Lovely lunch
In a week of rain and then some, one occasion brought sunshine into the mix. I had the pleasure of lunch at Pontlands Park near Great Baddow, in aid of the Little Havens Children’s Hospice, based at Thundersley near Southend-on-Sea, Essex. As you may know all hospices in England have no government funding, so rely totally on donations.
It doesn’t seem believable does it! The only thing in it’s favour is the fact that no money from the government means no interference. Did you know that hospices don’t just provide respite care for terminally ill adults and children. They’ve grown to provide a whole range of services for those in need of them. Hospice at Home is one such service.
All in all hospices are just incredible places that do incredible work. Thank you to anyone involved in any hospice anywhere seems inadequate, but my deepest thanks to you all.
Back to the main event. The first thing that struck me on arriving at the venue was the wow factor of the ladies present (it was a ladies only lunch). It’s been a long time since I’ve been anywhere so up market, re fashion. High heels, classy clothes were everywhere. I felt distinctly under dressed. But hey ho, I couldn’t go home and change so I just got over myself!
Catching up with friends was great fun, especially as a couple of them were wearing their new Ardyss body shapers. I’ll leave the jokes to your imagination, but aside from that, I want one too as they compress all your fat bits and retrain the body to remember where it should go. North instead of south has to be a no brainer really.
The venue of Pontlands Park is a favourite of mine. It’s where the old Atlantean Body used to hold their lunches and I’m sure that I signed up for the lunch because I have so many happy memories of the meetings. The sun always seemed to shine on those days and it tried it’s best to shine on the day.
Lunch was being held in the marquee, which has to be a wonderful setting for any party. Pimm’s was handed to me as I wandered in looking for a face I might know or talk to. Not difficult as the ladies I chatted to were very friendly. There were nibbles on the table to hold any hunger pangs at bay. Nothing was missed to make us feel welcome. A very nice three course lunch followed served by waiters and waitresses. Honest, it was all very civilised and made me wonder where I’d been hiding!
There was a raffle and also the chance to donate to take one of the flower arrangements home. Hopefully there was a lot of dosh collected from the 50 or so ladies present. It really was a lovely lunch and I’d be happy to go to any others that occur. For me it’s easy. I only have to buy a ticket, get dressed and turn up.
For the people who run the hospices up and down the country, these events are literally life savers. Puts everything into perspective doesn’t it.
Singing from the Heart
I’d been looking forward to it for weeks and it didn’t disappoint. By the end of the seminar I was feeling uplifted and inspired as I left the building. Rain still teeming down relentlessly, I fairly skipped to the underground and the tube home.
Porchester Hall in London was the home of the venue. Shabby chic would probably be the kindest way to describe the grand old dame that the building has become.
I’m guessing it would cost a lot of money to bring it up to scratch, but that’s just my opinion. It was rather wonderful being in the place that once held debutante balls. But please, please do something with the Ladies – 3 toilets for an event is simply not enough.
Michael Neill and Robert Holden make a magical combination. You can tell that they are friends and like each other. For a few spell binding hours they included us, their audience, in the warmth of that friendship.
Listening, with nothing on my mind, I heard Michael speak about thoughts and the fact that they are not real. Just stories being played out in our minds. All illusion.
Looking up I saw 8 alabaster men holding up the ceiling. Muscles taut, faces strained they were very realistic. Except it wasn’t true was it. The illusion was created by a master craftsman but in reality, they were no more holding up the ceiling than I was.
I spoke up and shared this illusion, but I’m not sure I explained it very clearly and that’s OK. It worked perfectly for me.
Meeting new friends for the day was an extra bonus. With personalities as large as life they included me in their circle, where sharing our thoughts was helpful. They suggested I might like to look at ‘A Course in Miracles’ to explore more ideas around mind, thought and consciousness.
As always life goes around in circles. I bought the book for a friend many moons ago, when she was training to be an Interfaith Minister. And now, I would be buying it for myself.
First though I will read Marianne Williamson’s ‘A Return to Love’ as an introduction. If it resonates, then I will go the whole distance and investigate further.
What strikes me is that everything leads back to the same thing. Different interpretations have lead to many different versions. I truly believe that at the end of the day, you have to go with your heart and follow what feels right.
Thank you Michael, thank you Robert – you both make my heart sing with joy.
Silent Witness – is it really necessary?
I used to be a fan of Silent Witness but not any more. Why? Because some of the scenes are too graphic for me. And just in case I didn’t feel sick the first time around, they repeat the most nauseous clips again and again.
Not images I want to go to sleep on thank you very much.
Yes, I turned off once the penny dropped that this was the new format. And yet, part of me hoped against all the odds, that it would go back to the old Silent Witness.
The one that had a beginning, a middle and an ending. The one that didn’t rely on making me squirm as they showed violence in it’s many manifestations.
Honestly, if I wasn’t an expert at committing murder then I have a good idea what to to now. And this from someone who loves crime novels. Thankfully, the books I read leave the lurid bits to my imagination and, if they don’t I cross that author off my list.
