Making music

My kids love music. They love to listen, to play, and to sing. I have always enjoyed music, and dabbled with instruments, but never really mastered one. I can blow into a flute, and play a few notes, even play a tune if I follow some sheet music (after practicing for several days and getting on everyone's nerves). Playing the piano is another matter. I had a thing for the piano for as far back as I can remember. At every opportunity, I would stand or sit at a piano and try to come out with a tune. However I was about 14 before I was able to have some lessons, but I was restricted by the fact that I didn't have a piano to practice on! I would snatch time at school by using the music room pianos during lunch breaks, and play if there were no other students using one, but even when I did get to a piano, I felt self-conscious about the notes I played and tried to play quietly enough that nobody would hear. By the time it got around to a lesson again, I hadn't progressed any further from the week before. I can't imagine how much of a frustration I must have been to my piano teacher!

It didn't stop her trying to boost me (or humiliate me, as she had unitentionally managed to do, on several occasions) by entering me into her periodic concerts, showcasing her pupils' talent and progress. I had started having lessons within a few weeks of one of these shows, which, on this occasion,was held up at the church in Kingston. She taught me how to play the opening bars of Crockets theme: quavers, as I recall, with notes an octave apart, lasting for about 12 bars. I can't remember for sure - I've blocked a lot of the detail out. Being 14 and shy, I was nervous and feeling sick at the thought of playing in front of so many people. At the church, a boy of about 8 or 9 preceded me with some piece of music, probably Bach or something impressive, and been given a rapturous applause. I went to the piano, sat down, and positioned my awkward fingers on the keys. I played my 12 bars, and then stopped. There was stony silence. I looked up to the teacher, who stood there smiling at the audience, and then at me. Those few seconds dragged for an eternity before someone realised that I had finished, and began a polite clap, which was followed by a lethargic patter of applause. I wanted to crawl into the inside of the piano and hide, but instead I stood up and scurried back to my seat, feeling angry and embarrassed. The audience were expecting me to launch into the main theme of the song, but as I had only had a couple of lessons I hadn't learnt that bit, by then, and that was why I stopped. Those listening had no idea! It didn't stop me from learning, though, and I successfully managed to go on to grade 8.

...Actually that bit is a lie...

But I do still play, although I never did learn the rest of the song, and actually I never want to hear Crocket's theme ever again! Now we do have a piano that we're looking afterfor my sister-in-law and her family. I am planning to have some piano lessons with a music teacher I loved to learn with at school, but never seem to have time for. Maybe I will, one day. My kids have no fear or embarrassment over music, they both become engrossed in their playing, and it's lovely to hear their creativity, too. Having said that, I've hidden the symbols and the tambourine from them, to avoid early enthusiastic wake-up calls!

Quiet Time

My Son is poorly. He has been awake half the night, and so were we. He just couldn't settle, and so I have been feeling like doing nothing, today. But that wasn't possible. I was reminded by my daughter's incredulity at my not having planned or provided an endless stream of entertainment for her benefit for today, that I am in fact here to make sure that she has a Good Summer Holiday. I tried reasoning with her. "You can go and do something by yourself, you know. Why don't you draw? Read? Play with your toys? Listen to your talking books? Do some writing?" Each suggestion was met with a squeal and a cross face. OK, I thought. It's going to be A Long Day. In the end, we went to the post office, and then ran a few errands in town before going back home because my son was asleep and I needed to sit down for 5 minutes' rest. My daughter was good, actually. She played on her games console and then tried to teach me how to play one of the games.
I arranged for the two of them to lie on the sofa, watching a bit of CBeebies whilst I made some lunch, allowing them a bit of chilling out time together.
 I asked my daughter to look after her little brother and make sure that he was OK. They gave eachother a big hug, a kiss, then snuggled down on the sofa to watch Something Special. Then we watched Shrek. I don't feel guilty anymore when I use TV for chilling out time, although I used to. We do so much other stuff, including a very healthy dose of running about in fresh air and sunshine, that to have a half day on the sofa for poorly and tired time is just what's needed, once in a while! I know I did well today, because by 8pm I could still hold a conversation, see straight, and felt fairly human and intact. There have been days when I'm so tired I see the world in a parental haze!

