Healing

The nose piercing is healing fine although I could have done with a few dips in the Arabian Gulf to speed up this process. Instead I have been relentlessly bathing my face in homemade salt solution and sleeping with some rock salt attached to my nose on occasional nights. The piercing is on the left which is supposed to be good for easing the pain of child birth; bit late for that now. Which reminds me how much I trust in my amazing contraceptive device that is still anchored safely up there and not floating freely around in the wondrous abyss of my womb. It's like having a mini alien resident but I don't feel disturbed by its presence, just grateful. Two places on the local train line suddenly spring to mind: Wombwell and Penistone.

Train Station Threesome

At the train station waiting to return home from work one afternoon I find myself involved with two older teenage boys. Both were terribly uncouth, ugly and immature, just to put you properly in the picture. They were showing off and abusing one another in a kind of good-natured way, although overusing the f word to the point of it being a complete and utter waste of their vocal chords. They were speaking really derogatorily about girls, really loudly, then asked each other if they had ever had a one night stand. Trying hard not to laugh at this second part of the last sentence I kept focusing on the blackbirds and magpies (one for sorrow, so I always look harder to find two for joy), in the sky. Suddenly one of the lads brazenly asks me for the time and I reply, politely.
Then they decide to spar right in front of me, kicking each other in the groin while continuing to verbally abuse one another. I am, by now, willing the train to come along the track and rescue me. But I couldn't help myself by joining in and saying, 'You must be quite good pals?'
The track-suited one replied, 'No, not really. I'm going out with his sister.'
My trainspotting was rewarded as I glimpsed the lights appearing first around the bend.
'It's here!' I say, mostly to myself and they suddenly stop fighting and become almost civilised.

Choose life, I think.

I only managed two Boot Camp sessions before the injury to my Piriformis occured. I have been in absolute agony yet somehow still managed to walk and work; smelling of an intoxicating mixture of Pink Grapefruit perfume (nice and fresh for work and good for the senses) suffused with the overwhelming Deep Heat scent (smeared all over my lower back and left buttock). My colleagues have been so kind and caring, taking the strain from me at school with the manual handling side of the job. I get so cross because I love keeping fit and it's so debilitating being unable to move freely without constant pain. Then I get overwhelmed by the amount of mental, physical and spiritual pain suffered by others in the world and cry my heart out.
Sitting on an ice pack and stretching has worked wonders for the muscle strain so I'm looking forward to cycling again soon, maybe after half term. I miss cycling.

A school friend of mine died just before Christmas and I recently attended a celebration of her life at a local pub. It was well attended and I was pleased to be able to go along and support her loving mum, sister, friends and family members. It was another opportunity to remember how short our earthly lives can be and to enjoy each moment just as it is, right now, wherever we are. Yet we also have to be true to ourselves and courageously change the things we can, to keep us motivated and moving positively forwards.

My many still living, beautiful, clever and kind friends continue to bring me much joy in my life and I will love them To infinity.......and beyond, in the words of Buzz Lightyear from Toy Story. But I also have a secret friend at work. He/she sends me random gifts such as chocolates, candles, socks with rainbows on, sweets and all manner of things, every now and again. It's really lovely especially when you least expect it and if you are having a particularly tough/challenging week at work. I suspect it's a her but I don't know who yet and it's so intriguing because I want to hug her and say, 'Thank you for caring about me so much.' I reciprocate by leaving random gifts and notes to another member of staff (my secret friend) and try to make her feel as special as I am made to feel.

Red Hot Kitchen Drama

It is a gloomy February evening.
The four main characters are in the kitchen at the same time as it is just before tea. All the lights are on but they somehow don't seem bright enough. Mini-Me is finishing some maths homework at the table. Dirtbag is on her phone standing by the fire. Romeo is at the sink while Midlife crisis is frantically mashing potatoes or something.

Mini-Me: What is erotic love?

The three other characters suddenly become paralysed in their actions then burst out laughing loudly in bass, soprano and alto.

Mini-Me: What? It's just a question.

(We are getting a lot of interesting questions since he is now being taught sex education at school).

Midlife crisis: I don't know I haven't experienced it yet! (laughing manically and dolloping the mash onto plates). Then while the 12 inch version of Erotica by Madonna spins in my head I come up with the following explanation.

