Cast your bread upon the waters....

..and it comes back buttered.
That's what my auntie Margaret used to say, she wasn't really my auntie but I knew her from a little girl, she was always there and I adored her. She was easily 50 years older than me but we were friends. When I was a single mother, with 3 little children we, auntie Margaret and I would go out for jaunts every wednesday, I would drive and she would pay for the petrol and we would laugh like drains the whole day.
I wonder what a sight we must have been, a sad and nervy 27 year old with a crippled and laughing old lady, she was a big woman was auntie Margaret and she loved to feed people, I think I caught something from her because darn it, if I'm not getting more and more like her the older I get!
We would go exploring and always visit places we hadn't been before, we would eat lunch and she would tell me stories of her childhood, charging kids on the street to come and see her dead baby brother, a common occurance back in the day, in the tough streets Auntie Margaret was raised in. Different men who would come in and out of her mother's life, dead babies and horrible abuse. The stuff of novels and epic movies, but every word true. She had experienced things the worst nightmares are made of and she would sit and wipe the tears from her face as they spilled like rivers down her plump cheeks. Then she would laugh about something until she cried again.
She would see homeless people on the streets and take them home, she would feed them and clean them and wash their feet. She would love them to within an inch of their lives and then she would set them out, to start new and prodcutive lives, forever changed because she had taught them what real love was.
She always called these people 'My' My Dave, My Colin, My darlin'.
She never mentioned what she did for people, she would just wink and say " They'll be alright, you see" and usually, they were.
She would say over and over again "cast your bread upon the waters and they come back buttered" and then explain that if you share what you have and do it with real love, you will never be without, she would tell me that if I ever had money and I tried to hold onto it, hoard it, selfishly hide it, I might keep what I had but it would bring nothing but misery. Because I have a mother who has always lived by the same rule, only my mum has never had anything much to share, it wasn't hard for me to know and see the truth of her words and I never have had to think about what to do with my money.
I don't have lots of money but I have enough for all that we need and some for things we want. I feel blessed and I think of Auntie Margaret and I hope she can see that I listened.
I'm not going to say what I do because the right hand should never know what the left is doing. It isn't important, I mention it only because, without fail whenever I do something for someone else, however small, it comes back to me 10 fold.
Sometimes I laugh because darn it if I can't get rid of the small 'extra' I have!
This week has been one of enormous gratitude for me.
The car died and I cried, then I took a deep breath and knew that this was a minor setback, it is a THING for goodness sake, things are always replaceable.
I set about selling the old car and I started a half hearted look for a 'new' one.
I never seem to look for things for long, I decide or am told that I need something and suddenly, there it is..that's what I need, fancy that! The same thing happened with this car. I saw it while trawling through cars online and "That's it!" I saw the price and took a 2nd look and couldn't imagine how I would find that amount but I knew this was the car and knew somehow I would do it.
It was £2, 695. That's a lot of money when you live week to week and manage to squirrel a tiny amount away for an emergency. I went to see it and opened my mouth and the words " I'll have this one" came out. I handed over £700 which was all I had in the world and I walked away with a receipt and a tiny flutter of panic.
I knew this was a good car and I was particularly thrilled to learn that with it, comes a lifetime warranty on the engine, all the expensive bits that go wrong right when you can't afford it for as long as I have the car or until I do a million miles. Sold to the lady with £700 and a huge dollop of faith.
I have almost done it. I hope that by next week it will be paid for.


Shiny, isn't it?

