When my husband goes out to shoot gigs in the evening I take the opportunity to watch a particularly girlie movie that he doesn’t enjoy as much. It was on one of these nights that I watched “The Vow” in which a young wife looses all memory of the last few years of her life, including any memory of her husband, who then tries to make his wife fall in love with him again.
It got me thinking what it would be like if that happened to me. What if I woke up with the last 10 years wiped clean from my memory? What would the me of 10 years ago think of my life now? Would I be disappointed in how things turned out?
At 20 I had certain things I was expecting to happen in my life and certain ideas of what I thought was important.
It is no secret that I like to be in control, I believe that is one of the reasons I hate roller-coasters - the complete lack of control I experience; that and my unbelievable fear of heights. I have even tried to be in control of my husband’s career. If you are thinking that that sounds a little too controlling you would be absolutely correct, I was too controlling. In my finite wisdom, I thought that my plan for my husband’s career and for our future was perfect. Yet every suggestion I made and everything I attempted would fall short, hit a brick wall and come to nothing. One day I decided to make a deal with God, (I’m not sure if making deals with God is advised but I do believe He will meet us where we are and help when we go to Him with an honest and open heart). I told God that for a short while I was going to stop trying to control things and stop doing things my way.
It was really difficult for me to do but I submitted everything everyday to God. What I came to realize was that I didn’t actually trust God. I didn’t trust that He actually does want what’s best for us; I didn’t trust His plan was better than mine. Within a week of me giving up my “control” I began to see God’s hand in my husband’s career. He had already opened up opportunities that I never could have orchestrated.
If I woke up with no recollection of the last 10 years and looked at my life now, I’m not sure if I would be delighted or disappointed. I do know that each hardship I have endured has made me the person I am and each decision made has led me to this point. I also know that there is amazing freedom in losing my control over everything and submitting it to God and trusting that His ways are higher than ours and He ultimately knows best.
Sunday, 22 April 2012
Saturday, 18 February 2012
Fleeting Obsession
Every now and then there is a song that comes along that you love the instant you hear it; you immediately want to share it with all you know. It stirs and inspires you and makes you wish it was longer than its 4:03 minutes.
When I hear a song or watch a show that I love I literally become obsessed until the song/movie has died a slow horrible death and I can never listen or watch it again. It probably isn’t the greatest approach but I can’t help myself. I recently discovered New Girl, a TV series starring Zooey Deschanel and have watched back to back episodes for most of my Saturday. I’ll probably rush my way through the whole series and then moan that I have to wait for the nest season to start instead of pacing myself and making the show last a little longer than one day. I have also listened to the song, Somebody That You Used to Know by Gotye continuously for the last 3 days and will probably not want to hear it ever again in a couple of days. I become hugely obsessive and then very bored very quickly with everything from food to ideas and hobbies. My husband says he is just waiting for me to announce that I have grown bored of him, but I think he is the one thing I will never get bored of.
Thought I’d share my favourite song (for now) with you. It’s a great cover by Walk off the Earth. Enjoy!!
When I hear a song or watch a show that I love I literally become obsessed until the song/movie has died a slow horrible death and I can never listen or watch it again. It probably isn’t the greatest approach but I can’t help myself. I recently discovered New Girl, a TV series starring Zooey Deschanel and have watched back to back episodes for most of my Saturday. I’ll probably rush my way through the whole series and then moan that I have to wait for the nest season to start instead of pacing myself and making the show last a little longer than one day. I have also listened to the song, Somebody That You Used to Know by Gotye continuously for the last 3 days and will probably not want to hear it ever again in a couple of days. I become hugely obsessive and then very bored very quickly with everything from food to ideas and hobbies. My husband says he is just waiting for me to announce that I have grown bored of him, but I think he is the one thing I will never get bored of.
Thought I’d share my favourite song (for now) with you. It’s a great cover by Walk off the Earth. Enjoy!!
 |
| NEW GIRL |
Sunday, 12 February 2012
Just a usual journey home....(& some policemen)
After my brush with the police, and as I said previously, I have a new found fondness for the British Police. My new favourite programs are the reality shows about the English police forces. So I was quite excited with my brief encounter with the police on my way home the other night.
