Rhododendron

Rhododendron, one of my all time favourite words and flowers.

'Rhododendrons are grown for their spectacular flowers, usually borne in spring. Some also have young leaves and stems covered in a striking dense woolly covering (indumentum) and some - the deciduous rhododendrons or azaleas - have good autumn colour.'   RHS Gardening website.

Rhododendron.  I was probably 5 or 6 years old, in Primary 2 at school and my teacher had called me out to the front of the class to show the rest of the children what I had just painted.  My painting was of the hedge we had at the back of our garden.  I had painted shiny green leaves, shaped like big ovals and had then added lovely splodges of purple and white for the flowers.  Each flower was arranged next to five others, in a circle pattern.  The paint smelled lovely and the paper I had used was going soft and wrinkly where I had used too much paint or where my watercolour had too much water.  The paints were large solid circles of primary colours in a plastic pallet and I remember being very happy when the colours (red/blue and some white) had mixed to make the purple I wanted.   

My teachers Mrs Hein, wrote a large word on the blackboard.  Rhododendron, it was a very long word and she wondered if any of us could learn to spell it.  This was the name of the plant/hedge I had painted, although Mrs Hein said you could also get white and pink flowers on those plants, I didn't know about that.  The flowers in my back garden were purple.

Rhododendron - it is a nice word to say as well as to spell out.

My Rhododendron painting got pinned on the wall.  It was the first painting I had had pinned up that school year, I had had a crayon drawing of trees hung up the year before but that was a different class and this time my painting was much bigger.  Those things matter when you are probably 5 or 6 years old. 

I went home and told my Mum all about the painting and the name of the flowers.  Mum helped me practice my spelling of Rhododendron, I wanted to be able to spell it properly as well.

My exact recollection of what happened next is a bit hazy but I think we had a student teacher or some other person, a 'lady', come into the classroom.  This 'lady' wanted to watch our class and then talk to our teacher and perhaps she would ask some of us about what work we were doing.  Then if she wanted to, she could take you into the headmistresses office (with your teacher there too) and she had a tape recorder where she could record you answering these questions.  If you got asked to go in, you would be able to hear what you sounded like on a tape player, it seemed very exciting.  I was very excited and happy about this.  Perhaps if I got chosen I could hear what I would sound like on tape.  My Dad had a Phillips reel-to-reel tape player that he used to play music on at the time.

I can't remember whether this 'lady' was in our classroom for a day, a week or a month.  This was 45 years ago after all.  Anyway, I did get chosen to go and have a chat with the lady and her tape recorder.

Mrs Hein took me into Miss Adair's (the Headmistress) office and sat next to me as I was asked questions.  What did I like about school, what were we working on, what was a I good at?  Well, I liked my friend Fiona, I liked my teacher and I liked painting Rhododendrons.  I could even spell it, Rhododendron and I did spell it correctly too.  Well, that seemed to make everyone very happy, especially me, and wasn't I lucky that I had a back garden with Rhododendrons growing in it she said?

I must have replied, well yes I was very lucky, because I was actually very special.  The reason I was special was because my Mummy and Daddy couldn't have children of their own and that God gave them me to be their child instead.  I did believe in God then, my Mum was very religious and I was taken to church and Sunday School right the way through my childhood.  The 'lady' finished recording me and then let me listen to my answers back, I sounded funny and I thought I had done well telling them about my Rhododendrons.   I was sent back to my class while Mrs Hein and the Lady talked.

That was when everything changed for me.

I was sent home with a letter for my Mum.  

My Mum had to go to school to have a talk with Miss Adair.

My Mum came home from school and then told me that what I had said was wrong and that I had said something bad.  I shouldn't have said I was special, even though that is what I had always been told about myself and my little brother,  from then on I wasn't to tell other people that I thought I was special or lucky or adopted.  I had to keep it a secret and not upset people.  I think my Mum got quite upset about it.  I remember thinking that she seemed sad about it.  I didn't like that I had made her sad, it made me sad too.

I can't remember what happened to my Rhododendron painting.

And that is the moment I think, when I remember back to my childhood,  when the 'fear' started.  The fear that I have lived with for most of my life but that now as an adult I try not to.  Naive that I was, I told the girl that I sat next to in class what had happened and about how I wasn't to tell people I was special because I was adopted.  That girl told me that she knew what being adopted meant, it meant that my 'real' parents didn't want me so they gave me away.  She also told every one else in my class too. 