Midlife crisis: It's when people make each other feel good by touching their private parts. Would you like two or three sausages for tea?

Well, what would YOU say?

'Your hearts know in silence the secrets of the days 
and the nights.
But your ears thirst for the sound of your heart's 
knowledge.
You would know in words that which you have always 
known in thought.
You would touch with your fingers the naked body of 
your dreams.

And it is well you should.
The hidden well-spring of your soul must needs rise
and run murmuring to the sea;
And the treasure of your infinite depths would be 
revealed to your eyes.
But let there be no scales to weigh your unknown 
treasure;
And seek not the depths of your knowledge with staff 
or sounding line.
For self is a sea boundless and measureless.'

From The Prophet by Kahlil Gibran

With Love xx

Reading: Death by Dangerous by Olly Jarvis
Listening to: Torture by Hairy Diamond and Hang Me Out to Dry by Metronomy and Robyn
Singing: with Shepley Singers some traditional folk songs beautifully arranged in four part harmonies. I'm challenging myself in the alto section. It's brilliant.
Watched: La La Land (2016), Cast Away (2000), Meet The Parents (2000), Meet The Fockers (2004), Dead Poets Society (1989), Little Miss Sunshine (2006) and The Kite Runner (2007)


/www.youtube.com/watch?v=rmlmOk4ubc

At the peak

I can only describe myself as being absolutely without any doubt at all as being at the peak of my midlife crisis. Displaying some ridiculous behaviour and thought processes which I shall refrain from sharing with you. Feeling as though I am in a permanent state of high alert I have had to endure extended wood walks, dodging numerous trees and have lots of music therapy time at home. This involves me singing exuberantly or weeping wistfully depending on which song I have selected from my 45 year old discography. Approaching the woods one day I was quickly catching up an unknown male in front of me on the same route. He'd just finished a phone call and I thought he seemed a bit sad.
'Do you mind if I overtake you, I'm trying to sort my head out?'
He replied, 'No love, aren't we all?'
I sped walked past him smiling and wished him a Happy New Year. He returned the greeting somewhat remorsefully I thought.

I couldn't lose myself in the woods forever and it became clear that I could not escape myself, even when I tried to runaway from me. The tree roots kept tripping me up and their branches grabbed and scratched my skin.

The decision was made and I've told you this before that once I decide to do something I do it. Like in the last week of term when I decided to cycle TO work in the thickest of fog. The sort of fog which envelops everything, where vision becomes milky white and minimal at best. Romeo tried to stop me but I had set my mind and off I pedalled into oblivion. It was brilliant.

So this life changing decision (which I have carefully considered for over a year) involved taking Mini-Me along for courage. Poor child. As we entered the alley he looked slightly concerned. I confessed to him that I was a bit nervous and that I had thought about doing it for a long time and did actually want to do it. There was no need to wait, just straight in after a bit of a chat and a couple of signatures. Mini-Me sat on the floor eating a sausage roll looking rather gloomy. Polly took me into a smaller room and I sat down on the black leather swivel chair.
'Shut your eyes and take a deep breath in,' she instructed, which I did. It was the tiniest prick I have ever experienced. When I opened my eyes and looked in the mirror a small droplet of blood seeped out from beneath the silver stud in my nose and I exclaimed,
'It's massive!'
Polly reassured me that after 4-6 weeks I could change it for the smaller, more subtle jewels that I love.
'I don't like it,' was Mini-Me's deadpan response with a shake of his ginger mop.
I'm feeling more relieved and less manic now that I have done something I consider reckless, that only hurt me in this crazy time of my life. Next I have the minor gynae operation to look forward to. Gulp!

Birthday card from my brother

Mum and I went to church together on New Year's Day. It was a joint service in another village so quite well attended and in a beautiful old building. Lots of large white candles were flickering on each stone window ledge below the stained glass windows. I felt so peaceful and full of hope again despite the sad news on the radio that morning. It was the first time mum had seen the nose job. She chuckled and said it was OK. I told her that I could think of worse things to do and we both giggled in the pew. During the prayers while saying sorry to God for all the wrong things I think, say and do, I felt completely calm inside and my soul simply replied, 'I trust you.'

