Miles of Smiles Part Three

Christmas & Beyond

I used to love Christmas, the music, tree and all its decorations, cooking for lots of people and presents and most importantly, the Christmas Service at our local Church. The second last time we attended the Service, I went dressed in my Father Christmas outfit and the looks I got from the little kids present (and some of the parents) were worth every bucket of sweat I shed in that hour.
Since the divorce, I haven't been back to a Christmas Service, perhaps next year I will pluck up the courage.

So we were ready, off to bed early, trifle made, meat ready to go into the oven, presents wrapped and Dad sleeping. The previous three year Brian,Dee and their family had opened their homes to us and we had embraced this as place of safety to survive the day, this year we wanted it to be different.
We awoke, showered, wished each other Merry Christmas and my Mom and I got my Dad out of his bed, onto the wheelchair and then into his lazyboy chair, Mom does 90% of it and I simply assist because I want to be there, its more important than life itself that I do something.
Presents on the coffee table, Simon the official distributor and me with my Canon shooting the whole event. 
Lunch was amazing, my Mom feeding my Dad and the girls and I unable to move as we felt so full we   were not able to lie on our bellies for fear that our heads would not reach the pillows.
It was our third Christmas together and finally the spirit was back again.

The next day was shell hunting, (a task so dangerous that I was forced to reveal my torso to ward off the predators), a swim in the sea and supper with Brad and Vicky. This trip had also allowed us to meet old friends, some for the first time. In an age of electronic friendships, international friendships are possible and on this trip I was determined to meet as many of my friends I had never seen face to face, Brad and Vicky are not one of those, they have a house that oozes love, food, fellowship and  amazing wine. It was a home to all who entered it and no-one left empty handed. 

In life there are moments where you can just feel blessed and cared for, this holiday was reaching a stage where old wounds that were sealed were being healed, it was a spiritual experience where all we encountered was love and beauty and I felt like breathing again.

December Beckons

I started writing this blog under a heading entitled "Lovers" and then I basically ran out of words of the positive nature.
Why?
Well I contemplated that as we approached Christmas, it was the time that more suicides are committed than any other time of the year, so I have decided to entitle it "Surviving Christmas".

My first 2 Christmas's after my divorce were absolute hell and I longed for the day to end and for folk to leave me alone, I could see through their smiles as their eyes told me that they felt sorry for me. It was a time where was it not for my beautiful Simon and Nicole, I would have fled and just kept running.
However, friends embraced us, they welcomed us into their homes and they acted normally and didnt make a fuss over us, they allowed us to hide, blend into the shadows and withdraw when it became too much.
My 3rd Christmas was much better and I was able to interact and my girls and I smiled and joined in, we had found our niche and our reduction from 4 to 3 was now stronger than ever, bless you Brian, Dee, Zane and Trav.

Financially the past three years have been all about survival and in most cases we were not even able to give gifts, this for me was a humbling experience as I battled to receive and not return the favour. On reflection it was a time where I truly learnt more in that period of my life about grace, love, compassion and God working through people as they blessed us with gifts, love and even food.Our first Christmas together was 2 weeks after the divorce and I was so broke that homeless folk slept better than I, I had no home a Fiat Uno with all my worldly possessions in it and we were housesitting a friend of a friends home. A friend took me off to Pick and Pay and bought us groceries for the holidays so that I wouldn't have to worry about feeding my girls. I will never forget that.

So this year, my wish for you and me is the same, find some friends, family or loved ones. If you have none of these then make an extra plate or two of food and drop them off with folk who would appreciate them, any old age home will have forgotten folk who will welcome sharing a cup of tea with you.

I plan to visit my folks, my Dad with advanced Parkinsons no longer remembers me and it pains me to see him in this state, but the memories are so alive and filled with love that it will be great to see him. My Mom is the rock that has and still does keep us as a family together and I have so much love and respect for her.

Dont leave it till the last minute, start your planning now and make it a Christmas to remember.


Nite All

Black and White

So it seems that dogs see life in black and white and I was thinking that this may indeed be a wonderful way to see life for a while, please don't assume that I am not a fan of the spectrum of colours that bless me when I  stub my toe or cut myself shaving, but I often do not appreciate them with a lego block wedged in my heel.

