Celebrating The Quiet Ones

Six years ago, practically to the day, I wrote about the shiny people that pass through your life.

You know the kind of people I mean.  The ones that shine so bright in your eyes that they seem to attract the sun itself.  They sparkle (in a non Twilight vampire kind of way). They are the ones who flit around, directly their "in favour spotlight" on person after person, who each falls in love with their shine, only to then be left in the cold.

You can spend years without realising with these people in your circles, having once or twice experienced that glow and (most of the time unconsciously) seeking it out again at all costs, like an addict craves heroine. 

They are the human equivalent of Fool's Gold.  They do not provide you with real love or friendship other than what they want to offer.

I have had two of those shiny kind of people in my life, one of whom broke my heart and inspired my original blog post.  Looking back in retrospect, I broke my own heart.  He was never mine and he never loved me.  He loved my love for him.  I wasted far too many years pining for something that didn't exist.

Today however, I want to talk about the quiet people in your life.  

You do not  have to have the loudest voice or the biggest personality to have a major impact on someone's life.  Sometimes it is the quiet, unassuming people that are a constant in your life that you will always carry in your heart.

Four years ago today, we lost my wonderful step dad.  He was more than I could ever have hoped for.

When I lost my own dad at eight, I knew that no one could ever replace him.  When my mum married a year later to this nice man with the kind eyes who seemed to adore my mum, I was still understandably wary.

Yet he never tried to be my dad.  He just immediately and forever treated me like his own daughter.  He was a quiet man with not too much to say.  He was laid back, so much so we used to joke he should have wheels on his head.

He would have done anything for me and I knew that I could always count on him.  I never called him dad.  He understood why.  But I loved him like he was.  He was my H and I knew he would have stepped in front of a truck for me. 

What I remind myself of constantly now is to remember the people that stay with you.  They quietly walk by your side and stand by you.  They are the most important people that will be in your life, when all the glitter and sparkle is put aside.

We must always remember not to take advantage of their good nature, and take the time to thank them.

Thank you H.  You meant the world to me.

My Rosie

I never thought in a million years that I would be writing this post today.

Seven months, practically to the day that we lost our beautiful Ellie, we found ourselves putting my wonderful gorgeous Rosie to sleep.

My Rose.  An amazing bundle of fluff who had so much love to give.  She loved nothing better than a cuddle and greeted me every day after work, patiently waiting for me at the patio doors and after spotting me entering the gate; running for her favourite toy Tiger or Frog to come and show me.

My Rosie.  I remember the day that I met you.  Found in an advert in the paper, advertised for sale as someone was leaving the country.  Back then, you were not Rosie. you were Lily.

Looking back, it is clear that they simply did not want you (how is that possible?).  Lying in your box, showing not much interest and very sleepy, I am convinced that they had given you something to make you docile.  No water dish out, no food to be seen.  You were immediately ours and became my Rosie Posey.

It was their loss.  It was my privilege to have you in my life.  

After Ellie died, the love that you gave us tripled.  You loved to sit on mummy's knee, particularly when I was trying to do the Asda order and you decided that stroking you was more important than the weekly shop.  It was.

Here you are, in the next photo.  Those big brown eyes, so full of love, saying stroke me mummy! I would sit cross legged on the settee, my phone in one hand trying to complete the shop and stroking you with the other.

When you became ill in July I was so worried and rushed you to the vets.  Finding out that you had a mass on your liver was heartbreaking, but with no cancer found in the blood tests, I prayed to whoever is out there that we could have at least another year with you.

I still cannot work it out in my head how you went from being your normal, wonderful self a week last Tuesday, to having to put you to sleep on Saturday.  I am shell shocked.  It still does not feel real.

You became ill again on the Thursday.  Given medication and injections just as before, I crossed everything that this would make you better.  The news we received on Friday after a full day at the vets that your kidneys were failing was such a shock, but we had hope that maybe a drip and some medication would give you a little more time.

We brought you home that night, but you were no longer the same dog.  Looking in your eyes, you were no longer there.  You were supposed to spend another day at the vets on a drip, but we knew in our hearts that the fight, so quickly started, was over.

We both loved you so much, which meant that we could not put you through any more.  I hope you understand that my angel.  

The house is so empty without you in it.  My teddy bear has gone and you have left such a massive hole.  A piece of my heart went with Ellie, and now another has been taken losing you.  I will always love you.  

This is my favourite photo of us.  Me watching the Grand Prix and you cuddled up with me.  You have such love in your eyes, as you always did.  You were so loved.  Go and play with Ellie now.  I will see you again.

Cake or Death

Day 10 - Your Most Embarrassing Moment

My most embarrassing moment. Hmmmmm. Well there is only one massively embarrassing moment that I can think of, but I don’t particularly want to go into full details.

Let’s just say it involved Amsterdam, my first try at a very “strong” cake, a very busy pedestrianized area and me, sat on the floor at the side of a street for an hour outside a cafe as my legs had apparently forgotten how to walk.

Not my proudest moment.

Do the other ladies have a more embarrassing moment?

Beth http://tinkerbellandthelostgirls.blogspot.co.uk/ 
Claire http://lifeonadifferentlevel.blogspot.co.uk/

Emma http://plussizemillard.blogspot.co.uk/ 

Felicity http://felicityhart.blogspot.co.uk/ 
Karen http://toodulltoblog.blogspot.co.uk/ 

Kaye http://www.polishedcurves.com 

Laura http://laurapantslifestyle.blogspot.co.uk/ 
Lisa http://lookingforlisa.blogspot.co.uk/ 

Mary http://channellingliz.wordpress.com/ 
Mhairi http://www.lilybobombslovelylumps.com/ 

Natalie http://awheelbarrowfullofstyle.blogspot.co.uk 
Nikki http://nattynikki.blogspot.com 

Steph http://seeingsp0ts.blogspot.co.uk/ 
Toni http://theonlywayistoni.blogspot.co.uk/ 

Verena http://APlusSizeFashionObsession.blogspot.co.uk 
Vicky http://TheCurvedOpinion.com

A Little Dignity

When it comes to Margaret Thatcher, people have very clear-cut views.  That much has always been evident.  People either like or loathe her, depending on what their outlook on her time as prime minister was.

