Gulp!

I try hard not to be too shocked by the words that spew forth from our offspring's mouths, however, this stunned me for a few seconds last week.

''I don't want breakfast today because I'm fasting.''

OK. Don't panic. Go with the flow Suze.

The pain comes suddenly and I'm also forced to fast due to a 'mild' throat infection, which I find very hard to swallow. MILD, I don't think so Doc, it's keeping me up all night! I feel like I'm gulping down water laced with shards of glass or mini, rough-hewn hessian sacks, with rusty nails sticking out of the sides, (excessive use of I, I know, but I'm ill OK and feeling vulnerable).
Perhaps I'm just as big, soft and defenceless as those Yorkshire puddings Josh made last week? Apparently gingers do have lower pain thresholds than other colours.

My natural defences kick in, producing endless gallons of saliva which I have to swig down or spit out. OUCH, it's so sore! Would the dentist let me borrow one of his saliva sucking machines? The closest I will get to singing today is gargling some salt water solution. Trusting that the drugs will work, I won't listen to The Verve. OUCH, even swilling them down hurts, a lot! What has become of me? How will I ever survive a Yorkshire winter again?

Pain is different for all of us. Taking the introspective lens off myself and using the wide angle, world encompassing one, I see as you do, the horror of yet more terrorist attacks. Where is the antibiotic to permanently stop this suffering? I swallow my pride and my own temporary discomfort, determined once again not to give in to fear.

This will be my last post before the whirlwind summer of fun. I remain perpetually excited. A huge, heartfelt hug full of best wishes, to all those who are leaving this desert for new pastures. Thank you for all your friendship and support. Many thanks also to those of you who have educated the growing minds of dirtbag and Mini-Me. If I really like you I will probably friendship stalk you forever unless you tell me to get lost. To those of you who are staying in this hot, dusty place over the summer and beyond, keep flourishing. We will be returning in August when my Arabian Adventure will continue.

So, as I tie the laces of my trainers ready to walk deliriously back home, this classic track plays on full blast in my head. Odyssey sang it in 1981, but I prefer this 1989 version. It whisks me straight back into the sixth form common room with my girlfriends. We are sniggering and giggling whilst applying fruit flavoured Body Shop balms onto our pure, undefiled lips.

Smile, sing/gargle and dance along with me. Come on, it's only 5.50 minutes of your time.

 www.youtube.com/watch?v=F3fxbZuPRpY

Safe and happy summer to everyone. I know a lot of you will still be working (''Bloody teachers, always on bloody holiday!'' Ay up, sounds like my extremely hard working, lovely brother), but I wish you the same things.

See you soon!

With love,
Susie xx




Our summer book club read is Dissolution by C.J. Sansom if you're interested.

The Drugs Don't Work  by The Verve (1997)

FPI Project, Rich In Paradise/Going Back To My Roots (1989)

Ego Tripping Out

Whilst waking up every day in perpetual excitement at the forthcoming holiday, I know reality will surely sink in at some harsh point when finding myself trapped with the gang in a silver Vauxhall Zafira, on Le road trip to France and Spain during July. Anxiety also creeps upon me as I ponder how to re-create the honeymoon experience we enjoyed at my aunt's house some 18 years ago, with a teenage dirtbag and Mini-Me in tow.
Mission Impossible? (1996).

We are fortunate to have some luscious limes growing on a tree in the backyard, have acquired a gigantic splash pool plus a comfortable sun lounger. It is possible that I am morphing into the 'wonderful world to share,' not of 'brash' Barbie but more likely the UK's Sindy. She had a swimming pool, 'complete with underwater floodlight and foaming jet stream.' We can manage overhead lights and if we all fart together surely we will enjoy the same wonderful effect.

Trying super hard not to begin my sentences with 'I.' This is very challenging when the main subject matter in Susie's Arabian Adventure is Moi and my right of passage through this time in my life. My up to date diary of now. However, who doesn't get annoyed or irritated from time to time by some egocentric woman waffling on and on? Believe me, she even annoys herself!
Universally speaking one of my main aims is to reveal the real challenges any woman of substance has to face as a wife and mother. Although, it's equally as hard for you guys too, so hang on in there suckers.

