Rainbow Ramblings - 2022

Thank you so much – the forgotten art of the thank you letter!

As I got older, I began to understood how important a thank you really was. I understood that someone had taken the time and gone to the expense of selecting a gift, wrapping it and putting it in the post, just for me. These were generally relatives and friends of the family that I rarely saw, so it seemed only right that I should take a few minutes to send my thanks. Often there would be a follow up phone call to my parents saying how lovely it was to get my message in the post.

It is something that I instilled in my own children. Each one would write a few sentences on a card and we would often pop an up-to-date photograph in with them. I wanted them to understand the importance too. It seemed that they were very well received and the present givers enjoyed hearing from the children, but it also taught my children an important lesson. It taught them to be grateful, not necessarily for the gift itself, but for the meaning behind it. A gift meant that someone was thinking about them and for that reason, they were incredibly lucky. My children learned that not all children are so lucky.

Over the years I have often sent out gifts and to be honest, there have been numerous times when they have not been acknowledged. I find this so sad. A letter tells me that a gift has at least arrived at its destination! It tells me that it has been received by the right person and it tells me that that person knows that I was thinking about them. If I have taken particular time to choose a really apt gift for a special occasion, it is disappointing to know that that effort has not been appreciated. These days texts, e mails and Facebook messages are often used instead of the written form and although it is not my preferred option, when times have been tough I have used them and I am grateful for those I receive, but nothing beats a handwritten message in the post. I feel that that is even more important for the older generation.

There are fewer gifts these days as we get older and living costs prove high but there are still one or two that I shall be writing thank you letters for after the festive holiday. I hope that they are appreciated but at least I know, that I have done my best to show my gratefulness for someone’s kindness.

I wonder what your views are? Do you acknowledge a gift or do you feel that these days it is totally unnecessary?

I love Christmas. I love the build up to it, the preparations, the outings, the present wrapping and the Christmas cards. I love sending cards and receiving them but I seem to be more in the minority as each year passes and this year will be no exception.

I love getting anything in the post other than bills and junk mail! But as the years have passed, I have noticed a decline in the number of things we receive. Instead of letters we get texts and emails, instead of presents we might get an e voucher and instead of a physical card we may get an e card or nothing at all!

Don’t get me wrong, I am very grateful for everything I receive and to know that people are thinking of me, but there is something quite special about receiving things through the letter box – something solid and tangible, that you can display and look at or read over and over again whilst sitting comfortably in an armchair. I stick all my cards onto the living room doors and enjoy looking at the pictures and reading the messages inside each time I pass. Those I send, usually include a short-handwritten message giving details of how the family is or recent news. It takes me ages, but I want those that receive a card from me to know that I am thinking of them and remembering them. Many recipients I don’t see year in, year out, as we have moved around so often, as have many of our friends (the curse of the military lifestyle) and this is my way of keeping in touch, recognising that they were a part of my life at some time and showing that I am interested in what they are doing and how their family are.

With the current cost of living crisis and with the threatened strikes by Royal Mail, more people than ever are saying that they are no longer sending cards – they are finding it all too expensive, and I get it, I really do, but I can’t help thinking it is rather sad. I worry about the little old lady at home on her own with nothing festive in her house to show that it is Christmas, feeling isolated and alone, perhaps even forgotten. Many people make donations to charities instead which is a fabulous thing to do but if we all did that, the card industry would die out completely – no work for those who design, print and deliver them. I am grateful for every card I receive and if there is a message in it as well as a signature, even better! I am also grateful for those who send me e messages and cards as I appreciate that they are thinking of me.

I understand and respect those that decide not to send cards for whatever reason, but what I don’t like is when people tell me that I shouldn’t be sending them either. We are each entitled to have our own opinion and make our own choices, and mine is to continue sending cards. I may be more selective each year, picking specific people to send to rather than everyone I know, but I will continue to send them. And when I get a little note in the post or a phone call or an e mail saying how lovely it was to receive the card and to catch up on the family news, I will know that I have done the right thing. I will have brightened someone’s day, reinforced the belief that they are thought about and cared for and made sure that none of the friends and family I have, feel isolated, alone and forgotten about.

Please continue to do what makes you happy, but also allow others to do the same and don’t make them feel guilty. We are all different, we all have individual opinions and we are all entitled to make our own choices. Or do you think differently? As always, I am interested to know!

So what are your views on Halloween? Harmless fun or something more sinister? Are you happy for children to come knocking on your door or do you switch off the lights and hide away?

When my children were little, I did get hooked into the trick or treating but it was not something I was ever comfortable with. We spend the majority of the year teaching them not to knock on doors, talk to people they don’t know or take sweets from strangers and then on the 31st of October we ignore all the advice and encourage them to do so! It makes no sense. For years they got dressed up, we carved pumpkins, decorated the outside of the house and opened the door to all and sundry, dishing out sweet treats to everyone who called. They loved it. I hated it!

As a child, Halloween was fairly insignificant. There were no pumpkins – only in the story Cinderella – there were no manufactured costumes and there was no trick or treating. Each year I remember my Dad reluctantly struggling to hollow out a turnip and carve a face in the front. String was attached to the top for carrying and a small candle was placed inside. It took him hours and was physically hard work! If we dressed up, we were cats in black leotards and tights with a tail manufactured from newspaper stuffed into a sock or white sheeted ghosts or a witch. It was all pretty harmless and very definitely home-made. There were no ghoulish face paints, blood dripping or weapons in sight apart from the occasional witch’s broomstick.

A friend once had a Halloween party which caused great excitement in our neighbourhood as none of us had been to one before. I don’t recall a great deal about it apart from attempting to eat a slice of lemon and being blindfolded for a story about Admiral Nelson which involved the unwitting participant poking a finger inside an orange to emulate an eye socket!

At school we drew witches on black sugar paper and cut them out to decorate the classroom and made witches hats. In later years as a teacher in Wales, I was banned from any Halloween decorations, stories involving witches or any scary songs. Rumour had it that the local ‘white witches’ found it upsetting and that was why a ban was in place!

I still like to wander around the neighbourhood looking at the amazing carved pumpkins on display and the decorations placed in windows and gardens but choose not to do it myself anymore. There is an unwritten rule in our neighbourhood that children are welcome to call on Halloween night at any house with a lit pumpkin outside and this seems to be followed. Those houses that remain in darkness are left well alone. It wasn’t always like that. One year many houses unlit or who refused to open the door were hit with eggs and flour, making a very sticky mess to clear up the next day. For years I dutifully bought in sweets and sometimes even dressed up to dole them out when callers came but it got to the point where there were just far too many. Not only that, we were getting teenagers call round in scary masks. Having no idea who they were, I found it quite frightening at times and can imagine elderly people feeling scared and threatened by towering unknown teenagers.

I have no objections to those wishing to celebrate as long as they follow the rules of leaving people alone if they do not wish to participate and am heartened to see that many young children are accompanied by a responsible adult, making sure they are safe and in no danger. In the darkness and excitement of the evening basic principles of crossing the road safely, being aware of potential dangers and looking after one another can easily be forgotten about.