How did we do it? Well I just kept doing what Auntie Margaret told me.
My bread came back buttered and then someone put jam on it.
I'm not saying someone came along and paid it all for us, that isn't the case, although someone did send a generous gift along with all her love and I am hoping beyond hope that she gets her bread back toasted and filled with all things delicious.
H's dad is so generous and he used to help us all the time, since we came back to England and he has been to visit, he has seen that we don't need his help anymore, I love that he knows we are OK, sometimes though he surprises us with his generosity and he really did that this week.
We have budgeted and cut things to the bone to find the money for the car and we have been helped and the most striking thing I feel about this week is that if you feel something is right, if you believe that you can do something, then you should go ahead and try.
I also have a stronger than ever conviction that you should always share what you have, you won't ever suffer if you do that, you won't lie on your death bed and say " Oh I wish I'd held onto my stuff more"
It doesn't have to be a grand gesture, sometimes you will suddenly think of thing and feel so compelled to do it, I remember once, when my sister Julie and I were out in Plymouth, it was the middle of a beautiful hot summer and we were by the sea eating a delicious 'Opal fruits' ice lolly, ice cream covered in real fruity icy. As we walked along, a lady at church popped into my head and I said " M needs one of these!" Julie looked at me and told me I was losing it and I said " No, really, we have to buy one of these and take it to her" So we went and we bought a box of 5 and we drove to this ladies house, she opened the door and I said "Oh M, you are going to think I have lost my mind but I suddenly thought of you when we were eating a lolly and I knew I had to bring you some they are SO GOOD!"
Her eyes filled with tears and then she told us ( have goosepimples just remembering that moment) that she had been having chemotherapy and radiation for breast cancer and she showed us how her whole mouth was filled with sores and ulcers and then she said " My husband has been away on business for 3 days and I have turned my freezer and all my cupboards out trying to find something juicy to eat, I couldn't find anything....you are the answer to my prayers!"
£2 for a box of lollies was the sum of someone's heartfelt prayer. I often imagine if I had ignored that bizarre thought I had..that was no thought, that was the still, small voice of the spirit whispering to me so that I could be the answer to her prayers. The Lord uses other people to answer our prayers whenever He can, He gives us countless opportunities to love one another and to serve each other.
I am so sure that we will be blessed when we do what we can for others, He doesn't want us to go without, He doesn't expect us to suffer in order to help one another but I truly believe He expects us to do what we can with a smile on or faces and love in our hearts.
I am so glad that I am able to share what I have, be it my time, my experience, my substance or my heart. I have been taught well by my parents and by people like Auntie Margaret, by others who come into my life just as I need them, who quickly become so important to me that I can't remember a time when they weren't there.
They help me when I need it and I always promise them that when an opportunity comes my way I will pay it forward and it is always a joy to do just that.
Thankyou.

Because I have been given much...

I had a friend once, who was 50 years my senior, she had had the most terrible childhood, the stuff of real nightmares and yet she was the kindest, funniest most glorious soul, I miss her since she passed away and think of her often, she had a saying, that she lived by and that was 'cast your bread upon the waters and they come back buttered'. She swore that if you share what you have, no matter how little that may be, it will always return to you, twofold, even more.
I knew her from when I was the littlest girl and she, along with my mum always taught me that you never think about whether you CAN help someone, you believe that there is no way you CAN'T help. Everyone is able to help someone else, I know that and I am so grateful that I am often able to do small things that make someone else feel glad to be alive.
I just want to say that always, throughout my life I have been blessed, whatever I may have done for others, Auntie Margaret's saying comes back to me...my bread comes back buttered.
I have such wonderful friends who always seem to know what I need. I am so grateful and humbled by them. This week they out did themselves and I have swung from being so touched and mortalaciously embarrassed, the embarrassment was fleeting because I know why they did what they did, because they love me, I am more warmed and thankful than I am anything else.
I sometimes think I ought to stop putting it all out here for the world to see because they don't let anything slip by unnoticed!
So this is nothing more than a thank you, a public notice and declaration that I love my friends and that I want them to know that I am paying it forward, in any way I am able to do.
Thank you., from me and mine.

I am thankful for my ears...ETA new video with my voice in it!

In our class at church, the 3 year olds and I are learning all about the things we have to be grateful for. There is nothing like spending one hour a week talking to 3 year olds about important things.

Have you ever answered that ridiculous question...would you rather lose your sight or your hearing? For goodness sake what kind of question is that anyway? So I always used to say hearing, I used to think I could cope more without my ears than my eyes. The older I get the more I know that isn't so.

I have great hearing, ultra sharp, I can sometimes hear what my kids are doing when they are in another town. I remember once, when I was married to the first one, he was away on exercise and I was at home, with a baby Dan, I was cleaning and out of the blue I had a clear as day picture of the first one, taking a cigarette from the driver of a truck and lighting up. I heard him say that it was good to smoke after so long. Wow.

When he got home a few days later, he was telling me almost all about his trip and I asked him " so, how was that cigarette?" His face was a picture and of course he asked 'what cigarette?' " Well, the one you asked the driver for, you know, in the truck as you were driving on the way up there"

Priceless, he was spooked for weeks over that one but it still didn't stop him from cheating and it certainly didn't stop him from lying when I asked him about his cheating. Anyway, I digress.

