Making Lemonade

I thought having to confess to doing something silly yesterday was enough. I don't easily say sorry and admit that I am wrong - why would anyone want to do that?? (that is a joke - I do realise that I really should want and be able to do this far better than I do!). But last night reading Ko's blog, shone a light on yet another very silly experience.

Maybe I have led a sheltered life, maybe I am just not cultured enough - but I have never heard the Joan Collins saying "when life throws you a lemon, make lemonade". A very kind reader of my blog who I do not know left me a comment some weeks back. All the comment said was "make lemonade". Because I am not trusting enough to allow comments to be left on my blog without moderating them first, I came across this one and just thought "Huh?". Deciding that maybe someone had 1/2 deleted their comment or else done some other unintentional mistake I decided not to publish the comment and deleted it instead.

I then read Ko's blog yesterday and thought "Ahhhh!!!!". What a fabulous expression. I realise that my blog has been a bit of a depressing read, but, I am not apologising for that, I just needed to get some stuff out of my head. But what I would say is that I hope folks don't think that I haven't been making lemonade! I have mused some more on this today and realise that on the whole I have had a reasonably constant flow of lemonade, though, there have been times when I have started to drown in my lemons and even times when I have ended up throwing some back!

However, thankfully these times have been few and I am very grateful for the lemonade making opportunities I have had in a strange kind of way. They have helped me to be the person that I am and I know for certain there are still plenty of bottles that need filling in my life still.

Another favourite saying on the 1/2 full side of life, is one I received at the end of last year for my birthday

When it rains look for rainbows and when it is dark look for stars. I am an avid star gazer!

Repentence

I need a light hearted blog today to lift a heavy heart. So thought I would talk about Repentence - how heavy does that sound - hold your horses though, here's the story.

A prayful friend lent me a book some time ago - called 'Fight Like a Girl' by Lisa Bevere. I decided to start reading it some time later and edulged myself in a nice hot bubbly bath (my favourite reading place).

Horror of horrors, what then happened was totally predictable - yes you guessed it - I dropped the whole book, spladoosh in the bath (minus the cover - I had thought to remove that incase of getting it wet!). Not only was I left with nothing to read in that bath! I also started along the guilt trip road, of What Have I Done!!!!

Commonsense prevailed, the book went in the airing cupboard, dried out well, though had completely lost it's nice new hardback finish. I then read the book, it was good, not brilliant, but enjoyable on the whole. Some months had passed, I knew I wouldn't be seeing my lovely prayful friend for sometime, so put thoughts of it to one side. Then the date was sent to have lunch together. That day was today. Now what do you do? I could have gone out to the bookshop and purchased a new copy and not told her what had gone on and she would probably have never found out. However that would have cost me money and time, it also troubled my eco-sensitivities, the book was still readable. On the other hand the book might have been given to her by a special friend, it could also have been one someone had lent her, I knew I had other books from her in the past where this was the case.

After much pondering and praying I decided that the most honest thing I could do was to ask this friend whether or not the book fell into one of these latter categories, if it had I would most definately have gone and replaced it with a new one. I took it along to our lunch date, covered in a brown paper bag! I asked the question - she laughed and said it wasn't particularly special - why? I told her the story, took it out of the bag and we laughed together. She then remarked that now she could feel very holy when lending it to other people, because it looked so well used!!

Daft isn't it the things we can worry about.

Reflection

Is it because it is January that I feel the need to reflect and 'find me'?, is it because I have just turned 40? Is it because I have just lost someone very close and dear to me?



I honestly do not know whether it is anyone of these things or none of them. But I do feel very gratefuly that I have the time to do it. My sister was never one for looking back, I now realise that this is probably because living took so much effort there really was no time for reflection (or not much anyway). I have had times in my life when there really has felt like having 'no time' and there have been other moments when there has seemed to be so much time that I can't settle to do anything.



I do not want my 'trying to find me' to be a search for something that isn't there, my hope is that by writing my thoughts and sharing them I might be able to order them and rediscover the things that make me, me. I am also hoping that by seeing how people react to my thoughts I might be able to learn some more about me and see how others might be seeing me. I trust in my God to use those around me to help to mould and shape me to be the person that he made me to be. What I find most mind blowing is the thought that, God already see's me as he made me to be because of what Jesus did!

I've so enjoyed parenting today!

