Bloggernacle Barmy
Have you discovered the 'Bloggernacle?'
I have just discovered that my fascination with it is shared: http://www.salon.com/2011/01/15/feminist_obsessed_with_mormon_blogs/
Who'd have thunk it?!
It started inncoently enough with a link to the blog of the subject of an article in one of the Sunday supplements.
Once I had worked my way through that particular blog, in which the writer drooled over her 'cute' husband and posted daily pictures of her many shiny children and I had been instructed how to knit my own car, admired the daily posted pics of 'yummy' home made soup/cake/zucchini with saffron infused home made cheese pie, and effectively managed to dodge the adoring references to the (mostly, I am sorry to report, terrifyingly trite), 'lessons' taught by legions of white middle-aged men who seem to rule the roost in Mormon-Land, I wondered how those who don't 'fit' fitted into this picture.
Amongst the literally thousands of pictures (honestly, I couldn't figure out how she found so much time to bake and breed, when she was at all times weilding a rose tinted camera), there were no scruffy uncles, no single elderly cousins with frizzy hair, no childless friends, disabled seniors, bored looking teenagers and absolutely NO ONE who was anything other than shiny white, so I went searching, and what I found amonst the dozens of other shiny blogs were a few where the writer was trying so hard to 'fit' that it was heart-breaking. Please believe me here when I say with all sincerity that I am not knocking the LDS beliefs and I bow my knee to any society in which kindness, goodness and decency is the expected norm - but why encourage blogging as a method of prothleytising (sp?!) when the vast, vast majority of the readers could only be further alienated by their own obvious lack of 'fit?'
So.... why do I continue to be fascinated by the Bloggernacle? (you may well ask if you've followed me this far!) because - it reminds me every day to be grateful to live in a liberal country, amongst liberal people, where diversity and difference is the norm - and because I really ought to learn to knit my own car and where better to find out?
Happy birthday Angel!
Beautiful wasn't she? It's her birthday on Saturday, she would have been 49, although she'd have still looked 35 and her joyful spirit never did get much further than 17, even though her body made it to 47. We should be sitting on bar stools laughing our heads off whilst drinking Bloody Marys after stuffing ourselves with Calamari - but this year, she'll be hangin' out with Ali and John, Pete, Margaret, Richard and the rest of our mates in Heaven. If there's any justice, St. Peter will be mixing cocktails and they will be smiling down on the tear stained faces of those of us who mourn them.
Grief's a bugger. It's been 18 months since we lost her and 15 months since our dear friend Ali went (at 44 for crying out loud!) to join her. We're making a fist of re-grouping, of making new memories, of moving forward. There have been new babies & grand-babies, new jobs, travels, parties (a couple of truly memorable ones that she would have LOVED) but still, on my birthday a couple of months ago, the special poignancy which comes from us all being together and having a great time, serves to magnify the enormous losses and those of us closest to them both were overwhelmed by the memories and sobbed - not pretty sobbing either - snot ridden red eyed sobbing - and in public!
As the memories of those last terrible months as her body disintegrated and the dreadful pain made her withdraw from us all, are replaced by the myriad of happy memories, there are days, weeks sometimes, when I smile when I think about her. When I can see a red car without looking to see if she's driving it, or hear certain songs without breaking, when I see a pigeon and can hear her saying 'flying rats Hel!' but I am never, ever, going to stop missing her. In a way I embrace that as testament to the fact that I truly loved her. What I wouldn't give to be re-creating the picture above. I'm hugging her so hard I look like I'm strangling her! - but as it is, all I can do is this - and wish her as happy a birthday wherever she is, as those we shared when she was still here on Earth.
Thanks for listening. x
Want to know why I haven't posted in so long? because I am SO technologically disabled that I couldn't find my blog. DOH!
Anyway...how ARE you?
