Category: The passage of time

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Tending one’s garden

My mum used to love the onset of Spring. Watching ‘old friends’ find the courage to pop their heads above the surface (following months spent shying away from the harsh winter elements) seemed to provide her with a renewed sense of energy and optimism. Indeed, she greeted each flower with the same level of affection that she might have bestowed upon a family member following a prolonged period of absence.

As I looked out of the window this morning (marvelling at the many vestiges of new growth that met my gaze) I was reminded firstly of Mum, but also of the huge responsibility (that we must all shoulder) to look after our world, and to preserve the many wonders that are contained within it. And much like the plants and shrubs that adorn our gardens, our relationships need cultivating too because it is only by furnishing them with care and nourishment that we give them the best possible chance of survival, and the opportunity for future growth.

Put simply, there’s no point in complaining that someone else’s ‘grass is always greener’ if through neglect (wilful, or otherwise) you have allowed your own ‘lawn’ to wither and perish.   

‘Optimal growth’ by Gaynor Hall

I’ll keep you fed and watered, point you gently towards the sun,
I’ll shield you from the harshest winds lest you be overcome.

I’ll provide you with the nourishment that permits your features to shine,
Whilst remembering that your sheen might fade with the inevitable passing of time.

I’ll allow you the room to spread your roots, so you don’t feel as though you are trapped,
I’ll help to preserve your identity, so your spirit will never be sapped.

I’ll lend you support when you need it most, once your limbs become flimsy and frail,
And laugh as our heads gently nod in the breeze and we write the next page of our tale.

And when we’ve finally ‘gone to seed’ and our (once green) leaves have turned yella,
I’ll remember the memories lovingly made and be grateful that you were my fella!

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The Circle of Life

I often wonder what my parents would have thought of our boys, had they lived long enough to meet either of them. I feel fairly confident that Mum and Dad would have enjoyed having the boys to stay from time to time, but I fear that they might have come to relish the prospect of ‘handing them back’ too! Having brought up six children of their own, I also suspect that they might have viewed some of our more challenging parenting chapters as being an appropriate form of karma, secretly quite enjoying some of the (all too familiar) power struggles being played out before them. After all, history seems to have an unfortunate habit of repeating itself – and revenge can be deliciously sweet!

I wonder how much of what follows will sound familiar. In truth, we have only really reached verse 3 so far but (with raging hormones rapidly becoming a regular feature around the house) the remaining ones didn’t take all that much imagination!  

‘The Circle of Life’ by Gaynor Hall

Freddie kept us up all night – he had a bout of colic,
(It was shortly after twenty to one that he embarked upon these frolics)
I paced the kitchen floor for hours, hugging him to my shoulder,
Rubbing his back and stroking his hair as my toes grew steadily colder.

Freddie kept us up all night – his teeth are coming through,
(It was shortly after 2 o’clock that he worked himself into a stew)
I paced his bedroom floor for hours, whilst his gums gnawed into my finger
And in no time at all the dawn had come, with scarcely a moment to linger.

Freddie kept us up all night – his temperature worryingly high,
(It was shortly after 3.00am with no indication why)
He begged us to let him share our bed, and keeping him close did make sense,
But the constant kicking and writhing about left us both feeling terribly tense.

Freddie kept us up all night – he was fretting about his exams,
(He’s had months and months to prepare of course, but now it’s ‘out of his hands’)
He paced the living room floor for hours whilst we tried first to soothe, then cajole
But nothing we said was well-received, so we crawled promptly back to our hole!

Freddie kept us up all night – having gone into town with his mates,
(We studied the clock for hours on end imagining why he was late)
A car pulled up, a door was slammed, before promptly driving away
The remaining extraneous noises merging into the next working day.

Freddie kept us up all night – his wife had gone into labour,
(We tossed and turned ‘til the early hours just hoping for good news to savour)
A healthy boy, tall like his dad, and sporting a strong pair of lungs
Mother and baby both doing fine, and all close relatives rung.

We hear that Freddie’s been up all night – with ‘Junior’ causing a stir
(He’s rather lively apparently, and it’s night-time he seems to prefer)
We’ll pop over in a day or two, kindly cutting the parents some slack
Then later we’ll take full advantage of handing the little one back!

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Write-off or Roadworthy?

Do you ever have one of those weeks where you seem incapable of formulating a coherent sentence, and the simplest of tasks seems to require a gargantuan effort?

Well, that’s me. Right now. Although (if I’m going to be completely honest) it’s been closer to ten days – not that I’m counting, of course!

And so, what better way to draw this period of inertia to a close than to perk oneself up with a dose of humour, propped up by the indomitable scaffolding of verse:

‘The scrap yard can wait!’ by Gaynor Hall

My spark plugs hint at excessive wear,
I’ve got a sticking clutch,
I’ve insufficient fuel to combust –
 Don’t feel like doing much!

My catalytic converter
 Is well and truly clogged,
I’ve sprung a leak (from God knows where)
And my engine is waterlogged.

My tyres are feeling squashy
And my chassis has started to buckle,
My tappets tend to rattle a bit
Each time that I dare to chuckle.

My paintwork has started to look a bit dull
And my brake pads are wearing quite thin,
My cambelt could do with being promptly replaced
And both headlights are ever so dim!