I’m not naive. I know that there are some pretty nasty people out there. And they commit foul deeds. I get the message.
What I don’t get is the need to show me two, three, four times during the episode – for me that’s the ultimate turn off.
Thank goodness Vera‘s back.
Walking the dog
I don’t have a dog nowadays. I did used to have a funny chap called Spike who was a dead ringer for the tramp in Lady and the Tramp. He was always getting into mischief plus his favourite thing was to chew anything he could lay his hands on.
This included a wooden surround on a gas fire, thus causing it to be a real hazard! Door frames were a speciality and the contents of ladies handbags via friends who happen to visit.
Mind you he came unstuck one day when he pinched a packet of Fisherman’s Friends, growled as I tried to remove them from his mouth and then gasped for water the rest of the day after he’d eaten the entire packet.
But my favourite memory is when he was let off the lead at the riverside at Bedford Town (where we used to live) and immediately scavenged the fishermen’s sandwiches. It was early in the morning and a half light so the poor men had no idea what had hit them. I quickly hauled him away from such providence and although it was naughty I couldn’t stop laughing.
Oh and did I mention he could jump high walls. He encouraged the alsatian puppy two doors along to join him and off they would go, free as the air until caught. They loved the tennis courts across the road much to the chagrin of any tennis players practising their shots.
They once went to church and paid their respects. I tried very hard to disown him at times like this but he always trotted over, tail wagging after his latest adventure. We tried attaching his lead to the washing line in the hope that he would still enjoy the back garden of our small terraced house.
This worked until he tried to jump the wall whilst attached and was found hanging over the wall, panting for dear life. A big no to trying that one again!
This was quite a few years ago, when dogs didn’t seem to be so unloved as they are now. I must admit to agreeing with anything that keeps children safe from harm. Nowadays you don’t see dogs roaming the streets as they once did - and that’s a good thing I think.
Last Monday I went with a friend to Heybridge Basin, a lovely coastal walk that many people enjoy, especially dog owners.
One lady was walking her small terrier type dog and was being harassed by two huge black dogs. They looked like a cross between a great dane and a poodle. A poo dane or a great poo – you choose.
As the lady finally pulled her dog from the beasts and came nearer I remarked ‘I’d like to see those on their leads.’
Snarling she turned to me and said ‘At lest they live here’ before walking on, frantic dog still trying to go back the other way.
Here’s the thing. I live in Essex too and I pay my rates. The coastal paths are for all to enjoy and I don’t begrudge the people who come far and wide to enjoy them too.
Lady, if you don’t like the company may I suggest you move somewhere a lot more isolated cos we won’t stop coming – it’s too beautiful not to share.
photo credit Tramp: Loren Javier via photopin cc
photo credit Heybridge Basin: Brian Mullender via photopin cc
Hurrah for Mercury’s Turn
I wouldn’t wish my life away as I’m having a ball, but I will be so happy tomorrow when the planet Mercury turns direct from that retrograde place it’s been operating from.
Why? Because the past couple of weeks have been topsy turvey.
Take the weekend. I decided to return the kindle that had been bought for me back to John Lewis. I’d tried my best to like it and see it’s advantages but you know what, I can’t keep it just to make everyone else happy.
I’s rather have an Ipad and read books on that – my choice, always.
So off I set for the station and decided to get some cash out of the hole in the wall on the way. OK where’s my card gone. The machine decided to eat it, and not just mine. It had a field day eating cards left, right and centre.
The advice the machine gives you if this happens is to phone the number on the back of the card. Can anyone else see the flaw in this advice?
Back home, dig out information to phone bank. One card cancelled, one card ordered. Off to catch the next train.
Fairly straightforward return of kindle. Quick recce of what I might be tempted to spend my wad of vouchers on and then into the cafe at the top of the store for tea and a hot cross bun. Honest, the cafe is so tranquil it must be one of Oxford Streets best kept secrets. An oasis of calm in a frantic world.
Back out into the now growing hordes of shoppers. Head down and onwards to Selfridges.
The reason for Selfridges was that they have the best salt beef sandwiches on offer in the The Brass Rail which is situated near the food hall. Not cheap but sublime – well recommended if you haven’t tried them.
Up to Tottenham Court Road and the electrical shops to see if they have any TV’s that are not the size of a small planet on offer. Wait, was the advise. There are new models coming out shortly.
An elderly gentleman asks for assistance in getting to the Palace Theatre. Normally an easy task but at the moment half of London is a building site as they put the new Cross Rail together.
In the end I flagged a taxi down and asked the driver to get the gent to the theatre in time for the show. Now as it happens I want to see the new version of Singing in the Rain so off I troop to the Palace Theatre’s ticket office. But I don’t go for dates. No I chose my preferred seats and then asked when they where available.
If I’m paying £60 plus for a ticket I want to sit where I want to sit!
Off home and one final quirk from Mercury Retrograde. They held my train back and let my branch line go – why, oh why. This meant a 40 minute wait for the next branch.
Home at last. Day over. Job done.
