In Celebration

 In celebration of being able to walk easily and for a long distance this year, I have promised myself that I will walk 300,000 steps this February and so far I am well on target. Last February I had an operation on my right heel to fix my Achilles tendon. This time last year, for three whole weeks, I was not allowed to put my foot on the ground, leave alone try walking. The pub, which is next to my home seemed a mile away when I wanted to hop there on crutches. It is so easy to forget how difficult doing normal things was for me just one year ago. My determination to do these steps is a real celebration of my overcoming last year's op.

Soggy Syd

This week I have had assistance getting my steps up. I am down in Cornwall and I have Syd to accompany me. Syd is a lively collie with no off switch. We go down to the beach, walk along the cliffs and play ball. Down on the beach he is still a naughty puppy and a bit of a tart. He likes to get anyone and everyone to pick up his ball and throw it for him. Embarrassing! I even tried to get Syd to swim in the sea. He wasn't having any of it. He likes his feet firmly on the ground.  

A February swim in the sea

I have also had Diane and Jeremy to keep me company for the week. Each time we left the house we got wet. Every single day it has rained the sort of rain that soaks through everything. Then on returning home the house turned into a Chinese laundry with clothes hanging everywhere to dry out. One day the sun was out when I was on the beach and I almost forgot that this was not normal. Before I got home, it started to rain again - the end of my brief joy. Getting wet inevitably makes for more work. This is where dogs have the advantage. One good shake and they are dry! 

A wee bit of sun between downpours

My Sunday walk without Syd took me to three beaches and through the town. Along the way and soaked through, I dived into the Windjammer, a bar with views of the bay, next to the museum. Not only did they not sniff at my sogginess or my fussiness, they recharged my phone and served the best food imaginable with a smile. Seeing what others were ordering, I would readily go back and try other dishes. Perhaps I should extend my stay.

We also have good reason to celebrate a Gold at the Winter Olympics. For the UK, Matt Weston going downhill head first faster than anyone else, got us the first medal ever in the Skeleton race. Well done Matt! I went skiing in Livigno rather a long time ago with a large group of friends. We are all in current agreement that the Bombardinos we drank should feature in the current Olympic events. Back then, we would race to the bottom and have bomdardinos as our standard apres ski. A bombardino is a mixture of brandy, advocaat, hot milk and cream! A welcome warm drink with lots of alcohol after a cold day on the slopes goes down easily. I feel bomardino-ing has traction to become a competitive event. We could even try doing multiple spins in the air on a snowboard after drinking them! Easy!

Lovely weather for Ducks

Saying it is lovely weather for ducks just reframes a bad day when it pours with rain. Unfortunately it does not make it any nicer however you look at it.  Oh, how it has rained. It was almost constant throughout the whole of this week. Rain stopped play. Matches and practises didn't happen. It rained and rained so much it felt like my whole week was disrupted. Apparently in the first week of February we experienced more than a month of rainfall. So it was fortunate that my trip with Diane and Jeremy to see Stonehenge was dry for the bit where you walk to the monument even though it started pouring again when we headed back to the car. 

Stormy skies

Stonehenge is older than the pyramids and it was a draw to people from across what is now Europe and Asia. There is proof that back in prehistoric times, there were "jet-setters" who came a long way just to see a circle of stones which must have been a very important pilgrimage for the effort it took to get there.  

These are not the only stone circles in the UK. They are the most famous. Close by is Avebury which has the world's largest neolithic monument - I've been there and a road cuts through a bit of it. I have also been to the one in Orkney too. These are no less impressive than Stonehenge. For me, it is the technology that went into getting the stones to that place and positioning them so that they align with the sun's movements. Also that people hundreds of miles away built the same type of monument at the same time. Mind blowing! 

Like cathedrals from the Medieval times, people really had to believe in what they were doing to make such a legacy for future generations. They had both skills and foresight back then - both of which we seem to be lacking in so many areas of our life now. News is filled with the slow drip drip of the fallout from the Epstein files. Even now, scumbag men are being protected through redacting files while little thought is spared for the women. There is no thought about learning from this. Perhaps those conspiracy theorists who have been thinking along the right lines that the rich and powerful have more control than I have given them credit for are right. The way our world is; if a similar edifice to Stonehenge were built today, no doubt there would be restricted access for the plebs and women would be offered as sacrifices as they currently are in the media. Just a thought.

