returnee…

Dear friends 

I’ve returned to my blog – it’s been a while, I know.  After the surgery I was signed off work until Christmas Eve and then I already had annual leave booked for the last week in 2016.  Then a wait for the biopsy results – all OK for which I am grateful to Father 🙂  So, unexpectedly, I was not at work for the whole of December 2016.

I returned to work on 3 January 2017, as many people.  And due to the transfer of the property business, I returned to my former and first ever employer, the city council.

I returned to my desk, with various trade literature and unopened post – after two days it’s still in my in box, unopened.

I returned to my projects – a little model completed for the feasibility study and several outstanding technical queries on the construction project (with a contractor stating the delay is due to ‘us’).

I returned to discover that such was the concern for me that they had approached a local company for costs to deliver the feasibility study!  I’ve had several colleagues welcome me back.  Since they are all predominantly male colleagues my stock answer is I’m fine – no point getting into a conversation about recovery after laparascopic surgery of a gynaecological nature! – and I swiftly move the conversation on to QS resources, retaining walls or the return to local government.

Back in the home, we’ve also been looking into returnees to Africa.  There’s lots on YouTube.  As the house in Africa is becomes bigger and our mortgage here becomes smaller (can something grow smaller?…) the prospect of going to Africa long term becomes more real.  It will be an adventure for me; it will be returning home for my dear husband. Some would say for me too, clearly, as my ancestry will include slaves taken from Africa to the plantations of the Caribbean islands.  I have many deeper thoughts on this.  I am grateful to Father to know that somewhere in my family, ancestors survived the ridiculous barbaric cruelty of slavery to have offspring and become free.  Free to grow and return. 

outnumbered: days 6 to 7

Dear friends

Day 6 – Much to say about everything today. A refreshing start with a solo run – our eldest daughter has caught a cold from her sister who caught it from their dear father who began suffering days before travelling. Solo was fine – it was a beautiful, sunny morning – a time for thought and prayer.

Back home, after my shower, the children began to wake. Our eldest son has maths revision class in school today, leaving our eldest daughter to baby sit.  I could foresee the day – much Dragons (Cressida Cowell), DC comics films, some homework and cheesy tuna pasta for lunch.  But the younger two will be happy!!  I came back yesterday to find our youngest daughter with partially straightened hair – our eldest daughter having used my old tongs we found in the garage – and a burnt ear! That’s when they stopped 😉

A completely hectic day at work… 2 meetings plus site visit which came to 4 hours on site; engineers not attending when they’re meant to; explaining why lime (not cement) render was specified; an architect off sick with feasibility study due; work placement student in on Monday (fortunately I don’t have to look after them this time); and no proper lunch = I grabbed a cookie and a cereal bar – no bread to pack a sandwich = expecting to buy something more substantial but no time for that.

Fortunately, there was enough chicken sauce from last night for a second dinner of chicken and rice. I should have added vegetables to the rice as a variation!!  I must ensure we don’t appear malnourished when my dear husband arrives back home!

Day 7 – Dedicated but slack mum continues!  Brunch (cereal & toast), milkshakes while out, pizza and ice cream back home, hot chocolate and cheese on toast…; no need for me to wonder why there’s never any bread!  A few years back and I used to make our bread, rolls by hand, loaves in the breadmaker. But gradually I got out of the habit, the breadmaker broke, the children got older, we earned a little more so could afford to buy sliced bread. But I bought bread flour today so I might do some this weekend – it always tastes so good and we never ate so much – it must be healthier.

