Oo-er, thinking again...

Hmm, after some years of carefully very loosely defining myself as a Vague Pagan, I think I managed, in an exchange of ideas today, to actually define what I believe, for once.. I must stop thinking.. seriously bad habit..


I hasten to add that as I don't believe in a single objective truth either, I am not going to argue the toss with anyone who believes differently or say I'm "right" and they are "wrong", because, for me, that's not what faith is.

I said  "am only a Vague Pagan, can't explain what I believe easily, quite close to Taoism but not quite that either.. more that the universe itself is, as a whole, an alive thinking entity with a "flow" of its own and a "balance" it keeps. I believe what people perceive as God is a personification of this, and that "Mother Nature" is another personification"

Ninja hormones and thinking too much!

Funny how menopausal hormones can sneak up on you and do a ninja attack, like Cato jumping out of the fridge to get Inspector Clouseau! I'd had a cool Friday night.. karaoke with D and V. The pub was buzzing and it was a good evening with lots of singers pulling all the stops out for fun, with some great silliness. This morning however we overslept, meaning a rushed start, and that always puts me out for the day. Enjoyed a brief visit to V's, helping her dispose of an old sofa, and got bounded all over by her lovely hound, who I was pleased to get a chance to see again. But on the way home, with my blood sugar possibly a bit out of kilter, I began "thinking too much".

Now "thinking too much" is always a bad thing... think as little as possible, that's my motto! It was a kind of philosophical, life, the universe and everything "think" about making the most of people whilst you have them, possibly partly triggered by V receiving an old police report about her sister's death in her teens, which had of course brought it all back to her vividly. Counting her, two of my closest friends lost people from their immediate family in their teens. I lost my Grandpa quite suddenly in my teens. Of course I have suffered the loss of relatives since, and I have grieved them, but they did not go in an unexpected or sudden or traumatic kind of way.

In  2007 I "lost" a child who had become like a grand-child to me, not to death but to forced adoption. Due to the machinations of Social Services I didn't get nearly as much time with him as I would have liked when he was still with us, and some of those times were snatched or stressed.  The end of it all was very traumatic. His mother, again, as a daughter to me, has spent much of the last couple of years in psychiatric hospital as a result of his removal from her and is only just now beginning to claw her way back from the trauma of that experience (touch wood). Circumstances mean she will not live with us again. Sometimes you lose people to death, sometimes extremely unexpectedly, sometimes when you know it is coming.. sometimes you lose people because they, or you, move on in life, and circumstances change. At least in the latter case you might find you become close to them again one day, through chance, or because you make an effort to re-find them. Sometimes that doesn't work because one or both of you has moved on too much. People move in and out of each others' lives.. young people growing up need to break away from their elders a bit to make their own lives, and you may not see as much of them as you'd like in that phase. There are people I am missing, at the moment, due to a number of the above reasons.  There are people I know I will miss badly when my own life moves on next.

So my general conclusion was that one needs to really make the most of the time one spends with people, because these moments are when you forge the memories that will keep them always with you, if you should lose them in any way. And with that still in mind, as I sat on the chairs by the checkouts in the supermarket whilst D paid for some stuff we picked up on the way home, I found myself suddenly fighting floods of tears because some bloke who looked vaguely like my Dad who now lives hundreds of miles away in the Lake District (so no popping round) and is "getting on a bit" walked past me. I didn't half feel silly! But I am visiting him this summer... and I will be sure to make the very most of it.

The pink dreadlock sheep of Herne Bay

Desired effect of pink dreadlock wig:

Actual effect of pink dreadlock wig:

Lesson learned: never buy a wig through the post that you are therefore not able to first try on! Especially one that offers no returns once tried..  thankfully it wasn't hugely expensive. Methinks there will be some creative cannibalisation over the next few weeks...

Baby steps..

My poor elderly brain is decidedly tired after a day of sorting out a problem with my new baritone uke at the music shop, then two lots of uke practice during the day in two different sets of chord names-to-shapes, since the baritone is differently tuned. This presents a number of problems... but I like a challenge, and "we shall overcome"!

Which brings me neatly to overcoming the challenges of fulfilling my list of stuff to do before I die. I need to start by picking an aim that doesn't require a lot of money and that is the most achievable... therefore I have picked writing a song for ukulele as my first challenge off the list. And since I used to write poetry in my mis-spent youth, the lyric will be the place to start. Watch this space..

How many ukuleles can you fit into a camper van and caravan?

I am growing old dis-grace-fully, but less dis-grace-fully than I might...

I had already acquired either as early or on-time birthday pressies my electro acoustic concert size uke, a tiny mini practise amp (clips on a belt, fits in a handbag), a wee pickup for the soprano, bag and pub prop for the soprano, an electric kazoo, and a stylophone (a la Rolf Harris, remember them?), and there are still a coconut hand drum and some £3 secondhand electronic drumsticks coming in the post. To my enormous surprise, thanks to the generosity of the souls around me, I still had some birthday money left over to spend!

