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Posts Tagged ‘fun’

#Fun #Friendship#Love #Laughter

image from http://www.josephinewallart.co.uk
Dream Bubbles

“It is a grave injustice to a child or adult to insist that they stop crying. One can comfort a person who is crying which enables him to relax and makes further crying unnecessary; but to humiliate a crying child is to increase his pain, and augment his rigidity. We stop other people from crying because we cannot stand the sounds and movements of their bodies. It threatens our own rigidity. It induces similar feelings in ourselves which we dare not express and it evokes a resonance in our own bodies which we resist.”
Alexander Lowen, The Voice of the Body

Fun and Friendship, Love and Laughter

How do you describe the full spectrum of human emotion? Where do you find the words to tell someone how important they are to you? The answer is – you don’t need to. If you are in integrity with your inner self, your emotions and with your heart, then people will be able to sense the authentic you.

We hide our emotions to protect ourselves, from hurt, from pain, from loss and even from joy and love. There are times when our emotions are so strong that we struggle to find the words to let someone know how much they really mean to us. Often, it’s those who mean the most to us who we struggle to show the depth of our feelings for.

How many of us sit and laugh, cry, are inspired by and revolted by when we watch movies? The heroes and villains are able to reach inside us and find those chinks in our armour and those carefully held emotions come flooding out. For some it is a needed release, blaming the emotion on the artists craft to speak to us since it has become, for some, a weakness to show our true feelings. For some, allowing our true feelings to appear is a means for others to hurt and humiliate us, the very people with whom we should be able to be the most open and safe.

Here is a collection of three songs which are emotive and show the tenderness, love and the compassion of one person for another. Songs, which allow us to cry without fear of being laughed at or poked fun at. I’ve always believed it is the very people who use the love in someones heart to hurt them who need our compassion and pity, even if they often fail to deserve it by their actions.

Friends, real friends can be wonderful treasures in our lives. They are willing to listen to our pain, silently lending us their strength and helping us to heal so we may love again. Bette Midler in Beaches” singing “Wind Beneath my Wings” is, for me a wonderful example of true friendship.

Then there is the traditional love but from an unorthodox source. One of my favourite films is “City of Angels” with Meg Ryan and Nicholas Cage. How can one fail to be moved when she is struggling with her desire for love but cannot truly touch her angel? Yet when he makes the ultimate sacrifice for her their joy is so short lived. It has so much, from the angels greeting the sun together and listening to the wind to helping those who are ready to cross over.  For me it is a truly beautiful movie and the song, “In The Arms Of The Angel” by Sarah McLachlan.

It wouldn’t be complete to end without yet more pain and pleasure inextricably mixed. The incredible movie with Bette Midler, Diane Keaton and Goldie Hawn singing “You Don’t Own Me” from “The First Wives Club” is a story of love, betrayal and survival through friendship.

I hope you enjoy the brief wander through the movies and emotions here. If they intrigue you why don’t you watch the movies? There are lessons to learn in the most unlikely places.

Blessings,  Susan ♥

© Susan Jamieson 2014

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#In Search of....

image from www-josephinewall-co.uk

“There has always been, for me, this other world, this second world to fall back on–a more reliable world in so far as it does not hide that its premise is illusion.”
Graham Swift, Ever After
“You’re still alive. Be thankful for that. You can still walk and talk and think. Yes, you feel like shit most of the time, but it could be worse. So instead of sitting in your room waiting to die, why don’t you join in on life until you do die? Dammit! Get off your dead ass and make something of the life you still have left!”
Deanna Lynn Sletten, Widow, Virgin, Whore

~

The luxury of the Cairo Marriott was only a brief stopover in the trip, but one that was a glimpse into ostentatious luxury. Could I have handled more? Well, if I had a huge bag of money and all I needed were casino tables, possibly. However, I wanted more, the real Egypt I had been introduced to as a child by my mother, through her love of the Pyramids. She hadn’t been able to see them personally but her library was an exquisite collection of all things ancient Egyptian.

