A Day In The Life Of Maggie May

Photo Copyright: Maggie May

For once, I am at a loss as to what to post about. This doesn't happen very often. I usually have plenty to say on my blog.

I won't bore you with more rabbit antics and there doesn't seem to be anything much going on in my garden to write about. No lovely flowers in bloom. My wind chimes are tightly tied up as it is quite cold and I don't often go outside unless I have to, so I might as well leave them tied up for the Winter.

However the photo of the roses taken in early summer, will help us along during the cold weather. We can imagine they are still in flower.

So I will just write about today and that happens to be a Sunday.

It started off with me getting up rather late so everything seemed to be a rush after that. It was eight o'clock before I awoke. That might sound early to some people but I usually like to get up at 7 am.

By the time I fed the rabbits and transferred them from their sleeping quarters to their run, I had breakfast, while attempting to do the easy Crossword from Harry's paper, made the bed and got ready for Church and the time was really slipping away.

There were no children in our house today.The granddaughters were here yesterday but today we have to ourselves.

In Church, I hate reading out or talking from the front. They know me well and do not expect me to do that, but during my battle with cancer, they have asked me to write about my feelings and experiences so that they can be read out. Today my third letter was read out to the congregation. Obviously I had agreed to do this beforehand, as I had a complete openness about my illness all along.

Probably, I can express myself better in writing. I have always been like that.

So anyway, that is what I did this morning. After meeting up with friends, we then came home.

I cooked a quick lunch. I don't do roasts these days. We had a quick stir-fry. I think I associate doing Sunday roast dinners with being chained to the cooker. In my mother's day, it would have been scandalous not to have cooked one. So as soon as I could, I shed that tradition.

The local radio jolted me into realising that Christmas is much nearer than I had anticipated. As we are near the end of November, I suppose it is common sense, but I have only just realised how unready I am going to be this year.

So I decided to start writing Christmas cards. I got out the list from last year and unfortunately had to strike off one or two names of people who have died. This always happens every year.

So that is what I have been doing this afternoon. I am still supposed to be doing the cards but decided my post needs to be changed. Now I have started doing this task, and the table is still full of cards and address books.

I did a pile of ironing in between.

I am seriously disorganised.

Later on, I watch Strictly Come Dancing, on BBC1 television. One of the live shows that I am hooked on.

So hope you haven't been too bored with my day. I never do seem to get bored myself.

I wonder what you did?

Happy Easter Everyone

Photos Copyright: Maggie May

In my last post, I wrote that Harry and I would be going to Church on Good Friday, that is if you waded through my froggy encounter first.

I wrote about collections of miniature crosses and the fact that a friend of mine had made me a lovely model of one, hand crafted out of stained glass and held together with lead and soldering, just like the church windows of old, in a tiny sort of way.

I am writing this after just coming back from The Good Friday Service and our church was decorated with these displays, so it was no surprise to me, to learn that most of the time was spent emphasising The Cross and how Jesus died for me........ and for you too. Forgive me if you are not Christian........ I am not stuffing this down your throat, just telling you of my interpretation of the Good Friday service and the service that will be so different on Easter Sunday.

So during this morning's service, we were invited to come to the front of the church, where there were two baskets of tiny wooden crosses...... each one of them skilfully carved out of a chunk of wood by some one somewhere, unknown to me.

By taking a cross we would have a lasting reminder of the sacrifice Jesus made for us.

When I got home, I wondered if I would have enough crosses of my own to illustrate this post (as I like to use my own photos.) My glass cross will still be on display in church until Sunday when I can collect it. So off I went for a little search about the house and I found a suitable Easter card, a couple of crosses on chains, a letter opener in the shape of a sword that is still a cross, an earring, a minute bible with a cross on it, as well as the tiny wooden cross that I was given today.

I also have my celtic cross on the wall in the garden.

So I am constantly reminded of the message from this morning, but I really didn't need the reminders because the message is in my heart.

There are no bodies on our crosses because the whole point of the cross is.......... that Jesus didn't stay on it, but was put in a tomb and on the third day he rose again, so the Easter Sunday service will be a joyous affair.

There folks....... that is the whole point of Easter but we can also celebrate our rabbits and fluffy lambs and chicks and the chocolate eggs as they all are symbolic of new life.

Which leads me to say, I hope you all have a very Happy Easter, whatever your persuasion of faith or belief.

Lets hope the weather is dry and sunny and that we can all enjoy Springtime at its best.

Definitely my favourite time of the year.

