A recipe for happiness ... it works for me anyway.

There is nothing better for clearing my mind than to spend time outside. When I was thinner and fitter I would go for a run and let the wind rushing through my hair blow the cobwebs and the frustrations of the day away.I am still hoping that my running days are not over! Nowadays though you are more likely to find me escaping either into my garden or my allotment to clear my head.

No matter what has happened in my day there is something about being outdoors, alone, in the sunshine and the breeze that empties my head of my worries or my sadness. The quiet trek from water butt to vegetable beds, with water from my watering can slopping onto my feet, becomes a process of meditation. My only companions are the birds and the insects and somehow my mind reaches a quiet place - a place of contentment and happiness.

There is much to be said for being able to find that place. I don't have to be anything I am not. There is no expectation to be anything other than the carrier of water for my plants.

I crouch in the dust of my pathways, slowly making my way around my plot, weeding and tidying and slowly emptying my mind of the day's happenings. I probably spend about 45 minutes each day doing this and although it will never change the world it changes me. I choose to put away everything negative and just concentrate on making my plants healthy, my plot spotless.

We have eaten two of my lettuces now and each day I go there are changes to everything. The runner beans are shooting up the canes and the redcurrants are turning into scarlet jewels, nestled amongst the shading leaves. Spring onions are pushing their way up through the earth to protect my carrots. And the bush I thought was another red currant is now laden with ... gooseberries!

I am very lucky to have my little sanctuary. It may not change the world, it may not be very interesting to anyone else, but I love it and it makes me happy on days when I could have been sad.

I want to curl up and cry, then punch you in the eye...

There are days when I want to run away. Days like today when I want to bury my head in a pillow and cry. Don't worry - nothing dire has happened, in fact, yes, I know I am very lucky in every way. But this is my release valve and today I am releasing my steam.

I am sick of treading on eggshells around people, trying to do the right thing and not hurt any feelings. I am sick of having to keep my thoughts and emotions inside.I am trying to do my best - raise my boys, do homework, sort out the allotment, fund raise for Japan, be supportive, not complain, cope with difficult conditions at work. I thought I was doing ok, but apparently not. Apparently I am angry and everyone is stepping on eggshells around me...

So... is it me? It must be. The person who told me this must have grounds... To be told this, however, is a shock and very upsetting. The person who told me didn't seem to realise I was upset. Maybe I hid those feelings well? Maybe they didn't care? When I think about it, yes, I am angry. I just thought I hid  it well. I am angry that I hate my OU course this year. Angry that my children treat me like a glorified slave. Angry that I work in a low paid crap job. Angry that I never see my husband alone. Angry that my life didn't quite work out how I planned it.

But the thing I am most angry about is that despite all these things I carry on doing my best and yet it seems that best is not good enough. It makes me think - why bother? If I talk about my problems to anyone I feel that they are bored, don't really give a stuff. I am expected to listen to other people's problems and be kind, caring, optimistic, but my angst?? Shut up, keep shtum, don't be boring. If I moan about my job then I am being stupid because my job doesn't count... I am 'only a ....'.

So what is my solution? My solution is to go down the allotment and dig for all I am worth, to write cryptically on here and hope nobody I know reads it, to eat myself better with toast and boursin, to cry quietly alone in my room, to lift up my head and keep giving to everyone I know, to think of others who are far worse off than me. I will get over this feeling, but it will leave a little criticism shaped scar in my heart. I am bruised and sad and rejected. I wish I had the courage to scream and criticise people the way they criticise me.

But, you know I am stronger than that. I am better than that. I know that, but right now it doesn't feel that way. Right now I hurt.

A210... Byron, Dacre and failure... and don't even talk to me about the Colour Purple...

Please forgive me if I indulge myself with a few heartfelt tears... I was surprised to see my latest essay back this afternoon....well a few minutes ago, and I am gutted by my mark.The thing is... I worked really hard on it, writing copious notes on Byron and Charlotte bloody Dacre and when I came to write I just could not fit all my ideas in.And so I cut it down to size and, to be honest with you, I really enjoyed writing it.

