Whimsical Kitten

Recently I have been reflecting on my experience of blogging, particularly over the Christmas period, and have decided that it is now time for a change. Perhaps this blog of three years has run its course and on the whole it has been a positive experience. However, latterly I have felt the need to take up a new anonymous and unfettered on line persona and focus for my blogging. So it just remains to thank you for your visits and comments, to wish you a Happy New Year and bid you a fond farewell.

A few things that I have enjoyed about 2008.

Just a quick post to thank all my lovely friends and family for the very thoughtful and generous birthday cards and gifts received today.

From my lovely husband some much desired, frequently sought after and finally found greengage jam and the opportunity to give up work to pursue some personal goals, your financial support and unwavering belief in me means so much – thank you.

From my mum a beautiful black satin party dress, a beauty treatment and a bottle of Baileys – thank you.

From Kate & Adam some tasty green tomato chutney, Kate’s homemade ‘Ginshine’ alcoholic drink and a marvellous linen rooster tea towel – thank you.

From Peter and Claire a wonderful wildlife bonanza which included a book on encouraging garden wildlife, gardening gloves, a beautiful ceramic feeder for my bird table, a christmas fairy, a lovely art nouveau decorated folding bag and a bird roosting box just the right size for tiny little wrens to sleep in – thank you.

From Auntie Julie and Uncle Joe a large warm, soft, cream coloured fleece scarf - thank you.

From Grandma a butterfly trinket box for keeping special treasures in – thank you.

From Julia in Devon a lovely card and kind message in side, it means a lot to know that you are thinking of me – thank you. From my lovely Auntie Mary in Ireland a card and best wishes – thank you.

Ben asked me what I wanted to do for my birthday, I said something quiet, perhaps a walk and then a meal and a cold pint of beer in a dog friendly pub. So after a bit of Internet homework, we set off for a walk with the dog, binoculars and camera, destination Fingringhoe Wick Nature Reserve. A word of warning for anyone planning on sampling the designated dog walk, the visitor centre where you are required to get a permit was staffed by a patronising and officious individual who made us feel very unwelcome for having a dog in tow. Having paid a compulsory ‘donation’ we were then guided out and away from the nature reserve towards a rutted tractor path alongside some farmland populated by bird scarers going off at frequent intervals and scaring the wildlife away. At the bottom of this track you turn around and walk up the road back toward the visitor centre, frequently stepping onto the verge as cars leaving the reserve drive past.

Undeterred we went on to the nearby Whalebone Pub as advertised on the website ‘Dog Friendly Britain’. However it looked very much like it was under new management, we both looked at the immaculate cream decor, the lack of dogs and dog facilities and the well-heeled clientele and decided that it no longer welcomed muddy dogs and their equally muddy owners.

So we stopped off at Tesco, picked up some provisions needed to prepare a Sunday roast and some cold beer, and ended the day in front of a roaring fire at home instead - champion!

My beloved dog.

Poetic, poignant and filled with pathos, this film won the Camera d’Or in The Cannes Film Festival 2005. I can’t believe it has taken me this long to find it. Beautiful.

When I was a little girl my father told me that my great grandmother was a gypsy and used to travel around the country with the fairground telling peoples fortunes for a living from personal items such as a watch or a handkerchief. I have absolutely no evidence that any of this is true but the bohemian in me likes the idea of having gyptian heritage, so I have been reading a few books about these people and their way of life and found it fascinating. The books describe the lives of some of the original Romany families travelling around Britain from the turn of the century up to the 1960s, the two books by Betsy Whyte are autobiographical and the other is written by Rowena Farre who had travelled for a time with the Roma in the 1950’s.

Congratulations and thank you to the people of the USA, here’s hoping for a new era of international unity and cooperation.

On Monday just gone I had my farewell lunch with a group of close colleagues in the NHS organisation I have just left. It was a time of mixed emotions, I was on the one hand glad to no longer have the daily 50 mile commute in awful traffic, the constant bombardment of people at my desk and of e-mails each demanding often unobtainable information with ridiculous time frames and the feeling when I was finally about to leave (frequently long after 5pm) that I had achieved very little that had a direct impact on patient care. But on the other hand, seeing those warm friendly faces I have now left behind made me a little sad and I shall truly miss them. Those same people and many others in the organisation had very generously sent me off with some wonderful best wishes and presents too.

I will leave you with this poem that Margaret, a friend and colleague of many years and many re-organisations gave me, it says it all.

Sometimes by Sheenagh Pugh

Sometimes things don’t go, after all, from bad to worse. Some years, muscadel faces down frost; green thrives; the crops don’t fail. Sometimes a man aims high, and all goes well.

A people sometimes will step back from war, elect an honest man, decide they care enough, that they can’t leave some stranger poor. Some men become what they were born for. 

Sometimes our best intentions do not go amiss;sometimes we do as we meant to. The sun will sometimes melt a field of sorrow that seemed hard frozen; may it happen for you.