Well I'm 43 now.
It's an odd number, 43 - not only because of it's lack of evenness, but also because of it's all round weirdness. For a start it's a prime number. Nothing goes into it but itself and one. It's like the Billy-No-Mates of numbers. There are no stories that go with being 43. When I was 42 I could console myself that at least my age was the answer to the Ultimate Question of Life, The Universe and Everything. But 43? It feels like it's an in-between number. A thinking about it but not quite sure yet number. A getting there number.
It really fits me.
I love being 43. I'm over the freaking-out-because-I'm-in-my-40s now. I'm suddenly aware that all the experiences I've had up to this point, good and bad, have really taught me a lot and made me a pretty nice person. I'm so glad to be past the wanting-babies age. Of course I am a mother and I love being one but I can see that as my children grow ever more independent I have to relinquish that role. I get to be Jane again. And actually that feels pretty darn good.
What I've discovered in the last wee while is that the best thing about 43 is that it is in no rush. 42 wanted all the answers because it was freaked out by how large a number it was. 42 had me convinced that I was slacking off, letting precious time slip away. 42 thought I was feckless. It was constantly looking ahead making old before my time. Not 43. 43 is calm. It knows that I'll get there. 43 wants me to enjoy where I am right now. It's not odd or lacking purpose. It's just totally chilled out with being 43.
The first day I was 43 I was woken up to the smell of pain-au-chocolat and tea. My wonderful husband and giggling children brought me gifts and cards. Texts came through from loved ones far away. I got messages all day from friends near and far. Later work colleagues showered me with flowers, wine and chocolate and thirty two gorgeous children sang Happy Birthday to me. My eldest child who has been very poorly for the last 3 weeks began to recover. I shared a wonderful meal with Hubby and my children. Then Hubby and I had a bottle of wine and watched When Harry Met Sally. We laughed big fat belly laughs at one of the best written (IMO) scripts ever. It was a really lovely birthday. I think it was the best one ever. Thank you all for that. It's a lovely thing to be wrapped in good wishes.
Today is my third day being 43 and I'm just as happy. You see 43 has given me a great gift - the gift of being in-between. The space to think about it because I'm not quite sure. The knowledge that I'm getting there. I love being 43.
Sunday, 8 November 2009
Tuesday, 3 November 2009
A Modern Day Knight's Tale
So in my classroom the theme for this term is all about Knights and Castles and all things Medieval. During the morning discussion time on our first day back the teacher asked the children to come up with anything they knew about the topic. We had many and varied suggestions about weapons and armour, turrets and princesses, moats and drawbridges. Then there was a loud fanfare and a six foot tall Black Knight walked slowly and purposefully into the room. He was in full regalia - helmet, chainmail, armour, sword - the whole deal. You could've heard a penny drop (silence like this never happens in my classroom). The Knight handed a parchment to the teacher upon which was written a message from the Queen of a nearby moated castle requesting that the children train as knights and go on a quest. It was all very exciting.
After the Black Knight took his leave, the children were put into groups and asked to discuss how they could train to be a knight. I overheard a boy nearby tell his group...
"Did you know that Mr T. is a Knight?"
"Is he?"
"Yeah - coz he wears all that golden armour?"
"Isn't that just necklaces and stuff?"
"NO! It's coz he's a Knight!" The boy was very forcefully making his point and just make sure that there was no doubt about it he added, "Aaand not only that - he's ackshully the Queen's bodyguard. For real."
I don't know about you but my immediate image was of a blacked-out van screeching up to the door of Buckingham Palace. The door flies open in front of the waiting monarch. When a voice from the front yells,
"What you waitin' for? Get in the van fool!"
That had me chuckling all day.
After the Black Knight took his leave, the children were put into groups and asked to discuss how they could train to be a knight. I overheard a boy nearby tell his group...
"Did you know that Mr T. is a Knight?"
"Is he?"
"Yeah - coz he wears all that golden armour?"
"Isn't that just necklaces and stuff?"