Everything Stops For Tea!

I am soooo English. I didn't realise HOW English I was until we started hosting foreign students. Tea, I have discovered, is a way of life for us, and without it - even if you don't even like or drink the stuff - we'd have a hole in our being. In the mornings, I have to flick the kettle on and pour water onto a teabag before I can even begin to think about getting breakfast sorted for the kids. If I haven't got a brew going by the time I am ready to sit at the table, there's something afoot. I realised my English-ness when I asked one of our students if she would "...like a cup of tea...?" It was the way I pronounced the word, "Tea" - said "Teee", I felt almost embarrassed to have heard it said that way, as I'd never noticed before! Needless to say, most of my offers of "Teee" have been turned down in favour of coffee.
OK, I have to admit that for the past 3 years, I haven't had caffeinated tea, preferring rooibus, chamomile, or good old decaff teabags to my old favourite Yorkshire Tea (strong, splash of milk, no sugar), but I began getting frequent migraines when I was pregnant with my son so cut out caffeine which helped a bit. And I don't drink cow's milk anymore, either: my son developed a cow's milk protein allergy when he was 3 months old and as I was breastfeeding him I cut out dairy to help ease his symptoms. Now I can't stand cows milk, cream or yoghurt, and I feel a whole lot better for it, too.
This, you might think, is not English. Rooibus tea with soya milk? What are you thinking?! But it's the ceremony of tea-making, the act of drinking it, and the passion we have for positioning our routines around the drink that makes it a way of life in England. If there are problems to be shared, decisions to be made, revelations to absorb, a gossip or a catch-up, tea is the ever-present, loyal companion. I even remember my St John's ambulance teacher telling me that a "strong cup of tea with two sugars" was a good remedy for shock. As an 11 year-old I had to take her word for it!

Pat hates tea. I think it goes back to his childhood in West London, where he would go to his Indian friend's houses and there would be a pan of tea on the hob, left all day: a teabag, spoonful of sugar and a dash of milk added frequently throughout the day so that the mix would become progressively more stewed as the day went on. On entering the house, he would be expected to take a drink of the tea whether he wanted to or not! I've tried to convert him, but he's a strict coffee man, nowadays...
Today I went to Holmes For Gardens with the kids for a bit of fruit-picking. We stopped in the cafe to give the kids some lunch, but as I wasn't feeling that hungry, I had a cup of tea, instead. I couldn't help but give a little "ahhhhh!" after a sip or two, mostly as I appreciated a chance to have a few minutes' rest before carrying on! As the saying goes, "everything stops for tea"!

Making a reappearance

Well, this is all very familiar...it's been a while and I'd almost forgotten how to use this site!

A number of friends have been asking me if I was going to take this up again, but I'd resisted because I've been rather busy. I've been busy with the kids, the house, hosting foreign language students (which has been a lot of fun!), running and training for a marathon to raise money for Quest4Change - I raised over £1000 for the Villa Maria school in Peru by taking part and completing the Brighton marathon in April. This is one of my proudest achievements and I am planning on taking it further by forging some links between the Villa Maria preschool, and one of the preschools in Swanage.
I am also studying to become a breastfeeding counsellor; and I am embarking on a new business venture which I will write about more when I have got to grips with it all! So to add a photographic blog on top of all this would have required nothing less than superhuman strength on my part to keep on top of everything! Having said that, I do find myself thinking, of an evening, how I should get back into the blogging world again and write about stuff. So here I go again - I don't think I'll manage a daily blog, and I definitely won't be able to provide good quality pics as I can't keep carrying my big camera around with me every day - my little boy is too active and too big for me to cart my DSLR around with me all the time - but I will hopefully write something interesting and occasionally raise a chortle out of you if possilbe! Above all, please enjoy, and come back!

My vegetarian friends may want to ignore this bit - my apologies to you!