Our first full day of sightseeing began at the Giza Necropolis – without a sandstorm. What an incredible difference from the last time we were there. Our tour guide Ayman was as well versed in Egyptology as Vered had been in Israeli history. At least we started off well with a good tour bus!  Arriving at the Pyramids we were greeted with a car park which resembled a bus depot. Trying to remember which bus ‘belonged’ to us was no small feat. We were admonished “Not to go anywhere alone”, “Not to go anywhere with the camel drivers”, and finally “To remember that tourists had been abducted, murdered and…worse”.

Suitably encouraged we set off. Ayman walked us around the pyramids and gave us a brief history of the area. This complex of ancient monuments includes the three pyramid complexes known as the Great Pyramids, the massive sculpture known as the Great Sphinx, several cemeteries, a workers’ village and an industrial complex. The Pyramids of Giza consist of Great Pyramid and the Pyramid of Cheops and Khufu, the somewhat smaller Pyramid of Chephren) a few hundred meters to the south-west and the Pyramid of Mykerinos a few hundred meters further south-west. The Great Sphinx is to the east of the complex. (That’s the travel guide explanation).

After a thorough tour of the area we were given an hour to wander at our leisure. Considering there were no shops to visit, the camels beckoned. Mel wasn’t too sure but after being so strongly advised to “be careful” it seemed an insult not to have a ride. Beside, how could we come all this way and not have a ride on a camel, around the pyramids too?

The camel must have seen me coming and after following the instructions to climb on board I was halfway there when she decided to stand up.  WHOA! Not what you want to happen. From a very precarious perch the tip and sway was alarming, and I was trying to reassure my friend that all was well.  I managed to settle on my high perch and then we had to get the camel to sit down again so she could get on.  I’m sure if you asked her she would tell you she had a grip of iron. Once settled the careful walk began. Did you know they only use female camels because they are more placid? Yes, strange thoughts ran through my mind too.

I think it must be part of the ride because half way around the circuit we stopped and the driver (why do they call them drivers?), asked if we wanted to have the famous photos taken – the one where you look as though your finger is right on the tip of the pyramid? Well, first I had to persuade Mel it was okay to give him my camera… he could have run off with it. Leaving us on his camel? Oh well. That was the easiest part. Broken English trying to ask you to point just so, in order that your finger, held just so (artistically) appears to be on the very tip of the pyramid behind you, just so. The laughter began and it was a long drawn out attempt to get a couple of photos but I was in a good mood so I didn’t mind. Some of our fellow travelers weren’t as amused.  The remainder of the ride was uneventful, apart from the ship on the high seas feeling as we, or rather our camel, sat back down again. Gee Mel did get off quickly!

We must have made an impression with the camel drivers because we quickly gathered a group around us, all offering to show us where to go to get the best photos of the pyramids. Why not? Well, the obvious answer was the stern admonishment not to wander off because of the dire possibilities for a female alone in Egypt. But that was alright because we weren’t alone – we were together!  So off we wandered, about two hundred metres and took some wonderful photos of the pyramids and then with our erstwhile friendly camel drivers. All was well and we were walking back towards the bus when our guide, Ayman came hurrying towards us, concern written large on his face.

A couple of the sour pusses who had seen us wandering off with the camel drivers had hot footed it over to Ayman and told him we were being kidnapped! Honestly. At that particular time I was in no mind to be trifled with – by anyone, particularly someone of the opposite sex. I would have cheerfully chopped them off at the knees. I knew this and I’m sure the camel drivers sensed this, even if they spent a considerable amount of time, in their broken English trying to persuade us to take them away with us!  I did try to take it with good grace but I was really irritated. I could sense how the trip was going to go.

Goodbye to the Grand Sphynx

Goodbye to the Grand Sphynx

The Alabaster Shop

The Alabaster Shop

#In Search of

Breaking more hearts?