"NO! It's coz he's a Knight!" The boy was very forcefully making his point and just make sure that there was no doubt about it he added, "Aaand not only that - he's ackshully the Queen's bodyguard. For real."
I don't know about you but my immediate image was of a blacked-out van screeching up to the door of Buckingham Palace. The door flies open in front of the waiting monarch. When a voice from the front yells,
"What you waitin' for? Get in the van fool!"
That had me chuckling all day.
Tuesday, 27 October 2009
Saturday, 10 October 2009
Bad Blogger Checking In...
Hello everyone.
HELLO ... ELlo ..lo..o.
Echoy around here isn't it? Not surprising really. I mean why would anyone else bother to hang around these parts when I haven't even been here in a month myself??? Only I see I have had a few visitors and I am so mortified that I haven't been here to bid you welcome. I've had enough of these hiatuses (hiatii?) for my mates out there to realise that I've been preoccupied by the rest of life. I have a real problem balancing creativity and its pursuit and the more mundane realities of life. And of course I've just gone back to work.
It's good. Work. I fell like what I do is making a difference and I think that I've got a real leaning in that direction. For those who don't know I work in a primary school as a teaching assistant for pupils with special educational needs. And it's going well. I'm doing a few more hours this year. I do still have some time in the day for myself though which I should be using for writing but I'm getting used to the new routine and I've been kinda worn out. I've been finding this last week that things are starting to click into place so I think that I'm ready to incorporate writing back into the day.
There's a real tug of love happening with work and writing (and I include blogging in that). I feel that I'm going to have to commit to one or the other soon and if I commit to further training with education I fear that writing will fall away. So I'm going to give writing one last burst of enthusiasm. I'm going to do a little personal NaNo this year. I'm not signing up but I'm going to commit to trying to finish a first draft of one of my WIPs. So November will be the month I decide whether to carry on or change direction.
I didn't even realise I was going to say that. Yikes. But that feels right. Pick a road.
Yikes.
Anyhow sorry I haven't been visiting you lately. I'm going to try get back into it again. I just hope y'all remember me.
HELLO ... ELlo ..lo..o.
Echoy around here isn't it? Not surprising really. I mean why would anyone else bother to hang around these parts when I haven't even been here in a month myself??? Only I see I have had a few visitors and I am so mortified that I haven't been here to bid you welcome. I've had enough of these hiatuses (hiatii?) for my mates out there to realise that I've been preoccupied by the rest of life. I have a real problem balancing creativity and its pursuit and the more mundane realities of life. And of course I've just gone back to work.
It's good. Work. I fell like what I do is making a difference and I think that I've got a real leaning in that direction. For those who don't know I work in a primary school as a teaching assistant for pupils with special educational needs. And it's going well. I'm doing a few more hours this year. I do still have some time in the day for myself though which I should be using for writing but I'm getting used to the new routine and I've been kinda worn out. I've been finding this last week that things are starting to click into place so I think that I'm ready to incorporate writing back into the day.
There's a real tug of love happening with work and writing (and I include blogging in that). I feel that I'm going to have to commit to one or the other soon and if I commit to further training with education I fear that writing will fall away. So I'm going to give writing one last burst of enthusiasm. I'm going to do a little personal NaNo this year. I'm not signing up but I'm going to commit to trying to finish a first draft of one of my WIPs. So November will be the month I decide whether to carry on or change direction.
I didn't even realise I was going to say that. Yikes. But that feels right. Pick a road.
Yikes.
Anyhow sorry I haven't been visiting you lately. I'm going to try get back into it again. I just hope y'all remember me.
Wednesday, 9 September 2009
Wassup?
I'm struggling to find anything to post about.
School's back and in full swing again and I'm really enjoying it. In the last weeks of August I did quite a lot of writing and I haven't done much since. I've been giving myself the chance to settle back in at work but actually the truth is I'm not in the mood.
I KNOW!
