Song Lyrics

Songs can be so powerful. They have the ability to mirror your mood, and then multiply it many times over.

Do you have a lyric or a few lyrics that get you right down deep inside?

When I am feeling happy.

I love listening to something loud, fast, heavy or catchy, especially if I know all the lyrics and can sing along at the top of my voice, obviously this is a passtime best kept for when there are no spectators. It is also something that I am much less able to do since my thyroidectomy in July.

A really, hearty sing-a-long to such songs pumps you up and gets the blood streaking through those veins at breakneck speed as if on an endorphine overdose.


When I at the gym.

On my mp3 player I have one folder in which I copy just such music. Anything and everything that has a really steady, reasonably upbeat tempo. I call the folder 'workout' and it is what I play whilst I am at the gym. I sing along to these, in the privacy of the sound-proofed room in my head, the beat helping me to keep the pace going.

If I can just make it to the start of the next track.. please... concentrate.... keep going .... if the next track is a real belter, I can last another 5 minutes!!

I could tell you how many 'steps per minute' the beat of most of the tracks are too!! Sad I know, but a girl has to keep herself fit, and all those workouts really keep your stamina levels up so it is time VERY well spent.

When I am feeling sad.

It's the fateful old soppies I turn to. Crazy really as slow, sad songs definitely get you right inside and tug at your heart strings til you think they might break.

So often you can relate to the songwriters intended feelings and it almost always brings to mind one person. One person whom you could have written the song about, or for, even if you have to swap 'her/she' for 'him/he'.

There are many songs which provoke memories of times past.

• The typical 'Our Song', you know, the first track you ever slow danced to with your partner.
• Your favourite track from the first pop star you had a crush on, that guy that made you go weak at the knees. (OK, so that was just me then was it?)
• A song that was a favourite at school, for reasons other than you fancied the pants of the lead singer!
• The first track you ever bought on single, (uh-oh, showing my age! When I was at school we still had vinyl and I could usually only afford to buy a single and not an album).
• A track that reminds you of someone close that you have lost.
• The track you sat and cried your eyes out to when you split up with your very first boyfriend 'cos you loved him and it hurt so damn much. (Surely that wasn't just me too, come on people, own up!)

The question for this post however was a song lyric that means something, rather than a whole track. So, after racking my brains as to which track/s really get me right in the core of my being, I guess this is one of them. I sometimes wonder if someone in my past ever considered these sentiments about me:

And the thought crosses my mind, if I never wake in the morning,
would she ever doubt, the way I feel about her in my heart.
If tomorrow never comes, will she know how much I loved her
Did I try in every way, to show her every day, that she's my only one.
and if my time on earth were through, she must face this world without me
Is the love I gave her in the past, gonna be enough to last
If tomorrow never comes.
~ Ronan Keating, If tomorrow never comes.

And these lyrics are my response to that person:

Would you know my name
If I saw you in heaven?
Would it be the same
If I saw you in heaven?

I must be strong
And carry on,'
Cause I know I don't belong
Here in heaven.

Eric Clapton ~ Tears in Heaven. Written after he lost his son in a drowning accident.

What lyrics stir strong, emotive feelings in you? All comments welcomed.

Haiku

I was browsing the web whilst trying to come up with some inspiration for a fun blog entry, something a little bit light hearted maybe or some theme that readers could follow on with on their own blogs.

I have looked at hundreds of pages. Then I stumbled across a site that had held a Haiku competition.

What's a Haiku I hear you ask? Well, I didn't know what it was, maybe I was just being a bit blonde!

Definition of a Haiku ~ a mini verse of 3 lines of 5/7/5 syllables.

Sounds easy enough I thought, so I decided I would give it a go. It really cannot be that difficult to write 17 syllables about a topic. It doesn't even have to rhyme.

How wrong can you be! 'Easy' would be to copy some of the entries from the competition and claim them as my own, but plagiarism isn't really my style, so I continue to sit here, trying to write 2 or 3 Haiku for your pleasure.

