Slugs, Spiders and Hen Food

Country life and its difference from that of the urban experience was emphasised, yet again this week, as I chatted and socialised with friends.  Fern, who has lived in the village all her life (as have many of the others) and who still sees her parents every day, reduced me to tears with the retelling of a day last year.  Her two year old daughter wandered in from the garden chewing merrily and determinedly.  Upon inspection, she was discovered to be clutching the remains of a slug.  Chuckling at my appalled expression, Gill chipped in with the tale of a local mum who had summoned her daughter after spotting two lines on her bottom lip.  Mouth prised open, said child was interrupted in her attempts to consume a large house spider.  The remains of the slug and the damp, but otherwise uninjured, spider were retrieved and discarded with minimum fuss.  Life went on.  It is definitely different from London!     

Filled with determination to embrace the “have a go at everything and expect almost certain success” attitude I admire so much in my local friends, I decided to purchase and take home a 25kg sack of food pellets for our hens.  (It’s a task I usually delegate to the men in my life!)  Using a trolley – no mean feat in itself – I wrestled the sack from the floor and conveyed it to the till of the animal feed store.  Focussed concentration and dogged determination got the sack from the trolley to the car, but no further.  After much contemplation – and a cuppa! – I realised that the answer to everything was our trusty wheelbarrow.  Surveying the horizon to check that none of my sensible and eminently respectable neighbours were in view, I dashed into the road with the wheelbarrow and positioned it next to the car door.  Muttering and grunting, I hoisted the sack from the vehicle into the wheelbarrow (of course, just as a neighbour appeared from nowhere) and after a smug jig of victory, I drove the sack to the back garden.  It wasn’t much in the eyes of the world, but to me it was a giant step in my resolution to live more positively in 2012 than I have ever lived before.  How are your resolutions going?

Happy New Year 2012

How was your Christmas holiday?  Have you finished the turkey yet?  As someone with enough turkey for one more salad/round of sandwiches, I have realised that my appetite for the bird has definitely outlasted my appetite for cards and decorations.  I have just received and opened 2 more cards and am left to ponder, yet again, why we put ourselves through the misery and guilt of writing, sending and receiving Christmas cards.  If we REALLY want to keep in touch with folk, shouldn’t we just do that?  Does the Christmas card and “catch all” letter, disguise our social neglect of those to whom we were once close?  It’s a thought, isn’t it?

Thank goodness that tomorrow is Bank Holiday Monday.  It will be the perfect time to take down the decorations and trees, and ensure that all family members are around to put them away neatly.  Fabulous!

So, 2012 is here whether we are ready for it, or not.  Did you make any resolutions?  Have you broken them as yet?  Don’t worry, you still have time to make some more!  Having looked back through my diary and reflected on 2011, I am ready for an exciting and positive 2012. 

I hope that, as I intend to do, you will spend 2012 living rather than existing; that you will be unashamedly yourself and not be bullied or cowed into fitting into someone else’s definition of who or what you should be.  Live and love well.  Keep the faith and grow in wisdom and understanding every day.  So that on January 1st, 2013 – come what may – you will know that you could not have tried harder.  Happy 2012 and take care.  

 

Christmas One & Christmas Too!

Experience shows that moving house provides opportunities to review, renew and eschew.  It uncovers all the clutter of one’s life and, it we can bear it, gives an opportunity for reassessment and restructuring of our interior life too.  Such has been the case for us, and the looming of Christmas further accentuates the good, the bad and the ugly.

The whole Christmas matter was recently brought into sharp focus by the revelations of a new friend.  She has a beautifully carved Continental crib scene and Playmobil version, which she prefers.  The Playmobil crib scene has played its significant role in the festive season, for many years.  During one Christmas, Baby Jesus was lost down the back of a radiator!  I know not for how long, but he was subsequently retrieved and returned to his rightful place.

As I approach the mountain of unwritten Christmas cards, with dread, and relish the Aldi advertisements, which exactly echo my Scrooge-like desire to merrily wrap and give pieces of tinsel.  (My wood-burning  stove fund is firmly in focus.)  A corner of my mind ponders whether Baby Jesus is lost down the back of a radiator or tucked securely in his crib.

Two hours after I join the crowds of harassed, irritable consumers and shops polluting the atmosphere with insincere, tinny muzak; I tell myself, “Never again,” again.  Retreating to my laptop and a cosy corner at home, I encounter the revelation that is e-Christmas shopping.  Oh, tidings of comfort and joy!

Simultaneously shopping and munching mince pies, I squash my tinsel-wrapping idea and browse at will.  Rapid success and then, my eyes are drawn to yet another something that rushes helter-skelter onto my “simply shouldn’t be done!” list.  The “light-up giant Santa carrying Baby Jesus”, no matter how or where one puts it, is vulgar.  It should only be purchased or displayed by guests who ate that wedding cake.  (They ate a life-sized replica of the bride.)  Google; you will be amazed – and probably traumatised!

As you celebrate – however you celebrate – give yourself time to appreciate both faces of Christmas.  May your real gift, this year, be incomparable peace and a moment to appreciate your immeasurable worth.

Happy Christmas.