Running for Fun

 Today I went for a run. I wasn't supposed to. Yesterday I did something very stupid which resulted in a dodgey leg and I said I was going to rest. However during the week my new running skirt had arrived and I had promised myself I would take it for a test run today. I have a silly rule that I must wear a skirt on a Sunday but that's not usually possible when running. Besides, my son had rugby practice and I could either stand on a cold pitch watching or go for a little run.
  I wasn't expecting great things from this run but with a science background I find it almost impossible to run without analysing my speed, distance, pace etc. Every run has to be run with a time in mind. Today I took my son to rugby and then got out the car to take a photo of myself in my skirt. I proved I am useless at selfies and that my arms aren't long enough to get my face and my skirt but never mind.
  I set off on my run with a limpy leg and almost regretted it immeadiately. I checked my watch and was already running 2 minutes slower than I would normally set off.  I didn't stop though. Every runner knows that the first 1km is the worst so I kept going.  It wasn't long until my leg started to work and I was picking up the pace. Then it happened. There was That feeling that all runners dread. My stomach started to churn. Now there are occasions when you can run and you know the churning will just create wind. I've run on beautiful sunny days where people have looked up to see where the thunder is coming from when really it is me passing wind.  Today I knew that with that churning I didn't dare let anything out. Luckily I could see a toilet block in front. I had run less than a mile and was now running with my chest out in front and my bottom out behind with my buttocks tightly clenched. I didn't dare speed up and it was too risky to slow down. It was a case of concentrate hard and pray you didnt see anybody you knew.
  I made it to the toilet block but didn't dare relax just yet. Do you know how hard it is to get the bolt across on the toilet door when your runner's belly is trying to escape ? I won't go in to detail but I was glad I stopped my watch so nobody would know how long I was there!  Once relieved I came out and took a photo of the loo block. By now my run was truly interrupted and never going to beat any targets. However my time out gave me time to think and I restarted my watch and my run with a new goal. I decided I wasn't going to look at my watch and I was going to run this for fun. I was actually going to see, hear, touch and taste this run. I was going to live it.
  I set off looking toward the lifeboat station where the RIB was sat on the slipway with the blue sea

beyond. Instantly I knocked my bottle off my belt and smashed the lid. I didn't stop my watch. I laughed as I drank the cool, orange sports drink that made my hands sticky and threw the broken top in the bin.  With the wind behind me on the promenade I could feel my feet lifting from the floor as it pushed me along faster. I ran past the dog walkers, the children on scooters, the football match in the field.  I listened to the crowd cheering and teammates shouting to each other. I heard the water spraying in the play park as I went by. My feet were pounding on the path as I ran along.
  It wasnt too long until I reached my turning point- the Gosport Golden Mile finish line. I stopped, took a photo and turned back into the wind. Normally I would curse running against a 24mph wind with stronger gusts. Today I smiled. I held my arms out to the side and let the wind jostle my sleeves. I let my top fill with wind and create a drag net behind me. My new skirt was pressed against my legs in the wind. It could have been worse, the wind could have lifted it to display the under shorts.  I ran back slowly, watching the large ships on the Solent. I listened to the wind roaring in my ears. I felt it blowing through my fingers, pushing against them and making their own little sound and ripples. I watched the white horses on the sea and wondered just how choppy it would feel in the water.
  I could taste the salt in the air and feel it drying on my skin. As I ran through a parking bay somebody blew smoke out their window. I knew I was going tonrun through it as I could see it
coming towards me. I thought I would smell cigarette smoke but I could smell strawberries. They must have been smoking an e cigarette thing. I carried on running and then I walked for a bit just so I could take in the view a bit more. Running again I could hear the footballers again so n
Knew I was getting back close to the start of the promenade. I kept going and ran past the turning I needed so I could run to the start line of the Gosport Golden Mile. I stopped to take a few photos and I walked back towards the road.
 I noticed a gentleman carrying a log, loads of weathered sticks and a rucksack full of driftwood. Smiling, I started a conversation with him. He said he was like a kid in a candy shop today as the beach was strewn with beautiful driftwood. The large log was going in his garden. The smaller weathered pieces were going to be used to decorate mirrors and plant pots. He was meeting his wife in the car park. As we approached the car park I started to run again. I heard his wife moaning 'You said it was just a couple of pieces'. He replied that he had several large pieces to go back for and then I was out of earshot but I don't think his wife was too pleased though.
  I ran a little way up the road and noticed the bluebells growing along the roadside. I stopped to take a photo. I looked back at the sea behind me, across at the football match and forward to where I was
running.  I carried on back up the road and back up the slope. I turned to run along the side of the
creek. A small bird flew in front of me into the hedge. The seagulls were swimming in the creek and a family were just unloading kayaks from their car. I ran back to where I had parked my car and stopped my watch. I pressed reset straight away.
  I don't know how far I ran. I don't know how long I took. I'm not interested. Today I ran and saw more than my feet and the floor in front of me. Today I heard more than just my breathing. Today I took notice of where I was and what was around me and I appreciated it all. Today I was alive. Today I lived as I ran. Today I had fun and enjoyed myself. Today I realised what I had been missing. Yes statistics and fast times are still important but so is running with no other purpose than enjoying being out there .

The Confident Dormouse

        Are you shy? I mean really shy, so much so that it stops you in your tracks? I am. Now some people will read that statement and laugh. They know me and I've never seemed shy. They haven't seen me rolled in a ball, hiding under the dining room table with all the chairs pulled in so nobody can get me. They've not been there when I've locked the toilet cubicle, put the toilet seat down and curled up into the smallest ball possible. They've not been the person who has had to ask the price for me in the shop so I can buy a present.  They've not seen me when my heart beats faster, my eyes widen, my feet start tapping and I search for somewhere to curl up. They weren't on the university field trip with me when I considered walking into the sea and keep walking to avoid giving a presentation.
  I bet they've seen the barriers but not realised what was happening. Were you at scout camp with me the night everybody came to sit in the mess tent? Did you notice the table to my right, the washing bucket in front of me, the utensils box to my left and the tent wall behind me. Did you see me put my jacket on and sink into it as I looked across to the chef for reassurance? Every single person there was my friend but on mass and in my area I was unsure.
 If you come to one of my Ann Summers parties you will see I will always sit on the floor so I can be small. My rail will be behind me, suitcase to the side and paperwork forming the rest of the wall to keep my fortress intact. I will stand up for the presentation and I will move a wall to take orders but the magic circle is there to keep you out.
 Maybe you were on the infant P.T.A with me and I arrived at the meeting with you. The doors to the staffroom are solid and I am petrified of opening them. I always arrived at meetings with somebody. At the junior school I have volunteered for 6 years in a classroom. At break I take shelter in the office because I can't enter the staffroom when it is full of teachers despite being friends with them all.
  As a child I was so shy I would hide behind my mum or my sisters or my friends. There was a fear of being asked a question and a fear of having to ask . I couldn't be the first in a room in case there was somebody in there. I couldn't travel in somebody else's car. The number of times I had to be tricked into being given a lift somewhere still stays with me. People offer me a lift now and I turn it down then pluck up the courage to ask them for a lift. I'm sure that's the reason I often go to get in the wrong car when being collected as I'm so pleased with myself for accepting a lift I forget to check who is driving!
 
 At senior school we were allowed to wear our own clothes. I would keep my coat on so I could sink into it. There was a math teacher who called me the dormouse. She said she could see me sliding under the table, sinking into my coat and pulling it round so only my eyes could be seen and the top of my head. I reminded her of the dormouse in the teapot. I wasn't sleeping though. I would always watch and listen. I do that now too. I sit and I listen and I remember what is said but nobody notices me. That's how I like it. Being asked a question fills me with absolute dread. The fear stifles my comprehension of what I was actually asked. Let me sit quietly and watch and listen. You learn so much from listening .
  How then does somebody like me become chair of several committees, sell personal products to strangers and join community groups? I blame Ann Summers. As an ambassador it is my job to empower women and increase their confidence but that works both ways. I became an organiser by mistake. My husband told them I was interested in joining and I was too scared to say no. I practised in front of a mirror and I learnt the catalogue cover to cover. As long as I believe I know more than anybody in the room I am in control.
  Then came the PTA meeting where somebody was needed to give a talk to new parents to encourage them to join as the chairman had resigned. I plucked up courage from somewhere and volunteered. The head teacher turned round and said I couldn't do it as I was an Ann Summers organiser and it wasn't appropriate. At that point I forgot my fear and decided that not only would I give the talk but I would become chair too. I've been chair ever since - first at the infants and then at the juniors.  I surprised myself but found I loved the role. I could chair meetings because it was reporting on what had happened and organising events. I still have trouble standing in front of all the parents and tend to leave thank you for coming speeches to proper staff members. I still arrive 30 minutes before everybody else for a school fair as I know lots of people will ask me questions and I need time to sit in the office and gather my courage. (The head teacher always brings me tea and we talk through what needs to be done. I think she thinks I'm stressing over the fair but I know that will all be fine!)
 Twitter has helped me too. I can hold conversations with people I never have to meet. I can be friends without making eye contact. Then when I do actually meet these people I'm not so scared because I already know them and they know me.
  I put on a smile, I put on confidence building underwear and I face my demons. Most days I survive. Some days I take longer to get out the car whilst I gather my control. Last month I even did 2 things that are almost unheard of - I was passenger in the front seat of a car (even if I did put my foot on an imaginary brake at one time!) and I went to a social party on my own and even stayed longer than an hour! These are milestones for me because I AM SHY but I am now a much more Confident Dormouse

GOSPORT GOLDEN MILE AND 5K RACE

With swimming done and a huge high achieved it was time to face my fears and return to running. I can think of no better race than Absolute Running's Gosport Golden races.
  My children always want to join in and with the Gosport Golden Junior mile there was the perfect chance for them to do that. It was with great excitement that we all woke up on that Sunday morning. I rushed to get dressed and get the kids up and to the start on time.
  We arrived with plenty of time and strolled along the promenade to the start of the race. The kids couldn't wait to have their numbers pinned on and their chips attached to their trainers. Then they looked towards the finish and realised a mile was further than they thought! It didn't matter though. I looked around and the place was buzzing with children of all ages getting ready to run. Their were dads in their club kits proudly pinning numbers to the future stars. There were mums getting ready to run along side their tiny tots. There were children in club kit, school teams and things their parents had got out the cupboard in the hope it would look sporty (my kids!!!) This really was a race for all.

