When my mum was my age (early thirties) and I was just a wee, little [cough, angelic....er who can I hear laughing?] girl my mum got into the hobby of photography.
She had a wicked camera that made the most fantastic shutter noise, a variety of lenses, filters that would change the colour of the photo which I thought was nothing short of magic (of course all done digitally nowadays) and all the kit to develop her own photos.
I even remember her joining a Photography Class and getting to go to Cambridge for the weekend (obviously I didn't know it at the time but giving her some very deserved and needed 'me time') and it must have been a fun weekend because she still talks about it now with fondness (they were taking pictures of the sun rising over a very beautiful Manor House, and got chased off the land whilst trying to pack up camera's and tripods and being chased down by the Game Keeper and his dogs!)
We spent many weekends out taking photographs of anything and everything, usually we would bike ride to a nearby location, and believe me where we lived it was nowhere exotic or exciting (see last weeks post A Beautiful Evening for more on that!) and click until the film ran out. Then we would ride back home and disappear into, what would have been the coal shed but was now the indoor drying room, which had no windows and a line to hang the photos to develop, so was ideal for a make shift dark room.
We had boxes and boxes of photographs. So I think it was no surprise that I always continued to love to take photos, only the point and click and hope for the best variety, but lots all the same. And of course none more so than when I became an aunty for the first time (some 15 years ago!) and then a mummy.
However, over the last few years I have taken less and less, I suppose always had my hands full with other things (quite literally, changing bags, buggies etc) and I think that is a real shame. Because whilst searching out young photos of J1 the other day for my 'Disability Diaries' post I came across the photos of my nephew of when he was J2's age, and I honestly say the only difference between those and J2's are the hair colour.
I was astounded because I have always been a little sad that I can't see any of me in J2, he is soooooooooooo like his dad (which of course isn't a bad thing but it is nice to glance at your child and think, ohhhh I can see part of me there) and that is what everyone says. But those photographs made me realise he must be like me too and that made me so happy. So I am very thankful that for many years I was close to being a photo-manic girl!
I think anyone that finds pleasure in photography are very lucky as I always end up smiling when I look back through all those old boxes of photos. That incident, combined with following wonderful 'photograph genius' blogs like Our Footprints on the World and Holding on to the Little Things have really made me want to get back into taking photographs (thanks girls, you are inspirational!).
I have a decent digital camera, I started off taking photos with vigour again when J2 came into the world, I just need to get the damn book out and read what it can really do! And maybe it's time to invest in a computer package that means I can mess around with the pictures once they are uploaded.
And hopefully I will be able to share bike rides to take photos with my own children one day, very soon.
J1
J2
Tiny
A week has passed by and with it a change in the weather, so I can no longer be thankful to the 'oh so amazing' warm sun and breeze that grazed my skin (still thankful for the spell that we did enjoy) this time last week, not that I am complaining now, we are officially in 'Autumn' weather, crisp but (thankfully) dry which is very pleasant in it's own right.
But I am thankful that I made the most of it when it was here however, no more so than the beautiful evening I decided to make a late afternoon visit to the park. Now we live in a seaside town. Some people would dislike this, turn their nose up at it, call it tacky, whatever. But I love it and so do my family as we have all seem to have mostly migrated here.
I used to live in an industrial town. And although of course there are a lot worse places in the country that I could have been born it was not the most pleasant of places to live. It was fine, certainly, but there wasn't an abundance to do as a child, not like the wealth of activities available to my children now living here. There was no where pretty to walk, not really anything to make the effort to go and see and until the arrival of the leisure centre when I was about 10, nothing to do unless you could get to the next town. On the way home from holidays (usually taken in the seaside town in which I now live) it was all downhill and with each hill taken my heart used sink, the holiday was over, now the view was of the power station and listening to the go-karts whining around a nearby bit of scrap land every Sunday.
That was my view as a child anyway. And now although sometimes I miss the whining of the go-karts on a Sunday because when I do hear anything similar I am filled with nostalgia of desperately waiting for Sunday Lunch whilst the smell of burnt rubber also filled the air, I do not miss living there for all the reasons mentioned already. But the fact that I did live somewhere like that does make me appreciate where I live now.
I mostly appreciate it when I go out walking, instead of walking along a busy main road, with grey smoke being pumped into the air I can now walk along a lovely seafront. Don't get me wrong, it is not the prettiest bit of coastline the UK boasts, not by any means, it doesn't have the most wonderful sandy beaches like Cornwall (although the next little town about 20 minutes would give it a run for it's money), the best pier ever or a great town centre (generally that part is quite grim being brutally honest, mostly avoided where possible).
But it is beautiful to me because along with the allure of the sea (always being an elusive mystery to me; how does it just - stop? How does it control all of that power it holds? Why does it give so much pleasure to so many people, yet take the lives of others whether it is given or stolen?) but philosophical stuff aside, it is where I spent the happiest parts of my childhood and I am reminded of that every time I walk out, whatever the time of year. It's great after Christmas dinner to wrap up and go and take in a bit of striking sea air, and it certainly brushes away those sleepy post-dinner nap requirements!