I dropped round some photocopying at my Dad’s this evening – he is well enough and appreciated me attending the funeral of our cousin last week. He had dropped by in the middle of the week when I was at work with some paperwork to copy and met the children home, alone, in the garden trampolining and inside (our eldest son is 16 so there’s no babysitting issue). Dad then asked me, with a pitying look, this evening,  how I was coping.  With what,  I thought, so I said, what do you mean?  “How do you cope with the children, I mean, the little ones don’t speak.”  I laughed, Oh, they do, just a bit shy around some people.  I know they shouldn’t be around family but they are and you can’t force anyone,  they’ve got to choose.  I didn’t say that last sentence but as I left, I thought on how ‘coping’ sounds like I’m dealing with something final or long lasting, not temporary.  I know our children and they know me and their father; we love and understand each other and that intimacy in our family is something that only we understand.  I think that’s the same in most families.  I’ve never lived with my father,  I grew up with my mother; nothing is going to change that now and however much I love and care for my father,  I feel we will never have that closeness that I enjoy with my mother, and in some way, which I never intended, that has affected the grandfather/ grandchild relationship.

We watched Epic this evening:

many leaves, one tree

I like that phrase.  Some of us are simply far apart on those branches but we’re still there for each other 🙂

reflections

Dear friends
It has been a busy few days getting ready for school starting – exams and tests this term.  I’ve spent time with our children – cutting hair, laughing, exercising and shopping. The following has been on my mind.

When I look in the mirror, I see my four children in front of me 🙂 Does that make sense?

When I was much younger, I saw a girl with desires and dreams – do I look like one of my grandmothers, I often wondered?  I remember this one time seeing much more, I was about 11 years old; I saw that what was me, was more than the body reflected in the mirror, there was something deeper inside, behind my eyes.  I admit this freaked me out somewhat and I started crying, not quite understanding what I was feeling; I was almost inconsolable as I cried I don’t want to die! !   Somehow, my dear mother calmed me and I went to school late that day.

As I’ve grown, I’ve come to learn and understand that we do have our own spirit and body – me, I’ve always been me, regardless of my physical body, it’s age or condition.  I suppose that’s why we feel younger (or older) than our physical age! 

But now when I look in the mirror, I see our eldest son, his pioneering spirit; our eldest daughter, her wit; our youngest daughter, her creativity; our youngest son, his passion 🙂 Plus all the physical similarities though everyone sees the children’s resemblance to their father. 

This fills me with peace and joy, knowing that we are a part of each other.  As we’re all part of our loved ones.

What do you see when you look in the mirror?

writing it down

Dear friends, many years ago, before marriage and children, I decided I wanted to write a book.  I mentioned this to someone who stated, with a hint of cynicism, “everyone has a book inside them.”  I was a little put off by this but I had a title The Quiet Ones and a topic, my life 🙂 which I felt was pretty special.  
My dear husband has always encouraged me to pursue this desire but there’s always been other priorities that demanded my time and attention.

So writing my blog is a small way of sharing the topic of my life, which I still feel is special. In fact, I feel everyone’s life is special and to be shared with all those in their sphere of influence. (Which reminds me – did you know that a rolling sphere theory is used to work out requirements for lightning protection on buildings? I digress but I’ll come back to spheres one day!)

So, writing it down means that sphere has a chance to roll through time, as well as space!! From a Garrison Keillor book “you can’t pick up a telephone to reach the past. You’ve got to pick up a piece of paper” (or similar phrase), I think it’s from We Are Still Married. I’ve always remembered that idea.
On the radio this week was the story of how a building was being refurbished and a child’s note to an older brother was discovered fallen behind a radiator 70 years ago and he was traced.
There is a whole load of quotes from LDS leaders as to the importance of journal keeping. I’m only going to quote one, Spencer W Kimball, Ensign, December 1980.

Each of us is important to those who are near and dear to us – and as our posterity read of our life’s experiences, they, too, will come to know and love us. And in that glorious day when our families are together in the eternities, we will already be acquainted.”

So, writing it down, my unique life, your unique life, our unique lives, is of great importance to you and yours. It doesn’t matter how long or short we live – each life matters. There are many that can write far more eloquently than me on matters of writing. For me, it gives me the chance to reflect; for you, well, I hope you can find inspiration and a knowledge that you are never alone.