Encounter with a Large Frog

Photos copyright:Maggie May

Just before I started my last treatment, I did a small amount of gardening. Mostly weeding around the patio. I usually collect all the weeds and other garden refuse in a large green container which I keep in the back garden. I went to pick this up in order to carry the garden waste to the special bin that the council empties that is kept in the front garden. As we are in a terrace we have to take it through the house.

Look what I found in the green container. At first I thought it was a toad but on further examination, I realised that it was a large, British common frog. It was obviously a female as it had left frog spawn in every container of every size that had been left about with water in.

Fortunately, I had my camera handy and the frog didn't seem to be in any hurry to move, so I had to tip it out near the little pond ( which is actually an industrial builder's bucket sunk into the earth.) This does attract quite a bit of wild life even though it is a tiny pond.

Mrs Frog didn't seem to be in any hurry to go any place and stayed looking at the water for ages. I think she really liked the green container best and seemed unfazed by the large statue.

This afternoon, I had my brother Eddie and sister in law, Maria round for lunch. It made a lovely change for them to go somewhere different and I have never known a day go so quickly. Eddie is doing so well following his hip replacement.

We all over ate and one of us fell asleep after lunch..... though I won't say who it was, Eddie!

While they were here, the toilet handle snapped off on the inside of the cistern. Isn't that always the way? We need a plumber on a Bank Holiday and these things always seem to happen when we have company.

Tomorrow being Good Friday, Harry and I will go to Church. Outside the church, there is a large wooden cross and inside the building there is a display of dozens of tiny crosses that people had made themselves the week before. One of them was made of stained glass and made by a friend (who said she had hand made it specially for me.) So when the display is over, I can take it home.

Although I haven't seen it yet, I know it will be beautiful because she is really good at this craft. I am well pleased.

In the afternoon, we will go for a walk and eat hot cross buns for tea.

What will everyone else be doing?

Sunshine After Snow

Photo copyright: Maggie May

Sometime ago, before the snow came and long before my chemotherapy, I took a photo of this cross made out of pansies in the front of a church not too far away. Today it is sunny and I went to my own Church and the sunshine was a sign that today is the beginning of my starting to feel stronger and over the next two weeks I will pick up and feel normal...... ready for the next onslaught. No, I must not think like that or else I would get too depressed. I live one day at a time. That is the only way. I am a fighter and I won't give in! I must remember that.

I looked into my photo folder and wondered how to illustrate this post. The cross sort of jumped out at me. Yes........ a new beginning. Keep my eye on the cross. I have to start from scratch and build myself up all over again.

It was good that there wasn't any snow to have to contend with on my way. I didn't have to worry about slipping and the sunshine was heartening.

People in church asked me just how chemotherapy affected me. Well today I felt physically very wobbly.

All I know is that I cannot speak coherently. I have what the hospital calls *chemo brain*. I think writing is easier than speaking as I just can't get out the right words when I try to speak. I am hoping that these brain cells of mine are not being killed off, but only stunned, as at my age I need every one of them.

The last five days have been really bad. However there were some improvements to last time. I wasn't sick and I didn't suffer from the hallucinations that were obviously caused by all the steroids that I had before.

I was very weak and for several days I felt that I might die from exhaustion but I guess I am a tough cookie and it will take more than this to finish off Maggie May! The very worst thing that I have to bear is two days of screaming joint pain. It is irritation of the nerves in all my limbs. That is a recognised side effect that the hospital gave me and I guess there is no way round it.

All the while that I was lying watching TV or listening to the news, when I couldn't do anything else, I kept thinking that even in my sorry state I am still better off than the people in Haiti. That terrible earthquake and the plight of the people played on my mind greatly.

I would like to thank everyone for the continued prayers that have been sent for me and for all the thoughts and gestures that come my way. It means a lot to me.

I hope my brain will clear and that I can get off this chemo subject for a while....... it seems to have taken me over. There used to be a life outside of it but that seems like a dream now.

The Things Children Say........

Working with children and having access to grandchildren sometimes causes me to smile. Its the things they say.

Millie, my youngest Grandchild, suddenly asked me, "Granny, what is your bottom like?"

Somewhat taken aback, I quickly composed myself by saying, "Much the same as yours, only bigger."

A sudden look of mischief spread across her face and she lunged towards me in glee.

I can almost read her mind at times and as I ran away from her, I screamed, "But you're not looking!"

