MARJORIE ADELAIDE BULLETT (nee Edwards) 23 July 1936 – 20 November 2017 (81 years)

Mother of Paul and Mandy. Grandmother of Natalia and Paulina. Wife of Dick. Sister of Cedric, Terry, Roger, George, Colin and Martin.

I had set myself a goal to write about mum on would have been her 82^nd birthday. I opened mum’s large yellow notebook where she had been writing her memoirs and on the first page read the title “PAGE 34”. I couldn’t help giggling.

There’s something I always say when I meet someone new and it effortlessly clicks from the start as if you’ve known each other all your life. I always say, it’s as if I’ve already read the first five chapters. You know they’re going to be an important part of your life and yet you don’t need to know if you have anything in common to cement the friendship (favourite music, film, book, taste in fashion, food… - the first five chapters). Those things just don’t matter, it fits and that’s it.

So, “page 34”. Mum was a great story teller and any small thing would remind her of some memory from her life and she would tell it to whoever she had in front of her - relative, close friend or complete stranger. She would put accents on and act out the scenes that were always described in multicolour - she was reliving them once more. She had done amateur dramatics when in her late teens and before leaving for Africa. 

In 1958 grandad and grandma left England with 6 of their children and travelled overland to Africa in a converted butcher’s van. The aim was South Africa but when they arrived in Nigeria mum met a widowed engineer 17 years older than her, fell in love and stayed. Paul was born there in 1962.

For years I had tried to encourage her to write down her story or tape it, or type it. Handwriting was her thing.... not a big fan of modern technology (her first Skype will go down in history along with other rare occurrences …. man landing on the moon, for instance). “page 34”… maybe mum was taking me at my word and thought… well Mandy knows at least up to page 33. I will find the rest of it… There is so much to go through in what was her home since 2006. Mum was many things, organised is not one of them. Bits and bobs all over the place. Hence not finding all her notes together. Pages 1 to 33 have gone A.W.O.L.

This finding today has been good for me. For days I have known I wanted to sit down and write this today and thought I want to put a certain photo of mum when she was young, where she looks like a movie star. Saw the CD weeks ago, now I can’t find it. This is my lesson. Don’t do as you usually do - wait until you have all the ingredients you need – wing it. When the CD appears, write another blog.

In 2016 she decided to set to work and tell her story and started writing every day. I suggested that there was no need to write in chronological order but to just write when she remembered a story or event. Write at the top how old she was or the year if she could remember and we would order it later. Anyway, she found her way. I will type up all she wrote and share it with you.

Without looking at her notes I wanted to write about the woman I knew. I feel that even if mum wasn’t a well-known celebrity, like many people she lived through extraordinary times in history, many changes in our society especially for women and lived extraordinary moments which made her who she was and influenced the way she brought us up and the way she faced life’s challenges and joys. She left her mark on all those who knew her and that's her legacy.

After she died I received many messages from my cousins (Edwards’ family), there are quite a few of us spread around the world – and all said they wished they could have known her. I wanted to make a note of the little details for her granddaughters especially; the youngest is only 6. So here are a few facts in no particular order:

Mum was a mother with a capital M. Warm, nurturing, caring and welcoming. She was a home maker - she loved her home.

If you called unexpectedly you would be invited in and within five minutes she’d be making scones and tea. Only after the visit was over would she feel guilty about the state of the untidy house or that she’d been in dirty clothes and hadn’t brushed her hair since morning. Mum never left the house without her lippy on. Even if she was in scruffy clothes cutting the hedge in the garden.

Mum was not a regular church goer but she didn’t believe you should hang washing out on Sunday, for example. She had been a member of the Women's Institute and the Mothers' Union in the UK and she would go to the small Methodist chapel because I believe they sang more hymns.

She believed that if a man hit you it would only be once, you shouldn’t accept it and you should just walk out.

Everything and everybody had a story to tell. Every picture or nick-knack in the house has a label on the back with where, when, who.

She was a great cook. She loved food, trying out new dishes, swapping recipes, cooking a meal for someone she knew wasn’t well, or had just arrived back from a long journey, or just because she felt like it. She knew the British classics, but from living in Nigeria picked up Chinese, Indian, African, and from living in Mallorca picked up the local dishes. Always guided by what the locals ate, as she felt this was more economical and it was best to eat locally grown produce and to follow the seasons. She liked simple food best. She did drink a little wine occasionally but usually stuck to still water.

I have found recipes written on any scrap of paper. 

She loved music and always had the radio on or music playing. Dad was like that also. Classical, opera, country, pop music, etc. She took guitar lessons in Mallorca. Even when we were small mum and dad took us to the theatre, concerts and ballets. I remember being about 4 and seeing Madam Butterfly. Unfortunately dad had two left feet so dancing was not on the cards.

In 1979 when we had to leave Mallorca, because of the world financial crisis, mum decided she wanted to have a wool shop; she started running it then than left his work in Nigeria and joined us. So until 1992, they successfully ran “Mandy’s wool shop” in Aylesbury, UK.

She was a lady in every sense and always had a handkerchief, small white embroidered ones. I have found many while sorting. In old handbags, coats, jackets, trousers. When she was young she could have been a model, she was 5’7” and 36” 26” 36”. In the 1950’s women were curvy.

When she was young, she had long thick hair she could sit on and which she tucked away in a French pleat. After marrying dad and settling to live in Nigeria, the heat meant she always wore her French pleat and one night before a party dad walked in on her cutting her hair short.

Mum was only 57 when dad died of a heart attack. They had been married for 34 years and had sold the shop the year before. Dad was sure she would re-marry but she didn’t find anyone else nor did she go looking. She always spoke very highly of dad. He was a good man and had treated her with respect and always put his family first.