Not really resolving to do anything new in particular but perhaps make a bit more effort to sustain our marriage, Romeo and I planned an adventure walk together sans enfants. Because it's not all about sex is it? This Dear Reader is NOT a rhetorical question. You should be shouting right about now,
'No Susie, it's not all about the sex,' or 'Yes Susie, it really is all about sex,' whatever your own opinion dictates. It probably depends on whether you are male or female.

Back to the walk. It was brilliant being out together alone on the moors with a bit of rock climbing next to a waterfall on the ascent, before being submerged in low cloud on the steep and slippy descent. Romeo really made a massive effort here because the day before he had slipped on some black ice. Despite the bottles of wine in each hand surviving the fall, his knee suffered quite badly but he hobbled up and down just to be with me.

The saddest thing happened on New Year's Eve when half an hour before going to a friendly, family party Mini-Me looked us both directly in the eye and asked, 'Is it you? Are you Santa?' The truth was followed by thirty minutes of crying, door slamming, counselling and comforting. We somehow managed to get to the party which was great fun, but then while walking home together at 1 am he says soberly,
'So, I suppose you are the Tooth Fairy as well?' Dirtbag has been quite calm and supportive throughout, recognising that her brother's ten year old belief system has been shattered forever.

I hope this new year is being kind to you whatever you may be experiencing. Remember it will not always be like this, circumstances can change for better or worse. Don't be afraid to ask for help if you need it and hang onto your friends as though they were the only life jacket left in the stormiest of seas. That's what I do anyway.

 

''But what is my dream? Is it really to know God, or is to know personal happiness? Didn't Teresa also warn that the price of following a dream includes painful setbacks, even having to start all over again? Sometimes it means facing things that we think we can't face, to learn the depth of God's mystery and of our need for faith. My God, I feel as if I am being torn apart.''

From Lying Awake by Mark Salzman.

With Love xx

Reading: Notes On A Scandal by Zoë Heller
Listening to: Time Moves Slow by BadBadNotGood feat. Sam Herring
Singing & Dancing to Outside, Faith and Careless Whisper (from Ladies & Gentlemen The Best of George Michael 1998) in my kitchen with a long lost girlfriend under the glitter ball on a grey Monday evening
Watched: DodgeBall: A True Underdog Story (2004) and Noah (2014)
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LSgmgkyhPZ4

I remember everything

Page 45

I am now another year older and hopefully a bit wiser. My colleagues surprised me at 9 am with a birthday cake bearing a few burning candles. Some of my gifts included: an electric toothbrush (Romeo), hand cream (Mini-Me), a notepad and a heartfelt, hand written letter (Dirtbag). Obviously my friends spoilt me too with some lovely thoughtful gifts.
Laugh along with me and pages 44-45 (how perfectly coincidental of my age change and name) from The Ladybird Book of The Mid-Life Crisis:

Suzy is at the hairdresser's.

She wants to look good because tonight she is going to a gabba all-nighter under a railway arch with her estranged daughter.

''Dye it blue, please,'' says Suzy.

Suzy is wondering which bra will best show off her new tattoo.

Shopping in Leeds and afternoon tea out with a special friend of mine was a great treat. It was a multi-sensory overload of sights, lights, sounds and sparkles in the freezing fog. At one point I actually thought I was in London being the country bumpkin that I am. Meanwhile, Romeo was out on the golf course seemingly in another country, as he was above the low cloud in beautiful winter sunshine. Heaven knows where the kids were?

We missed our connecting train back to Shepley by 3 minutes leaving us with a whole hour to kill in Huddersfield. So we decided to have a walk round our town which was quite a shock to the system after the safe hustle and bustle of the city. It was only 6.15 pm and the Christmas lights were on but I felt a bit unnerved passing by groups of hooded youths and the ambulance was already parked up outside Wetherspoons. We managed a quick circular walk, passing the beautiful tree outside the station with the statue of Harold Wilson standing stoically still behind, then entered the Head of Steam for a drink. I was certain we witnessed some dodgy street transaction between a man and a young woman and it's times like these that I wish I was not so observant.