My hearing is keen and every day, wherever I go I gain such pleasure from the things I hear. We all love the birdsong and the babbling of a brook, I enjoythose things too but by far my favourite pastime is to listen to people.

Today I was wandering through Trago Mills, a big warehouse kind of place that makes me sweat and talk to myself a lot but the prices are great and when you gotta go, you gotta go. I was passing through the clothes section and heard two old ladies and one of them said " Oooh lovely, all the youngsters wear those these days don't they?"

I love old ladies and I am perfectly fine that I am going to be one, very sooner than I planned.

As I heard that lady say that I laughed to myself because I think that, 'the youngsters' I hold it in, I know it won't be long before those words escape my mouth and I suspect that it will be something regarding music. Like my Nana. How we used to laugh at her and argue when she would click her teeth and tell us that row doesn't even have a story! She would ask what it was about and tell us how in her day music had a story and you listened to it but you youngsters.....

Sophie tries to change channels in my acr, every time she gets in and I feel so cross and smack her hand away. That channel is the best, Palm 105.5. There see? Never in my whole life have I known the actual numbers on the dial. They play MY kind of music and the boys love it too.

On saturday Eli and I went out in the car together and as we were driving home they played a song that has oft raised the roof in our home. I have played it to wake Sophie up ( which guaranteed her awakening because she says it is THE most annoying song in the world) If the boys are ever down in the dumps, we just sing this song and it'll make them hoot with laughter.

They played it because the singers are due in town, there is going to be a week of terribly English things in a nearby town and these people will be there, along with Morris dancers and cream teas. So the song came on and Eli's face lit up, we turned that volume right up and we sang so loud...and the bit in the chorus where they shout " Ow's your father? Alright?" that's the very best bit. That's how people talk down here, heavenly. I never tire of listening to this accent, I never feel weary with the slow and plodding pace of life, the way you can expect to stand in line for a long time in many shops because people know each other and they care and pretty much, at least once a day you will be sure to hear " How's your father? Alright?"






I am so grateful for my ears because if I never got to hear that little boy singing like that, life would be so much poorer.
I love to hear peoples' voices. I love to hear the things people say. Accents give me joy.
Something else I am grateful for this week is that it would seem something is working, my skin is so much better. I have cut out white bread and have started buying a delicious bread made with oats and seeds, it is SO good, I bought some vitamins that work on the immune system, so I am taking that too. I have been sleeping and not beating myself up about it, when I can't stay awake, I go to bed, who cares what time it is? It is working, I still have welts but not everywhere, smaller patches that don't burn through to my soul anymore.
Hallelujah.

And because I am so kind....a video ( As requested, by little nothings!!) of me, talking, about Snot because I am such a lady.I wanted to catch Setg's delicious old lady giggle, you know that you can guarantee a laugh from a 7 year old if you say snot, right?

I wonder why I am surprised.