As for me, I am in Cornwall for the next two weeks and hoping for sunshine along the way. Syd, the dog, will be my companion on country and beach walks. Meanwhile I'll be getting on with writing the sequel to Naser's first book. I am boosted by knowing Beneath the Regime has already been read on five continents. While I know my blog gets seen in over ninety countries. This is one of the amazing feats of technology - not so long ago global reach for someone like me would have been impossible. 

Diane and Jeremy at Trelissick Gardens before the next deluge

The job specs for motherhood

A day off from being a Mum

When I signed up for the job of being a Mum about forty years ago, I didn't imagine the range of tasks I would have to perform. This week has particularly stretched me. My wide remit as a Mum has included sorting out my son's tax and fixing a flat tyre for my daughter while still wearing my dressing gown.  

The tax issue was especially taxing! The final date for filing for 2024-25 was January 31st 2026. So on January 28th I got the call requesting help getting it done. There is nothing like doing something at the eleventh hour to focus the mind. So, as Sammi worked his way through the questions on the online form, I had to say whether they were relevant or not. UK tax is not straightforward and despite it having had a lot of the jargon taken out in recent times, there is still some dodgy wording specific to tax that laymen like me need to get our heads around. Let's hope I gave the write advice! HMRC is MTD in future. That's another thing I need to get my head around.

On the flat tyre front, Danielle's front wheel went flat on her early school run on a damp, dreary morning. She wheeled the bike with attached trailer to my garden. I got out my repair kit and closed the door on her. Why on Earth would I want to sit around outside with very little on at 9am on a January morning even if it is my Daughter who needs help? Mattaya woke up so I took her indoors - no problem! Then Danielle asked me to put the tyre back onto the wheel after she had fixed the puncture. I got the inner tube and tyre back on the rim and then made a coffee just so we could wait and see if the tyre went down. Yay. Bike repairs and tax advice are just part of my expertise. 

Then of course it was Danielle's MOT this week as well. Convinced the car would fail, she asked me to go along to the garage so that she could get home if the car was not road worthy. So I can add taxi service to my job spec as well. Danielle's car needed significant fixing so it is still in the garage! Luckily the bike got fixed!

Muddy clothes

There are things that I don't do well. After all these years I feel I should have better judgement as to when it is not a good idea taking the bike. Last Tuesday it was cold, wet and windy. I went out, got plastered in mud and then plastered the inside of my front door with the mud from my clothes as I peeled them off. Mathematically there has to be an intersection between these three variables where I should not take the bike. I still need to find that intersection.

I had a day out on Saturday. A day off from being a Mum. That was fun. I went to London with Diane and Jeremy to visit the National Portrait Gallery and later to a show. In the Portrait Gallery, we worked our way through history from the Tudors onwards, and of course, the pictures say as much about the reasons for having them painted as they do about the subjects. I loved it. I am not sure which was my favourite picture but I learnt what a plumbago is and that Charles ll took the thrown on my birthday just two years short of three hundred years before I was born. I noted he also had much nicer legs than I have. 

Not far away from the gallery, there was a Palestine demonstration of about 150,000 people with loads of police milling about. Despite the cease fire in Palestine, the IDF are still killing Palestinians as well as Lebanese and they are still blocking the crossing to Egypt. Will no government stand up and call Israel out for its genocide? I stand with those demonstrators - even if I didn't physically stand with them on Saturday.

My neighbour Totoro iconic umbrella

As for the show, we saw My Neighbour, Totoro. Loved it. A naughty four-year-old, a busy dad and magical puppets made for a wonderful evening's entertainment. 

Little Gratitudes

 

Big bling

I'll start with a very big gratitude. My son, Sam, graduated from Sussex University this week. He now has a masters and a job! So as a proud Mum, I went down to Brighton with Danielle and the girls in tow to watch him walk across a stage along with about two hundred other students who also had very proud parents watching on. The event had more than a touch of bling and Sanjeev Bhaskar, the Chancellor, gave an inspiring speech liberally laced with humour. Sam took his niece, Ezra-Mae on stage with him and now she wants to go to uni too. Not a bad plan for a five year old. 

The Ceremony

This brought back memories of my graduation way, way back. My ceremony was very formal and the dress code rigid - nothing as relaxed and celebratory as Sussex' affair. In contrast, Sam's first degree came from a university established in 1413 and that graduation involved being tapped on the head with a leather cap of similar age to the buildings he studied in! Back up in Scotland, Lucky (Sam's old dog) came along to Sam's first graduation and was welcomed by all. The dog had attended classes and was well known to town and gown alike. When I went up to visit Sam in St. Andrews, I walked Lucky while Sam was busy and lots of people would tell me my dog looked just like Lucky - I'd say it was Lucky. 