The absence of colour assists me to focus on the object at hand, it enhances the subject and fades the additional extras into a background haze that rests like an exhausted puppy. A beautiful portrait, a wedding or a funeral can be expressed in a manner that colour cannot match. (It has been brought to my attention that the only difference between a Brakpan wedding and a Brakpan funeral is one less drunk).

Would this work in all situations? No, nature, food and boy bands need to be encased in the full spectrum of colours.
Why boy bands?
Well to capture them in black and white would somehow somehow elevate them above the dressed, patted and painted synchronised musical monkeys they deserve, colour shows them as they truly are and entitles them their lollipop candyfloss moment of recognition.


When I am in the process of photoshopping the colour out of a picture or bleaching it, I am always amazed at the transformation and personality that the photo takes on, it transcends itself from a mere collection of millions of coloured pixels to a story begging to be shared.

Colour somehow envokes the feeling of motion and movement whereas black and white seems to stop and capture that precise moment and freeze it forever sealing it in a timeless capsule. Thats what does it for me, I have that moment forever locked in a frame and encased in glass.

Click click

Nite All

So You Had a Crap Day . .

So you had a crap day.

Its ok, no seriously it means you are normal and this is all part of the wonder experience we like to refer to as "life".
I am a two cuppachino before 09h00 in the morning person, if my schedule is somehow broken I have the potential to be as friendly as an ex-wife who cant track her maintenance payments. We all have little rituals that form part of our sanity tour and this often determines if we whistle as we work like one of those super happy little smiling dwarves or turn into the haemoroid man who has to cycle to work and is too scared to use the loo because of the pain.

When I reflect on the past week, month and year, I analyse the goof, the bad and the ugly. I then try and understand what made me able to stabilise the bad and the ugly and what pushed me over the edge. Sometimes as I plummet into a pit of misery and depressing self pity, I am able to stop myself and recover, other times I have to swallow my pride and reach out to a friend. This reaching out is not always easy as questions will be raised that need to be answered, I don't like that because it somehow indicates that I not a superhero, merely a human.

If I now glance back over the past 3 years, I have notice that I have gone from having 1 good day a fortnight to 12. I am no longer triggered by comments and remarks from my ex and my fuse is now considerably longer. I don't question why, what and if only any more, I have accepted what has happened and am embracing my new role as a single dad. I have also realised that being single is fine and that my job and my girls need me to be this way for a while. It will need someone who understands me and is patient to allow me to enter their lives, perhaps that person is still out there and if she isn't then thats cool as well.

As for those off days, well its all about how we deal with them that matters. To smile and keep it all together when your steak is overcook or how you deal with a limp asparagus if you're a vegetarian tells alot about your character.

So you had a crap day?


Nite All

Vegans Loss

Think of your favourite piece of steak, taken from the wrapping and placed on a preparation board. Gently coat with extra virgin olive oil,  ground black pepper and course salt. Rub in some freshly crushed garlic and then place overnight in the fridge.

Remove from the fridge in the morning and at lunchtime heat up the cast iron griddle.
Once it is searing place your steak on it and as it hisses and sneers at you know that your journey into gastronomical heaven has commenced. After 3 minutes turn and the serve the boiled baby potatoes smothered in butter and salt along with the steamed green beans onto a plate. Remove your chunk of seared meat, place it on the plate, grab a bottle of red wine, a glass and head for the dining room table.

As you cut a piece and place it in your mouth, you will know what it means to be satisfied, in love and almost touching heaven.

Nite All

Shopping on a Prayer

I have to state that this eating 3 times a day 7 days a week does not agree with my budget in the slightest.

Milk is cow juice and cows eat grass that grows everywhere for free!
Why the heck does it cost so much and all its by products like butter, cheese and cream are not aluminium plated or wrapped in newspaper.

Have you had slight tremors and held your breathe as the teller rings them up with the passion of a serial terrorist bomber heading off to lala land.
Then the shock!
You fight back the tears and hand over your little plastic card and religiously chant as you wait for the machine to dial your bank. Please go through please go through.

I have a theory that more prayers are said at check out counters than any churches or religious centres. What does God do when He gets this flood of prayers and checks his Godberry to confirm that it is not in fact Sunday 09h30 but a weekday at 17h30?