But for as long as my engine ticks over
(Though it be at a purr, not a roar)
I’ll be grateful for roads smooth or bumpy
Keeping laughter and love at the fore.

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Merry Betwixtmas!

Soon after it was released, in 2001, I remember going to see ‘Bridget Jones’s Diary’ with my mum.

Ever since the trailer had first graced our screens, she’d been wanting to go and see it. She’d also mentioned (several times over!) that Renée Zellweger had been required to put on weight in order to assume the title role – talk about going ‘above and beyond’!

As we watched the film together, laughing uncontrollably at the irreverence, chaos and hilarity of it all, I couldn’t help noticing that there were one or two (distinctly unfavourable) similarities between us. Okay, I was still a tiny bit younger than Bridget (with parents who were infinitely nicer and more tactful than hers) but I was single, prone to brief bouts of loneliness, and ‘upsizing’ at an alarming rate – as the large bag of pick ‘n mix (resting upon my ample thighs) would willingly testify!

Some twenty years later, and my life (rather like my appearance) is almost unrecognisable. Happily married with two gorgeous (but unrelentingly energetic) boys, I delight in the simple pleasure of being able to view my feet once more(!) having shrugged off the sedentary lifestyle of my 20s and 30s in favour of two relatively inexpensive commodities – namely, exercise and fresh air.

Having recently re-watched ‘Bridget Jones’s Diary’, I found myself pondering Bridget’s ‘predicament’ from a slightly different perspective. Feelings of sympathy and (dare I say) pity, were less dominant this time around with the many benefits of being a SINK (single income, no kids) coming somewhat tantalisingly to the fore – sitting firmly, as we are, in the period fondly known as Betwixtmas…

For one thing, there’s the opportunity for some wonderfully spontaneous ‘self-gifting’ – not least because your disposable income is not being siphoned off by tweens who’ve apparently ingested an entire party pack of Miracle-Gro for Christmas!

Then there are the lie-ins, pyjama days and leisurely baths that can happen on a whim – and that (all too quickly) assume the scarcity of gold-dust once the ‘ankle-biters’ have arrived upon the scene.

Those profiteroles (enjoyed mid-morning, straight from the serving dish whilst sprawling out on the sofa) hardly fall within the ‘Change4Life’ guidelines either – inconveniently publicised by schools and doctors, with the clear expectation that these principles will be dutifully modelled by parents too.

And don’t get me started on that impromptu lunch date at the trendy new bistro in town – only made feasible because the logistical wizardry associated with arranging childcare (several days in advance) is simply not a consideration here!

They say that ‘the grass is always greener’ – and I do believe that there is a great deal of truth in this – but for the record (and just in case my husband or children ever read this!) I am extremely contented with ‘my lot’ and don’t miss my ‘Bridget’ days one bit. However, I would still urge my SINK (and DINKY) friends (you know who you are!) to enjoy Betwixtmas to the full.

This is your time. Use it wisely!

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Delving into life’s selection box

Way back in 1994, Forrest Gump (aka Tom Hanks) famously stated that his mum had always said that “life was like a box of chocolates” before going on to explain that this was because “you never know what you’re gonna get”.

Fortunately (for the risk averse amongst us) there is that helpful illustrated guide to lead us ever so gently through that all-important selection process, ensuring that we don’t unsuspectingly succumb to a flavour so utterly repugnant, that it all but ruins a Saturday evening’s viewing – perish the thought…

And for those who prefer to dabble in a spot of (confectionary fuelled) Russian roulette, then just be sure to have the number of an out of hours dentist saved into your contacts – just in case you end up falling victim to a rogue toffee or two!

With the festive season rapidly approaching, the subject of ‘Christmas Nibbles’ inevitably came up, with opinion briefly divided as to whether Cadbury’s ‘Heroes’ or Nestlé’s ‘Quality Street’ should take centre stage this year. And (even putting aside the many valid reasons for boycotting Nestlé’s products) it soon became clear that no-one can resist a hero – chocolate or otherwise – and that the chances of any particular variety being left to languish in the bottom of the tub (in our house at least) are extremely slim.

However, it would seem that even ‘heroes’ are capable of falling victim to a slump in popularity, with one or two firm favourites (The Twirl and the Dairy Milk) habitually outranking the humble Éclair – the item purportedly most likely to be consumed as a last resort. Similarly, across a range of opinion polls, the nation has repeatedly spurned the Coconut Éclair in favour of ‘The Purple One’ and the mini-Mars went on to suffer the ultimate ignominy of being deemed the least cause for celebration – and this in spite of being credited with the unique ability to ‘help you work, rest and play’ in the late 1950s!

Talk about falling from grace…

The point is, that (try as we might) we simply can’t avoid the selection (or even rejection) process. Either at work, or in our personal relationships, it is likely that we will have fallen victim to being unceremoniously ‘left on the shelf’ at one stage or another. However, if it has acted as a catalyst for self-evaluation or growth, then perhaps it was not such a bad thing.

So, if you’ve felt the passage of time rather keenly of late (and found yourself somewhat inclined to wallow in self-pity) thank your lucky stars that you don’t have to be a hero, you can live on a street of your choosing and that (with any luck) there’s still cause for celebration.

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