An hour has past since I began this entry and I have made some progress.

No, really, no applause, it's progress not a finished work of art!!!

I thought it would be fun to try and cover different areas of my life and/or thoughts with each one. So after a little more effort, and a lot more thought, here are 5 little Haiku covering different aspects of my life.

PS - Does anyone have a spare delete key, I think this one's worn out!

~My new passion

Wake every morning
Wondering what thoughts to share
With my blogsphere friends

~My loves ...

Rough seas, tidal flows
White horses a crest the waves
Crashing on the shore

~... and my hates

The blue screen of death
Ate my entire life's work
Fresh page. Start again

~My past ...

Death. Dark. Depression.
Lost him, he's gone forever
Sad thoughts, heavy heart.

~... and my future

Husband, Son, Daughters
Love and adore them always
They are my riches

Goodness, its harder than you think to write something meaningful with so few words!! I hope you enjoyed them. I know which one is my favourite, but that's for very personal reasons; which do you like, if any?

Healthy Eating

We are all told that to stay fit and healthy we should eat at least 5 portions of fruit & vegetables every day.

For one who’s not keen on vegetables this can be quite tricky, so how do you get enough portions and who the hell ever tells you how much a ‘portion’ is?

Granted, many manufacturers now include this on the packaging of their products:

“This provides one of your recommended 5 daily portions”

and for those of you who can’t read they include a nice clear pie chart. Fair enough, even I can add up to 5, I have enough fingers, which is lucky because taking off your socks and shoes to get your toes out in the supermarket is frowned upon. But what if your eating strawberries, cherries or some other small fruit?

How many strawberries constitute a portion? If you ask my kids, a portion is as many as you can pick and eat from the garden before I catch you, but that’s not a lot of help if you are trying to follow the government guidelines for healthy eating.

I decided at this point of my ranting, I should maybe do a little research and see if I could find some answers on the net to illustrate my point… and I found a full list of the quantity of fruit and vegetable that represent 1 portion. So for all you lovely people who are just itching to know the answer to my question you need wonder no more:-

1 portion is equal to:

7 fresh strawberries or 14 fresh cherries!!

I bet you were all gagging to know that weren’t you! If you want the full list, you can download a PDF file from here, the Department of Health’s website; but please ... don’t all rush at once, we’ll eat their bandwidth (and no that won't count towards your 5 daily portions!!). The following is an extract from the guidance given on that website, now pay attention, because I'll be asking questions at the end!!!

The health benefits of fruits and vegetables.

Increasing consumption of fruit and vegetables can significantly reduce the risk of many chronic diseases. It has been estimated that eating at least 5 portions of a variety of fruit and vegetables a day could reduce the risk of deaths from chronic diseases such as heart disease, stroke, and cancer by up to 20%.

Higher consumption of fruit and vegetables also reduces the risk of coronary heart disease and stroke. A recent study found that each increase of 1 portion of fruit and vegetables a day lowered the risk of coronary heart disease by 4% and the risk of stroke by 6%.

So, my question is this:

If you buy your salad as a pre-packed item at the supermarket, does the protein content count as one of your 5-a-day?

Well - does it?

and if it does..

... is it really fair...

... to make them eat it?

Have a nice lunch!

Memory Monday - Paternal Grandmother

Today's memory is a tribute to my paternal grandmother, who died in 1994 after a long, healthy, happy life.

My paternal grandmother was a petite woman, of steadily shrinking height and what I would today call 'The old school' She had very high principles and morals and an even greater respect for the church. Devoutely religious, she attended church every Sunday morning without fail, and until later in her life, every Thursday morning too. It had been the same church for all the years she had lived in the town since moving down from Northamptonshire just after she married my grandfather. I had never known my grandfather, he died 5 years before I was born, but he was the headmaster of the Church of England school that was a part of the Church my Nan attended, and it was this job I believe that brought them down to the south. Although she was from a very religious background, she would never preach at you about God and the Bible, but she did expect you to live by certain standards.

