First of all I really want to say my honest and heartfelt thanks to those people who asked for my password recently, read that post and left words of support. I don’t mind telling you that Mrs Blubber McBlubberton here shed a few tears at your kind words and knowing that I have that support means a great deal to me.

This kind of segues very neatly into the fact that Slamdunks has handed me the Honest Scrap Award, meaning that I should list 10 honest facts about myself:

1. (And relating to what I said above): When I write I tend to ’speak’ with a free voice. In the real world I’m an introvert who could probably do with extended therapy sessions because when trouble strikes I retreat even further into my shell, instead of doing what I should do – reaching out to others for support.

2. Again relating to my opening paragraph, I cry at the drop of a hat. I can’t help it and I sometimes think it’s almost at the ‘disability’ stage. I cry at the happy and I cry at the sad. The phrase: ‘Stop it or I’ll really give you something to cry about’ was bandied about in my direction more than once in my childhood and could, maybe, go some way to explaining ‘truths’ 1 and 2 here.

3. I’m highly empathic. I can usually tell what people are really feeling, despite their outer veneer, and if they’re troubled and they’re people I care about, I’ll worry. If I really, really care about them I may even end up as described in point 2 above – blubbering again!

4. I’m too concerned with what others think of me. If people don’t like me for some unknown reason, I wish I could say that it’s their tough luck. In reality I worry that I’ve done something wrong and think that maybe I should alter the way I am.

OK let’s get off the psychotherapy session…

5. I found English easy as a subject at school, did well at exams despite sometimes minimal effort and have won prizes for my writing. I once wrote a book – just to prove to myself that I could. Pre stroke I was also a frequent contributor to the ‘Letters’ page of our local paper and gained some notoriety for my punchy text and sharp wit. (Or did I mishear that and they were really saying ‘purely wet’ and ’sharp twit’).

6. I’ve always been an environmentalist and worked for a period at a conservation trust. Despite this, the modern-day breed of environmentalists (evangelists who have recently converted) tend to irritate me with their single minded and unquestioning thinking that too often translates as demeaning and bullying of those who simply don’t agree with them.

7. I met my husband at school youth club when I was 14 and it was literally a case of ~Wham!~ love at first site. We split for a while after a few years during which time I dated other men, even becoming engaged to another love. I’ve lived with my soul mate for 29 years, been married for 27 and I still adore him. I can’t remember a single argument that we’ve had because I honestly don’t think there have been any. (Schmaltzy, but true).

8. I was never one of those women who swoons at every infant and frequently found OPCs (other people’s children) very annoying. With my own children however, I instantly felt that being a mother was ‘my calling’ and, in truth, I’d die for my girls. My little family means everything to me and I often wish I’d had more children (but bozo here was doing her bit for the planet by only having two).

9. I led a monetarily very privileged childhood but my parents lost it all when I was in my early teens. Having seen and experienced both sides of the coin I know what is truly important in life but I still stand by the phrase that ‘it is easier to be happy and rich than happy and poor.’

10. I have an inquisitive mind and I undoubtedly think too much for my own good. I sometimes think that if I was less aware of the sh*t going on in the world I’d probably be a whole lot happier. On the other hand, people who say they don’t read the news because it depresses them frustrate me. Someone has to be paying attention, and I don’t think it’s either safe or fair to leave that responsibility to ’someone else’.

Now…handing on the Honest Scrap Award: As in life, I have a relatively small band of internet friends who I’m regularly in touch with and whose blogs are permanent reads, some of whom may already have received this. Forgive me therefore if you’re already an Honest Scrapper and if you’ve done this recently, and yet it seems to have entirely passed me by (because ‘factoid number 11′ would have been that post stroke I have THE most appalling memory).

I’m actually handing this worthy award on to more than 7, ( trusting that fire and brimstone will not rain down on me as a result), because the aforementioned bad memory means that I’m sure at least two of you will have done this already.

In no particular order therefore, I hand the torch to: Carma at CarmaSez, Helen at Feedingfamilyoffiveforfifty, Joanna at FiftyFactor, Natasha at SheLeftOnAMonday, Amanda at Teasingly Diverse, Terri at TerriTerri, Jane at TheyCallMeJane, Unknown Mami and Alicia at YayaStuff Though, seriously…No pressure, no obligation peeps.

Ingredients

• 250g good quality dark chocolate, minimum 70 per cent cocoa solids, broken into pieces
• 125g buter
• 4 eggs, separated, plus 1 whole egg
• 175g caster sugar
• double cream, to serve

Method

 1. Preheat the oven to 180C/ 350F / Gas 4.

2. Melt the chocolate and butter together in a heatproof bowl placed over a pan of barely simmering water (make sure the bowl doesn’t come into direct contact with the water or the heat will be too fierce). As soon as the chocolate is melted, set aside to cool.

