Set in my ways

When I was a child I said very little but listened a great deal. Anyone who knew me in my teens and onwards would split their sides laughing at that one. To say I was vocal, impulsive and at times slightly annoying by 15 is an understatement. A free spirit who didn't want to be caged in any way shape or form and who wasn't afraid of letting the world know either.  I cringe now when I think of some of the stupid things I have said and done :).  

We lived in a beautiful rural area of N Irish countryside down a long winding lane with my granny.   Extended family visitations were always exciting and much anticipated.  The ladies would gather and chitter away putting the world to right or wrong.  One thing the 'oldies' said always made me curious.  They would be discussing someone and describing them as "VERY SET IN THEIR WAYS" .  Spoke in a long drawn out animated way.  This term was used sincerely at the end of the slating or praising of the said person.  


I eventually grew to understand what this phrase meant to me.  I vowed I would never turn into  someone so boring and uninteresting.  How could a person become to be so afraid of living on a whim, doing what they wanted to do as the moment took them.  Little did I know that some day I would admit that it is a blessing in many ways to be SET IN MY WAYS.

For years I was always buzzing around not fit to relax at times and not always making the best of the opportunities, times or my own worth.  Now I find great comfort in a well worn daily routine whether it be self employment from home, housework, gardening or cooking.  Wisdom has eventually knocked on my door.  Though when an unexpected interruption of my routine hits me ... I am uneasy.

I love my life, my little routines, my set times for organising days out to see my friends.  I giggle at my mission on very particular days of the week to hit the shops.  I like to buy my groceries so early in the morning that I am meeting the pre-school traffic on my way home :)    I treasure the chair I sit in, the china cup I drink my coffee from and the unmatched knife and fork that I relish using at dinner time.  I shockingly and ashamedly am now set in my ways and I sometimes wonder did the oldies not realise that maybe they were too !

At present we are preparing for the marriage of our oldest child, our first born son.  We are so delighted and thankful that he has found his wife to be.  Her family are lovely people and we will have a wonderful day but my gosh we are so out of routine its frightening.  I just want normality ... the invitations have gone out and we await the chasing of close relatives to verify that they will grace us with their appearance. 

There are so many bits and pieces to be tied up.  I still have to find shoes, hat and a handbaggggggggggggggggggggggggg !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  We are now counting weeks.  I have work going on in my home and a new back door ordered.  I NEED AND WANT the outside of our home painted before visitors call ...I have been chasing a painter for a start date as months.  I am under pressure, I am stressed out  and my routine has gone to pot but at the same time very excited.  I don't want to wish the weeks away or state I WISH THIS WAS ALL OVER AND WE WERE BACK TO NORMAL.  Precious times and treasured memories are being made .. life will pop back into place by the start of November.  I will have lots of time to relish being set in my ways.  

The photograph on this post reflects in some way my memories of our cottage in the 1960's. Please ignore the 2 postcard posers at the front door. :)  The lady on the far left is so like my mother right down to the way she stands arms by her sides. The way she dressed and the style of her hair.  I remember our home being very white but very cosy. My play companions were dogs, cats and hens.  We had no water or electricity and no bathroom either but we survived it.  Our water supply was a well a few foot from the front door where we fished in a white enamel bucket pulling out the most delicious, coldest water ever. We didn't get sick or need antibiotics then.  We had an outside toilet (I now have 4 inside toilets and am very grateful for them) and we washed instead of showering. I went to Irish dance class on a Monday after school and stayed with my aunt.  She had a proper bathroom and every Monday night she'd switch a 3 bar electric fire on and fill a big bubble bath just for me.  She loved me dearly and I her.

Life was not perfect, many times I listened to whispered and raised voices when was money being worried over. Money was only mentioned when there wasn't enough of it to go round. I know for certain my mother skipped meals so I was fed.  Growing up in poverty is not something to relish but it arms you with a strong conviction to survive.  I genuinely would not swap being born poor. I hated it at times but its memory serves me well to this day. It hurts me now to see someone struggling like my mother and granny had to.  I am fortunate through God's good grace not to have to lose sleep over financial or material things.  God has been good to me.

My granny and mother knitted Irish jumpers earning a pittance, by the light of an oil lamp and a big open fire whilst we listened to plays on the radio.  We read lots of books and created stories whilst staring into the flickering embers of a big fire. We toasted bread and boiled a teapot in front of it when the bottle gas ran out with no money to buy more. It tasted so good :)   In some ways I wish our lifestyle was similar to this today.  Everything is so instant. 

It takes a long time in life to realise the people who reared you were incredible people in their own right.  They may not have been powerful or wealthy but they were treasured individuals that had such an impact on all that came into contact with them. They were generous to others even when they had little themselves.  Such strong individuals who never would have admitted they were SET IN THEIR WAYS.

