And Still We Go Supporting

                                                   And still we go supporting
                                                   The rain falls with cruel intent
                                                   The cold bites through to the bones
                                                   Bones weary with age and seasons past
                                                   Aching each step as we climb
                                                   For the seat with the clearest view
                                                   Tea in hand to fight the wind
                                                   The weather tries to beat us back
                                                   And still we go supporting

                                                   And still we go supporting
                                                   Defence slackens, a foolish slip
                                                   To leave the keeper, open, bare
                                                   Another ball flies through the net
                                                   Yet in the crowd is no despair
                                                   We battle back, regain control
                                                   A lucky break, opposition through
                                                   A second goal, to pause our cheers?
                                                   And still we go supporting

                                                   And still we go supporting
                                                   Because our hearts fill with belief
                                                   Because that team it fills our dream
                                                   For we remember better times
                                                   The goals, the roars, the cheering crowd
                                                   The shiny cups we held aloft
                                                   Because we do not doubt our boys
                                                   Because we know they will achieve
                                                   And still we go supporting
                                                 

Morte Doctor (with apologies to Tennyson)

                                          So all day long the noise of battle roll'd
                                          Among the Twitterers, through evening news
                                          Until the Doctor's TARDIS, flown by man
                                          Had fallen, like Gallifrey, about its Lord,
                                          Capaldi, then, because his wound was deep
                                          The bold Chris Chibnall uplifted him
                                          Capaldi, last in a line of Doctors male
                                          And bore him to a forest, across a field
                                          Regenerating him to woman brave
                                          That stood in dark wood of silent trees
                                          On one side lay adventure in TARDIS blue
                                          On another a great hoard of gynophobes

                                          Then asked the wise one clearly
                                          Does the sequel of today unsolder all
                                          The goodliest fellowship of famous men
                                          Whereof Whovians hold record?
                                          Do the men you loved sleep such a sleep?
                                          Think you that nevermore at future time
                                          Shall we be delighted by heroic deeds
                                          From TARDIS console entered?
                                          The world would perish were womankind so weak
                                          Timelords regenerate to save once more
                                          The man so smitten through the helm
                                          Continues with a mind that is the pride
                                          Which tumbles forth and cries

                                              Behold, she IS the Doctor
                                       

It is a beautiful World

When I was in my late teens I had a copy of The Desiderata by Max Ehrmann on my wall. I read parts of it most days, all of it some. The past few days the last lines have been coming to mind

'With all its sham, drudgery and broken dreams, it is still a beautiful world. Be cheerful, strive to be happy'

At the moment, listening to the news and following social media, it is easy to believe that the world is a dreadful place and that everything has gone wrong. Don't be swung. I would advise everyone that when it all gets too much just stop reading it. Often, when I fear it is affecting my perspective and mental well being, I stop watching the news for a few days and take a social media break. I find it helps, just being in my own little world and knowing that everything there is normal.

In the past few weeks I had some bad news - not devastating, more inconvenient really. Initially I was a little miserable and sorry for myself - "It's not fair, why us again?" Then I stepped back and looked at it rationally. The news wasn't dreadful and, if looked at from the right perspective, was far better that it could have been and really not worth the fuss I was making. I have met some amazingly supportive people because of it who I wouldn't have otherwise met. I have found out how brilliant my friends are too.

Despite the media trying to convince us that the world is going to pot it is actually doing  pretty well There are still plenty of things that we need to work on to improve it further but it's still in much better shape that it was in my childhood.

I have decided to focus on the positive things that make the world a better place. And so, I have made a list:

*my lovely husband and children
*my amazing friends
*my beautiful garden
*my fantastic football team who I am sure will do great things this year
*the brilliant friends at my fantastic football team who put up with me screaming like a banshee      without saying a word
*my beautiful beach, wonderful walks, glorious sunsets and the Iron Men who'll listen to you tell
 anything without breathing a word
*Haworth, which welcomes me back every year and whispers something new of my beloved Brontes
*my books and poetry
*my beautiful piano and all the music I can play
*the blue skies and sunshine that smile when I go out
*The rain that plays tunes on my window and lets me dance in puddles
*Chester Zoo with all their wildlife conservation reminding me again that people care
*The National Trust preserving homes so that I can visit and pretend that I am in an Austen novel and
 Colonel Brandon is just around the corner
*Lacy tablecloths, china tea sets and afternoon teas

I really could go on but I'm probably boring you already. Try making your own list and you'll see that your world is a beautiful place too x

The Wonderful World of Clocks

Anybody who follows my Twitter account knows that I have rather an obsession with clocks. Proper, real, analogue clocks, not those digital imposters. You may wonder what it is that I find so wonderful about time pieces - well, I shall try my best to explain it to you.

For me clocks are reliable, they have honest faces and they practically smile at you from churches and towers up and down the country. They are a memory of happy times, a promise of hours to come, they are a tradition and a future. In short, they are just perfect and wonderful.