Life has changed beyond recognition for me. Steve stepped out of the Army after 33 years and is now extraordinarily happy as the CEO of a charity which lifts landmines and campaigns for the rights of those affected by armed violence. Proud of him? Oh yeah!
And... we FINALLY own our own house. Palatial it aint - but it's comfortable, modern, it over-looks woodland (you know me by now, trees are necessary to my happiness!) - and it has the wonderful advantage of being in civilian territory which brings with it the anonimity I so craved when living on Army patches.
Now I've found you again I'll be back to post some more!
Anyway...how ARE you?
Life has changed beyond recognition for me. Steve stepped out of the Army after 33 years and is now extraordinarily happy as the CEO of a charity which lifts landmines and campaigns for the rights of those affected by armed violence. Proud of him? Oh yeah!
And... we FINALLY own our own house. Palatial it aint - but it's comfortable, modern, it over-looks woodland (you know me by now, trees are necessary to my happiness!) - and it has the wonderful advantage of being in civilian territory which brings with it the anonimity I so craved when living on Army patches.
Now I've found you again I'll be back to post some more!
Sorry!
It has been an age since I wandered in here. There has been a lot to occupy me. My best friend died. I thought I was ready and it transpired that I wasn't. I miss her like I'd miss my right arm. I went through a period of feeling completely alone in the World which upset my darling boy. He loved her too but he never really got how profoundly and deeply I needed her. Life marches relentlessly on for those left reeling behind. Wills and Kate got married. We celebrated with a street party which was utterly fab. I have my head around my job and am growing to really like it. Steve is contemplating what he is going to do in 14 months when he waves goodbye to the Army after 34 years - I never consider much beyond tomorrow.
Thank God for Dog
I wish I had known, earlier in my life, how fab dogs are. Everyone bangs on about how much work they are and what a 'tie' but there is a conspiracy of silence - or there was amongst my family - about how much love and happiness is attached to the tie and the work. We've currently got three. Our own giant Hugo and adorable Hebe and we're dog-sitting a baby spaniel who is an absolute sweetheart. I don't think I'm very good with people. I'm not one of these mad people who loves animals and completely eschews humans but I am really, really bad at superficial relationships. I profoundly love a handful of people, and although I would and do, go out of my way for others, I don't sustain most budding, potential friendships. My family and my friend who is dying have always been enough. Is it a character flaw I wonder? When I get home from work I don't want to spend what little spare time I have talking on the phone other than with those I really love. There are those, very few relationships that are easy and natural and the rest are just an exhausting round of maintenance.
I went to an event a few weeks ago, where the person who had invited me introduced me as her 'best friend'. She's a neighbour. A neighbour I like. Another Army wife whose presence next door is warm and comforting but our hearts have no connection. We don't care about the same things. We don't feel the same way about pretty much everything. For a start she is terrifyingly right wing!!! How odd then, that someone with whom she has such limited connection gets elevated to the position of 'best friend'. Other than the aforementioned profoundly loved crew, most humans confuse, irritate or scare me, so... I wish I had known, long ago, how fab dogs are.
I went to an event a few weeks ago, where the person who had invited me introduced me as her 'best friend'. She's a neighbour. A neighbour I like. Another Army wife whose presence next door is warm and comforting but our hearts have no connection. We don't care about the same things. We don't feel the same way about pretty much everything. For a start she is terrifyingly right wing!!! How odd then, that someone with whom she has such limited connection gets elevated to the position of 'best friend'. Other than the aforementioned profoundly loved crew, most humans confuse, irritate or scare me, so... I wish I had known, long ago, how fab dogs are.
I have just been reading a blog. Someone left a comment here and curiosity drove me to her own blog. When I say I have been reading it, I have actually been devouring it. I will never have a child of my own. There I have said it, and the sky hasn't fallen in. For more than twenty years it haunted me and drove me. I felt...less. I am....less... but I have come to terms with the less -ness (yes, I know it's not a word) and discovered that less, can indeed be pretty good. There is a point to a childless woman that for years I could not see. There is a huge well of love for others to tap in to. In my case, a lonely, widowed Mother-in-law has benefitted. Every stray cat and dog within a 20 mile radius has benefitted. My husband has a whole lot more of me than he might have had. I still would it were otherwise but I am not a pointless person when for years that is how I defined myself...silently.