Well, what do you know? The landlady says that if we leave before the lease is up, she will charge us £750. INCREDIBLE!
No matter that we have bent over backwards to accommodate her, no matter that she has not kept to ONE part of her legal responsibilities, nothing matters, NOW she wants to stick to the legalities of it all.
When I pointed out that as she hasn't invested our deposit, and as a result of that I am within my rights to go to county court and sue her for my deposit PLUS 3-10 times that amount. Her reply was that I should do my homework because she isn't obligated to invest that money as we became her tenants before that law came out. I pointed out that what the law states is this....once anything in a tenancy agreement changes, ANYTHING,the new law stands, we have had TWO completely new tenancy agreements with this woman. The law stands. She can, I suppose keep £750, if she wants. I can ( and WILL) prove that although she wants to stick with THIS particular clause, she hasn't stuck with any of the others. She hasn't ensured this house is wind and rain proof ( oh look, raining and we have streams running down from the skylights) she has to have had safety checks BEFORE we move in ( not suddenly remember after I ask for the proof that 'oh, yes, they ARE due aren't they?) she has to make sure that this house is in good repair ( oh ha ha ha ha ha) she has to do repairs when we point out what needs doing ( oh, really? When did I write that letter about the bathroom floor? What was her reply? Oh I remember, " don't use the shower then, I turned the shower OFF so you couldn't use it)
The woman is a nightmare and I am ready to stand my ground.
This means that somehow, we have to come up with £750 extra, as well as money to move ( again) I would crumble except my rage is holding me together.
I can't tell you how hard my heart is pounding hours after that conversation with her.
In 3 weeks we will ( I hope and pray ) be out of this house and away from this woman who has had such a hold over us. When you live in someone's house you are, to a degree, at their mercy, if they want you out, you're out, if they sell..you're gone, if they up the rent, what can you do ?
Lately the UK have been bringing in new laws that protect tenants, I am so grateful for that because something tells me we are going to need to bring all those new laws into force here.
But how much better would it have been if she had just wished us well?
Who needs extra stress and bad feeling?
I have no doubts that in the end, we will win whatever fight we have to endure. I am ridiculously anal about taking pictures of before and after, work we have done, problems we encounter are noted and pictures taken every time.
I can get together a veritable dossier of wrong doings and laws broken by this woman...I just wish I didn't have to.
The good news is ( yes, there IS some good news) the agency don't think that any of Bridget's shininigans will affect whether we get the house or not. As long as we can come up with that money £1450 ( well really only £750, the rest is in the bank) they say that their say so and the fact that we have rented with them for so long before will over ride anything she may say. Also, if she were to say that we are poor tenants, she'll look foolish because why has she given us three of her houses? Anyway, I can't worry. I am all out of worry. I have plenty of mad and a who truck load of indignant. I hope that is what we need to get through this.
Anyway if I wanted to worry I would worry about my girl who is living in a room, in a house with a man in his 40's with half his face tattooed, because BLOODY HELL!!!!!
But I'm not even worrying about that because, well it doesn't change anything does it? I can fight her and she'll do as she pleases or I can love her and pray a lot. There, I just called her and she is happy and says she loves living there and she loves me, maybe Mr Tattoo face will be her saving grace, maybe he will turn out to be one of those 'Never judge a book by it's tattooed cover' and I will eat my words and become a mouthpiece for middle aged men with scary faces.
So, worrying is not going to happen, perhaps itching and indigestion, maybe short temper and insomnia, who knows. Plenty of looking forward and lots of positive thinking.
H ..all on his own, without so much as a mention from me, has already called and arranged the TV,phone and internet at the new house. TA DA! Positive, marvellous.
Hoorah.

New day, new car......

Yes folks, Freda the freecycle car is here. ( LOOK! How shiny!)

Also, look, old car still here...it now starts first time and works and everything, wouldn't you just know it?? If only the man who was so keen to have it he clicked BUY IT NOW and then didn't buy it, or pay for it or collect it, would just pay for it and TAKE IT AWAY for heavens sake.

How did she get here? You may well ask. I shall tell you, dear man with enormous heart brought her to me, on his trailer because I took too long to sort out my insurance and now we can't tax the car until my cover note arrives. Never mind, car is in my drive and looking all shiny and undented. Clean and posh looking ( apart from one bit of the dashboard that has sort of curled but H can mend easily enough we hope.) It has music of the most loud and child noise drowning out kind. Music, and radio talking, lights that work inside, locks that actually work and I can even remember how to drive with the manual gears and all. I wish we could drive it but alas until it has that little circular sticker in the windscreen it has to stay on our driveway.

What a treasure that man was, he doesn't know us from Adam, yet he fixed the car, took it to the garage to get MOT'd and then drove 64 miles with it in his trailer to bring it here. He is a diamond and a gentleman.

All together, with the work and the insurance, MOT and Tax, delivery ( although he only charged £20 for petrol, the RAC wanted £200 to bring it here and I pay them a small fortune every month!) it has cost £ 340. More than we imagined at first, it is such a great car though, I have to admit that we all sat in it once it was cleaned and felt a bit smug and grand. When I turned the radio off ( had wanted H to hear how LOUD it goes) we heard a strange noise.....seems it was the Aeriel ( antenna) going back down! Imagine that!

It was too dark by the time it was clean to take pictures so that will have to wait til tomorrow or monday. ( as if by magic....pictures are added.)

It is going to save us a fortune in petrol and running expenses, parts are so cheap and the tax is half the cost of our old jallopy. I am really so grateful.
I will be unbelievably grateful when the novelty of the doors wears off with Isaac, open door, slam door, open door get in, climb over, get out other door, slam, open different door in, slam out slam open shut dear heavens above LEAVE THE DAMN DOORS ALONE! I wonder how many times I will have to show him that with this car, practically brand new for us needs merely a gentle push and it clicks shut....unlike the crap heap that needed a good slam followed by a swift kick ( and sometimes a swear word or 3) to get the doors to shut and stay shut! Shall I tell you that this car has windows that open in the back. *sigh* I do have a window lock though so I can stop that particular trick.

