Hugs for free....

I first came across 'Free Hugs' at Camp Bestival this summer, two delightful young girls stood on the main thoroughfare with a sign that said 'Free Hugs'. I watched from the side as they merrily dispensed hugs to anyone that wanted one and some that clearly did not. But  few could resist and I stood smiling, thinking it was one of those quirky festival things, such as everyone calling for 'Alan and Steve' on the way back to their tents. But no, it seems that 'Free Hugs' are a global phenomena. Started by an Australian, Juan Mann, it is a story of extremes, not always happy but in the end I feel that people power has overcome adversity and 'Free Hugs' are here to stay. Hugging is a delightful pastime, I have had, for many years, a printout on the noticeboard in my kitchen, predating Mr Mann by some time, I don't know where it came from but I have read it often:-

A HUG

feels good

dispels loneliness

overcomes fears

builds self esteem

slows down ageing, huggers stay younger longer

eases tension

fights insomnia

keeps arms and shoulder muscles in condition

is democratic, anyone is eligible for a hug

is portable

affirms physical being

is energy efficient, saves heat

makes impossible days possible

makes happy days happier

makes you feel good all day

I am lucky enough to work in a huggy environment, and have children that when home hug me daily. Nothing is nicer than being held close for a very long time. I might add to the above that it also soothes the soul...There is no excuse, hug someone now, go on they are free!

Welcome to the world......

 

I had a visitor to my house yesterday, a little bundle of beauty with the biggest eyes and a smile that could melt the heart of the hardest man... not many weeks on this earth but somehow I feel you have been here before.... Looking into the tiny smiling face, trying so hard to communicate with me, rosebud lips mimicking mine, the beginnings of speech bubbling out. Fists still curled, legs tucked up, wanting mum but once sated happy for cuddles, allowing me to inhale the heady newborn scent  and for you  to look around as if to say...ah yes I see....So welcome to the world little Lola, may your life be full of joy and love and may I stand nearby and watch now and then and remember the day you visited my house for the very first time....

A Newborn Girl at Passover
by Nan Cohen
Consider one apricot in a basket of them. It is very much like all the other apricots-- an individual already, skin and seed. Now think of this day. One you will probably forget. The next breath you take, a long drink of air. Holiday or not, it doesn't matter. A child is born and doesn't know what day it is. The particular joy in my heart she cannot imagine. The taste of apricots is in store for her

Chicken Noodle Soup.....

 

I walked with a friend this morning and watched many geese fly south across the sky, there is a scent of Autumn in the air and days for making soup will soon be here!

I have made Chicken Noodle Soup for as long as I can remember, Jewish Penicillin it is called, and without doubt in this house it is a cure all! The best soup is made from a raw chicken carcass, some meat still attached, then carrots, onions, celery, peppercorns and salt. I add Italian herbs and sometimes Marigold stock powder. Cover the lot with water and bring to the boil and simmer for a good long time. I then let it sit in the pan allowing the flavours to infuse. Pick the bones of all meat and strain the stock. This can now be used for risotto or soup. If using for soup chop up the carrots etc add to stock, with the chicken. Simmer and reduce, then taste, taste, taste and adjust seasoning until it is just how you like it. It should only taste of chicken, no wateriness allowed! In this house the pasta of choice is Stellette, tiny stars about half a centimetre across, I find it best to cook the pasta separately then add to the soup. I serve it with a good grating of Parmesan and a grinding of pepper, if liked. When my children are under the weather, or recovering from illness, homesick and in need of love it is Chicken Noodle Soup that they crave. If one is away and gets to hear of a pot that has been made then texts and calls are ensue telling me they wish they were home and making me promise to make some when they next are. Oh, and it is the best ever hangover cure! This is the first time I have ever written down the recipe it is one of many just stashed in my head, but anyone can try and if you make it with love it will, most certainly, be the most delicious soup ever tasted.
“And Tom brought him chicken soup until he wanted to kill him. The lore has not died out of the world, and you will still find people who believe that soup will cure any hurt or illness and is no bad thing to have for the funeral either.”
John Steinbeck, ‘East of Eden’

GREAT Britain

 

I went walking early this morning with a friend and her dog, we talked at length about the opening ceremony, and each and every person we met also spoke of the spectacle that was the London Olympics 2012 extravaganza.

I must say I have not been whipped up by Olympic fever, I did not go and see the torch or take much notice of where it was, maybe it is because I have no allegiance to any particular sport or maybe it is because my children are the wrong age, to be honest it has all passed me by. But last night I was captivated, Danny Boyle did a wondrous job! Before us was what make the United Kingdom great. It was moving, funny, tongue in cheek, beautiful, dramatic and wondrous, in fact it grasped the essence of this fair land and showed the world just what we have achieved.  It was my daughter's Graduation this week, the speech the chancellor gave was inspiring, she told them to go out and be brave, try hard, take risks, be passionate and care for those less fortunate than themselves and above all know how special they are and know that always, always they are loved! This is the same message that came out of last night's ceremony, without bravery, risk taking, compassion and love the country we take for granted would not exist. So next time we do the British thing and run this little isle of ours down remember last night.   Recall how we have embraced with love people from all corners of the world when they were in danger, that our health service is still amazing and cares for us all, how innovative we are, how creative and generally just how fantastic we all are! Plus we have a Queen with a flipping great sense of humour! I will endeavour to visit London over the next few weeks in the hope that I might experience the energy that came out of my television set last night and savour the greatness that is still Britain!