I spent most of my childhood trying to be very good, but having nightmares about being given away again.  Anxious, timid, shy, daydreamer and quiet - all words from Primary school reports about me.   It took me until my teens and twenties to realise that I didn't have to be that scared person, although 'she' appears at times, I do think that I'm doing okay.  My fear of abandoment stays with me, it is much smaller now but it is still there. 

I will always love and grow Rhododendrons in my garden.  They are such happy flowers with beautiful colours and scent, although ours at home was not scented.

I may even try to paint them again.  I've signed up for an folio building art course in the spring, perhaps I'll get the shade of purple just right again.  

The Rhododendron hedge still grows in the back garden in the house where I grew up, my Dad still lives there, my Mum passed away 7 years ago.  

As an adult I think I have finally accepted that I will always carry that 'fear' and that primal wound that all adopted people have.  Even after searching and finding both my birth parents, one of whom sadly I can't have a relationship with and the other who is a very important part of my life, I do feel as if I am still scarred.  Actually perhaps scarred is not the right word?  Not scarred as scars heal, but that there is a covering or scab on that wound which shouldn't be poked or picked at too much.  And that is just the way things are, and as with everything in life that I cannot change, there has to be my acceptance of it.

And when Spring arrives this year in a few months, I will look out for the purple flowers of the Rhododendron blooming to remind me of my happy life, which I hope I live as well as I can.  Not special in any way but happy.  

And for that I am very grateful. 

Ali

Goldfinch

Thursday 5th January has been so busy I haven't had time to think about anything, never mind blogging or writing but I have managed to get a photo of the most recent visitors to my bird feeders outside our kitchen window.

Goldfinch - Muir of Fowlis 

I'm starting an art course in April, so I'm starting to collect ideas about what I can draw, sketch, paint etc.  Isn't this chap beautiful, I love having birds in the garden.

Dry January

I'm doing 'Dry January' this year.  I didn't last year and my reasoning was that as my birthday is in January and that it was a BIG one in 2016 (50!) that I wanted to be able to celebrate during that month.

I had friends that did 'do' it last year.  A whole month without alcohol?  Hmmmm, my life's philosophy (based only on my own experience) is that life is too short not to live every day trying to enjoy it.   I enjoy having drink to celebrate and relax so why on earth would I want to have no alcohol for a whole month?

However, this year I feel that I am actually going to participate in Dry January for a very good reason, and that reason is ME!  I have gone for almost 3 years in my adulthood without drinking in the past due to 3 pregnancies and 3 babies to nurse so I know that I can do it, but on those occasions I was abstaining for the health of my babies (which of course is a very good reason).  But this time I am not drinking alcohol for the whole month for my health.

And here are the benefits - a chance to detox, better sleep, more energy and hopefully some weight will magically drop off too!  A chance to give my body the love and care it deserves?  After all I cook and eat healthy food, we grow as much organic fruit and veg as we can (see my Garden Cuppa blog!), I keep my own chickens for organic eggs, I don't use yucky chemicals on my body or in my house (as much as I can help it), I choose cruelty free products and if I can't afford or source organic meat we don't eat it and stick to a mostly veggie/fish diet.

All good, but then I undo a lot of that when I drink alcohol, and yes we always try to not drink mid-week (ahem!), always 2 nights without alcohol, however, come Wednesday night I'm thinking it's almost the weekend and a bottle of red gets opened to be drunk with dinner, and then of course its all downhill, from finishing that bottle (or another one!) on the Thursday, Fizz Friday, Saturday nights Rioja and finally my Sunday night G&Ts!

So, for all the health benefits that I know happen when you skip alcohol for a few nights a week, now I am skipping it for a whole month.  And those friends that did Dry January last year?  I really noticed a difference in them, and when I have spoken to them they said they did feel much better, well, as an observer I can honestly say that they looked better too!  Now whilst I realise that aged 50 (almost 51) nothing is going to make me look like I'm 5 or even 10 years younger, perhaps getting better sleep and more energy will help me feel it.

Looking forwards to a healthy and happy year ahead, with less trips to the bottle bank as a bonus too!

Cheers

Ali
x

Here is a link to what I'll mostly be drinking this month instead!

http://www.telegraph.co.uk/food-and-drink/healthy-eating/best-non-alcoholic-drinks-dry-january/

Write

At the end of this festive season and starting of the New Year I find myself drawn to what I would like to achieve for myself in the coming year.