She knew how to sew (self-taught, though grandma Hamilton was an influence)… she made most of her clothes – made her wedding dress and the dress grandma wore that day as well. I still have her Vogue and McCalls patterns from the early 1960s – I couldn’t part with them. So feminine. Mum was very feminine. She made our clothes when we were kids and knitted as well as embroidery (the house is full of her tapestry pictures and cushions). I remember one Christmas when I was about 6, they bought me a doll with a pram, mum made me covers and sheets for the pram and the doll and me had matching clothes!

She liked painting. Especially water colours. Usually something from nature or she saw a nice picture and decided to copy it and paint it. She went to some lessons when she was already retired. She loved poetry and reading a good book. She always read when she went to bed – even if only two lines.

Because of her humble upbringing and being brought up on a farm, she could put her hand to anything. She’d always have a go. She didn’t mind getting her hands dirty. Dad was always a handy man. He had been a carpenter’s apprentice. But if there was painting and decorating to be done, mum was in charge. Hanging wallpaper and painting furniture. Actually, as a family we rarely call someone in, unless it’s major plumbing or electrical… we tend to do it ourselves. Initially to save money but also we enjoy it!

Brought up with a gang of brothers, she loved being a girl but would also play cricket and rounders with the lads and she could run fast. She loved watching sports. Rugby was a great favourite. 

She loved a good joke and she kept a notebook with all the jokes she heard. 

She cared greatly for her family but always supported us (Paul and me) when we decided to leave the UK and go to work abroad. She recognised the need for us to make our own lives as did dad.

Picture of mum on her 81st birthday 23 July 2017... when all seemed to be going well. Building up her iron count with a good steak!

Mum was diagnosed with leukaemia in April 2017 and received chemotherapy treatment at home – I would administer it – the first time we both cried. Me for injecting it in to my mother and she for having arrived at that situation. All was going brilliantly and she responded to treatment until a bone marrow test in late August revealed the cancer cells were increasing and a new stronger treatment would have to start. At the end of the first cycle of the new treatment and with no warning or time to plan, she caught an infection as she had zero defences and within hours of arriving in hospital she was delirious with fever so no communication possible for at least the 1^st week, she was in hospital for 3 weeks. We thought we would lose her then, but on 23 October she was discharged and came home to my flat – she couldn’t go back to her house – she was very weak and said it was her time to go – we spoke openly about death and her wishes. I do believe she didn’t die in order to be able to say goodbye and to prepare. I spent hours trying to find the dress she wanted to wear in the coffin – I found it after the funeral. Thankfully, she had said to me, it doesn’t matter, whatever you choose will be fine.

On 8 November she went into our local hospital in Manacor and died there on 20 November. She was cremated on the 21^st and we held a funeral in the local church on 28 November.

Picture painted on plywood by mum of a bunch of wild flowers I'd brought home from a walk.

Mum loved nature. Brought up on a farm with a few milking cows, animals and nature were always a big part of her life. She loved going for walks. She used to recall when she was young how she would take the dogs out for a long walk in the moonlight, no torch or street lights just walking over the hills. She knew the names of many trees, plants, herbs, flowers, etc. She could name a tree even in winter with no leaves, just by the shape of it. When we lived in Norfolk we loved going to visit the stately homes in summer mainly because of the landscaped gardens. She liked the sea but was not a beach person. She was a country girl at heart.

Animal lover. She was never without a pet. We are a dog family, we’ve even cared for friends and neighbours’ dogs. But when she died she had 5 pet cats and 5 kittens who had been born in the patio to a wild cat. She had rescued birds and hedgehogs in England. She hated bull fighting and couldn’t abide animal cruelty.

She loved history and art. On a cold winter’s day in Mallorca, we would look at each other and say… let’s get lost in “Pride and Prejudice” for a few hours. Mum never went back to England or travelled outside Mallorca from the time she bought the house here in 2006. She said she didn’t want to. Though on a really hot summer’s day she missed the English summers, especially the greenery – here everything is parched by July. She missed the English countryside and animals.

She told me one of the happiest days of her life was her 80^th birthday (2016) when I took her to work and she met my boss, Rafa Nadal. She was over the moon for days and carried with her a copy of the photo I took of them to show to everyone. 

We laughed a lot and had some favourtie lines we'd quote on particular occasions:

"I bet George Clooner doesn't have these problems" when we were up to our ears decorating.

"A blind man would be glad to see it" mum would always say this when my perfectionism crept out.

"Does she care for olives" a line from the film of Jane Austen's "Sense and Sensibility". Get the DVDs out and let's get our British fix.

"Would that I could see myself as others do"

"There but for the grace of God, go I", when seeing some poor unfurtunate person.

"God grant me the grace to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can and the wisdom to know the difference". Quoted on many occasions

There is so much more to tell. Above all she was a good friend, we had many things in common and a balanced sense of what is right, good ad wonderful in this world. 

THE LIFE OF A KILO OF EXCESS WEIGHT

It is said that there is the same amount of water on this planet as there was when it was created. All that happens is it gets recycled, displaced, redistributed around the globe. A drop could be in your body, then five years later the same drop could be trickling down a mountain stream.

So following on from this fact, my theory is that there is a finite number of kilos of excess weight (KEW) out there, ok... I’ve got some, just in case you’re counting…, but they’re out there… they move around invisible to the naked eye, until one morning you try to fasten those trousers and “where the hell did that come from?”

Evidence. How many times have you found that within your peer group or family, colleagues at work, someone loses weight and someone at the same time, coincidentally puts on weight? A few days ago, one of my uncles came to visit, he noted how well my mum looked, how she’d lost weight, and actually he’s gained a few pounds. Proof.

The species kilo of excess weight is parasitic in nature, it needs to feed off someone. So when someone starts a diet or exercise routine or just begins to think twice about eating that cream cake… they need to start looking around for another host body. Obviously like all of us, they don’t like house moves, so they try and make a good choice, so they can stay put for years and make themselves quite at home. They chose women first, because we’re caring and homely and comfy and we feel sorry for the poor bastards and welcome them with open arms.