Coming home.....well for a short time....

Leaving Uni is such hard work......

Three years of University, three years, at the beginning stretched out at length seeming such a long time, indeed the first three months felt much like three years. And now here we are at the end of that time and looking back, those years have truly gone by in the blink of an eye. The girl that left home on that early autumn day is now a young woman, about to take the first steps on the path of her adult life. I worried I would lose her, but I need not have feared, for she still calls me first when she is happy, and when she is sad, or when something is funny to her and she knows only I will 'get it'.  I love that she has time to talk to her little sister about things that I can't speak of. I love that she gets excited when her brother arrives by train to spend the weekend with her. Yesterday was our last road trip from Cornwall home, an adventure not to be forgotten. Arriving to find not much done, I set to cleaning with her and the last remaining flat mate until one am. Then off across Cornwall, a stop for food, laughter, a stop for sleep and finally home...for a short while anyway.  My first born and my first to go out in the big wide world, not long ago she told me how scared she was because now she has to grow up. I would say don't rush my love, take time to savour moments, experience much, look around a great deal, for there is time enough for settling down and 21 is certainly not that time.  So, graduation soon, there will be many tears and goodbyes, some friends will be lost, some will be there forever. But life is about to start my beautiful, vivacious, tenacious girl. Home will always be where I am, and there will always be a sofa and blanket so you might sleep, as you did today, for seven hours, in safety surrounded by love. But I set you free to follow your path and hope that you know how proud I am of you, and that you will still find time to call, when you are happy, or sad, or just have something funny to tell me....

Simple Pleasures

Many words have been written over the past weeks commenting on how much our country has changed during the sixty years  the Queen has reigned.  Much has changed, at a speed greater than any preceding decades. But one thing that has remained a constant over all these years is the Fete. Be it run by schools, villages or churches the Fete is  much the same today as it was 100 years ago. Yesterday was our Church Fete, I happily took a friends two children, as she was busy with the cricket teas. Well, there was music in the church, the WI, Splat the Rat, Hook a Duck, Tombola, Pimms, teas and ices. The triumph of the afternoon, however, was the Teddy Parachute Jump from the Church tower. This was to commemorate the D-Day escapade of paratrooper, John Steele, who got caught on the tower of the church of St Mere Eglise (our twin village in France). All through the afternoon families arrived with teddies and home made parachutes. At three thirty the bears were hoisted up in a basket to the top of the tower where the vicar and helper threw them over the edge one by one. The tensions and excitement was palpable,  cheers, oohs and aahs rang out amongst the gravestones as the various stuffed creatures plummeted at great speed or gracefully descended gliding on the breeze. The total absorption on the faces of all that stood by that ancient tower was wonderful, it gladdened my heart to see that children can still be thrilled by the simplest of things, and, despite being bombarded with stimulants from the cradle,  be captivated by a teddy, a tower, a handkerchief and a game vicar. The British may continue traditions quietly but long may they remain, and I pray, that in another sixty years, the little boy holding his grandad's hand yesterday afternoon and wriggling with excitement  will, in turn, be holding the hand of his grandson and both will look up and wait for a vicar and a  teddy with a parachute made from a cotton handkerchief......

Sister Friends

 

 I, like many people, have not lived where I was born for most of my adult life. My mum and her sister live less than half a mile from the house where they entered the world, their grandparents and parents are  buried in the town's cemetery; this is not how my generation have lived. I am not unusual, in fact I don't have one close friend who lives where she was born. We have not had the luxury of extended families to help, we have all had to create that network from scratch. It is not easy but once achieved this network of women is as much, indeed more, than any family could ever be.  Maia Angelou has a name for such women, she calls them her 'sister friends'. I am lucky enough to have several such women in my life and  I love them dearly. I can be myself with them and know they never judge, or are shocked, but always loyal and supporting. They will hug me when I haven't showered for days, make me a cup of tea in my own kitchen and not mind if they have to pick up a pile of washing before they can sit down, or text me from America, just to make sure I am fine. Nobody makes me laugh more that one such friend, nobody makes me feel more cherished than another. I have cried, had drunken nights, been outrageous and given love and support to them all, it is no chore, it is as easy as breathing.  I never forget , at the time of my very difficult separation, after a incomprehensible and tearful phone call the arrival, within minutes, of a dear friend, bottle of whisky in hand...just there at my time of need.  With this love comes anguish, fear when illness lurks, worries at times of marital difficulties, funerals of parents to attend, but also celebrations and joys. A test of a true friend, I was once told, it is the 3am breakdown. Who could you call that would come and rescue you, and would laugh with you and make it all ok? I know, do you?  We have partners, spouses, and family, children and acquaintances, but Sister Friends are the rocks we are tied to that stop us being washed away with the tide.  I am, at the moment going through a sad and difficult time and would like to say a heartfelt 'thank you' to my special 'sister friends'. I couldn't live without you, my life would be all the poorer for the loss of you. I am taking from the friendship cup now but promise I will give back when I am able. You know who you are, a thank you can never be enough.

-I do not believe that the accident of birth makes people sisters and brothers. It makes them siblings. Gives them mutuality of parentage. Sisterhood and brotherhood are conditions people have to work at. It's a serious matter. You compromise, you give, you take, you stand firm, and you're relentless...And it is an investment. Sisterhood means if you happen to be in Burma and I happen to be in San Diego and I'm married to someone who is very jealous and you're married to somebody who is very possessive, if you call me in the middle of the night, I have to come.”

Maya Angelou