A Year on - Picking Up The Pieces

It's a year now since my mother died, and it's been the worst year ever. Five months later my father died too. A week after that, we learned Dylan our dog had untreatable cancer. Together they proved devastating. There can't be any hard and fast rule about how soon you should get back to 'normal' after losing someone close, or how you should go about it. I just know that the loss of both parents and Dylan the dog left me wrecked, but maybe slowly I'm beginning to pick the pieces up and start again. Life does go on, even if it's in a completely new shape.

I've completely lost any sense of time. This whole year has passed in a blur. I look around me now, see that summer's over, it's September almost October, and wonder how I got here; much of the last few months is lost in a fog.


For a while, staggering along under a heap of grief, I felt it was necessary to get to a calmer place before re-starting life. There were so many things I wanted to do, places I wanted to go, but the mood never felt right.
I'd managed to make the big decisions - what to do with my parents' house, which of their many possessions to keep, which to give away or to charity shops -  but apart from going walking, I couldn't bring myself to do anything non-essential.

I wanted to go on holiday,
I wanted to get fitter again,
I wanted to stop eating ready meals and start cooking again -
but I wasn't ready to do any of this yet, because things didn't feel right. If I'd waited till they did, I'd never have done anything this year. A bit of external impetus was needed.


While we were wondering if, when, and where we should take a few days away, I heard of a book launch taking place in Norwich - it proved the catalyst to get me moving. We organised our days away, with an evening in Norwich in mind.  A second slightly longer holiday had to be planned around our youngest daughter's holidays. I took my holidays.

The first couple of days away left me exhausted, and I realised that to really enjoy my second break I had to get fitter NOW. Not massively 'run a marathon' fit - just enough to walk round Edinburgh for a couple of days, and then along some forest trails - so I started walking, often going out in the early evening, trying to make that 10,000 step target two or three times a week. I started getting fitter.

The allotment suddenly went into overdrive - producing a huge glut of marrows while we were away, so I had to find ways to use them, and got back to jam-making. Then blackberries, raspberries and runner beans started to crop, and coping with produce became a full time activity, finding interesting ways to serve things rather than just cram everything into the freezer. I ditched the ready meals.

Without these little 'pushes' from outside, I never would have attempted to do anything. I'd still be hoping to find that peaceful place, but getting out and doing things, even when I didn't overly feel like doing them, has helped immensely.


In Norfolk, the sun shone, I went paddling, and something inside started to thaw.
In Scotland, I re-visited favourite places, walked through forests, went swimming, and something healed.
Going out walking regularly, and having to deal with  all the allotment fruit and veg, took me out of myself, gave me something else to focus on.
I'm still often sad and 'down', but I'm no longer completely immersed in grief. This first anniversary seems a good point to start again.

Timber - enlighten, educate and inspire

I've already written an overview of Timber Festival, but there was so much going on - from music, to debates, to circus skills workshops - that one post isn't enough to cover everything. For this one I'm going to concentrate on the 'serious' side of things.

Situated on a 70 acre site at Feanedock in the National Forest, Timber has at its heart a 'mission' to celebrate trees, and educate festival-goers about matters relating to trees - the part we might be playing in their destruction, how on the other hand they can help the fight against climate change or heal land once damaged by industry and mining, how they can help us as individuals by providing a space for outdoor pursuits, and promoting relaxation and mindfulness. There were a lot of things to be learned over the weekend, and I definitely came away inspired to make changes in my life.


Over the three days there were a LOT of talks and panels connected with the subject, so I'm concentrating on those which had most affect either at the time or now that I've had time to consider things.

First up was a minor disappointment - the Extinction Rebellion talk didn't really tell me anything new. I am though the sort of person who's always had an interest in 'green' issues and I read a lot of  online articles relating to climate change so perhaps I'm not an average person in this regard (for example, I've just clicked through onto one link that claimed human civilisation would end by 2050). I'd hoped that Extinction Rebellion would have been able to point me in a direction of doing something useful - protesting in London may raise general awareness, and influence government and corporations outlook, but I was hoping for something constructive to do in my day to day life, and they didn't really seem to address this aspect. Their only positive suggestion was planting trees to clear CO2, which definitely influenced our decision to join the Woodland Trust over the weekend.



The four members of the Slow Living panel talked about the ways they personally attempted to bring the outdoors into their everyday life. There were simple suggestions such as starting the day by going outside (if it's too cold or wet at least standing at the door to experience what the world is like without the benefit of central heating), or taking daily walk which, even living in a city, will generally bring us into contact with nature - urban trees, parks, or even wildflowers which spring up along road and pavement edges.