Leeds

The Cure provided a perfect remedy at Manchester Arena, especially as I was going out on a work night which made it even more exciting. I parked in a car park down a really disgusting litter filled side street, which was a brisk ten minute walk from the venue. As my a-ha mad friend and I weaved our way around the rubbish I found myself saying, 'You wouldn't get this in Qatar.' Well definitely not on the streets but upon the shores of the coastline were zillions of discarded plastic bottles, bags, nappies and sandals.
I was slightly unhappy to miss the early evening support act (this is a cryptic clue as to who they were??) but both being working girls and mothers we couldn't get there any sooner. The stage lighting was fab and the first song I heartily sang along to was The Walk followed swiftly by In Between Days and Lovesong, which is my favourite, before wandering off into A Forest. It was a mixed crowd and appeared full to capacity and I saw at least two people being dragged over the barrier from the mosh pit. My eyesight is still good even from up in the rafters, although I am trying to deny the possibility that I may need some reading glasses soon. Robert and the band looked quite sprightly and he had obviously spent ages doing his hair. We did discuss whether it could actually be a wig or not nowadays, given his age.
A giddy, middle aged dancing woman behind us suddenly stumbled, falling on top of me and my friend from this extreme height. With gravity on her side she grabbed onto the large silver hoop earring swinging in my left ear lobe, to steady her downfall. OUCH!!

Throughout the great two and a half hour gig there was a constant stream of people particularly on our row and the one in front that kept moving up and down and along. It was so annoying. Can't anyone sit still anymore? I danced as much as I could from the waist upwards, reminding myself how lucky I am to have full body function unlike many of the lovely students at school who are fastened safely in their wheelchairs. Dropping my friend off up our street just before midnight, I didn't need a Lullaby to send me to sleep. The third encore set was still playing in my head: Friday I'm In Love, Boys Don't Cry, Close To Me and Why Can't I Be You.

Exactly a week later I find myself in the village church hall listening to the Shepley Singers, enjoying their harmonies reverberating in this place where I went to playgroup as a child, then Brownies and Guides. I even had my 'Surprise' 40th party here just before we left for the desert. How ecstatic was I to win two adult tickets for the Spring Festival next year in the raffle. Brilliant!

I am without doubt in full Christmas mode having enjoyed carol services and Nativity performances at both school and church. I smiled constantly as I pushed my wise man proudly onto the stage in his wheelchair while trying to balance the crown on his head. His parents were waving to him from the audience and by some small miracle I managed not to cry.
Everywhere I look there are decorated trees and twinkling lights which brighten up the grey skies.
'It's so dull Mum, I hate it here. I want to go back. I miss my friends,' says Mini-Me between sobs and anger outbursts.

Walking in a Winter Wonderland

Facing a few friends who are sadly suffering some bereavement just now, I am once again reminded of how fragile we all are. Trusting these words from Kahlil Gibran can comfort us:

'Your joy is your sorrow unmasked
And the selfsame well from which your laughter rises
was oftentimes filled with your tears.
And how else can it be?
The deeper the sorrow carves into your being, the more joy you can contain.'

Obviously I have survived my works Christmas do or I wouldn't be typing this right now. If I can't see you or be with you in what's left of this year, know that I am thinking of you.
Hope to see you in 2017.

Wishing you all a very Merry Christmas and a Happy & Healthy New Year! (I can just about say this in Makaton now too).

With Love xx

Reading: A Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens
Singing: Christmas carols and songs
Listening & dancing to:www.youtube.com/watch?v=gkCYh1x44G8
Watched: Jason Bourne (2016), Scrooged (1988), Rise of The Guardians (2012) and Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016) in 3D

Winter is coming.........

I can, wholeheartedly state that I have not felt as cold as I do now in five whole years. Brrrrrrrrrrrrrr! Halloween was bone-chilling enough with a constant stream of trick or treaters knocking on the door between 5 and 7pm. Being left home alone I decided to put on my best Russian witch accent and have some fun. You could say I was over acting but it was so funny seeing the little ghouls, vampires, witches and wizards trying to work out if I was foreign or not. At least a couple of brave skeletons had the guts to say, 'Bye crazy lady,' after receiving their sweets which made me cackle even louder. Mini-Me had fun terrorising another part of the neighbourhood while Dirtbag was at the orthodontist having her braces removed. She returned grinning like a teenager possessed, with glow in the dark pearly whites. Needless to say, she looks even more beautiful than she already did before.