  I left the children at the start and walked off to the finish. Just walking made the backs of my legs ache but I was determined to start the 5k. I went by kids rushing to the start and waved as Nick cycled by. It dawned on me that the fast kids would rush by if I didn't get a shift on but I decided not to rush. Luckily the race started a little late and I was at the finish before any child.
  It was lovely to see so many people waiting at the finish and cheering the kids on. The true athletes came rushing passed and then the fun runners began to arrive. It was a while before mine appeared but that didn't matter. They had entered and run and were delighted with their medals.

 The next race was the adult Golden Mile. Again there was a mixture of competitive runners, would be runners and those in it for the fun of it. I saw so many people that I knew running and so many people that I knew marshaling. When I entered last year I knew my sister and a few people by sight but not by name. So much changes in a year and so many of those friends I have now made were due to Nick at Absolute Running. The community that he has created through the shop and the events organised like the Golden Mile and the weekly swim nights are so important to so many people. I hope he realises just what a difference he has made to so many people.

  The last race of the day was the 5k. By now I had met up with a friend who had won race entry at the school auction. We went to the start line together but at the back. (I know my place!)  I class myself as a runner in it for the fun rather than as a competitive race however I have yet to discover the fun of running. Off we went . Within a few strides of the start I discovered a major error on my part. The elastic in my trousers was not up to the job in hand. With every step my trousers fell further down. It was at that point I discovered a mum from school was behind me and laughing at my panic that I was going to have to run the whole race holding on to my trousers.
  I kept going, hoicking my trousers up every few strides. It was at this point I discovered another error. I grabbed my trousers  and yanked as hard as possible to pull them up but it wasn't my trousers. I was now wearing a thong far too high. Running with a wedgie is not pleasant. Displaying a bright red thong above trousers that were falling down was not the smartest move. I was just pleased I was at the back so only a few people saw the full moon at Stokes Bay that day. With t shirt rising up, trousers falling down and undies on display I soon found I had gone by 1k and had a comfortable pace going. The sweat stuck my trousers on and I kept going.
  I looked like a beetroot within seconds of starting the race and my overheating continued. My aim was just to reach the water station. How other people run without looking like they are a lobster in a pot I don't know. I guess when I swim the water takes the heat away but running doesn't do that. I was delighted to see a friendly face handing out water (Thank you Shona) I drank some and threw the rest in my face. The run then left the path and on to the pebbles of the beach. Last year I walked that bit but this year I kept going. Being cheered on by name is so encouraging (thank you Kim) . Round the fort and back to the water station. My willingness to continue was flagging at this point so I made the mistake of stopping for a drink.
  Getting restated wasn't so easy. I did though but my enthusiasm was going. I may have walked a little bit between 3 and 4 k (but only a little) Being cheered on by friends kept me going. Then the song popped in my head. 'Nothing is impossible. If your heart is really in it. It's a fight but you can win it. If you just trust your dreams' With the song in my head I kept going. I went by Nick and my children were there waiting for me. My daughter took my hand and we ran together. We went by Tom with his camera. I even went by the finish line. I t was lovely to hear Lee and Steph calling me on and seeing that medal in Steph's hand waiting for me. The steel band was still playing and the crowd was still there cheering
  More water and a goody bag. I had finished. I felt like you could fry an egg on my face but I had finished. It was at that point somebody told me I was flashing my knickers and I just hoped nobody had a photo!

  If you are new to running then make this one of your first races. The encouragement from spectators and marshals is great. The route is lovely. I know I am attracted to the beach and running along the bay is my sort of thing but it is a lovely flat course with an interesting pebble patch. 
  If you are an experienced runner put this event in your schedule. It's an event for everybody. If you are a competitive runner there is a race to be won. 

  Follow the Shoe!

 ETON DORNEY 10K SWIM 2014

 



 On Sunday 18th May I took part in Fareham triathlon. I swam OK, had a brilliant (for me) cycle but walked the run. I crossed the line on my own and n last place but was 10 minutes faster than the   previous year and delighted. However the next day somebody said something to me that made me      feel that I had let myself down . This was a very odd feeling as I'm one of those people who just         believes that if you put your mind to it you can do anything. I hadn't done any training for the             triathlon - I just did it.               

  With that in mind I had to prepare for a 10k swim, again with no training. My mind was full of doubt. Could I swim the distance? Would I make the cut off time? Would I let myself down? My stubborn pig-headedness cut in and by hook or by crook I was going to swim this event.

  Preparation the night before wasn't the best! I went for a little sea swim which lasted longer than intended so my early night went out the window. I couldn't sleep and looked at my phone at 3am. There was a message from my husband to say there was no record of mot on my car. In a panic I got up and searched for the mot certificate. It had run out Sunday. Luckily I had his car outside so after a search for keys I was outside in my pjs at 3.30am testing if the car worked!

 Back to bed I went and waited for the 5am alarm. I got up and had my porridge and promptly chipped a tooth. First thought - I've now got something to do on the swim as I can play with the hole with my tongue. I woke 2 kids up and piled them in the car, searched for an open petrol station and made my way to Eton Dorney.

  To my utter joy I arrived and found 2 friends in the car park. It was fantastic to see familiar faces and meant I didn't have to go through the panic of registration on my own. I'm not sure if Caz and Sarah were as nervous as me. They weren't singing 'Totally unprepared am I to face the Lake and swim. Timid and shy and scared am I for what the water brings' Off we went together, reluctant kids in tow, to the registration tent. Jokingly I had packed my passport in case I got really lost so was pleasantly pleased when I was asked for ID at registration and pulled out said passport. (The fact it had run out about 10 years ago didn't seem to matter!) Swimmer number 78. My number was written on my hand, a yellow wristband attached to my arm and a brown envelope with my hat and timing chip handed over. There was no going back now.

  The 3 of us left the tent and wandered off to take a look at the start. That's when we bumped into the Bayside Tri gang and cheer team. We waited for them to register (having asked if they had passports) and together the swimming group went off to place goodies at the feeding station. Here my lack of organisation became clear. They had boxes with Bayside Tri written on and looked professional. I had an ASDA bag with an ASDA sports drink and a couple of ASDA fudge pieces. At the station they put their boxes down and I put my plastic bag next to them.

 By now my nervous singing was getting annoying and I asked if we could get changed. Off to the tent we went and I started the fight to get my wet wetsuit on. I smothered myself in Body glide and headed off to check my bag in. Nerves were taking hold and doubt was creeping in. In an odd way the fact that Sadie was late and I was worrying about her making the start took my mind off my race nerves. We headed to the holding pen. Fast swimmers had to go in the first pen so that's where Addy went. Caz and I decided the back of the second pen was the best place for us so we could avoid the crowd. Somehow we moved to the middle of that pen. Anna, Erika, Sarah, Caz and I posed for photos for the support team and Sadie rushed to join us.

  Before we knew it the race was starting. I remember saying to Caz, 'Let's not get caught up in this. Don't go out fast. Lets just finish'. Off we went. I followed Caz into the water. First thought - it's not too cold. Second thought - it doesn't taste nice. I much prefer salty water. (This made me giggle in a dirty minded way) Third thought - I can actually see my hands and things in the water. Fourth thought - bugger I've been caught up in this and gone out fast. Fifth thought - where are my friends? Sixth thought - I'm on my own so just swim.

  After that I don't remember thinking anything particular. I was still singing that stupid song but enjoying the swim. I noticed a board at the side that said 1500m. I couldn't work out why it was there as first lap was 1.25km. Didn't take too long to realise it was a race marker for the rowing lake. Later I noticed 1250m and 1000m. (On the start of second circuit I found the 1750m marker too) These were nice to see as I could tell how far I was through the race. It was nice watching the distance drop as I knew it was getting me closer to the finish.

  Another really nice point came when the first of the skin swimmers ran me over. They all had orange hats. My friend Tom is a skins swimmer and wears an orange hat. I took it as a sign that my friends were with me. Being overtaken by a heard of Tom Barnetts made me giggle. I reached the huge Human Race buoy and swam under the bridge. It was at this point I noticed I was swimming with a friend. Sarah was by my side. I'm a social group swimmer normally and like to check on everybody as I swim. To have Sarah there meant I could do my usual thing of swimming with an eye on a friend.

      That second length seemed to go faster than the first. Before I knew it I was at the second feed station where my drink was placed. I could see Erika and Anna having a drink. Slight quandary - do I stop and drink or continue with Sarah.I stopped. I'm glad I did. The kids were there with Tim, Sharon and Amy and they were all cheering us on. I've never stopped for a drink when swimming before. It was an experience. For a second I thought I was going to drown - not because of the lake but because I squeezed the bottle and raspberry drink flooded down my throat. Erika and Anna were off again so I went with them. I knew they had trained and were probably pacing themselves well. They actually had a time in mind whereas I just wanted to finish. We set off with the 3 of us side by side. We went under the bridge and round the buoy to start the second lap. By now the lake was getting crowded again. Blue hat swimmers from the 5k race were determined that nothing was going to get in the way. I got hit and stopped to let them go by. I watched Erika and Anna swim off in the sea of blue hats.

