old time religion

OK. To the two friends who read this, don't fall over in shock. I've been reading a couple of religious blogs of late. One by an American woman who is married to a minister, or maybe she is one, not sure, and the other by a woman who runs a church somewhere in rural England. (see on the right there, the link to Good In Parts). I found her while I was searching for George Herbert. As you do. I don't get the God bit really, but I like the way they talk about life, it's sort of thoughtful and sorted out.

Breakfast in Bed

So the project of the weekend (apart from a trip to the seaside, which was FAB) was to teach Jack how to use the toaster. One of his friend's parents said to me last week that he was plenty old enough to do more stuff for himself. So I taught him how to make toast, and he was pretty pleased with himself.

This morning we woke up quite early, so I said "you can bring me my toast in bed if you like." Off he went, and ten minutes later reappeared with a plate of toast in each hand, concentrating so hard so as not to drop the toast or the butter knife. His hair (dark brown like mine) is quite long at the moment, and the look of concentration on his face, with his fringe flopping over his eyes, was a sight to behold.

The Queen

Meant to go to this when it came out, but only just got round to it, spurred on by Helen Marvellous Mirren's Oscar. (And found a lovely date to go with. Yay. But more of that later.) It's a really interesting movie. I find it hard to sympathise with people who have everything laid on for them. But they got you really seeing things from the Queen's point of view. Interesting stuff. There's a bit in the middle where they show you the Queen crying, all by herself in the middle of Scotland where no-one could see. But they only filmed her back, as if even all alone in Scotland, the Queen may not be seen crying, It intensified the isolation and oddness of her life.

domestic hiss

Grrr. Every single day this week some annoying thing has gone wrong in the house. Sunday it was the light outside the front door. Once you are inside the light fitting, it's just a regular lightbulb, but the fitting? Takes about ten minutes to remove it and double that to put it back.

Monday it was the shower. The water was running away very slowly, so in true Eco-warrior style I attacked it with the plunger, and then dribbled a little of that gentle Eco-liquid into it. Might as well have sung it a lullaby. Called the plumber to come and insert that rather sinister snake-shaped thing to clear the block. But the plumber never showed. Obviously there are more fascinating clients out there. So today I have caved in and poured eco-unfriendly chemicals into the shower.

Tuesday it was the landing light. The bulb had only been replaced about three weeks ago, so I was pretty miffed when the light went off again. But this time - it's not the bulb, the fitting has broken. I mean, how does that happen? It just sits there quietly doing nothing, no-one touches it, and suddenly there it is broken. Hmmm.

Wednesday the plug refused to come out of the bath. It's one of those fancy things where you turn a big round knob and the plug pops up. Except now it doesn't. Great. So now we have no shower and no bath either. Oh for the days of an old fashioned plug on a chain...

This morning my alarm didn't go off. I gradually came to, registering that it really was broad daylight, and probably already time we should have been up and out of here. But although there was no sound from the alarm clock, somewehre off in the distance there was a funny little intermittent pip sound. Out of bed. Pip. Throw on clothes. Pip. Toast. Tea. School bag. Pip. Oh, I get it. The smoke detector has run out of battery power. That will be another ten minutes up the ladder. In the dark, of course, because the electrician hasn't been to mend the light fitting yet...

I haven't even dared investigate why the alarm clock didn't work. There are demons in my house.

overcoming the fear

One of the things I have had to learn over the last few years is how NOT to be afraid any more. One of the things I've learned is that if you dare to stand up to a bully, he will back off. I spent a lot of my life trying desperately to please him. Staying thin. Staying quiet. Not saying stupid things in public (things he thought were stupid anyway) until I couldn't say anything in public without having an anxiety attack.

The last couple of years have been a journey out of fear. The look on his face when he's in a bullying mood kind of hits a switch in me. I have the panic, I wonder what's coming, what he's planning, what will happen next, and what I can DO to stop it happening. But every time it happens now, I get this resolve NOT to do something. If he wants to have a paddy, let him do it. He doesn't support me with a single penny. He only gives pocket money for my son. He doesn't support us, and he doesn't have power over us. So let him throw his paddy. I'm getting stronger all the time. I'm not going to cave in and give him whatever he wants. I got out of there because my son mattered Sooo much that I had to get it together and change our lives. Jack gets more confident with every month that passes. It took a kid to make me get more confident. We aren't going backwards now.

thirty three times three on 03/03

The rules are simple.
Answer each question in three words.
No more, no less.
01. Where is your mobile phone? by my side
02. Boyfriend? wish there was
03. Hair? straight, brown, shiny
04. Your mother? older than me
05. Your father? older than her
06. Your favorite item(s)? laptop, camera, teapot
07. Your dream last night? deep and dreamless
08. Your favorite drink? champagne, endless supply
09. Your dream man? is not here
10. The room you are in? cool white bedroom
11. Your fear? being abandoned again
12. What do you want to be in 10 years? healthy, with partner
13. Who did you hang out with last night? very nice date
14. What are you not? stupid, carefree, wealthy
15. Are you in love? i'm not sure
16. One of your wish list items? big long holiday
17. What time is it? saturday about noon
18. The last thing you did? answered mobile phone
19. What are you wearing? not very much
20. Your favorite book? Shakespeare's Sonnets (lovely)
21. The last thing you ate? Tea and Toast
22. Your life? Up and down
23. Your mood? pretty content today
24. Your friends? I appreciate them
25. What are you thinking about right now? (too much information... )
26. Your car? small, French, fun
27. What are you doing at this moment? thinking in threes
28. Your summer? not planned yet
29. Your relationship status? single for now
30. What is on your TV screen? don't have one
31. When is the last time you laughed? late last night
32. Last time you cried? Wednesday after supper
33. School? stayed too long

Secret Santa

I can not quite believe the generosity and kindness of some people. I wrote about how Finance Man (and his lovely wife) have been looking out for me a bit at work, making me smile and being generally nice. Three or four weeks back I saw them both in town doing Christmas shopping, and they said what had I got for Jack, and I showed them a couple of things. Also in the bag were a couple of girly shower gel things, which, I explained, were for my own stocking. When ex was around, I used to do stockings for all three of us, so for Jack's benefit I shall have to have a stocking full of things. "It's a good excuse to buy myself a couple of presents, eh?" I said, meaning to sound bright and jovial but probably sounding a bit pathetic.

Anyway today in the Internal Mail pile a little parcel arrived for me, from Finance Man's lovely wife, with a label attached:
"For your stocking. With love from Santa. No-one should have to buy their own presents."
Good job I was on my own in the office, because it made me cry a little.