3. In a clean, dry, grease-free bowl, whisk the 4 egg whites to stiff peak stage then whisk in 100g of the sugar until glossy.

4. In a separate bowl, whisk together the 4 egg yolks plus the whole egg and the remaining 75g of sugar.

5. Stir the egg yolk mixture into the cooled chocolate mixture then fold in the egg whites.

6. Pour the batter into a ungreased 20cm cake tin.

7. Bake in the oven for 30-35mins or until just set in the centre.

8. Serve warm or cold with double cream.

These two ads carry a common theme – first defense.- The first is for Vicks ‘First Defense’ cold medicine and this ad makes me giggle every time I see it. The second was voted funniest ad in Europe in 2005. Initially you’ll almost certainly find this one pretty heinous but stick with it – I can almost guarantee that it will make you laugh out loud.

‘I want those sweeties!’ ….

Many of you will have already seen this totally incredible tiger photo, with over 4,600 comments and 77,000 views, on Flickr.  (I urge you to click on that link because it truly is a photo that you will never forget).  The photographer, Eldad Hagar does wonderful work in rescuing injured, sick and unwanted animals in the Los Angeles area.  He has just posted a video on YouTube of a rescue he recently went on – an injured dog that had been knocked by a car.  It’s ultimately a heart-warming and wonderful story.  I believe Eldad and his helpers fulfil an important role with their ‘Hope for Paws’ organisation.

This video may make you shed a tear if you’re an animal lover, but according to the YouTube comments, this story has a very happy ending in that Mr Pooch has now been adopted into a new home. 

We’re going through our own particular little brand of hell here at home right now and just as I need to rest and recoup at night my brain is fighting me with that ruddy chattering monkey that lives in my head. I’ll get, say, 4 to 5 hours sleep and then my brain pops awake !~ping~! and thoughts, or music, start to tumble around as though I’ve been wide awake and at some social gathering for the last several hours.  Just lately it has been a wholly (or unholy  ) musical awakening.  I’ve abruptly sprung to life for the day to the following:

Monday Night

‘My fingertips are holding onto the cracks in our foundations.  I know that I should let go but I can’t’.   (And repeat).  (And repeat).  (And…    )

Tuesday Night

‘If you like it you should have put a ring on it.  If you like it you should have put a ring on it.  Uh oh oh ohohohoh…  (And repeat).  (And repeat).  (And…    )

Wednesday Night

‘I~i~i~iiii, I need your LSI to give me your love, sex, intelligence, comin’ through with the things you do to me’  (Rinse and repeat).

DJ monkey has a reasonable taste in music,  it’s just that I don’t need to hear it, repeated, over and over, AT 4 IN THE MORNING! 

Why do our brains fight us, when what we need is a little co-operation and a whole load of rest?

Splash!

Not water but smoke.  Photographer Mehmet Ozgur combines sometimes thousands of images of smoke to produce his smoke art pictures.  Wonderful idea, beautifully done … and requiring a lot of patience I should think.  You can view a gallery of his work here.

(I tried photographing smoke.  Once).

Waves…..

I love it when TV and radio presenters lose their veneer of composure and it’s so much more fun when it comes from someone who is trying to be ultra serious.  This radio clip is a little gem, particularly because it comes from a slightly ‘plummy’ and otherwise very sensible sounding BBC radio newsreader. Laughter is indeed infectious.

Oh dear.  I received the following notice in an email today – an Obituary that appparently appeared in the London Times:

Today we mourn the passing of a beloved old friend, Common Sense, who has been with us for many years. No one knows for sure how old he was, since his birth records were long ago lost in bureaucratic red tape.

He will be remembered as having cultivated such valuable lessons as:

Knowing when to come in out of the rain;
Why the early bird gets the worm;
Life isn’t always fair;
and maybe it was my fault.

Common Sense lived by simple, sound financial policies (don’t spend more than you can earn) and reliable strategies (adults, not children, are in charge).

His health began to deteriorate rapidly when well-intentioned but overbearing regulations were set in place. Reports of a 6-year-old boy charged with sexual harassment for kissing a classmate; teens suspended from school for using mouthwash after lunch; and a teacher fired for reprimanding an unruly student, only worsened his condition.

Common Sense lost ground when parents attacked teachers for doing the job that they themselves had failed to do in disciplining their unruly children. It declined even further when schools were required to get parental consent to administer sun lotion or an aspirin to a student; but could not inform parents when a student became pregnant and wanted to have an abortion.