They also know where to place themselves on your body, discreetly at first in all the right places, and we get away with thinking we’re curvaceous and sexy and after all look at the greatest sex symbols…. Not thin, not square but fuller figures, curves. Men, well, they start calling it a six pack, and muscle and when they take their shirt off it is plainly obvious that it’s not a six pack anymore but a barrel.

So, now you have an explanation for the ease of losing weight when first you start dieting or exercising, it’s like rats leaving a sinking ship. Then you hit the wall, difficulty in shifting those last few KEWs… they’ve been with you so long, they don’t want to leave, they’ve been here before, when you’ve done countless other diets. Remember, it’s not your inner voice that says “go on, just one little biscuit isn’t going to hurt”… it’s them, the KEWs trying to hold on for dear life. 

MY BAGUETTE HAS GONE COLD

Went to the supermarket and as you’re at the till paying your bill, the smell of the freshly baked bread tempts you… God help you if you’re in a queue! By the time you get to the bakery counter you want them to serve you the butter, the cream cheese with herbs…

Anyway, I was tempted so I bought a nice crispy baguette. It was still hot from the oven…mmm

I am going to spoil a myth here… you may think we walk around here (Mallorca) in our espadrilles and white muslin. That when we want freshly baked bread, we leave our sunkissed poolside and stroll down to our little “panaderia” (bakery) on the corner wearing a sarong over our thongs and flowery flip flops and ask for a “barra” (baguette)  baked in ye olde traditional wood oven. OK… this is possible and true… for a small minority who happen to have flowery flip flops! And yes, in the village I live in, just down the road there is a bakery with traditional wood oven… actually we have more than one bakery in the village. After hot summer nights  you are woken up by the smell of freshly baked bread, croissants, cakes, and the rest… wafting through your open windows.  In fact, many old village houses have their own wood oven outside in their yards, mum’s house has. We can’t use it though, as we have 6 large gas bottles (hot water and heating) standing next to it. That’s another great story…

The gas man, a large jovial gentleman, food lover obviously (“of course you can light the oven,”), his young apprentice (shocked), me and my mum (“we’d love to… but you’re invited… if we’re going up, you’re coming with us!!”)… we of course opted for safety first! And so, we’re still here!

Dispelling the myth, the bakery in the supermarket, cooks from frozen. However, the smell is still as tempting and when you’re busy and don’t live in a quaint little village, you make do with what you’ve got and be thankful.

I usually do my weekly shop with my mum and then end up back at her house either for lunch or dinner… barra getting colder by the hour… I’ve never been one to break a bit off and eat whilst I’m pushing the trolley and by the time I get home, it’s cold… doesn’t have that tempting smell … doesn’t say … eat me, I’m gorgeous…. I look at it and think… I’ll have to heat it up to get it crunchy again… but it’s never as good.

The moral of this story is… don’t let your baguette go cold… get tempted and buy it and eat it there and then, make the most of the moment, take it all in, in all its glory… you don’t need to have the sunkissed pool or flowery flip flops… we all love freshly baked bread because we eat it freshly baked… not 5 hours later. The moral is… seize the moment.

I am reminded of something the novelist Jane Austen said, “why not seize the pleasure at once?  How often is happiness destroyed by preparation, foolish preparation!”

Home

HOME

Versión española abajo

Home: 1. The place where one lives permanently. 2. A place where something flourishes or from which it originated.

I have been on the move again, one year after my last move. Many of my friends are also on the move, by choice or just life circumstances.

In my 47 years I have lived in 14 different homes in 2 different countries. I have only gone beyond the decade barrier once, by one year. If you count stays in homes for longer than what would be considered a holiday (2 wks) then… add 2 or 3 more and another country, Nigeria, Africa. Looking at the number and my age it does actually seem like a lot! However, when I look at my family background it doesn’t surprise me. It has also shaped the person I am and can’t be a bad thing… although some of the experiences have not been brilliant and left a scar.

There is a difference between a house and a home. One is a solid object, the other an essence a reality at a certain point in your life. Often, for years after we’ve left our parents home and set up on our own with our own family, when we speak of “home” we refer to our parents’ home. The nest and all which that means – somewhere where I can be myself, not be judged, be forgiven, be loved unconditionally, be nurtured, be fed, find a bed and comfy slippers, be safe, be surrounded by memories of our lives when they were more simple.

In a world where circumstances change so quickly, we are not only moving house more often in a lifetime, but also moving away from our family and our community which identifies us. All of this brings great insecurity to some. If the change cannot be avoided then we must adapt and as humans it is said we are good at that! Think of our ancestors… hunter gatherers moving overland to different hunting grounds throughout the year. We have within us the skills to adapt to new environments. We need to rediscover those skills… these will show us that home is not found in material objects or four walls that surround us.

So, what is home? There is a song that goes, “wherever I lay my hat that’s my home” and that is fairly true. After all, a house does not make a home it is the people living in it. And sometimes you live in a palace and feel more at home walking in a forest, sometimes just being with a certain someone makes you feel at home, that no  matter what happens – good or bad – all will be as it should be, because they are with you. Be yourself at all times,  feel centred, be happy with who you are, wherever you are, this is what gives us the confidence to face any change and challenge.

Let’s visualize ourselves  as a house. Do we have the sofa in the right place, how much space have we left to breath and relax, or have we cluttered up every inch and feel asphyxiated? Where’s our favorite corner? Are we the comfortable lazy sofa, the sizzling hot cooker, the icecold freezer or the overactive flushing toilet?!

The media forces images on us of what is a “perfect home” which comes with “perfect everything”. We may copy other people’s home but in the end we will have to accept who we are, with unused rooms, unread books, bulging wardrobes and rubbish to be thrown out  – not even going to talk about rising damp, clogged drains, subsidence and empty loft space.

Of course you can always improve by a bit of DIY, new furniture, new curtains, open plan but you will still be a 47 year old home… so glory in that wonder and individuality. Look at yourself in that internal mirror and say – wow, a fine specimen, the result of millions of years of evolution and moving home. I’m amazing, I’ve filled my house with self-assembly furniture - flat pack is the way to go for someone on the move - I also have some comfy slippers, hot cup of coco, warm blanket to wrap around that special someone I want to let in to my home … remind me to open the door  when they come calling !