Honestly one of these years I'll figure out the peaks and troughs of my writing moods and I'll work out a timetable that fits in with the peaks. I find that I'm dreaming a lot. Sometimes it's about my WIPs, sometimes it's about my future and sometimes it's just a little idea that I'm spinning around in my imagination. Did you ever 'take a line for a walk' in art class when you were a kid? Just take a black crayon on a blank sheet and twirl it around any which way to see what shows up. Then afterwards you colour in all the shapes it made to see if you can see a pattern? Well I'm doing that with little ideas, just to see what comes up. Right now it's a lot of scribbles but who knows perhaps there's a Picasso just around the corner.
I read somewhere this week that Mercury - the planet of communication - is currently retrograde. This means (I'm told) that plans get scuppered, things are a bit frustrating and anything to do with communication is fraught with frustrations. On the other hand it's a very good time (apparently) to go over things and check details so all those of you who are revising and editing have the stars on your side. There's always an upside if you look hard enough. Anyway I'm not letting my lack of output frustrate me. I'm just going to take my mind for a walk and see what shows up.
What are you guys up to?
School's back and in full swing again and I'm really enjoying it. In the last weeks of August I did quite a lot of writing and I haven't done much since. I've been giving myself the chance to settle back in at work but actually the truth is I'm not in the mood.
I KNOW!
Honestly one of these years I'll figure out the peaks and troughs of my writing moods and I'll work out a timetable that fits in with the peaks. I find that I'm dreaming a lot. Sometimes it's about my WIPs, sometimes it's about my future and sometimes it's just a little idea that I'm spinning around in my imagination. Did you ever 'take a line for a walk' in art class when you were a kid? Just take a black crayon on a blank sheet and twirl it around any which way to see what shows up. Then afterwards you colour in all the shapes it made to see if you can see a pattern? Well I'm doing that with little ideas, just to see what comes up. Right now it's a lot of scribbles but who knows perhaps there's a Picasso just around the corner.
I read somewhere this week that Mercury - the planet of communication - is currently retrograde. This means (I'm told) that plans get scuppered, things are a bit frustrating and anything to do with communication is fraught with frustrations. On the other hand it's a very good time (apparently) to go over things and check details so all those of you who are revising and editing have the stars on your side. There's always an upside if you look hard enough. Anyway I'm not letting my lack of output frustrate me. I'm just going to take my mind for a walk and see what shows up.
What are you guys up to?
Tuesday, 1 September 2009
September Starts.
Back to school tomorrow. Poo. Poo. Smelly old poo.
Today is the day for sorting it all out. There are those who have probably had their children's uniforms pressed, their spanking new shoes polished and their bookbags primed with new stationary since the second day of the holidays. But not me. I have learned that being too organised too early makes one complacent. Things get forgotten. More importantly - children grow. They shoot up during the summer holidays like little sprouting beanstalks. They may have some recessive giant genes.
So today it's shoes and bookbags.
I'm pretty sure they are OK for a day or two re uniforms. Maybe. They'll be fine.
They're not back to school tomorrow anyway. It's just me. I have to go in for a morning to go through all the stuff we're doing for the up-coming term. Also I get to meet the teacher I'll be working with next year who is new to the school. I must try to make a good impression.
Things to remember:
1. Be on time.
2. DIARY.
3. Pens.
4. His name.
5. What it is I'm employed to do.
6. Where I work.
Should be fine.
The boys go back on Thursday. Big Son goes into Key Stage 4 and is immediately plunged into all thing GCSE. Poor sod. And Small Son officially leaves the Early Years Foundation Stage and ploughs into Key Stage 1. He's officially a big boy now and even has his first wobbly tooth to prove it. Daughter goes back on Friday. She's just freaking out because she hasn't received her bus pass yet. I should probably be freaking out about that too but until I started to tell you about it I'd completely forgotten. (Must ring the transport people. Must write that in THE DIARY. Must remember to look at THE DIARY.)
Now for the first thing. Clean children who have become practically feral over the summer.
And oh yes - get out of bed.