I’m not writing this post to argue political issues and what she did or did not do.  I’m writing this post in relation to the frankly abhorrent comments and hateful things I have seen said over the past few days.

From people holding parties in the street, to others buying “Ding Dong the Witch is Dead” to such a degree that it is now in the top ten on the Itunes Charts, I’ve never seen anything like it before.  Twitter is full of people celebrating her death, suggesting parties when “the witch burns” and hoping that she is “being tortured in hell”.

She made her mistakes, you cannot deny that, but whatever else you say about Margaret Thatcher you can’t deny that she had courage of conviction.  She had her victories too.  She played a part in the end of the Cold War and brought us to victory in the Falklands. 

She survived an IRA bombing attack and was still at the Conservative Party Conference the next day at 9.00am.  Can you imagine any of our current MPs doing the same?  I wholly doubt it.  They would have been up and out of there quicker than you could say “How much can I claim in expenses for this?”.

This woman didn’t commit genocide.  She isn’t Adolf Hitler.  In the grand scale of things does she really deserve all of this hate nearly 25 years after she left Downing Street?  

Will the same things be said of Tony Blair for the war in Iraq or of David Cameron for the privatisation of the NHS and cuts of benefits?

In the end, she died a frail 87 year old woman, reading in her bed.  Whatever your views on Margaret Thatcher may be, can we not show a little restraint in how they are expressed? 

Think of her family, of her children, of the people who loved her.  Would you like to be grieving at the loss of your mother, whilst in the background you hear chimes of “Ding Dong the Witch is Dead”?  Let’s show a little dignity.

“Maturity is the ability to think, speak and act your feelings within the bounds of dignity.”  Samuel Ullman.

 



Horses are Not for Courses

Imagine you were invited to join a sport where:

• Someone whipped you in order to make you go faster/work harder/improve.
• It would be classed as nothing unusual for someone to die.
• Should you die/be badly injured, the event organisers, TV cameras and fans would think nothing of just merely covering up your body and carrying on the event around you.

Would you want to be part of that sport?  I certainly wouldn’t.  Even for the adrenalin junkies who might look at No2 and still think that it is a risk that they would choose to take, what about the other two points?  No, you wouldn’t choose a sport like that.

But yet, it is a sport.  A very popular one and all those things do happen.  Horse racing.

Animal Aid have been tracking the deaths of horses during racing since 2007 and incredibly, there have been 804 deaths since they started their record.  804.  That’s 3 a week.  That’s just in Britain alone.  With horse racing all over the world that figure is in fact much higher.    Update: since I wrote this post a year ago, the figure is now up to 944. 

 

Their findings are available for all to see, with the date, name of horse and the injury which caused them to be destroyed.  Here’s the link for you to see for yourself.

 

The jockey chooses to enter the sport.  He trains with the horse, rides with the horse, chooses to enter an event with the horse.  The horse?  Well he just likes to run.

 

The horse can’t be briefed for the race ahead.  He doesn’t know how many fences there are, how high they are, how many people and horses are going to be jostling around him for places.  He doesn’t know the fact that if he falls, he will more than likely be destroyed because he is then “useless”.

I was going to put a picture of here of horse racing and the falls.  But I can’t bring myself to.  If you are an animal lover they just make you sick to your stomach.

 

But this I will put on.  What the BBC called “an obstacle” in the Grand National last year.  I call it a travesty. 

 

"An Obstacle"

Horse racing is a business.  If people stop making the bets and boycott the events, a difference can be made.  It takes no effort on your part.  Just this year, don’t make your yearly Grand National bet.  If someone asks you to a race, say no.

 

When the public really get together and use their voice, their spending power and their opinion, it is amazing what can happen.  A horse may not be endangered, it may not be exotic like a lion or a tiger, but it certainly doesn’t deserve to be treated this way.

THINK

Bit of a change from my usual posts.

I love driving. It is one of my favourite things to do.  A clear motorway, in the fast lane, pedal to the metal, there is nothing like it.  But the thing I, and everyone should remember, is the road may be your friend, but other drivers aren’t.

Whether it is someone driving too fast in traffic, texting and driving at the same time or driving when tired, there are so many hazards and potentially fatal outcomes that you can’t predict, or sometimes prevent against.

In winter you have the additional problems of ice on the road, leading to terrible driving conditions, yet you still get some idiot on the road speeding through, endangering lives as they go.

My dad died when I was eight, killed by a speeding motorist, weaving through traffic with no consideration for others, and the consequences were fatal.  He left that accident with a broken arm, my dad never left.

There have been so many accidents on the motorways of late.  The accident on the M5 brought back so many memories.  I know how the people left behind felt.  I still remember being that little girl, asking why my daddy wasn’t coming home.

So next time you are wondering whether to have that last pint before you drive home, THINK.   Before you are tempted to take that call on the motorway without your handset, THINK.  Before you speedily weave through the traffic in an effort to catch the start of a programme, THINK.

Think because your actions don’t just affect you when you are driving.  They affect everyone driving around you, and their loved ones when things go wrong.

Christmas is a time for being with your loved ones.  It is a time when I think of my dad and wish that he were here now and that it why, every time I get in a car, and every time you get in a car, we must remember to THINK.