During the pandemic Halloween was a much quieter event and many villages prefer to organise a party where the children are safe, warm and looked after indoors. Still fun but more controlled and organised. There are pros and cons for this, and for wandering around under supervision.

But what are your thoughts? Too Americanised? Too scary? Or just a little bit of harmless fun to be enjoyed by anybody who wants to participate? Let me know!

I rarely go to the doctors. I don’t like wasting their time with niff naff and trivia so if I ring and ask for an appointment, I am genuinely worried or concerned. In recent months I have tried on several occasions to see a doctor to be told by the receptionists that I can only have a telephone appointment, that it is not possible to see a doctor face- to - face. But why is this? On the rare occasion I have entered our new purpose-built spacious doctor’s surgery – I have found it to be completely empty! There is nobody there bar the receptionist and a pharmacist! If there ARE doctors there, they are hidden away behind closed doors, presumably on the phone.

The receptionists now do a triage service when you call to ask for an appointment. They ask your name and date of birth so they can bring up your records and then a series of questions to see how urgent your need is – in their opinion. You can beg, you can plead but if it doesn’t say on their tick list, then you cannot get a physical appointment.

Last week I endured yet another telephone consultation. It was two hours later than I had been told so I lost a morning’s work waiting for the call. They rang an incorrect number first before I called the surgery to ask if they had tried at all and then I was subjected to a crackly phone line. The combination of this and the Doctor having a very strong accent made understanding difficult on my part. The fact that she had obviously been on the phone for several hours before my call led to misunderstandings on her part as she had obviously been taking in a lot of information from other patients.

My call had been about some test results and some niggles which had led to those tests. I wasn’t feeling ill as such but was sufficiently concerned given my background to want to talk things through and ensure there was nothing more sinister going on. I was feeling reasonably upbeat before I started but by the time I had finished the call I was feeling anything but! Various potential diagnoses were given over the phone without basic checks taking place such as listening to my heart, blood pressure etc, hospital tests were recommended despite having just had them and the results being clear and simple statements such as I do not smoke were being recorded incorrectly. By the time I put the phone down I was emotional, frustrated, anxious and at the end of my tether. Face to face, this could have been avoided or dealt with immediately and a lot of anxiety avoided.

Two days later I decided to try again but rather than phoning to make an appointment, I went into the surgery itself. Yet again, it was completely empty. Yet again my records were brought up and I was told it was telephone consultations only. Yet again I pleaded my case only to be told no. It was only when at the end of my tether and with increasing frustration, I started to cry that the receptionist took pity on me. She told me she would do what she could to get me a face- to - face but that the Doctors were incredibly busy. In the end I was given an appointment 4 days later and 2 of those were the weekend – a faster appointment than I would have got pre pandemic!

So, my point is: if the surgeries are empty, if the doctors are on the premises and if they have time to see people within 4 days, why can patients not be offered a face-to-face appointment in the first place? Why do we have to go through an unsatisfactory difficult telephone conversation when misinterpretation and misunderstandings happen all too easily? Many symptoms go unrecognised by the patient but can be spotted by a medical profession just by looking – not something that can happen by phone., Many patients are reticent but will open up once the correct questions are asked. Many elderly patients suffer with hearing loss so crackling phone lines and tricky accents make communication almost impossible.

I am pleased to say that my face-to-face consultation put my mind at rest very quickly. Basic tests were done immediately, results explained and the way forward discussed. I felt reassured, listened to and calmer but why did I have to go through all the trauma first when it could have so easily been avoided? She also recognised that the way I had been dealt with and some of the questions I had been asked, should not have been asked or certainly not in the way they had been. So perhaps by talking about it I have helped the professional development of some new and younger doctors, making it a little easier for other patients. I was also able to check that basic records such as whether I smoked or not (which could have a big effect on treatment offered) was accurate.

I now believe that the receptionists look at your records for a specific word – priority. If that is on your records you are offered a face-to-face appointment, if it is not then no chance. It was not on my records, though should have been, but I still don’t believe that is fair. Some people prefer a phone consultation, it is easier, more convenient, more time productive – but others don’t and surely all those who want to see a doctor should be given that opportunity.

I hope that the problems my surgery appears to be experiencing can be solved soon and that life really can get back to normal. I also hope it is an isolated case, but from what I have heard, it seems many people across the country are struggling to get appointments, something we used to take for granted. It is high time that this problem was sorted once and for all.

Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth

1926 - 2022

It was a shock to hear that the Queen had passed. It seemed too sudden. I look at those last photographs now and I can see she is leaning on her walking stick. I can see she has a badly bruised hand but I don’t see a lady who was seriously ill, struggling to cope or any other signs that she was to pass away so very quickly. And I have been shocked by the emotion that I have felt. She is our Queen. I did not know her. I did not meet her and yet, I fill with tears at the many beautiful poems written about her, the images of her with Paddington Bear as he guides her on her next journey or the latest one of the back of the Queen, a corgi, a horse and her beloved husband The Duke of Edinburgh who has returned for her and is now eternally reunited with her. Why am I like so many, so deeply affected by her passing?

As I think, I realise there are several reasons and perhaps more will become clearer to me as time moves on, but perhaps the main one is that she has been a constant in my life, the only Monarch that I have ever known. Whatever age I have been, whatever has happened in my life, she has always been there – guiding the nation and leading the way. The last few years have been ones of such change: Brexit, Covid, war in Ukraine and my own health concerns and throughout it all, the Queen has been there, adapting, reassuring, supporting her public. Who can forget seeing her use Zoom for the first time, reassuring us all that we would ‘meet again’ after the pandemic, that life would return to normal and we would move on.

Whether a Royalist or not, I would assume that everyone is humbled by her devotion to her duty and her country. Thrust into a role that she had not predicted due to the abdication of her uncle and the early death of her Father, she dedicated herself to putting her country first and this she has done for a remarkable reign, the longest ever known. She has been devout and dutiful to the very end fulfilling the promise she made as a young girl. Not many of us can say that!

She was a remarkable woman – beautiful in her youth, mischievous in her dotage. Who can forget that moment during the 2012 Olympics when we saw James Bond approach the royal desk and stand waiting and waiting and waiting. And then the figure at the desk slowly turned around, saying 'Good evening Mr Bond,' and it was ‘Is that really the Queen or just a fantastic lookalike?’ This humour was to appear again at her Platinum Jubilee celebrations when at tea with Paddington Bear she reached into her infamous black bag and withdrew a marmalade sandwich with a twinkle in her eye. These glimpses of her humour made her seem like everyone’s Granny – a wicked sense of humour, a cheeky comment and an amused glint in her eye.

I admired the Queen as our sovereign, as our leader and as a woman. She was strong, forthright, loving, fun, dutiful, honest and so many other things. A role model for other young women and for myself.

