puppy dog tales, ch. fifteen 12:37 am on Monday, December 31 2007

And as I toiled outdoors, his royal puppiness was so lovely, and great company. He bobbed about as only Billy can, and looked after Stick One, Stick Two, and Stick Three.

Sweet boy.

virtuous 12:33 am on Monday, December 31 2007

Its been a complete mixture this weekend. I'm going to focus on the positive

For all my procrastination and ensuing angst, I've looked at the cottage garden and had a conscience. This weekend I tackled it - with gusto.

Most of the daylight hours of yesterday and for a lesser part of today, I spent my time out there, shears in hand, attacking with vengeance, all the overgrowth and undergrowth, chopping and raking and creating a mountain of waste.

Then I tackled the mountain, chopping it up into bite sized pieces and squashing it down and filling 11 big black sacks with the result.

It actually was a pleasure not a chore, and the sense of satisfaction when job was done, was immense. I've taken half the bags to the tip, and I'll take the rest tomorrow.

Over and over and over again, I realise that it is the simple things in life, the little things, the minutiae, that make the difference. Simply having a garden that is clean and tidy makes my head feel that little bit more clean and tidy and makes me feel good. How lovely to have been out there, in the winter sunshine, embracing the world, as opposed to hiding away and wishing the world would go away and leave me alone.

Take care of the world, and it will return the favour to you.

puppy dog tales, ch. fourteen 11:34 pm on Thursday, December 27 2007

We went away, for a couple of days, over Christmas. Me and my stuff. Me and a pile of presents wrapped and ready to be shared out amongst family. Me and my Aggie the Cat, and Billy the Bob.

Packing up for the creatures was even more of a headache than packing my own bag and deciding what clothes I needed and whether any of them needed a quick iron. For Aggie and Billy (particularly for Billy, Ag is a pretty cool cat) there was food to remember, and beds, toys, treats, the lead, towel, more treats and we forgot bowls but we made do with what was available when we got there.

And on arrival at our destination Aggie swiftly installed herself in the top bedroom, her penthouse suite, whilst Bill on the other hand flew around the place at a million miles an hour casing the joint, inspecting the residents with overly enthusiastic leaps and squeaks and woofs and wags. He dashed under tables, and cups of tea shook and slices of cake were under threat of kidnap. He skated across wooden floors, making muddy boots prints anywhere and everywhere, and he scattered his toys - the one-antlered reindeer that squeaks, the grubby pink creature with a hole in its tummy that squeaks, knotted string plaits, rubber bone (that, you've guessed it, squeaks) throughout the house.

Once hed done his worst and made his presence known and had his tea and become a bit of a sore point, he settled down by the aga and had a nap.

Hes bonkers, he's naughty, he's my boy and I love him. He drives me to distraction sometimes, but for the laughter and the joy I get from him, its all worth it, a thousand times over.

free 11:19 pm on Thursday, December 27 2007

Even some of the most daft writings can carry something of a valuable message or inuendo. I got have a new wall calender for 2008, unwrapped as I sat at the foot of the christmas tree. Its The Interesting Thoughts of Edward Monkton, and each and every interesting thought tickles me in its own way.

Take january, for a start, its titled The Butterfly of Freedom (I am already warming to it as I think of the springback butterfly and it seems apt)

Why do you fly outside the box?

I fly outside the box because I can.

But we KNOW the box. We are SAFE inside the box

That, my friend, is why I leave it. For YOU may be SAFE

but I am FREE!

Im not going to analyse or comment any further than simply to say that I think it is wonderful. You know what I mean?

gift 2:04 am on Sunday, December 23 2007

Once in a blue moon

I wonder, was the moon blue last night? I woke to receive a gift that came out of the blue and I love it.

christmas cheer 2:00 am on Sunday, December 23 2007

I love Christmas as for me it means a time to be with the ones you love and to have a day or three off and to bask in the warmth of life.

