Time

Time

‘Time is what prevents everything happening at once’ ~ Albert Einstein

First of all may I just wish everyone here in the Blogosphere a very belated Happy, Healthy, and Prosperous New Year in 2019! As they say in the film The Hunger Games ‘May the  odds be ever in your favour’. Could not resist saying that! ! I have not done much on here for a while, as my beautiful horse River had an acute bout of Sand Colic on Christmas Eve, undergoing emergency surgery that same day as this was his only chance of survival. It was truly a do or die moment. The very word ‘Colic’ instills fear in those of us with horses, as colic in horses can be fatal. The Christmas break consisted of daily trips to the Equine Hospital some thirty five miles away. Sometimes twice a day. That said, Christmas is a time of miracles, and my equine friend made it through surgery. He is back home now and all is going well, and the prognosis is good. So explanations and best wishes aside, it is time to set pen to paper or rather fingers to the keyboard click, click clacking once more.

Is there such a thing as real time or is time just an illusion?

Time is the one thing that once given can never be gotten back, so waste your time wisely seems to be good advice, that is of course if wasting your time can ever be wise. Whether we follow that advice or not is of course up to us but in my experience more often than not we do not waste it wisely but rather just waste it without due care and attention. We then later realise that we have been procrastinating over this, that and the other and time has somehow managed to escape us.  We ask ourselves, ‘Where did the time go?’ or ‘I lost track of time’. Even in these short few words written here, there are numerous references to that which we often refer  fondly to as Old Father Time. Old Father Time perhaps being a more favourable image of the Grim Reaper reminding us maybe that our time is limited. I am beginning to think that we are obsessed with the ticking of the clock; tick tock, tick tock.

We are often told that there is no time like the present, and yet we constantly dwell on the past, and wonder about the future, and therefore often miss the moment that is here and now. Time can be quite the conundrum, in that we have too much time on our hands, yet not enough hours in the day to get things done. Time is said to be a great Healer and yet Time waits for no man. Time is of the essence and yet often time eludes us and is scarce. We have too much time or not enough. We are short of time and time is short. There is no time to get things done and yet we are often told we have all the time in the World. So which is is?

Every second counts, and there is one born every minute, which could refer to any number of things. Time can be our friend or our foe depending on where you stand on the subject. We are often rushed for time, and that time in the day when we go to work and when we return home during peak hours is aptly named rush hour. There is that time before sunrise and sunset which is dubbed Golden hour. Sometimes we feel robbed of time. Our time is precious, so why oh why do we waste so much of it?

There is so much more that I could write on the subject of time as time is everlasting but just now for me, in this instant,  time is short and I must rush off in order to spend some time doing something that I love. Off to the stables it is then, to spend quality time with my much loved horse River who has been given extra time, so I look forward to some more happy times ahead. I thank you for your time, and hope that you will pop by in the future to spend a little time with me. Au revoir! 

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Today is the day ~ A Little Princess

Today is the day’ …was a collection of musings I wrote during the Peri menopause years. It’s spoken in the first person, and was based largely on my journal entries written around that time. Journalling is a wonderful way to express this, that and whatever else needs to be said whether aloud or silently…

The truth is kids grow into teenagers arriving at that crossroads in life when they are neither child nor adult not fitting neatly into one camp or another and my god, do they let you know it at every given opportunity. They are a breed apart from mainstream human society. I do not use the term breed lightly as I believe there is a certain animal quality inherent in any individual between 13 and 19. They think they know it all, they accuse you of not caring and tell you constantly that you do not understand them. They are constantly bored, always critical, totally self-obsessed, self opinionated and make it their aim in life to get on your nerves on a daily basis. Where once they were endearing and cuddly, suddenly they are obnoxious and rude to the point where you really cannot believe that they are yours and that you actually gave birth to them. It seems strange that at this moment I should recall Mary Shelly’s novel Frankenstein. I guess she was not the only one to create a monster. Perhaps I am being too hard on the little darlings and they are not the least bit like monsters but with retrospect, I sincerely think not. There is definitely some connection. Teenagers really do exist. We as parents often ask ourselves what is it that we did to deserve such treatment from our offspring, when all we ever have is their best interests at heart. Surely they should be grateful to us for putting a roof over their heads, food on the table, clothes on their backs and giving lifts to concerts, clubs, parties, friend’s houses, school, shopping and of course the school run which would not have been too bad but with my middle child that meant to school and from school until he left at 16 and doing the same for his mates was a bonus for me on most days. And what about holding their hands at the dentist, the orthodontist, doctors and in the school playground, well at least until they got too embarrassed by you and would rather you kept your distance. This last observance about distance seems to last well into their teens. God forbid that their friends, most of whom you have known since infants should see them with you, their parents. On the rare occurrence where our daughter granted us with her presence, on the premise that she would get a new iPhone saw her walk several paces behind with her hood up so as to avoid recognition by any of her friends that may be loitering in the vicinity.  In my own particular case the list also included daily trips to the stable yard, and weekly trips to the local golf club. Did I mention the ballet classes and the weekly football? Yet all we get in return for our considerateness is eyes up to heaven, monosyllabic grunts, tuts, shakes of the head  and mutterings under the breath to indicate how irritating they find you. You are old and are not the least bit clued up about where they are coming from or where they are going. They speak a whole new language…’you get what I’m saying like’ and so on and so forth. I have given up correcting speech and grammar in favour of a peaceful life by simply turning a deaf ear when they do speak. However, by doing this I get accused of never listening but then why should I when the language I grew up with has been murdered and mutilated beyond all recognition. I am on my third and final teenager now. My first two are now in their 20s and parents themselves. If what goes around comes around then I will take great pleasure in watching my children suffer the storms and strops of the turbulent teens in turn, a sort of divine retribution shall we say where the Piper is paid back in kind, and when mum can sit back with a smug smirk on her face in an all knowing way. 