But I was reminded of it so strongly the other day after that late afternoon visit to the park I noted at the start of this post, that it is still making me smile now just remembering it, and I suspect it will for a long time. Just the fact that it was still shorts and vest weather in October was enough to make the nation smile, but strolling back from a trip to the park filled with the sound of my babies laughter (the park is still a fascinating new and exciting freedom to him), I was reminded it was in fact October, by how quickly the light of the day dropped away and I found myself walking home in the dark.
I decided to walk the seafront as it is the safest route home, and I am so glad I did, the sea front was still a buzz with people chilling on the grass verges on picnic blankets, and couples strolling leisurely with their dogs, normally a task done briskly in thick cardi and quite possibly a scarf in usual October climates. The street lights were coming on, the red marker lights were shining bolding on the Wind Turbines out at sea and the Pier was twinkling with all the rides outlined in little bulbs, making it look like a wonderland (always did to me as a child) with the Helter Skelter standing tall and proud, the centrepiece, it really was a beautiful sight to be seen. It was heart-warming to see lots of people enjoying the seaside in a month when it has usually become redundant to the tourists. And I was thankful to think with a rye smile 'Yep, this is where we live'.
I just hope that my children can appreciate it as much as I do. If they don't I am taking them back to where I used to live for a dose of reality about how lucky they are, so watch out boys!
When you do scheduled posts, it makes you very aware of how quickly the week goes by. A bit like when your child starts school and you start living in the world of 9am - 3pm, or you work in a routine Monday to Friday job.
I remember standing on a single bed and whining when I was very young at how slow the year went (probably waiting for a birthday or Christmas) and my mum saying to me 'appreciate that feeling because when you get older it all goes past far too quickly'. She was 34, I remember that specifically for no real reason maybe she said so, but she was not much different to where I am now must have had the realisation that life is short.
Seasons that once seemed to stretch, summer, long, warm and tiring, winter cold, dark but enchanting, autumn chilly and exciting with the start of lots of new things and spring full of prospect that summer was approaching now seem to fly by in a whirl of school terms, childrens' activities, anniversaries, birthdays, special events, bookings, appointments and pay days.
Nowadays it seems before I have finally found all of the Christmas decorations (I never remember putting as many out as I find to put away...) and packed them away in their home in the loft, I have got lists of 'ideas' for the kids on the go for the next festive season. And birthdays, well this year I told everyone I was a year older than I was, because I have given up attempting to keep track they come around so quickly.
But this week, we have been blessed by Mother Nature with the delusion of gaining some time. The weather here in Blighty has been positively barmy over the last few days and it has felt like we were back in June. My mum and I decided that we call these types of days 'bonus days' and I feel very lucky to live by the coast at times like these because you can drop what you are doing and go and really enjoy it.
For any of you following my 'The Run Mummy Run Mumma' blog you will know that I chose yesterday as the day I started running again. And I could not have chosen a better day. It was a perfect run and gave me a whole load of extra inspiration as to why I wanted to do it again. The sky was blue, the sun was beaming, the sea was sparkling and gently lapping and a light breeze flowed over me. But of course the thing I was most thankful for was just the basic ability to be able to run and experience all of that.
So thank you to Nature for the extra 'bonus' summer days that has given, everyone it seems, a little extra bit of joy.
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As with my little (attempted) rhyming 'thing' previously (I Am Mum) I do not delude myself that this is a Poem. So it is what it is :
I Got To Reminiscing
I got to reminiscing
About the girl I used to be
Before it was the four of us
Back when it was 'just me'
Mobile phone on the table
Glass of wine in hand
Girly holidays to the Med
Days passed out on the sand
Getting up early every morning
Deciding what to wear
Trying to be important
In a job that didn't care
Busy Saturdays shopping
Duvet days on Sunday
Just as long as the hangovers gone
By start of work on Monday
Too many hours spent chatting
On the phone to friends
Over-analysing everything
Driving each other round the bend
Yes, I got to reminiscing
About the girl I used to be
When days were passed just gossiping
Over Long Island Ice Teas
Those are happy memories
Of friends and days gone by
And sometimes they come flooding back
With a longing little sigh
But then you look at me and smile
And all that drifts away
When I realise life is pretty perfect
So boys I've got to say
That although sometimes I reminisce
About the girl I used to be
I'm so glad it's now the four of us
And no longer 'just me'
For my husband and my two beautiful boys
My son, J2, has recently discovered the childrens programme 'Teletubbies' and it's taken a couple of episodes to get him used to the format but now, he hears that little giggle come from the baby in the sun and he scrambles as fast as his chubby little legs can carry him to sit in his highchair. But today, as I was tidying in the room across the hall, I could hear uncontrollable laughter, that beautiful, heartwarming, makes a smile spread across your face no matter what you are doing, from the bottom of his belly, hearty and true laugh.
And it was the most beautiful sound in the world.
So today I am thankful that J2 had made a mess in the room across the hall, which meant that I was within earshot to hear that wonderful sound of his laughter. And I suppose I am also thankful for the Teletubbies. Which to be honest I didn't think I would EVER say!
