The List

Susan Has asked me to post The List. The List is one I have had around for years, of things I want to do in my lifetime. Before I die. Well, that is not a morbid thought at all, it is just a very large "to do" list, and I review it every year, and cross off some, hopefully, and then so help me, add a zillion more. There is no way on earth that I will get to do them all, but I like shooting for the stars, after all, and as I said in the last post, dreams are good.

1. Go to Alaska
2. See the aurora borealis
3. See New England in the Fall
4. Paraglide off an Alp
5. Run the Great North Run (a half marathon)
6. Have a helicopter flying lesson
7. Finish reading War and Peace (I started when I was 18. You do the maths)
8. Explore New Zealand
9. Learn to ski
10. Grow all my own vegetables
11. Sew all the quilts in my head
12. Finish my scrapbooks
13. Make my youngest son a celebration quilt
14. Be debt free
15. Be a Granny
16. Live in Switzerland
17. Build my own eco friendly home - I have had the plans for years
18. Spend more time with my friends all over the world
19. Learn how to make jam
20. Learn to carve wood
21. Learn how to paint properly
22. Speak better German
23. Read the mountain of books I have waiting to be read
24. Get better at Excel
25. Clean out my filing cabinet
26. De-clutter my life
27. See my youngest child graduate from university one day
28. See my children all happy and settled with people to love them
29. Entertain more often
30. Survive an inquest (soon I hope)
31. Campaign for causes I value dearly
32. Spend more time alone
33. Learn to be silent
34. Go to Prague
35. Ride a horse
36. Watch a cricket match at Lords
37. Go to a rugby international at the Millenium stadium
38. Ride another roller coaster
39. Spend a week in London exploring the museums and galleries
40. Go to the ballet and theatre more often
41. Learn to take better photos
42. Write a book
43. Have a fireplace in my home
44. Laugh more each day
45. Go to the Lion King
46. And Les Miserables (again)
47. Defrost my freezer (if you knew me, you would know why this is on the list)
48. Fix everything that needs fixing
49. Have perfect nails (I would settle for perfect nails for a week)
50. Drive a tractor

That is 50. You would be bored out of your mind if I listed the entire List, so this will have to do. An eclectic mix. It is not a list about acquisition at all, but about experiencing things and learning, and then just "getting round to" as well. So many places I want to see, and learn about. But you know what? If I don't get to do any of them, (the defrosting the freezer bit is rather pressing however) that will be fine. The important part is having the dreams, and wanting to learn. The worrying part is when I stop and think of all the things I USED to know and have forgotten. Oh well.... I am just making room for new things!

Remember

Today is Boomama's rallying call to help Heather. Reading the comments fills me with hope and warmth, and a wonderful sense of being part of something good and worthwhile. The number of people from all round the world who are praying for this young Mum with enormous faith is amazing. You want to know about hope and faith? Here it is.

And let me just say once again, that Boomama is one exceptional young woman. She should run for president. Now. She makes things happen.

I want to say something that is sort of relevant at the moment. I have never set much store in worrying obsessively about the future. (Just as well, really.) Today is what counts. Right now. Living life to the full today....loving without fear, laughing, smiling, counting my enormous blessings, making the most of what is there at the moment... these are the things that are important. I do not advocate stupidity, let me add! This does not mean irresponsibility or being foolish with finances. It just means that I am free from worry about what could, or might happen one day. Tomorrow. A year away. 10 years away. Of course I have dreams. Everyone needs dreams. I like to think about what I might do, or could do one day. Places I would love to visit, people I want to meet. Maybe. This is good. I still battle to separate the "want" from the "need", but I am getting there. There are no guarantees, and life can change in a second.

You know, whatever may happen, we will learn to manage. We make plans. We adapt. In South Africa before majority rule, there was a slogan "adapt or die" (it was also a satirical play which was wonderful). Adapting is how we all survive. Challenges come when we least expect them, and how we respond to them is how we grow. Change can be good, and we don't know the master plan, so we don't always see how until much later. We just have to trust.

So many of my blogging friends are facing huge challenges at the moment. One day at a time. Their grace and faith and honesty is amazing. Dreadful things happen. Tragedy happens. But so much good comes from the bad things too. Today is an example of that. How much we are learning from each other daily, and how thankful I am that I took the leap into the unknown and became a part of it all.

Are we real?