My arm has almost gone down thank goodness. I was in such a state last night, the pain was terrible, I couldn't use it or bend it, couldn't stand my sleeve touching it and it was 3am before I could get comfortable enough to sleep. Today I have various bumps and welts but none that are making me too miserable.

Sophie has found a place to live, it sounds OK, a house share. I have to go into 'ignorance is bliss' mode and let some of this wash over me. I am aware that I am on a knife's edge, I have reached a point where just one more worry, one added stress will be the final straw. My body is revolting, ( shut up!) this holiday is, quite literally what the doctor ordered and I am able to think far enough ahead to see that those few days in the hotel especially are going to be blissful. She is at times so divinely touching and more grateful than she ever was, she was so thankful for tomato soup, cheese and crackers, to lie on the sofa and snooze, have a hot bath....things so often taken for granted. I hate that life has to be so tough for these children who think everything must be a battle. Her friend came with her and this girl really does have nothing, she isn't learning a thing and so she has nowhere to turn for even a night. She sleeps on floors until she pushes her luck and then she finds another floor. Why is it so hard for these children to learn how to be adults? Why can't they just see that following some simple rules makes life so much easier?
I am thankful that even with all her issues, Sophie has manners enough. She is well behaved in many circumstances, in other peoples' homes she knows how to behave ( am I grasping at tiny straws here?) She can so often show the most delightful part of herself and then just as we all begin to enjoy her, she panics and buries that sweet soul underneath the anger and the loudness again.
She says she will be home by 10.30 and wants a good nights sleep. She is going to look after the boys for us so we can go to church. They all have snotty noses and watery eyes, they need some sunshine too.

I collected the tickets today, I called and we did everything to ensure seats together and near the front. I checked the details, I calmed myself as much as I can about the flight. I have the hotel voucher. It is very close and real.
When the trips to and from airports are finalised I can breathe a bit.

So, another day done, time for a bath.....I have a blog topic that I SO want to write, but it's sort of rude. I am torn. Tell me if you want some rudeness in your life. It is actually hysterical and I came upon it quite accidentally which makes it all so much more funny.
Vote in the comments, if you want so read a risque entry and see a side of me you may not have seen, give me a yeay...if you don't want to be disillusioned and know that I am a bit of a naughty one on the sly ....say nay. You'll have to come out of the lurkdoms to let me know...and I'll decide by wednesday.

And on the seventh day......

I love sundays, especially the afternoons. I always dread the mornings because they are so hectic and for some reason the children behave as though we are forcing them to go to some kind of medieval torture chamber rather than a lovely church where they can sing and draw and learn about Jesus.
Today was the day when the children get to present a whole hour of what they have been learning, beautiful songs and little talks, sounds lovely but actually, when you're in charge of running it and putting it all together...it's pretty much on a par with medieval torture.
I had a background place this year, lovely, just sit and sing and flick people on the back when they are lifting their frock over their heads and showing the world their drawers, that kind of thing.
We had a practise which was typically strewn with ' oh never mind, don't worry we'll skip that' -s and it went rather well, trouble was, the kids thought that was IT, hoorah, all done..lets act crazy and GO HOME!
We weeded out the children who were obviously not in the mood for presentations and reverence, Sammy wasn't in the mood and he didn't want to join in, which was sort of OK while he sat quietly in the background, then it became less OK as he became a frog who was leaping from Lily pad to pond ( pew to pew) and then when that was boring and he gave us sound effects, farting ones with the palms of his hands pressed against his mouth and blew HARD, over and over again, I felt it was time to go and get him.
" Hey Sammy, lets go and find mummy"
" Oh, no. thank you"
"Oh yes thank you, farty noises are not good OK? "
So he went with grandma ( my sister) and mummy.