But now I get it back and my mark is crap and I feel crap and I wonder if my next one will be equally rubbish.I don't even know where to start with the next one - discussing whether Alice Walker portrayed black men as sweet and loveable in The Colour Purple. I am behind with my reading because I worked so hard on the Byron essay and I feel miserable.

Yes, I know, I need to get a life, but this means so much to me and my little old ego is somewhat fragile... I will pull myself together and sort all this out, but before now I have been able to guess pretty much what sort of grade I would achieve... and I thought I had done ok this time... WRONG!!

Maybe I need to think about it this way... I am not doing this to get a mega job, I am doing this for my own satisfaction and, let's face it, I am not going to fail. Even if I get a low pass it will still be a pass. But you know I don't want to do that, don't you? I want to do well and this essay has me thinking that I am not as clever as I hoped.Actually I should never have started this.... if at first you don't succeed, give up because you were probably bound for failure anyway...

I may just go and drink myself to death.

And that is wrong because.......

Well, again its been a long time.I hope that you all had a good Christmas? Ours was quiet and uneventful, but nice.We had a lovely get together on the afternoon of Christmas Eve and then spent Christmas Day with just the four of us.

I went over to my Mum's for her birthday drinks party and that proved eventful! It usually takes me about 45 minutes on a good day. There had been snow, so I checked the forecast which predicted light snow for both our areas. Not enough to stop me going so off I set at 3pm. The party started at 7pm so we had lots of time to get there and maybe go for a walk.Not so... In the end it took us 7 and a half hours to get there!! Heavy snow meant that we had to abandon the car eventually and walk for 2 and a half hours to get to my Mum's house.Still, we got there in the end and all was well.

My two brothers and their wives have been staying with my Mum over Christmas.She worships the very ground they tread on so I am quite sure that they have had a lovely time.My brothers and their wives all get on well together too so it all sounds lovely.Unfortunately they left today and my Mum phoned me this evening. She had obviously been drinking, but I was patient and listened to her as she complained about the fact that my sons had not given me the message that she had called earlier.Then she asked if I had told my sons something that I won't go into here.

I had told them. Its not a massive secret... its something lovely and I wanted them to know. They were also told that for now it had to remain between us as family. They understood and have not said a word.Unfortunately this was not ok with my Mum.Having had our conversation she phoned back about 30 minutes and a couple of scotches later.She could not believe that I had told them.Now, bear in mind that I had not been told not to say anything to them and I had asked them to keep it under their hats.She has a way of making me feel so angry.She treats me like an 8 year old that she is telling off. I felt my blood pressure rising and was so tempted to just tell her what I thought. But I did not.I listened to what she said, in silence, and then said ok and goodbye.I was not going to apologise as I had done nothing wrong, but I did not want to get involved in an argument. She is obviously upset that both boys have left today and has had too much to drink.

It makes me feel so crap that I drive through the snow for 7 and a half hours to get to her and she doesn't seem to appreciate my present ( my drawing which I mounted and framed for her ) She is always going on about how wonderful my brothers are and at the slightest thing she thinks I have done wrong she treats me like ... I wish you could hear the tone of her voice.The derision in it for me is palpable.

I am just glad that I didn't bite back.Why does she make me feel this way? My brother would probably say that I allow myself to feel this way, but you know what? She doesn't speak to my brothers the way she does to my sister and me. I try so hard to be a good daughter, but I just don't seem to have what she wants.

Back.Miserable.