I can clearly remember that she would sweep (not hoover, she never did own one of them) the carpet in the living areas on her hands and knees, using a small dustpan and brush. This was no mean feat in the kitchen area where there was a coal/wood burning Rayburn stove. Her washing was done in a washer, (like half a twin-tub) with a mangle attached to the back, and many days we would help her squeeze the sheets through, catching them as they came out the other side so that they would not drape across the scullery floor. Sometimes it caused arguments with my siblings because we all thought it was such fun to crank the handle round and watch the dripping wet bed linen go in one side and emerge on the other in a super flat and considerably drier state.

Her cutlery, tableware and some of her provisions were not stored in kitchen cupboards like today, but kept on shelves in the pantry. A bare concrete floored small room just off the kitchen, it was dark and cold, with no natural light, but as a young child I loved this little room. It was full of all sorts of interesting things. There was a small stack of plates in various sizes and designs which were for everyday use, or for the likes of us grandchildren lest we should drop and break them. There was a second, smaller pile of 'Sunday Best' crockery, including matching cups and saucers. Why did the older generation always keep things for 'Sunday Best'?

Her television, which for most of her life was merely a black and white T.V was used very little. Not at all like today, where a family now see's relaxing at the end of a hard day as a cause to sit down and put the T.V. on to watch the best of what they can find. Her telly would go on for specific programs and then be turned off again, and woe betide anyone who made more noise than the telly. She would give you one of her 'looks' and tut loudly..lol.. I can still here you Nan.

She had fruit bushes in the garden and was forever complaining about the rabbits eating the fruit before it was ripe enough to pick and use. She was so funny, that us kids would often get bored and decide that a little joke was in order. One or more of us would run full pelt into the house shouting

"Nan, Nan, there's a rabbit at the gooseberry bush"

to which the standard response, and of course the one that we were waiting for was to curse the rabbits, grab a tea-towel and trot outside as fast as she could. With the tea-towel held by both hands and flapping around like a flag, she would rush down the path toward the gooseberry bushes waving the tea-towel and saying something like

"Shoo, shoo you litte devils, get off, shoo"

Well, us kids would all just be sat there on the lawn, watching the show that we had engineered, and falling about laughing our heads off. At which point, Nan would realise that she'd been had... again... and would tell us we we're little terrors, but she always laughed, always.

She would often bake cakes and pies, and her home-made marmalade was second to none. I have a particularly soft spot for a good ol' fashioned mince pie, always have. Mince pies were one of my Nans regular baking features, and because she knew how much I loved sweet mincemeat she would always use the last, already double-rolled, piece of pastry to make me a special little mincemeat jalousie, or some similar divine item. It always made me feel special, because it was just for me!

Yet again, I have surprised myself with the things that have come to mind once I started to type. I could go on all day, but alas, time has beaten me again.

If you want to take part in Memory Monday click here

The Paddle Steamer

I had yesterday off work to go on a day trip with my husband (G), on the world's last sea going paddle steamer the 'Waverley'

After a poor start, partly due to the weather, and partly due to 500 expectant passengers congrugated at the port in Dover with no sign of a vessel to board, we were told that due to unforseen weather conditions, we would be taken by coach to Whitstable, an hours journey away, and that we would board the boat there. A large number of the crowd, including me and G, felt cheated by this as, being local to Dover, we wanted to see the famous cliffs from the sea and sail around the Foreland Point.

Once onboard however, we were captivated by the beauty, and enchantment of this very rare and unusual craft. It was as if we had stepped into a different world. The deck boards were glistening as the rain fell softly upon them, the paddle turned, gently at first, then faster, producing a sound I had never heard before. It was similar to the 'chug-chug, chug-chug' of a steam train but with much less motion. In fact, the motion was hardly noticeable for the entire trip which lasted about 7 hours.