We did a favour for a friend last night, having their lad for a sleepover - they were soooooo good it makes me wonder why I don't do it more often (it did help that I had a friend for a sleepover too!!).



This morning, the three kids decided they wanted to make thumb wrestlers - here are the results:




Hopefully my parental enjoyment might just last all day!

God Incidences

I have a very good friend who whenever she hears me say - "You'll never beleive what has happened" always rolls her eyes and says "not again......" with a smile on her face.

You may think I am going to roll out yet more stuff about how bleak parts of my life have been. However, since finding Jesus my life has been far outweighed with some of the most amazing God Incidences, times when there is just no logical explanation for why 'good' things have happened.

The most recent of these happened after my sister died in November. She had become a Christian around 3 years ago. In the last 18months or so she had been doing an afterschool group to bring Sunday school to school children at the junior school her daughter attended. The group was organised by a local minister and one of her junior church leaders and Sally was the creative input to the team. I often had conversations with Sally when she was a bit stuck for ideas or wanted to share some of the stuff they were doing, but we never really talked about the team. I didn't even know there was a minister involved in it.

After Sally died, her daughter told me that her mum would have wanted the lady minister who ran the group to do her funeral. I had absolutely no idea who this person was or where she was from, just that her name was Alicia. Several days later while still at my mums there was a phone call which I answered and it turned out to be Alicia!

Now after I became a Christian I told my mum who made it very clear that she did not approve and never wanted me to be bringing it into her home (I was back living with them at the time). Mum had a very good relationship with her mother-in-law, my grandma, so this helped somewhat, that she was involved in the church.

Discussions about Sallys funeral were very very difficult, I suppose no parent ever expects to have to be burying their 36 year old daughter. Mum was adamant that there would be no funeral in a church, but was happy to respect her grand-daughters wishes that this minister was allowed to do the cremation service.

My first big discussion with Alicia, before she spoke with my mum and dad, revealed that she had been sent into ministry from St Alkmunds in Derby - not only that but she knew Grandma!!
(even though she had passed away 13 years ago!!).

This amazing God-incidence meant that I was able to give this information to my mum and dad which gave them a confidence in this minister that I do not beleive they would ever have had with a stranger. My continuing prayer is that this minister will stay in touch with my parents and my neice as I beleive without a shadow of doubt that He is waiting to say Hi to them just as he did with me.

The Day I met Jesus

So......after a couple of weeks of taking Grandma to church, I did start to wonder what all this church stuff was about. There was an atmosphere that I didn't feel part of though didn't feel excluded from. Not having been to church particularly in my life I had no idea of church etiquette - which actually turned out to be a fab thing.



I understood Communion was something that happened in a service which anyone could do - little did I know how religious organizations had managed to put such a structure around it to try and keep people like me out! Thankfully St Alkmunds in Derby were not bound up in this structure and therefore did not make me feel unwelcome.



So..... I would take Grandma up to the communion rail and receive bread and wine myself - it would have been rude not to! Then the Sunday came when I knelt down at the rail, received communion and felt Grandma's nudge for me to help her get up - then she nudged me again - but I was going nowhere. In that space on my knees, eyes closed, I felt Jesus say Hello.
I can't say for certain there was a voice, but there was a presence that could not be mistaken for anyone but Jesus (remembering that I really had no idea who this Jesus bloke was). I do not know how long I stayed there on my knees, I do remember becoming aware that the rest of the congregation were singing. When I opened my eyes there were two lovely Christians with me praying around me, they said very little out loud. My confusion about what had just happened obviously showed in my face and they suggested I go through to the quiet chapel with them to talk about it. There they sort of made some formal introductions to this new Man in my life. I closed my eyes and started a conversation with this Man, who just repeated over and over to me how pleased he was to meet me properly.



I was brought back to earth with a bit of a bump - I'd totally abandoned poor Grandma in the main church and she was waiting to go home - someone came and found me for her in the end. I'll never forget the time when she turned around to me and said that I didn't need to tell her what happened because she knew - she had been praying for me for 22 years and she knew that Jesus was answering those prayers.



My faith seemed to grow by the hour - I was very gently nurtured by one of those lovely Christians who was with me at the beginning of this journey. I often think about her and what a faithful servant to Christ she was for me. I must remember to contact her again (having not done so for many years now!). I could not read enough of the bible, she was able to lend me just the right books (most of them very old publications - I remember Hinds Feet on High Places being one of them).