I got on my usual bus and noticed that even though we were all on, the bus driver was not going anywhere.
He then announced to the bus, “Excuse me, that blonde lady there. Yes, you haven’t paid for your ticket.”
A rather posh lady got up and walked to the front to pay for her ticket, announcing continuously that she had merely forgotten to pay. She then returned to her seat and rudely told another woman to get out of her seat. This poor woman looked very embarrassed and apologetically got up and moved. Another young lady kindly offered this woman her seat and I felt that there was a mutual disliking for this blonde woman by all passengers.
Eventually we were on our way, only to be pulled over by the blue flashing lights of the metro police only 2 minutes into our journey. All eyes were to the front of the bus where a police constable entered. He told the bus driver that they were looking for a blonde woman who had been seen shoplifting. At this point I’m sure we were all thinking the same thing, we knew exactly which blonde woman they were looking for. He then turned to us and asked, “Did anyone get on this bus at Battersea Rise?” We all looked around in silence, no one saying anything. He asked us again.
The bus driver spoke. “That blonde lady there got on at Battersea Rise.”
And I kid you not, the very same blonde we were all suspecting was asked to leave the bus with the policeman so they could have a quick word with her. She of course protested the whole time she was leaving, clutching her Cath Kidston bag very close to her chest.
It was rather exciting for a usual trip home from work; one slightly drunk passenger announcing to all that it was more exciting than Emmerdale!
I got on my usual bus and noticed that even though we were all on, the bus driver was not going anywhere.
He then announced to the bus, “Excuse me, that blonde lady there. Yes, you haven’t paid for your ticket.”
A rather posh lady got up and walked to the front to pay for her ticket, announcing continuously that she had merely forgotten to pay. She then returned to her seat and rudely told another woman to get out of her seat. This poor woman looked very embarrassed and apologetically got up and moved. Another young lady kindly offered this woman her seat and I felt that there was a mutual disliking for this blonde woman by all passengers.
Eventually we were on our way, only to be pulled over by the blue flashing lights of the metro police only 2 minutes into our journey. All eyes were to the front of the bus where a police constable entered. He told the bus driver that they were looking for a blonde woman who had been seen shoplifting. At this point I’m sure we were all thinking the same thing, we knew exactly which blonde woman they were looking for. He then turned to us and asked, “Did anyone get on this bus at Battersea Rise?” We all looked around in silence, no one saying anything. He asked us again.
The bus driver spoke. “That blonde lady there got on at Battersea Rise.”
And I kid you not, the very same blonde we were all suspecting was asked to leave the bus with the policeman so they could have a quick word with her. She of course protested the whole time she was leaving, clutching her Cath Kidston bag very close to her chest.
It was rather exciting for a usual trip home from work; one slightly drunk passenger announcing to all that it was more exciting than Emmerdale!
Monday, 6 February 2012
Snow Day
What’s this
What’s this
There’s white things in the air........
The snow may have been a month too late but it was still awesome!
By the time we came home in the evening there was about 3 inches of snow on the ground. When we walked past the Common it looked like a huge spotlight was shinning on the Common inviting us to come and play in the snow. And we did!
The next morning we went down to the Common where we were greeted by a whole community of lovely, if not slightly deformed looking, snowmen. There were little families, a cat and even what appeared to be a giant spider, who all didn’t mind posing for a picture or two.
What’s this
There’s white things in the air........
The snow may have been a month too late but it was still awesome!
By the time we came home in the evening there was about 3 inches of snow on the ground. When we walked past the Common it looked like a huge spotlight was shinning on the Common inviting us to come and play in the snow. And we did!
The next morning we went down to the Common where we were greeted by a whole community of lovely, if not slightly deformed looking, snowmen. There were little families, a cat and even what appeared to be a giant spider, who all didn’t mind posing for a picture or two.
Wednesday, 1 February 2012
The 8:22 train stalker - The Conclusion
It doesn’t feel like it was that long ago that I was wishing you all a Happy New Year. I feel as if someone has put time on fast forward.