Speaking of mothers, how shocking to hear that whilst on the very brink of bringing me forth into this world, my own beautiful, blossoming mum was merrily riding pillion on the Yamaha, hugging my handsome dad in her maternity mini dress! It is no wonder I am as I am. Happy to report she did wear a helmet. Is this why I enjoy the thrill of the chase and life in the slower lane of the bicycle seat?

Gently encouraged at an event entitled, Womanhood, to write down the advice we would give to our teenage self with the wisdom acquired in adulthood, this is what I wrote:

Dear Susie,
Don't be afraid, just be yourself. You are good enough just as you are.
Don't try to be anyone else, just be you!

I'm going to tell Ellie these words every week, for the rest of her lovely life.
Hoping you all feel the power of those words for yourselves too, right here, right now.

Another music video I love and would delight to be in with all my wonderful friends and family.

www.youtube.com/watch?v=DL7-CKirWZE

The green fields, hills and woods are no longer a mirage but are actually waiting there on my not so distant horizon once again. Be prepared friends.

With Love xx


Ego Tripping Out  by Marvin Gaye (1979)

You Only Get What You Give  by the New Radicals (1998)

Making tracks and asking questions

We arrived home after the usual Sunday desert trail (we had even waded through water on this one) to discover Mini-Me's boat shoes were missing. I asked him where he had put them, to which he replied,
''I left them on the car tyre to dry.''
Choosing not to get angry, I decide there and then to take up the cycling challenge and retrieve them the following day.
I wake up and set my mind, knowing that I can do anything with determination if I really want to and pedal off at 7.15 am. I battle against the strong winds all the way, waving to the workmen I pass, who wave back. It's already boiling hot. The distance is approximately 12km each way and it takes me one hour to reach the shoes in the sand. Standing in the warm sea I splash water on my face and arms to try and cool me down, the salt stinging my skin. Preparing for the return journey I eat two of my emergency Oreo biscuits and sip my diluted Summer Fruits juice sparingly (I only had 1 litre of fluid with me in my pink Slazenger bottle. I could be Touching The Void (2003) in the desert at any given time).

Thankfully the strong winds push me swiftly, safely all The Way Back (2010). I had to sing to keep myself motivated, stopping occasionally to let my head breathe free from beneath the helmet. Back to base camp I lie down on the rug to recover for a while, satisfied that my mission was successfully accomplished. I also consider that I could have become just as hot and exhausted by shoving my head in the oven and jogging on the spot for two hours. The shoes could have been abandoned and new ones bought, but I remain a frugal Yorkshire girl at heart. Anyway, some nutter could have found them, rescued them and started writing weirdly about them?
My clown is safe and well sitting in my cupboard for now, just in case you were wondering?
I am very fond of him and cannot let him go.

We enjoyed the school Sports Presentation Evening last week. Joshua went up on stage to collect his certificate for representing the school in many fixtures during the 2014/2015 season, alongside many friends. Ellie was wonderfully awarded the trophy for the Under 13's Girls Player of the year. I am so proud of both their achievements and happy they are both enjoying school here. I love to see them both on the stage (Ellie hates the limelight, Josh a bit more confident but very serious). They were both in the Summer Serenade in April, which was lovely. Ellie plays clarinet in the Orchestra and Josh sings in the Junior Choir. The whole event was a showcase of many children's musical talents, encouraged by their hard working music teachers. The Finale featured Ellie playing one of the solo recorder pieces in Adiemus (Karl Jenkins) in-between all the performers on stage singing their hearts out.

It has taken two months of tag team reading to finish Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone at bedtime, with Mini-Me. It's a bit mature for him I think, but he loves the film and fancies himself as Ron Weasley.

I have at last watched and enjoyed both The Theory of Everything (2014) and The Imitation Game (2014). It's good to get to know the wonderful, clever people from our world both past and present. I know that you are all very clever or you wouldn't be reading this.

Here is a short time-lapse video dirtbag made for us from the Barista. She thoughtfully chose the song Heaven by Bryan Adams. He sang the theme tune for Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves (1991) one of the first films Romeo and I watched together.