And so we face another period of change – a new prime minister and a new sovereign and with all that that entails. I feel uncertain, unsure of life because she is no longer at our helm. She may have been elderly but it felt like she was invincible. The world is not the same and our life is not the same. We will go on as we always do and changes will be made that may be for the better, who knows? But in my mind we shall not see the likes of her again.

‘ King Charles said in his first speech as the new sovereign, May flights of angels sing thee to they rest.’

Thank you for your service Ma’am, for your duty and for your devotion to our country.

In Yorkshire speak (hopefully), ‘Tha’s done a reyt good job lass!’

Snail Mail

The joy of letter writing

It is World Letter Writing Day on the 1st of September. I’ve never heard of this day before but I certainly think letter writing is worth celebrating! I just love getting letters – always have done. Getting a card, or a note or a full-blown newsy letter which you can sit down with and read whenever you want is one of my favourite things.

I love hearing the clatter of the letterbox as the postman pushes through the days mail. Once upon a time I would get loads of letters, but in these days of social media, texts and e mails – a handwritten letter is getting rarer and rarer, so to find one amongst all the bills and junk mail is like winning the lottery! Texts are great, social media is quick and phone calls are lovely but it is just not the same as getting a letter. Knowing that a person has sat down and taken time to write to you, being able to read and reread particular sections, curling up in a cosy chair or in the garden with a cup of coffee and taking the time to relax as you read just cannot be beaten. In these days where everything is quick and rushed, it is a moment to savour, prolong and enjoy.

When I was young, I used to have pen friends. I had loads of them! There was a company that used to specialise in arranging penfriends. You sent in your details, hobbies and interests and these were passed on to children in different countries or you could choose which countries you wanted to correspond with. It cost money, but I would save up and send off my details with the correct amount of money and then sit and wait. If I was lucky, I would be rewarded with interesting envelopes with colourful stamps on, illegible handwriting and the chance to make some new friends. I had penfriends from all over the world – Denmark, India, Germany, Spain, Yugoslavia (as it was then), Korea, Cyprus – you name it, at some point I would have had a penfriend there! At one point I was writing to 20 at the same time and I loved it. Each night, I would sit and write a letter. Luckily, I had understanding parents who encouraged me and were happy to buy the necessary stamps. The Post Office gave me my own little stash of Airmail stickers and I collected pretty and colourful note pads and envelopes with lots of stickers to decorate the envelopes. My penfriends and I exchanged postcards and photographs, small gifts at Christmas and shared news of our daily lives.

When I went to college, I would write regularly to my parents and some school friends and during the holidays I wrote to my new college friends. We wrote each week and thought nothing of it. I now wonder how I ever found the time but it was just part of my daily life. Nowadays, I write less letters and they seem to take longer to do but I have penfriends within the WI in other parts of Britain and I write to friends from places I used to live. My cousin and I have been corresponding since we were 15 and she was in hospital. Her mum asked if I could possibly write a letter every now and again during her long stay and her recuperation to help brighten the days and give her something to do. I obliged and we just continued. We might write less frequently but we still send each other a letter every month or so. I also sponsor a child and write to them every few months. I still feel that joy when I get a response with little pictures they have drawn for me. They make me smile.

My sister used to hate writing letters and even doing a thank you note after Christmas or birthdays became a chore that she detested. Luckily for her I was happy to oblige, particularly when she offered to pay me per thank you letter I wrote on her behalf! It was a great way to earn a little bit of extra pocket money.

I now write for the charity From Me To You (details on the Rainbow friends page) and I know exactly how much a simple letter can change a person’s day. I have received one of these wonderful letters at the beginning of each month for the last 7 months. I don’t know the people who write and I don’t respond, I just enjoy the letters and the sentiments expressed in them. So, on World Letter Writing Day I aim to sit down and write a few short letters to send to the charity myself so that other people can have the joy of receiving something in the post. Something that will make them feel cared for and which will hopefully make them smile during difficult times.

The art of letter writing is becoming rare which is so sad. Think of all those wonderful letters that have been written by famous people over the decades, that give us an inkling of their lives and the era in which they lived. I doubt we will be saying the same in future generations about our texts, emails or Facebook posts! A letter is such a personal thing and a beautiful thing to be treasured.

If you are stuck for something to do on September 1st, why not write a letter to a friend or relative or even to a complete stranger for one of the charities I have written about and spread the joy of receiving news by snail mail.

New adventures and new beginnings!

When I left the teaching profession after over 30 years, I was really at a loss. Too young to be officially retired but drained, exhausted and lacking self confidence I really did not know what to do. I was so lucky that my husband was supportive. He backed my decision to leave work, he told me not to worry and he told me to get myself healthy and enjoy myself – to start living once again.

That first year, before the pandemic hit and before my cancer diagnosis, I set out to have a year of new experiences and adventures. Nothing too grand, too expensive or too daring, but just to try new things, rebuild my self-esteem, make new friends, revisit old hobbies and to realise that life was there to enjoy. I had no idea what I would end up doing but I was going to have fun trying.

The first think I did was to reintroduce walking into my daily routine. Life had been so busy when I was working that the only walking I did was actually during work time and in the work environment, so I started to go out every day. I didn’t go far, just around my village but over time I started to notice more and more. At first I was just plodding around from start to finish, but then I started noticing the wildlife around me, the changing of the seasons, the feel of the different types of weather – it was as if my body and mind were coming alive again. I made friends with the village cats, chatted to residents I had never seen before, discovered hidden paths and stiles and allowed myself the time to clear my brain and to enjoy just ‘being.’ When the pandemic hit, I ventured further and extended my time to fill the daily hour of exercise we were allowed outside and mostly I have managed to keep up with that.

My adventures included going to an ice rink for the first time in years and being taught how to spin, taking up the couch to 5km jogging and achieving it (though it took a while) and catching up with friends I hadn’t seen in many years. Hubby kicked off my year of new adventures and beginnings with a trip to London and going to the theatre, a passion of mine, and weekend visits to places such as Morpeth, Robin Hood’s Bay and Gretna Green. Each one had new places to visit and explore, new experiences to have and created lots of new and happy memories.

I took up baking again with mixed success, had a go at chapatti making under the expert guidance of a helpful neighbour and went for a chocolate tasting session which ended up with me getting a new job - a job that many people are envious of since I get to eat various delights for two mornings a week at a local confectionary company! (I’m often asked, ‘Does that job really exist?’ and I can assure you it does!) Another friend took me to a felting workshop and I made a beautiful felt blue tit keyring– not something I ever thought I would be able to do and I took up making fragranced candles and wax melts. That led me to attending a variety of craft fairs which although I found difficult, made me talk to new people and increase my self confidence.

At my WI, instead of hiding in the background, when volunteers were asked for, I made myself stand up! This led me to try Japanese drumming, hand bell ringing and wreath making to name but a few of my new experiences.

Not all new experiences were fun at the time. Finding myself locked in my car in Tesco carpark was a new adventure and not one I wanted to repeat. I had no idea how I had done it and was desperate to visit the ladies room! But thankfully these adventures were few and far between.