My year definitely got off to a relaxed start up in the middle of nowhere. We spent the first few days of 2012 in Rhayader where there seem to be a few more sheep than there are people. It’s a small village in Wales; and the two things that struck me most about this gorgeous little village was that the children in the village actually spent most of their time playing outdoors and Rhayader has not experienced any serious crime in the last 3 years. Doors are safely left unlocked without the fear of someone breaking in. It felt like I had been transported back in time. In fact, the only real crime that does occur there is, in my opinion, justified crime. A man was put into hospital one night after being beaten up by the locals. The reason? He had been assaulting his girlfriend. Well deserved I reckon, and I doubt he’ll be doing that again.
Rhayder is a place I completely fall in love with every time I visit it. I have tried to convince my husband that he should pursue a career as a butcher, or anything similar really, as that seems to be the only type of work available there. Needless to say he requires a little more convincing. Apparently I am not as persuasive as I had hoped.
My January then became a little more eventful. If anyone has read my previous post back in October titled “The 8:22 train stalker” you will be familiar with my story of the gentleman of a creepy nature who had taken it upon himself to ruin my morning commute by following me, sitting where I would sit and then proceeding to stare in a most unwelcomed fashion. Despite my tactical avoidance maneuvers I couldn’t seem to shake him. I eventually had to move to another train. My morning train journey was restored. Or so I had thought.
In the beginning of December this same man suddenly appeared on my evening train. At first I wasn’t too bothered by it. It was only when I did a complete circle of the entire platform and he followed me every step of the way that I began to freak out. I managed to evade him and boarded the train at the far end of the platform. However with a bright orange backpack I am easily spotted in a crown and, just as I was boarding the train I noticed him making a beeline for my carriage and then sat directly opposite me once we were on. Now I may watch too many Hollywood movies like Taken; but it was at this point that I had visions of being stolen and kept in a small room. I came up with a cunning plan that my husband would come to the station with me so he could take a look at this guy just in case he would need to identify him. My husband wisely suggested that I actually speak to someone at the station and if by any chance they couldn’t help me, then yes he would come and meet me at the station.
I didn’t really like this option as it involved me actually going up to someone and saying, rather shyly, “Excuse me, but I think I’m being followed,” which I found embarrassing. But I did it, and received a rather unsympathetic response; and a phone number.
I expected that when I called this number I would be told to leave my details and then contact them again if anything serious actually happened to me. What I didn’t expect was the phone call a half hour later from the sergeant of the British Transport Police. He told me that he wanted to get this sorted out that day and that two plain clothed policemen would come fetch me from work. At about 17:15 I opened the door to find too huge 6 ft plus men who would be my personal police escorts. And so began operation Dynielle. It was just like a movie. We were going to be ‘undercover’. I had to give a description of the stalker in question (I think I may have told my story about four times that day. And after the entire incident, I think I have told this story I am telling you now about six times; each version getting a little more elaborate).
I had to pretend I didn’t know these two huge martial arts experts who flanked me on either side, at a safely subtle distance. I was told to do what I usually do and they would follow me. What I usually do is wait amongst the people in the middle of the platform and with a minute left to go I walk to the far end of the platform to the front of the 12 coach train that was due to arrive at 18:12. At 18:11 I set off down the platform as I heard the words, “This train is made up of 6 coaches.” I stopped dead, as did the two huge policemen behind me. Not as inconspicuous as I had hoped.
I had to turn around as the 6 coach train didn’t reach the end of the platform. The platform was packed that night and I could see my alleged stalker in amongst the crowd just ahead. I whispered to my police escorts that he was there, in the black puffer jacket. The one PC boarded the train with me while the other followed my stalker. (At this point I would like to add that the policemen were lovely men, and although it may be their job to be nice to young damsels in distress, it has since resulted in my new found fondness for the British police.)
When we arrived at the station, my stalker was taken into the police station to be given a warning. He was basically told that if he ever even accidently bumps into me, and I feel in the slightest bit threatened, then he will be arrested.
I was surprised at how serious they took a case like this, as I say, I was expecting to have to give a report and only call again if I was attacked. I spent about two hours at the station giving a report and the stranger formally known as stalker, was only released a half hour after I had left the property. There had apparently been many similar reports from women travelling on the train - not necessarily about this same man.