After reading MG's post this morning I thought a long while about how real I am in this blogging world. Is this really me? In a sense, it would be quite possible to be whoever we chose to be, I suppose, but that thought never occurred to me at all. I don't see the point of pretending to be something or someone I am clearly not. People who know me in "real" life say I write here just as I speak.It sounds like me. This is good.

Like so many of you, I started blogging when my daughter did. I wanted to be part of this new world, and speak to her specifically, and then I started looking for people my own age and found a world of women I am coming to know well, whose lives I share in print and cyberspace, and who are real to me, at least. I trust my instincts here.

Because we are usually alone when we write, I think we tend to speak about things that we may not verbalise easily in company at times. I write for myself, not to try to impress anyone. There is no-one to impress here late at night. I am talking about what I do and think and feel. Well, some of it. One of my old friends has been known to say that 99% of me is kept hidden from the general public. I don't think it is quite that high a percentage, but yes, I have a part of me I tend not to share easily. With anyone. Those who know me a little better can read between the lines now and then and sense the things I choose not to say, and there are one or 2 who I have emailed privately to fill in some of the blanks. I do edit out some of the tough stuff, and I may never share that, or I may wait a few months to say anything, when it is no longer raw. This is not my life story. It is simply a reflection of who I am today and of my rollercoaster ride through life in my middle years. No. My prime. Of course.

I am just an ordinary woman. With 52 years of experience of life. There have been successes and failures. Triumphs and tragedies. Laughter and tears. Wars and peace. Good decisions and catastrophic ones. Choices and consequences learnt the hard way. Nothing spectacular. I do not lead a charmed life. I have mountains of challenges to face. However, I have been blessed with a healthy dose of optimism, and a "can do" rather than a "can't do" philosophy of life.

You know, one of the greatest things about all of this is that age plays no part in the blogging world. Some of you could be my daughters. And I read about your trials with your babes, and it triggers memories buried in time of my own babes, that perhaps I would have forgotten. It is such fun to read that some things never change, and I love it all. I just want to yell loudly now and then to tell you all to savour every moment. It is gone so quickly. They grow up overnight. I love the fact that I can join in the celebrations when babies are born, when journeys are completed, when prayers are answered. I love the fact that we can share and support each other through laughter and tears. And tears of laughter.

I like to think you would recognise me in real life.

I am here

Have you ever swum too far and bobbed up and down in the water going under now and then? Have you ever looked towards the shore and thought, it is just too far away, and I will never get back? This has been a year of more downs than ups so far, and even though I banished all thoughts of new year resolutions, the one I did make, to find reason to smile and laugh no matter what the year tossed at me, has been somewhat difficult to keep. I seem to have been caught in a riptide going out to sea.

The Commonwealth Games have come and gone, a whole school term has done the same, and I am 4 months older since last I posted a blog. I seem to have taken up permanent residence in doctors waiting rooms, or hospitals. Geoff collapsed in the middle of Feb at work, and 2 weeks later had his aortic valve replaced in Oxford. He will be off work till the end of May. Mum was supposed to be in Switzerland helping Marge and Peter with their home and dogs once the new restaurant opened, and they needed my help too, but I simply could not get there. Mum had health issues which took ages to resolve and now I am finally having to admit I am not superhuman after all. The spirit may be willing, but the body is shutting down.

David turns 17 tomorrow, and heaven help us all, will be learning to drive. I have no idea how time has flown by so fast. Today I had a visit from my goddaughter, Paula, who I last saw when she was about 4. She is a stunning young woman, 26 now and a physiotherapist from New Zealand, and all of a sudden, I feel old! All around me are friends who are battling with medical dilemmas, illness, parents ailing, and reversal of roles. I spent a week helping to look after a friend's dad who has Parkinsons and Alzheimers, and I remember so well, how hard it was to look after my Dad, and all the guilt that comes with making decisions we would rather avoid. We all have ideals of perfection you know, and precious little chance of ever reaching them. I am certainly my own harshest critic, and with that comes the guilt and the sense of failure and futility. Responsibility, unrelenting, can have devastating effects on us.

BUT........................................ It is now April. A new month, and the optimist in me is anticipating spring and sunny days ahead, an easing of the stress, and healing. I am going to New Zealand in September, and I will get to Switzerland to help in the summer. Andrew, Ann and Mum went today and are sitting in Engelberg as I speak. I will get there soon. And the smile is back, even though at times it is a little wobbly.