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I was wondering what to get for the evening meal not long ago and I just happened to say in front of Millie, "I wonder what to get for granddad's dinner?"

"Fruit," she suggested.

"I think he needs something more than that to get his teeth stuck into," I replied.

"What teeth," she said. 

Now as far as I remember he has never taken out his teeth in front of either of the girls. Is it feminine intuition starting at an early age? Admittedly she is a bit older than she was in this photograph, but is only just four years old!

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At Church this morning our Minister was trying to illustrate a point by asking the children in the congregation, "What did you learn at school last week?"

A bright young boy of about seven years old replied, "We learned that the school was closed." (Because of snow.)

Its That Time Of Year Again.

Hosted by Cecily and MamaGeek

 

For some reason we seem to keep this card from year to year and it always turns up somewhere or other in the Christmas displays of cards.

This little, rather tacky Nativity model was bought recently from a charity shop at a very cheap price.

The reason that I bought it was because I thought that my granddaughters would ask me questions about it and I could then explain who the characters were. I thought it would appeal to small children more than the traditional picture above.

Having been brought up for their first few years in Japan, they are officially Shinto/Buddhist.

This is because they were born over there and they have inherited this religion. It's more of a tradition than a personal belief, though.

It has turned out that there was no need for me to have to explain anything about the little figures, because school is teaching them about Christianity already.

I was really pleased when Amber, the oldest granddaughter, told me that she believed that Jesus had died for her and that he is now in Heaven. She explained everything to me in great detail.

I was amazed because I didn't think that state schools still taught Christianity, as the one they go to is not a Church School. Well, after all it is Christmas, so why shouldn't they be taught what Christianity is about?

Maybe the other religions will get a look in later on........ I don't know, but for now, I am pleased that the school has started the ball rolling.

Millie the youngest granddaughter took one look and said,"Oh no, that is so embarrassing."

As we thought this was a rather unusual thing for a four year old to say, we asked her what she meant.

"There are too many people in the house, there are only mean to be three!" So obviously she also has been taught about the fact that Mary and Joseph and baby Jesus were in the stable.

My Grandsons are already Christian, the oldest by choice and the younger one is thinking about taking a step further. They are familiar with Church and go regularly.

In the end, it has to be a personal decision. It is my belief though, that if children don't know what the faith is about, they can't make a decision and that would be a great pity, I think. 

This post and photography is for Photostory Friday, hosted by Cicely and MamaGeek.

Cheers To The Girl in Bangladesh!

My regular readers will remember that I wrote about the dangers of recycling when I injured my foot through stomping on Sam's beer cans. This had to be done so that I could compact them down into the bottom of bags of foil and aluminium for Church. Feeling slightly embarrassed that we were now contributing beer cans in quite a big way and that we might be thought of as secret drinkers approaching alcoholism, I hid the cans under all the other foil from pies and things.

What does Church want with them anyway, you might well ask? Well they sponsor a little girl in Bangladesh with the proceeds of the aluminium after it is sold. This provides her with a meal a day and an education that she would not otherwise receive. So I suppose it could be an incentive for my son to drink up!

I don't really care too much about what other people think of me. In fact the older I get, the more I can get away with bizarre behaviour, as I can always blame my age and have been doing that for years! Several bloggers advised me to purchase a can crusher to save my feet from getting further damaged and I am now the proud owner of a deluxe model that is mounted on the kitchen wall. It is quite therapeutic crushing down cans! There's something a bit pathetic about that statement, isn't there? If the lever of the can crusher is pulled correctly and the can turned upside down so that the air is forced out of it, all is well. However, every now and then the crumpled can is liable to leap out when you least expect it to. There should be a warning on these contraptions to use protective goggles!

Now I have developed a horrible habit of picking up cans from the pavement. Usually they have been flung from cars onto the pavement and I turn the cans upside down to let left over liquid to trickle into the gutter. Sometimes I get odd looks as I really don't look like a down and out who needs to slurp down other people's leftovers hurriedly.

I have been known to say, "If everybody picked up a can, the street would be a lot cleaner!" I am also thinking of the little girl in Bangladesh, as I'm sure she doesn't care where the money for her meal comes from. Whether its from coke or beer cans, from the street or anywhere else.

After my can crushing, I wash my hands carefully in case someone really horrid dropped the cans and I watch with fascination as the bag fills up quite quickly with little two inch condensed can stumps.

So I don't really care anymore who thinks what! After all, I know that I hardly drink at all and I say, "Cheers," to the Bangladeshi girl, when others do! 