Once we have sorted our inner home we will feel at home anywhere. If not, you will carry on looking for that something to make you feel at home. Remember, it’s not out there.

Be yourself at all times, accept who you are and your circumstances right now. This doesn’t mean giving up a dream or sinking into despair but acceptance of the reality of today means you can take one step forward towards that dream – don’t dwell on what you had yesterday.

ESPAÑOL

HOGAR

Hogar: 1. El lugar donde se vive de forma permanente. 2. Un lugar donde algo florece o desde el que se originó.

Me he mudado de nuevo, un año después de mi última mudanza. Muchos de mis amigos se han mudado, por elección propia o no.

En mis 47 años he vivido en 14 casas diferentes en 2 países diferentes. Sólo he ido más allá de la barrera de diez años una vez, por un año. Si se cuentan las estancias en casas de más de lo que se consideran vacaciones (2 semanas) pues ... añade 2 o 3 más y otro país, Nigeria, África. Teniendo en cuenta la cantidad y mi edad realmente parece mucho! Sin embargo, cuando miro a mi entorno familiar no me sorprende. Ha formado también a la persona que soy y no puede ser mala cosa ... aunque algunas de las experiencias no han sido brillantes y dejaron cicatriz.

Hay una diferencia entre una casa y un hogar. Uno se trata de un objeto sólido, el otro una esencia una realidad en un determinado momento de tu vida. A menudo, durante años después de que dejamos el hogar de nuestros padres y establecemos nuestro hogar con nuestra propia familia, cuando hablamos de "hogar" nos referimos a la casa de nuestros padres. El nido y todo lo que eso significa – el lugar donde podemos ser nosotros mismos, no ser juzgados, ser perdonados, ser amados incondicionalmente, ser nutridos, ser alimentado, encontrar una cama y zapatillas cómodas, estar a salvo, estar rodeado de recuerdos de nuestras vidas cuando eran más sencillas.

En un mundo en el que las circunstancias cambian tan rápidamente, no sólo nos mudamos más a menudo en la vida, sino que también nos alejamos de nuestra familia y nuestra comunidad y lo que nos identifica. Todo esto trae una gran inseguridad para algunos. Si el cambio no se puede evitar, entonces debemos adaptarnos y dicen que eso es algo que los humanos hacen bien.  Piensa en nuestros antepasados ​​cazadores-recolectores ... moviéndose por tierra a diferentes zonas de caza durante todo el año. Tenemos dentro de nosotros la capacidad de adaptación a nuevos entornos. Necesitamos redescubrir esas habilidades ... estos nos mostrarán que el hogar no se encuentra en los objetos materiales o cuatro paredes que nos rodean.

Entonces, ¿Qué es hogar o casa? Hay una canción que dice: "Dondequiera que ponga mi sombrero esa es mi casa" y eso es bastante cierto. Después de todo, la casa no hace el hogar, es la gente que vive en ella. Puedes vivir en una casa de lujo y sentir te mas en casa caminando por un bosque. A veces solo con estar con esa cierta persona te hace sentir en casa, que pase lo que pase, bueno o malo, todo será como tiene que ser, por que estan contigo. Se tu mismo en todo momento, siente te centrado en todo momento, se feliz con quien eres, esto te da la confianza de enfrentarte a cualquier cambio o reto.

Vamos a visualizar nos como una casa ¿Tenemos el sofá en el lugar correcto, cuánto espacio nos queda para respirar y relajar, o hemos abarrotado cada centímetro y nos sentimos asfixiados? ¿Dónde tienes el rincón favorito? ¿Somos el cómodo y perezoso sofá, la abrasadora cocina, el congelador o el hiperactivo inodoro?!!

Las imágenes de los medios sobre nosotros vendiendo lo que es un "hogar ideal", que viene con "todo perfecto". Podemos copiar el hogar de otras personas, pero al final vamos a tener que aceptar lo que somos, con habitaciones no utilizadas, libros sin leer, armarios repletos y basura para tirar - ni siquiera vamos a hablar de la humedad, desagües tapados, hundimiento y altillos vacios.

Por supuesto, siempre se puede mejorar con un poco de bricolaje, muebles nuevos, cortinas nuevas, espacios abiertos, pero seguirás siendo una antigua casa de 47 años ... así que disfruta en esa maravilla y la individualidad. Mírate en el espejo interior y dite - wow, un hermoso ejemplar, el resultado de millones de años de evolución y de cambios de casa. Estoy increíble, he llenado mi casa con muebles de auto-ensamblaje – el flat-pack es el camino a seguir para alguien que se desplaza a menudo.  También tengo unas zapatillas cómodas, taza de chocolate, una manta para envolver a esa persona especial que quiero dejar entrar  en mi casa ... recordad me de dejarlos entrar cuando suene el timbre de la puerta!

Una vez que hemos ordenado nuestra casa interior nos sentimos en casa en cualquier lugar, si no, seguiremos buscando ese algo para estar a gusto en casa, recuerda que no lo encontraras fuera.

Sé tú mismo en todo momento, aceptar lo que eres y sus circunstancias en este momento. Esto no significa renunciar a un sueño o hundirse en la desesperación, pero la aceptación de la realidad de hoy significa que puedes dar un paso adelante hacia ese sueño - no pensar en lo que tenías ayer o llorar sobre la leche derramada, como dice el refrán .

All inclusive... todo incluido

(traducción al Castellano abajo)

Inspired by the line …”life – it’s nothing like the brochure” and the fact I live in Mallorca and work in tourism and that a gentleman I know had just reached retirement age.

Life… you see the brochure and you sign up for the ALL INCLUSIVE DEAL.

The arrival at the destination is a bit rough and the welcome pat on the back from the driver is somewhat over enthusiastic, but then any doubts you have are calmed when they place the all-inclusive tag around your ankle and the free goodies start coming.