I can only afford to have supper on Mondays, Wednesdays, Fridays and every alternate Sunday. Judging by my above average waist, minute compared to Sumo wrestlers, it may be assumed I steal from orphanages on the other days.

A friend told me to floss carefully and then hang the dental floss out to dry. The little string of flossbits apparently provide substantial protein for that last week before payday.
I do believe I have just lost my appetite.

Nite all.

Rude Food

"What happened? One minute I was in cruise mode and the next my world was spinning out of control and someone had removed my mood food and replaced it all with rude food."

That was from over a month ago and since I can honestly say that as much as I do miss it, I am coping. The flu, headaches, stomach ailments and fact that sick leave does not feature in a contractors vocabulary didn't encourage the situation.

What has brought a proverbial 'smile to the dial' is that I am starting to feel much better, my memory is better than it has been before and I don't mind the scary bastard in the mirror.

I real food labels and roll my eyes in mock disgust as I endeavour to understand the necessity for acids and colourings and chemical additives. Am I in fact a hi-tech state of the art machine who requires these additional extras to function beyond my peak capabilities? Truth is some days this machine of magnificence battles to raise its bottom out of bed.

Do I miss my rude food, oh yes, can I live without it, definitely.

It is but another step forward in a journey of life as I seek more not the sake of greed, but instead to enjoy and savour and ultimately share with others.

Nite all.

Dr Ted vs Dr Phil

Who the heck is Dr Phil and why is he so popular? I can do that stuff all I need are the following;
A belly - got it
Receding hairline - almost
Suit - have one and it fits
Not an Oprah fan - haha oh yes
Stupid People - see lots daily

So here we go, Dr Ted and his version of how to get over your failed diet.
Mary-Lou, I know you're disappointed and hate yourself for eating those 3 burgers with extra fries, 2 large sodas, wedge of chocolate cake and icecream and 2 cups of coffee before breakfast, but honey its perfectly normal. He had no right for cussing you for eating 2 packets of Oreo's and drinking the good milk in bed, it aint your fault you fell asleep on the half eaten bowl of mac and cheese and the ants came a visiting in the night. He's a sad, inconsiderate son of a gun and only good for Jerry Springer reruns. He doesn't appreciate the true you and that skinny girl inside that's crying to get out, but keeps getting attacked by hotdogs. I feel your pain and if you get off my chest I am pretty sure you will realise that.

Make any sense? Didn't think so, but it does remind me that we live in a society that blames everyone else when we possibly need to look at ourselves a little closer. Don't wait for next week, your partner, Mom or Dad or even God to take that step for you. I did and all it taught me is that I wasted some prime time waiting instead of living.
We have to take that step in faith and risk failure but also experience life to its fullest.

I am trying to move ahead, would you like to join me?

Good Night All

Happy Birthday Kim

The Whole Food

I have heard a lot of talk about whole food and as an avid eater, cook anti-dieter, I feel it is my responsibility to clear up certain misconceptions in this matter.

If I may be so bold as to quote from my never to published potential bestseller “Naked Eating and other Habits”, ‘You are not what you eat, you are in fact a walking talking food processor. You eat it, process it and churn it out. Done’

My profession interpretation of whole food is as it implies, whole. A whole chicken, whole apple or apple pie, whole leg of lamb. Despite my passionate approach to eating and the art of forking objects on my dinner plate, the assumption to eat till full, rest and enter phase two will not lead to untold joy unless you accept who you are and are comfortable with it.

It is not the volume of food that we consume, but in fact the time frame, circumstances and social surroundings that impact on our blood pressure and bloated midriffs. If we accept a meal as a social event as such laugh, chat and embrace it instead of our Western culture of attacking it in silence or in from of an electronic device and shovelling down opious amounts of processed fried fats, we might see that there is a world outside our curtains.

This morning I had fresh avocado on wholewheat toast with butter, ground black pepper and salt and ate it on the patio overlooking the trees, gardens and children waiting for their school bus to arrive. It was a refreshing meal in more ways than one.