The village bonfire was a blazing success on such a freezing cold night. I stood as close to the fire as the cordon allowed with my friend, shivering in many layers of clothing, our faces glowing from the heat. Choosing to drink hot chocolate over alcohol to warm me on the inside this time while enjoying the firework display above us. Seeing my old pal there reminded me of the time we decided to have a camp fire together behind the cricket club tea hut built of wood. We were either in Brownies or Guides back then and obviously wanted to put our new skills to the test. My friend stayed at base camp while I ran across the cow field, climbed over the wall and into my back garden to steal some matches from our kitchen.

'What are you up to Suzanne?'
'Nothing Mum, I'm just having fun at the cricket field with Jane.'
'Be careful!'

We were enjoying the first plumes of smoke signalling upwards, oblivious to any danger and happy to be having this adventure together. The next thing we knew was the groundsman at the time, a lovely chap no longer with us, sprinting across the field towards us, waving his arms and looking really, really angry.

'What the bloody hell do you two think you're doing?'
'We're having a camp fire, Cedric.'
'No, you're bloody well not! You're going to burn the bloody tea hut down.'
Our tears probably quenched the pubescent flames.

The same old ramshackle tea hut remains to this day but the new giant club house is progressing as well as available funds will allow.

I See Fire

I walked gleefully down the road to catch the train as the first snow began to fall, catching the flakes in the purple palms of my gloved hands. At once I became Lucy entering the wonderful world of Narnia for the first time. Not having seen or felt snow for five years was so exciting for all of us. Romeo had galloped out into town earlier in the week to buy more bedding; we now sleep under two duvets to combat the freezing cold. I am eating and sleeping well, still cycling and walking, working up a cold sweat to fight the stubborn flabby bits. Happy to report that my hard work has been rewarded with my temporary contract becoming a permanent one. Brilliant!

My survival skills are also up to date, having recently watched The Revenant which I absolutely loved. I'm glad to state that there are not any bears in my woods. My closest encounter with nature recently was when a fox dashed out in front of me on my bike ride home. And I do imagine when snuggled up in my pyjamas beneath the double duvets, that it is as cosy as being inside the sleeping bag of a dead horse.

'You breathe. Keep breathing.'
'On est tous sauvages.'

I am so happy to be reconnecting with my favourite friends here in the UK. The time we spend together is never is enough. You know how much I love you, though, don't you? On a recent night out in Holmfirth, my friend and I laughed when we realised we could have gone to see Chas and Dave perform in the Picturedrome. We did see them leave backstage by coincidence, both still sporting their beards and flat caps. It's worth checking out what bands are performing at this venue as alongside the many tribute acts there are some interesting surprises such as: Reef, The Wedding Present, Roy Wood, Sophie Ellis Bextor and Howard Jones.

The service for Remembrance Sunday was well attended. I cried as The Last Post was played by a young lad and I thought of my great grandfathers, my grandfathers and my friend, Arthur.

'We remember with thanksgiving and sorrow those whose lives, in world wars and conflicts past and present, have been given and taken away.'

With Love xx

Reading: Lying Awake by Mark Salzman
Listening to: Suzanne by Leonard Cohen, originally a poem then his debut single in 1967 and In Your Eyes by BadBadNotGood ft Charlotte Day Wilson (2016)
Singing & dancing to:The Cure in preparation for their upcoming gig in Manchester
Watched: Mirror Mirror (2012), The Revenant (2015) and The Shelley College production of Billy Elliot The Musical (2016) which was brilliant.

Hair, there and everywhere

Out of the woods

The harvest festival was held in the village pub and followed by an auction which was all very amusing and lovely. Autumn is my favourite season and it's certainly in full colourful flow just now. Cycling home from work I get to see a beautiful rainbow over Castle Hill right in front of me, which makes me smile so much as it is the embroidered logo on our school T.shirts and jumpers. Full of hope and happiness I pedal on. The half term holiday has been a welcome break from the school/work routine and a chance to catch up with friends, who I have to remind myself I shouldn't miss anymore as they are nearby, but as we are all so busy working we don't have much spare time. Anyway, I have realised that wherever I am there will always be someone somewhere that I miss.

''That's just the way it is 
Some things will never change.''