In high spirits, (I refused to be crestfallen at this turn of events) we walked back to the bus to head back to our next stop, the Alabaster factory. We couldn’t get into trouble here and bought quite a few pieces to take home with us. The salesmen however were overly eager to offer their services to us…. if we wanted them to run away with us to Australia. I could see a pattern developing. Ayman decided we needed to have an eye kept on us because we might get into ‘trouble’ but, that was yet to come.

#In Search of..

Statue of Rameses 11 at Memphis

Back at the hotel we were advised we would be leaving to go on our Nile cruise early the next morning. This was going to be fun!

Whatever it was I was searching for was becoming  a little clearer. I was leaving more of the old persona behind and finding there was a fun person inside, someone who could laugh and enjoy the silliness of life. I was feeling the awe and majesty of the Pyramids and a sense of the great power and mystery they contained. Yet I knew my search was not over yet.

Blessings, Susan x

Next week – Nile Cruise and ‘arrested’.

© Susan Jamieson 2014

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Christmas Calling

image from
josephine-wall-fantasy-paintings.co.uk

“Christmas waves a magic wand over this world, and behold, everything is softer and more beautiful. ”
― Norman Vincent Peale

~

“I know what I really want for Christmas.
I want my childhood back.
Nobody is going to give me that. I might give at least the memory of it to myself if I try. I know it doesn’t make sense, but since when is Christmas about sense, anyway? It is about a child, of long ago and far away, and it is about the child of now. In you and me. Waiting behind the door of or hearts for something wonderful to happen. A child who is impractical, unrealistic, simpleminded and terribly vulnerable to joy.”
― Robert Fulghum, All I Really Need to Know I Learned in Kindergarten

~

The Christmas of times past seems to have vanished like the snow from my door. Snow is never likely to fall in front of my door again, but it really has only a small part to play in the changes in Christmas. I would that I could offer everyone the intense joy and happiness I knew with each and every Christmas. The fact that it has changed for me is a matter of great dismay. The fact that it has changed for so many others is daunting.

As a child I knew so much happiness and excitement as Christmas drew close. It wasn’t for the fact that the stores were filled with toys and lollies and Christmas decorations. It was for the joy and wonder my parents and grandparents created each day leading up to Christmas day. I was fortunate that the shops didn’t put out the decorations, cards and toys until much closer to Christmas. The unique ‘specialness’ of Christmas had not been inundated with the bombardment of the commercialism of Christmas. It yet held that special air of magic. The pleasure of a nativity calendar!

I remember one year, being so convinced that my parents had to be helping Santa by hiding our gifts somewhere at home. After all he couldn’t really get them all round the world to every boy and girl on Christmas Eve, could he? I searched the house from top to bottom (I was very excited). I found nothing of course. My parents knew me well – they had hidden everything at my Nanny’s since she lived next door. It was a thrilling time none the less.

I remember when I was old enough to start sending Christmas cards to my friends. It was a sign, an indication that I was getting older and able to understand the real meaning behind Christmas. It meant, to me at least, that Christmas was a time for family, and for friends, and more than that for everyone I met. It was a time to share happiness, even if it was only a smile or a card.

Christmas Calling

image from theearthconstitution.org

I remember when my children were born and the excitement I felt when I gave them cards and gifts. I remember the fun we had as we made up Christmas hampers for the Salvos and for the RSPCA.  I remember with a sigh, when they too became old enough to want to give their friends Christmas cards.  Yet, in what feels like a few short years later the world itself has changed. Somehow, Christmas has lost some of its magic and sparkle and we are the poorer for it.

People  no longer want to send cards, if you are very fortunate you might get an e card. I haven’t yet found a way to hang it up though. What does that card mean? To me it meant that I cared about the person I was sending it to; I was thinking about them even if I couldn’t see or speak with them on Christmas day – or perhaps over the few days of Christmas. So a card, especially when money was tight, was a true gift of the heart to say…I miss you and I wish you all the best and that you were here. We made cards which held a stronger magic of love.