  I was on my own again so just watched the rowing markers count down the length. The turning buoy was a short distance past the 1000m marker. I went under the bridge and past the first of the 2 feeding stations. There I was delighted to see Sarah having a drink. She set off and I tried to swim with her but lost her in amongst other green hats. I knew where she was by the man with the stripey umbrella walking and cheering her on.  I now knew Erika, Anna and Sarah were in front of me somewhere and I hoped to see them at the next feed stop.

   I pulled in at the feeding station and had a chat with Amy and Sharon. They asked where Erika and Anna were. I hadn't a clue. I had seen them swim off at speed and thought they were in front. I carefully had a drink and ate a piece of fudge before swimming off. Under the bridge, round the buoy and into lap 3. Thoughts started in my head. This was uncharted territory. I'd only ever swum 5k before. That was OK. I had a talk with myself. I had swum 5k twice before and that made 10k so I could obviously do this. The fact my 2 5k swims were about 4 weeks apart wasn't an issue. I just had 5k to do.  Here came those marker points again . Here came the singing again. I was singing 'There's one more angel in heaven' from Joseph. This had perfect rhythm for longer breathe holding and made the swim comfortable. I decided to sing the whole soundtrack from the start of the show but discovered I'd forgotten too many words. Go go Joseph was a good one for speeding up though!

  As I rounded the corner to go under the bridge I decided to do breast stroke. That's when it happened. I got cramp in one leg. OK, I thought how do you cure cramp. Blank. I've never had cramp before swimming. I decided to kick it out. I switched back to front crawl and the other leg went. Now, I THOUGHT THAT I DIDN'T USE MY LEGS WHEN SWIMMING CRAWL. I THOUGHT THEY JUST TRAILED BEHIND.AT THAT PRECISE MOMENT I REALISED JUST HOW IMPORTANT MY LEGS WERE.  They just sank. I tried to power on with just arms but I was going nowhere and sinking. I tried kicking but my legs didn't like it. I kicked enough to stay afloat and move forward. I could see the feed station. I could see Sarah! I kicked my legs. They worked! Dilemma do I drink or keep going? I kept going. My legs were working so it would have been silly to stop. Next thought -I've got a 5k run next week and my legs have cramp now and running is my nemesis. OOH nemesis. I KNOW A SONG ABOUT THAT! Perry the Platypus has a lot to answer as the swim to the next feeding station was filled with 'My Neme neme ooh my neme nemesis, my neme neme ooh my nemenemesis.'

  Feed station 3 and again met with cheers and horns. The Bayside pom poms and horns are such a sight to behold especially after 7.5k swimming. More fudge and drink. I think Sarah was there too. I remember talking to a swimmer and an official asking if we were going. I finished my fudge and said the next stop was the finish. Off we went and off Sarah shot (Yes I remember now, it was her.) Under the bridge. Round the buoy. Here come the markers. Reached the buoy, under the bridge, stick tongue out at photographer, keep going, past feed station (no Sarah), just keep swimming, just keep swimming. Go away cramp I don't like you. Keep working legs. Ooh Robbie Williams singing swing song to me.. Ooh 'Dream a little dream for me' has a good swim beat and breathing pattern. Goodbye swans. Goodbye gap where you can see other lake. Keep swimming. Keep singing. Nobody at the feed station. Keep swimming. I hear horn. I hear cheers. Under bridge. Wave at kids on bridge first. Can I overtake this man. Sing faster, swim faster. Give up and let the man have his moment. Approach black finish marker. Made it.

  Now came the hardest part of the race. Get out. Dear legs why do you no longer work. Nice man takes my elbow and helps me up. He lets go I fall over. He helps me up. Cross the line he shouts. He lets go. I fall over. He helps me up, pulls me up slope, lets go. Splat. Lady comes over, 'CROSS THE LINE' she shouts. She escorts me over line, removes my ankle timer and props me up against the fence with a hand on my elbow. Supporters are all there and I wonder how many photos of me on the floor there are (none so far!) A huge smile on my face and a foil blanket placed over my shoulders. Pigeon steps to the medal table as my legs still weren't working and a wobbly walk to find my clothes.

  Off to the changing tent and start to get changed. A text came through  CONGRATULATIONS PENELOPE on completing the swim in a time of 3:44:31 . Gobsmacked. I was expecting over 4 hours. I was worried I would be stopped before final lap! Just after that Anna walked in shivering badly. 'Why didn't you get changed straight away? ' I asked. Then Erika walked in  'ANNA! You look dreadful' she says. (What else are friends for!) THEY START TO CONGRATULATE ME. I'm still looking confused as to why they hadn't got changed. Then the penny dropped! They were behind me. I still can't work out when I went by them. I would have bet everything I owned that they were in front of me. The position of any of us didn't matter. It was finishing that was important but that was the part of the day that still confuses me. I'm sure I saw them ahead of me on that final lap.

  Dressed and with sweet tea drunk it was off to watch Sadie finish. I secretly wanted her to fall flat on her face getting out too but she didn't. However when she came to talk to us it looked like she had! Anna had a puffy face but Sadie took the prize! I believe next time she won't wear her goggles so tight.

  Excitement then as we could see Caz coming down the last length. She had a safety boat with her and we were ready to form a lynch mob if they tried to stop her. Legs now working I 'ran' to the bridge to cheer her on. Then back to the finish to watch her cross that line. I was so proud to see my friend being wrapped in blankets and be congratulated in style. Bayside tri were there to cheer and hug . What an amazing experience.

 

                                                   



The Start of My Fundraising Year

It was back in 2010 that I decided on my first fundraising event in memory of my mum. My friend, Jane, had wanted to do a charity trek but was being a big girlie wimp about it and wanted a trek where they spoke English, had nice food, proper toilets and no tents. I didn't actually think this was possible but after scouring the internet I found a charity trek for Breakthrough Breast Cancer along the Gower peninsula.
  We signed up and off we went. Breakthrough were very supportive and I decided that they would be a charity that I would continue to support. The organisation of the trek was fantastic. This was where I first met Gideon of Walkwise UK. They were responsible for sorting hotel, transport and the walk and I couldn't fault that. The weather was beautiful( an added bonus) and the walk enjoyable.
 Walking for a distance gives you time to think and before we had gone too far I had decided that I would really like to do something similar in Dorset where my mum had liked to go on holiday. I had a conversation with Gideon about the possibility of organising a walk in memory of mum in that area and he said it would be possible. Our Gower trek continued and plans were put to the back of my mind.
  The next year my sister announced she wanted to swim across the Solent for fun so she and I entered a sea swim with MACMILLAN CANCER  to see what we felt about that. I now had another idea for a charity event!
  Slowly I decided that I needed a year of fundraising madness in memory of my mum and as October 2013 marked the 20th anniversary of mum's death that seemed the perfect year to carry it out. I knew exactly which charities too. Breakthrough Breast Cancer had allowed me to run for them in Great South Run and had been very supportive so they were my first choice. Mum had had breast cancer and had survived that. Unfortunately she later developed lung cancer and died at the Royal Marsden. She had been given some equipment that allowed her to come home and I decided that the Marsden would be my next charity so I could help fund equipment to let others come home. Finally I chose Cancer Research. There are so many different types of cancer and so many families touched by the disease this seemed an appropriate charity.
  I guess I am a person easily led. I hate running and always swore I would never run. Then my friend, Baz, ran the London marathon. I told them they were mad and would never catch me entering. That put the idea in my head and twice so far I've entered the ballot for a place. The London marathon was then added to my list of events for the year. If I don't get a ballot place I'm hoping Breakthrough will give me a charity place.
   I also said I would never abseil. I hate heights, although mum had no fear. When I say I hate heights I mean I HATE heights. My friend Trish then did an abseil. I continued to say I would NEVER do an abseil but another friend announced they were going to abseil down the Spinnaker Tower. Next thing I know I'm telling everybody that is another event I'm doing.
  At this point I thought I had enough but then a friend asked me to enter the Grim challenge. Of course I said no and that I would never do that. Next thing I know I've gathered a team of about 9 to doThe Grim with me.
  Please don't suggest anything else!!!!!

   Once events were chosen organisation began. My open event is my Dorset Trek. I contacted Gideon and told him the date and area I wanted and he very kindly put together a package. The event takes place 4th to 6th October 2013 and costs £179 per person based on sharing a twin room. At the time of writing I have 13 people attending but there is still room for more. The cost includes 2 nights at a hotel, food, transport from hotel to the start of day 1 and transport back to the hotel and 2 days walking with guide.
 If you are interested in joining me please let me know. I have set up fundraising pages for each charity for the walking team. If you can't join us please sponsor us

http://uk.virginmoneygiving.com/fundraiser-web/fundraiser/showFundraiserPage.action?userUrl=pennysdorsetdawdlers&pageUrl=4&isTeam=true

http://uk.virginmoneygiving.com/fundraiser-web/fundraiser/showFundraiserPage.action?userUrl=pennyswalkers&pageUrl=2&isTeam=true

http://uk.virginmoneygiving.com/fundraiser-web/fundraiser/showFundraiserPage.action?userUrl=dorsetdawdlers2&pageUrl=3&isTeam=true

here we go again

I'm going to spend a year fundraising for Breakthrough Breast Cancer, Cancer Research and the Royal Marsden to mark 20 years since my mum died. My first event will be a walk in Dorset organised by Walkwise UK and will take place 4th - 6th October 2013

penny nash is fundraising for Macmillan Cancer Support

penny nash is fundraising for Macmillan Cancer Support

Pussy and Rabbit Dot Com

I have been an Ann Summers organiser since July 1994 and have seen so much change over those years. I remember itchy lace and tacky animal print lingerie. My best seller was a lace body called Faye, later to be taken over by a velour body called Zoe. The underwear has come a long way since then. Our corsets are lovely and my best seller is now a 'boob job in a bra' range that enhances the assets of those that wear it.
The biggest change, however, comes in our vibrators. My basic kit included black prince, foreskin and adonis. They were basically willy shaped with a nob at the bottom to twist to increase the speed. They served their purpose and at the time were great toys. Designs remained pretty similar until the introduction of the rabbit.
The first rabbit contained pearl balls that rotated and rabbit ears that left girls squealing. It had a battery pack attached by a wire and was purple in colour. It was the start of the rabbit revolution. In typical rabbit fashion the rabbit family grew. A whole new generation of rampant rabbits appeared in the catalogue. Over the years I remember original rabbit, platinum, platinum +, deluxe, thruster, thruster deluxe, 3 way, gpulse, g pulse remote, aqua, petite and the big O. Rabbits don't just rotate and vibrate , they do all sorts of different things.
Now rabbit World has improved and developed over time and has reached a whole new level. The rabbit that all girls will want is now amongst us. It even has it's own mini website http://pussyandrabbit.com