We have had one of Dirtbag's desert found friends staying with us all week which has been lovely. Hearing them both giggling and chuckling together around the house makes me consider keeping her here with us forever. I was fearing the worst given that we have gone from having three bathrooms (in the desert) to one. This is definitely downsizing in a bad way. Allowing myself to sink into oblivion in a full, hot bubble bath, after two minutes I will always encounter the following scenario. I've not named us here but I think I'm obvious and the other lines can be either, Romeo, Dirtbag or Mini-Me, you choose.

'I need the bathroom.'
'Oh no, I've just got into the bath.'
'I need the toilet.'
'OK, can you wait a few minutes?'
'I need a poo!'
'Right, I'm getting out now.'

Hauling my work-weary bones out of the depths is somewhat akin to the raising of the Titanic. Then I stand towel wrapped and goose bumped on the landing waiting to re-submerge if I can cope with the air pollution. Considering that we have a few buckets lying around, I could always place one in the cellar for emergency use again, like we did when installing the new bathroom a few years ago.

What crazy person would pay a small fortune for her hair doing and then follow it up by shoving a cycle helmet over her super styled, carefully coiffured locks and go for a two and a half hour bike ride? At least I walked out of the hairdressers feeling like one of those shampoo advert women for a little while. It was such a beautiful afternoon I had to be up on the hills. Although it was 12 degrees I felt freezing as the wind is very chilly over the Pennines. It can't have been too bad though because I did stop to have an emergency cherry ice-cream before returning home. The boys were playing golf and are as keen as ever, the girls were being swots doing homework and revising.

My Mirkwood

Our girls shopping trip resulted in a spontaneous Halloween freak show in which I play the main part. My once demure brows now tinted and tweezed resemble some semi-permanent chic slugs snoozing above my eyes. What is wrong with me? For five wholesome years my eyebrows have been scorched by the harsh desert sun and now I allow myself this ridiculous act of vanity. Why do this when I can't even hide the results behind my sunglasses? If I wasn't constantly blowing my nose free of varying shades of snot I would also consider a tiny nose piercing. Again why? It seems to be a force beyond my control and I'm obviously a bit scared of growing old. Which reminds me to book the date for a November party because parties are fun. Maybe I will wear my new top with the colourful unicorn on it and the words Your sparkle has not gone unnoticed, printed underneath in silver?
It reminds me of Mabel, a character from the animated series Gravity Falls which I love watching with Mini-Me. It's different, quirky and funny.

The Village Bonfire

Newsflashes

Dirtbag ran on the track again at a local club.
Romeo is now seeing the chiropractor for his groin strain.
Mini-Me and Midlife Crisis went on a sponsored walk for Haiti calling at three local churches.
Still looking for more agents/publishers.
Don't give up!

''Every man's work, whether it be literature or music or pictures or architecture or anything else, is always a portrait of himself.''
Samuel Butler (1835-1902) British writer and composer.

With Love xx

Lyrics from The Way It Is by Bruce Hornsby and the Range (1986).

Reading: The Tea Planter's Wife by Dinah Jefferies
Listening and singing to: Love & Hate by Michael Kiwanuka (2016) and Love To The People by Sue Barker (1976)
Dancing to: Around the World by Kings of Leon (2016) and (Feeling Like A) Demon Again by Primal Scream (2016)
Watched: The Hobbit: The Desolation of Smaug (2013), Tomorrowland (2015) and Pulp Fiction (1994)
Going to see The Girl on the Train (2016) with some girlfriends at www.penistoneparamount.co.uk

How will you go?

I'm still enjoying cycling in the early autumn days and afternoons. Last week I grabbed five juicy blackberries from a bush to sustain me on my way home. I smile hearing the train pulling into the station as I am cycling/walking up the Eiger equivalent through the woods half a mile from home. The flat train journey only takes 11 minutes compared to my 45 minutes of uphill and down dale pedalling.