Lucky was lucky  - he had a good life and was loved by all as he loved everyone. That is so true for us too. When we show love and gratitude this is reflected back to us. We have so much to learn from our pets - but not things like peeing on lamp posts, of course. 

I am also very thankful for the algorithms on my FB page at the moment. The world has gone way off kilter and it is a bit scary just listening to the news. These algorithms reinforce my beliefs about there being wonderful people in this big wide world. Trump currently features greatly on my FB page - and not because he is wonderful. The BBC call his behaviour disinhibited - a very polite term for plain crazy. This is a lovely term which I will adopt for people who fit the bill in my sphere - I just hope someone makes a counter claim on Trump lying about our commitment to Afghanistan. At the very least, brave soldiers who die in battle are not the losers Trump has said they are. 

I also like the term, TACO - TRUMP ALWAYS CHICKENS OUT - something he has thankfully done this week and then rebranded his annexation of Greenland / Iceland (a variable) as a victory. A comedian couldn't make up a character as warped and sociopathic as the world's most powerful idiot. Trump's behaviour is reduced to a Mexican dish! Sadly, America doesn't see the Emperor without his clothes and no one seems remotely bothered about his crass behaviour on the other side of the pond. Wakey, wakey!!

I remain hopeful though. All those amazing graduates I saw this week moving into the workforce can change our world.. As Orphan Annie said, "The sun will come out tomorrow. Bet your bottom dollar..." For those in the UK, behind the clouds there is still a sun that shines somewhere in the world. This is hard to believe when we have had so much rain this week. There are still good things happening in the world somewhere.

Conflict

Wet Bristol

My mind has been at war with itself for some time now. I can pinpoint when it first started and that was when I finished writing the book. As a retired, old dear who used to teach I found this new status of writer at odds with having produced something that I actually hadn't planned to write. What is worse, the process of writing fills my head so that almost every waking moment is dominated by thoughts of the book I penned. Basically my mind has been a whirl and a fugue despite knowing that it has been read on five continents already.

No more. I have just finished an NLP course down in Bristol and I can now say my head is clear and focused. I know what I want and I can see a clear path to my own personal redemption. I can tell people, "I am a writer." That is something I avoided before. I would say that I have written a book which is very much the "doing" and not the "being". I couldn't own the title of writer. I enrolled on the course for very selfish reasons. I wanted to sort my head out. However, many of the participants were therapists and professionals in the field - a fascinating bunch. They were in it for their career development. 

I got to know some of them, we went out for evening meals from the hotel and walked the sodden streets in the dark. Bristol is a beautiful place. I quite fell in love with the city.  On our trip to a restaurant, one landmark pub was pointed out to me. The Llandoger Trow, a pub dating from 1664 which is said to be the inspiration for Treasure Island - renamed as the pub, Admiral Benbow Inn in that story, and, Robinson Crusoe was created after Daniel Defoe supposedly met Alexander Selkirk there. Even though it was pouring down, the thought that one building should inspire such works from two great writers gave me a big buzz. Wow! For once, I chose the right clothes for the weather. Others in the group were not as prepared. Soggy feet and wet knees seemed to be the norm and there was rivalry over who was the wettest. Smart people sinking to competitive banter. Even I got the blame for their sogginess as I had jumped the puddles! 

A very famous pub

So while all the conflict in my mind was being washed through me, my thoughts were with Naser, who has returned to Syria, looking for prospects for his future. The day after he left, the UK government sent me travel advice warning me of heightened tensions in Syria making it a "no-go" for British travellers. He might be travelling on a Syrian passport, but he was heading for a danger zone nonetheless. Now over the weekend he hasn't read my whatsapp messages. I am just a little worried. 

The conflict dominating this week is Trump's desire to take over Greenland. Me thinks there must be financial gain from this offensive move otherwise why would he bother. Anyone who is gratified by taking a Nobel Peace prize awarded to someone else has to have a rather large screw loose. Fortunately I was in a classroom and missed the argy bargy. 