Yet again I have been away from my blog for a long time. And yet again I find my way back to it in a moment when I am at my lowest ebb. I have just walked away from my eldest son before I  said something I would regret.Sometimes I cannot stand the way my life is.My husband is away for a few daysafter tonight and I am trying to make this time a good time with my boys, but the eldest drives me insane.Why is he so selfish?Why will he not do what I want?I have no social life. My life is spent working, cooking tidying up and taxiing them to their social lives.I cannot stand it. Tonight I wanted to kill him. I screamed at him. Screamed.I try so hard to be good and kind... to do the right thing for everyone around me.And as I do this my own life is disappearing.I don't go anywhere other than my book club or a tutorial for my course. I have had children for 12 years - from the age of 33 to now...the prime of my life. And for 12 years I have struggled for 80% of the time. I have hated being a mum sometimes and tonight is one of those times when I wish I could just walk away. Of course I won't. I will pour my heart out on here, have a cry and be all smiles when my husband gets back in an hour. I am dreading the next 3 days. He is away with friends, with their band, in a posh hotel and recording studio.I am here, taxiing to football, biting my nails,eating myself up another dress size.I am so miserable at this moment.I am trapped by motherhood and will be for another God knows how long.I hate it.

Bullying...what to do??

I am sitting here this evening in a bit of a tizz.My son, who has just started Secondary school, has been saying that he is scared to go back to school tomorrow.Some of the older children have been tripping, pushing, name calling and once shoved leaves down his back.He came back the other day with a plaster on his arm where someone had pricked him with a pen/pencil/compass.

I have contacted the school and his form tutor got back to me straight away so they will be doing something about it, but he is adamant that he doesn't want teachers involved.I just don't know what to do.I thought he was happy.He won't tell me any details, but tonight was in tears and at one point said he wanted to kill himself.Oh my God!! What can I do??

He started acting really oddly and I was worried.He has always loved school and is a bright boy. He is good and kind and popular.I honestly don't think they are singling him out for the mean treatment, but if I could get hold of the little sods who are doing this....They are probably only 13 or 14, but how dare they do this to him??

Part of me even started to doubt him tonight. Is he telling the truth? Is he attention seeking?I found myself getting cross that he was  being so stubborn about not getting teachers involved and yet being so upset.How can I doubt him?That's a terrible thing to think.I just feel so helpless.All my friends children who go there are perfectly happy and have not had any problems as far as I know. Is he being over sensitive?

I am hoping that a good night's sleep will calm him and he will go in feeling much happier in the morning.Have you had any experience of this sort of thing?Do you have any advice?I just don't know what to do... what approach to take. I just want him to be happy...

Rejected, dejected... don't come here for anything but a truckload of misery.

You know, there are days when you feel so happy, so full of optimism for the future. Yesterday was one of those days. I spent a wonderful day at my mum's house. She and I got on so well - really enjoying each other's company. My boys had a super time with their cousins, swimming and playing happily.


I took my artwork to show my family and they were very supportive - full of an enthusiasm that they don't often show. I journeyed home bursting with good feelings and the hope that I could do something with my art, do something with my life.


And today is one of those days when you feel low and wonder why you ever had the arrogance to presume that you could ever be successful at anything. I went from being full of beans to full of woe in one easy step. My paintings were rejected by a card company I had sent them to, my husband only has one day off this week and has chosen to go out tonight to a 40th birthday party without me, and my sons blame me for saying it was ok for him to go.



I am not fishing for compliments this time. This time I am just feeling my full 45 years. I know that I have to paint because I love it, paint because I would rather do that than anything else and if anyone likes my art and something good comes from it... well, then that is a great by product, but not the reason to do it. But rejection is hard to take.


I feel rejected by my Man, even though I know I am not. He very rarely goes out and its just the fact that today is his one day off and I will miss him that I resent this outing. I know he will not stay long and he will come back sober and in good time, but the fact that he chose the party over me is difficult to take.


Tonight I am just a big fat wallowy blob of self pity. Thank goodness I have my blog in which to lay down my misery. When I was in my 20's and at university writing was the one thing that kept me nearly sane. I used to write poetry to slash your wrists by... very dark and full of hormones! Luckily now I no longer feel the need for poetry, but to be able to stream my thoughts onto here empties me of some of my sadness.


For now I feel alone and pissed off and sick of being stuck here. I feel old and ugly and nothing.