Today is the day for sorting it all out. There are those who have probably had their children's uniforms pressed, their spanking new shoes polished and their bookbags primed with new stationary since the second day of the holidays. But not me. I have learned that being too organised too early makes one complacent. Things get forgotten. More importantly - children grow. They shoot up during the summer holidays like little sprouting beanstalks. They may have some recessive giant genes.
So today it's shoes and bookbags.
I'm pretty sure they are OK for a day or two re uniforms. Maybe. They'll be fine.
They're not back to school tomorrow anyway. It's just me. I have to go in for a morning to go through all the stuff we're doing for the up-coming term. Also I get to meet the teacher I'll be working with next year who is new to the school. I must try to make a good impression.
Things to remember:
1. Be on time.
2. DIARY.
3. Pens.
4. His name.
5. What it is I'm employed to do.
6. Where I work.
Should be fine.
The boys go back on Thursday. Big Son goes into Key Stage 4 and is immediately plunged into all thing GCSE. Poor sod. And Small Son officially leaves the Early Years Foundation Stage and ploughs into Key Stage 1. He's officially a big boy now and even has his first wobbly tooth to prove it. Daughter goes back on Friday. She's just freaking out because she hasn't received her bus pass yet. I should probably be freaking out about that too but until I started to tell you about it I'd completely forgotten. (Must ring the transport people. Must write that in THE DIARY. Must remember to look at THE DIARY.)
Now for the first thing. Clean children who have become practically feral over the summer.
And oh yes - get out of bed.
Sunday, 16 August 2009
Dearest Diary
I got back on Friday afternoon from a really, really lovely week away with the Fam. We have mostly good weather (I'm rather pink in odd places where I missed squirting with the factor 50) and just because I'm not a sun-worshipper the weather angels also blessed us with a bit of drizzle too. Perfect. It was tough going being away from t'internet for 7 whole days but as with any fasting (self-enforced or otherwise) I came back to it with a deeper respect and appreciation.
I also took the time to think about how I've let everything in my life slide along, taking me with it. I do truly believe that being in total control of one's life is an illusion. Life is like the sea, big, powerful and all too capable of raging storms. However it's foolish to assume that you have no control over what happens in it. I'm afraid that, in my natural inclination toward going with the flow, I have allowed even the babbliest of brooks and the stillest of streams to carry me in directions I really have no interest in going. I have become the opposite of organised - not disorgainised - anti-organised. I can see that I've always leant in this direction. I even label my slothfulness in a cute way, thinking of myself as 'energy efficient' rather than lazy. In my youth I was given to terrible bouts of stress and bonkersness and I learnt the hard way that swimming against the tide gets you nowhere but knackered. The trick, of course, is knowing when to stand the hell up and march to pool of water you want to be in and when to ride the tide. I'm sick of ending up on the same old stretch of beach with my manuscript no further along, my house a mess, I'm permanently perplexed as to why I have no money and constantly embarrassed that I'm late for everything (if I remember at all).
No more I tell you! - Well not as much anyway. I have taken my head out of the clouds and had a good look around. I have been doing everything in my life half-heartedly. I am a terrible housewife. Mostly because I hate the term and all that it implies I have railed against it by being rubbish at it. But actually I am a total home-bod at heart. Home and family mean everything to me but I don't give it any respect. Yet I know that when I have done it well, it has given me great satisfaction. My negativity toward it is tied up in not wanting to be seen as a housewife - it's a term that has no value. I loathe it. So I have decided to rename it. I am a Homemaking Goddess. Currently I'm a pretty crap one but now that I have rebranded it I am already feeling more enthusiastic.