The other day I heard someone refer to themselves as an orphan and having an ‘Orphan Christmas’ because their parents had divorced. I felt so saddened by that. I thought of all the children who have never had parents, are living on the streets, or whose parents have passed away and therefore cannot have any part of the physical Christmas with them. I understand, I think, what they meant, but I couldn’t stop the tears forming, as I thought of the fact that my parents were no longer here, my brothers not speaking with me and my children unable to visit this year. I was selfish, I know, but the words hit like a barb bringing all the other barbs to play.

What hit the hardest was knowing that this move from giving Christmas cards means that I don’t even have the joy of a card to say – Yes, they are thinking of me. There is a part of them here too. Of course, they are in my heart, but I have to wonder why people are so reluctant to spend a few dollars sending a card.  What has happened to the feeling and magic of Christmas?

Oh, I know, its expensive sending cards today, and if you are giving someone a gift why spend a few extra dollars on a card? Better yet, why send a card when the postage costs more than the card? Perhaps it’s the thought, why send a card at all, we don’t see or hear from them most of the year? Somehow this just sounds like excuses or miserly thinking. (To me). The Christmas Spirit seems to be vanishing, or has the Christmas Grinch caught up with most people?

I am often heard wishing for snow at Christmas, the feel of the crisp air and the crunch of snow underfoot. The robins and tinsel, mistletoe and fairy lights. My mother’s fantastic Christmas tree decorated, which eclipse mine to this day, I can never see again, except in my memory. The paper decorations we all made as children – do you remember the strips of coloured paper, we glued one end to make a circle, then added more? Paper chains, we had a houseful one year. 🙂  I have beautiful cross stitch ornaments and sequin balls made at school by my children. Yet there is a hollow feeling in my heart. The Christmas magic is being stolen.

If I was allowed only one Christmas wish I would give it to –  all of you. I would wish you; a Christmas filled with joy and magic, the excitement of family or friends, or someone who cared, to make your Christmas special. If I could I would make sure that everyone received at least one Christmas card, with wishes for a safe and happy Christmas, filled with love and that you would all return safe and sound in the New Year.  

~

Wherever you are, my wish is that you receive the joy and magic from my heart to yours. That you feel the love and happiness of Christmas, of time shared however briefly together.

~

This, is my Christmas Calling to You.

~

Blessings, Susan x

© Susan Jamieson 2013

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Guy Fawkes

image from http://www.channel4.com       The typical bonfire for guy Fawkes night

I’m a little late with this post as you can see, since Bonfire night or Guy Fawkes night was November 5. I realise my American readers will still be on November 5, so hooray, but down-under it is already November 6. I had intended to do this but instead my husband and I spent the evening reminiscing on what bonfire night had been like in both our countries as we were growing up.

Here in Australia it was celebrated with the huge (or small) bonfire and fireworks. It was a night of relaxed merrymaking amongst close friends, at least for my husband and his family, as they lived in the country and neighbours were miles away. With an abundance of wood cleared for planting crops they had a head start on their UK counterparts!

Yet for all the nostalgia of its passing I got the feeling that it wasn’t quite the same as we had in England. However, they made the night their own with a few drinks and a party, and of course, the obligatory high jinks. I’m told that amongst the fireworks was an occasional marine flare and an even bigger flash with the odd stick of gelignite (used for clearing tree stumps as a rule)! It seems when mischief arrives fun will be had and imagination abounds amongst young and the young at heart.

Guy Fawkes

image from http://www.cosmopolitan.co.uk –         My type of bonfire complete with Guy Fawkes.

