Ichabod's Day

(Attributed to the Maori) The sky may be clouded, but ever the sun,  Will sweep on its course till the cycle is run. and when into chaos the system is hurled,  Again shall the Builder, rebuild a new world. Your path may be clouded, uncertain your goal,  Move on, for your orbit is fixed to your soul. And though may it lead you through darkness of night,  The torch of the Builder shall give it new light. You were, you will be,  Know this while you are,  Your spirit has travelled both long and afar, It rose from the source, to the Source it returns,  The spark which was lighted eternally burns. It slept in a jewel, it leapt in a wave,  It roamed in a forest, it rose from the grave. It took on strange garbs for long eons of years,  And now in the soul of yourself it appears. From body to body your spirit speeds on,  It seeks a new form when the old one has gone. And the form that it find...

As I embrace my half century I do so with a mixture of reflection, indifference, excitement and a need somehow to both wear the badge of maturity and prove that I am still not too old. Too old for what? I've no idea.  I have waited for this birthday for a while, preparing with a clear focus denied many of my other 'milestone' birthdays. I have stopped colouring my hair, I seem to have spent many occasions stating - "I'm nearly 50" in a tone clearly explaining that I am too old for this (whatever 'this' may be). I was quite looking forward to being old. As a teen - 50 was very old. I thought being 50 meant: a) I am nearer retirement than a new starter (although with the pension situation this may soon not be the case!) b) I was over half way through my life (I don't intend to live to being over 100) c) I could be left alone to "wear purple and eat sausages" as the poem  by Jenny Joseph suggests d) I thought I would be a ...

"The continuing adventures of Angela and Sarah..." Some of you will no doubt be aware of my trip last weekend to Belfast to visit the Titanic Museum recently opened - I particularly apologise to my Facebook friends who by now must be feeling bombarded with photos and links - but hey - here's some more!! The trip was organised in a very last minute way - feeling overly burdened with work over the last semester, my good friend Sarah and I decided that we needed a break. Initial thoughts turned to Ragdale Hall, visions of pampering, spa-ing and all round glowing filled our minds - then we saw the prices - ahem! we thought again!! On the news the previous evening I had seen a report about the Titanic Museum opening (it being the centenary of the launch and sinking of this memorable ship) and decided that I must go and see it. I have had a fascination with the Titanic since being a child and some of my latent excitement was released at the thought of 100 years commemor...

Paston Windmill in Norfolk - came up for sale a few weeks ago for £500,000 - need a lottery win please! Only now do I feel as if I have returned to a normality (well normality for me anyway!). Both the trials and tribulations of welcoming the new dog into the home, and the mad rush of the new semester have exhausted me and sent me into a parallel universe where the only things in existence were traffic jams, an office, a bed, bunting and a virtual world with which I have been engaging to research, teach, facilitate learning and deliver a 24 hour virtual knowledge exchange for Occupational Therapists around the world together with my esteemed colleagues in OT4OT. I seem to have a finger in so many pies at the moment that I think I have possibly  grown a few more upper limbs - just wish they were functioning so that more tasks could get completed! And whilst I am very pleased that people are beginning to hear of my bunting exploits and orders are slowly arriving - finding the t...

We have a new addition to our family .....and I am exhausted!! I have spent the last three weeks: a) placating a five year old who isn't keen on sharing his toys b) using eyes in the back of my head to make sure that the "new addition" was where he should be and not where he shouldn't be c) trying to second guess signals - is he hungry? Does he need to pee? Can he understand what I am saying d) listening to others who are keen to give advice - however the often conflicting advice has made things even more difficult to points where I have felt completely impotent and deskilled. Needless to say I have spent the last three weeks  exhausted, guilty, frustrated, anxious and constantly checking for reassurance. Questions constantly run through my mind: a) are we being fair to the 5 year old? b) have we done the right thing? c) will we ever be able to leave the house together as a couple ever again? They tell me that this is exactly what mothers of new babies go t...

Yesterday was a wet and windy Sunday so I decided to do very little at all and had a bit of a film fest. The History of Mr Polly - a great John Mills black and white film, Sandra Bullock in Hope Floats and then I watched Fiddler on the Roof . I had seen this as a young teenager and remembering that it was one of the only musicals I didn't like, but it was a wet Sunday and I did have an easter egg to finish and needed a film to finish the trilogy before tea. Now, for those of you not familiar with the film I copy here the synopsis from the link above " In pre-revolutionary Russia, a poor Jewish peasant must contend with marrying off his three daughters while antisemitic sentiment threatens his home." So, not many laughs there then! However............... I was glued to the TV from start to finish - and I will admit to the odd tear (and maybe a sob or two!) as the film progressed. What I realised is that as a young teenager I possibly identified with the daughters in th...

As a child I frequently suffered with night terrors. Periods of waking through the night with inexplicable intense fear and dread which led me to scream out until pacified. My parents, after a while, subscribed to the "she'll grow out of it - just leave her to it" philosophy, leaving my older sister, with whom I shared a room, free reign to exacerbate the fear even further by telling me such things as the bogeyman lived in the airing cupboard in our bedroom! I can't blame all of it entirely on her, I will admit to an interest in, even a fascination (possibly macabre) for the supernatural from a very young age. I read innumerable ghost stories, loved Tom's Midnight Garden and would sit for hours in my Grandad's shed listening to the older children in the neighbourhood relating ghost stories.  During daylight hours these were all fascinating and would spur my imagination - which would return with a vengeance in the dark hours before the dawn and scare me to dea...