It is a time of reflection. Of looking back on the previous year and looking forward towards the next. Both observations, for me, have highs and lows. Happy memories and gratitude and recognition of what has been acheived. High hopes and dreams for the future. Awareness of the pitfalls that I have tripped into. And a degree of angst about the dreams that for yet another year, have not been fulfilled. Will they - ever?

The best way I believe, and I hope I will be proved right one day, of securing and acheiving what I dream of for the future, is by living as best as I can and making the most of today.

Its easy to dream your life away - which can be a waste. Far better simply to live it, and live it well. For then, if they are meant to be, dreams will come true.

nick 1:51 am on Sunday, December 23 2007

I met this little boy this evening. I don't suppose we will meet again, but the short time I spent with him was precious.

Nick is autistic. He is a beautiful child and I look with immense admiration at how his Mum has brought him up to be so.

We come in all shapes, sizes and sorts, and each one of us have our own special place, so much to give - and a need to also receive.

As the cliche says you can't judge a book by its cover. This is never more true than when we are dealing with People.

Thank you Nick, for playing open the door, shut the door with me. When you took my hand and involved me momentarily with your world, I was honoured, and I enjoyed that time with you.

magnetic 11:39 pm on Thursday, December 20 2007

I am not about to tell you that I am a magnet individual! But I have a bangle around my wrist, that does contain magnets. And I hope that bioflow magnets are going to have the effect that I have heard about, in easing the pain and the various symptoms which, in addition to the hurt, have been driving me to distraction.

I hope that this latest - and long overdue - effort will lead me to be one of those people who will, in due course, write a high-praising testmonial about how the effect of the magnets transformed them from a victim into a victor. I don't like taking tablets or being left high and dry by all the docs I have seen, who apologise and draw a blank, I don't like moaning about pain, I don't like the helplessness and hopelessness. I hope this might help, and might bring a ray of hope.

And who knows maybe I will become intriguingly magnetic as a result!

communication 11:29 pm on Thursday, December 20 2007

it is key to just about everything, so far as I have seen in my 31 and a bit years.

Isolation is the key to nothing, to separation, to loneliness.

There doesn't need to be any big deal made, it is not all about grand entrances, exciting events or awesome revelations. Some of the best and most meaningful moments come about from simple dialogue - on the phone, face to face, whatever.

If we talk, share, and allow another to do the same, we might just find an extra reason to smile. Or give such a reason to someone else.

We need each other. We all do.

all sorts 11:29 pm on Wednesday, December 19 2007

I am not surprised that I am tired. It has been a great few months, but so too has it been very long and has left me weary.

I have participated in all sorts of fantastic opportunities that have come my way and I hope that in the long run they will prove to have been a valuable investment of time and effort. As well as my work in schools - including 18 presentations in november alone, and 1000s of miles to and from - there has been the Guardian article; the You article; the Community Channel filming; a book (yet to be released) contribution; work on another big magazine piece due out in 6 weeks, a social life (just about) and heaps and heaps of admin and emails - many of which are still standing in line waiting for me to reply.

Am I tired? I am.

Tired, alive, busy, and grateful for all sorts.

girl 10:31 pm on Sunday, December 16 2007

It was a few months into the twelve months that I have lived here, before I met her. She's a lovely girl and in recent times we have spent more time chattering - and a real friendship has emerged.

She gathered through our chats, some of what my past has been - through hearing about what I do now. I don't want - ever - to land my past in any persons lap, but it does tend to get a mention, as it was, it happened, and it inevitably won't go away and whilst it is the past so too does it (as it does with any of us) have an impact on who and what I am today.

I got a text from her, soon after the You magazine article came out. I suspected she would see it and I wondered what conclusions would be drawn by her and anyone else who knows the today-me and not the me of yesteryear.

The message I read on my mobile phone touched me. Made me smile, and brush a tear away. I am so blessed with the beautiful people in my life.

Hi hun, the article is great! Rather harrowing and made me cry but very honest and well written. Love the photo too. Honestly. Not just saying that. Its a perfect shot for the tone of the article. I expect you've been manic today, be good to catch up later in the week.