Harvest

Romeo was invited on a golf tour in Scarborough but the only room available in the 'hotel' was a family one, so guess who joined him? Sorting out the sleeping arrangements Dirtbag declared,
'This isn't a hotel, it's someone's house.' Yikes, luxury desert dwelling has spoilt her.
We had to pretend we weren't really there so as not to cramp the lads weekend away. I feigned surprise to see them all tucking into their full English platefuls at breakfast. Meanwhile, Mini-Me overheard a table full of older bikers behind them and remarked, 'Mum, I think they are French.'
Brilliant! Another excuse to speak this foreign language that I love. All I needed to do was to attract some attention. What mature, French, leather clad monsieur would want to parler avec moi? The one with the twinkly gleam in his eyes passed by and we made contact. Obviously, I was using this opportunity to encourage Mini-Me to develop the art of conversation and amuse myself at the same time, while mute Romeo and Dirtbag stuffed themselves with the full monty. Les hommes were on a biking tour and were here for the Steve Henshaw International Gold Cup Road Races, which were also celebrating 70 years of Oliver's Mount. The non-stop zip zip zipping of motorcycle tyres on tarmac could be heard all weekend across this seaside resort. Or was it the sound of gear changes and engines? Being a pedal pusher I have absolutely no idea whatsoever.

Despite the temptation to experience this high octane sport I already had a date with the kids and some other lovely Dukhan friends who have recently returned, like us, to the homeland. It was so great to see each other again; sharing transition news over a meal, laughing on the top deck of the open topped bus and frittering a few pence away in the amusement arcades.
The following day, as Romeo was whacking his balls about on another course, I treated Mini-Me and Dirtbag to a dive at the Sealife sanctuary. This is the nearest I will get to underwater diving anyway; peering through the tanks eyeballing the beautiful fish, rays, penguins, sharks and sea turtles. Dirtbag was so relaxed and calm, loving the eeriness of the alien-like jellyfish swirling around in different tanks of coloured light. It was quite an expensive treat because I hadn't any vouchers but worth it as it is also a hospital for locally rescued seals.

Ellie's jellies

I have enjoyed a couple of great nights out lately, one being the Shepley Cricket Club Ball where everyone was dressed up and looking gorgeous in their finery; at least the women were. My past often comes back to haunt me here at home which can be so amusing yet sometimes embarrassing as I discovered in the boiling hot toilets at the ball. I was with two glamorous older women at the sinks who knew each other somehow and both knew me. It went something like this:

Woman 1 to Woman 2: So how do you know Suzanne then?

Woman 2: I could have been her mum-in-law.

Susie laughing hysterically but also fearing the next statement directed towards her.

Woman 2: You broke up with him and he failed his A levels because of you.

Susie mortified and clutching at straws here but bravely being honest:
 Aggggh, did he? Oh, I'm so sorry, but I didn't truly love him.

Woman 2 hugging me: It's OK love, you were both so young.

''Escape is on your mind again, escape to a far away land.''

I hurriedly retreat back to the safety of the dancefloor laughing my head off. Yet upon reflection, I feel slightly guilty about the consequences for my ex. Gulp! Is it any wonder that I am a regular church goer? How many other male lives have I ruined? Although I have had my fair share of heartbreak, losses and longings too. All of us wildlings have this in common, don't we?

A staff night out at Playworld sounded like great fun, especially when it turned out to be a retro roller disco. Woohoo! Suddenly I was Dirtbag's age again, whizzing round and round singing to all the 80's, 90's and 00's tunes. Still sporting some streaks of lime green in my hair (from our Macmillan cancer coffee morning at school) and wearing my lucky top, I can happily report that I only fell over once without sustaining any injury.
The most recent event to record is my attempt at modelling seven different outfits for a fundraising fashion show which I absolutely loved. Not knowing many people in the audience helped but it was great to see mum and Dirtbag clapping and smiling at me strutting my stuff down the school hall catwalk. Afterwards, as I said goodnight to Dirtbag through her private, beware of the teenager bedchamber door she replied, 'Night mum and well done.' I smiled throughout my sleep that night.

''When he reached her, she pulled him gently inside the flat and closed the door. He leaned her against the wall. He bunched her bright curls in his hand. Now he wanted to tell her everything that he was feeling, but he felt the words float away. He put his mouth on hers. Her breath was sweet as caramel.''

From The Road Home by Rose Tremain.

With Love xx

Mini-Me and me by the sea

Reading: First Love a poem by Derek Mahon
Singing: How Will You Go, by Crowded House from their album Woodface (1991) and Light Up My Room, by Barenaked Ladies from their album Stunt (1998) with the staff choir (currently a trio).
Dancing to: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7CiVF7LjKU8
Watching: Game of Thrones Season 6, at last. Brilliant.