It's been nearly two years since we moved from our old house. (We moved in Oct '07 and spent a few months in a rented house before finally moving in here in Jan '08). I miss my old home. I miss my old life and mostly I miss my old friends. So much so that I have never bothered to embrace the new place I have found myself in. Instead of becoming part of this community I have spent my time daydreaming about going back to my old one. Instead of making new friends that I can hang out with, I started to hang out almost entirely on the blogsphere. Now please, please don't get me wrong. I love, love, LOVE all my blogging buddies. I ADORE hanging out with you and I am grateful that I have each and everyone of you in my life but none of you live close enough to go to the movies or share the odd glass of wine and a natter. I miss that. I need tangible friends as well as my very excellent virtual ones. It's taken a while for me to really internalize it but this is my home now so I'm giving up longing to be elsewhere. I have a great house in a beautiful place. My children love their schools and my husband actually manages to get home from work in time to have dinner with the family. (His old commute was nearly 5 hours a day!). I am very lucky to have a part time job which gives me the freedom to be there for my children and gives me the time to do other things with my life if only I managed that time better. In short I am a very lucky girl. It's high time I embraced it and appreciated it. Part and parcel of this is that we have started making our mark on the house. As I write Hubby is painting all the woodwork in the hall - including the stairs themselves, having already relaid the parquet flooring and built a new understairs cupboard. My excitement knows no bounds. I may have moved into this house 19 months ago but it's finally becoming a home. This makes me very happy indeed.
The next thing that I have realised is that I can no longer rely on my memory. Time was that I had the sharpest memory going - practically photographic. It got me through the educational system with very little effort although it has to be said that when it comes to physics - memory alone doesn't get you very far.... (college - not so successful). In my career (B.C. - before children) I project managed jobs, orgainised crew, transport and equipment and at any one time could tell you exactly where anything or one was. But in recent years I have found myself totally forgetting stuff. Not just letting things slip my mind but actually losing memories. I have lost count of the number of times I've forgotten about events - both mine and the kids'. It's got to the stage that when the phone rings my first instinct is to panic and think "What the hell have I forgotten now?" I have a diary for work and a calendar on the kitchen wall that sometimes act as a reminder - but I forget to fill them in and when I do - I often forget to look at them. Essentially I haven't been taking my unreliable memory seriously. But no more I tell you! I have bought myself a kick-ass diary which will go with me EVERYWHERE. In it I will keep phone numbers, reminders, lists. It has a page to view and times all along the page.
I am going to keep a schedule. If it says on my diary that should be having a cup of tea - then by golly that's what I'll be doing. But mostly I just want to throw off this awful sense of being utterly unreliable. In my heart I'm wholly dependable - I have just come to realise that my memory - well, not so much.
As for the finances - Thrifty is the new affluent.
Then of course there's writing. I don't know whether I just had a crisis of confidence or was just plain overwhelmed by my out of control life but the biggest casualty has been my writing. I have two MSs on the go right now and both suffered from my apathy and general malaise. But no more I tell you! I am scheduling in 1 - 2 hours of writing every day. It's going in THE DIARY. During this time I will not be ferrying my children hither and yon. I will not be doing laundry or cleaning up. I will not be walking the Pooch. And most importantly I will not be hanging out on Facebook. Whether it's one hour or two - if it's in the schedule, I will only be writing. Even if it's rubbish.
I feel calmer already.
Diary says it's laundry day. I am a Homemaking Goddess. Laundry mountain - here I come.
I also took the time to think about how I've let everything in my life slide along, taking me with it. I do truly believe that being in total control of one's life is an illusion. Life is like the sea, big, powerful and all too capable of raging storms. However it's foolish to assume that you have no control over what happens in it. I'm afraid that, in my natural inclination toward going with the flow, I have allowed even the babbliest of brooks and the stillest of streams to carry me in directions I really have no interest in going. I have become the opposite of organised - not disorgainised - anti-organised. I can see that I've always leant in this direction. I even label my slothfulness in a cute way, thinking of myself as 'energy efficient' rather than lazy. In my youth I was given to terrible bouts of stress and bonkersness and I learnt the hard way that swimming against the tide gets you nowhere but knackered. The trick, of course, is knowing when to stand the hell up and march to pool of water you want to be in and when to ride the tide. I'm sick of ending up on the same old stretch of beach with my manuscript no further along, my house a mess, I'm permanently perplexed as to why I have no money and constantly embarrassed that I'm late for everything (if I remember at all).