When the pandemic hit, new adventures weren’t really possible. We were just existing and getting through each day, not knowing quite what each day would bring and then when I was ill, just getting through the day was enough for quite some time. But now, now I am ready to get out there and restart my adventures. I want to live each day to the full and pack in as much as possible. I know that life can be mundane at times but I want to try harder to take the opportunities on offer as and when I can, to not be afraid to try something new and to appreciate each day.

Too many of us get stuck in the rhythm of daily life. We get up, see to the children, the house, the pets, go to work, return home, cook tea, watch TV, go to bed. Every day can be the same as the one before with no respite and that isn’t good for any of us. If I’ve learned one thing over the last year it is to make time for some fun. So I urge you all to set your own challenges and goals for new adventures and experiences or to revisit some old ones that have been pushed to the side-lines. Life can be tough at times so don’t we all deserve a little bit of me time every now and again? A time to have fun, to chill, to relax, to enjoy and to be free from the worries of daily life!

Enjoy every moment and let me know what new adventures you are having so that I can start a new list of my own!

Are you an Eeyore or a Pollyanna?

Even with the cancer I’ve managed somehow (and I honestly can’t tell you how) to see the positives some of the time. I was asked if I felt unlucky to have had it but actually I don’t. I feel surprisingly lucky. Lucky that they found it, lucky that it has been dealt with and lucky that I am feeling so much better. (But I do have my fingers crossed at that point!) I am more aware of being grateful – grateful to wake up in the morning feeling pretty good, grateful for being able to walk around the village, go to the shops, meet with friends, grateful for the friends I have who have supported me on my journey. There is just so much to feel grateful and thankful for. I struggled to see a doctor and almost gave up which would have made my situation so much worse, so how lucky am I to have a friend who bullied me into persisting until I was seen and the problem was found? My cancer story could have been so very different and much less hopeful.

So now I try to be a Pollyanna wherever possible – to see the best in people and in life. Mentally it makes me feel lighter and brighter so it has to be a good thing. I suspect we will always have our Eeyore moments and that is ok as long as it doesn’t take over. The pandemic has made many of us think differently and to feel grateful for what we have. When restrictions and lockdowns were fully imposed, we lost our freedom, the company of our friends and our normal lives for quite some time, our ability to make our own decisions, our freedom to go where we wanted to and when we wanted to. We could all have turned into Eeyores then but the majority didn’t, revelling in the quiet roads, time to be at home with family, to slow down, to notice the birds singing, the flowers growing and other simple pleasures. It made us lead our lives in a very different way. It wasn’t a great thing to happen to the world but there are positives to be found if we look hard enough.

I know some people are leading very difficult lives at the moment and worries can overcome us all, but every now and again, trying to twist the situation and turn it from a negative to a positive can help our mental health. So I am going to try to stick with being a Pollyanna for as much as I can. Hopefully you can too.

Dame Deborah James

Bowelbabe

1/10/1981 – 28/6/2022

Deborah was 35 when she was diagnosed with stage 4 bowel cancer. She was a hard working Head teacher, marathon runner, ex gymnast, vegetarian and a lover of life. She’d had some symptoms but put them down to stress and working too hard. She described bowel cancer as an ‘old man’s disease’ – she didn’t fit the usual categories – but cancer it was. Known as Bowelbabe, Deborah began a blog covering her experiences and a column in The Sun newspaper entitled ‘Things cancer made me say.’ She also began recording the BBC podcast You, me and the Big C with two other cancer sufferers and earned the reputation of asking the questions others dared not!

Throughout it all, the unpleasant treatment and the many operations, Deborah aimed to continue living life to the full, sharing her joy and vivacity with all those around her. Dressed in sparkles, wearing her make up and dancing, even during her IV treatments, she enthused life and put many of us to shame. She was told that she was unlikely to reach her 40th birthday, but she did. She saw her two children begin secondary school and she was able to spend time with her family to whom she was incredibly close.

When she was told that there was nothing more to be done, Deborah didn’t resign herself to the quiet life but threw herself into finishing her second book, continuing to make broadcasts when she felt able to and launching the Bowelbabe fund. Her aim was to raise £250,00 to be shared between Cancer Research UK, Bowel Cancer UK and the Royal Marsden hospital where she had been treated but in only 24 hours the fund topped £1 million! With donations, pre sales of her second book which has topped the best seller list before becoming available, pre sales of a clothing line she helped design, a rose in her name, a bag chosen specially for her and the rebellious hope t shirt line, the fund currently sits at £7 million an amazing achievement for anybody, but incredible for somebody receiving end of life palliative care and achieved in a matter of just months.

Dame Deborah worked with Lorraine Kelly on the No Butts campaign and shared her experiences to raise awareness of bowel cancer, to break down the British barriers of being ashamed/shy of talking about poo, to challenge taboos and to change the conversations we have about cancer. She lived life to the full, she embraced opportunities and encouraged us all – fellow sufferers, survivors and those living with cancer sufferers to do the same.

So what happened today?

My diaries cannot be compared to the importance of that belonging to Anne Frank or others who endured life under the Occupation, but they are a record of my life and the things that have affected me. I may yet destroy my diaries to prevent others from reading them, they are not grammatically correct or literary wonders but they are a record of changing times, momentous events and part of me. I am certain that I will continue filling my diaries as they are part of my daily routine but I hope that there are no more ‘special’ ones and I hope that my cancer diary will soon be complete, with the words, ‘You are now cancer free.’ That will be a very special moment …. to be recorded in my other diary of course!

Jubilant Jubilee

Happy Jubilee Weekend! Have you been celebrating? Or have you hidden yourselves away, avoiding anything to do with the Jubilee?

I’m a bit in the middle really. I like the Royal Family and think they are a great asset for our country – or at least I like most of them. Some annoy me intensely but those that are obviously working hard, supporting charities and boosting Great Britain, bringing in tourism and promoting British brands, get my backing. I like to see the royal family make their balcony appearance. I like to admire their beautiful clothes, their perfect hair and glittering jewellery, and I like to see them talking to and interacting with everyday people. But on the other hand, I am not really into joining big village events, sitting in a park with lots of people that I don’t really know having a picnic or BBQ. I’m not trying to be a stick in the mud, I just don’t particularly enjoy stuff like that. I would rather do something that makes me feel relaxed and happy.

I am in awe of our Queen. She is a remarkable lady. Whether you are a Royalist or anti Royal, hopefully most people can appreciate that this lady, who was not originally destined to become Queen, has spent the last 70 years serving her country. At 96 years old and in declining health, she still attends the events that she is able to, meets and greets dignitaries and ordinary folk and is still on top of everything that is happening in her country. To achieve 70 years and to still be working is certainly showing her dedication to her country. Not many of us will be able to say the same thing.

So, however, you choose to celebrate the Jubilee, or even if you choose not to, I hope that you will still raise a glass to a remarkable lady who continues to serve with dignity. I am not sure we will see her like again.