So, Jesus called me and gave me the support and the faith to follow him, life has been a continuing journey since then but I feel so very very grateful to have had Him by my side for almost 1/2 of my life now.

My Paternal Grandma.

My paternal Grandma was a lovely woman. She lived about 8 miles away from us. She was very quiet (obviously where my dad gets it from!), but very thoughtful. She was very practical (I like to think I get this from her), always baking, gardening, working, volunteer working, visiting friends. We used to the traditional thing of either Saturday or Sunday going over for tea, which was always delicious and usually served in the living room from a trolley. We'd watch the tv and feel very spoilt, in the summer we might play in the garden in an old cart which we would take it in turns to pull each other in.

My Grandpa died when I was approx 9 years old. It was around Easter and 3 of their four children were there with all the grandchildren. Grandfather had been mowing the lawn before we had arrived and felt a little unwell so went to bed before we got there. When tea-time came Grandma went to give him a cup of tea and see how he was. He was dead in bed, he'd had a heart attack and gone.

I remember all us children being herded into the dining room with some sweets, we knew something was wrong but not exactly what had happened. I don't remember who came in and told us but by the time an ambulance came and took him away I do remember the atmosphere being very heavy. That is all I remember of the day, strange isn't it?

None of the Grandchildren went to the funeral, I don't remember how much we saw of Grandma and how she coped. I do remember a lovely picture of him and a poem/prayer appearing on the fireplace. He was only 66 years old - just a few years old than my dad is now!!!!!

Other fond memories that I have of Grandma is having strip washes in her bathroom - seems a very strange thing to remember but I reckon it must be something to do with physical touch. I imagine possible due to the abuse that mum had, she never really touched me much or at least I do not have memories of it. I do remember Grandma rubbing the whole length of my arms and lengths with a soapy flannel, then a rinsed flannel, and then a scratchy towel - sounds awful when I write it down, but it never felt awful - it felt very loving!!

I always enjoyed staying over at her house, especially the times when my brother and sister were not there. Sometimes we would go to her church, she used to do the flowers ready for Sunday. Sometimes we would go and do some shopping, you could walk into Derby City Centre from her house (though we often got the bus back!). There were also the times when we would go to up to the local geriatric hospital to work as volunteers in the tea-bar - this was very much a favourite thing to do.

I could never have imagined just how important Grandma was in my life. I always kept in touch with her when I had left home, as soon as I had a car I loved going and helping her out. After a series of strokes, she eventually moved to a sheltered housing complex, the place was found for her by her vicar who she talked about alot. When I had moved back to my mum and dads she offered to help me out financially in return for helping her do her weekly shop. So everyweek I would go over, we'd either walk or go in the car down to the local shops and get everything sorted. Sometimes I might stay for a meal, always for a cup of tea! She would tell me what she had been up to in the week and often spoke about the things she was doing with church. I used to feel quite jealous of the person that used to come and give her a lift to church everyweek and so decided to start offering to take her myself!!

Tagged

Thanks Fibrefairy -

1. Go to your fourth photo file

2. Go to your fourth photo in this file

3. Publish it and tell everyone something about it.

4. Pass this on to four folks.



This photo is of my daughter nearly 2 years ago I think - with her decorate your own easter egg given to her by her Aunty! Both my children really enjoyed doing this!! Looks like there may be a sweetie hiding in her mouth here too!



I see in the background is my sons amazing Knex building that he spent a week constructing! Funny - both my childrens passions in one photo - one loves creating, one loves to follow instructions! Boy I love them!!!!

Back to School

With all that had gone on going back to school (well college really!) was an interesting experience. I was beginning to beleive that I already had a wealth of life experiences, then suddenly I was one of the youngest on my course. Most folks on the course had been married, had children, had years of working experiences, or been home-making for years.



I never really fitted in and when a tall, strong, stranger started to make it apparant he was taking a shine to me, I lapped it all up. He was very popular and bore a very strong resemblance to the guy I had been living with. This time however, he adored me, he would do absolutely anything for me. Suddenly the tables had turned, I always knew I was taking advantage of him, that I did not feel like he did, but it didn't stop me. This wasn't the first time I had been in this position but some how it was different - before I had been younger and inexperienced, not doing anything with intention. This time I knew right from the beginning, how mean was that - I really knew how much I was hurting him but still continued, self gratification most certainly had it's grip on me.