So, time to sit very still and reverently, be ready and read loudly and clearly.
I sat in a corner at the back, just out of reach of Rosie the nose picking frock lifter and Amber the 'I am so going to kiss every kid on my row and hug them and kiss them again even if ( or especially if) they don't like it and yes, I can definitely hear you whispering my name in that 'stop it' kind of way but HA HA you can't REACH ME! '
We have practised this for weeks, til we are all numb the songs and the words and the.....is it over yet??
I thought I was safe but I didn't bargain on two things, 1) The I'm trying to be like Jesus song, and Eli and his face and
b) Jack, who is 5, he is the teeniest little boy with the most ENORMOUS personality and he came out of his mothers womb reading.
I mean this boy can read everything.
The kids all had a little bit to read, a few lines. Jack had 3 PAGES. With words like 'condemnation'.
In the rehearsal, we asked him if he had finished because he stopped for a while, " no, I have THREE PAGES!"
" wow, Jack you are amazing, did mummy write that?"
"No, actually she typed it and then used the printer" because he is very literal.
He stood, on a box and yet still only just came level with the podium thingamejigger, he read in a voice that commands attention and he reads with such expression and puts all his heart into it and I looked out in the congregation to see peoples' faces. We saw everything from astonishment to weeping spiritual emotion. And pride, because Jack's dad? Well, how would you feel if you were Jack's dad ( or mum)? Yes, Jack's dad had the most enormous grin across his face, as well he should.
Jack's mum and dad are also Amber's mum and dad, so it all levelled out because we moved Amber, just ahead a row, so she was next to a lovely elderly teacher instead of some 4 year olds, she was calmer there ( and a tiny bit less visible as she faced backwards and licked the chair.)
So, those 2 things pretty much had me lip quivering and unable to sing anymore because, well isn't this just what life is all about?

We are doing thanksgiving again this year and love to invite people who haven't experienced it before, we have 2 families coming this year, so that makes 5 adults and 9 children, maybe 11 children. Pumpkin pies are made, one family will bring more dessert, the other some nice drinks and we'll do the main course. I enjoy company more and more, not so much having to go anywhere but when people come to us , we love it. Christmas dinner is usually our huge meal but this year we'll be doing it grandpa's way so we'll push the boat out on thursday.
Much to be thankful for this year.

The milk of human kindness.

My faith in mankind has been restored 10 times over today, we went, my H and I to meet the giver of new cars. We met him in a service station and then followed him to his friends house, where the car has been for a while.
We arrived at a smallish house with cars parked outside and found the epitome of 'old boy' In his 60's, rotund, wearing a grubby cardigan over his pot belly, with the obligatory black mongrel barking it's head off beside him.
" 'ere it is me lover! Lovely car that is.... go and have a look, needs new brakes on the back and a new handbrake cable and it'll get through MOT no worries. I can do that for you, whaddya think? Twenty quid? Look at they tyres, new ones see? They'll see you through miles and miles, £20 a week in petrol and you'll get everywhere you want with that lovey......"
He is, this delicious ( or not, bit grubby to eat, but you get my drift) the milk of human kindness, for £20 he is going to fix the brakes, buy the cable ( I will reimburse him of course) take the car to have it's MOT ( My old mate does 'em for me see? Only over the road a way, don't 'ee worry 'bout nothin' lover, I'll get it all done and then you give me your number, when 'ees all done I shall call you and you come and get 'en see?")
I do see, it will be approximately £100 on the road, 4 new tyres, even the spare is a new tyre. It locks and everything, makes that rather posh sounding DING DING noise when the doors are open, has grand lights in the door that light up when you open them. Marvellous.
It has a radio / tape player, imagine MUSIC whilst driving, extraordinary to me that is.
Oh it is black and when we have washed it and scrubbed it, it will be jolly nice indeed. It does have a few bits and bobs that need doing but for goodness sake, what a blessing!
When we got home, guess what...the old car died. Dead as a door nail, gave a huge cough and gave up the ghost. Unbelievable. The angels are watching us and if this car hadn't come our way we would be very very stuffed.
I can use mum's car this week while we wait for Mr kindness himself to 'fix 'en up and call me' This car costs half to tax, does 3 times the miles per gallon, has 46.000 fewer miles on it's clock. The parts for it are so cheap I am almost gobsmacked, in the most delirious way.
I haven't driven a manual car for years, hopefully it is like riding a bike, I never had trouble before, can't see why it will be a problem now. I am so relieved and grateful.

Thankyou Lord.

Every now and again, I will see something that halts time. Just for a second. It will squeeze my heart and my soul will take a picture. Those moments that you want to capture and hold onto and have as yours forever.
This was one of them today.....









