14 July 2009

All aglow #2

So anyway the finally real purpose of writing at all is that in signing up to write, I was told I had unmoderated comments to view.


I'd forgotten, I set moderation on for posts over 21 days old. I'd assumed I'd go back to prolific nattering on here and that 21 days would put anything that old on a back page and that therefore nobody but a spammer trying to promote dodgy links would think to make comment.


I have comments; real comments, from Lori Fineartist and Library Lady.

Gone all warm and fuzzy.

All aglow, now

I signed in to waffle on about rice cakes (the diet continues) and also, perhaps mainly, to shove the previous post down the page a bit.

See, I am playing with fire (no, I'm not aglow because I got burned..., touch wood (although touching something less flammable might be an idea)). *Cough* I am playing with fire because my nieces are trying to reach out to someone. Not to claim them, make demands on them or otherwise ensnare them, but the girls are pretty eager to know that this person knows that they are OK, and is also aware that they feel warmly towards said stranger. I think they'd like a conscious exchange of pride in each other, whether as the beginning of something or as closure I have no idea, and that much at least is none of my business.

I am therefore trying to make my history and my connections a little more public - but not so public that a person might feel trapped or hounded, nor to blow out of the water any back story they might have established elsewhere.

I was just volunteering to be an impartial bridge or first contact, although (given that you can permanently block a contact on there if it all goes tits up) Facebook is probably a much better no-man's-land for truce talks or whatever. Then again our lost friend would have to add me in order to see the current names of the people that really want the contact; so we are back to square one.

And that is why this post becomes two parts, so that this new reference to the same dilemma similarly begins to creep south, on the page.

Excuse me, won't be a moment....

13 July 2009

Thanks to my two beautiful nieces Kelly and Michelle, (neither of whom I'd seen for years) , I spent this weekend in Staffordshire at my cousin Debbie's 50th birthday party.

I wish the digital camera had been functioning, but I took (and used) four disposables instead so now have to afford processing for something like 100 traditional snapshots. I imagine a few will need throwing away but if there aren't a dozen worthy of enlargement I shall be very disappointed.

Still Sian (Yay Sian!), another cousin, drove home on Saturday and had her favourite shots up on facebook before I even got home on Sunday. What a diamond.

I took Imogen with me and went up by train, which was an amazingly agreeable experience - even with the Victoria line closed and no trains across the whole Manchester area (a replacement bus running out of Stoke), courtesy of my darling 'professional traveller' of a husband, I knew all this in advance, knew what routes to take instead, even what direction to head off in within the main train stations to find the right platforms. It was like feeling I'd done the whole journey last month already. No scary bits. No fear about the time, and little concern about whether we'd got on the wrong underground train, because there was room enough for an adventure even if we had.

Trueman was happy not to leave the computer and very excited to have his dad to himself for a whole weekend - he clings to Gary when he gets home from working away all week. Poor G got home at 9 on Friday night, we spent that evening packing and covering all eventualities for my sake, then I deserted him at 7 the next morning to get the train, leaving him to do all his own laundry and re-pack his own bag for this week. At least we had two hours and a meal together on Sunday, after I got back and before he left.

It was worth it.
Debbie rocks.

Like her middle child Michelle, she is totally family oriented - all about nurturing, about the children, about making sure everyone feels welcome and included. Its quite therapeutic just to sit next to someone who is fulfilled to that extent, just enjoying her children and grandchildren and the harmony there is between them all.

Kelly is just as much of a sweetheart but also enjoys her education and runs her own business. She set-up the party and the surprise and the food and all of it - she did all of the work and is an amazing organizer. Her little girl is as bright as a button too, just like her mum.

James, the youngest, is tall, slender, dark and broody looking with a wonderful sense of humour. So easy going, so pleasant. One of those facilitators who melts into the background by choice and just keeps everything being smooth. I spent some time trying to convince him to go in to modelling, at least as a sideline.

I hope they don't mind me describing them publicly, but I have my reasons. For now this is my diary, a snapshot (until the real photos come back).

Lovely weekend, lovely month, lots to think on. Family is so important, isn't it?