Out-Laws...

For bold and beautiful Suldog, yes, my father out-law ran himself over in his own car by doing the following:   Dropping my lovely sis-in-law off for her Christmas 'do', he got rather disoriented and lost in a town he doesn't know so well.   Panicking about having to get back to look after his five year old grand-daughter (the man is over 85 and she was sitting peaceably at home with her very capable seventeen year old brother in any case), he drove into an industrial estate where he found a taxi-driver sitting in his stationary car.

He did a lightning manoeuvre to drive up to this man to ask directions before he drove off.   He jumped out of his manual car, not applying the handbrake before getting out, and then slipped on some ice so he was under the back of the car...   Calling to the taxi-driver, while holding the car back as long as he could with one hand, the car proceeded to slowly run over his ankle.

The taxi-driver rang for an ambulance, pushing aside my pa-in-law's stupid insistence that he was all right.   He was many hours in A & E.   I don't know if my sis-in-law left her 'do'.   I'd suspect not.   He was eventually released with bad bruising.   He was in fact very lucky.   He is, and all evidence points to it, an idiot.   Again, we were informed about this accident, rather casually by said sis-in-law, on New Year's Day.   Not when it actually happened.

In similar circumstances, when she was in hospital pending the birth of her daughter - My niece - She had been abandoned by her then-husband, I was anxious for news.   I had to resort to ringing her work-place, to actually find out whether she'd had the baby, or not.   What does that tell you about our state of family affairs, mes bloggy silver birches?!   Hein?

Disfunctional, that's what!

I've very little sympathy for him.   Or even her.   After years of mistreatment at both of their hands.   Christmases ruined.   Accusations and anger - Theirs.   Madness and selfish behaviour - Theirs.   Fulsome neglect of his own grand-son - My son.   And making lots of efforts to put things on some kind of track with them - All mine.   A few years back, I decided to put my own mental health first and I try to be dutiful, but I don't feel anything towards them and their idiocy now.   I don't.   They're not worth it.

Am I bitter?   I was.    I would have wanted some kind of relationship with my nephews, my niece.   I would have wanted to be an aunt to them, like mine were to me...   I valued them so, being an only child.  

Instead, I am a distant auntie.   They have some relationship with my son, admittedly - My nephews at least.    But, even he tired of this family's antics some time ago.   He has both our surnames - My son.   Out and about in life, he chooses mainly to use mine.   He had a magnificent relationship with my father, for which I shall be eternally grateful and thank the stars in the firmament for it.

It is a hard lesson to absorb for a teenager, I fear.   To learn that your grandfather is no hero, but an idiot.   And that your aunt is feckless, self-absorbed and a bit of a waste of time.   I waited for him to form his own opinions on all this - He rarely heard a word from me on the subject.   What he witnessed was enough for his young and fertile mind.

I started to write this post this morning, full of the stuff I have been doing lately, which has kept me from blogging for a time.   Some very positive things that are helping me move along somewhat, after years of treacly grief and 'being strong' for others and neglecting myself.

Maybe I just needed these few moments, to mourn the passing of what might have been with them, and get this bile out of my system...

Sorry but, for listening:

 

Memoir Meme

Please, if you have not already done so, go and check out Scriptor Senex's blog from yesterday, for - Bless him - He was kind enough to pick up the Meme I set on choosing the 4th photo from your fourth album... etc.

I love Scriptor's daily rambles on a variety of subjects, stemming from years of experience and marking life's moments to treasure; His photographs have inspired me to do more to capture my own life's moments in the near future... when I am fully fit again and can tout a camera about!

~ For your perusal today, I have pinched, er selected, another Meme from the pages of Lynne Ede.

The idea being to select only six words that will encapsulate your memoir!

I thought this would be a shorter piece to do, some hope for me, eh?...

I was led to Lynne Ede's Things UK blogspot, by the Maestro, David McMahon via Friday's post of the day nominations and awards. Bless you!

Lynne has some interesting paintings and accounts on her site, and she kindly offers all up for viewing and I hope borrowing, rather than stealing, so I hope this is okay!


If you were to write your memoir, how might you describe your life in so few words?

How would you want to be remembered?


Should you wish to tag along, mes bloggeurs, the Meme instructions are as follows:

1. Write your own six word memoir.

2. Post it on your blog; include a visual illustration if you'd like.

3. Link to the person that tagged you in your post, and to the original post if possible.

4. Tag at least five more blogs with links.

5. Leave a comment on the tagged blogs with an invitation to play!


And, ta-da... The six word memoir I came up with is:

Mad, Bad And Dangerous To Know...... but I know that already 'kind of' belongs to the Byronic Lord Byron, as he was famously described by his one-time paramour, Lady Caroline Lamb.