As an organiser this is the rabbit that makes me smile when I show it at parties. It is the Ann Summers Rampant Rabbit Touch.It's sleek to touch and comes in varying shades of pink. The rabbits ears have 7 settings from plain vibrate to pulsate to va va voom. It's the shaft on this rabbit that holds the secret magic. It is called touch as it is touch sensitive. The more you squeeze the more it will please! Pressure sensors within the bands of colour respond to your touch and offer different vibration. It's a hands free product as far as the shaft is concerned. I think that makes it a gadget so your partner will approve. (We also do a touch cock ring if he thinks he is being left out!)
I believe for a limited period Ann Summers are offering 20% discount on Rampant rabbit touch via http://pussyandrabbit.com/ so get yourselves over there and take a look. Of course if you know me personally or live near Fareham in Hampshire I am more than happy to offer you the same discount and as long as you are female and over 18 I am happy to do an Ann Summers party for you. Just message @pennynash on twitter or leave me a comment. Just take my word that this is one rabbit you will want to get your hands (and other areas) on.

Whoops I appear to have done it again!

Somebody needs to help me engage my brain at times!For months my friend, Natalie Evans, has been raising money for her marathon run in aid of clic sargent. During those months I have thought to myself that she was completely stupid and very brave. There was no way on earth I would ever do anything like that.
Then I heard that my friend on twitter, @radeeboi was also running the London marathon for the same charity. Again I thought he was a bloody idiot. In fact I thought anybody who wanted to run in a marathon needed their head examined. I could think of nothing worse than running anywhere. I am not built for running. I carry a spare tyre around my middle and have airbags in front that would give me black eyes if Ieven thought about running.
To support my friends I attended Natalie's charity zumba class and on my birthday sponsored @radeeboi. I still thought they were both silly, especially with the injuries Natalie carried. The London marathon took place on 17th April. I watched a little bit on the tv and sort of looked down my nose at the pathetic people attempting to run .
I showed no interest in running the marathon or even really watching it. I did however follow the twitter support for @radeeboi as he made his way around the course. This was my downfall. In the evening I was reading the twitter stream. In a split second the thought that it might be quite good fun to take part in the marathon rushed across my mind. If I hadn't been on twitter this wouldn't have been a problem but instead of the message going across my brain to the logic centre it went straight to my tweeting finger and appeared in the twitterverse.
Before I knew it the message that I wanted to take part in the marathon was out there and as usual twitter was encouraging me to do something stupid. I was told the date to sign up and encouraged to do so. I was told it was a ballot and I might not get in so it wouldn't hurt to register. Twitter had taken me down this route before and that's how I ended up stood on the 4th Plinth in Trafalgar Square.
Today was the ballot day for the marathon. I could have come to my senses in the week since the marathon but I didn't. I now have to wait until October to find out if I have a place. If I do I will be raising money for cancer research. In the meantime I thought it best to start doing some running. I have signed up for The Race for Life and if you want to sponsor this lunatic and help those suffering from cancer then you can do here http://www.raceforlifesponsorme.org/penelopenash1604?utm_source=facebook&utm_medium=newsfeed&utm_campaign=editpage

The Circus

I did it. I joined the circus and it was just as amazing as I thought it would be! It's taken me a while to write this blog but that wasn't because the circus experience wasn't brilliant but because I had other things going on. A huge huge thank you to all at Circus Space for making my dream come true.
My circus day was fantastic. I set off from home nice and early, drove to Worcester Park, caught a train and changed to a tube. I thought I had planned my journey perfectly but had forgotten the Northern line split and the branch I needed wasn't at this station. A slight panic and a rethink of journey and I was soon on my way. I had directions from the tube station and it was only a short walk to Circus Space.
My heart was in my mouth when I walked into the building but the reception desk was full of smiling faces. I filled in the form I was given and looked around to see who else was on my course. The place was full of people so it was difficult to tell. I had been given instructions on lockers and where to wait but the panic started again. Luckily 2 women arrived who were also on my course. I tried to strike up a conversation but they were clearly there together and didn't need an extra person. I sort of stalked them to the lockers and the waiting area. As long as they were in sight I wouldn't get lost!

It wasn't long before our trainer came to collect us and take us to the first room. There was a trampoline and bits and pieces in the room but our first thing was to warm up. I looked around the room and found most people were there with somebody, were younger than me and all were carrying less weight. I thought this would make me feel awkward but it didn't.
The first part of circus training was the warm up. We needed to warm up body and mind which sounded very energetic and proved to be just that. We were soon running around the room jumping in the air when told to go down and squatting when told to go up. I thought it was going to show just how much older and unfit I was but I held my own.

Now the first skill for the day was the static trapeze. At last I had the chance to live my childhood dream. OK it wasn't the flying trapeze but it was a trapeze. We went off to another room and lined up. There were 2 trapezes,one higher than the other and another lovely instructor started to tell us what we were going to do. It was advised that we used the low trapeze over the crash mat so that she could help. She showed us how to throw our legs up to get on in the first place and I could see my first hurdle!
I was someway down the queue so had time to watch others. The men in the group decided to use the higher trapeze as did the 2 women who had arrived at the same time as me. I knew I would never manage that. I wasn't sure I would manage the low one! Luckily another girl was before me and chose the low trapeze. She failed to get on it first time and I was secretly pleased. On my turn it took 2 attempts to pull myself up. The instructor was very good and gave advice without patronising the fat old bird. In fact fat old bird thoughts did go through my mind. There was the panic I wouldn't be strong enough to pull myself up, that I would fart as I swung my legs or worse have a tenna lady moment! None of these things happened!
The first position was the gazelle. I know I didn't look like a young gazelle but I sat on the trapeze, pointed my legs in one direction and my arm in the other and felt the part. The second time we had to hang by our legs from the trapeze and at that moment I was living the dream. The third time we had to stand on the trapeze and then hang down. I can not explain just how happy and exhilarated I felt. I know I didn't look like the picture in my head but I had fun. I didn't care about my size or my age or the fact I was on my own as I was that circus performer I had dreamed of being.

The static trapeze was over all too soon and we returned to the first room. Diabolo training came next. I had played with a diabolo before but other than getting it spinning I hadn't managed any tricks. We were shown several different things from throwing and catching it to skipping whilst it was in the air. Others were much better than me but I did succeed in throwing and catching so was really pleased.

A short break came next and that's when I noticed being on my own. Everybody scattered and I was a little lost. We all came back for unicycle training. I have a great respect for those who can unicycle. I have my own but have never managed. I still can't unicycle. I don't think any of us managed . We did work in small groups of similar height for this and so I did pair up with 2 girls. They were half my age, half my dress size and half my weight but we had a laugh and worked together.

The final discipline of the morning was stilt walking. I had never really thought about this before but soon discovered it was to be one of the scariest things I have ever done. To start we had to get into pairs so I was with the lovely young Claire. I let her go first on the stilts. Before we could put stilts on we had to practice falling on to a crash mat. Then she had to sit on what appeared to be an old gym horse whilst I helped strap the stilts on her. Once on she had to hold my hands and stand up without leaning forward or putting feet back, walk to the mat and fall over. Once fallen it was a crawl back to the box to get back up and start walking around the room with your partner for support. It looked fun but that was a little misleading!
Soon it was my turn. My first problem came in trying to stand up! I couldn't even get up off the box properly. The lovely instructor explained what to do and I was soon on my feet, only to go to the crash mat to fall over. I crawled back to the box and struggled back up. Claire was fantastic at helping and saying encouraging things and I began to walk around the room. I hadn't thought about how high I was until then or how scared of heights. The fear clearly showed on my face. Then came a slight trip and the biggest shock of the day. I tripped and yelled out "Mummy". I gave an embarrassed giggle, apologised and carried on walking. Another slight trip and another yell of mummy left me almost in tears. The third time I looked at Claire and explained my mum had been dead for 16 years so calling for her was a little bit unnerving! I was so scared I couldn't stop myself calling out. The trainer suggested I had a rest as it was hard work but I knew if I sat down I wouldn't get back up off the box so kept going. I wouldn't say I enjoyed it but I enjoyed the challenge and overcame my fear.

Lunch was next and again everybody scattered. I went to the cafe across the road and had a pot of tea. After lunch some new people joined us and some others left as they had only booked a half day course. The afternoon started with the horrible warm up which those of us from the morning halfheartedly joined in.

The first discipline of the afternoon was the tight wire. First we had to change in to ballet shoes and line up. I was paired with a new lady and we took it in turns to hold the supporting stick and walk on the wire. I didn't think I would enjoy this but really did. I wasn't very good which was the general theme for the day but I had such fun that my ability didn't matter.