A dear friend has sparked my love of reading, writing again by giving me the most beautiful book as a gift this Christmas.

The book is called Christmas Days by Jeanette Winterson (link below).  I have enjoyed reading books by this author previously but this gem of a book has totally captured my love of reading again.  It is a collection of short stories interspersed with recipes and I have devoured reading it.  How lovely to read a short story that takes you away, or to read a moment of the authors life when she is sharing recipes for food that either she or the people she loves have made.  Read it, it is a joy.

And so, I am inspired.  Who knows what will appear on these pages.  I have taken creative writing courses in the past and haven't shared anything I've written, I have also written lots about love and also about loss and I hope to create new pieces, write fiction and non-fiction, memoirs, recipes, poems who knows.  No set rules or deadlines just the chance to be creative.  It may be a journey or it may just be typing, but I have to try.

But enough for now, here is the link to that amazing book - read it and then buy a copy for someone you know loves reading, they will love you for it.

http://www.jeanettewinterson.com/book/christmas-days/

Happy New Year

Ali

The 'everyday small things' sadness of grief

Sometimes grief isn't a big thing.  Sometimes it is the incredible loneliness of missing the person you have lost so much that you just feel empty for a while.  I know that it is the big milestones that hurt the most, the birthdays, anniversaries, Christmas, actually any date which was special and makes you remember your loved one.  But more often than not, it is a small thing, an everyday event, spotting something familiar and even on some occasions being in a certain place that triggers grief.  The one thing I know for sure is that I will never, ever get used to how hard the sadness hits you.

I am feeling like this right now, and it is what has prompted me to write this blog post.  I actually am feeling very driven to write about my experiences with grief at the moment, hoping that perhaps what I write helps someone through a dark moment.

I miss my Mum.  I miss her so much I can barely breathe.  A couple of things have happened in the last few days, I learned that one of my good friend's Mum sadly passed away last week.  Having to buy a sympathy card and write something heartfelt has made me miss my darling Mum and feels as if I've picked the scab from my grief wound to let it hurt anew.  The first person I wanted to talk to about what had happened was Mum.  She always knew what to say, and how to make me feel better.  I don't have that now and that's awful.  Sadly my Mum died from a brain tumour, and although she was still with us, circumstances meant that she couldn't help me when my younger brother died (6 months before my Mum).  Those conversations and chats with her that I missed then and now, when life was sad, cruel and unfair just helped.  Mum couldn't fix those times, but she brought her thoughtfulness and love to everything and sharing sad times with her always made me believe that things could be happier again.  She was an eternal optimist, I too am an optimist but with a fatalistic view on life (I should write about that too one day!).

But the time I miss her the most is when, like today, I have happy news.  Again small trivial things, I've noticed that the rose we planted in our garden with our lovely dog Rosie's ashes is about to bloom, and it makes me happy because I feel as if Rosie is still sitting in the garden with me.   My Mum would have liked to hear that.

A text just received from our daughter confirms that she has got the result from one of her third year University exams and passed!  I am so proud of her, I know its the first result of four but she has worked so hard and I am just chuffed to bits for her.  My Mum would love to hear this happy news, she loved her grandchildren so much, and she had a special bond with her only granddaughter too, as my Mum was the only girl in a family of boys she understood about how it was to only have brothers!  I wish we could share this happy time together, I feel very alone without my Mum.

All this six and a half years since my Mum died, and the pain in my chest and tears that have dried on my face are physical evidence of how much I miss her, how much I love her and how I wish we could just have another chance to chat about small things, happy or sad.    I feel a bit better now I have typed this, perhaps in a cathartic way I now feel as if I have chatted with my Mum.

Love you Mum, miss you xxx

The right thing to say

I received some lovely feedback recently.  It made me realise that I haven't posted on this blog for a while, other projects and generally life getting in the way, but actually revisiting this blog made me still happy that I have it.  This blog is for different reasons than Garden Cuppa or TTouch Ali, far more personal, and much more for me, rather than about me.

2013 is a year for reconnecting, with people I've lost touch with, with projects I haven't pursued or had time for, and with life.  Three years have passed since my darling Mum and Brother passed away, and now I have a feeling that things I plan can happen, life goes on as it should.