Common Sense lost the will to live as the churches became businesses; and criminals received better treatment than their victims. Common Sense took a beating when you couldn’t defend yourself from a burglar in your own home and the burglar could sue you for assault.

Common Sense finally gave up the will to live, after a woman failed to realize that a steaming cup of coffee was hot. She spilled a little in her lap, and was promptly awarded a huge settlement. Common Sense was preceded in death, by his parents, Truth and Trust, by his wife, Discretion, by his daughter, Responsibility, and by his son, Reason.

He is survived by his 4 stepbrothers; I Know My Rights, I Want It Now, Someone Else Is To Blame, and I’m A Victim

Not many attended his funeral because so few realized he was gone. If you still remember him, pass this on. If not, join the majority and do nothing

~~oOo~~

Never a truer word…

Jane at ‘They call me Jane’ today wrote about a wonderful site that I want to share with you here.  It’s called Operation Beautiful and it’s a project that I think every woman should be part of, in fact everyone, and certainly all parents.   The premise is simple: To leave anonymous post-it notes in public places that simply say ‘you are beautiful’ (or very similar) – a personal boost for anyone seeing them, an assurance that they are in fact beautiful despite what they may currently be feeling.  In an extremely brief course of therapy I was told to do something very similar, so according to current thinking this is not a load of hoo-ha, and could actually start to make a difference …and Lord knows, we need to bolster our self -esteem when the messages that constantly surround us in the media seem to do nothing but undermine us.

I have two daughters and maybe because of my own childhood experiences I did everything I could when they were growing up to bolster their feelings of self-worth, to praise them and to tell them how much I love them.  Even so, none of us can help but be influenced by the images of ultra skinny, air brushed models that surround us.

Maybe more insidious are the stories of the perfect women with their perfect lives.  We’ve all come across them (and much though I love Nigella, in many ways, she’s a major culprit in this) – the women who live in some kind of 1950s Utopia where their children are scrubbed clean, well-behaved, fed perfectly nutritious home-prepared dinners, read a story and put to bed (where they stay and not winge at the top of the stairs) at seven o’clock in the evening, before Mummy cooks up something else – something totally spectacular for her and hubby.   Never mind that perfect Mummy has made it her job to make life look  perfectly easy and so is paid a perfectly lovely salary.  And never mind that perfect Mummy may live in a perfectly lovely house, with a husband with perfectly lovely income that can pay for perfectly lovely home help to clear it all up.

No.  Images, TV programmes and magazine articles albound about how easy it all is to look better,  do better, be better.  The fact of the matter is that life is not perfect, we are not perfect and unlike, say 100 years ago, many of us do not have the support of family close by who can take the pressure off us.  We struggle on, doing the best we can, but no doubt constantly feeling that somehow we ‘could do better’.

I also have to say that my experience of other mothers is that we are often our own worst enemies, excellent at psyching each other out.  I once visited a friend’s house and she made it a point to show me her airing cupboard.  (??!)  I soon saw why.  It was filled with perfectly laundered and folded laundry, in perfect little stacks.  I seem to remember that I maybe inappropriately snorted and said that if you were to take a punt on opening my airing cupboard door you’d most certainly be swamped under a stack of tumbling towels and pants.  I subsequently learned that the laundry she was so proud of was farmed out to a professional firm.  Well there you go – It’s easy to be perfect, with help.

Go visit Operation Beautiful ladies.  In fact, I think everyone should visit, because the message is coming through that  boys are increasingly starting to worry about their own body image and I know that despite the good front they put up, grown men also worry that they could do better in our screwed up and over-pressured western society.  I’m sure you guys can come up with your own affirming and appropriate post-it note phrase.

Let’s all fight back against the media.

If you’ve been around here a while you’ll have realised by now that I’m a big fan of singer Robbie Williams. I’m in very good company. This week Robbie performed live for the first time in three years at a record breaking sell-out concert at London’s Roundhouse theatre. As the show was also being screened at 250 cinemas across 23 countries, as well as being broadcast on 23 radio stations, it’s estimated that he reached an audience of an almost unbelievable 33 million people. It puts him firmly back in the Guinness Book of World Records – a place where he is no stranger thanks to his ongoing phenominal chart successes.

This is an old video and the title seemed appropriate for this week. It’s ‘No Regrets’, from 1998. (Fans of the Pet Shop Boys may recognise Neil Tennant on backing vocals).

Robbie’s had his fair share of troubles over the years and has a  surprisingly fragile ego. I sincerely hope that this time he’s back, healthy and strong, having finally exorcised his demons.