I would love to say that I came to my senses and took the brave decision to end the relationship before too much harm was done, but I didn't - it continued for about 6 months and then it took The Big One upstairs to bring me to my senses.

Going Back

They are funny things, time and experience aren't they? In the last 10 days or so I have written about my mums experience of entering the world, am reading Private Peaceful by Michael Morpurgo and spent some hours last week clearing my Grandmothers house and discovered she had been married before meeting the man I knew as a Granddad. An amazing friend on reading some of my blog, commented about the ripple effects that war (on this occasion the 2nd WW, but pertinent to all I'm sure) has. I had never really thought about this in relation to me before - but if it hadn't been for the war my mother would never have been born. She would never have been abused, she would never have met my dad, she would never have had me - I can't quite decide whether this is a good thing or a bad thing!



Is it a case of our amazing God really and truly being able to 'work all things for good' (Romans 8:28) for those who love him. I cannot presume that my ancestors did not love Him anymore or less than me, that is not a judgement I have to make (Thank God!!).



I am in no way saying that the war was good or from God! nor am I saying that being born into such terrible abuse is good or from God. But surely I do need to cling onto this verse to have faith and trust that there must be something more to my life than just what is happening to me now. Is this just me (or my ego) wanting to be important! Or can I really believe that I am dearly loved and part of Gods amazing plan of relationship with humanity! Oh that's heavy for me on a Monday afternoon!!!!

Life in the 80's.

My sister on our horse Blaze.

Up until the point that I left home I had always shared a room with my little sister - 3 and a bit years my junior. In my teenage years my Dad made us some units so that we could effectively have a wall down the middle of our room to make our own bit of space. Sal and I had never really got on that well, the only thing we had in common really was our love of horses. Interesting once the units went up, I have very few memories of much communication with my sis at all. A wall obviously went up in more than one way.

Once I left home at 18 even though I was only about 5 miles away, I rarely went home. Working with the bank brought lots of new experiences. I got my first car and started travelling all over the place. I was sent over to our Norwich branch for several months, which meant staying in a hotel - I loved the independence and was quickly introduced to a lively night scene there! There were plenty of boyfriends until I met the man that I thought I was going to spend the rest of my life with.

I should have known better, but as they said love is blind. He was never really mine, he became the father to a baby boy at the time that we started going out, I was assured that the baby was the result of a fling with an old girlfriend, and I was happy to accept this. Three and a bit years later, he finally pulled the plug on the relationship even though by this time we had been living together for quite a while. My self-esteem had been completely eroded during this relationship. The feeling of being used and thrown away on a number of occassions throughout this time really had taken it's toll. I no longer felt that I had any friends that weren't 'his' friends, I had to find somewhere to live.

From somewhere (I now know this was from God), I managed to make several huge decisions at this time of such upheavel. I no longer wanted to work at the bank (this is where I had met him), it was also that time when interest rates started to go through the roof and so they was lots of redundancy talk in the air. So I made the decision to leave the bank, go back home to my parents (with their approval!) and start a course called 'access into higher education'.

My parents moved during this time and my sister had already completed her first year at Derby School of Occupational Therapy. She had already had several bouts of glandular fever and her health was really struggling with the stress of studying. I think I had already decided at this point that I wanted to follow her into Occupational Therapy but can vividly remember trying to keep my options open in those first few weeks of the access course.

This was definately a very defining moment in my life, it really was like restarting a life that had just got out of hand. From this point on I decided things really could only get better........

Leaving School.

I got through school, always feeling that I wasn't achieving what I could but with absolutely no idea of how to do better. I suppose I was one of those children who behaved reasonably well (don't think I ever had even 1 detention!), muddled through classes without to much help needed and therefore never really caught anyones attention. I was a chatterbox and I do remember being told that I would achieve more if I stopped talking so much.

My brother was 2 school years ahead of me and he left school at 16 with a few CSE's and started an apprenticeship with a garage belonging to one of my parents friends. My mum had been made to leave school without any qualifications to work in an office where she gained shorthand and typing skills. My dad had left school as soon as he could and did an apprenticeship with British Rail working with wood in train carriages (back in the days when they were wooden).
I had no pressure put on me with regard to school by my parents and exceeded my teachers expectations by getting 7 good graded 'O' levels. Without any real guidance I stayed on in the sixth form taking Art, Economics and English Literature. I hated the sixth form, without any of the boundaries in normal school I would often go home and watch TV instead of attending classes (both my parents worked). If not at home I would hang around in the common room with the crowd, especially if there were boys about.