After the tight wire came the thing I had been waiting for all these years. I stood there thinking of somersaults and cheers and then watching and wondering how on earth I was going to even get up the ladder! Heights and I have never gone well together. To start I had to climb the straight up ladder. By the time I reached the top I had the shivers and my nervous noise had started. I stepped on to the platform and wrapped my leg round as instructed. I reached out and supported the trapeze for the person in front of me. All that was holding me on was my leg! Then I had to unhook and stand in the middle of the platform whilst the harness was attached. Minor problems knowing left from right caused a slight delay! It was my turn to go. I had listened to the instructions so knew I had to lead with my feet but I couldn't work out how to do that so just leant forward and went. After all those years I was flying. Actually it felt more like falling! I had listened to how to swing my legs and not bend them but all that went out the window. I knew I had to let go when told to so I would be in the right place but my hands started slipping. I told the trainer I was losing grip so she said to let go on the count of three. 1, 2, 3, LET GO! No! I couldn't let go. I was slipping but I couldn't let go as that was just as scary. On the second count down I let go and landed in a crumpled blob on the mat. It wasn't how I had pictured it at all. I was slightly cross with myself and determined to get it right the next turn. Well my next turn I did lead with my feet but still got the swing rhythm wrong and still couldn't let go. My dismount was even more of a crash than the first but I loved every second.

I was on such a high from the trapeze that the fact I couldn't juggle didn't bother me at all. I can remember very little of the juggling section as I was still on that trapeze in my head!

The last part of the day was the team balancing. Again I was partnered with the 2 young girls from unicycling. I enjoyed being on the bottom of the pyramid and the balancing bits but became acutely aware of my size when I had to stand on the other 2. I was very pleased when it came to the large human pyramid that I was on the second level and not on the top.

The day came to an end and we all went our separate ways. I made my way back to the tube and the train and finally the car. The next morning I was covered in bruises and ached all over. The day after that the swelling round my ankles and my knees where the stilts had been strapped made it almost impossible to walk. You could see the strap marks in my bruises. I didn't care though. In fact I showed my bruises off with pride and couldn't wait to tell people why I couldn't walk.

If you ever get the chance to visit Circus Space you should definitely do it. If I lived nearer I would have joined the aerial classes. I will go again but next time I will take friends with me so that we can share the stories together. I practice tight wire at the beach on the breakwaters and I swing from the tree outside. My favourite though was the static trapeze and if I can find a way of practicing that I will!

Joining the Circus

When I was in junior school we were always asked to write what we wanted to be when we grew up. For a couple of years I wrote that I wanted to be a trapeze artiste. I'm sure Burt Lancaster had a lot to do with it as my mum used to love watching films with him in. Trapeze and the Crimson Pirate were both much loved films!
I remember always dreaming of being in the circus. I had a gold leotard that sparkled and wore gold tights. I would climb up a rope to the trapeze platform and the safety net would drop. I would start to swing and then fly through the air to be caught by my ankles by a man on another trapeze. He would swing me back so I would catch mine and continue the routine. I would finish by doing a triple somersault in the air and catching the trapeze before returning to the platform. The crowd would clap and cheer.
That was my childhood dream. It was shattered with the realisation that I was petrified of heights.I then decided I would be a zoo keeper or a marine biologist. I applied for a job at London zoo after doing A levels but was told I was over qualified so I did a degree in marine biology so I could have at least one dream come true.
I couldn't get the circus out of my system though. I met Jonathan the Jester at our local village fair and found myself booking him for circus workshops at school. It wasn't so the kids could learn circus skills but so I could. What fun I had watching and joining in. Every event I found Jonathan at I would gather up children to take part just so I could have a go.
For years I put a unicycle on my Christmas list but never got one. Then one day my husband saw one in the local bicycle shop. I rushed down to buy it. I've tried to master it but just end up splattered on the floor or covered in bruises where the pedals hit. One day I will unicycle up the street without the aid of a wall or garden hedge to support myself.

When I turned 40 I decided I had grown up. A madness hit me and I decided it was time to live my dream and learn the trapeze. I looked online and found I could do a circus workshop with flying trapeze. In my excitement I decided to practice on my daughter's four poster bed. The bending of the bar and creaking of the bed struts put a sudden stop to that! Instead I asked my sisters if the workshop could be my birthday present. They agreed and all I had to do was pick a date.
Life took over and got in the way and a year went by with the circus being at the back of my mind. Then a couple of weeks ago I visited the circus website. To my delight they had added unicycling to the list of skills taught and I also noticed they were on twitter as @circusspace It was the boost I needed. I chose the date, told my sisters and told Circus space.

I am now booked on to a circus skills course in October. I will learn how to ride my unicycle but more importantly I will be able to fly on the trapeze. I'm not stupid. I know 40, fat and frumpy is never going to look good in a gold leotard and I know in the short time I am there there will be no triple somersaults and being caught by the ankles. It doesn't matter. I will be able to say I have been on the flying trapeze. I can tick that box. All that will be left will be the zoo keeper dream!

I am really looking forward to joining the circus. I don't care that I'm scared of heights. I don't care that I'm not the most graceful person ever. I don't care that I fall over standing still and have no sense of balance. I'm joining the circus!

Do you know what scares me most? The thing I am worrying about most is entering the building! I can already feel the panic at having to go somewhere new and not know where I'm going. I'm scared about having to knock at the door. It's very silly but it fills me with dread. I'm glad I have started talking to Circus space on twitter as I won't worry about not knowing them but the thought of having to find my way in is giving me butterflies!

It's a fear I will overcome just so I can fly on that trapeze!

Embarrassing Moments

Well I'm about to drop myself in it again! Today @mediocre_mum suggested I took a look at a post by Urbanvox and add my embarrassing moment.

Well I have so many to choose from it's difficult. Most people, thanks to @beachhut81 know about the Easter that I went to church with my skirt on inside out. My delightful son waited until it was all quiet and then asked me, very loudly if I knew. I spent the rest of the service trying to pull my top over the label at the back trying to disguise the fact.

Then of course there was the time I was breast feeding my first child. I was in my own home and the only person there was my mother in law. Normally I would leave the room and go discreetly feed my child but my mother in law said not to worry. As I released myself from my top my boob took on a mind of it's own and squirted milk across the room and over my mother in law. Now that was embarrassing.

It was more embarrassing as it had happened a few months after another incident that my mother in law was present at. I was pregnant at the time and out shopping with my mother in law. We were returning to the car park laden with shopping. The car was parked on the roof so we went up by lift. As I stepped out the lift there was a ping and within seconds my knickers were around my ankles. Now as I was pregnant it wasn't exactly easy to see what had happened but I knew by the sudden lack of ability to walk that something was wrong. My mother in law looked and almost wet herself laughing. I took a step forward , gave a flick of my foot and watched my knickers fly threw the air. They landed neatly on my shopping and I then ran to the car.

This story may have stayed between you me and the gate post or at least my mother in law and myself but she found it so funny that she told everybody when we got home.

There, that's 3 cringe worthy moments in a lifetime full of minor mishaps. I hope it has amused you slightly.

Bad Parenting Club

I have been asked by @mediocre_mum to join the bad parenting club She has written about some incidents and thought I might have a few to share! I am not a bad parent. I am just a little absent minded and a little accident prone!
It wasn't my fault that a few weeks ago I was crossing a busy road and dropped my youngest off the back of my bicycle in the middle of the road. I didn't mean to shut my middle child's hand in the car door either a few years ago. These things just happen!
I guess the first 'bad parenting' moment was when I forgot I had a child! I took my new baby to the shop round the corner with me. She was fast asleep in the pushchair but the pushchair didn't fit easily up the narrow aisles of the shop as they had had a delivery. The very nice lady at the check out suggested I leave the pushchair there whilst I got my shopping. I parked the pushchair and darted round the shop with my basket.
It was when I started walking home with bags of shopping I thought to myself it would be easier to hang the bags on the pushchair. Pushchair! Whoops. That would be the pushchair with my baby still parked by the check out in the shop! Lady at the counter was laughing when I walked back in. I had never been out of sight of the shop and she had been ready to call me back. She was just seeing when I would remember!!!
The second time I 'lost' a child was with my third. I was again a new mum and my husband was away. I had 3 children to deal with and was really tired. My son was asleep so I sat on sofa and fell asleep. When I woke up I went to check on the baby but he wasn't in the pushchair where I thought I had left him. I checked upstairs in the Moses basket but he wasn't there either. In a panic I searched the house for anywhere I may have left a baby!
He was nowhere in sight. I checked my doors and windows but they were all locked. I had done the school run and I had definitely bought him home! How on earth can you misplace a baby in your sleep. I was just on the point of calling a neighbour to help me when I heard a noise. The baby was definitely in the house! The noise was coming from the pushchair, the first place I had looked.
It turned out I had put the small child in the pushchair but not strapped him in. He was too small to move but he had slid down inside the cosy toes! I found the baby 'stood up' at the bottom of the cosy toes.Such a relief. ( You would have thought after that I would always strap children in but there have been several incidents of pushchair ejector seats going down kerbs!!!!)
There has only been 1 hospital trip caused by my 'bad parenting and 1 caused by my husband! The one by my husband was partially my fault. I caused the smoke detector to go off and my husband stepped backwards to blow at it. At the same time my toddling first child went to join in the smoke detector game. There was a collision and husband trod on child's leg. She lay there screaming unable to stand up. Off to hospital we went where small child saw a box of toys and ran across the room to them. A miraculous recovery!
My incident was with my son. I was a Pampered chef consultant at the time and had a huge crate containing my kit. I kept this out of reach of the kids, on top of the fridge. One evening I went to get the box down and didn't see small child behind. I swung round and hit the child in the eye. Being a bad parent I rubbed it better and left. The next day his eye was completely swollen. I got an emergency appointment at Dr's where I confessed to hitting him with the box. The doctor sent us straight to eye casualty but told me it wasn't my fault. He did actually mean that as it turned out son had a very rare eye infection and it was caught just in time to save his sight!The box injury was just a coincidence!
I suppose I was a bad parent when my middle child fell off a chair trying to dust the ceiling. She said her arm hurt but I made her eat her dinner with a knife and fork. She kept moaning so I agreed that if my Ann Summers delivery was postponed I would take her to hospital. It was and I did. Turned out she had broken her arm! ( I don't count that as a hospital trip caused by bad parenting as the accident wasn't my fault but the neglect may have been!!!!)