The staff are so friendly and always smiling and can’t seem to do enough for you… constant attention, all your requests are met, even if you shout and scream and don’t say “please” or “thank you”, presents every minute for no reason… the inclusive deal really is GREAT… free food, drink, and entertainment and the staff go beyond the call of duty and even provide a nappy changing service. So, you sit back and enjoy the ride. Life is great.

Then some crazy tour rep decides what you REALLY want is a pro-active holiday… and learn to do some stuff yourself. Ok, you think, by now the menu was becoming limited and some of the novelty value has worn off so, something new to distract. Fine. You join in and learn to read and write and count. Soon things begin to add up and you realize you should have read the small print as quite rapidly in to your enjoyment of the product “life” the staff become unreliable, lazy, absent at times and demand something from you in exchange. Soon just being cute and cuddly doesn’t sell. You have to say “please” and “thank you” and getting response from the staff relies on some bizarre kind of points system which depends highly on whether the staff have had their holiday, their chocolate, their kiss or that another member of staff has stopped noticing they exist! As the result of this points system is unreliable you decide to just ask, take a shot in the dark and hope for the best – this custom will stand you in good stead in the future. At this first introduction to the points system you are young and innocent, but this game will come back to haunt you!!

So, your cute and cuddly phase is over, and you start doing many things yourself or paying someone to do them for you. Then you discover that you can get paid for doing things for other people, although very often this doesn’t quite balance out and you begin to think it’s all a conspiracy and that you were not taught to add up correctly, and that in fact 2 plus 2 has been minus 5 all along. You ‘re just never going to add up enough bonus points to access the exclusive deals advertised in the brochure.

Then when you’ve got used to the bland buffet menu, the boring day trips, when all you have is a distant memory back to those all inclusive free days of your youth… you notice that some of those companions from the bus trip down to the resort are smiling and seem to be spending a lot of time in the company of other guests and a lot of time in their rooms. You begin to hear the rumor of a special deal… not in the official brochure… but some shady guy in dark glasses tells you about it. This should be a warning to you but still, this has now become an adventure holiday! You know you need something, and this seems to have it all. Lights, camera, action.

The deal is that you can find someone who is willing to share in those things you have to do yourself. What’s more… some of the fun stuff, special menus and surprise treats. Great! This is too tempting… yes some older guests start warning about the hidden costs and the points system… but you weigh up the negative and the positive and there’s no competition. Anyway, the older guests are probably in on a conspiracy to keep you away from all this exclusive package deal of – a great life!! It must be that good that they want it all for themselves.

So, you jump in head first. Soon you’re having lobster and champagne every day and as much cream as you like, no questions asked, no points system, wherever and whenever… no bland buffet and at no extra cost… life really is great fun! And with a smile on your face you happily accept the one or two uninvited guests for dinner – why not, the more the merrier! and they’ve also got their all inclusive tags… you’re part of a team at last… you happily do things for them free of charge: food, drink, entertainment and nappy changing service …

Soon you get only ¼ of the lobster and no champagne and the points system is being applied to the cream supply, and sometimes even has armed guards around it. On some occasions, access to the cream supply requires special code breaking skills, pressing buttons in a certain order , but the code changes from day to day and pretty soon the phrase… don’t bother I’ll do it myself… yes, self-service is once again on the menu.

This is only the start. It’s not long before it’s back to the bland buffet for you, count yourself lucky if you get a juicy peach for dessert. Back to the boring day trips and bingo by the pool with a blanket over your knees and the staff begin to feel sorry for you. The hidden costs of the special deal begin to mount, and you still haven’t got the hang of adding up because it’s not minus 5 anymore, it’s now minus 20. What’s more there are no fringe benefits and any decisions are out of your control… all of which makes the conspiracy theory pretty plausible.

The great deal that was sold to you seems to have some major flaws and other great offers are taken off the all inclusive deal and are to be enjoyed once a month or when you’ve accumulated bonus points in the System. Sometimes, the offers and exclusive treats are only available at birthdays, Xmas and as time goes by you have to be satisfied with just a memory.Then people around you begin to say, “that’s life” and “I remember when” and “it’s the circle of life” and “shit happens!”

The good thing is you can tell everyone how much lobster and champagne you had and that your lobster was bigger and that they don’t make them like they used to. What’s more… the cream… ahhhh the cream… when you were young… here, there and everywhere… endless supplies, and none of your low fat stuff. You begin to enjoy the conspiracy, the simple joys of life.. laughing at other fools who are making the same choices you made… blindly signing up for the “not in the brochure” special deals and diving in head first!

FOR THE SPANISH SPEAKERS

Inspirado en la línea... "la vida  – no es nada como el folleto" y el hecho de que vivo en Mallorca y trabajo en turismo y que un caballero que conozco ha alcanzado la edad de jubilación.

La vida... ves el folleto y te suscribes al TODO INCLUIDO.

La llegada en el destino es un poco brusco y el conductor se pasa un pelin con la palmadita de bienvenida en la espalda, pero luego cualquier duda que tienes desaparece cuando te ponen la pulsera de "todo incluido" alrededor del tobillo y las cosas buenas empiezan a venir.

El personal es tan amable y siempre sonriente y no pueden hacer lo suficiente para ti... una atención constante, se cumplen todas tus solicitudes, incluso gritando y sin decir "por favor" ni "gracias", regalos cada minuto sin ninguna razón... realmente maravilloso... todo gratis, la comida, la bebida y entretenimiento y el personal va más allá de la llamada del deber e incluso proporciona un servicio de cambio de pañal. Te sientas a disfrutar el viaje. La vida es genial.

