Just pleasantly floundering around.....

I lived in my last house for more than fifteen years. That's a long time to settle in. So long in fact that it was bound to take some serious settling out. A significant number of people said something like, 'moving house is supposed to be one of the most stressful things,' to me when they found me with what could best be described as 'the unhinged look' while hugging myself and gently rocking. They might have been right. Generally I think of myself as being a pretty laid back person but moving house did stir up a few episodes of neurosis. There really is rather a lot to think about (oh and, yes, do) on so many different levels....... 1) The legal stuff - although our solicitor was grand she couldn't address my form phobia or my need to shout at legal-speak to more obviously say what it means. 2) The fact you're manoeuvring huge amounts of money around in a seemingly flippant way - although actually some of the building societies did their best to make it tr...

I don't entirely buy into Father's or Mother's or Valentine's or any of those days that have been turned into a mass marketed, money grabbing load of nonsense. I surprised myself there. Clearly I buy into it even less than I thought! However, having said that, the kids and I did make a little booklet for the dad in our house. It was eight pages and I just got the kids to write (or tell me so I could write - in the case of Jed) and draw their responses to questions about dad such as: *words I would use to describe dad... *why we love dad... *what makes dad great... *etc What they produced was reasonably entertaining - especially as both children had made up several adjectives to describe Andy - still not sure what was meant by 'shirtish'. Overall, however, I was a little disappointed about the result. That was until the last page which asked the children, 'If you could change one thing about dad, what would you change?' This clearly captured Jed's att...

I have definitely got better at listening as I have got older. I mean really listening. That's quite an achievement for someone that's a really enthusiastic extravert like me. I'm not saying there isn't room for improvement; I mean we are all of us perpetual 'works in progress' after all. It occurred to me this week that listening properly is possibly one of the kindest things you can do for someone. And it also occurred to me that most of us probably are not used to being listened to - not properly. I might even go so far as to say that many of us probably have some 'hang-ups' about not being listened to because the vast majority of children just weren't listened to back in our day and proper listening was certainly rarely domonstrated in my childhood! I used to think what I articulated was the quickest way to impress others and hopefully leave them thinking I was worth knowing. I now think differently!

Every year the Norwich and Norfolk festival surpasses itself. And predominantly it's one adjective expanding: quirkyosivitiness (I know, I know - it's not a real word but it's what it does). Whoever is in charge of bookings must spend all year searching really hard for the bizarre and the extraordinary. And these acts and events don't appear in the expensive ticket, high brow, classical concerts part - no - they happen in the fringe festival and they happen all over town. Take this afternoon. I wandered into town with my family with no agenda. If I am really honest - I had actually momentarily forgotten the festival was on. A man playing fiddle on a tightrope jogged it back into my memory. ....as did the somewhat strange merri-go-round in one of the city centre parks.... Having remembered the festival was on I had vague recollections of something happening in Blackfriars Hall that I had an inkling I might like but wasn't sure what it was. I had read a programme at s...

I found this and I thought it was a powerful metaphor. I know it's odd to use a post to just exhibit someone else's work but I include it to show my respect for how it provoked my thinking, not having a disabled child myself.... Welcome to Holland by Emily Perl Kingsley I am often asked to describe the experience of raising a disabled child. To try and help people who have not shared that unique experience to understand it, to imagine how it would feel....it's like this..... When you're going to have a baby, it's like planning a fabulous vacation trip - to Italy. You buy a bunch of guidebooks and make your wonderful plans. The Coliseum, Michelangelo's David. The gondolas in Venice. You may learn some handy phrases in Italian. It's all very exciting. After months of eager anticipation, the day finally arrives. You pack your bags and off you go. Several hours later, the plane lands. The stewardess comes in and says, "Welcome to Holland." "Holla...

I have given myself some careers advice and have decided you need to employ me to create the most exciting, entertaining and unusual theme park in the UK. I'd make back the money you invested in no time - I promise! Within the grounds of the park would be the Museum of the Imagination in which, because I have too many ideas to include, we would need to rotate the exhibits regularly. There would be physical challenges (cross this terrain using the given equipment), murder mysteries - no actors needed!, add to the alien scape, moveable marble runs, a large (but miniature) treasure island around which children followed clues to find the treasure (different levels of difficulty), combat games that people could join in and leave at any moment, work out the one possible route puzzle, whole spaces that were visually and sensorilly spectacular, stream modelling, construct-a-fountain, 'cards' that I create for kids to collect -as prizes at various points in the park (they'll com...

This week we visited Dungeness in Kent. It really isn't at all what you'd expect to find in a home county. It's basically a remote and bleak shingle bank cluttered with 'shacks', a couple of pubs, a miniature steam railway station (we arrived by train), a cafe, a nuclear power station (!) and a couple of lighthouses. I could see how someone could visit and decide it was an absolute dump, but for me it was strangely captivating. This was the view from the top of the old lighthouse.... There was also plenty of evidence of Dungeness' 'Bohemian' population. Several houses had arrangements of weird and wonderful 'clutter'. Washed up debris.... Shoes..... Posts....(?) A nuclear power station always makes for an interesting backdrop... And of course, there was Derek Jarman's garden at Prospect Cottage.... Even the road looked artistically shabby!