This weekend is a great moment in history – enjoy it whichever way you want to!

Are you a thinker, an overthinker or a binge thinker?

I’ve frequently been told that I am an overthinker. I don’t agree. I am most definitely a thinker. I don’t like to rush decisions, I like to think things through, consider them and then deal with stuff, but to me that isn’t overthinking, it is being sensible, reliable and responsible. If I didn’t think at all I would be pretty useless or uncaring, if I didn’t think things through fully, I might make a silly mistake or cause upset or not do my job properly and if I was overthinking, then my whole life would be one long period of worrying. It is not! I do, however, have my moments!!

I recently read an article in my daily newspaper that made me think. It was describing ‘binge thinkers’ and this struck a chord with me. There have been times when I have struggled – struggled to make sense of something that has happened or been said, struggled to sleep or struggled to move on. If I can’t do those, then my anxieties can take over for a while and make it difficult to be happy and enjoy life.

Life is stressful at times for everyone. We have the usual problems to face with work, family and friends, but we are also dealing with the after effects of a 2-year pandemic, a rising cost of living and war in Ukraine. It is a lot for anybody to be dealing with and combined with other events such as illness or employment worries, life can seem very uncertain. Recent research has shown that 3 out of 4 women, worry far too much and it is affecting their lives to a huge degree. It also found that 73% of women have experienced what is known as ‘binge thinking’, a time when they have felt totally overwhelmed by their thoughts and it has affected their wellbeing. Apparently, if you ever get to the stage where you feel unable to control your thoughts or stop your mind from worrying over stuff, then you are binge thinking. This is something I can recognise at various points in my life. The what ifs … what if I had acted this way, said this, had behaved differently – stuff you can’t change because it is done but you keep going over and over in your head to try to make sense of it.

Binge thinking causes intense worry and anxiety, stops you from sleeping, leaves you struggling to concentrate and makes you feel as though you are stuck in a loop that you cannot get out of. That’s not good for our general health or our mental health, so recognising the problem is a huge thing and enables you to take steps to deal with it.

Official advice suggests giving yourself a reality check when things become overwhelming. Have all your previous worries actually happened, or just existed in your head? Are there current worries that you can write off as unlikely to happen? You could also ask yourself; will the current worry matter in 6 months’ time? Can you remember what you were worrying about 6 months ago? If not, then perhaps those are things that you can also let go.

Writing worries down can make them feel less threatening and make your head feel lighter. Even more so if you can then rip up the paper, put it in the bin or flush it away. There is a tremendous release in being able to do this and watching the pieces disappear.

There is also the importance of feeding your brain with the right fuel to deal with all your concerns. Eating well can help you feel better and keep your brain working well. We are advised to eat healthy fats to enable this which are found in olive oil, nuts, seeds, oily fish, avocados, milk and eggs.

Talking to a family member or trusted friend can also be a huge help. Remember the old adage ‘A problem shared is a problem halved?’ Talking things through helps you to focus on specific worries, organise them into structured thoughts and make sense of them. A friend may be able to offer some helpful advice or support which automatically makes things easier for you and lightens the load. Bottling everything up is not healthy for anyone.

There are many things you can do to help when your thoughts get you down, but we all need to recognise when we need to do this and learn how to do it to avoid the overthinking or binge thinking that affects us so much. If you have any other suggestions or advice that you think might help someone else, please send it in – we can all do with a little extra help every now and again.

The Merry Merry Month of Magical May!

I was surprised this week when the group of children I was working with had no idea why they had an extra day off at the weekend. May Day meant nothing to them. They had no knowledge of previous customs and celebrations which seemed rather sad to me. I remember watching my own children being taught maypole dancing – the intricate weaving of ribbons to make patterns, the intense concentration on their faces as they remembered which way to face, when to turn etc, but even then, little was made of this celebration and the beauty of the environment around them at this time.

May Day celebrates the mid-point between spring and summer, the beauty of nature unfolding after the long harsh winter and the promise of warmer weather and better times ahead. As the flowers and trees start to blossom, it is also believed to be a time of love and romance. Traditionally May Day was the day that farmers moved their animals to their summer pastures and a procession, starting with sheep, then cattle, goats and horses would be accompanied by singing, dancing and feasting.

In the forest we are surrounded by greenery which has appeared in the last 3 weeks and the bluebells are beginning to emerge – a true sign of May to me. When the sun shines through the leaves it makes everything seem magical. Sitting or lying in the hammock, gazing at the blue sky and listening to the birds is calming. In our work we teach the children to notice what is around them, to enjoy everything the forest has to offer and it is incredible at times what they see and we as adults miss - a tiny caterpillar on a branch, a single flower, a bunch of fungi were this week’s treasures, and they learn to treat these carefully, with respect, leaving them to grow and flourish for other people to enjoy. Having a child shout that I have to see something, or being taken by the hand to inspect one of these hidden treasures is a magical moment.

As we enter May this year, we have been blessed in Yorkshire with beautiful weather and it seems to have given everybody a lift. People seem more relaxed, calmer, more at peace. They smile as you pass by and exchange simple greetings – it is as if we are slowly emerging from a dark time into something brighter. With everything that has happened over the last couple of years it seems like we are becoming more hopeful, getting back to normal and the merry month of May is beginning to work its magic. We are starting to look forward, plan outings and holidays, meet up with people and spend time working in our gardens. Life is more colourful, with gardens springing into life, outdoor furniture being washed down and the smell of BBQs wafting through the air.

As the weather improves, we are spending more of our time outdoors too, enjoying and benefiting from the fresh air, the warming sun and the sights, sounds and smells of springtime. It is a boost to our physical health and our mental health too. So in this magical month, let’s make the most of those brighter days, enjoy being with family and friends and bring the joys of May inside our homes too by following some of those traditional May Day customs, when flowering branches were used to decorate the home to celebrate the coming of summer. Or, wander through a forest near you and absorb the magical sight of a bluebell carpet, the wafting of wild garlic aromas and the bright yellow happy sunshine effect of celandines – it will lift your mood and spirts as you emerge yourself in the natural beauty around you.

And if you are in the mood, try washing your face in the early morning dew. Thought to be magical and with powers to improve your looks, the dew from the hawthorn, ivy or from beneath oak trees were believed to be especially good! It might not be able to work miracles, but it will certainly be refreshing and invigorating and make your skin feel alive!

The sun is shining - it must be Spring!

I like things about all the different seasons but find spring is particularly uplifting. After the long cold and frequently miserable winter weather, that unexpected dose of sunshine and dash of blue skies really helps pick up my mood and brighten my day. We never quite know what the weather is going to do but that is part of the charm of spring to me – April showers, some beautiful hard frosts and blue skies and then that burst of sun and warmth which has everyone searching their cupboards for something suitable to wear, having been well wrapped up in thick woolly jumpers for too long.

Spring is the time to get out in the garden and tidy up ready for replanting. It is time to wash winter fleeces and bedding and hang it out on the line to dry. It is time to look forward to all that the year has to offer.