The first clock I ever really remember was a similar shape to the one above but made of proper non polished wood. It was where I learned to read Roman numerals and where I was quizzed about my time telling. The clock was my Grandad's retirement present and adorned our mantlepiece throughout my childhood. Every Sunday there was the ritual of winding it up for the week. This was always done by my grandfather no matter how many times I asked to do it. It could be overwound he told me, it was very delicate, perhaps I could do it 'When I was a grown up' Sadly, by the time I was grown both my Grandad and the clock had passed away.

Other clocks that loomed large in my childhood were the clock on the Royal Liver Building and the one on Big Ben's clock tower. The Liver Building clock was a sign that the long bus ride to Liverpool was finally at an end and I had made it without being bus sick! I loved seeing that clock.

When I was 8 my parents took me to London and I was so excited to see Big Ben - I didn't know it was a bell then and thought it was that wonderful clock that towered over the city, big and strong, making sure everyone in London arrived at their destination on time. I don't know how many times I made my parents walk past it that holiday just so that I could see it again but they were very patient. Eventually my father bought me a postcard of it and told me that I didn't need to walk past it again because I could carry it with me. I kept that postcard until I was 21.

I can remember the excitement of being bought my first watch, which was basically a wrist clock, a big face with clear numbers, two hands, no second finger to confuse me, just a very large face with a leather strap to fasten it around my tiny wrist. I spent the whole day looking at it proudly, watching each minute pass, Goodness knows what I missed that day.

Then, in my teens, came the advent of the digital watch. The hideous, impersonal, unfriendly digital watch. I got one, everybody had one. I hated it. It was unfriendly and controlling in my view. On my wrist clock I could watch the hands moving as the face smiled at me - on the digital watch there were just the flashing dots in the middle counting the seconds of my life away. To this day I hate digital clocks and watches. I know they are supposed to be more accurate but to me it's like taking my mother away and giving me an android trained to cook perfect meals, answer every homework question and have every bedtime story ever told in their memory banks - it's very good but I'll keep my mother thank you.  You could offer me a digital clock made of solid gold and I'd swap it for a discount store analogue one that smiled Good Morning every sunrise.

I am quite open to viewing wonderfully scientific and historical clocks and one of my big ambitions is to travel to Prague to see their wonderful Astronomical clock. It was installed in 1410, is the 3rd oldest in the world, but the oldest one still operating. Just look at the photograph (courtesy of Wikipedia) - how truly wonderful is that? Maybe your digital wonders can tell you all the same things but they will never be as beautiful.

There is something reassuring about a clock. If I arrive in a new town or city and see a huge clock smiling down at me then I know that I am safe and it is a nice city. If I arrive and see a digital clock counting down the minutes of my life, then I distrust that city and am immediately on my guard.

There are so many wonderful clocks around the country so, next time you are out and about, look up for them and I promise you'll find that they smile at you and say 'Welcome Stranger, spend some time' for, indeed, time is all we have.

In The Midst of Life, We Are In Death

                                      In the midst of life
                                      We are in death
                                      Is what they always say
                                      As we stand in black
                                      To mourn a life
                                      So cruelly stole away

                                      You must not break
                                      But learn to bend
                                      For oft it will be so
                                      But heartache feeds you
                                      Makes you strong
                                      It is through loss you grow

                                     And so it goes
                                     Throughout our time
                                     Lives end and new ones start
                                     And if you're lucky
                                     Now and then
                                     Some stay within your heart

                                     I have no fear
                                     Of death myself
                                     What will come, will come
                                     I'll either be in Heaven
                                     Or else that's it,
                                     Life's done

                                     But what I fear
                                     Most of all
                                     What preys upon my mind
                                     Is the thought
                                     That I could one day be
                                     The one who's left behind

                                   
           
                                   

Memories of Happy Times

I was talking with a friend a few days ago about the time when we were happiest. Not special times, like the day we were married or when our children were born but a time when we can remember being consistently happy, no worries, hardly any sadness, just to be able to wake each morning and know that the day would be good.

I narrowed mine down to being in junior school. She told me that is probably why I still go in there to help despite not having children there. Maybe she is right.

The class I remember most was my first year junior class with Mrs Brown. We had windows filling two walls and the sun seemed to make the room glow with happiness,

Mrs Brown was a truly inspirational teacher. She was firm but fair, as all good teachers are. She reinforced my love of reading and instilled a love of nature.

I can remember the excitement of the last lesson of the afternoon when she would read to us. It obviously had an impact on me because I can still remember many of the books today - Charlotte's Web, Her Benny, The Hundred and One Dalmations. We hung on every word and longed for story time the next day to hear what would happen to those beloved characters,

One term we grew broad beans under varying conditions and I was mortified that mine weren't allowed light because I knew that they wouldn't grow healthily. Mrs Brown told me that scientific studies must be done so that everyone understood.