No place like home

I had not visited France in 15 years and was incredibly excited about the upcoming, much anticipated holiday to the histoic city of Bordeaux. We relished the thought of sitting at a little French cafe sipping dark red wine and watching the world go by.  

One of our sons was to travel with my husband and I, but so many little challenges were thrown at us in the days leading up to the trip.  One of our cats was knocked down and  our sons work commitments could not be rearranged to enable him to travel with us.  The decision was made the two of us would travel on our own. Our son would remain at home administering medication to the the fluffie one and working 12 hour shifts at his summer job.   Sounds simple :)

My husband and I left at approx 5 am to drive to the airport.  We had travelled a few miles and he predictably said to me as he always does "HAVE WE EVERYTHING WITH US".  I obligingly dived headlong into my handbag ensuring all documentation, money etc dwelt in the deep well of doom :)  I suddenly realised...NO PHONE !!! 

So we turned the car sharply on the country road, drove home and sitting at our back door was my suitcase.  I kid you not !!!  I grabbed the phone and threw the case into the boot of the car. We were shocked to be honest and we headed onto the airport reciting a litany of what ifs to each other!!!  

We arrived to find that the line of people to pass through security was ridiculously long, we could easily miss the flight. This was one of the busiest weekends for departures ... we should have realised that. 

I approached a member of staff and explained that we were going to miss the plane if he didnt allow us to purchase Priority which allows one to avoid the mass of holiday makers.  He point blankly said NO CAN DO. New airport policy has been implemented and you have to purchase this privilege before arriving at the airport.  We stepped into the mass acknowledging the inevitability of a missed flight. My dreams of sipping the rich red were fading away. 

After a few minutes I watched him allow a couple to skip the herd and pass through into the Priority.  I approached him again questioned how and why :)  He firmly said that the gentleman was in pain and found it difficult to stand for a long time. Deep breath taken and the begging began.  I explained to him about 'my' very painful hip and that I was finding it just as difficult to stand in this queue too !!  I neglected to add it was due to heavy digging in the garden that I twisted my right leg a few days previous.

He then looked me in the eye and said in a broad local Antrim accent "ARE YOU TELLING ME THE TRUTH"?

Now it was a Sunday morning and if I were to lie about such a thing and especially on a Sunday there was no hope for my soul :)  I locked into his doubtful gaze, gave him my word and he graciously let us bypass a few hundred people. We gratefully passed through security in a matter of minutes.  Only it was so early in the day I would have swiftly downed a very nice glass of wine.  With relief we made our flight on time...just ...  In hindsight and considering all the drama, maybe if we had have missed the flight it would have been a blessing... 

This photograph was taken as we walked from the bus stop.  The air was delightfully warm and the light soft.  I was so happy.  

Basically this is about the highlight of our holiday.  To cut a long story short our accomodation was awful. We had booked via BOOKING.COM as always but we were disgusted by the dirty apartment that we had paid good money for.  I will pop in a few pics below ... after 24 hours of not being fit to breath in a hovel. we made the decision that we would fly home.  We would have to wait another 24 hours before we could actually do so. For us to transfer to a good hotel would have cost us approx £200 more than it cost for us to return home via England. The decision was made we were going home !!!

I can still smell this place !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

So we fled the hell and walked most of the day. We ate gorgeous food and drank very pleasant red wine.  Bordeaux has a delightful old town but many homeless destitute people are scattered through the surrounding streets and shopping areas. Mostly African and looking very desperate. 

It was sad to see so many people just trying to survive. The shopping districts were guarded by an army of soldiers with heavy guns.  We travel extensively and we are seeing a massive change in European cities.  So many desperate people trying to stay alive.  We actually saw a man that would not have looked out of place in a concentration camp photograph after the end of WW2.  He was not African but European and he lay in the street with his faded, dirty t shirt half way up his chest,  He was skeletal and his abdomen sunk into his back. His facial bones sticking out of greyish skin.  I have seen many people down on their luck but this deeply distubed me.  He was completely still totally unconscious.  People walked by as though he was a leaf lying on the road and police patrolled the area ignoring him.  I genuinely would not like to be on those streets after dark.

All in all our little dream of drinking rich red wine at a street cafe was not all it was meant to be ... I sincerely was never as glad to see Luton airport in all of my life.  I knew we had one more flight and then we would be back home.  We landed in Belfast, the air was fresh and boy did it feel good to be home.  I gratefully climbed into a lovely clean bed and slept like a log.  On day 2 of returning home I became extremely ill.  Severe vomitting and exhaustion.  One of the nails on my hand had swollen with a sickly green residue seeping out of it.  I am not a germaphobe or a fussy person, I can cope with a bit of dirt but this was different, it was disgusting.   I believe that the bed linen was unclean and I suffered for it.  This is a woman that gardens, takes care and cleans for an elderly relative and loves to get her hands dirty on an everyday basis.  Clean dirt comes to mind :)  All in all it seems that our son was the lucky one .. he stayed home.  