In the UK things were a little different. Throughout the months of September and October the households participating in their Guy Fawkes bash (and there were many of them), would scour the neighborhood collecting timber, of any kind, old doors, packing crates, furniture, in fact anything which would burn.  It was a competition to see who could gather, and keep their bonfire material. Scavenging was tolerated, if not accepted and raids on each others stockpile were legendary. (We used to keep ours under lock and key in the old coal cellar). Many is the night when I would join the local lads (yes I was a tom boy), creeping through the dark night to sneak under the fence or wire, climb a tree to get over a fence and raid the competition’s stockpile. Adrenaline flowed and it was all in the nature of fun…. there was little violence as a result of our raiding which showed how much things have changed over the years.

By the end of October the anticipation was growing apace. Guarding your stockpile was a rostered affair to ensure your hoard remained intact. It was serious business by now. Halloween was one of the last nights for fun and frivolity before the big event. Being a book-worm I would love telling the stories of how it was possible to see the spirits of those crossed over on this night and as we ran and hid to jump out and scare one another mercilessly, we looked over our shoulders to see if something was following us. Dropping from overhead branches as we crept past trees and suddenly knocking over dustbins to hear the clatter and clang were all part of the lighthearted fun.

My understanding of Halloween only grew in later years, but then, as a child it was simple light-hearted fun and a night when children could safely roam the streets for a few hours after dark and have some high jinks. Trick or treating didn’t exist and a few hours of running amok certainly tired us out, much to our parents delight.

Guy Fawkes

image from http://www.dailymail.co.uk    The traditional style of Guy Fawkes, all ready for the fire.

I hasten to add that this photo even predates my Guy Fawkes but is the closest approximation to the ones I made each year. Dad graciously donated a pair of overalls and shirt. Granddad a cap and socks and usually a scarf and gloves. The stuffing was a mixture of rags and sticks, straw and anything I could jam in to fill him out nicely.

His face was a piece of hessian with eyes, nose and mouth painted on. Sometimes we had a jacket and sometimes boots….it all depended on what we could scrounge in the area. Stuffing it, sewing him up and painting a face really made him come alive. When it came time to tie him into his chair, we always used a donated kitchen chair to put at the top of the bonfire, he became a rather sad person to me.

He was of course, the person responsible for trying to blow up the houses of parliament. One has to wonder at times if he wasn’t on the right track, but that’s just my musing.

It was an unwritten but accepted rule that once the bonfire building began there were no more raids. The fire built during the day so that as the adults came home we were as wired as a high wire acrobat. One family made baked potatoes, another cooked pies and the obligatory mushy peas (yes mushy peas and I loved them) and I made ‘plot’ toffee and toffee apples. I have no idea why it was called plot toffee as the recipe was no different to usual, except I had to make lots more of it. Chewy or hard there was little left at the end of the night.

Guy Fawkes

image from http://www.mumsintheknow.co.uk                  Fireworks a spectacular display on Guy Fawkes night

A ring of chairs (for the fire later) or from inside the house, logs for the fire or other comfortable perches were arranged in a circle around the fire for the adults. I can’t say I saw any alcohol but then I was a wee innocent back then. Dad was in charge of the fireworks and he managed to let his inner child run free and he slipped the Chinese Tom Thumbs loose behind the adults to see them jump too. I loved the Catherine Wheels, but then I loved it all.

The smell of the fire, the toasty feel of the heat on your face, the excitement as the fire burned brightly and the whiz, bang and whirr of the fire works, plus the parade of ‘goodies’ throughout the evening, on a cold chilly night was almost indescribable.  There was always a “hurrah” from almost everyone as poor old Fawkes succumbed to the flames but I still felt sorry for him.

Parents finally chivvied children in to bathe and bed, still excited and wide-eyed and seeing the fire glow from your window it was hard to fall asleep. Truthfully I was caught on more than one occasion hanging from my bedroom window watching the flames still burning brightly.