Rob, you have inspired me by raising my interest and passion for food again, thank you Sir. Karen your peasant remedies research will be incorporated and is much appreciated. Candy for wanting to strangle me, refraining and endless support Tracey for the lectures on the importance of lunch, Merci

My mission and vision is simple. I will eat my way to health and in the process enlighten and encourage my daughters to embrace food passionately and not settle for the crap we grab on the run as we sprint through life. Time to slow down and smell the aroma.

Good Nite All

Gastronomical Gloom

Good grief it was hot today, I had a green apple at 10h00 and found it very unappetising without cinnamon, lovely baked crust and cream. Apparently this raw fruit thing is quite popular, tastes unbaked and in desperate need of sugar to me.

Then the temperature hit 32'c and despite the aircon, melting was prone to set in. I had bottled bubbly water, Coke Light, coffee and none quenched my thirst for lunch. I had awoken this morning and made myself a salad, yup my gastronomic life was heading for social suicide.

I have made a decision after a run in with a large rude mirror that I needed to shed the equivalent of a small child in body mass. Removed from my life was my passionate attraction to pizza, cheeseburgers, crumbed pork chops, beer, oh sweet juice of the gods and nectar of mother nature. I was going through my second divorce, one that I had to instigate, follow through on and where I was the guilt party. It was a burden that would weigh me down before I could lose this load.

It was a desert of salad, steamed vegetables and tuna. And this compulsion people have with water, when I last looked this what we put into cars radiators and toilets! No wonder you lose weight when you drink it.

Dieting is like kissing a mannequin I would presume, devoid of passion, life and pleasure. It would be so much easier with hot baked bread smothered in melting butter and a tick slice of strong mature cheese on it. But alas I must depart for my tomatoes and cucumber and oh so crispy lettuce beckons.

Farewell Friends

Scenes from a Sunday Sidewalk

A cuppachino at the sidewalk cafe was my solution to having run out of coffee at home. So much happening in the little pockets of tables around me, it is like a mini soap opera unfolding, hold my hand and journey with me.

A family of 4 with a 3 year old daughter with tiara who is so in love with her Dad. She is chatting and giggling and when she sits on the chair her chin is level with the table. The mom is a beautiful blond with long flowing hair and oversized sunglasses, her baby son is getting fed the froth from her cuppachino and loving it. Dad is explaining with the aid of his fingers that he will be 32 in 2 days time and she repeats "thirty two?" as if he may as well be 100.

At the table next to them is a young lad not much older than 8 with very short hair, chubby red cheeks and huge eyes. He is wearing a blue soccer top and sharing his table with his grandparents and one of their friends. The old folks are muttering about the motorcyclists and how some areas are going to hell because no-one cares anymore. The lads eyes opened so wide that I feared they might pop out of his head when he saw the size of his milkshake and he could hardly sit still when his breakfast arrived.. His Grandad is furiously cleaning the screen of his cellphone the same way a mother attacks her children's faces on a Sunday morning before church.

Table three has 3 male friends in their sixties all very specific about their Earl Grey tea and unbuttered toast and tomato (not cooked please). At their table is a lady in her early forties with long dark hair, lovely figure and smoking a cigarette. She seems unattached and you seem to wonder if she is a daughter or a lover, most intriguing. The gentleman next to her stood up and starting packing his pipe with tobacco as if he were about to tell a tale of the high seas to all. His food arrived and he collapsed deflated as if his moment of greatness had been stolen from him. The dark lady without so much as glancing at him put her had on his arm and he seemed to pull himself together again.

Each table touched me in a different manner and it was good to be out in the sun and share breakfast with complete strangers. Open your eyes and look around you and see what is happening, there might be a whole new world waiting to let you in.

Nite all

Flattened

It has not been one of my better weekends. I felt it coming and did what most stubborn men would do, I powered on through thinking that this would be the end of it. It appears I was mistaken.

Friday arrived with my girls and I chilling and watching a couple of episodes of "The Mentalist" and having a slap together supper of leftovers and fresh rolls. So far so good.

What I had failed to mention was that i had been feeling a little tender earlier in the evening and should have sufficed with some toast or a bland supper instead of the butter roasted chicken with cheese, mayonnaise and lettuce. Common sense would have agreed with you.

All was well till about 23H00 that evening when I heard rumblings of thunder and got up to check that the bedroom window was closed only to discover that the evening sky was clear. It was a storm brewing in my belly! I scrambled for the bathroom and made it in time, only just.