Go To Church And Lose A Brother?

Some of my early memories are quite vivid and every now and again I start to think of my childhood..........

We lived on the edge of a small town in the north of England and when I was five years old and my brother Godfrey was only half that age, my mum and dad tried to get us to go to church. I was, by then attending the local church school so I think they were both under pressure to attend the church, next door to it. During the services there was much sitting, kneeling and standing and Godfrey used to crawl along the pews at an amazing speed and my parents managed several times to rescue him from large ladies and gents who were about to squash him when they sat down.

It was decided, because of the difficulty of controlling Godfrey, that Mum would take me to church while Dad stayed at home and looked after my brother. There were no creches in those days.

"You will keep your eye on him, won't you?" Mum implored, as she knew only too well how absent minded my father was when he was absorbed in his music & reading and all his other hobbies that completely engrossed him.

"Of course I will," he said, closing the door behind us. I think I knew even at that age that there might be a bit of a problem looming up!

On our return home from church, Godfrey was nowhere to be seen. Dad said he could remember him playing in the garden only five minutes before we arrived home, so he couldn't be far away. Mum was very distraught and rapidly searched the house, garden and near friends and neighbours. However, he was not to be seen anywhere.

There was a duck pond down the lane and my mum thought Godfrey might have gone there on his own. We were used to going with her to feed the ducks, so he knew the way. A  local man had once told us that a horse and cart had galloped into the pond out of control and had disappeared into the water without trace, so we knew it was deep.

Mum grabbed me and together we rushed down the lane towards the pond as by now we had visions of him lying face down in the water. Thankfully, when we got to the pond, there was no trace of him, but we both remembered the story of the horse and cart that was never seen again.

I remember feeling really uncomfortable & despairing when my mum collapsed into a heap on the grass verge with her hands over her face, sobbing uncontrollably. I happened to look up the lane towards the main road and I saw an old lady holding Godfrey by the hand and she was knocking on the doors of houses along the road.  My mum dragged me and we raced as fast as my legs would carry me to the main road.

"What do you think you are doing with him?" she accused the old lady. 

The lady looked hurt and told Mum that she had found Godfrey by himself trying to cross the main road & she had been knocking on house doors trying to find out where he lived, without success. Mum caught him up in her arms. "I've been looking for him everywhere," she said "And you've been taking him further away from home."

Although I was only five years old, I can remember thinking how unfair my mum was being with the old lady, who had obviously been only trying to help Godfrey and I felt very embarrassed by her remark.

We turned towards home.

My dad was the centre of a major row and it was years before Mum and I ever went to Church together again.

The Terrible Twins

My husband Harry is an identical twin, half an hour older than his brother.

They were born long before scans were invented & it was a complete shock to their mother, when a second baby popped out!

Their father must have been still suffering from shock when he entered the name Harry on the birth certificate instead of Harold, the name he had been instructed by his wife to use. He entered his second son as Laurence & they have been known as Harry & Larry ever since, like Tweedledum & Tweedledee, opposite sides of bookends, very alike even now.

When they sit together, they cross their legs in the same way & at the same time & have the same mannerisms. They visit each other twice a week & phone each other several times a day.

It must have been a nightmare for their teachers, as when they were young, they wore identical clothes & often changed roles to the point of accepting each other's punishments. They were known as "The Terrible Twins".

Even today they are often mistaken for each other & people get very confused when one of them completely ignores a friend of the other twin.

By far the funniest incident occurred when our daughter, Debbie, was marrying Rupert at the church where we were very well known. The bridegroom, best man & the rest of the congregation were expecting Harry to appear with the bride at any moment, before walking up the aisle together. The bridesmaids were already outside the church & there was an air of expectancy hanging over everyone.

The vicar suddenly noticed Larry sitting in the pew near the front, with the other relatives.

He seemed agitated & rushed over . "Harry, you are meant to be with Debbie, what are you doing here?" He managed to gasp. Of course he didn't realize that there were two of them, never having met Larry before.

During the wedding reception, several people asked Harry why he kept changing his suit, not knowing that Larry was also mingling with the crowd in a suit of a different shade & style.

A few years ago, Larry injured his back & was supposed to be lying flat while recovering. Harry was up a ladder painting the outside of his brother's house, when he was noticed by some one who knew Larry was on sick benefit. Now that took a bit of explaining!

In case anyone is wondering ............ no! I have never muddled Harry with Larry & neither has Rhoda, my sister in law ............ at least, not that I know of!