To take the idea further, you could try foraging - I've seen elder trees (for flowers and berries) and wild roses (for their hips) growing as 'weeds' in Salford - or even living 'outside' for a period of time (two of the panel had spent months living in yurts or bell-tents, but for me a couple of days of summer camping is enough!). With reference to the mindfulness of slow living, they talked about taking the time to cook a 'proper' meal from scratch, or just brew coffee. In the past I've foraged, collecting elderflowers for wine, and crab apples and sloes for preserves, and spent more time in the garden, and through this felt more attuned to the seasons but somehow with years of tending my parents I seem to have lost that connection. I intend to try some of their ideas - start with the simple and easy, and work my way up (but not the live-in-a-tent idea). I feel as well that instead of waiting for a period of life when I feel I have time to do these things, I should do them NOW, and let everything else fit in around them.






Mentioning the word 'should' brings me to Luke Turner, and a curiously inspiring talk from someone who doesn't really seem to 'get' nature. He's tried it. Been out in the woods - Epping Forest. Didn't like it. Depending on his mood, 'nature' seemed dull or frightening, but he believed it was his fault, that somehow he wasn't doing things properly because everyone says it is what you SHOULD do to help depression, but it wasn't working. This has a proper title, The Tyranny of Should, coined by a German psychoanalyst in relation to the ideal self we might strive after, but which isn't always attainable. For Turner, it meant that in seeking to alleviate depression, he'd been forcing himself into a situation he wasn't comfortable with, and certainly not a relaxing one. We all need to find our own ways to happiness, and accept that one solution doesn't fit everyone.





I'd intended to catch one of the organised forest bathing sessions but something about an organised relaxation class seems oxymoronic. Accidentally, a short chat with a security man on one of the quieter entrances led me in a similar direction. Sitting quietly on the edge of the festival site he'd been surprised at the number of  birds, butterflies and even animals that appeared when he was alone. This inspired me to do a little on my own - taking time away from the main festival site to explore the quieter area of surrounding woodland, to listen to the birds (I could only identify wood pigeons) and a dog barking far in the distance, look closely at the trees and wild flowers instead of rushing past. It's easy to take the time, to stop and really look around, and something I'll try to achieve on future walks or maybe just while sitting in the garden.



In all, I came home with a lot of food for thought and good intentions on how I might change my life for the better. Watch this space, and see how it goes!

For more about my weekend, specifically entertainment, see here  'music and more' and 'practicalities - camping, food and toilets'

Mapperley Reservoir, Shipley Country Park

It's my belief that sunny evenings shouldn't be spent indoors, so off we went to Shipley Country Park one warm day earlier this week.

We didn't want a long walk, so parked by Mapperley reservoir and ambled round it. Along the northern bank there's a footpath which stays close to the water, leading to designated fishing spots, but it's been re-surfaced recently and is a bit stony and uncomfortable to walk on for now, so we followed the bridal path which is set further away from the reservoir.



















There were lots of wild flowers to be seen - red campion, cow parsley and dandelion clocks on this stretch with bluebells under the trees on the southern side, and even a couple of rhododendrons with their huge showy flowers.

And lots of things for a dog to investigate.

As we arrived back at the dam end of the reservoir, the sun was just setting - so good timing on our part for once

There were coots and mallards swimming around but walking back across the dam to the car park we spotted this exotic guy - a mandarin duck.

Bow Wood Bluebells

 Bluebells are in flower again so it's time to head out to Bow Wood near Cromford.





















We chose a slightly different walk this time - shorter and not so steep, zigzagging back and forth on the side of the hill rather than up and over which we thought would be too strenuous for Dylan the dog.

Sunshine through birch trees

I'd hoped the path would bring us out higher, to see the open field of flowers at the top of Bow Wood, (see the longer walk here) but, after initially rising, it curved gently downhill to the back of the John Smedley factory.

It was only a mile or so in length but even so we saw an incredible amount of bluebells, and this will definitely be an easier path to follow with my grandson in a year or two.

As if the bluebells weren't exciting enough in themselves, we also spotted a heron in flight, and a fox slinking his/her way across a nearby field.

a well-earned rest

As the walk had turned out shorted than expected, and Dylan was still fairly energetic, we added on a short detour along Lea Bridge spur of Cromford canal, before returning to the car near High Peak Junction.

Cheering myself up with some Skinny Lister!

This had been going to be one of my normal 'went to a gig and took bad photos' sort of posts, but since I saw shanty-punks Skinny Lister a week or so ago in Nottingham I've been chatting here and there on social media about things which always raise my spirits, help me relax, and generally make me feel good.

 And I realised that in every conversation sooner or later I ended up mentioning Skinny Lister. 

So, there's a slightly different twist to this gig post.