Little, still nearly baby legs, in baggy boxer shorts, tinyish feet in loose and droopy socks, on tiptoes waiting for a drink of milk.
My last baby, my last chance to grab these sights that pass too quickly.
These boys laugh at me when ~I exclaim in horror at their getting taller, growing older, losing teeth, discarding nunnies and comforters.
WHAT???? STOP! NO! STOP GROWING! They laugh and stand on tip toes and show me how HUGE they are. And my heart cries a little.
I didn't feel this way with the big kids because my heart knew there would be more. I gloried in the goals and growings of Daniel and Jordan and Sophie ( apart from the day she flatly refused white leather sandals at the age of 7. My heart cried that day because I sing at the sight of little girls in white leather sandals and ankle socks)
This time though, we're done. My baby growing bits are shrivelling as I speak, H's baby giving bits are snipped and safe ( sorry H, TM of your I for the world at large I suspect) No.More.Babies.
I know I will be a Nana and will love every second and I may perhaps ( probably) tell myself that without ME that little dot of perfection wouldn't be here, but I won't e able to look at catch that moment of sheer joy and tell myself that I made that.....look, clever me.
So today I stared at those little legs and feet and hugged the sight to my heart because he is mine. Thankyou Lord.

Nothing short of.....

....a miracle.
I took the first tablet last night, I then slept for 7 hours and when I woke this morning, not a mark, spot, blemish, scratch, welt or itchy bit. None, not one, anywhere not even in my buttcrack, which has been the site of the biggest itch for 3 days and that is not funny even in a blogging kind of way.
I went to sit and open my laptop and thought, " actually I might go and do that kitchen...."
That my dears is REALLY miraculous, since September 15th I have done laundry and that's it, I have walked past ironing piles, dirty dishes, discarded toys, vacuum cleaners, windex, dusters and H as he does it all. I have stood at the bottom of my stairs and wondered if I have the strength to walk up them and then wept because now what?
I went into the kitchen and I scrubbed and washed and wiped. I bleached little boys' filthy stained white socks, I washed some more. If H hadn't already vacuumed and cleaned and tidied the house so beautifully for the last few weeks, I would have done so much more. I even stood in the doorway of the dog pooh ( no pooh at all but can't shake the memory of) /devil's / garden room and wondered what I could do to make it a place belonging to our home instead of a carbuncle on the horizon.
So astounded was I having slept for 7 hours that it was H that noticed first that I was no longer a welty old scratch bag, true to form he just raised his eyebrows after I had replied to his query about how well I slept and said "itching?" and it must have been almost comical to watch as I looked at my arms and legs and then hands and feet, belly and stroking neck and touching head ( that I swear has been the one place to have not even a seconds respite in this whole nightmarish time) declared that " OH SWEET JOY I AM NOT ITCHING ....would you LOOK AT MY CLEAR SKIN???"
I feel beautiful and clean and so grateful to my tweed wearing lady doctor I can scarcely begin to verbalise it.
I have called people and told them and heard many sighs and hoorahs because as much as I have whined and complained and described here about how truly miserable I have been, to have been anywhere near me these past weeks must have made it clearer that I AM SO BLOODY ~MISERABLE~ PLEASE HELP ME.
I took my 2 daytime tablets and have had ( so far) a complete day of still not itching. Seth asked me why I was touching my head earlier if it's not itching and I told him that I am just feeling to convince myself that there really are no wheels or bumps or itching patched.
There aren't.
Maybe I can even colour the grey out in a few days. Colouring my hair makes my head itch, there has been no way I could risk adding anything to my poor scalp that would make matters worse, I have grey roots that must look like a heavenly halo when my hair is pulled back, white hair all over my head. I could grow it out and never have a soul question whether I am really old enough to be a grandma, in fact people would assume my own boys are my grandchildren. Life has made my hair whiter than white. Now I can cover up and convince myself I am a just flipperty jibbet again, even if I am not convincing anyone else!
I am honestly, truly grateful to feel so well. Where's that mountain 'cause I'm ready to move it!

These are a few of my favourite things.......