I’ve been getting more interested in mindfulness and living in the moment recently. When I was working more hours there was never enough time. I dashed from place to place and didn’t have time to either notice or appreciate the changes that were happening in the environment around me. The daffodils and tulips came and went with me barely noticing them, the blossom had fallen from the trees before I had a chance to admire it and the birds made their nests, had their young and had flown by the time it registered with me.

Now I have time to see, smell, touch, hear and taste all the changes that are happening around me. I walk around my village each day and spot something different every time. A patch of wild garlic, a beautiful double headed daffodil, pink cherry blossom and leaves just beginning to unfurl. It has made me realise how wonderful nature is. One minute the trees are brown and bare – the next there are buds and lush green leaves just beginning to show. There is a constancy to it which is comforting. The leaves will grow, the trees will become green, the plants will flower and our gardens, hedgerows and pathways will be a blaze of colour for several months before the seasons begin to change once more.

I find now that I notice different birdsongs, though I can’t as yet identify them. I spot a new patch of wild flowers that have opened up overnight and notice the patterns and textures of the different tree trunks - things that I have never noticed before. A tree is a tree and they are all the same is what I thought, but when you look closely that couldn’t be further from the truth! There are diamonds, whorls and stripes, different shades of brown, rough trunks and smooth trunks, obvious roots or hidden roots … each is an individual. And when you look even closer there are insects to spot, fungi to find and nests to discover.

My kittens often sit observing an insect they have found – ants being a particular favourite. They sit for ages, completely still, just observing the flurry of activity in front of them. I’ve tried copying them and realise that those few minutes of absolute focus, when you clear your mind of all the junk, worries, duties etc to just watch a tiny ant in its endeavours, are incredibly important for our mental health. It is a recharge of the batteries. It helps to put things into focus and it helps your mind to stop fretting for a few vital minutes, giving your brain a chance to switch off and relax.

This is my form of meditation - a slow stroll through the village – looking and listening. I’ve learned so much more about the world around me by doing this but more importantly I have given myself a chance to escape my worries, clear my head of all the thoughts milling around and have the opportunity to live in the moment: the here and now. Perhaps this is something we should all be doing at some point each day to lead happier, healthier and more grateful lives. We are so blessed to live in such beautiful surroundings.

Mums always tell the truth don’t they?

There was a lovely piece in our paper recently about Mum tricks – the things mums do to trick their children. Apparently in the top 25 Mum sins are: pretending to watch TV with a child but scrolling through your phone instead, eating their chocolate when they are at school and raiding piggy banks for loose change! I must admit to helping myself to the occasional bit of leftover Easter egg/Christmas chocolate when desperation struck but I dutifully sat through reams and reams of children’s TV programmes without complaint and any change I borrowed was replaced.

I know of one mother who told her children that when the ice cream van played its tune, it meant they had run out of ice cream. How wicked! Others have been known to have a secret stash of chocolate biscuits and sweets to indulge in when the children have gone to bed, even though the children are told that they are ‘bad for them.’

The study in the paper was commissioned by Frankie and Benny’s who found that the average mum commits four ‘sins’ every week and that 95% of them said it was entirely necessary to keep them sane!

I think my biggest failing as a mother, (apart from the smarties!) involved trips to the cinema. Every time I took my children to see an animated film, I would fall asleep. I’d see the adverts and the trailers and possibly the first 5 minutes of the film and then be totally out cold. The first time it happened my children were mortified but after that they came to expect it. As the lights came up, they would wake me up and we would make our way home. I saw the beginning of many films but hadn't a clue what happened. I’d be told all sorts of things such as ‘WALL-E’ talks ( he apparently utters one word somewhere in the film) and that David Hasselhoff appeared in Spongebob. I’d have to google it when I got home to see if they were telling me the truth or not.

Despite the fact I was paying around £5 a time to see a film I then slept through, it was the best £5 I spent as I would get a couple of hours of much needed sleep!

And when I think about it, I was brought up on Mum tricks too – I was told to eat carrots to have good eyesight (I love raw carrots and have terrible eyesight), eat crusts to get lovely curly hair (I resorted to perms in the 80s) and to eat my greens to grow big and strong (I didn’t eat anything green for a very long time and was still the tallest in my class by far!) So there is nothing new about Mum tricks and Mum sins, they just adapt to the era we are living in.

What mum sins do you employ? I would love to know.

When the pandemic hit, we saw an outpouring of community kindness and it made the world such a nicer, less scary place to live. Many communities came together to look after the vulnerable, to offer support and reassurance and friendship. It created a warm, loving and kind bubble where the majority of people came together to make the world a better place. We are seeing it again with the generosity of people donating goods to Ukraine and opening their homes for refugees, the kindness being shown and the willingness to offer help is humbling.

And yet, I do actually believe it is possible to be too kind. Taking the blame for something because you are protecting a friend or someone you love, allowing people to treat you badly because you don’t want to upset them by retaliating or accepting shoddy behaviour and services because you don’t want to cause a fuss and make someone else feel bad are perhaps examples of this. I’ve made mistakes but I hope that I always apologise when I do, I certainly try to. But I’ve also made mistakes by not standing up for myself because of the reasons above and I need to tell myself that being kind does not mean being a doormat!

So perhaps my Headteacher was correct all along and it is possible to be too kind. I shall still aim to be kind to those I encounter because that is the way I want to be, but perhaps I also need to be kind to myself which I am not very good at!

I attended an online lecture recently by Dr Kelli Harding on ‘Feel Better with Kindness’ (through www.actionforhappiness.org) She was clear that evidence shows how we are treated and how we treat others affects our general health and that a positive connection of kindness reduces stress, pain, anxiety and blood pressure whilst boosting our immune system. As such, we all have an opportunity to improve our health through our actions towards others. She also stipulated that kindness is the ultimate strength. If you can treat people with dignity even though they have hurt you, then you are showing incredible kindness and if we can contribute kindness to others, we are also ultimately being kind to ourselves.

What do you think? Is it possible to be too kind or something we should all strive to be?

Send in your thoughts via the contact page or @KathRainbowSkies I would love to know.

You can never have too many books.

Just not enough shelves!

I have stacks of books, I always have. As a child I was never without a book to hand. I collected sets: Famous Five, Secret Seven, Mallory Towers - anything I could get my hands on. I saved my pocket money and thought nothing of using it all on buying more books and this has continued throughout my life. I am loathe to get rid of any. It is only recently that I have started donating to charities, filling our local telephone box exchange or passing them on to other people and that is only due to necessity and only certain books can go: books that I am unlikely to read again or that I haven’t enjoyed as much as others, or are duplicates.

In reality, I have so many books waiting to be read that I am unlikely to ever re read any of them again but as a child I read and re read my collection until I could recite the stories without looking at the words. My Dad used to tease me that I should go on Mastermind with The Famous Five as my specialist subject because I knew the stories inside out. There was less choice then of course, less availability so I looked after my books carefully and still do. I am loathe to lend them to others because I have seen how they treat a book – bending the spines, turning the corners, marking passages – sacrilege to a true book lover! If I lend you a book it is with strict instructions on how to look after it properly and you are honoured.