I love cooking. I find it very good for working out problems, mulling over decisions, thinking about life in general - it's an almost meditative process for me at times (though bunging some frozen chips in the oven doesn't have the same effect), and one of the best things about cooking for me is listening to a bit of radio 4. Pat can't bear it, but I love it! For me, it's a chance to get a bit of "me time" as I go into my own little world whilst chopping, stirring, mixing or whisking.

Today I made a roast leg of lamb. I have learned how to make gravy, mostly through trial and error (lots of errors, some of which were traumatic for all involved). For me, one of the best things about making gravy is that it's the calm in the middle of the mayhem when cooking a roast. There's a relatively calm bit at the beginning when the meat is prepared and put in the oven, and the vegetables are peeled and chopped; then there is the mad bit where the timings have to be perfect or the whole thing goes badly wrong: but there is the calmness of gravy. My gravy-making involves me stirring and adding the starch water from the potatoes a splash at a time. As I stare at the bubbling liquid and absent-mindedly stir, I become contemplative, reflective. Some of my better ideas have been borne out of making gravy. In some way I view the making of gravy to be a little bit like life: all around there is chaos but to make the gravy is to have a piece of time with which to mull and plan the next step, a chance to be in touch with my Self and to feel the hunger, the desire to continue on my way in life.

Either that, or I need to get out more...!

The 365th Day

Day 365

22 May 2010

It has been a beautiful sunny day, today. Not a cloud in the sky. I knew it was going to be a busy day in the town, because at 10am today there was a steady procession of cars heading into the town. Weekenders, locals, day-trippers. People paving the streets. A trickle of people in and out of the various shops. The aromas of coffee, mixed with seaweed, and chips and vinegar. A town alive with comforting familiarity, the vibrancy of a sea-side town that makes my heart sing and my soul dance to the constant, but subtle changes during the year. So much goes on in this small town, and yet it remains as it has been for as long as I can remember.

Swanage is a unique town. It has a life all of its own. It has survived deep scars from the Second World War, snowstorms, floods, the infamous 1987 hurricane, recessions, to name but a few threats over the years. It was the first example of recycling, thanks to George Burt; it is one of the most popular towns to come to visit on a school trip, and most people I knew before I moved back here knew the town either because of this, or because they have holidayed here. I have never met anyone who has said they disliked the town, but I have met many who have said they wished they could live here. It is a big playground for children; an ideal opportunity for improving fitness (being that it is so hilly), and for exploring either in the waters, on the hills, or in the boutique shops. The children here are delivered a superb standard of education, with a beautiful, idyllic backdrop with which to learn and develop. Don't think that I'm blind to the negative things in this town, but do believe me when I say that I know that life isn't all beach trips after school, or fetes and carnivals, festivals and fireworks. But I don't think that I'd rather be anywhere else in the world than right here with my family, and my friends, in the town I love...and never thought I'd return to, all those years ago as I left for university, when I vowed never to come back here!

Thank you to everyone who has read this blog over the year. I have enjoyed doing it, and I know that some of the photos haven't always been my best, but it's been tricky at times to combine two children with everyday life, work, home, social and the odd curveball into the equation. I intend to post here periodically, but am a bit relieved not to have to come up with something to photograph every day!

Victorian Swanage continues over the weekend.

My daughter offered to make me my breakfast, this morning, for the first time. So cute!

Coffee?

Day 364

21 May 2010

I did some photography work for The Purbeck Deli, today. Here is a sample, showing some lovely coffee beans. I love the aroma of coffee, but I'm not a great fan of the drink. I am a decaf soya latte girl (because I really know how to enjoy myself...), but if I drink caffeinated coffee I get jumpy and restless. Once I had an espresso and I needed to go and lie down for a bit, because I got dizzy and started having palpitations!

Victorian Swanage

Day 363

20 May 2010

Swanage is celebrating the Victorian era, this week, as a tribute to the 125th anniversary of the departure of the first steam train to leave Swanage railway station. Children from St.Mary's first school dressed in Victorian clothes and got to ride on the train. Bill Trite, mayor of Swanage, was also there to join in the fun.

Choo! Choo!

You can probably tell that I prefer photographing people, rather than trains.