Proof of....

Hmmm, that last post kinda proves the diagnosis the doc has been trying to get into my thick skull, and another before him...

BipolarRUs...or is me..

Damn. Thought if I ran hard enough and fast enough I could slither out of that one.

Guess not.

To be informed is to come at problems from a position of power, a mon avis. So here's to a deluge of reading.

Any suggestions for info or websites will be gratefully receieved (but possibly not gracefully).

I know there are worse life sentences, much worse, but the rollercoaster seems bad enough to me sometimes...many times.

What If?

“Keep away from people who try to belittle your ambitions.

Small people always do that,

but the really great make you feel that you, too, can become great.”

Mark Twain

 

 

What do you think?

Does it seem to you that other people feel threatened by you and try to keep you down when your ideas get too big? Or when you have an idea at all.

How often are you stomped on 'for your own good'?

And they really do mean it to be for your own good because they don't want to see you hurt or disappointed. That I can see.

 

But what if the resulting hurt and disappointment are part of being you? Being alive? Taking chances? What if you are a chance taker and they are not? What if they don't understand that falling flat on your face is better than never trying to fly in the first place?

 

And even though they don't understand, none of them, is it ever alright for you to make a run for it and leap into the wide blue yonder? Especially since you never wanted them to pick up your pieces in the first place, that that was simply a role they appointed themselves?

 

Is it ever alright to take chances and break out of your box when no one understands why?

Is it necessary to try and explain? When do people stop trying to squish you into their shaped sort of person?

 

And what if you don't actually fail?





Plodding Along

Its Thursday and despite wading through the Slough of Despond this week, tomorrow is Friday...well, here in the West it is...and I feel like I may actually make it to the end of the week. Maybe. Last night was one of those mental 'hammer horror' nights when I wasn't sure I actually wanted to survive to tell the tale...actually the last several days and nights have been thus.

I've one particular friend who has a gift for texting at the blackest moments with a 'hang in there!' She feels helpless because that's all she can do but to me its huge. Sometimes just a text is enough to refocus the inward view.  Ewe are my sunshine!

This week has been warm and sunny, summer arrived suddenly and properly! Its just lovely to be warm and feel the sun on one's skin, and the children in school are so lively and happy too. A bit of sunshine makes all the difference in the world.

Youngest and Cohorts began their Leaving Cert. exams yesterday. So far ok, it seems. Thanks be!

So...TGIF tomorrow.

Organ Trouble...AGAIN

Picture Heckety staggering out of the Cathedral's Morning Service just now, wiping sweat from her brow and hiding behind the nearest gravestone to curse loud and long...(blue air)

During the second hymn (quite a short and innocuous hymn, 'Here is Love') with a grumbling rumbling reverberating moan the Organ took off on its own, in a completely different key to that in which I was playing, with the windy weighty discord becoming swiftly louder than my playing. Got to the last chord and I reached to turn it off before rising any of the stops.

It was HORRIBLE.

For the final hymn all that worked was about 18 notes on the upper manual, Middle C upward. No bass, harmonies, and only the shortest pipes, so really high-pitched and whistly. Also no pedals or volume increment. The Choir did a great job, also the Dean, but mortified? Much? Moi?

Next Sunday is the Enthronement of our New Bishop which is a real big deal in the life of the Church, so the Vestry has six days to get that bokety yoke of an instrument up and running.

Nice one, Organ.

Talk about a diva of an Organ, chooses its moments, always.

Aaaargh Grrrrr....


Mars bar solace called for...sssshhh...don't tell....
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

On a TOTALLY different note (ha ha) read this post about 'The Rooster of Mindfulness'- its ACE! I wish I'd real it before Church and then maybe I would have appreciated the moment and not got me knicks in such a twist?!

Peace Please

http://frommoontomoon.blogspot.jp/2010/12/mmmmmm-books.html

Think libraries,

think books,

think calm, quiet places to be

where nothing is broken,

or urgent,

or being blamed on me,

and there are no children

and no deadlines.

When I die

heaven will be a library

full of books I have read and love,

books I have yet to read and love,

and eternity to

appreciate all of them.

 

Define 'Catch 22'

Just watched a new definition of 'Catch 22'

rock and a hard place

devil and the deep blue sea:

 

 

man feeding coins into the centralised parking disc meter to get his ticket

 

with the traffic warden getting nearer and nearer to his (ticketless) car

 

and his small person heading determinedly toward

the 

deep muddy puddle

 in the opposite corner of the car park....

Apple P.W.F.D.s

My Great Grandmother was an Innovator and Entrepreneur in the grandest sense, who never did anything by halves.

The story goes that she would try any recipe once...from the book. After that she Innovated, generally-ish, with mixed results...fabulous or dodgy, nothing in between. As a result she was rather well- known for her cooking as at no point were family or guests certain if a meal would be edible.

A bit of this...slosh of that...go on, that's not enough...try a bit more...oh well...just put in the oven dearest and see how it goes...

Her bread rolls were particularly notorious as she insisted on supplying all travellers with them in their picnics and because none ever returned (bread rolls that is) she remained convinced that her recipe was both popular and invincible.

Until the day her youngest son and friend claimed to have killed a railroad worker on the Belfast line when they tossed their (inedible) bread rolls out the train window on the way back to school...

Not in a million years would I claim to be the character my Great Granny was but my cooking skills travel much the same road. This evening I fancied pancakes, a staple quick snack for me with all the food intolerances as I can make them from various flour types.

Apple PWFDs

Pancakes.
A good shake of gluten free flour...bit more...half tsp salt, wrestle lid off the gluten free baking powder and spill too much in the bowl...Ooops. Maybe we'll go for:

Waffles.
Eggs...damn, no eggs. Dried apricots whizzed with soya milk and water? Bit more water...more soya milk...that looks ok. Tip it into the flour mix with a bit of cane sugar and mix. Pour first...

PanWaff.
Eat. Lovely. How about adding some chopped apple to make:

Fritters.
Batter is too flowy, well the:

PanWafFri.
...did start out as pancakes after all, so better make them smaller, more like:

Drop-scones.

Which makes them:

Apple PanWafFri-Drones I guess.

Spread liberally with soya marg or maple syrup.
Guaranteed knockout...but hopefully not of railway men!