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 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.