So we wandered into a music shop in Canterbury today.  It was full of little fluffy clouds and blonde haired men and women in white garb sitting on them playing harps. Or at least it seemed very much like Heaven to me! The percussion corner caught my eye first of all and the variety of fancy bits and pieces there was fascinating enough, but I decided I should abstain. So we wandered round to the books, but the huge variety of instruments surrounding me kept calling to me. Mandolins, yummy, balalaikas, yummier, a whole corner of other strange and exotic stringed and woodwind instruments.

Then there it was... the  banjolele. Which is a kind of cross between a banjo and a ukulele. I have often admired their shiny glory on eBay but had not met one in person. Here there were several, and stunningly beautiful they looked to me too. After I finished swooning I picked up the entry level one to have a play with. They use the same tuning/chords as the uke so I could play it straight away. Jingle-jangle love at first play! Now the uke will always be my first love now, with the kazoo coming a quirky second, but the banjolele is very very sexy,and quirky, too! Unfortunately starter banjoleles are in a VERY different financial league than starter ukes and so I did not have enough. For a short while there popped up, amidst this Heavenly environment, a serpent in the form of the thought of raiding our fledgling van repair fund then spending the next month listing my craft materials stash on eBay dawn til dusk to repay it. I was strong, reader... I could not be THAT dis-grace-ful.

However they did have a cheap baritone uke that was within what I had... so I put away the Bob Dylan songbook I'd picked out that would have put me over budget if I had got that as well .. and walked out within budget. But with another ukulele... how many ukuleles can you fit into a camper van and caravan?

My excuse for this one is that it is tuned entirely differently. Basically it is tuned the same as the top four strings of a guitar. Being bigger than the soprano and concert ukes I have, but not so big as to make it too difficult for me to play as the guitar had been, it has a more bassy sound. Aside from the fact that I will be confusing myself immensely by learning two different sets of chord shapes at once now, this has some advantages. I can use it sometimes when playing in our uke group, or with David, to compliment the higher-toned instruments and pick out bass lines to allow for different arrangements.

Had I not bought this, whilst I had the money to hand in a lump, the cash would only have gone on little bits and pieces..

I know... I'm dis-grace-ful... we will need an instrument trailer...

Celebrating popping out from my mother 48 years ago!

Birthdays are quite a funny concept really... celebrating the anniversary of popping out from your mother's womb and taking your first breaths in life. But they are a day when, if you are lucky, the people around you strive to give you not just presents or dosh but a feeling of being loved and thought of. I felt very lucky on mine.

Life is a series of moments, many mundane, some extraordinary, some awful. We fritter a lot of them away in a state of distraction, thus unable to feel really alive. I had a very "alive" day this March 18th, lots of fun moments, lots of quietly good moments. I might not have been feeling that well, I might have been in pain at times, but I had a sense of well-being, of enjoying all the moments, of being taken good care of by those around me helping me celebrate my birthday. So thanks to everyone who did something towards that day, whether it was a message on Facebook, or a card or a pressie or a phone call, or spending time with me and making sure I had a good laugh, singing with me, playing kazoo with me (or for me). I had a cool birthday... bless you!

The new me!

Ok, here's the pics of the new look me for those who won't do Fbook. The shortness of the cut disguises the thinning and the strategic scarf hides the baldest areas, though I actually walked round a few shops without any scarf just after it was done, and didn't care, it was quite liberating.. it's sufficiently funky I felt I was getting away with it. The last pic will be my alter ego once the wig arrives from the States...

Hmmmmmmm

Ok, sad cow that I am, I have been awake half the night thinking about my hair! I have looked at my photos and thought about the opinions offered, and in the end what it came down to was.. what would I feel was "me"?  I tried to imagine myself turning up at karaoke or uke club or out and about in the camper van in those hairstyles. What would reflect who I am, rather than what I thought people might find most attractive. Well I have made my decision... all I have to do now is persuade my hairdresser that it's really what I want and to carry it out, lol.

How low should I go?

1.

2.

3.

4.

5.

6.

Bearing in mind all the women are stunning and I'm not, and the kid is cute, and I'm not, how short a haircut should I go for tomorrow? Imagine my face with the cut, and stick the number on facebook, lol. I need help here!

The list... here it is!

What I want to accomplish or experience before I die…

1)      I want to do the whole musical festival experience a few times, muddy fields, loud music, tents, juggling, people in crazy clothes etc etc. And I want psychedelic wellies and a green hoody with multicoloured daisies on to wear there…

2)      I want to live in Scotland for at least a time, somewhere near a loch and mountains, and I shall be living in a live-in vehicle when I do it.