Luego algún representante chiflado decide que lo que realmente deseas son unas vacaciones  proactivas... y aprender a hacer algunas cosas por ti solo. OK, piensas que, vale el menú se ha  vuelto algo limitado y se ha perdido un poco el valor de la novedad…algo nuevo para distraer. Vale! Participas y aprendes a leer y escribir y contar. Pronto las cosas comienzan a sumar y te das cuenta que deberías de haber leído la letra pequeña ya que muy rápidamente en tu disfrute del producto “vida” el personal se vuelve poco fiable, perezoso, ausentes a veces y exigen algo de ti a cambio. Pronto no vende lo de ser mono y adorable. Tienes que decir "por favor" y "gracias" y para conseguir algo se basan en algún extraño sistema de puntos que depende altamente de si el personal ha tenido sus vacaciones, su chocolate, su beso u otro miembro del personal ni sabe que existe! Como los resultados de este sistema son poco fiables decides solo preguntar, disparar en la oscuridad y esperar lo mejor – esta costumbre te pondrá en una buena posición en el futuro. En esta primera introducción al sistema de puntos eres joven e inocente, pero este juego se convertira en pesadilla!!

Así, terminada tu etapa de mono y adorable, comienzas haciendo muchas cosas tu mismo o pagas a alguien para que te lo hagan. Entonces descubres que puedes ganar dinero haciendo cosas para otras personas, aunque muy a menudo el resultado no se equilibra y comienzas a pensar que es todo una conspiración y que no te enseñaron a sumar correctamente, ya que resulta que 2 mas 2 ha sido menos 5 todo el tiempo. Te das cuenta de que nunca vas a sumar suficientes puntos para acceder a las ofertas exclusivas anunciadas en el folleto.

Luego cuando te estas acostumbrado al menú buffet soso, las excursiones aburridas, cuando todo lo que tienes es un lejano recuerdo a aquellos días gratis de todo incluido de tu juventud... observas que algunos de esos compañeros del bus al resort sonríen y parecen estar pasando mucho tiempo en compañía de otros huéspedes y un montón de tiempo en sus habitaciones. Comienzas a escuchar el rumor de un paquete especial... no incluido en el folleto oficial... pero un tipo dudoso con gafas oscuras te informa sobre ello. Esto debería ser una advertencia para ti pero sigues, esto se ha convertido en unas vacaciones de aventura! Sabes que necesitas algo, y esto parece tenerlo todo. Luces, cámara, acción.

La oferta es que puedes encontrar a alguien que esté dispuesto a compartir esas cosas que tienes que hacer por ti solo. Qué es más... algunas de las cosas divertidas, menus especiales y tratos exclusivos. Fenomenal! Esto es demasiado tentador... sí algunos invitados mayores empiezan a advertir de costes escondidos y el sistema de puntos... bueno sopesas lo negativo y lo positivo y no existe competencia. De todos modos, los invitados mayores están probablemente en una conspiración para mantenerte alejado del paquete especial que conduce a – una gran vida!! Debe ser que lo quieren todo para sí mismos.

Entonces, te tiras de cabeza. Pronto tienes langosta y champagne cada día y toda la nata que desees, sin preguntas, sin sistema de puntos, siempre y cuando quieras... adiós al buffet soso y lo que es mas todo gratis... la vida es realmente divertida! Y con una sonrisa en tu cara felizmente aceptas los uno o dos no-invitados para cenar – ¡y, por qué no, cuantos más mejor! y también tienen sus pulseras de Todo Incluido... eres parte de un equipo por fin... felizmente haces cosas para ellos y gratis, comida, bebida, entretenimiento y servicio de cambio de pañal...

Pronto solo te toca un ¼ de la langosta y nada de champagne y el sistema de puntos se aplica al suministro de nata y a veces incluso hay guardias armados alrededor de ella. A veces para llegar al suministro de nata se requiere una capacidad especial para romper códigos, presionando los botones en un cierto orden, pero con cambios de código cada día muy pronto la frase... no te preocupes lo haré yo mismo... el self-service una vez mas está en el menú.

Esto es sólo el comienzo. Pronto regreso al buffet soso, considera te afortunado si te toca un melocotón jugoso para postre. Vuelta a las excursiones aburridas y bingo al lado de la piscina con una manta sobre tus rodillas y encima el personal empieza a sentir lástima por ti. Los costes ocultos del trato especial empiezan a montar y todavía no tienes el truco de sumar porque ya no es -5, ahora es -20. Además no hay ningún beneficio ya y las decisiones están fuera de tu control... todo ello hace la teoría de la conspiración perfectamente posible.

Lo que se te vendió parece tener algunas deficiencias importantes y otras grandes ofertas son eliminadas del todo incluido y son para disfrutar una vez al mes o cuando hayas acumulado puntos de bonificación en el sistema. A veces, las ofertas y tratos exclusivos sólo estn disponiblse en cumpleaños, Navidad y con tiempo deberas estar satisfecho con sólo un recuerdo. Luego la gente a tu alrededor comienza a decir: "así es la vida" y "Recuerdo cuando" y "es el círculo de la vida" y "gilipolleces pasan!"

Lo bueno es que puedes contar a todo el mundo cuánta langosta y champagne tuviste y que tu langosta era mas grande y que ya no se hacen así. Y lo que es mas … la nata… ahhhh la nata…. Cuando eras joven.. aquí, allí y en todas partes… suministros interminables y nada de bajo en grasas. Empiezas a disfrutar de la conspiración, las alegrías simples de la vida... reírse de otros tontos que están haciendo las mismas selecciones que tu... inscribirse a ciegas en los paquetes  especiales "no especificados en el folleto" y tirando se de cabeza !

Heart glitter on my bunions

Most blogs probably begin with a raison d’être, telling people the deep and meaningful reasons why they want to share their thoughts and dreams with complete strangers. I will probably tell you.... I’ve written it down... I took notes and crossed out and rewrit and couldn’t sleep, I didn’t want to miss anything or anyone out... I meditated at sunset (washing up breakfast bowl) and realised (should have left it soaking) that as all my chakras were opened (must buy some Rennies) and as I am at one with the universe and all of you... you should know exactly why I’m doing this.