We began by sailing down the Medway River from Whitstable to the Medway Towns, and although there was not a great deal to see, there was a completely calming, peaceful feel to the journey. When we had travelled as far as we were to go down the river we had a tug boat to turn us 180º to go back to the sea and on to the River Thames. It was quite a site to see this small, insignificant boat 'tug' us round in the water. The passengers were all leaning over the side of the boat in an effort to get a better view, and an even better photograph. Some could be overheard taking verbal bets on whether the rope was going to snap!

On board the ship we visited the Tea Room for a drink of something hot to warm ourselves. As yet the weather hadn't improved by any amount worth talking about and we were pretty chilled. It was cosy in the Tea Room. Lots of people sat around, happily chatting and drinking tea's and coffee's and looking through the misty wet windows at the grey sights outside. Some of the older passengers definitely looked like they were set to stay in their warm, cosy little seats for the duration.

With tea in hand, we walked along the boat and as I peered through the tiny, round, glass porthole I could see the paddle crashing through the water, powering us in our chosen direction, white surf-like water rushing and gushing and gurgling as it fell from the individual paddles back into the vast mass of water below.

"Oh look, you can see the wheel through here" I said to G. Well... he just fell about laughing.

"It's not a wheel darling, why do you think it's called a paddle boat? God am I going to get some mileage out of this one!"

We moved on a little, G still chuckling to himself and trying to hide the fact. We stopped to look at the engine room. The sides of the 'room' were cut away so that it was open plan and you could look across and down on the powerful, thrusting crankshafts. (I'm still talking engine parts here girls, stay with it). It was quite mesmorising to watch. The continuous, even movement as the parts moved back and forth, back and forth and round and round. Not wishing to have the 'wheel' incident held over me for too long, even if the evil glint in his eye does make him look damn sexy, I thought maybe he would forget it if we talked about the engine a bit, it's one of the things that makes him tick, being a mechanic by trade, he is always fascinated by different kinds of engines. (I know, it's a man thing!)

"That's the biggest piston I've ever seen" I said, with a similar mischievious grin! There was a pause, followed by another pause, followed by:

"urm.. I can't let you get away with that darling (grinning now from ear to ear), it's not a piston it's a crank shaft, and that bit there is the connecting rod" he said, pointing to the shiny steel pole that was equal in girth to a telegraph pole (wait, maybe I should go and check with him what metal it was) . "That's the piston rod and the piston...well that's the bit you can't see, but it's on the other end of the piston rod" he concluded, with a cheesy grin and a wink.

The trip up the Thames was fantastic. The weather was beginning to clear, and there was patchy sunshine in places. Whilst all the softies remained under cover we stood out on deck as far forward as we were allowed and this gave us a magical, panoramic view of both sides of the river as we sailed towards London.

Going under the QE2 bridge which carries vehicles from Essex back into Kent gave a completely different aspect to that which I am used to. I have travelled by car over that bridge many, many times and looked down onto the calm waters below. From the river looking upwards it seemed to reach up to the skies, a view that is well worth seeing.

The most interesting part of the journey of course was further up the Thames, as we came into London. Canary Wharf, with it's oh so distinctive pointed roof, stood tall and proud and was visible for miles before we reached it. The Millennium Dome, an interesting building for sure, but so under utilised for the millions it cost to build (enough politics Ali, move on). The Greenwich Observatory, The Maritime Museum, The Cutty Sark, The Tower of London, and of course the finale, the most beautiful, most graceful bridge I have ever seen - Tower Bridge.

For those of you who don't know about Tower Bridge, building of the bridge began in 1884 and took 8 years, it is a road bridge that has the capabilities of being 'opened' to allow very large, tall ships and boats to pass up the river. It is an absolutely amazing site, and a feat of engineering to marvel at.

Our paddle steamer was one such vessel, and as we watched the bridge on our approach we saw the traffic cease to pass over it, then slowly, gracefully, she began to open. Each half of the bridge lifting upwards to create the space for us. We stopped the traffic in London. All the drivers had gotten out of their cars and stood at the edge of the towers to watch the bridge open. Then, just as we emerged the other side, there was an almighty cheer and round of aplause from all the spectators.

What a fitting end to a magical trip.

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