I was understandably a little nervous the next evening as I wasn’t sure how this man would react. He may have been aggressive the next time he saw me. As it was a Friday I caught an earlier train; and I imagine that with the purpose of avoiding me, so did my stalker. He didn’t see me take my seat as I was sitting a couple of seats behind him. When he did eventually turn around and see me, he turned back, sat for a brief moment before rising and making his way through the doors to the next carriage. I felt very powerful!
It was quite an exciting day, although it did all happen on my husband’s birthday and I successfully stole the limelight from him that day (sorry love). It was a good story though, one that I enjoyed telling. However, a word of caution to anyone else that has a similarly cool story to tell….don’t tell your mother. For some reason mom’s don’t find the need for policemen to escort their daughters home as cool as you would expect.
My year definitely got off to a relaxed start up in the middle of nowhere. We spent the first few days of 2012 in Rhayader where there seem to be a few more sheep than there are people. It’s a small village in Wales; and the two things that struck me most about this gorgeous little village was that the children in the village actually spent most of their time playing outdoors and Rhayader has not experienced any serious crime in the last 3 years. Doors are safely left unlocked without the fear of someone breaking in. It felt like I had been transported back in time. In fact, the only real crime that does occur there is, in my opinion, justified crime. A man was put into hospital one night after being beaten up by the locals. The reason? He had been assaulting his girlfriend. Well deserved I reckon, and I doubt he’ll be doing that again.
Rhayder is a place I completely fall in love with every time I visit it. I have tried to convince my husband that he should pursue a career as a butcher, or anything similar really, as that seems to be the only type of work available there. Needless to say he requires a little more convincing. Apparently I am not as persuasive as I had hoped.
My January then became a little more eventful. If anyone has read my previous post back in October titled “The 8:22 train stalker” you will be familiar with my story of the gentleman of a creepy nature who had taken it upon himself to ruin my morning commute by following me, sitting where I would sit and then proceeding to stare in a most unwelcomed fashion. Despite my tactical avoidance maneuvers I couldn’t seem to shake him. I eventually had to move to another train. My morning train journey was restored. Or so I had thought.
In the beginning of December this same man suddenly appeared on my evening train. At first I wasn’t too bothered by it. It was only when I did a complete circle of the entire platform and he followed me every step of the way that I began to freak out. I managed to evade him and boarded the train at the far end of the platform. However with a bright orange backpack I am easily spotted in a crown and, just as I was boarding the train I noticed him making a beeline for my carriage and then sat directly opposite me once we were on. Now I may watch too many Hollywood movies like Taken; but it was at this point that I had visions of being stolen and kept in a small room. I came up with a cunning plan that my husband would come to the station with me so he could take a look at this guy just in case he would need to identify him. My husband wisely suggested that I actually speak to someone at the station and if by any chance they couldn’t help me, then yes he would come and meet me at the station.
I didn’t really like this option as it involved me actually going up to someone and saying, rather shyly, “Excuse me, but I think I’m being followed,” which I found embarrassing. But I did it, and received a rather unsympathetic response; and a phone number.
I expected that when I called this number I would be told to leave my details and then contact them again if anything serious actually happened to me. What I didn’t expect was the phone call a half hour later from the sergeant of the British Transport Police. He told me that he wanted to get this sorted out that day and that two plain clothed policemen would come fetch me from work. At about 17:15 I opened the door to find too huge 6 ft plus men who would be my personal police escorts. And so began operation Dynielle. It was just like a movie. We were going to be ‘undercover’. I had to give a description of the stalker in question (I think I may have told my story about four times that day. And after the entire incident, I think I have told this story I am telling you now about six times; each version getting a little more elaborate).
I had to pretend I didn’t know these two huge martial arts experts who flanked me on either side, at a safely subtle distance. I was told to do what I usually do and they would follow me. What I usually do is wait amongst the people in the middle of the platform and with a minute left to go I walk to the far end of the platform to the front of the 12 coach train that was due to arrive at 18:12. At 18:11 I set off down the platform as I heard the words, “This train is made up of 6 coaches.” I stopped dead, as did the two huge policemen behind me. Not as inconspicuous as I had hoped.