So, to the point, something happened yesterday which just about summarises my state of mind and that of some friends of mine who have like me been on a journey of late, which apparently leads to inner peace and tranquillity and serenity and ... writing blogs...

I am about to complete stage 2 of an art therapy course. Speaking truthfully, it has been very interesting and enjoyable. I’ve always loved painting, and if nothing else, this course has broadened my creative talent and I’ve become more agile, and free, I’ve liberated myself from the limits of the art education of my youth and I suppose found my inner voice. The whole point of the course is to learn more about yourself and to create your own reality by creating it on canvas... something to do with left side/right side of brain and believing what it sees. The course does of course touch on things like the chakras and elements and associated colours and body parts and the FIFTH DIMENTION. I understand many people are worried about it being 2012 and possible end of the world, all I know is that our teacher (a shaman) and us are planning on holding an exhibition of our work when we finish... so I can safely say, end of the world, not happening this month or first week in July.

I realise that initially this will be read by people who know me and know that I tend to apply humour to most things, but, some of you don’t yet. In time you will know when I’m being serious, for now I will put the letters SM before my writing standing for Serious Moment and not senior moment, however I’m not guaranteeing that, should I still be doing this when I’m 80....so...before I go any further I have to say SM that I have a deep respect for ancient cultures and beliefs, if they’re still here thousands of years later... there must be something in it... however... my mission is to give you a giggle or at least make you smile...

Having woken up dizzy on Sunday I sensed, felt what I needed was to work on my art therapy canvas... a bit of white spirit ... kill or cure... so, was working on the canvas and decided to add glitter (I tend to do this, when I find my work needs a little umph! Or the mix to find the colour for cosmic illumination looks like dishwater... at the 5^th attempt) so, hunted the glitter out (I do try, you see to ... hide it from myself, it doesn’t take long though until I give in)so, silver glitter, blue glitter, some cutesy pale green stars, and little red hearts... ahhh. So whilst the oil paint is still wet, dip me finger in the glitter ... I have been painting with my fingers... a bit messy with oils but worth it... so with glitter on finger pat canvas, glit here glit there... lovely... now some stars... now some hearts, oops spilt some... windows open, sea breeze blowing through my flat (hot June Sunday in Mallorca). Glitter travelling light! Dustpan and brush to sweep up glitter, as I’m walking round barefoot, decide to brush my feet... one heart glitter stayed on left foot and one heart on right! No matter how hard I brushed! (I could have scraped with my nail but I quickly realised this was a moment of enlightenment! cosmic deep meaning surely!

Does it mean I love my feet? or I should love them more?... as one on each foot, I am balanced, male/female in sink, which chakra governs your feet? Chakras start in your crotch and finish above your head? What about feet? I’m not even talking about ankles or knees!! or is it just that I’m messy, and should have been more careful... and wear shoes... but, I want glitter and sparkle and umph to fill my life so... then my mum called, as they usually do... mums... when you’re on the brink of connecting with cosmic forces... to tell me that a good friend and neighbour of hers had suggested something for my dizziness – to put some herb under the sole of my foot... having just seen hearts there I thought... that’s just what I need ... a sprig of Rosemary !... or did she mean “soul”... ahh yes... cosmic... at this point I decided to share with my enlightened mother (after 45 years she’s used to me) my recent experience and as I spoke to her I looked again at my feet and realised that both hearts were under my bunions! This was truly cosmic... after loud laughter on both ends of the phone, my mother suggested I take a photo of my feet and their hearts ... no, I haven’t done me feet yet (home pedicure).. yet more laughter. Then I thought... there’s a hidden message here... where’s that massage book where there’s the Reflexogy chart of the feet depicting the link with body parts? It may be the key to solving my dizziness, far better than walking around with a bush under your feet...

I then remembered the conversation of yesterday with my good friend... also on this journey... and who reads more than me and knows more about chakras, and Reiki and stuff... when we last saw each other she bought a book on reading the shape of feet (as you do hands)... see how it’s all connected... I can’t make this up... and it wouldn’t be as good if I did... so, remembered I skimmed through it that day and looked up bunions... ‘cos I’ve got 2, balance, you see... and it’s a sign that I put other people first and always place myself last... this is of course a fault... tell me about it! It hurts like hell too! However, hearts on the bunions...??mmm? ahh yes.... as we’re all connected down to the last atom the universe is thanking me for this and the only way it knows how is two incy wincy heart shaped glitters on my bunions... thanks!

Must get the home pedicure stuff out and do my feet... Oh... hold on a minute... hearts on feet, I should love my feet and take better care of them... of course... wasn’t that what I thought at first?

AND NOW FOR THE SPANISH SPEAKERS

"Purpurina de corazones en los juanetes"

Traducción inicial por internet y editado a medianoche!! Me niego a responsabilizar me del resultado!

Supongo que los blogs suelen comenzar con una raison d'être, diciendo a la gente las razones profundas y significativas por las cuales quieren compartir sus pensamientos y sueños con desconocidos. Es posible que os lo diga... lo he escrito... tomé notas y tache y reescribi y no podía dormir, no quería olvidar nadie ni nada... En meditación profunda al atardecer (lavando los platos del desayuno) me di cuenta (haberlo dejado en remojo) que como todos mis chakras estaban abiertos (tengo que comprar Rennies) que como soy uno con el universo y todos vosotros ... ya debeis saber exactamente por qué estoy haciendo esto.

Por lo tanto, al grano, algo ocurrió ayer que resume mi estado de ánimo y el de algunas amigas que como yo han estado en un viaje ultimamente  que se supone nos llevara a la paz interior y tranquilidad y serenidad y... escribir blogs...