There is no place like home :)  


FOOTNOTE

BOOKING.COM never refunded us even a single penny...I emailed them approx 30 disgusting photographs but they didn't think it was their problem.  We should have sorted it with the owner of the apartment was there final analysis.  Words fail me and I will not be booking with them again.  

To 'sort' that apartment would take a week even if a team of clinically diagnosed OCD cleaners attacked it. !!!

At times ungrateful

Yesterday I attended a local country chapel for the Good Friday Stations of the Cross.  We parked along the roadside as the small rural car park was full.  My son and I walked the short distance up the hill to the little chapel as many generations had done before us.

We entered, no Holy Water in the fonts to bless us today. We took our seat, we were running late.  On the altar was the Crown of Thorns and the Tabernacle lay open and empty. A thought provoking sight.

Within a minute the bell rang for the priest to leave the Sanctuary and approach the altar. He enters slowly and unsteadily, he uses a stick to walk now.  Goodness radiates from him, a humble good man. He welcomes the congregation and leads us reverently to the beginning of the 'stations'.  His words touched my soul.

"2017 years ago this was the most important day in the history of this world.  No other day could ever be considered as monumental or more important than the day Jesus gave up his life for us.  We are here to honour and remember that defining moment the day that He accepted of His own free will to die for the sins of every man and woman.  To die for us."

I felt an overwhelming sense of ungratefulness. Forgive me Lord for taking your sacrifice at times for granted. Thank you for loving me so much that you died for me.

As the prayers begin he encourages us and enlightens us with the circumstances of  Jesus walk to his imminent death. No matter how many times I witness this prayerful event I am deeply moved.  The horror of it can not be imagined.  How Jesus suffered for me.  The weight of that cross crushing Him is heartbreaking.  The indignity of his suffering and His last breath that he gave up ... His crying out to God the father moves me to tears.

As a mother the image of Mary Our Mother watching her beloved child die such a horrific and painful a death is unfathomable.  We are reminded of Luke 2 : 35

At the time of the presentation of the Lord in the Temple, Mary was told, "a sword will pierce through your own soul also" (Luke 2:35).

The old priest's emotive understanding, tender love and respect for Jesus suffering fills us with an understanding of God's immeasurable love for us all. He paused half way through the ceremony and sat silently for a while.  His frailness and utter humble acceptance of his own physical situation was palatable. He accepted the help of a modest man to hold his prayers for him as it became clear he was unable to do so himself.

" We adore Thee, O Christ, and bless Thee.
Because by Thy holy cross Thou hast redeemed the world."

http://www.catholic.org/prayers/station.php?id=1

After we respectfully completed the 14 stations, I left that chapel spiritually renewed and deeply aware of the love of God.  No matter what life throws at us and no matter what difficulty that seems so overwhelming, we are not alone. I humbly thank you Jesus for dying for me.  Many times I have wandered away and tried to live without God but I know I can't.  I am eternally thankful and grateful for God's true grace that has led me to this realisation.

Yes we live on a hill :)

HHello everyone :)

The new blog name says it all.  We are the folks who live on the hill :)  The benefits of doing so are wonderful during the delightful months of Spring, Summer and early Autumn. The rest of the year we are battered from all directions by the wind, rain and snow. I am not complaining as the views are wonderful no matter what the weather may be.  At present the multi-coloured leaves are falling at an alarming rate but we have been blessed with mild weather and lots of that special Autumn sunshine that illuminates everything in its path. 

A bit about ourselves...there is my husband and I, 3 cats and 3 grown children one who arrives home every weekend from the big city.  Our remaining 2 are studying in other parts of UK.  We live approx. 40 miles from Belfast in the North of Ireland and are blessed to live in such a beautiful country. 

My blog will be a little space for me to save a few memories and hopefully it will be filled with many pleasant ones.  The last few years have been tough and the loss of both our mothers in a matter of months certainly took its toll.  Now we move forward and my new blog will, please God, be a happy record.

So hello from Effieq not my real name but a pet name my children have elected to call me. Speaking of pets, we have 3 cats who believe that they own our home and we are the guests.  We all adore them and enjoy them immensely.  The picture below is of 'the special one '.  This one does not believe in entering the house via a door even if it is wide open.  He has a particular window he frequents. Here are a few other pictures taken around my garden in the last few months. 

I love a plain simple home and I am at my most peaceful when it is clean and tidy.  That happens now and again :)  

So that is the first post over and done with phew !!!!!  

God bless all.