No more I tell you! - Well not as much anyway. I have taken my head out of the clouds and had a good look around. I have been doing everything in my life half-heartedly. I am a terrible housewife. Mostly because I hate the term and all that it implies I have railed against it by being rubbish at it. But actually I am a total home-bod at heart. Home and family mean everything to me but I don't give it any respect. Yet I know that when I have done it well, it has given me great satisfaction. My negativity toward it is tied up in not wanting to be seen as a housewife - it's a term that has no value. I loathe it. So I have decided to rename it. I am a Homemaking Goddess. Currently I'm a pretty crap one but now that I have rebranded it I am already feeling more enthusiastic.
It's been nearly two years since we moved from our old house. (We moved in Oct '07 and spent a few months in a rented house before finally moving in here in Jan '08). I miss my old home. I miss my old life and mostly I miss my old friends. So much so that I have never bothered to embrace the new place I have found myself in. Instead of becoming part of this community I have spent my time daydreaming about going back to my old one. Instead of making new friends that I can hang out with, I started to hang out almost entirely on the blogsphere. Now please, please don't get me wrong. I love, love, LOVE all my blogging buddies. I ADORE hanging out with you and I am grateful that I have each and everyone of you in my life but none of you live close enough to go to the movies or share the odd glass of wine and a natter. I miss that. I need tangible friends as well as my very excellent virtual ones. It's taken a while for me to really internalize it but this is my home now so I'm giving up longing to be elsewhere. I have a great house in a beautiful place. My children love their schools and my husband actually manages to get home from work in time to have dinner with the family. (His old commute was nearly 5 hours a day!). I am very lucky to have a part time job which gives me the freedom to be there for my children and gives me the time to do other things with my life if only I managed that time better. In short I am a very lucky girl. It's high time I embraced it and appreciated it. Part and parcel of this is that we have started making our mark on the house. As I write Hubby is painting all the woodwork in the hall - including the stairs themselves, having already relaid the parquet flooring and built a new understairs cupboard. My excitement knows no bounds. I may have moved into this house 19 months ago but it's finally becoming a home. This makes me very happy indeed.
The next thing that I have realised is that I can no longer rely on my memory. Time was that I had the sharpest memory going - practically photographic. It got me through the educational system with very little effort although it has to be said that when it comes to physics - memory alone doesn't get you very far.... (college - not so successful). In my career (B.C. - before children) I project managed jobs, orgainised crew, transport and equipment and at any one time could tell you exactly where anything or one was. But in recent years I have found myself totally forgetting stuff. Not just letting things slip my mind but actually losing memories. I have lost count of the number of times I've forgotten about events - both mine and the kids'. It's got to the stage that when the phone rings my first instinct is to panic and think "What the hell have I forgotten now?" I have a diary for work and a calendar on the kitchen wall that sometimes act as a reminder - but I forget to fill them in and when I do - I often forget to look at them. Essentially I haven't been taking my unreliable memory seriously. But no more I tell you! I have bought myself a kick-ass diary which will go with me EVERYWHERE. In it I will keep phone numbers, reminders, lists. It has a page to view and times all along the page.
I am going to keep a schedule. If it says on my diary that should be having a cup of tea - then by golly that's what I'll be doing. But mostly I just want to throw off this awful sense of being utterly unreliable. In my heart I'm wholly dependable - I have just come to realise that my memory - well, not so much.
As for the finances - Thrifty is the new affluent.
Then of course there's writing. I don't know whether I just had a crisis of confidence or was just plain overwhelmed by my out of control life but the biggest casualty has been my writing. I have two MSs on the go right now and both suffered from my apathy and general malaise. But no more I tell you! I am scheduling in 1 - 2 hours of writing every day. It's going in THE DIARY. During this time I will not be ferrying my children hither and yon. I will not be doing laundry or cleaning up. I will not be walking the Pooch. And most importantly I will not be hanging out on Facebook. Whether it's one hour or two - if it's in the schedule, I will only be writing. Even if it's rubbish.
I feel calmer already.
Diary says it's laundry day. I am a Homemaking Goddess. Laundry mountain - here I come.
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