I am eternally grateful that I gain such enormous joy from the littlest things, my day has been full of joyful moments today.
The house, the new house , yes the new house, no longer the next house, the new one, the gleaming, fresh, sanitary, sparkling, shiny, lustrous, fresh smelling, new house is looking incredible. It smells good too.
Ahem.......I PEED on THE toilet.
Yes I did, I sort of had to hum while I did it, twitching my fingers and banishing all pictures of how it used to look, I also made my sister go first but I did it, all is well, I can live there now.
In fact, when I went back alone this evening, I wanted to live there, to sit in the summer's evening with my brilliant white net curtains billowing in the breeze.
This evening, I had several young people from church come and help and they really DID help, they scrubbed the kitchen cupboards out and cleaned a huge fridge that was so filthy, now it is gleaming and ready to be filled with cooked chicken, cheese strings and fruit juice.
They worked in the garden and dismantled a pool that was there. They cleaned the last window that I couldn't reach and hung a beautiful new curtain for me. They moved a rotten freezer and replaced light bulbs.
We are almost ready to start taking things over there.
H. is going to clean the carpets because stains, fluffy ones and nasty ones, other peoples' stains, ewwwwwwwww.
Actually the thing is, when someone is dirty and they don't clean, it is pretty exciting when someone else comes along and gives it all a good scrubbing because under the filth, it's all brand new, not worn out and threadbare. The carpets are quite good ones, now they have been vacuumed a few times they look pretty nice, when they have been cleaned and smell of kirby shampoo and cleanness, it will be a joy to walk on them.
I spoke to the landlady today, she said she was going over there early tomorrow morning, I wish I could be a fly on the wall because it is unrecognisable to the place she last saw. She said she is taking someone with her and had explained that the house was trashed and filthy.....not anymore it's not. I wonder who she is taking, what's the betting that it's an estate agent to value it and put it up for sale? That seems likely doesn't it?
My sister called this evening to say that her husband ( a landscaper) has a client who owns 25 properties, she is going to ask if he has any houses in our town....oh imagine if we can get a house, with a garden, for long term let.......that will be clean when we move in......oh sweet dreams.
I still haven't taken any pictures, somehow I can't. My landlady knows that I always take before and after pictures so I shan't tell her that I haven't and I am beginning to wish that I had, because words will never describe just how bad that house was.
I think I will wait until we are in, and it looks like home. That seems like the best plan right now. 12 days, we move in 12 days and not a thing is packed yet, actually it is because we didn't unpack most of our stuff when we moved here, hoorah! We won't unpack it this time either, all ready for 3 months time when we do this all over again. When we move out I am not even going to vacuum the next house ( I mean the one we are moving into in 12 days) if we move in and never clean or vacuum before we move out, it will still be 100% cleaner than when we got the keys.
We have done all the cleaning we are doing for this landlady.....twice over.
I hope I can sleep tonight, I am charged up and have been so busy all day that it may take a while to relax and wind down. I had a hot bath and washed my hair as soon as I walked in the door at 9.30 this evening. We were all over there this morning, H has worked so hard outside, the garden will be lovely and great for the boys. We came back at 1pm, all had a nap and then I went back this afternoon and evening. What a blessing to have H and know that I can do these things, the way I want to do them and not have to worry about home or the boys, to know that I will get home and find everything as I would like it, with clean happy boys and H waiting for me. I would feel enormous frustration if I had to be at home while H went out and I had to stay at home. Control freak, that's me!
H is working over here getting ready for saturday, we are ( can you believe how stupid we can be??) hosting a water fun day for a huge group of kids...I think about 30.
3 Pools, from huge to baby, water slides, water bombs, water pistols, hot dogs, ice lollies and FUN. So he is getting this garden ready.....nothing like keeping busy to stop you going mad is there???? PLEASE let it be sunny on saturday.
I am off to lie down and enjoy the feeling of satisfaction that comes from having achieved so much. I shall think of my curtains blowing in that summer breeze, of sweet smelling floors and new beginnings.
It's the little things that make life bearable. Glorious even.

He sent me an angel.

21 years and 11 months ago, I was given my very own angel, he has stepped in and presented his sister with what could be her salvation.
Daniel has given Sophie a live in job at the hotel where he works. She will be a chambermaid, cleaning rooms and helping out, room and board and a pretty good wage on top. She leaves tonight and starts tomorrow.
She is leaving behind all the people who have helped her get this low. She will meet new people but right in the foreground will be her brother. She knows this is her final chance, she knows that brother or not he will sack her without hesitation if she messes up, if she gets involved with the wrong crowd he will have no hesitation in making sure she and they get away with nothing.
This is a huge risk for him and I know he is doing it for me.
I am so proud of this boy and am so grateful that the Lord gave him to me, that he sent him to step in and help Sophie at this time.
Please, please don't let her mess this up.
I have cried until I have puked, I have been almost unable to stand with the weight of this worry. It will be a long time until I can relax but for now at least I can breathe.
I am cooking her a huge roast dinner, letting her have a long hot bath and putting heron a train.
Thankyou Lord, please don't take your eye off this girl..