3)      I want to own and wear, together, in public, a pink tutu and pink and yellow stripy thigh high socks or leggings, plus a giant pair of fairy wings.

4)      I want to spend a week somewhere where I can spend a lot of time grooming and communing with a donkey/donkeys.

5)      I want to write my own songs to play on the ukulele.

6)      I want to form a kazoo group.

7)      I want to take a camping holiday with all my best friends all at once.

8)      I want to have a second stab at running a craft stall/business.

9)      I want to go all the way round the British coast in a small boat.

10)  I want to own a camper van painted with giant flowers.

Hair today, gone tomorrow..

Hmm, as I have just commented on Facebook, I am beginning to understand why people say "my hair is fried" when they have subjected it to too much bleaching and colouring. It is having definite haystack tendencies. I guess colouring my hair crazy colours was one of those things that would have come up the top had I been writing a list of "stuff to do before I die" a year or so ago. It has now been orange, pink and turquoise, and red and I had planned to journey back to pink (all over this time, and baby pink) and then a deep blue yet, but I am not sure now that this is a good idea.

To come out of the closet, I am going bald. Not so much that it's obvious yet, but very thin around the crown and if I parted it centrally the parting would be quite wide. My hair has been thinning steadily for the past few years. I used to have luscious thick ash-blonde hair in my youth. I miss it, painfully, as it was the only thing about my appearance that pleased me. Colouring it was not so much on the list of "to do before I die" as "to do whilst I still have any hair to do it to".  Why is it that men can walk around quite happily bald without being judged that much, if at all, whereas for a woman it is disastrous? So much of our self-esteem and sexiness is bound up with having a full head of beautiful hair.  So those of us girls for whom it is thinning, those of us who have alopecia or are getting chemo, it is something that can make us quite miserable. Sure, a bit of surfing can lead you to loads of sites about clever ways to hide your hair loss. Hats, scarves, bandanas, turbans, extensions (if you have enough left to attach them to), clip in attachments (makes it sound like one is a hoover!) and finally wigs.... but how come you don't see men feeling forced to cover up their baldness with a cute floral turban?   So, in case any other women of my age (will be 48 on Friday 18th March 2011) who might read this are experiencing the same problem... this is just to say, you are not alone! If more women talk about it, maybe those going through it won't feel so isolated or scared of being judged.

So perhaps now is the time to get it cut a bit shorter for a while to lose some of the most damaged hair, and to  go for colours that don't require bleaching i.e. something darker than what had become my natural mid mousy brown. The shorter I go the easier it would also make trying out wearing wigs (which could be baby pink or deep blue!). So what do you reckon folks? I need some girly advice...

What to do before I die - part 2

I can think of a long list of things I DON'T want to do before I die (some of them are things I don't want to do JUST before I die, like, bungee jump, or skydive, for example). I DON'T want to lose my marbles, I DON'T want to carry on being so careless about my diabetes that I am liable to go blind and have my feet drop off, I DON'T want to live in Kent where the mountains are crap for another twenty years, and I DON'T want to learn to love mashed potato or soup.. amongst other things. Is this a start, I wonder? Most people finding themselves a little bemused in their middle years decide they should find themselves before they die... I am not sure I have ever been hiding from myself in the first place (5, 4, 3, 2, 1... ready or not, here I come!) I am a pretty uncomplicated being (think of the kind of things in life that please a toddler and you've got most of what I like!). I have never felt a "calling" though, to a particular defined course in life,  I have always been a meanderer and a dabbler... is this bad? Should I be searching behind the sofa and in the wardrobe for myself?

Vote in my poll..

Vote in my poll; keep scrolling down to see it, no, down a bit more, down a bit more, bit more, bit more,  right to the bottom, yes!

P.S. Why does one's latest blog post appear at the top, and the first at the bottom.. this will be very confusing for readers new to the whole concept and trying to find the first thing "wot I sed"..

What to do before I die?

Hmm, well we were riding along in the van to see S in London today when I got talking on the subject of some rave-type event that D's niece at uni was attending, and I started to bemoan the fact that I was growing old (dis-grace-fully) without having done the whole club/rave/music festival type scene in my youth. I said if ever I was dying, it would have to go on my list of stuff to do in my last six months or whatever. Then I started to think about the fact that really, you never know when a bus might hit you (cliché-much.. why a bus? could be a train, or a monster truck, or a VW camper van, or a hovercraft, or a herd of ghostly cattle) and that really (again), I should be making this list of stuff I want to do before I die, and getting on with it as soon as possible. Because you never know when Death will come riding up on Binky and nab you with his scythe. Watch this space for THE LIST...

First words

What historic first words should one choose when starting a blog....

piffle, conkers, supercalifragilisticexpialidocious, snout, wombat.... well that was random! Bit like my life, really...