Lord Byron famously wrote of one of his many lovers,

She walks in beauty, like the night
Of cloudless climes and starry skies;
And all that 's best of dark and bright
Meet in her aspect and her eyes





In this early scandal, which in Byron's life was but one of many, he embarked on a well-publicized affair with the married Lady Caroline Lamb, which shocked the British public. And from la Goddess Wiki: "Byron eventually broke off the relationship, but Lamb never entirely recovered, pursuing him even after he tired of her. She was emotionally disturbed and lost so much weight that Byron cruelly commented to her mother-in-law, his friend Lady Melbourne, that he was "haunted by a skeleton".

I sometimes think David Beckham might one day say the same thing... Ahem!

"She began to call on him at home, sometimes dressed in disguise as a page boy, at a time when such an act could ruin both of them socially. One day, during such a visit, she wrote on a book at his desk, "Remember me!". As a retort, Byron wrote a poem entitled Remember Thee! Remember Thee! which concludes with the line, "Thou false to him, thou fiend to me".

As a child, Byron had seen little of his half-sister Augusta Leigh; in adulthood, he formed a close relationship with her that has been interpreted by some as incestuous".

Byron went on in life to scatter loves and offspring, illegitimate and adopted, throughout Europe, but not before, he courted Lady Caroline's cousin Annabella Milbanke, who refused his first proposal of marriage but later accepted. They married at Seaham Hall, County Durham, on 2 January 1815.

This is a picture of Byron's home, I think, in Venice...



but the hall where they married is not far from my home, and is once more a venue for weddings and conferences - It's a lovely Georgian house, now a hotel, part of some international conglomerate group, Von Essen, which includes Cliveden House, which you might have heard of, where "Guests have included every British monarch since George I as well as Charlie Chaplin, Winston Churchill, Harold Macmillan, President Roosevelt, George Bernard Shaw, John Profumo and Christine Keeler, and many other well-known names from the past and present", but not Lord Byron apparently!

Seaham Hall:



And so as to try (in a really futile way) to out-Braja Braja, here is a pic of the wonderfully tranquil (and hideously expensive!) spa at Seaham Hall:



I might return to Byron's life on another day, for I find that period of literature and art fascinating, and what a way to be remembered as, 'Mad, bad and dangerous to know...' but today I am supposed to be thinking about mine own memoirs from an altogether different era!





The Eighties - A decade of ra-ra and unwearable puffball skirts, footballer's perms

and outrageous shoulder pads!

My early thoughts on this are:

And In Her Mouth An Amethyst...

which was inspired by lyrics in a song by the eighties band, Wang Chung. From the band's own website,

"... the most common explanation of the band's name is that it meant 'perfect pitch', which neatly summarized the tie-in to a Chinese musical philosophy.

It's also sometimes explained as being the sound a guitar makes when you hit the strings down then up, with 'Wang' being the sound on the down stroke, and 'CHUNG' being the sound on the up stroke". Simples...!





Romantically, the vision of being held tightly and swished across a crowded dance floor, for the song from which the lyrics come is called, "Dance Hall Days", was enchanting to me in my youth, and particularly in the summer I spent in France, in Normandy in fact, as au pair to an aristocratic family, who could trace their humble origins back to the Norman Conquests... So, "And in her mouth an amethyst..."

Back to Wiki, this time on amethysts: "The Greeks believed that whoever wore an amethyst or drank from an amethyst cup would not become intoxicated. The word amethyst is derived from the Greek word "amethystos," meaning sober. The gemstone was associated with the god of wine, and it was common to serve wine in Amethyst goblets to prevent overindulgence.

It was also claimed that amethyst had a sobering effect on those "drunk" on love’s passions..."

In crystal therapy, amethyst is considered a stabilizing crystal, has a calming and tranquil influence symbolizing peace. Amethysts can bring on pleasant dreams, and allow you to channel positive universal energy. As a result many people place an amethyst under their pillow before going to sleep at night to enjoy sweet dreams throughout the night".

Little Altars Everywhere

First of all, I must say thankyou so much to (sooo not) Fat, Frumpy and Fifty for the Soulful Blogger award - you are a treasure and this time I am doing 'short and sweet', no Kate Winslet gushing, although I love her dearly - Thank you, FFF, bless you!



Oops, I pressed 'publish' there, I am still not very au fait with the technical stuff here - Is there a Noddy Guide or manual somewhere?


