies ..etc they are immediately ex-communicated, never to be seen again.

I have happily posted my details, and tend not to worry about it because HELLO, you are talking to a Donut child here! Yes the big 'G' probably do have a wander around FB but exactly what are people posting that could be of interest? Lets face it, you are in control of what you write and if you are stupid enough to include your bank details, complete with pin number, then on your head be it! If you have an email account or have ever shopped online or indeed use the Internet at all, you are exposing your personal life willingly and often without thought.

The only thing that sets my teeth on edge about FB, is that 'six degrees of separation' thing. I already know how small the world is because of my background. For instance, back in June I attended a mini school reunion in Dorset. A couple of old school friends from the frozen North came down for a holiday and booked a tiny cottage in the middle of the beautiful Dorset countryside. Nothing for miles,(not even a mobile signal...grrrr!) except for a picturesque pub and I travelled up to see them, booking a room at said pub. Regular readers of this blog, will know we went to school in Cyprus, on a military base. We got chatting to the landlord, only to find that he was Head Army Chef at the base whilst we were at school. Cue Twilight Zone music. Of all the pubs and all the villages we could have chosen....

I guess what I am trying to say is none of us usually sit down and think about how entwined our lives really are but with the explosion of the WWW the world has become one Lilliputian village. That doesn't sit very easily with me, in fact it disappoints me because that insistent travel bug in my blood still swims strong and as soon as The Git is old enough, I shall be off again. No pipe and slippers for me, thank you very much! Enough of my meandering thoughts, its these pills you know, I do feel very out of focus at the moment.

It has been a good but tiring day. I went to the hairdresser as usual, I go twice a week and let the juniors practice on me. My lovely hairdresser Jess is nearly 18 and learning to cut. Sitting still was never one of my strengths but with a bad tooth it was even more difficult. I was a good girl though, I sat and watched the concentration on Jess' face as she cut my hair beautifully and gently reminded her to breathe from time to time. So well done Jess, you are a little shining star. Then to the beauty salon for.....ahem, well what goes on in the salon is between a girl and her beautician. Oh and clothes shopping. I failed miserably and returned with two pairs of boots. Bad, bad Muse, tut, tut! Can't help it, shoe habit, must seek urgent help!

So I am sat here blogging when I really should be upstairs sorting out what to wear on my date tomorrow night. Right I had better leave you in peace and have a wander through my wardrobe.

Be Kind to yourself

Muse x