This continued for 24 hours and eventually my bottom would begin sobbing at the mere sight of a piece of toilet paper approaching it.

Cramps, explosions, sweat and Oros and pills passed through a haze of sleep, sprints and sighs of relief. My girls were wonderful and helped wherever they could and I emerged Sunday morning weak and professing to respect my body, my belly and avoid highly spiced food unless the challenge involved a fair maiden, a sports team or beer. That seems fair.

It was a reminder to me that we are not super-humans and we cannot keep burning the candle at both ends, something has to give. I need a hobby, something out of the flat, something to distract me and focus some me-time on. Any ideas?

I am almost recovered and like a well tuned machine running on 3 cylinders I splutter forth and anxiously await breakfast.

Good Nite All

The Perfect Gentleman

There comes a time in all our lives where we must either acknowledge what we know is true and correct or we can ignore it and pretend we don't know any better.

I believe that an apology is in order so here we go.

My unknown gastronomical rendezvous with a crunchy foul tasting bug like alien has left me a little red faced. It seems my "bug" was no more than a very strong herb like pod used in the preparation of Indian dishes. The restuaranteer at the Indian restaurant was amused yet dignified in his explanation of the herb and we parted on good terms.

He could have laughed and been arrogant in his explanation, instead he was "the Perfect Gentleman".

I wonder how we would have reacted if the roles had been reversed, how often do we do the honourable thing and admit when we are wrong?

The two hardest words to say are "I'm sorry"

By saying it you are opening yourself to rebuke, abuse, possible scorn and rebuttal, but just maybe you might find someone whose humility will shine through.

Good Nite all

The Curry Bites Back

I stopped en route home at a curry place at Edenglen near Woolworths and bought a vegetarian bean and potato curry, because I wasn't going to cook and hadn't eaten today besides my cereal. I decided to take my meds and vitamin B and have the curry. The first 4 mouthfulls were stunning but the 5th tasted funny and too herby for me so I took it out of my mouth and it was a dead bug twice the size of an adults thumb nail.

It was obviously no longer a vegetarian meal and the additional protein with legs or tentacles left a somewhat bitter, acidy taste in my mouth. Had I perhaps consumed one of the owners pets or were they a delicacy flown in from a broom cupboard and casually ignored as they fell asleep in my curry.

I am saddened my meal had transformed itself to a National Geographic Special without my written consent and as such I am forced to pay them a visit tomorrow to discuss this menial legality.

Good Nite Friends

A Year without Beer?

Since we last crossed paths, it seems as if a lifetime has passed and I suppose it has been a mixture of mother-in-law and ex-partner or to put it into simpler terms sweet and bitter, you may decide which is which.

Christmas eve was delightful as Simon and I spent time with Stephen and Marilyn (brother-in-law and very pregnant sister) and it was a case of too much food, a little too much chocolate caramel cake and a drive back home which took about 40 minutes. Then Simon and I had to find a store open at 19H00 on Christmas Eve to buy five different packets of jelly for her to make the chocolate trifle. We ended up in a store on the wrong side of the good and spent time counting the number of people who actually had shoes on.

We went home and before we made the jelly, Simon opened her presents and she jumped, bounced, clapped her hands and squealed.
Christmas Day and we decided to go to our old church, I was greeted by one of the Pastors at the door with a smile and "Oh Christmas and Easter!" Needless to say I suddenly remembered why we weren't going there anymore.

Making a trifle for 25 was fun and I mean messy all hands in and laughing and cream on the face fun. It was huge and heavy and a work of art, doves wept and angels mouths watered.
Add a frantic call to Candy about the recipe for the biscuit base and we were on the way to a peppermint crisp tart, then off we went and lunch awaited us. King prawns marinaded overnight and fried in garlic butter, WOW!
The four 4 boys made a sizable dent in the trifle and by 5 it was time to return Simon to her Mom. Heather and Nicole greeted me at the gate and I got my Christmas hug from Nicole.

The next few days were a blur of meals with friends and swimming and getting burnt and trying to put in the back of my mind that my girls were away for 2 weeks. The Lips, Wrights and McNamara's, Leff's and Eric and Debs, you guys made this one so much easier to deal with than last year. Simon and I agreed that CandyOnline was such an intricate part of my support and recovery program that statues needed to be erected.