A while ago I stumbled across a Yorkshire diarist, Anne Lister (1791-1840) who wrote a four million word diary, one sixth of it apparently in code to her female lover! I have been writing diaries since the age of 10 and have many details in them ranging from boring everyday stuff to the many male victims of my teenage obsessions. Sometimes I  think I am very devious in my blog posts chucking in some hidden references to specific friends or family members, usually through song lyrics. I can't help it, it's too much fun and it hopefully keeps the special relationships alive.
Et bien sur, (argh! I can't get the circumflex above the u, the same problem as the Lindt & Sprungli umlaut, despite a Swedish friend and Hungarian family member assisting me. I blame this Arabic keyboard set to English.) I have to continue speaking french for the sake of ma Famille en Paris.
La vie est belle.

By the way, my self-diagnosed mythical Mid-life crisis is a purely positive force which I am celebrating.

I spied with my little eye this dead, desert viper. What does he want to know, I wonder?

Four days of fun

The start of the recent four-day half term holiday took the four of us to the Barasti (an elevated bamboo/palm frond summer house on a private beach, with an additional enclosed air-conditioned room complete with fridge and T.V). It's a kind of Arabian style glamping I suppose. Dirtbag kicks up a bit of a fuss about going but once we arrive she relaxes and enjoys the paradise for what it is. We swim before sunset and while I prepare the basic barbecue dinner, the three play football on the beach. My beloved friends the mosquitoes join us and have a feeding frenzy off both my calves and ankles, resulting in about twelve itchy red lumps. Unfortunately for me, they adore my O positive blood. We all sleep together in the air-conditioned room which is pitch black and don't awake until 8am the following morning.

There are some gentle rolling waves rushing in when we stagger out into the blinding sunlight. Dirtbag can't bear the fun any longer and says she feels sick, so Romeo takes her home. Meanwhile, Mid-life crisis bobs around solo in the surf for a while (Mini-Me is doing some more word searches in his yellow book, highlighting the words found in fluorescent green) when suddenly about thirty flying fish jump out a few metres in front of me, both startling and delighting at the same time. It reminds me of the scene in the Life of Pi (2012) when the fish fly over and into the boat. I love that book and film equally. Unlike the struggling to survive crew members, I didn't need to catch the fish to stop myself from starving as I had already eaten a turkey and smoked cheese sandwich made with farmhouse brown bread for breakfast. I like to think the fish had heard about Susie's Arabian Adventure and just wanted to feature in it.
Once again, this paradise only lasted 24 hours (the allocated booking slot and for a reasonable fee) but I loved every minute of it.

We continued having holiday fun doing more sea swimming and some banana boating. I wanted to insert a video here that I took, but apparently it's too big! (I am exercising the art of self-control now and am not going elaborate on the matter of size again). Imagine the scene: I am hanging on for dear life to both the speed boat and the iPhone. The kids are laughing and screaming hanging onto the inflatable yellow banana, as I am ooh and ahh ing and wobbling all over the place. The recorded footage resembles The Blair Witch Project (1999) on water and in broad daylight. I blame the boat driver, aka Romeo.

Sadly we cancelled our Annual Hash Ball, fearful of Big Brother closely monitoring our fun and also the venue having being suddenly usurped by VIPs. C'est la vie! I remain at peace, my conscience clear, knowing that an even bigger pair of eyes are watching over all our comings and goings. I know this because when I look up into the bright, blue skies or black, starlit nights they wink at me and a still, small voice whispers in the winds, 'It's OK Susie, keep on singing, dancing, swimming, cycling, walking, talking, reading, writing, laughing and living.You're on the right path.'

How much Pharrell style fun, fun, fun I have had, looking after some other children recently. I spent one day with three great kids, (plus our own great kids) laughing, playing and splashing about in the local pool. Then four cute, cuddly days with a six-month-old baby. It brought back many happy memories while creating new ones for me, as I love that feeling of nurturing and caring for others. Why is it so much easier to look after other children than our own? Obviously because we don't have the overwhelming responsibility for them, for the rest of their precious lives.
Warning: This is not an advert for my childminding services and NO Romeo, I do not want another baby!