Guy Fawkes

image from http://www.theguardian.com     Standing around the bonfire on Guy Fawkes night

This then was the bonfire night or Guy Fawkes night of my childhood. After the long reminiscing last night I really wanted to share with you a highlight from my childhood days when fun and frivolity were just that, simple and light-hearted with no one getting hurt or playing cruel pranks. That came later, but not when we enjoyed it. I hope you can get an idea of what it was like for us.

Blessings and light-hearted reminiscing.

Ciao, Susan x

© Susan Jamieson 2013

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image from keithferrazzi.com

I’m ready to admit to having a little brain fog today. Well, if you insist, it’s a lot of brain fog today and I can’t really explain why today is any different from hundreds of others, except, I only had an hours sleep and since I had suggested an outing today I’ve been staggering around like a zombie most of the day. In fact Lucy (above) just about fits the right picture when I opened Word Press and got to my  ‘page’ and saw…..

Like the Three Bears in Goldilocks, “Whose been messing around with my page?”

Stunned surprise and bafflement. I haven’t seen anything to tell me any changes were coming. That’s not to say there hasn’t been a notification, I’ve been really lax with my emails today too. Bright lights hurt my eyes which in turn laser into my frontal lobe. Very unpleasant. Thinking is a painful suggestion. It’s a strange concept, but I need to think to put fingers to keyboard.

So, getting back to Lucy. I could never understand how she became so famous for making such exaggerated faces and having so many foul ups. I think I’m beginning to understand. It’s all a matter of experience. When she was a byword on National television I really wasn’t into slapstick comedy very much.  Very serious person indeed. It almost went with the career I think, or at least it did for me. Until today.

image from araneus1.wordpress.com Singing sweetly in the Jacaranda he looked so beautiful.

We went to visit one of my favourite haunts, the Crystal Castle. It is filled with hundreds upon hundreds of crystals, as you might expect, but in such a display that it takes your breath away. Just wandering through the rooms gives you a heady feeling. Of course it wouldn’t be quite the same if I didn’t pick up one or two little treasures, but that’s just an added perk. Yes, I could easily get carried away.

However, I wasn’t feeling too chipper so we decided to have a light snack and a nice latte at their organic cafe. All produce locally grown, much on the property itself, so I was sure it was going to be yummy. It was, a beautiful spinach and four cheese roll with salad. Delicious.  There are signs everywhere asking the patrons not to feed the birds since it isn’t any good for them. There is also a delicious carrot and walnut cake with cream cheese topping on offer, a favourite from the way it disappeared from the counter.

Yummy carrot and walnut cake, cream cheese topping

This was delivered to the next table to us, a delicious piece of carrot cake. The temptation to take photos is almost overwhelming since the views are incredible and that is what distracted this couple. They moved away from their table to take some photos. In a swoop reminiscent of a diving magpie after a cyclist, a magpie floated down from the Jacaranda tree and landed on the table and promptly set to with gusto.  Of course the first peck into the cake filled his beak with cream cheese! He couldn’t swallow it, he couldn’t open his beak and he couldn’t get rid of it.

He banged his beak left and right on the plate and then the table and all the while the couple were happily snapping away. I couldn’t stop laughing at the sight. It doesn’t sound that funny, but it looked hilarious, so much so I couldn’t hold the camera to get a photo. So the carrot cake will have to do.

So Lucy, I understand all those comic faces. I pulled one when I suddenly saw my page completely different and I pulled a dozen more watching this magpie, especially when the couple turned and saw what was happening. Then I had to pull more funny faces trying to hide that I was laughing so much.  Headache time here I came!

image from blogs.sacurrent.com     Yes, I LOVE LUCY now. 

So there we have it, one sober day (no alcohol included) shot to pieces by a magpie stuck on cream cheese. You simply had to be there.

Happy Sunday people.