And as for 2011, well reduced beer intake has been suggested and the withdrawals have been alarming and images of bunnies and halflings and singing beer bottles followed by a chorus of spicy chicken wings and pork chops have made me rethink this disturbing request.

I hope for more talks with my girls, more hugs and deeper respect of each others opinions. I hope for female friendship and if at all possible a kiss, a simple request perhaps, but something I need to reaffirm that somehow I am still "marketable". Time will tell I suppose.

For now my wish for you is that you may find joy where you least expect it, love that brings you laughter and memories, health to awake each morning and walk and smell the worlds scents and finally that dreams will not be forgotten or cast aside.

Nite all.

Life and Memories

What would you do if I sang out of tune

Would you get up and walk out on me?

I have quoted this on so many occasions that it seems to have become a part of my life, I do sing out of tune and man can I sing out of tune well. I have sung in a shower and almost drowned myself, I have gargled with Jack Daniels and lost and have sipped champagne from the lips of a beautiful woman.

Whenever I have found myself in times of trouble, mother Mary comes to me and when I am running on empty, I have wept blood and sweated all along the Watchtower.

At this stage you must be asking what the hell is he trying to say, so let me begin by saying the following, I am not proud of some of the choices I have made and I must answer for them, I have loved and been loved, I have stared into the face of an angel and seen her tears as her guitar gently weeps. I have considered the words of poets when they said, 'If you can't be with the one you love, love the one you're with' and turned and walked away.

I have crashed vehicles in the town where the streets have no names and have waited for the sunrise with tequila as my only companion, felt my heart stop beating as I held my daughters when they were born and cried as I realised they were really mine and alive. I have held my daughter on two occasions and accepted that it might be last time I would see her alive as she struggled to breathe and was as pale as the desert moon on a winters night.

I have hummed in a cat-scan machine with my eyes closed so I would not panic from claustrophobia and been chased by a tractor while completely sober.

I have told ghost stories around camp fires, cycled on dirt roads so bumpy I could not sit or walk normally for a couple of days.

But all of this I would trade to be with my girls right now, memories are nothing without someone to share it with, one day it shall be different but for now I live for the other week.

Good Night

Driving with Chopsticks

Yes it is exactly what you think it is.
By my definition of the law, talking on a cellphone whilst driving is not permitted, however it says nothing about eating Chinese with chopsticks whist driving.

It was interesting and yes I was hungry and wanted to get to my destination so stopping was not an option. It does make turning sharply a little more difficult, but it can now be ticked off my list of things I never thought I had to do yet did.

I do realise that I am no movie star or famous model, perhaps mirrors do not weep when I step away or sob uncontrollably for me to return, but I am beginning to like who I am.
I am foremost a father, a man who takes parenting seriously and wants it to work. I mess up, I get angry, annoyed, impatient and do not feel very pleased with myself when I do.
I want to give my girls everything and with Christmas looming as close as a Tom Cruise to Katie Holmes, it is very hard for me to look at my potential budget vs potential gift list.

I want to spoil them and see their smiles when they open their gifts and somehow hope they won't be disappointed.

So what is a Dad to do, well like most folk, we do what we can, give what we can and love them and cherish them while we can. I have to lower my expectations and be more realistic when the entire worlds marketing campaign tells me to give more, do more and be more.

At least I drove with chopsticks today and suprised my girls by coming home a little earlier.

Good nite all

Is Life Affordable

Living! Damn its expensive and yes I know it beats the alternative, but good grief I can't be the only one battling.

Milk, cereal, beer, chocolate and other essential items have skyrocketed and cash is dwindling and disappearing faster than Toyota's reliability reputation.

I hate that I have to 'survive' for one or two weeks a month and somehow make a plan to get through. Its frustrating that I cannot seem to put any savings together, have no insurance and am basically surviving from month to month. It can be soul destroying at times, please don't get me wrong, I have food in the house and my girls are fine, but I would love to have medical cover in place for them and ultimately me.

If you had a choice between soap or shampoo, what would you choose? Soap provides unlimited entertainment if dropped in the bath and you try to find it. It does however on the negative side burn the eyes more than shampoo. Shampoo comes in a container and floats in the bath making it profoundly easier to find. Decisions decisions!