Speaking of babies I have now completed the first draft of my novel (or novella, which could become a short story after editing?) and printed it out on paper. I walked around the house with it for a while hugging the pages close to my chest, tears of pride and joy welling up in my eyes. It has taken me nine months to create and is 40,110 words long. The next step is really daunting. I have to ask some of my trusted friends to read it and open myself up to receive constructive criticism so I can redraft it. I'm really scared about doing this, but it has to be done.

Recently read: The Rosie Project: (Don Tillman 1) by Graeme Simsion.Very funny.
Currently reading: Another Sky, Voices of conscience from around the world. Utterly compelling as all the authors have been imprisoned or persecuted by their desire to have freedom of expression.
Singing: Can't Deny My Love by Brandon Flowers, I'm Alive by Magenta and Down To The River To Pray by Alison Krauss.
Enjoying some challenging circuit training sessions, so I'm dancing in my dreams to conserve energy.


'' Fear can hold you prisoner. Hope can set you free.''

  The Shawshank Redemption (1994)

Spa Class

Spa Class

''Mirror, mirror on the wall

who is the most stressed of all?''

First skin step is to cleanse:

wipe off the daily grime

stroking upwards, choking,

cotton wool pads absorbing my make-up mask,

skin shining, light-bulb luminous.

The surface reveals

what the heart usually feels

a face that's weathered many storms:

furrowed brow, 

farmers tracks ploughed

between bushy eyebrows,

yellowing white in corners of eyes resting on

purple, puffy pillows,

freckles, moles, faint moustache grows.

Second skin step is to tone:

using the cool refreshing fluid

dare I go deeper

take another layer off myself?

Analyse, memorise.

I see the time I punched a bully in the chin

and shook.

The first boy I tongue kissed under a coat,

grief-stricken tears when Grandma died.

I hear you and me begin to be,

laughing, talking, walking free.

Time together, time apart

yearning, learning, relationship art.

I feel the contraction that came so quick,

half searching down the toilet

feeling sick,

as I tremblingly flushed our baby away

while you both slept, I wept

alone and wept.

Then forced myself to phone NHS Direct.

Third skin step to use a mask:

feel it tighten, maybe crack

as it covers little fissures, bumps and hollows

like a hippo I wallow,

can't eat, can't speak, can just about breathe.

Step four to nourish and moisturise:

relax and shut my eyes.

What lies ahead I do not know

the map is written

I just follow.

Calming cream fills my open pores

as time heals many wounds and sores.

Skin will get thinner with age, I'm told,

my map gets bigger as life unfolds.

''You, my princess are most precious of all

no need to worry, I'm here when you fall.

You are not perfect, 

I don't think that you should

use mirrors to check that you are good,

understood?''

Originally written in 2009, reworked in 2015

Girl Power!

Although I do cry with both joy and sadness, what baby could also be suffering a mid-life crisis? I am definitely not posh. Although being quite sporty, I have to admit that I am not as youthful or flexible as others and I don't consider myself to be scary. Hmm, except when I do occasionally 'lose it' and chuck clothes from a suitcase all around a hotel room in Istanbul screaming at the top of my voice, ''I don't want to go back to (insert swear word and add an ing) Qatar!'' So, the choice was obvious. Ginger Spice.
By the way, my favourite spice is cinnamon.

Did I google how to create a Union Jack dress on Election day or did I just boldly go where my alter ego took me? Obviously the latter. My super sporty sister-in-law, Kate, had brought two patriotic towels for Ellie and Josh during the Easter holidays of 2014. I wonder how many packets of cereal my poor brother, niece and nephew had had to consume to obtain these practical gifts? The Kellogg's logo is imprinted along one edge of each towel, the British Swimming logo along the opposite one.

Bravely I chose to wear one towel which made it almost as short as the real Geri Halliwell dress. I enlisted Romeo's help to safety pin these two advertising edges together down my back and rear. Sternly warning him not to prick me as I was not in the mood and already excited enough to be dressing up yet again. The four pins were soon in position, black leggings beneath and my reliable black sports bra was conservatively concealing my cleavage. Unlike the real Ginger Spice, I didn't want to draw too much attention to myself. I thought I remained very decent despite the shortness of the towel. Killer heels would no doubt result in some damage so I opted for a more sensible, comfortable pair of sandals. I was ready to step back into the 1990's. The party being ''Baby Spice's'' 30th celebration!