I currently have shelves groaning with books that I have read, boxes in the loft (to the point that my ceiling is bowed) and even more piled up ready to read. At my bedside there are usually at least two physical books on the go and a kindle loaded with even more. There just aren’t enough hours in the day to read them all and yet I still cannot resist buying more when I see them: the next in a series, the latest by one of my favourite authors or just one whose cover intrigues me. I can’t stop myself. It is an addiction. I see a book. I like the look of the book. I have to have the book!

March 3rd is World Book Day, its 25th anniversary - a day when children of all ages come together to share the joy of reading for pleasure. It has been proven that spending as little as 10 minutes a day sharing stories with children can make an incredible difference to their future success. Children are given a £1 voucher which they can use to purchase special books produced for World Book Day or put towards buying another book of their choice. Schools host reading events, encourage children to dress up as their favourite characters, invite parents in to share books and provide a host of other exciting activities.

I always enjoyed World Book Day as a teacher and a parent, but for me it was not necessary to have a special day to promote the power of stories. My children were surrounded by books from birth – cloth books, bath books, board books, picture books, any kind of books that were available. We had story time any time of day and I would often sit reading one after the other enjoying the obvious delight in my children’s faces. When I was teaching, pre National Curriculum, we enjoyed a variety of stories and genres, the last half hour of each day dedicated to reading, listening and calming the children down before they returned home. It was a lovely way to end the day enjoyed by teacher, pupils and parents. On sunny days I would take the class outside and we would sit or lie under a huge horse chestnut tree on the school field.

Favourite books were read frequently but the children enjoyed being introduced to new stories, new worlds and new adventures.

I still love escaping into a different world, imagining the events in my head as I read and I just cannot imagine a world without books.

I’m a member of a small book club and we read a diverse range of books covering numerous different genres. Some of them I have loved. Some of them I have hated. Some of them I have struggled to finish. But I have been introduced to new authors and new genres that I would never have discovered otherwise. I have read a much wider range of books than I would choose myself and I have found that even though a book might not be entirely to my liking, there is usually something in it that has made me think.

Looking back over the years it is hard to choose which books have shaped my life but there have been some memorable ones. As a young child I devoured anything Enid Blyton wrote and loved the tales by Laura Ingalls Wilder. The Diary of Anne Frank had a profound effect on me and visiting the secret annexe where she and her family hid for so long was an emotional, inspiring and thought-provoking time. As a teenager I moved into the realms of Jackie Collins, Shirley Conran and Barbara Taylor Bradford – all blockbusters (or bonk busters as they were known!) but there was little choice for young teenagers at the time. As an adult I have a penchant for stories about the second world war, the Resistance movement and the SOE – a little more sophisticated!

What would be my ideal day? Curled up on a comfy sofa, fluffy blanket, hot drink, some of my favourite chocolate, a cat and a good book. Nothing can beat it!

Check out the Rainbow Readers page for some inspiration on what to read next and please send me your own book recommendations via the Contact Us page.

Sorry, I didn't quite catch that!

Pre pandemic I used to swim at least twice a week at a local pool and although at first I hated the cold, the inconvenience of changing, wet hair etc, it became a habit and I built up my lengths bit by bit. So when the pandemic hit and the pools closed down, I really missed my visits!

A couple of weeks ago my husband and I treated ourselves to a weekend away, stopping in a rather posh hotel with its own tiny swimming pool and jacuzzi. What excitement! Packing my swimming costume into the suitcase, I couldn’t wait to have a dip. The reality of fitting into my costume hit in the changing rooms – two years of lockdown eating and lack of exercise had made a difference – so changing delicately and elegantly was not really a possibility! (It’s at times like that you notice how many mirrors there are in changing rooms, not what you want to see.) However, I finally succeeded, made my way to the pool and entered slowly into the water.

It was heaven! Bath temperature, quiet and so welcome after the long break – the height of luxury. I’d just about forgotten how to swim but pootled about the pool, enjoying the freedom of the water and thinking how lucky I was. It was only later, as I got changed that I noticed my hearing wasn’t great, I was going a little bit deaf in one ear. It started intermittently which was quite amusing to begin with, but by the following morning, I was totally deaf and in pain.

As the days progressed, I found I was missing conversations, couldn’t hear my alarm clock, the doorbell or the telephone and I was struggling to make sense of situations. It hit me then, how hard it must have been through the pandemic for those with hearing difficulties. Most of us have felt isolated at some point, but not to be able to hear and not to be able to lipread due to the mask wearing rules must have made things so much worse. I have been frustrated by my inability to hear and having to explain everywhere I go ‘Can you please speak up I am currently deaf’ or making sure I am standing so that I can pick things up with my left ear. Being part of a group conversation but not being able to pick up everything that is said, left one of my friends emailing me later to ask if I was ok as I had been very quiet. The truth was I couldn’t hear half of what was going on, particularly in a busy coffee shop and it left me feeling very isolated. I'd heard the saying that you can be 'lonely in a crowd,' and now I understood what it meant! Asking for advice at the pharmacist (another occasion when I was unable to be seen by a Doctor!), I was suddenly bombarded by the noise of a cleaning machine that was switched on as I was trying to listen to him, completely drowning out the helpful advice he was giving me. (Incidentally, I didn’t know that pharmacists were willing to listen and offer advice on various medical situations, so a useful tip there.)

There has been a lot of publicity recently about making sign language an officially recognised language and I am inclined to think that this is a great idea and should be taught in schools to help include all those with hearing impairments of some kind. The actress Rose Ayling-Ellis and her recent successful (and incredible) stint on 'Strictly Come Dancing' has done wonders to bring the deaf community into the spotlight and to show just what can be achieved given half the chance. Other TV shows such as 'The Bay' and 'Casualty' have used hearing impaired characters to raise awareness and make us all think of the difficulties those with a hearing issue face daily. 'Casualty' even had episodes showing the viewer what it was like to live in their deaf character's world, using sign language and sub titles to tell the story and who could forget Rose and Giovanni's silent moment in their couple's choice dance? If we all learned a little sign language, would that not make things so much easier?

At the time of writing, I am still deaf though it appears to be easing and hopefully I will be hearing fully again sometime soon. I am lucky, it is (hopefully) not a permanent situation. I HATE being deaf but if nothing else it has given me a little understanding and much more empathy for those that are permanently so. Let’s hope that by getting rid of face masks and teaching some basic signing – life can improve a little more for the deaf and hard of hearing community.

And as for swimming – I now think I might be best avoiding the pool for a little while longer!

Wilt thou be mine?

What’s your view on Valentine’s Day?

Do you consider it a commercial venture to take as much money from the consumer as possible or do you see it as a day to declare your abiding love for someone you truly care about?