I have one daughter giggling and the other sulking at the moment, ladies will be ladies and emotions run rife and stable is not a word to be used to describe them. Teenagers have to have boundries and yet wish to feel as if they are independant and not controlled or caged in. To find a balance can be easy or harder than keeping carrot juice down.

My ramblings tonight must end.
My cash flow is non existant and the piggy banks have been raided and pillaged more times than France.

Good nite

The Christmas Looms

There are Christmas decorations and chocolate Lindt Father Christmas men lined up like toy soldiers. I love Christmas, well I used to before the divorce. The music, the family time, the excitement, the greeting of friends, Christmas cards and whipping out the decorations and watching the girls setting up the tree with millions of lights and tinsel and little creatures.

The morning Christmas service, hugs and smiles from strangers and the prospect of too much awesome food followed by pudding that would kill the healthiest elf alive.

Everyone seems happier, people are more chatty. But that was before divorce.

Now there are books and courses that give us coping tools to survive Christmas. I didn't understand this, yet even last year when I had my girls with me it was different. Now there were 3, something was missing and it seemed that it had taken a huge part of the joy with me.

Friends rallied round us and we joined in the festivities, yet my girls and I found ourselves lying in a spare room after lunch. It was all too much. Nothing was said and yet we were all thinking exactly the same thing, what had happened.

Life has a way of dealing us a deck of cards, it would be easy to blame the dealer and somehow pass the proverbial buck. It would be easy to blame the other party and simply give in to all the pain and surrender life and simply give up.

Please do not misunderstand me, I am crying as i write this because the pain and the memories are still so real and the wounds so raw, but I held the cards and I played the game. There are consequences for our actions, but there is also second chances. Rebuilding and preparations are slowly being put into place, I say slowly because I have tried everything to speed it up to no avail. God works in His own time and we cannot dictate, rush, bribe or use any emotional persuasion to somehow influence His decision if we truly want peace, real peace. I don't have that yet.

This Christmas i will see my girls briefly, it will be difficult and I am not sure what coping mechanisms will be required to carry me through it. I have amazing friends that will rally round, but I still have to face the changes, the new rules, the absences and pain on my own.

If I remember correctly, the last Christmas Service we attended as a whole family was the one I wore a Father Christmas Suit to church, it caused many smiles and much interest from the smaller members of the congregation.

This year will be different, my tears are bringing the necessary healing and my heart is heavy. I am also tired and emotionally drained.

Life has a way of continuing whether we are on the ride or not, I am hanging on and when I feel I am slipping, invisible hands carry me.

I hope you will have someone to love, hold, spoil and care for you on this special day. If not, please mail me and I will respond to you on Christmas Day.

Good Night

Supper for 8

And so it came to be that supper was planned, invitations sent out and the prospect of food with unfamiliar faces was looming.

I used my usual deep spiritual inner soothing Eastern calming techniques to reach a state of awareness that allowed control. I practiced old and trusted breathing techniques, chanted both loudly and softly. I bathed and cleansed my innermost being with water of joy and friendship and repeated the process 3 times.

In laymans terms, I watched a rugby match with a friend, shouting at the tv and drinking beer! And it was good.

As a Dr, I recommend this therapy for leisurely emotional expression. A cold beverage of the alcoholic variety is highly satisfying.

Then off to dinner and I was the first to arrive, and soon we had the makings of dinner for 8 (and 2 halflings), drinks, starters, main course and dessert followed by coffee for 3 and home.

Topics of discussion included botox, the benefits and costing annually, I was unaware that it was so popular and in particular amongst young men, possibly more so the young medical professionals. The drug usage also seems to be a serious problem. I suppose young, qualified, hard working and easier access to medicinal happy drugs could all lead to an explosive situation.

Teachers and teaching, jogging, well let's say that the food was very good, the company diverse, friendly and easy to chat to and it all ended well.

Jo, you missed a good evening dude! Better not chicken out next time or far harsher means will be sought and applied, remember midgets usually work in pairs haha.

Hi-light of the evening, difficult but possibly coffee for 3 and a discussion about organised Christianty.

Thank you A, was a blast

Good night