Just now our baby girl, currently 16 going on 26, is uppermost in my thoughts. It has been like that a lot lately. Until a few short months ago she was a wild unkempt tom boy who resembled a pikey rather than a little princess. For instance, if I had mentioned the word bra to her she would have recoiled in mock disgust at the thought of it. It was all I could do to broach the subject when she eventually developed sufficiently ample bosoms to require one. I remember one time watching Trinny and Susannah unashamedly grab the breasts of a woman they were restyling on their makeover tv show only to be accused by my daughter of exposing her to pornography. If she had seen a couple kissing on television she would have looked away, genuinely embarrassed. How times change, now she has realised that she has a fine pair of what my husband terms man magnets, a really cringe worthy image, he is a builder and such terminology frequently finds its way into the house, and she is more than a little proud of what she has in common with Jordan and not the least bit shy or modest even. Oh yes, times have certainly changed. My little girl has gone and grown up on me without warning. She is no longer my chicken in the library or my ferocious lion with sharp teeth and claws but has donned the appearance of a diva come rock chick right down to her perfectly pointed stilettos. On the subject of stilettos, she did insist on wearing them the other day to go shopping with her mates. I did warn her. My exact words were, I think “ Are you sure you want to wear those shoes?” well of course she was sure, she liked them and they looked ‘dead good’. I had to agree they looked great but mentioned that she might feel differently about them after wearing them for a few hours around the shopping centre. I was of course proved right, and there was no need to rub it in by saying ‘I told you so’. It did not need to be said…the pain in her feet and legs said it all. I do not believe she has worn those shoes since. To think that we use to watch From Ladette to Lady on television, and laugh laboriously at the dreadful pits to which these young girls would sink. It never occurred to me that I was harbouring a ladette in the making, although I like to think that she still has a few ladylike leanings but that is most probably wishful thinking on my part. Perhaps it is just a passing phase, just one of many. I thought it would be easier this time, firstly because I have done this before with two boys both delightful little cherubs when they were born, well at least for the first few weeks. They do not remain babies for long, and before you know it they soon grow into the men they are to become albeit bit by bit. If the law of attraction is true and I have no reason to believe that it is not the old saying many a true word spoken in jest takes on an entirely new meaning. Why oh why did I ever jokingly liken my sons to notorious twins. What was I thinking? Actually, I clearly was not thinking at all. How was I to know that by saying such things I was tempting providence, and unknowingly urging the Universe to accommodate me.

© Liola Lee 2010

(image is one I took of my lovely daughter who is and will always be my Little Princess)

Today is the day ~ Let the day begin

Today is the day’ …was a collection of musings I wrote during the Peri menopause years. It’s spoken in the first person, and was based largely on my journal entries written around that time. Journalling is a wonderful way to express this, that and whatever else needs to be said whether aloud or silently…

Let the day begin

15th July 2010 (am)

I am sitting here in the dining room contemplating what I shall write about today. So often I just write whatever comes into my head, and wonder if what I am writing is worth writing or whether it is just meaningless nonsensical crap that no one will ever read. I determine I shall aim to write at least 500 words, after all if I am to be a writer I must in fact write. 

It is very windy outside this morning, so much so that the willow tree is swaying heavily from one side to another; a dancing yeti embracing the universe, reminding me that once again another year has passed and we have still to cut it back; something we have been promising the neighbours for the last few years. I was all set to have the tree brought under control by tree surgeons but they turned out to be rogue traders. I was not fooled for long though, and once the price started to increase I knew that they were trying to rip me off and told them so. Once they knew I was on to them, they made a hasty exit but not before they had partially butchered my beloved willow, and left an almighty mess in the back garden. 

I have decided today to try really hard to do things differently, because if I keep doing things as I have been doing them, then nothing will change, and I so desperately want things to change. I am not unhappy but I lack direction just now, and want to find a pathway to follow. I spend too much time sighing and procrastinating over things which is without doubt holding me back. Sitting here with my head held in my hands, and tapping my fingers incessantly on the table whilst looking at the screen, and willing words of wisdom to come forth does not seem to be working. I have already had three cups of coffee which is the same as always. Why oh why did I not begin the day with a lovely cup of tea? 