Well, things have been up and down and up...such is life.
Phase one of returning to work was a disaster. Falling into the hands of a Boss who treated his workers like slaves was misery. I braved it out for a while and then beat a retreat, thankfully into the waiting arms of the most wonderful publishing company, where I am loving every minute whilst producing academic journals, the contents of which I don't understand. Being happy at work is a liberating experience and it should be against the law to be otherwise.
Hebe and Hugo are cared for in my absence by the World's best dog-sitter. No you can't have her name, she's ours!
Steve has spent plenty of time in Blighty. Whilst with a career each there isn't a great deal of time for much else, it is so lovely to be able to see his beautiful face every day.
My Grandfather died. He was 95 and entitled to shuffle off but he still left a hole in a lot of lives. His funeral was held in a charming old Church in Devon. There was rousing singing of 'Jerusalem' and not a dry eye when The Dambusters March was played (he was RAF 617 sqn.). I hope he's living it up in Heaven with Nanny.
The big 'down' is that my best friend is drawing closer to the end of her life. She has been ill for nearly two and a half years and is getting more and more frail. She has no Mother, Her father is quite understandably in denial about the imminent loss of his only child,nor siblings, so I am the listening ear, and my God it's hard. I am not the easiest person to know. I am secretive, judgemental, proud -and I don't give my feelings away easily, but she 'gets' me. She has always 'got' me. She is joyful, beautiful, kind and utterly, utterly good. It seems such a waste to rip her away from us when she has only spent 46 years on the planet. I have a devotedly happy marriage and a close family but she is the one person who I have been able to say things I thought no one else would bear to hear. From drunken days on bar stools, to wild dancing, to heated debate, every minute with her has been a joy. Much of my adult life has been spent knowing that whatever befell me she would be there. The rest of it will be without her. That fucking sucks.
Phase one of returning to work was a disaster. Falling into the hands of a Boss who treated his workers like slaves was misery. I braved it out for a while and then beat a retreat, thankfully into the waiting arms of the most wonderful publishing company, where I am loving every minute whilst producing academic journals, the contents of which I don't understand. Being happy at work is a liberating experience and it should be against the law to be otherwise.
Hebe and Hugo are cared for in my absence by the World's best dog-sitter. No you can't have her name, she's ours!
Steve has spent plenty of time in Blighty. Whilst with a career each there isn't a great deal of time for much else, it is so lovely to be able to see his beautiful face every day.
My Grandfather died. He was 95 and entitled to shuffle off but he still left a hole in a lot of lives. His funeral was held in a charming old Church in Devon. There was rousing singing of 'Jerusalem' and not a dry eye when The Dambusters March was played (he was RAF 617 sqn.). I hope he's living it up in Heaven with Nanny.
The big 'down' is that my best friend is drawing closer to the end of her life. She has been ill for nearly two and a half years and is getting more and more frail. She has no Mother, Her father is quite understandably in denial about the imminent loss of his only child,nor siblings, so I am the listening ear, and my God it's hard. I am not the easiest person to know. I am secretive, judgemental, proud -and I don't give my feelings away easily, but she 'gets' me. She has always 'got' me. She is joyful, beautiful, kind and utterly, utterly good. It seems such a waste to rip her away from us when she has only spent 46 years on the planet. I have a devotedly happy marriage and a close family but she is the one person who I have been able to say things I thought no one else would bear to hear. From drunken days on bar stools, to wild dancing, to heated debate, every minute with her has been a joy. Much of my adult life has been spent knowing that whatever befell me she would be there. The rest of it will be without her. That fucking sucks.
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