Recently I've had a few discussions with friends, based round 'what do you say' or 'what is the right thing to say' when you have been told someone you know is ill, has cancer, has had someone they love die.  The answer is, I honestly have no idea.  What I DO know is that there is no 'right' thing to say, times in life that these don't require the right response.  What they do require is any response.  It's not the time to think about what you are saying, you just have to say something.

I experienced my first real grief (other than losing my beloved pet dog) in life when I was 17 years old.  My boyfriend and first love tragically died after being involved in a car accident.  At the time no one spoke to me, I was told to be brave, not to cry, not one person ever discussed my grief.  Our friends all were suffering their own grief too, a sad bunch of teenagers, we sat around, playing records and trying to make sense of it.  I used to see people I knew cross the road away from me as I walked through our town, people just didn't know what to say, so they avoided me.  Looking back now I don't think I recovered from that experience until I was in my 20's.

Just about three and a half years ago, I sat in the Chevalier (end of life) ward at the Royal Marsden Hospital in Sutton, Surrey.  My brother, Stephen, was dying, and right up until the end had not shared that his cancer was terminal with me (our Mum was terminally ill at the time too).  Stephen had had counselling via the Marsden, had compiled a bucket list, planned his own funeral and was in a good place, his counsellor asked if me and my husband would like to speak to her.  We did, we spoke with the counsellor for a couple of hours, mostly about Stephen's wishes, his concerns for me and for our children, his niece and nephews, he had things to bequeath to them and things to let me know about.  At one point during the discussion the counsellor asked me what I would say to the children about Stephen dying, (14, 12 and 9 years old at the time), I told her I would tell them the truth and I emphasised that I would talk to them, no matter what they wanted to talk about I would listen, and even if I didn't have the answers that I would support them.  I told her what had happened to me when I was a teenager and she asked me 'what would have been the one thing that would have helped then?'  I replied that I had just needed someone to talk too (or someone to listen to me).  It was being ignored or avoided that hurt me the most, making me retreat into my personal grief, not being allowed to show how hurt I was, and putting on a brave face that took me years to recover from.


It doesn't matter what the right or wrong thing to say is, what actually matters is saying it, being there, listening, hugging, making cups of tea, turning up unannounced to empty the dishwasher, offering lifts to the hospital, posting on facebook, picking up the phone and chatting, walking the dog, sending a text,  making more cups of tea, think about what would help you and offer that.  

In otherwords don't worry about what to say, just say it anyway - show you care, it makes all the difference.

It really does.

Live life lightly

Hmmm - I suppose this is about trying to do the right thing, life my life right, tread gently, leave no impact and to try and nurture the people and animals and planet around me.

I am sometimes taken with the notion that I shouldn't have been born in the Sixties but perhaps should have lived then - there is definitely a latent hippie in my soul! 

I lived as a vegetarian for about 10 years, due to animal welfare concerns but then decided that a better way for me was to buy 'happy' meat - basically to eat fish, meat and poultry that I knew came from organic or free range farms.  Since moving back to Aberdeenshire I also now buy meat direct from farmers I know and respect, they are not organic but their animals are treated with care and travel the minimal distance before dispatch.  My husband and I  also try to grow as much of our own veg and fruit as living in the North allows (weather permitting!).

The work I do with horses, Tellington Ttouch Equine Awareness Method is about looking at how the horse moves, and believing that 'bad' behaviour or poor performance doesn't come from the horse being naughty but from pain and/or tension in the body which is affecting the horse.  It is such a gentle way to be with animals and has a real feel-good factor when you see how the horse responds.

The Reiki I use on my self, family and friends gives me the same sense of well being - I suppose it's all about balance really.  I try to be a good friend, try not to be judgemental and try to think before I open my big mouth - it's hard (I'm human after all) but I would always want to treat others the way I'd like to be treated myself.

I'm not a religious person at all, I believe in humans and the universe.  However, there is a race of people and belief system I feel most akin to, the Native American one - we lived in Western Canada for 4 years and I was incredibly moved by what we learned about the Native Americans there.  They have a way of explaining the connection between us all that works for me.

Honor the sacred.
Honor the Earth, our Mother.
Honor the Elders.
Honor all with whom we share the Earth:-
Four-leggeds, two-leggeds, winged ones,
Swimmers, crawlers, plant and rock people.
Walk in balance and beauty.

Real life is quite often busy, stressful and doesn't feel like this, but this I what I aim for and would wish to pass on to my children.  It's a bit of a tall order but I'm working at it!