By this time in school I had a best friend and she decided to stop her 6th form studies after about a month to go to work in a house rental department. I very quickly followed and left after the first term to work as an office junior in a plastic bag making company in Derby. My parents had no objections (I always felt as though they were rather releived!), as long as I started to pay my way at home.

My brother left home when he was about 17 to live in a flat near my parents with his girlfriend of several years.

After a year as an office junior, having been to night school and learnt how to type very quickly (I lied at my interview for my job and they didn't give me a typing test!). Despite the job not being great, I loved earning money and having my independence. I learnt to drive, though didn't have a car for some years to come, I had a boyfriend who was really cute though it was very on off and my parents didn't approve. The relationship finished, I started to go out with my best friend once again and got introduced to the Nottingham 'Garage' scene. I used to spend a lot of time dress making when I was at home and shopping. A typical Saturday would involve me going into Nottingham to the market, picking up some fabric, going home and making a grovy new outfit and then going out in it at 11pm into Nottingham to finish off the day in a club.

It wasn't long until a new guy was on the scene, and spent very little time at home. I then got a job with First National Bank, a finance company in Nottingham. My wages tripled, and it wasn't long before I left home to live in a flat with my best friend Sally and another girl. We used to pay £40 a month each for our accommodation - which had no heating and was very damp, but it was cheap and away from our parents!!! Now the fun was just about to go to a whole new level!!

Remarkable

My mum is a remarkable woman, with no help and no professional support she has overcome the worst possible start in life to raise a family of 3 children, to be married to the man she fell in love with as a teenager for over 40 years.

I might have a good old moan about my childhood, but being a facts and figures sort of person I am well aware that the statistics were stacked towards me being an abused child because of having an abused mother. I was not an abused child!!!!!!!!! Thank you mum x.

She is now facing even more, her youngest child, the only one of the three of us that had to be born in hospital has died. She not only has to face this grief, she is now along with my dad fully responsible for an 11 year old grand-daughter. On top of this she is also solely responsible for her mum who has recently had to go into a nursing home and has age onset dementia. Along with this she is has had to clear my sisters belongings from her council flat and is having to sell my grandmothers house to pay for her nursing home. How does she do it? How can I possibly not be in awe of her?

I am not her, I am Me, whoever that person is. I certainly know some of the things that I am not. So maybe I have found some thing that I am:

A 40 year old who has a wealth of childhood and family experiences that help me to empathise and see situations in a very broad context.

Daughter/Mother, Mother/Daughter.

As I finished a Milly Molly Mandy story with my daughter this evening, she was amazed when I told her that the stories had been written before her Grandma was born. I told her that I used to love the stories when I was younger which is why I am so enjoying reading them to her. She then asked me this simple question, 'Did your mummy read the stories to you?'.

Such a simple question but one that pains me so much. I recently read a friends blog that told a lovely story about a poem that she remembered her mum telling her when she was younger - the pain was the same then.

I was recently told a story by one of my mums oldest friends, it was at a sad occasion, the funeral of my little sister. I was one of three children - the middle child, eldest girl. This friend was commenting on how my little sister was the happy go lucky child, always with a smile on her face - I on the other hand was always the one throwing the tantrums. I knew this was true, but boy that hurt to hear it. She also told me how she first met me when I was just a hour or so old - I never new that. She said that my she had arrived at my mums flat for a planned lunch time catch up when my dad had opened the door and said 'come and meet our little girl' with a great big smile on his face. What happened??????

I have very few good childhood memories, no reading stories with my parents, no playing games with my parents, no cuddles, no songs - yet I know that my mum and dad love me now....... I just don't understand what happened. I do remember my mum showing me and my sister her doll from when she was a child - course I had no knowledge of what her childhood had been like at that point.

What do I remember?

• The constant 'stop showing off' which my mum would say constantly in front of everyone and anyone.



• Stealing money from my mums purse to go down to the shops to buy sweets.



• Having to always have my little sister with me if friends came to play with me.



• Loving anytime away from the house and my family.



• Having my mouth washed out with soap.



• The lies that constantly streamed out of my mouth, lies about nothing.



• Loving falling over in the school playground so that I would have a scab on my knee to pick - urgh!