So, now I am at the end of an intensive course at the Future Inn, Bristol. I don't often rate "chain" hotels. In reflection, I like the hotel even though this one didn't serve fresh coffee - errr. BUT... the restaurant went the extra mile to make a wild mushroom tagliatelle from scratch. Thank you, chef! You made my stay. 

The Sequel

 

Frozen canal on a beautiful day

I never meant to write a book. On my list of things to do, writing a book was not there. However, having written a book in 2025, I am starting a second. The first one was about Naser finding security in the UK after fleeing Syria. This one is about what happens next. Naser went back to Syria before Christmas to find out the lie of the land one year on since the fall of Assad. I told him he is crazy as he has not long got stability into his life and he has his family around him now. When we talk, I see things through Western eyes so our chats have opposing viewpoints and sometimes sparks too. The book continues Naser's story and the continuing dilemmas he faces as a refugee. So the thoughts are his, the writing is mine.

I have lived in different countries, not because I was forced to leave the UK, rather because I could. I always knew I would return to the UK to retire. Again, this has been my choice and while there are lots of things I don't like or admire about my homeland; it is my home, familiar to me, and I have safety and security. Even when the weather is cold, miserable and downright uninviting, I still feel blessed that we have seasons. The point is, I have the choice. Having a UK passport brings opportunities denied to so many other nationalities. 

For people like Naser, there was no choice. Nor are passports from some countries worth the paper they are printed on. Even more so than before, the world is polarising into "Us" and "Them". The more we build a fortress against "Them", the less empathy we have. I despair of the political state of a world where  kowtowing to bullies and accepting policies that lead to the destruction of our earth is the way to go. Even worse is the invocation of God as an excuse for domination. This week the Ayatollah proclaimed that protesters damaging buildings is an act against God and punishable by death. We learn nothing from history. 

For me, this week has been quiet. I have got excited about the Traitors, read my second book of the year and have done all the usual drudgery and played a bit of sport. 2026 has been designated the year to get people reading more. To be honest, I am not sure how my time has disappeared so far this year. I just hope I can find the time to squeeze in reading even more books than last year. 

I looked after Shadow overnight at the weekend. She is a poor old thing these days. She fell down my stairs and she fell off the kerb when we went for a "drag" up to the Navigation Inn. These days, she is a trip hazard around the house, lying down on a rug and not moving much. These things will come to me sooner or later. What a thought!

Ragebait

A reminder all is well with my world

Oh, the wonder of words! Ragebait was word of the year in a very notable dictionary. Apparently it describes the outlandish things people post to garner a negative reaction. The mere fact that this became the most popular word in 2025 must mean that intentionally annoying people online was the thing to do. Not only did it fill people's thinking moments, it also brought financial reward to the perpetrators. My hopes for this year are for people to be a bit nicer to each other if that is not too much to hope for. 

Words are important. I have been teaching my four-year-old granddaughter, "delayed gratification". She fully understands the meaning and is now happy to wait for her requests to be fulfilled. I think it means a bit more than patience as it implies reward for waiting. Having taught her this, I am now working on "existential crisis" which is to be used before having a tantrum. I am hoping she will pause and consider her actions before bursting into uncontrolled fury. 

When my children were small, I told them, "hate" was a bad word so if they thought they needed to describe their feelings they must use, "dislike something intensely" instead. These words don't slip off the tongue so easily. It made them think about the implication of, "hating". Only the other day as we were walking around Stowe Gardens, we talked about this and other words from Danielle's childhood that seem to have slipped out of our consciousness. 

For me, my vocabulary shrinks exponentially these days. I am reduced to calling many drivers dickheads - we all know men are especially bad behind the wheel. They can't hear me but it makes me feel better. Things I don't like are inevitably naff - and we all know the origin of that word. Whereas if all else fails, I drop a "bugger" onto my tongue. Surprisingly, I have enough language in reserve to do The Guardian crosswords each day. Sometimes the clues tickle the cobwebs at the back of my brain and I wonder where the answer really came from. By Jupiter! I mutter. At least I don't call my children by my old dog's name anymore. I used to call them anything but their own name as the right name was never on my tongue. 

The early morning sun hitting my decorations

On the home front, the weather is well into the sub-zero zone this week. This is an opportunity where us Brits describe this as being nippy or refreshing when it is actually bloody freezing to the rest of mankind! It is crunchy underfoot, the skies are blue and the sun is out. My village looks like a chocolate box picture. My plans, apart from taking the decorations down are to get out and enjoy it before it defaults to grey and miserable, if not a pea souper.