I will survive

Our Shepley Beer Festival was brilliant. I found myself dancing with my brother under the marquee on the grass in my wellies on Saturday night. Then dancing with mum, dad, Dirtbag and some friends on Sunday night to Thunderbridge. They are a local band that Romeo used to frequently front and he found himself back in the spotlight for this occasion. Unfortunately, he was feeling ill and almost lost his voice. I felt sorry for him as he was really looking forward to it. On the plus side, the audience thought the band were great and he has never sounded more like Rod Stewart when singing Maggie May.

I am proud to report that I have survived two full weeks at work, cycling home three times both weeks with the weather still being kind to me. I have been chucked in at the deep end as there is so much to learn, although the hydrotherapy pool is not over my head. The students are amazing and the staff are so committed, kind and encouraging; I feel very privileged to work in this school. It's strange being the new girl again as no one knows me at all and I want to do a good job while remaining true to myself if you know what I mean. Whatever situation I find myself in I can only be me, as you can only be you.

Cycling up one of the lesser hills I have to slow down, even more, to allow the colossal combine harvester to turn right into the field on my left. Chuckling away to myself I continue, only to then see the vision of a lycra clad cycling Romeo charging uphill to meet me. Obviously, he doesn't trust me out here in my wood, field and countryside paradise. After all, there are many alluring and intriguing routes I could deviate along, but I don't, despite the temptation.

Emley Moor TV mast in the distance

Dirtbag and Mini-Me are slowly settling into their new routines. They have both told us about some 'naughty children' in their classes but have also been enthusiastic about their lessons and teachers. Dirtbag played in her first netball match against another school and they won 25-5, which she loved. She was proudly playing the centre position. Meanwhile, Mini-Me has signed on for a local junior football team, playing the position of goalkeeper. They had their first friendly game last week with a 3-3 draw. They are both missing their desert friends very much.

We have been taking Dirtbag to a chiropractor who is working wonders on her hip and knee pain. She has had her pelvis and spine realigned and some deep muscle massage on other problem areas. The song Miracle Aligner by The Last Shadow Puppets is playing in my head. It is great to see her body responding so well to this treatment. She should be up and running again by Christmas.

Reunited with my book club here, meeting on the same night as my Dukhan one, felt slightly surreal. Especially as it was held in the home where five years ago I told the group our exciting news. One friend reminded me that they all thought I was going to announce another pregnancy, so it was an even bigger surprise when I told them we were off to the Middle East. Everyone is as lovely as ever and toasted my return with some prosecco, which made my eyes sparkle and twinkle through the exhaustion at the end of my first week at work.

cycling home

Romeo seems more like a lost, wandering nomad here, than in the desert. It's a big change for him not to be going to school every day. He has kindly made tea every night for the family so far, which is much appreciated, by me anyway. The four-hour road trip to Stoke for some clay was a positive step and a day of supply teaching at the local high school rekindled some fire in his being. We all need to feel as though we have a purpose, don't we? It is in the quiet wilderness times of our lives that we feel the most challenged but then we often emerge stronger like the phoenix arising from the ashes.

I miss the little geckos darting to and fro and now have to capture and remove huge house spiders and Daddy longlegs. Last Tuesday night we had a spectacular storm which raged and flashed all around for a good hour or so, making me squeal and jump in delight, pinballing me from the loft windows to the kitchen doorstep. Brilliant! And how lovely that we were here to celebrate my newest nephew's first birthday; with a barbeque to devour and a dummy pinata to demolish.

''The window glows. The slow sandy light of predawn permeates the room. Everything is transient and aching; everything tentative. To be here, in this room, high in this house, out of the cellar, with her: it is like medicine.''

From All the Light We Cannot See by Anthony Doerr

I will continue to keep wondering and living in the present and so must you.

With Love xx

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8r31DFrFs5A

Reading: The Road Home by Rose Tremain
Listening and singing to: No one Will Ever Replace Us by The Courteeners, What Part Of Me by Low, I wonder by Rodriguez and The Present Tense by Radiohead
Watched: Little Fockers (2010) with Mini-Me! Rent: The musical by Woodhouse Musical Theatre Company at the Picturedrome in Holmfirth

www.info@picturedrome.net