There have been several accidents that I had nothing to do with. My oldest fell down the stairs carrying my baby son and ran out the house screaming she had killed the baby. My youngest child, s a tiny baby had a dining room chair dropped on her head. These weren't my fault but maybe if I had been paying more attention they wouldn't have happened!

Accidents and minor mishaps are part of parenting. I don't think my family have suffered for it and I don't think I'm really a bad parent!

Something Special for My Birthday

Today is my birthday and I have done something special. Before I tell you what I need to tell you about my friends CaptainTom3 and MrsTom3. They are a married couple that I follow on twitter.
A few months ago I discovered I had a new follower on twitter. She had only sent 1 tweet and only followed one other person, her husband. Intrigued as to why she had started following me I struck up conversations with @mrstom3 and @captaintom3. It turned out that their son was suffering renal failure and needed a kidney transplant. It was @mrstom3 who was going to give her kidney to her son. She had joined twitter for something to do whilst sat at hospital with her son and for when she had the operation herself for some light relief. My son had been ill in the past and in hospital so I knew how boring it could be just sitting around so I was only too happy to drum up some more twitter followers and get a special support group going.
I'm not sure they knew that twitter could offer a great support service but I think they have found that it does. Even Duncan Bannatyne has taken the trouble to tweet and show an interest in @mrstom3 and the roller coaster ride she is on.
The transplant took place on 9th March and we have all followed the progress being made. It truly is a roller coaster with good news followed by bad news followed by good news followed by bad. This week it was discovered that the glandular fever virus had been in the donated kidney and so more worry for the family.
Before meeting the Toms online I hadn't really given much thought to transplants. My family are healthy and so it never crossed my mind. I know that if any of my family were taken ill in this way and I could help by being a living donor I would. I know if they were really ill and needed an organ that I couldn't donate I would be frantic with worry and wish for an organ to become available.
That set me thinking and so today, as a birthday present, I did something I should have done a long time ago. I registered as an organ donor. I hope that I die peacefully in my sleep of old age but if something dreadful should happen to me then I hope that something good can come of it. I hope that a frantic family can be helped. I've put it off for years because I've never been pushed into thinking about it. Captaintom3 wrote a blog about it which put it back in my mind.

If you'd like to give me a present for my birthday then register as an organ donor here .If you are all ready on the list then why not make a donation to kidney research via @mrstom3 at her just giving site

The Bedtime Routine

It's no good. It doesn't matter how many times I tell people ,they still get the bedtime routine wrong!

THE HISTORY OF THE BEDTIME ROUTINE

Since my sister was born in 1972 I have shared a bedroom with somebody. At first it was my older sister, then my younger sister and finally my husband. The bedtime routine goes back to my childhood. I have always been the last to say goodnight but also the first.
To signal I wanted my sister to be quiet I would say goodnight. She would then either say goodnight or ask another question. I would reply with goodnight being the last word. This would continue. Every time she said goodnight I would reply goodnight until she would finally be quiet and sleep.
Everybody I have ever shared a room with knows I have to have the last goodnight but it must follow a goodnight. I do not stop until I have had a reply.

TWITTER GOODNIGHT

I thought this was just in real life however I have discovered I am the same on twitter. I have to say 'goodnight' to indicate I am leaving but can't leave until I have had a 'goodnight' in reply. To this I then answer 'goodnight'. Any conversation entered into has to have a goodnight at the end of a sentence with my goodnight being the last.

RECENTLY SAYING GOODNIGHT HAS TAKEN A GOOD HALF HOUR!

So please, if you follow me on twitter, I say goodnight, you reply goodnight and then I say goodnight.

THANK YOU!

My First Baby

Giving birth has been a different experience with all four of my children. The first time took me by surprise. I know that sounds daft as I knew I was pregnant but my baby decided to come 3 weeks early.
I had written a few questions down for my midwife ready to ask her at my antenatal appointment a few days later but baby couldn't wait that long. It was 5am when I woke up and thought I had wet the bed. It took a few minutes to work out that that wasn't the case and my waters had broken. I woke my husband who went and phoned the hospital. They said not to bother coming in until I started having contractions so I changed sheets and went back to bed.
9am came and off we went to ASDA. I know most people would have gone to hospital but I still had some bits to get as, like I said, my baby had caught me by surprise. Walking round the shop was a little awkward - not because I was in labour and could feel contractions but because my waters had broken and every so often I could feel a dribble!
We got the shopping, went home, packed my hospital bag and phoned again. I was advised to take a bath and see if that helped. Still couldn't feel anything. Later that evening we phoned and went to hospital. I was told off for not coming in sooner although still nothing was happening. We saw a nice midwife who found my list of questions. The first one was what should I do when I go into labour. The midwife laughed as all my questions were irrelevant apart from one.
In my notes it mentioned something about the shape of my pelvis with question marks. My mum had had all 3 of her children by c section because her child bearing hips were not designed to bear children! I was worried that this was the same for me. The midwife shrugged and said I wasn't to worry.
I was put on a ward and told to wait and my husband was sent home. Well I waited and waited.Contractions came but I was told I still had to wait. Eventually somebody came and got me and took me to the delivery room. They called my husband back then too.
That's when the pain started. My baby was back to back with me and I was getting pain down my spine.I was told to breathe like they had taught me in classes. It was then I pointed out that I hadn't been to any classes. The gas was good but not really doing the trick so they decided to give me pethidine. I don't remember a lot after that.
What I do remember doesn't make a lot of sense. I was suddenly on a dive boat on the Solent with a blue hippo with pink spots as my dive buddy. I know this is highly unlikely but that's what I vividly remember!
I had a couple of doses of pethidine but after the second the baby really began to arrive. In fact as soon as she did she had to be whisked away to be given the antidote! Baby was fine and weighed in at 6lb 1/2oz. I could hold her in one hand and all the clothes I had swamped her.
The midwife in delivery was lovely but back on the ward wasn't so good. I got out of bed the next morning and collapsed. Nobody noticed! Came too and buzzed for help but was told to just get back in bed and stay there. This was my first born, I hadn't been to classes and I hadn't a clue what I was doing. The midwives just tutted.
Just after that there was a huge investigation with several midwives being sacked for bullying patients and other midwives. I decided I would never give birth in that hospital again. How wrong can you be!

Discovering pregnancy.

Recently I have been reading blogs by other people relating to their experiences of motherhood, from potty training to tantrums. I thought it would be nice to join in but as my children range in ages and my memory isn't the best, those early years aren't quite so vivid.
That too set me thinking. There have been so many little things that I have wanted to know about me as a child but my mum isn't around to ask. I thought maybe it would be nice to write down bits that I do remember from my own experiences in case I'm not around when my children want to know things.
With that in mind I'm going to start at the very beginning. Well maybe not the VERY beginning although I do know the exact date of conception of 2 of my children I don't think the details are necessary!!!! Instead I'll start with discovering I was pregnant.


Pregnancy and giving birth has been different with all 4 of my children . Discovering I was pregnant differed too. With my first child I was on a diving weekend in Plymouth when I realised I was pregnant. In fact I was sat on the sea bed at 30m and leading a dive. It was really quite peculiar. I went out on the dive boat as normal, rolled off the side and descended to the seabed. The minute I got there a little voice in my head started shouting 'get to the surface now, you're pregnant'. At first I thought it was nitrogen narcosis but I couldn't get the voices to stop. We were only at the bottom for about 10 minutes when I signalled for the dive to be aborted. I got back on the RIB and made out I had a problem with my equipment whilst I sat thinking about the voices.
I had a long time to think too as we were diving in 2 waves and so I was sat on the boat getting colder and colder. In the end I was pushed onto floor of the boat with people trying to keep me awake. Our dive boat left the group early to get me to shore as quickly as possible. I remember my friend Jay dragging me out the boat and walking me back up to where we were staying. I was so cold I had stopped shivering. He started to take me into the boys bathroom to which I objected but he wouldn't take no for an answer. He ran me a warm shower and I remember him helping me out of my semi dry suit. He then marched me back to my room and waited outside for me to get dressed before making me a cuppa. I should have been thinking how lucky that the most fanciable man on the trip had just had a shower with me when all I thought was that I was hearing voices. I didn't dare tell anybody.
I wasn't even late with my period then but I knew I was pregnant. Luckily for me the weather took a turn for the worse and all diving was cancelled for the weekend. I came home and at the first chance went out and bought a test kit. Sure enough the voices were right and I was pregnant.
It didn't just happen once though. The voices came back with my second child. It was just as odd but I wasn't in a particularly awkward situation. In fact I was just out walking with my toddler. I had wanted to get home quicker so had started skipping down the road with my little girl. No sooner had I started bouncing up and down and the voices came back. Somebody in my head shouted 'stop jumping up and down like that, you're pregnant!' I stopped, walked a bit and then started skipping again. The voice said it again. I walked past my house and to the chemist for a pregnancy test and sure enough it was positive.I was only a day or so late then.
You'll be pleased to know there were no voices with my third child. I knew I was pregnant when I was a few days late but there were no voices. When I suspected I was pregnant I tried skipping to see what would happen but nobody yelled at me. They did come back for my fourth child though.
With the fourth it was slightly different. We went on a family holiday for New Year to Cornwall. We went with friends and my friend made me try the sunbeds. That's not when the voices came though. It was towards the end of the holiday and we went shopping. I bought myself a tight fitting leather pencil skirt. Don't ask me why. My fashion sense has never been great. When we got back to the lodge I tried it on and my friend said she would laugh if I was pregnant. My husband turned round and said ' if she gets pregnant , we get divorced'. As soon as he said it that little voice in my head went ' I hope you know a good solicitor, you're pregnant!' Stupid voice. I wasn't pregnant at the start of that holiday but I knew the voice had never been wrong before.
Whoops, I said I wasn't going to mention when they were conceived and actually that makes 3 children I can trace back to conception. Guess I'll leave it there for now.