Quick flashback through that key decade of life in my twenties:

1990-1993 Bretton Hall College (BA Hons degree in English with Inter-Arts)
1990- met Romeo which sometimes clashed with a new found spiritual side of Susie
1994- worked as a volunteer on a sailing project in Essex
1995-1997 first job as a Care Assistant for children with head injuries in Bury, Lancs
1997- August 9th married Romeo and moved to Formby, Liverpool (where I was also homesick for six years) and worked as a Teaching Assistant with a deaf pupil
1998- 1999 successfully completed the intense PGCE course and proudly became a Teacher of English. Unfortunately, I cried most days unless I played hockey, sang or danced the stress away

Phew! Back to the future, we're in 2015.

I didn't labour in vain for nothing as I was so comfortable in my costume.  It was a very hot night so the sweat from my armpits was easily absorbed in the United Kingdom. How was the Election progressing I kept thinking? Going to the toilet was no problem either as after washing my hands I could simply dry them on my towel dress and return to the fun. It was too hot to dance which was a bit disappointing although at the recent Adidas themed 40th I went to, (equally comfortable in same leggings and sports bra, a green vest top with a homemade retro adidas logo pinned on the front, denim mini-skirt and trainers) I ecstatically got lost in the music for three or four hours. So I definitely had my dancing fix then. However,''I'll tell you what I want, what I really really want.''

I really, really want to be in this Snow Patrol video from 2011.
www.youtube.com/watch?v=GwTXwJg6_VE

I do feel that I have been called out in the dark just now, as I am enjoying some chats with friends on WhatsApp. It's also helping communications between crisis and dirtbag. Responding to my heart and trusting in timing, I phoned my special friend Arthur (97 years old) hoping to catch him on good form, which thankfully, I did. We talked together again for ten minutes or so and I enjoyed hearing his good humour and tinkly laugh, from across the miles. During his six long years away at war, showing love in action as a soldier fighting for his country, Arthur could only communicate by writing letters to his beloved wife, Betty. When I used to visit him every Wednesday morning, at his request I would read some of these letters aloud to him after he had lost his wife and his eyesight failed. I would always silently cry, trying not to smudge the ink on these lovely, letters of love.

The water sports club held its canoe and raft races with a lot of Hoyle participation and commendable rankings. Romeo came 2nd in the canoe race and 1st in a four-man team in the mixed raft race. Mini-Me and Romeo also came 3rd in the doubles canoe race. I laughed my head off coming 2nd in the ladies canoe race and enjoyed every minute with my super team of ''Wonder Women,'' complete with flapping red capes and sequinned eye masks, struggling into 2nd place for the ladies in the raft race. A definite highlight was all of us singing the chorus to ''I'm Every Woman,''by Chaka Khan or Whitney Houston, over and over again, loudly, as we paddled past a struggling male team.

Please don't be too deceived by the recent photo on Romeo's facebook page. In real life, I'm chubbier and more wrinkly. Mum and I decided long ago that we both look much better when we smile, even though smiling creates more wrinkles. I'm posting a poem next time called Spa Class which I wrote in 2009. Although it's very personal I hope it speaks to you in some positive way.

I've now written 32,418 words of my novel.
I aim to finish this first draft by the end of May.

My heart leaps as I realise I will be coming home again very soon.