Ciao, Susan x

© Susan Jamieson 2013

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Time marches on image from http://www.writebalance.com

“If we had no winter, the spring would not be so pleasant: if we did not sometimes taste of adversity, prosperity would not be so welcome.”     Anne Bradstreet 

We are just beginning to feel the nip in the air at night which is letting us know that Autumn is here. There  are so many reports of the cold still in the UK as they approach their Spring. It seems as though we are out of step with ‘the rest’ of the world.

Many of the great poets and writers I grew up with hail from the northern hemisphere so it is natural to find this imbalance.  For all those who come to live here it means not merely a cultural change but a climatic change also. In some ways I’m unsure which is the harder to adapt to.  I still think fondly of snow at Christmas, holly and mistletoe, bare trees and snowflakes softly falling from the skies. Of course, that is the romantic side of winter, it forgets the chill of frigid winds and wet sludge as the snow is churned to mush underfoot.  The huddle around the fire and the wishing for Spring to arrive.

I’m reminded of these things since we moved to Byron, such a short distance from the Gold Coast and Queensland, but it has made a difference in the weather and air temperature, the pace of life and the feel of the earth moving through its rhythmic seasons. I feel that I am reconnecting with nature and Mother Earth once more and there is an excitement pouring through my veins I find soothing and exhilarating.

Rejuvenating for the soul and body image from justthespot.com.au

“Waves are the voices of tides. Tides are life,” murmured Niko. “They bring new food for shore creatures, and take ships out to sea. They are the ocean’s pulse, and our own heartbeat.”    ― Tamora Pierce, Sandry’s Book

I sit here watching the ocean rolling in. I can hear its sound day and night. The breeze blows soft or strong and in a storm it batters the windows wildly.

I see the sunrise peeking over the horizon, warming the earth and waking life. I watch the moonrise, pink and mysterious, lighting the ocean with its mystical light. As the moon rises I see the stars appear, brightly sparkling as we are away from the hubbub and rush of life. Mars is shinning red in the sky at present gifting us with a special show.

Pink Moon Magic

Pink Moon Magic

Summer ends, and Autumn comes, and he who would have it otherwise would have high tide always and a full moon every night.   Hal Borland

Pausing often to think as the day rolls by I’m reminded how much simpler things were when I looked at the world through a child’s eyes. My memories are of the love which surrounded me from my family, especially my parents who are no longer with me. The fun and excitement of birthdays and Christmas. Building snowmen and snowball fights even if the cold nipped at fingers and toes.

I remember walking along under the Autumn suns failing warmth, leaves of a myriad colour crunching crisply underfoot. I recall the excitement as the first buds were seen on the trees and the bluebells pushed their way through the cold earth and began nodding their delicate heads in the sun. I smile with delight at the images of summer, of heath and heather, trees and flowers, daffodils, jonquils, carnations and roses, hyacinth and myrtle, all spreading their delightful scents along the soft breezes.

colourful autumn foliage image from http://www.metoffice.gov.uk

Snowball fights, cold fun, tingling fingers and toes image from http://www.guardian.co.uk

A carpet of fragile bluebells, Spring has arrived. image from http://www.forestpictures.co.uk

How does your garden grow? image from http://www.horniman.ac.uk

All things change, as all things must. Children see with children’s eyes the magic adults often walk by. Our inner child works hard reminding us of things we may have forgotten and in remembering we are made rich beyond imagining once more. Who indeed would refuse to wander through the happy memories of our childhood once more?

Blue skies, ocean breeze, peace and tranquility - Byron Bay

Blue skies, ocean breeze, peace and tranquility – Byron Bay

Childhood brings diamonds to life in our memories.  Going back and revisiting places may never be the same yet they are still diamonds. It all depends on how you look at them

Life is full of beauty. Notice it. Notice the bumble bee, the small child, and the smiling faces. Smell the rain, and feel the wind. Live your life to the fullest potential, and fight for your dreams.”      Ashley Smith

May your life be a collage of the beautiful memories of childhood.

Bless  Susan x

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