I'm sure I'm not the only one knew before they knew. I'd like to hear your stories. Please comment

My Sister and Meningitis

Meningitis is a word that strikes fear into the hearts of parents everywhere. It's one of those nasty diseases you hear about and pray you never encounter. My family did encounter it though but we were lucky.

The first time I had really heard of meningitis was when I was at my cousins house. I was listening to a conversation about my cousin's friend. She was in her late teens and her parents were away. She was spending the day with her boyfriend but had a headache so sent him home. He phoned her that evening but got no answer so went round to her house. He found her dead in her bed. It all happened very quickly. She had meningitis and she died. That was all the information I knew. She had a really bad headache and died.
Jump forward 6 months to December 1990. My sister was 18, working at Waitrose on a Saturday an had d just started going out with her boyfriend. They went to a pub after work and my sister made 1 drink last all evening. A few days later she had an eye infection. It didn't hurt but her bottom eyelid was swollen and her eye was dripping.
My mum was a firm believer that if you weren't being sick then you could go to school so off to school my sister went. ( Where we lived you did A levels at the school you did your GCEs at). My sister chased her friends around trying to drip her eye on them as it seemed like a good game to play. Her home economics teacher wasn't so amused by the dripping eye and sent Helen home from school. This annoyed my mum but my sister found amusing.
The following morning Helen woke with a headache. She and I shared a room and I was just at home reading. There was nothing particularly out of the ordinary. Helen had a headache and a temperature just like we all had had a million times before. Mum came to check on her and we all sat laughing as normal. Then mum did something really unusual. For only the second time in my life my mum phoned the doctor and asked for a home visit. This was unheard of. The last time she had done that was when everybody in the house, apart from me, had got he mumps. I don't know why she did and mum never could say why she did either.
I stayed in my bedroom that morning reading. We were waiting for the doctor. Helen slept. Mum took her temperature and asked me to look to see if I could see a rash. I couldn't. A locum doctor arrived and came up to look at Helen. She didn't wake up when he looked at her. He was in the room no more than 5 minutes. He looked at mum and said ' I don't want to alarm you but I'm going to phone for an ambulance' He went downstairs and made the call.
The doctor's surgery was at the bottom of the road. He asked if I could walk down and collect a letter from the surgery and give it to the ambulance men. I don't know why he didn't write it there and then, maybe her doctor needed to sign it. I know he left by car and I walked down to the surgery. My sister's friend's mum was the receptionist on duty. She looked white when she gave me the letter I needed. I ran home and arrived before the ambulance.
Mum was with Helen but went to wait for the ambulance when I got back. She showed me the rash on my sister's body before she left the room. Two ambulance men arrived to collect my sister. When they tried to get her she started screaming and hitting them. Looking back it was a funny sight as these two burly men were being beaten by a screaming banshee. Mum couldn't watch. They decided they needed to restrain her and one left to get a stretcher/wheelchair.
My sister was still in bed and the ambulanceman asked me if she was decent under the covers. I didn't know the answer. They pulled back the covers and she wasn't. Whoops! They asked if I could get her dressed. 2 minutes earlier she had been a screaming banshee with flailing fists but she was my sister so of course I would put some underwear on her. I searched her draw for her lucky knickers as I knew she would need those. The men had left the room but came back in. Helen had gone quiet by now so they got her out of bed into the chair where they strapped her on and carried her to the waiting ambulance. I watched them load her in and I watched my mum get in to. The doors closed and they drove off.
As they were closing the doors my neighbour was driving down the road. She stopped the car and got out. I remember her asking if everything was OK. I remember shaking and telling her I had to wait for the ambulance to be out of sight. I couldn't cry until mum and Helen were out of sight as they were relying on me. When the ambulance vanished I told 'auntie' Jenny what had happened. She was supposed to be going out but cancelled her plans.
I sort of switched from tears to bossy mode. Granny had phoned when the ambulance had turned up which is why mum wasn't in the room. Mum hadn't told her it was expected meningitis as Granny was 84 and very easily distressed. She did know Helen was going to hospital though so I sent auntie Jenny to Granny to make sure she was alright.
Next I tried to contact Dad. It was Christmas and he was at a Christmas lunch. His office didn't know when he would be back. I phoned his office 3 times. On the last call I his boss answered and asked what the problem was. I told him Dad needed to go straight to St Heliers as Helen was ill. I wrote Dad a note and left it on the kitchen table and then got in the car and drove to the hospital. I hadn't been there since I was born and wasn't exactly sure of the way but knew roughly here it was!
I found Mum in the waiting room. Helen had been taken for tests. Whilst we were sat there she was wheeled past us. She looked terrible. They took her for a lumbar puncture. We sat waiting for ages. Dad arrived whilst we were waiting. He'd gone straight home from his lunch and found the note on the table. As an ex policeman he knew exactly where to go for the hospital. Eventually we were taken to the relatives room. Helen was on a life support machine in intensive care. We were warned she was going to be all wired up and was in a coma so wouldn't be able to communicate with us. We were also given tablets to take, antibiotics, to stop us getting it too.
That evening Mum and dad sent me home. I phoned Granny to let her know what was going on. Nobody had told us about the side effects of the tablets. They turned your wee bright orange. Dad came home later that night.He had had a nasty experience in the public toilets whilst using the urinals. Bright orange pee in front of an audience was something he would have preferred not to happen! We had forgotten Helen was supposed to be going out with her boyfriend too! He called to find out why he had been stood up and dad told him what had happened. In the morning we phoned the hospital to check. There had been no change. They had however let her boyfriend in to sit with her as he had turned up at the hospital at midnight with his parents.
Dad went back to the hospital in the morning. Meningitis is one of those diseases where everybody who has been near it has to be told. Dad asked if I could phone school as he didn't want the health authority contacting them before we had. I remember phoning and asking the secretary if I could speak to the Head teacher. They were busy and would phone me back. 2 hours later I phoned again. They were still too busy to speak to me. 1/2 hour later the phone rang. It was Mrs Batterley, my old French teacher. When she said who it was I wanted to stand up and say Bonjour madame but resisted the urge. The health authority had just been in contact with the school. Mrs Batterley was head of sixth form and was phoning to apologise for not returning our calls. She wanted to know all the details and could she keep phoning for updates.
I went back to the hospital then. We were told the first 24hours would decide if she would live or die and the next 24 hours would decide how much damage there was. Dad took mum home whilst I was there. She had survived 24 hours so that was good. Mum wanted to locate my older sister and get her home. She was away at the time and we didn't have contacted details. Now nobody in my family is allowed to go away without giving every detail possible! I remember talking to Helen and playing New Kids on the Block music to her. When mum and dad came back I went home. School phoned again for an update.
Helen came round after 48 hours. There was no obvious side effects at the start. She was still very poorly though. When I went to visit her I told her I'd put her in her lucky knickers. She looked at me in horror. Apparently she'd failed every exam she wore her lucky knickers in! When she checked though I had put her in the wrong knickers so they became her knew lucky pair!
I remember having to collect her friends from school and take them to visit her. It was Christmas so they had Christmas and get well presents for her. Every evening when her boyfriend finished work he went to the hospital and stayed with her. They'd only been out once! It was Christmas Eve when they let her out of hospital. Her boyfriend came to visit every day. In the end he was given a bed in the spare room to save him travelling . He sort of moved in then and is now her husband. They bought the house from my Dad after Mum died so basically have lived there together since 1990.

The only side effect she was left with was an extreme tiredness. She can fall asleep at the drop of a hat. In fact she has been known to fall asleep in mid telephone conversation, even when she is the one talking!She is one of the lucky ones. We nearly lost her so the fact she falls asleep talking to us is something we are all happy to put up with.
We don't know why she caught it. Apparently the meningitis germs can live dormant in your body with no trouble. Helen is convinced she caught it because she left her drink at the pub standing for so long without drinking it. She thinks the germs in the air got in her drink over time and that's why she got it. I think that's just an excuse to down her drinks fast and drink more.
I know I have seen a meningitis rash. I know to look out for a headache and a temperature. I also know that her eye infection was part of the meningitis as it can often start with an apparently unrelated infection.

My Mum and Cancer

I have recently signed up to do a charity trek in aid of Breakthrough Breast Cancer and thought I would share my cancer experience with you. This won't be easy as when my mum was dying, 16 years ago, from lung cancer she asked us not to remember her like that but remember the happy times. For 16 years I have been blocking out memories but now feel it is time to share.