Anyway, today is the day for change. I have not done my Angel cards for a while so think I may seek guidance from my Angels as to what I should be focusing on today. I also need to change my hair as it is getting on my nerves. This has nothing to do with my hormones. It is simply that I have looked in the mirror and can see a follicle disaster in full swing. 

The willow tree is still waving. I do hope it does not blow down. That would be a nuisance, now to think what to do today. I must go out, as over the last few days I have been somewhat reclusive and not really ventured out unless you include the daily trips down to Sainsbury’s with Steve. We go there everyday and seem to suffer withdrawal symptoms if we miss a day. Sometimes we go down more than once a day, which some may say is a little sad. It is certainly expensive! When we buy our next house we must ensure that we are far away from the local supermarket. We go in for a couple of items and always come out with a trolley full of food that we do not need nor want really. I am not really sure when we became addicted to food shopping but never a day goes by without us making Mr Sainsbury just that little bit richer. I am sure we are their best customers.

Sammy has just been down and offered me a slice of birthday cake. I questioned why she had bought a birthday cake, “Because I like it” was the answer which I guess is a fair response. I declined on this occasion, though to be honest I was a little tempted. However, a slice of birthday cake will do nothing for my waistline or rather, nothing for that place where my waist used to be. I should go out for a really long walk with Syd, that may clear a few cobwebs. I could walk Syd and drop some papers off to the Accountants therefore achieving the completion of two tasks in one go. It might rain but if it does I shall get a bit wet, so what, a bit of rain never hurt anybody, well not unless you think about those people who get hurt in floods and things, then I guess you could get hurt but just now it is a little cloudy and a little windy, and does not look as though it will flood in the near vicinity. 

I wonder if all women nearing the menopause ponder on such trivia as I do on a daily basis. I wonder if all women sigh as much as I do, and wonder what to do with themselves when they are not cooking, cleaning, ironing, dog walking, washing up and looking after the children. Although the children in my house are all pretty much grown up or at least they are when it suits them, and they never do that much for me. It seems to be understood that it is my role or duty to do everything around the house to make everyone else comfortable and content but what about me, who will do that for me? I guess I shall have to do it for myself but it is hard to do things for myself. I have spent so many years looking after everyone else’s needs that I have forgotten how to look after my own. Today though, I shall endeavour to address this balance and put myself first. I shall aim to please myself, not for selfish reasons you understand but for my self preservation. The time has come for ME… ME… ME…

Let the day begin. 

© Liola Lee 2010

Today is the day…Truth and Integrity

Today is the day’ …was a collection of musings I wrote during the Peri menopause years. It’s spoken in the first person, and was based largely on my journal entries written around that time. Journalling is a wonderful way to express this, that and whatever else needs to be said whether aloud or silently…

Today is the day that I have decided to focus on truth and integrity. Perhaps it was not really my decision but it is what my Angel cards have said, and it seems to me to be pretty good advice. Also, it ties in with my daily secret teachings. I receive these every day. What are they you may wonder? Well, they are little messages sent to me by my request, which help me practice the Law of Attraction. This morning the message I received said I should follow my own heart, and live my own bliss and let other people follow theirs. It also said I should look for the good in everyone which I do try to do​ on most days but sometimes I have to be honest, and admit that I slip up on this one, on occasion, and then I remember that the Law of Attraction says that we attract back whatever we send out into the Universe, and as I believe in this law, I have to readjust my thinking at times, lots of times actually. I have put this law into practice, and it really works but just sometimes I falter, and then things go horribly wrong. I shall have to work harder on this I know but I am in essence a human being, and programmed to make errors. Getting back to truth and integrity, I shall today try to let go of anything that is not working for me and give it up to the Universe and say, “here you are…you have it because I sure as hell don’t want it”. I said that all wrong because the Universe apparently does not hear the ‘don’t’ and will hear the ‘want’ and all those things I do not want will boomerang right back to me. So I shall have to be more specific in my choice of words, as words have power as does the power of thought. I remember I am meant to say what I want not what I do not want. Apparently if I do this I shall make way for a miracle, and trust me miracles do happen.

© Liola Lee 2010

 

 

Home is where the heart is…

Concrete, granite, stoney grey,

outside the window, any day.

Terracotta, red-brick box,

blazing, brazoned bolts and locks.

Attached together, detached alone,

standing strong, stone to stone.

Hearths and hearts, cills and souls,

turning time takes its toll.

Home is where the heart is best,

where we lay our heads to rest

Home is where we feel at peace

home is where the hearts at ease.

Homes, housing, houses, homes,

to some castles, to others tombs:

Families living, families dead,

home is where the heart is led.

© Liola Lee 2007