  We'd bought these tickets ages ago, back in November or some such distant time, as I didn't want to miss out. The last couple of months, though, have been emotionally rough, and I wasn't really feeling in the mood for going out.













The day before I'd even been talking about not going; trying instead to sell my ticket. If others hadn't been going with me, I'd have stayed at home. I'm glad I didn't follow through with that plan, as a night out, singing loudly (not necessarily tunefully), jigging about, and clapping, was just the thing to help me forget my troubles.







I started the night off a little down-hearted. Normally I'd be cheering the minute the band came on stage - this time I wasn't. I'd sing along from the first song - this time I barely clapped. A Skinny Lister crowd, though, is noisy, energetic, and enthusiastic, roaring out the words and almost drowning the band. Gradually something loosened inside me.

Since I discovered Skinny Lister a few years ago, I've always found their gigs to be something special. You don't sit quietly and listen to them perform; you need to forget your inhibitions and join in. Singing along is part of the whole thing, as it was with the original sea shanties (be prepared though, Skinny Lister versions are a lot more 'rock' than the originals). Sure, it needs the band to be there leading, but the atmosphere is more like a (large) gang of friends getting together, and having a sing-song. At Rescue Rooms there's a big enough crowd that you don't feel everyone's listening to your singing, but it's small enough to keep the party atmosphere.You'll find their music on Spotify and all the usual places but a live show is amazing. I've tried my best to capture that feeling in my photos but it hasn't really worked; it is, though, why there are as many pics of the crowd as of the band (plus I didn't have a brilliant view of the stage)




I've heard often enough that music and singing are incredible mood-enhancers, but never quite believed it - I suspect because the folk claiming it didn't like the same kind of music that I do. I'm now convinced of it. I've read recently that clapping is also an incredible mood-enhancer - and again there's a lot of clapping along to the beat of a Skinny Lister gig.To be honest, none of these seem like the right things to do when you're feeling sad, but they most definitely worked for me. Not only did my mood change for that night, it's still more positive a week later.

Treats to brighten up January

It's post-Christmas, and January is cold and miserable. By February there'll hopefully be snowdrop gardens to visit, crocuses flowering, and Spring to look forward to, but January is in my opinion the dullest month of the year. So, armed with my 'Christmas money' I've been treating myself.


As a small child, when toys were always fun, I never really appreciated being given money instead of something I could play with, (also, I was so often made to put some in my post office account) but as I turned into a teenager I realised that having what seemed like a considerable amount of money to spend just as I pleased was a great idea. I still feel the same. Don't get me wrong, I love prettily wrapped presents from my nearest and dearest, something chosen with care and love, but sometimes it's nice to be able to go out and treat yourself, without having to justify the expenditure - and, admit it, January is full of tempting sales bargains.



I started, as many of us no doubt would, with new clothes - some tops, a new dress, which is too tight and I REALLY need to slim down to get into, but it so gorgeous and was an amazing bargain.


Then I got tempted by an on-line yarn sale ... Since my grandson's been born, I've been gradually getting back into knitting (particularly when binge-watching box-sets) and I thought it was time to make something for myself so, despite the mass of odds and ends hoarded away, I treated myself to some half-price wool to make a cardigan - it's also the perfect colour to go with some of my newly purchased tops.







On a trip to the DIY store for paint, I found myself bringing home a few plants from the 'reduced to clear' rack  - a carnation, six wallflowers and 24 pansies - all for £1.50!

For now they're living on the work surface in the porch waiting for the weather to improve but in spring I hope the garden will be a mass of colour.












My one trip in deliberate search of sale bargains nearly failed. I went looking for shoes or boots, and couldn't find any to suit, or at least that I thought were reduced enough in price. But the day was saved by (half-price) chocolates! I love Hotel Chocolat goodies but they're a special treat and I'd never buy them for myself at full price. Remembering the newly-bought too-tight dress, I also picked up a dieting book in a sale.

Having shampoo to buy I found myself close to make-up counters so ... some 'Twitter blue' nail varnish and a luscious plum lipstick. Both were from teenage 'pocket money' brands but treats don't need to cost a fortune.








A joint treat to share with my husband (along with the chocolates). I'm a fan of Martin McDonagh (In Bruges, Seven Psychopaths) and saw this at the cinema. I wasn't sure my husband would enjoy it, but he did.











Those 'sale' e-mails just keep coming throughout January, don't they? I have one Emma Bridgewater mug with a pattern of oranges in, and this one makes a perfect, complementary but not matching, pair for it.








And, last though not least, having failed to find what I wanted in the shops, brought to me by the power of the internet, shoes!






Time to stop spending for a while now. Like a good little child, I shall save some money, for adults always have bigger treats they need -  new kitchen cupboards, a room or two in need of decoration - but they can wait till Spring.