When my family are ill we make sure we are really ill! Not just a chest infection for my son but life threatening pneumonia. Not just a headache for my sister but 48 hours on a life support machine with meningitis. ( We were told first 24 hours would determine if she lived or not and second 24 hrs would determine how much damage there was. She was lucky and survived unscathed)

It was my mum however who had the biggest battles and unfortunately didn't survive the last. Her first fight was with breast cancer back in 1987. I remember her calling me into her bedroom one morning and asking me to look at her boob. She had a bit of a sense of humour like mine and I was waiting for some kind of joke but there wasn't one. I looked and she seemed to have a dimple where skin was being pulled in. She said she could feel something and would I feel. I couldn't feel anything but that might have been because I really didn't want to be examining my mum's boob.

She phoned the doctor's surgery and was asked if it was urgent so she told them she thought she had a lump. The doctor was very good and saw her very quickly. At the time she was covered by private health care so was sent to St Antony's private hospital. My uncle was, at the time, one of the top eye surgeons in the country and pulled some strings to get her seen by somebody he considered to be very good in that field. Results came back from the biopsy to say it was a malignant tumour and needed to be removed.

She went into hospital soon after that and had the lump removed. I remember her laughing when telling us about at a conversation with the consultant. He had said he was very relieved that he had only had to remove the lump as there wasn't enough silicon in the country to replace a boob her size! Apparently my dad had been in the room and had looked like he was going to hit the man, which would have been very out of character. It made my mum laugh and that was all that mattered.

After the surgery she did need follow up treatment. I don't remember if it was chemo or radio therapy. I know lymph glands were checked and I know she had treatment but my memory is foggy on the details. She used to say that she visualised the cancer cells and visualised little men with pick axes bashing away at it to remove. She had her own team of miners removing her cancer. I don't know if her positive thinking and visualisations helped destroy the cancer but it helped her stay strong mentally.

At the time we were due to be going on a family holiday to Florida. My then boyfriend, now husband, was meeting us there as that's where the navy was taking him. I remember mum being worried about a bikini or a swimsuit as she wasn't sure if she was lop sided. I didn't notice if she was. She was given the all clear just before we went away. That made the holiday even more special but the effects of her treatment did show on the holiday. We went to Wet and Wild and instead of being the first on the water slides mum just watched. She spent most of the time on the lazy river as she didn't have to do anything for that. She was sore under her arm and on side where she had had treatment.

After that life returned pretty much to normal. The consultant put her on some tablets that they believed would prevent it ever coming back. She had to go for regular check ups but the timing between these grew longer as the years went by. She was a 5 year survivor of breast cancer and we were delighted.

We had been lulled into a false sense of security though. In January 1993 Mum and Dad went on holiday to Kenya. Whilst out there she did some snorkeling. She had first tried it on our Florida holiday and really enjoyed. This time, howeve, she found it really difficult. Breathing wasn't easy. She went to the doctor when she got back. It was then that the lump in her lungs was found. By then I was married and living away. I can't remember when or how she told me. I considered moving home for a bit whilst she was treated but I had a job and a husband and a life to live of my own.
During the summer we went to visit and I announced that I was pregnant with my first child. I thought my mum would be ecstatic but she wasn't as enthusiastic as I thought. She told me she had always wanted to be at the birth of my child as she hadn't been there when any of her 3 children were born. I know technically she was there but all 3 of us were born by c section and back then mums were knocked out first. I told mum she could be my birthing partner as my husband wasn't so keen. I had it in my head that would be the case.

Mum was treated at the Royal Marsden in Sutton. The treatment was harsh and she was in and out of hospital. I wasn't there a lot of the time but visited at weekends. Mum started knitting again too. We talked about baby names and baby care whilst she was in hospital. We went to the library together one day and she was struggling with her breathing. People kept staring because of the noise. I could see the upset in her eyes. We had to go shopping for a hat one weekend too for my sister's wedding. The lady in the shop made a comment that mum had a nasty cold. I remember her snapping at the lady that it wasn't a cold, it was cancer. The poor woman looked horrified. I don't think mum meant to be mean but it was really hurting her by then. I remember her saying that cancer is a word not a sentence. We clung to that saying. We had to believe that there was a light at the end of the tunnel.

It was October when things got really really bad. I went to visit for her birthday. She had been in hospital but they let her come home for her birthday. When I got there she was on her nebuliser. She wouldn't let me in the room in case the fumes hurt the baby. She was still knitting a little yellow cardigan for my baby.

I went to visit again a few days later as she was in hospital. My dad had phoned to say that mum wanted me. I had been given time off by my boss to spend with my mum. He was a really grumpy old troll but he was very big on family and I was allowed as much time as I liked. When I arrived at the hospital mum was sat with a doctor and my dad. I went into the room and dad and the doctor left the room. Mum smiled and said she was glad I had come. We chatted and she told me I was her best friend. That was a lovely thing to hear as she was my best friend too. My dad came back in to say he was going home and said the doctor wanted to see me when I had a minute. I didn't have a minute, I was with mum.
The next day my sister came to the hospital with me. Mum gave us a cheque to pay into dad'sbank as he had some bills coming out. It must have been a Monday. She always did her books on a Monday. My sister and I did that for her. My other sister arrived the next day. We all sat around chatting in the hospital. I remember one Sunday my cousin came to visit. London's Burning was on the TV. He and I were chatting as we thought she was asleep. She suddenly told us to shut up as she was trying to watch TV. Her eyes were shut so we giggled.
I don't remember exactly when conversations were had. I know she commented that Uncle Ron hadn't been to visit. She said for a Dr who had a huge aversion to hospitals. I think he did come and visit one day but he didn't stay long. She laughed at his lack of bedside manner. Another day she told me not to remember her like that but to remember the good times. She told me how she had been to see ner Gran after she died and that was the only memory she now had of her. She didn't want that for us. She talked about snorkelling at Durdle Dor. When the cancer was getting to her that's where she pictured herself being. She didn't have men with pick axes but she did have a tranquil place to go to in her mind.
Slowly she got worse. My sister and I were sitting with her one day when the nurses came in. Mum spent most of the time asleep and we just sat with her. She was on lots of pain relieving drugs. The nurses needed to change the sheets. They rolled mum over and my sister and I stared at each other in disbelief.She had huge bed sores. They were weepy and horrible and huge. The nurses just rolled her round the bed chatting to each other. It was the most depressing, distressing thing I had seen.
Slowly mum spoke less and less. I would hold her hand and stroke her finger just like she had done for me so many times in the past. The sound of her breathing was gut renching. Sometimes she took huge breathes in and then nothing. My sister and I took deep breathes too and stared at each other.
On the morning of 20th October I had to leave the hospital as I had an antenatal appointment. I had wanted to cancel but with the stress I needed to make sure the baby was ok. I was given a lift to the train station and caught the train back to Fareham. I know I stood on the platform in tears and I know I found an empty carriage to sit in. A guard came round to check tickets. He pointed out I was in a first class carriage but my ticket wasn't. He asked if I was alright and told me to stay there.
I went to my appointment with my husband and then we drove back. I think it must have been in my mother in law's car as ours was still parked in the hospital car park. I hink my husband had borrowed it when I stayed behind but details are at best foggy. I know that instead of going straight to the hospital we went back home. We arrived at the same time as my dad and my sisters. That meant mum was at the hospital alone and that meant she must have gone as we wouldn't leave her on her own.
I was numb. I had let her down.When she needed me most I wasn't there and it was all the stupid baby's fault. That's what I thought because I couldn't face the fact she had gone. I had to go to the hospital to collect the car and I remember staring at her room. They were stupid thoughts in hind sight. The one thing that had been a positive was my pregnancy. Mum had read my notes,helped chose a name, felt the baby kick and wanted to be there. It was the bloody cancer at fault.
I went on to blame the sunbathing my mum did. She used to cover herself in olive oil to get a good tan. If she hadn't would she have got cance? My Granny blamed the exercise machines my mum used. Obviously if you lay on a machine that moved your limbs for you you would develop cancer! My dad blamed the wonder drug that would stop the breast cancer coming back. If we hadn't been lulled into a false sense of security would we have caught it earlier?

I'm not sure about time span. We had to go back to the hospital to the relatives room to collect the death certificate and her belongings. They asked if she had any jewelery and dad and I looked at each other. She had given us her rings to take home before because you couldn't trust people. It made us smile. Dad asked me to come with him to register her death. He didn't want to go on his own and thought I might be able to help. We also went to get quotes for her funeral. When she was in the hospital she told us we had to shop around for her funeral. We weren't allowed to just go to one place as they could rip us off in our grief. We needed to get a goood deal. I remember being in the car with dad trying to decide if we had been given a good price or f we needed to look else where. We couldn't face it and so assumed the price was good.
The joint bank accounts and mum's accounts were put on hold. Dad couldn't get to his money. It was ok though as the cheque mum had made me bank was meant to pay for her funeral. She knew dad would need it.
Her funeral was 2 weeks later, bonfire night. Her best friend was on holiday when she died so dad wanted to wait for her to come home. The day of her funeral was worse than the day she died. Evn the milkman left a note on the doorstep. There were 2 cars if I remember rightly. We followed the hearse from our house. I remember the hearse went through a red light and we followed. Mum was never very good with traffic lights, either stopping when they were green or pushing her luck when they went red. She even did it when she was dead! There were loads of people at the crematorium, some I hadn't seen for years. I wanted to greet and chat with them but it didn't seem right. I remember them carrying her coffin in. It looked too big to be her but I knew it was. I didn't want to believe it though.


That was the battle she lost.


So now I have 4 children who never met their Granny but who know about her. I am jealous of friends who still have their mums and who have great relationships with them. I am hugely greatful for the fantastic relationship I had with my mum when I see friends having trouble with theirs. My sister said to me that I wasn't mum's favourite. I'm not sure why she felt she had to say that. I know mum didn't have favourites amongst her children. I also know I was her best friend. She loved us all but we had a special friendship.