Anyhoo, back to the Edit function... Random thoughts came to me while lying in bed last night following THE ORDEAL... while I was recovering and eventually getting a grip on myself... And the hook for me was three words, Little Altars Everywhere. Here, I am quoting the title of a novel by Rebecca Wells, also author of Divine Secrets of the Ya-Ya Sisterhood, which concerns the beauty and wonder of family relationships, communication and links over time...



For more information on Rebecca's writing please see http://ya-ya.com/about/index

In essence though what I am getting at, and I will get to a point at some point today - hopefully - is that where and how we 'worship', or spend time, or choose not to, is a matter for our own consciences.

For some that takes a secular form while for others it does not...

Some folk believe in the strength of angels, even earth angels, like these ones while others, mainly pagans, still have a belief in the Green Man, whose face even creeps into ancient churches! Still others choose alternative ways or icons to worship!


Some mark a person's life by a roadside shrine as with this one on Corfu, where I first came to understand the powerful pull of 'relative' emotion, (okay, I was pregnant with Grizzler and didn't know it yet, or else I would never have climbed on that motorbike with Gibberjonathan, to escape to the hills, honestly! (The heady smell of Bougainvillae can still make me feel as if I shall scweam and scweam until I am sick!)

It appears to me that when we have the means to pay tribute to others, to thank them for what they do, to remember someone and to show how much you love, loved or admire them, then we need to take those opportunities - However they come - To celebrate the lives we have...

As in these birthday tributes to Elvis

and in these other tributes or memory stores

Whenever I am fortunate enough to be travelling in Europe, I always find time to slip into a church or other space somewhere, to spend some time thinking about loved ones and to light a candle.

I was not born into these faiths, nor do I now consider myself a religious person, and yet the pull of some form of spiritual altar is a powerful one, and my agnostic family tolerates my foibles, in oh so many ways!



I am drawn to the idea of home altars, which cut across many religions, faiths and belief systems, and if I may take the liberty of quoting: "Altars nourish the longings of your heart. Even if you have only a few minutes, you can go to them to pray, or to meditate and to reaffirm your intentions. Altars turn your rooms into sacred spaces and remind you to keep your heart open and your spiritual lines of communication well tuned."

Robin and Michael Mastro Altars of Power and Grace, Balanced Books 2003, p. 39

"...an altar represents a place where you pay homage and respect to what feels holy and divine to you. An altar is simply a reflection of what you hold sacred. Whatever you revere and love, put it in front of you, and that love begets more love. Put altars all around your living and working space. Whether large or small, grand or simple, it does not matter. Simply create spaces that encourage thoughts of divinity and love. That simple act ensures that your space, your home and your life become more divine. Every house a temple, every heart an altar, every human being a divine prophet.”

"Altars can be simple, rustic, portable, ornate, bejewelled, large, small, public or private. There are no rules. The only thing to remember is an altar is simply a reflection of what you love and hold sacred. Frequently, an altar is created from a table, bench, shelf or box. An altar often holds pictures of spiritual leaders and teachers, candles, flowers, incense, statues, fabrics, prayer beads or rosaries, crystals, gemstones, feathers, bowls of water, bells and chimes. Anything you hold precious and honor as divine is an appropriate item to put on your altar. Simply gather a few beloved or inspiring items and place them together so their combined energy makes you feel happy. If this space inspires a thought of joy or love, it has done its job and an altar has begun. May it bring more joy and love to your daily life".

http://www.altarshop.com/home-altars?rs=creatingAnAltar

I did say I would get to my point, didn't I? Well, you know I can ramble, honestly, sometimes it's like "Gullible's Travels" around here...

Anyway, I have come to the conclusion that no matter how many blogs I read, and my list grows ever longer as you can see from the sidebar to the right; (So many fabulous blogs, so little time!)

There are some weird, wacky, wonderful and enchanting people out there with so much to say and give... I am drawn to the conclusion, that our blogs are effectually our 'home altars'.

Upon them we pour out our lives, memories, hearts and souls. ~ And we visit, to pay homage, to spend some time, to lurk, to de-lurk, to think and to laugh, to comment and occasionally to weep...because life's like that. C'est la vie, c'est la guerre!

We post pictures of us, our sons and daughters, our out-laws, our furry (and not so furry-) families, in other words, our favourite things... Sometimes we will draw near and see reflections of ourselves in the firelight, or in the mantleshelf mirror over the fireplace, because fireplaces can be altars for our love of the home, too...

Sometimes someone has got there before us with the hairspray, and you can't see your image reflected back in the hazy glass, and yet you will still think about what the writer has said, and that thought will give you thought...

So you see, little altars everywhere!