Estoy a punto de completar fase 2 de un curso de arteterapia. Hablando sinceramente, ha sido muy interesante y agradable. Siempre me ha gustado pintar y si nada más, este curso ha ampliado mi talento creativo y me he vuelto más ágil y libre, me he liberado de los límites de la educación artística de mi juventud y supongo que he encontrado mi voz interior. El objetivo del curso es aprender más acerca de ti mismo y crear tu propia realidad, creando tu realidad sobre lienzo... tiene algo que ver con el lado izquierda/lado derecho del cerebro y el creer lo que se ve. El curso por supuesto trata temas como los chakras, los elementos, partes del cuerpo, colores relacionados, la QUINTA DIMENSION.  Entiendo que muchas personas están preocupadas de que es 2012 y según algunos, el fin del mundo. Lo único que os puedo decir es que nuestra maestra (chamán) y nosotros estamos planeando una exposición de nuestro trabajo cuando terminamos... por lo que puedo afirmar, que el fin del mundo, no ocurrirá este mes o primera semana de julio.

Se que inicialmente esto será leído por personas que me conocen y saben que tiendo a aplicar humor a la mayoría de las cosas, pero, algunos de ustedes todavía no. Con el tiempo sabrán cuando no voy de bromas, por ahora voy a poner las letras MS antes de la escritura significando Momento Serio  y no Momento Senior , sin embargo no garantizando si todavía estoy haciendo esto con  80....entonces, antes de empezar tengo que decir MS que tengo un profundo respeto por antiguas culturas y creencias, si están todavía aquí miles de años más tarde... deben de tener algo... Sin embargo... mi misión es darte una risita o al menos hacerte sonreír...

Habiendo me despertado mareada el domingo sentí, que lo que necesitaba era trabajar en mi lienzo de arteterapia... un poco del aguaras era la solución ... matar o curar... por lo tanto, estaba trabajando en el lienzo y decidi ponerle purpurina (glitter) (tiendo a ello, cuando encuentro que  mi trabajo necesita un poco de umph! (Animo) Realmente es cuando la mezcla para encontrar el color de la iluminación cósmica parece agua post fregar platos... en el 5º intento) buscando alocadamente la purpurina (intento, veréis .. ocultarlo de mí misma, no tardo mucho en rendir me y confesar todo) purpurina de plata, de azul, algunas estrellas cursi de verde pálido y corazoncitos rojos... ahhh. Así,  mientras que la pintura al óleo es todavía húmeda, meto el dedo en la purpurina... he pintado con mis dedos... un poco guarro con oleos, pero vale la pena .. con dedo y purpurina doy toques al lienzo, purpu aquí purpu allí... precioso... ahora algunas estrellas... ahora algunos corazones, vaya he derramado algunos... la ventana abierta, brisa marina que sopla a través de mi piso (domingo caluroso de Junio en Mallorca). Purpurina viajando ligeramente! Recogedor y cepillo para barrer la purpurina, como estoy caminando descalza, decido cepillar mis pies... un glitter de corazón pegado al pie izquierdo y otro corazón en el derecho! Sin importar cuánto cepillo! (podría haber rascado con mis uñas pero rápidamente me di cuenta que esto era un momento de iluminación! Sin duda con profundo significado cosmico!

¿Significa que amo a mis pies, o debo amar les más?... como uno en cada pie, estoy equilibrada, masculino y femenino sincronizado  ¿qué chakra rige los pies? ¿los chakras empiezan en la entrepierna y terminan por encima de la cabeza? ¿y los pies? Ni hablemos del tobillo!! O la rodilla! Bueno quizá es solo que soy desordenada y que debería haber sido más cuidadosa... y llevar zapatos... pero, quiero poner le brillo y umph! a mi vida... en ese momento me llamo mi madre, como suelen hacer... las madres... cuando estas al borde de la conexión con fuerzas cósmicas... y me dice que una buena amiga y vecina había sugerido algo para mi mareo: poner algunas hierbas bajo la planta de mi pie (“sole” en ingles)... acabo de ver corazones allí, pensé... es justo lo que necesito ahora... un ramillete de Romero!... o quería decir "alma" (“soul” en ingles)... ahh sí... cósmico... en este momento decido compartir con mi madre progresista mi experiencia (después de 45 años me tiene costumbre) y al hablar con ella vuelvo a mirar mis pies y me doy cuenta de que ambos corazones estaban bajo mis juanetes! Esto fue verdaderamente cósmico... después de carcajadas en ambos lados de la linea, mi madre me sugirió tomar una foto de mis pies y sus corazones... no, aun no me hecho la pedicura. Mas carcajadas. Entonces pensé... hay un mensaje oculto aquí... ¿Dónde esta el libro de masajes donde existe el gráfico de reflexologia de los pies que representan el vínculo con partes del cuerpo? Puede ser la clave para resolver mis mareos, mucho mejor que caminar con una mata bajo los pies...

Entonces recordé la conversación de ayer con mi buena amiga... también en este viaje... y quien lee más que yo y sabe más sobre chakras y Reiki y cosas... la última vez que nos vimos compró un libro sobre la lectura de la forma de los pies (igual que hacen con manos)... ves cómo todo está conectado... No me lo podría inventar... y no sería tan bueno si lo hiciera... recuerdo haber ojeado el libro ese día y  busque juanetes... porque tengo 2, ves…equilibrio perfecto, ... y es una señal de que pones las necesidades de otras personas antes que las tuyas... esto es por supuesto un fallo... cuenta me lo!! Y jo como duele!! En fin… corazones en los juanetes..??? mmm? ahh sí.... claro, como estamos todos conectados hasta el último átomo, el universo esta agradeciendo me esta labor y la única manera que sabe hacerlo es dos pequeñiiiisimas purupupurinas de corazones en mis juanetes... gracias!

Tengo que sacar las cosas para arreglar me los pies... Oh... espera un momento... corazones en los pies… debo amar a mis pies y tomar mejor cuidado de ellos... por supuesto... oye ¿no era eso lo que pensaba al principio?

Welcome

Hello, yes it's me, I'm here, I'm writing... Come, sit with me a while and let me tell you a story.

FOR THE SPANISH SPEAKERS

Hola, si, soy yo, estoy aqui, estoy escribiendo... Ven, sienta te conmigo un rato y deja que te cuente un cuento.