Mrs Brown would take us to the park and teach us to identify trees by their leaves and seeds and to recognise plants by sight, Do children do nature study in any depth now? I can recall feeling so proud of myself for knowing these things and asking my Mum for the Ladybird Book of Trees so that I could identify more. We still have a copy of that book now, but we have fewer elm trees to identify than when I was a child.

The more I think about it I can trace many of my enthusiasms back to Mrs Brown's class. Her and my secondary English teacher have been the biggest influences on my life, other than my parents.

We always had a quiet time in the afternoon when we were told to place our heads in our arms on the desk, and just allow our brains to relax in total quietness. We were always told how well we had worked and that now it was time to rest our brains. This was just before playtime every afternoon. Children need more time for meditation now. Relaxation doesn't seem to be part of the modern curriculum.

One memory that is still strong is of sitting in her classroom on a winter's afternoon, the room was quite gloomy and the rain was pouring down. We could hear it like music on the roof and windows. I still remember how safe, calm and happy I felt. I love listening to the rain falling even now. It's reassuring.

My mother was always outside to collect me. I remember how on rainy days she would hold my hand and we would run home splashing in puddles and laughing. Once home she would snuggle me in a warm towel to dry off, then toast teacakes on our open fire to 'tide me over' until everyone else was home for tea. Every enthusiasm I brought home from school my mother encouraged by talking, visits and buying me books to further my knowledge. I was truly blessed.

Most of all my memories of being eight are of feeling safe, loved, happy and inspired. I really hope today's children can say the same. Happy memories are a wonderful thing to hold on to and they can strengthen and help you through the darkest times of adulthood.

Our 2016 - A Pictorial Review

As a family we began the year in one of our favourite places - Crosby beach. We really are blessed

to have this on our doorstep and a brisk January walk along the seafront certainly blows away the cobwebs after the festive period. This is a special place - it clears your head when lost or upset and shines brighter when happiness fills your heart.

At the end of January we went down to Malvern to visit relatives and included a visit to Malvern Priory, above, and a walk in the beautiful hills. We really do live in a lovely country, both by landscape and history. 

February saw the first of many visits to wonderful Chester Zoo - here showing my daughter's beloved giraffes. The weather is always kind to us here and we always have a super time. So much to see and learn.

The end of February saw a trip to the Lady Lever Gallery to see the exhibition of Hollywood dresses and of course some of Millais' paintings. Port Sunlight is a beautiful village - both it and the gallery are well worth making a detour to visit if you are ever in the area.

March was a quiet month but we managed lots of park walks and I kept up with my gardening and birdwatching. If you ever feel a little stressed or tired, time in your garden is a wonderful thing. 

April saw a trip to stay with special friends in Scotland - a visit to Linlithgow, the Flight Museum, Scotland and sailing on the Firth of Forth around all three bridges.( I didn't take the camera sailing) We had such a lovely time and were very well looked after.

May brought some fine weather and time for lovely walks. Lots of fun was had hiking along Parbold canal above and being rewarded with Mr Whippy ice creams. It also gave us the chance to dress as ladies of the manor at Lyme Park.

Amber discovered Brideshead Revisited this year so, of course, early June saw a trip to beautiful Castle Howard. It was a brisk Yorkshire day when we went and the Temple of the Four Winds lived up to its name but the castle's beauty still shone forth.

July was our busiest month of all. Amber turned 18, so many parties and celebrations for that, my cousins came from Canada to stay - it was so lovely to see them, the miles really are too far. We visited the Cavern Quarter, the Albert Dock, toured Anfield ( Evertonian son unimpressed) and spent time with other relatives we see far too little of.

Early August brought a lovely holiday in Western Scotland. We stayed in a lodge sitting on a river and visited so many pretty places, some historical, some by the seaside and fine lochs. 

Later in August my lovely friend and her son came down from Scotland. There was another visit to Lyme Park, Ormskirk, Mere Sands Wood, St George's Hall, the Anglican Cathedral and, as you see above Southport's super model village. All great places but even better when shared with special people

September saw the return to school but still fine weather and time for trips to the beach and visits to Southport and lots of book shopping.

October saw another return to Malvern to visit family and see Worcestershire at its glorious, autumnal best, the colours really were wonderful. Then came my annual birthday treat to my beloved Bronte Parsonage and a little trip to Heptonstall.

November started mildly and we were still able to fit in lots of walks like the one above along the Broomscross Road. We had our first real frost which was very welcome and painted the garden with a festive glow,

And so came December which, while not without its difficulties, was also surrounded by the love of family and friends . reminding me that I am one of the luckiest people in the world and am truly blessed with all I have. The Christmas decoration above was sent from Canada the year we married and has adorned our tree every year since, though we are now not so young. 

In review, this has been rather a nice year, much has been achieved, lots of love has been shared and much laughter too. All that is left is for me to wish you all a wonderful New Year filled with love and happiness. May your troubles be few and your joys many. Remember to look for the good, it is always there.