• Being bullied by the girl next door, who spread stories about me round a new school.



• Getting involved with boys wayyyyy to early.



• Being asked by my parents if I wanted to go and live in a childrens home.

It might have all been miserable but I do know now that none of the things that happened to me were done with any malice in mind. I do so wish that I had known some of my mums background in those early days, maybe I would of understood more how much I was hurting her. Thank God that I grew up!!!!!

Mother/Daughter, Daughter/Mother

I think these two roles are inextricably linked. The way I mother my daughter (and son) seems so influenced by the way I was mothered and I am convinced that the way I was mothered was greatly influenced to the way my mother was mothered!

My mum had a terrible start in life. She was born in Germany at the end of the 2nd world war. The result of a young German woman having a relationship with an English soldier who then returned to England without her. My mum never met her real father as far as I am aware. When mum was about 5 years old her mother developed cancer, there had already been at least two male figures in mums life at this point. By the time her mum was 6 years old her mother was terminal and died, leaving my mum in the hands of a

terrible stepfather who was eventually put in prison for the way he treated her. I know from my dad that she was regularly locked in a dark, rat ridden cellar and given potato peelings to eat.

She was eventually adopted by her mothers sister who had already left Germany to live with her new husband in Canada. Her first ever flight was made by herself when she was about 7 years old to go and meet them. Life did not get any better. Her new father turned out to be a right tyrant, she was not allowed to speak German from the moment she stepped off the plane (though this was the only language she knew). Behind closed doors mum was treated as like a servant, not allowed to eat the same food, go out with friends, etc. At 13 years old this new family boarded a boat bound for England in the middle of the night without most of their belongings (there is a scandal to tell hear but I don't know the details).

Until she met my dad at 17 years old she suffered years of mental, physical and sexual abuse. She really does believe that my dad was her Knight in Shining Armour - and I can understand that.

I didn't find out any of this information until I was 17 years old and about to go and visit a relative in Canada by myself who my mum knew would tell me this story. At the time I was told I was horrified to discover that my Grandmother and Grandad were not really who I had thought they were (they were both still alive, my Grandmother still is today). It left me feeling very bitter towards everyone who I had thought that I knew.

I was sworn to secrecy, and told I was never to bring this topic up with anyone, however it does feel like a burden to carry it round, I have told people in the past but have always felt terrible for doing so. I am going to make a concerted effort to ask God regularly to take this burden away from me now, I know none of it was my fault and my knowing this information is not my fault either. However it affected me as a child and it is affecting me now as a mother - is it possible for me to truly hand it over and not allow it to do so? I do truly hope so.

Roles

I trained as an Occupational Therapist when in my early twenties. My final mental health placement was very difficult for a variety of reasons, however I co lead a community mental health group looking at the roles we have in our lives. The whole nature of the placement changed when my supervisor became aware for the first time of the roles that I had in my life. Did it change because of me or because of my supervisor? - who knows, probably a mixture of the two. What I do know is that I often reflect on that experience but have never tried to repeat it so maybe that is what I am going to do today!

current roles I hold:

mother
daughter
sister
wife
cook
driver
friend
church employee
employer
patient
disciple
home organiser
financial controller
shopper
gardener
lover
card maker
home owner
fair-trade campaigner

Roles I have had in the past:

student
carer
house group leader
seamstress
horse rider/keeper
step mum
socialite
book group member
volunteer worker
girlfriend
home renter
nhs employee
fashion follower

I am sure that I have probably left out many, I will add to it if I think of any!! Some of the roles are ones that I really enjoy some I would very much like to get rid of. I am going to start going through them in more detail in the days to come and am actually quite looking forward to doing it!

Trying something different

I have never really been one to write down what is going on in my head. I dabbled a little in my teenage years with diaries, tried again for a little while when I became a Christian in my early twenties, as 'journal writing' seemed to be the thing to do. My husband on the other hand has always kept a detailed diary of his thoughts, doings, and dreams, though think it has lapsed a little since we had our two children, a young lad of 9 and a young lady of 7.

A conversation with a friend recently was the final prod to get me blogging. We were talking with her husband when it transpired that as we have both just turned 40 and have children of similar ages we were also both struggling with the question of Who am I?

Somewhere in the last 10 years I seem to have lost all sense of who I am, what I like, what I want and where I want to go. So I have decided to ramble through my head and explore the different roles that I have (or have had) and try and see if I can find myself.