January Thinking

Even Plymouth is cold. Plymouth is rarely cold but cold it is. We have lit the fire as a Sunday treat - it doesn't take much to keep me happy. I think I am even now struggling to come out the other side of Christmas. I was looking forward to some time off but there is so much to do, it isn't really a holiday and then suddenly you are back at work with all that entails. I am not really moaning. Well, I am, a bit. 
We went to church this morning to hear a new PP (Prospective Pastor) speak. He seemed fine but the other one seemed fine to me, as well as the one that I thought was a PP but tuned out to be just a visiting speaker. I thought he was especially fine. I tend not to have much to do with the pastor anyway these days. I am a bit allergic to church leadership sometimes. Anyway - as I said - he seemed fine to me and more experienced and spiritual people will make the decision. All will be well I expect. We were a bit distracted because HOH (that's Head of House - my other half - I think someone asked last week) has hurt his back so he had to sit like Miss Jean Brodie all the way through the meeting.
On top of everything else going on I also had an unexpected meeting with Aged Parent in Primark. (Sometimes I forget she has moved to Plymouth) I have to admit, she didn't have my full attention so I missed the beginning of the story she was sharing. All I remember is suddenly hearing (in a VERY loud voice) "The thing is, I don't fancy him and he doesn't fancy me - we are just friends" I suddenly became aware of too many people too absorbed in Primark's rather fetching range of lime green sweaters while pretending very hard not to listen to aged parent's pronouncements. Without boring you with too much detail - nothing was quite as it sounded so I didn't have to deal with the reality of parental carryings on and therefore spending the rest of my life putting my fingers in my ears and singing God Save The Queen over and over until it goes away. No wonder I am struggling. 
No doubt, I will have my mojo back very soon. Until then, I am off to watch Foyle's War. Is it just me but it all seems very complicated now. What with MI5 and all that. I miss the war - you knew where you were with a dead body pulled out from under an unexploded bomb.

Be Careful Out There

First of all - an apology. I have not been here so I haven't. I have been lurking and reading everything - even if I've been a bit late to the party. Just a lot going on - nothing too troubling. Back to work and it's busy and life and things. Am working hard to get back on an even keel.

I just wanted to say a little bit about Channel 5 and its "Too Fat To Work" programme. These thoughts are in no particular order and I will not be troubling the Pulitzer Prize with the writing here but stick with it. 
Listen, I don't like a shirker and and everyone who can should be working. I really have little insight into these people - they could be serial killers for all I know. I am also the wife of someone who works on a hospital ward and has had struggles with people with obesity - both with the physical weight and the attitude they sometimes have to their own lives - I'll leave that there.

I have to be a bit careful here because I know the people in the film slightly as they are service users where I work and I also had some dealings with the film crew they worked with. Having said that, all I would like to point out is

1. I know a set up when I see it and some things in this programme were not quite as they seemed.
2. Not everyone in the film was able to understand that there may be an agenda here if you know what I mean. 
3. The whole thing was sad and upsetting and doesn't reflect well on anyone - including Channel 5.

That's all I can say really. I would like to rant for twenty minutes but I just wanted to warn you not to accept everything on face value. 

Just also wanted to mention a friend who, in the middle of a long line of trolling of the couple on Facebook, typed in "God Bless Them. I hope they have a long and happy marriage" I love it when Grace intervenes.

It seems extra sad to me that on a day when people in Paris have paid for their journalistic integrity with their lives - other people who also call themselves journalists - can produce this. I am almost calm now. Thank you.

All Present and Correct

Sooo, we did it, we survived Christmas. It was fine. Some really nice days. I dragged all at Martha Towers to the traditional Christmas film at the Plymouth Arts Centre. This year it was ET which none of the offspring had seen (Call yourself a mother?) There was some discord as FOW1 declared that his favourite Christmas film was Die Hard and I felt that this misconception had to be dealt with. However, all was merry and bright and if I was slightly unhappy at having to pay £55 for four ponced up burgers in Ed's Diner afterwards, I kept it to myself for the most part. Other than that, I seem to have spent a lot of time providing lifts for offspring and then waiting for offspring to get back from things. You know how it is.

We had to split Christmas Day as HOH was working on Christmas morning, so presents were done on Christmas Eve which means the arrival of Aged Parent with four bin bags full of Christmas detritus and therefore me working like a Trojan to placate HOH who likes his life quite tidy. Christmas Day was spent in the kitchen more or less. I was quite taken this year with Frugal Queen's assertion that it was just a big roast and that we just just back off and give ourselves less pressure. However, I spent hours in the kitchen and am feeling more and more that Aunt Bessies pre cooked stuff is the way forward in future years. Or a lasagne.