I had to turn around as the 6 coach train didn’t reach the end of the platform. The platform was packed that night and I could see my alleged stalker in amongst the crowd just ahead. I whispered to my police escorts that he was there, in the black puffer jacket. The one PC boarded the train with me while the other followed my stalker. (At this point I would like to add that the policemen were lovely men, and although it may be their job to be nice to young damsels in distress, it has since resulted in my new found fondness for the British police.)
When we arrived at the station, my stalker was taken into the police station to be given a warning. He was basically told that if he ever even accidently bumps into me, and I feel in the slightest bit threatened, then he will be arrested.
I was surprised at how serious they took a case like this, as I say, I was expecting to have to give a report and only call again if I was attacked. I spent about two hours at the station giving a report and the stranger formally known as stalker, was only released a half hour after I had left the property. There had apparently been many similar reports from women travelling on the train - not necessarily about this same man.
I was understandably a little nervous the next evening as I wasn’t sure how this man would react. He may have been aggressive the next time he saw me. As it was a Friday I caught an earlier train; and I imagine that with the purpose of avoiding me, so did my stalker. He didn’t see me take my seat as I was sitting a couple of seats behind him. When he did eventually turn around and see me, he turned back, sat for a brief moment before rising and making his way through the doors to the next carriage. I felt very powerful!
It was quite an exciting day, although it did all happen on my husband’s birthday and I successfully stole the limelight from him that day (sorry love). It was a good story though, one that I enjoyed telling. However, a word of caution to anyone else that has a similarly cool story to tell….don’t tell your mother. For some reason mom’s don’t find the need for policemen to escort their daughters home as cool as you would expect.
Monday, 2 January 2012
Happy New Year!!
January is full of healthier, fitter and more active people. The gyms can barely fit any more people on their premises, personal trainers are in high demand, and vegetable sales go up as people swear that this year I will stick to my diet, I will eat healthier foods, I will exercise more and this year I will actually keep to my new year’s resolutions!
As creatures of habit this is a ritual we like to perform every year. We make New Year’s resolutions and we claim that this year will be different and we will actually stick to them. But come February you can actually get a spot on the exercise bike at the gym, you unfortunately started smoking again and you can’t remember the last time you had a home cooked meal. For this very reason I am not usually one for New Year’s resolutions; however this year will be different.
I am a notorious home-body. A perfect evening for me is watching a movie snuggled under a duvet with my hot water bottle and a cup of tea. That is why my new year’s resolution is to go out more and if given the choice of a night in or an evening out; I will from now on kick off my slippers and don that glittery eye-shadow in favour of a fun filled night out for a few drinks. The only problem is that my husband, who loves going out, is now aware of this resolution, and will unfortunately hold me to this if I try to revert to my familiar ways. Maybe I will be safer not making any resolutions; but who knows, maybe this year will be different.
What I do like about the New Year is the opportunity for a fresh start, which is the reason for the new look blog. Hope you like! And Happy New Year!!!
As creatures of habit this is a ritual we like to perform every year. We make New Year’s resolutions and we claim that this year will be different and we will actually stick to them. But come February you can actually get a spot on the exercise bike at the gym, you unfortunately started smoking again and you can’t remember the last time you had a home cooked meal. For this very reason I am not usually one for New Year’s resolutions; however this year will be different.
I am a notorious home-body. A perfect evening for me is watching a movie snuggled under a duvet with my hot water bottle and a cup of tea. That is why my new year’s resolution is to go out more and if given the choice of a night in or an evening out; I will from now on kick off my slippers and don that glittery eye-shadow in favour of a fun filled night out for a few drinks. The only problem is that my husband, who loves going out, is now aware of this resolution, and will unfortunately hold me to this if I try to revert to my familiar ways. Maybe I will be safer not making any resolutions; but who knows, maybe this year will be different.
What I do like about the New Year is the opportunity for a fresh start, which is the reason for the new look blog. Hope you like! And Happy New Year!!!
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