I’m a bit mixed really. I would hope that my partner and I would show our love every day and in that way we don’t need a special day, but in other ways, isn’t it nice to receive a card on Valentine’s day itself? I’ve received a card every year since we met bar one and when his mother found out, he was given a stern talking to. It never happened again! She was appalled but I never thought to ask her at the time if she received a card each year on February 14th.

We occasionally give small gifts/tokens and they are lovely to receive but to be honest, as long as I get my card I am happy.

I well remember my very first one. I was ten years old and found a card slipped into my desk in the Junior 4 classroom, my last year at primary school. A bright pink envelope and a card with a cute comic daisy on the front. I was chuffed! Not being the prettiest in the class, or the most popular I didn’t think I would be singled out to receive such an honour and be the envy of my friends. My suitor did spoil it rather though by signing his name on the bottom, in full – surname and all!! No mystery or fun guessing who my secret admirer was there.

In Wales, young men would give their beloved a Welsh love spoon, carved in their spare time or on long sea journeys. These beautiful spoons were carved from a single piece of wood and incorporated a number of designs, each representing a specific meaning: links unite the maker with his intended, a horseshoe represented luck and a peacock represented fertility. Anchors, bells, hearts and initials were also very popular. There is a fabulous display of love spoons at The National Museum at St Fagans in Wales, incorporating both modern and traditional spoons. After living in Wales for a number of years, I too was given one by my husband as a reminder of our years spent there - something I treasure.

I’ve been the lucky recipient of single red roses, bunches of flowers, meals out etc but the gift I treasure the most cost nothing except time and reminds me of the love spoons that were carved hundreds of years ago. It is a wooden window frame with a heart that my own admirer carved for me one year – his own representation of the traditional Welsh gift. Made with thought, love and care - who could ask for anything more romantic?

But I am also a believer (not necessarily an active follower!) that we should also love ourselves so perhaps this Valentine’s Day, whether we are in a relationship or not, we should all go out and treat ourselves to flowers, chocolate or whatever we fancy – because we all deserve a treat sometimes! 

It’s a strange practice really, deciding on the first day of the year what you will or will not do, setting targets that might not actually be achievable and assuming that the willpower you have on day 1 of the year will be maintained for another 364!

I used to make resolutions – the usual ones – lose weight, eat less chocolate, save money, run a marathon etc . I started off determined, but I more often than not ended up as one of the 80% that break all their good intentions by the first week in February. Motivation disappears, enthusiasm becomes non existent and the lure of all those left over Christmas chocolates becomes too strong to ignore. (It would be an awful waste not to eat them really!) It would seem that only 8% of those making any resolutions actually achieve their goals by the close of the year.

New Year Resolutions date back over 4,000 years to ancient Babylon, when promises were made to the Gods to pay debts and return any borrowed items. (Take note any of you who have an overdue library book.) This continued into Ancient Rome but with Julius Caesar introducing a new calendar, January 1st became the all-important date..

This year I haven’t made any resolutions. After the disruption of 2021 with Covid restrictions and illness preventing me from doing a great deal, this year I have just decided to take each day as it comes and do the best I can on that particular day. (Those with long term or debilitating illnesses will appreciate that sometimes just getting through the day is a major achievement!) There are things I would like to do: be more confident and braver, believe in myself more and regain my strength and stamina, be kind and understanding to those around me and to make the most of each day if I can. What I also need to resolve is: not to download anymore online courses until I have completed the ones I have (last count about 6), not to buy every book I take a liking too as there are already too many on the shelf waiting to be read and not to beat myself up for eating leftover Christmas chocolate (after all it has iron in it and I was suffering from iron deficiency anaemia for a while!)

I doubt that I will succeed in those three but I can but try!

What resolutions have you made?

When I left the teaching profession, I was at an all-time low. I had lost myself. My children no longer needed me to look after them and my husband was busy with work. Suddenly I had no specific reason to get up in the mornings. I forgot how to smile. I forgot how to enjoy life. I lacked drive and energy and purpose. It was an alien feeling as I had been used to being busy, active and energetic.

The pandemic and the various restrictions that entailed reinforced those feelings and then an unexpected health diagnosis hit even harder taking me on a different path completely.

The Maya Angelou quote ('Be the rainbow in someone else’s cloud') resonated with me. I knew that there were many people out there who were finding life tough and realised that this was perhaps a way I could help. I could become a virtual friend offering support, encouragement or activity suggestions , someone to chat to without fear of recrimination or judgement (it is often easier to talk to a complete stranger), someone to just be there. I wanted to be the rainbow in someone else’s cloud. And by being that rainbow I was ultimately helping myself.

The rainbow has always symbolised hope and we all need some hope in our lives.

And as for skies, well the skies are the limit! Who knows what we can achieve with a little help from family, friends and even complete strangers as I have found myself over recent months? I have my own rainbow friends (many of whom live a long way away) who have been incredible this year in supporting me through my current journey. I have thanked them many times, but they may never fully know what that support has meant to me on my darkest days. They have listened to my moans and fears, jollied me along and seen me through to the next day. I shall be forever grateful to them.

And that is what I would like to do for others - be a virtual friend to anyone who needs it, being there (via this website) so that people never feel alone. Along the way I shall be improving my writing skills, pushing myself to do new things and being brave enough to share my thoughts and opinions - a big step for a shy lady of a certain age!

Maya Angelou also wrote ‘Every storm runs out of rain.’ It may not seem it at the time, but we can find a way through difficult times if we all support each other. If we are kind, encouraging and there for each other, we can overcome and achieve anything.

We can all be Rainbow Friends. The sky is the limit!

1st January 2022

A NEW YEAR, A NEW WAY OF THINKING

I have never been one to celebrate New Year. It is the one night of the year when despite being a night owl, I want to go to bed, shut my eyes and fall into a deep sleep. I've always found it rather sad to be saying goodbye to a year and moving forward, a little older each time and usually having not achieved many of the things I thought I would. However, I dutifully stay up late, raise my glass on the stroke of midnight, say Happy New Year to family around me, and then head straight off to bed where I am usually then awake for a number of hours!

This year is going to be different! It’s been a tough year with Covid disrupting our lifestyles and curtailing our freedom. I’ve missed spending time with friends and family, visiting places and participating in events. Add to that my unexpected health issues: feeling unwell, medical investigations, major surgery and chemotherapy – it is safe to say that this has not been the best or the easiest of years.

But when I take time to think about it, there have also been many positives this year and for that I am truly grateful. My cancer was found and dealt with promptly, I am recovering well, I have my immediate family around me, I have good friends who have supported me and I am looking to the future. Having cancer makes you think – what if …? What if I don’t do all those things I have wanted to do? What if I don’t visit all those places I’ve always wanted to visit? See the friends I haven’t seen for years? Push myself to achieve?

I have suddenly became aware that I am not immortal. If I want to achieve things, I need to get on with it! I need to be braver, more adventurous, less bothered about what other people think. I need to enjoy life to the full and I need to make the most of every day as those days are not infinite.