''Make it last forever friendship never ends''

Lyrics from Wannabe by the Spice Girls (1996)

Sheik, rattle & roll

We were warmly greeted at Sheik Faisal's Museum for our allotted 1-3 pm time slot and told that, ''Unfortunately, there wasn't a tour guide available today.''
''No problem,'' I said. She then replied, ''You are thirty-five minutes late,'' and I thought, welcome to Hoyle time. The everlong Lucas part of me will always strive to be on time, if not at least a good bit earlier to appointments, parties, hash runs! I do get a bit stressed if I am late for things which, unfortunately, appears to have rubbed off onto Ellie and Josh.
Having walked through the giant wooden doors and across numerous brightly patterned carpets, I wondered if I had Narnia-like entered into the prop department on The Game of Thrones film set. Instantly I think of Jon Snow. I wasn't too impressed with a couple of different wigs I saw (a long blonde one and a black frizzy one) on some vacant mannequins modelling various outfits I would never ever fit into.
''Is this a dagger which I see before me?'' Yes, said the information card next to it. It is a Mogul one with an ivory handle inlaid in gold. A nineteenth Century Sudanese knife nearby is wearing a real crocodile cover on it. I saw a pair of fighting axes and an Ottoman sabre and plenty of guns on show, which practically blew me away. How many weapons does one man need? There were even some English and Scottish arrow heads used in the Crusades on display.
''Let's try and get some spares for the fire engine,'' I suggested as we passed the colourful, Dodge truck collection. We were having some work done on our red one and had kindly been lent a green one for this trip. We had it washed later in Doha while we went shopping and couldn't find it for ages in the car park. It was an enlightening moment when I suddenly realised we were expecting to see a shiny red one instead of a shiny green one.

Le Camping
I really wanted to camp overnight somewhere during the holidays. Due to Ellie's training schedule and Bruce sitting we couldn't go with our friends so had to plan to go solo another night. I nearly was literally by myself. Ellie was at a sleepover so I thought it would be a great opportunity to lure my boys out into the desert. Talk about reluctant. Golf and T.V were controlling their lives and I wasn't having it anymore. Any amount of reasoning, reassuring or tempting seemed to fall on deaf ears. I had to threaten the only alternative.
''Well, if you don't want to come with me, I'll go on my own,'' I said nonchalantly and truly meant it. It seemed to do the trick, leaving me free to go Wild (2014) like Cheryl Strayed some other time in my future.
I was content to think that we could concentrate on just being instead of doing.

I sent Romeo off to the shop to buy some fresh fish, I was planning a Susie Stein outdoor barbecue special. Fish, squirted with lemon juice, sprinkled with herbs, wrapped in foil and cooked over glowing coals. Perfect. I thought it maybe asking too much of the lads to go spear fishing for their supper.
It only took us about three hours to get everything ready and eventually we set off.
Hunting high and low, we finally agreed on a suitable pitch not too far away to be able to access the golf course easily the following morning (it was part of the compromise and anyway it gets too hot to hang around for long).  Romeo expertly erected the 4 man tent (a raft race prize won last year) while Mini-Me and mid-life crisis went for a dip in the sea.
We were camped approximately 7 metres from the rocky shore. As the setting sun soon left us, the beautiful stars came out to dazzle us. Mini-Me was peacefully doing his word search by torchlight until le poisson sans frites was ready. Then after many gooey marshmallows were devoured we sat and chatted. I kept my eyes on the sky and was rewarded at the right time to see a shooting star, for my eyes only. I was ecstatic, of course.
I have to use my wishes wisely as most of my dreams really do come true.

The wind picked up and as we settled down to sleep the tents sides flapped loudly. It sounded like someone shaking a big packet of crisps in your face. Do you remember those crisps that had a little blue packet of salt inside you had to empty and shake, (Smith's Salt 'n' Shake)? That kind of noise but continuous and loud. A fair amount of tossing and turning ensued, but I expected that. We eventually slept and the next time I stirred it was dead calm until, zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzziiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiipppppppppppppppppppppp, followed by a waterfall.
The big light switched on at about 5 am. Mini-Me awoke saying he had slept well. It is wonderful to see this part of the world at first light, pale and water coloured, the colours defining as the sun is rising.

Writing in retrospect I consider how very fortunate we are to be able to camp for fun when so many are currently forced to camp in and around Kathmandu, for survival, and with no homes to return to.


The following is from The Five People You Meet In Heaven by Mitch Albom.

The Blue Man smiled. ''No, Edward. You are here so I can teach you something. All the people you meet here have one thing to teach you.''
Eddie was sceptical. His fists stayed clenched.
''What?'' he said.
''That there are no random acts. That we are all connected. That you can no more separate one life from another than you can separate a breeze from the wind.''