The Carol Service was excellent this year. Lots of carols with a traditional choir. Seems like that's what people want at a Carol Service - to come along and sing lots of carols - who knew? It was good for me though because up to then, I had been a bit like Barry Manilow about Christmas - you know - up, down, trying to get the feeling again. I did wonder briefly if this was the year that we had all finally managed to kill Real Christmas off. What with penguins on buses and Black Friday and adverts pretending to be about the war when really all they want you to do is buy their chocolate. Linking up on the Advent Pause was helpful. I read everyone's blogs and found new people and generally just felt more proper Christmassy with it. 
I'm a bit woo-woo about Facebook, this time of year. It's full of photos of people in their living rooms having a great time at Christmas. It's good for me because I live a long way away from people that I like so I can see them and also I'm quite nosy. However, it crossed my mind that if you were alone or worried or just not having a particularly good time, it might make things a bit worse for you. I say don't be too affected by this kind of thing. Most people are muttering under their breath a lot during the festive period - despite all the #lovemyfamilyatChristmas stuff that is posted. Of course you love your family! Why are you telling me? I have come to the age when I will be quite glad to "see things go back to normal" and I am eyeing Christmas tree with a sort of  - "how well will that burn?" gleam in my eye. Speaking of burning, the photo above is a fantastic present from a friend. It goes by the fire and is full of the odds and ends of old scented candles. So when you light your fire it is easier to get going and you get a nice scent as well. Bob - il est votre oncle as they say. Some people are so creative.

Christmas story. This is there too.

Independent

A sound was heard in Ramah,
    weeping and much lament.
Rachel weeping for her children,
    Rachel refusing all solace,
Her children gone,
    dead and buried.

Isis in Iraq

Advent 3

This week I am

Cancelling tea with the Mayor. Yep that's the kind of high living person I am. I just throw the Mayor to one side because I get a better offer. (Actually, we have a couple of people off work which means that there are literally no phone answerers if I go swanning off. Am hoping Mayor is ok with this. Am thinking that he is as he as already cancelled on me once)

Reporting back on the Paddington movie. It's really good. The spirit of the books is there in all its glory. He's funny and sweet. The Brown family are exactly as they should be and the house they live in is just beautiful in its eccentricity. It is also an unashamed plea for racial tolerance and welcoming strangers into our lives. I don't expect UKIP will be giving out copies of the DVD for Christmas. (Didn't get to see the one about the nun. We weren't sure if we fancied it. The day after we didn't go, it promptly won a big award at a film festival. Of course it did.)

Trying to find a sensible place and then noting down where I am keeping presents. This will hopefully avoid the usual scene of me having to remove all the clothes from my wardrobe on Christmas Eve in a mad panic because 50% of the presents I have been buying are missing. It's never a good time.

Thinking - blow the whole thing and sitting down on Saturday afternoon with some chocolate and watching Hello Dolly. How lovely it is. Am almost not bothered about being found later in kitchen high kicking and singing Put On Your Sunday Clothes.

Attending FOW2s A Level Certificate presentation. Am hoping against hope that it will be as funny as the year they invited a contestant from The Voice to make the presentations. The faces of the Board of Governors as he sang "Your Sex is On Fire" has kept me happy on many a cold night.

Wondering why a elderly man who was drunk as a monkey was trying to shoplift a bottle of suntan lotion. (Bit of a commotion while I was waiting in the Chemist for medication for Aged Parent) I wouldn't have thought there was much call for it at this time of year - even on what I presume is a thriving Black Market in Plymouth. Maybe it was just for the thrill of it. Anyway, I was more unhappy about seeing it replaced straight back on the shelf when the bottle was recovered. It could quite clearly have done with a rinse having been down some rather unsavoury trousers.

Finding out about Advent Candles. I didn't know that each one was supposed to represent anything. (I come from a Christian background where any candle in church is the beginning of a slippery slope) So when we lit ours on Sunday,  I heard that it represented John The Baptist and this was news to me. I like John The Baptist though. A voice in the wilderness. A light in the darkness. In the busy times, in the mess that is in my head, in the darkness that lurks in my thought life, in the sadness of buying a coat for a child in a refugee camp because they have fled their homes with only the clothes on their backs, in the startling realisation that the people we trust to govern us think that we will be ok with torture. During these times it's helpful to remember that God is there - a small light in the darkness sometimes or a still small voice of calm and wisdom. 

Linking up to A Pause in Advent