I went out today with her and her fiance and we ended up at their cottage chatting by the christmas tree and enjoying the warmth, music, banter and the moment. She said something that mirrored my sentiments exactly, and I would have said if she hadn't got there first meeting has been fabulous, weve had great fun - BUT/AND it is so nice to look to the future and look with enthusiasm and keen anticipation at what that holds - more friendship, more fun, more of life.

There are some really great people out there. Each time we meet one it is worth a round of applause and far far more. Thank you girl, you are a very special friend.

resurrected3bt #15 12:54 am on Saturday, December 15 2007

Its been a while, but three beautiful things are reinstated

1. The meeting. As I opened the door it was immediately plain that I was glad to meet her. There was not enough time to talk, but talk we did. A new friendship for certain. And if we end up working together also, which I hope we might, then that will be a bonus.

2. The walk. The beach, in winter, deserted apart from us, and a few distant fellow-dogwalkers. The vast expanse, the grey sky, the fact that we were there, just being, and talking and walking. Priceless.

3. The titch. Puppy Billybob is a titchy thing, although around these parts, and in these four wooden walls he can easily present himself as the biggest thing, the busiest thing, the most obtrusive thing. But he's not - not really. He's just a typical little boy really.

the walk 1:07 am on Saturday, December 15 2007

I love the sea. I really love the sea - especially the English sea. One of my nearest towns is Hastings and from time to time I head down there. There are things about it I am not so keen on, but one thing that I find rather endearing is the shabby neglected coastline. The buildings along the seafront are weather beaten and their paint is faded and peeling. The shops scattered along the front mostly sell cheap tourist gimmicks and plastic souvenirs. But it is the beach - the pebbles - that draw me to Hastings - walking along the edge of the sea, feeling the salt water spray as it bounces and showers anything or anyone in its path. The big open sky, the cockney gulls, the room to stretch and breathe and the utter sense that there are no airs or graces, no expectations, nothing except the deep blue yonder, the sea, and the sky.

My favourite place down here, however, is Rye and Camber Sands. Now there you have a real beach, broad and long, one side pebbles, the other side sand. People go there to fly their kites, to train their race horses, to build castles, to swim, to sit, to walk, to run.

Yesterday I went there to walk. It was unplanned, as so often the best things are, and it was exactly what I needed. I was too busy to go, but go I did. The air was icy cold, my fingers and toes and face were frozen. Watching Billy leap and bounce and tumble was magic. Strolling across the almost deserted expanse was the best medicine for all of the aches and stresses that life can throw at me. We walked and talked and laughed. I was present in the moment and so was able to soak it all up and see the beauty in the bleak landscape.

I love the sea in winter. Walking on a windswept beach touches a level deep inside of me, where it is not only the bitter wind that fills my eyes to overflowing, and it is not only the beauty of what is in front of me that makes me smile, and feel warm on the coldest of days.

my story of anorexia 12:26 am on Wednesday, December 12 2007

Some of you have heard my story. Some of you have read extracts of it. It is not something I share in order to let you know what will happen if you or someone you know develops an eating disorder. I share it in order to let you know what could happen - and importantly to let you know that it CAN be avoided. My story is just that - mine. No one else needs to follow the same path.

Of course, there are many - too many - who do. Which again is another reason why I speak out - because I know that the stastitics don't read well. By increasing awareness, by offering a point of identification, by being around to support, guide, mentor, and advise, I can help the casualty rate to lessen.

I know this because I have proof of it. The numbers of people who have responded to my words by asking me, or someone else for help. The individuals and families who I have been privileged enough to see have their lives transformed as we have worked together to find a solution. I've worked independently with some of these people. For others I have worked hand in hand with others - counsellors, clinics, parents, teachers to name but a few.

Sometimes positive change happens quickly. Sometimes slowly. But no matter the journey, no matter how long it takes, no matter the obstacles, nothing will make me give up on the belief that change is always possible.

I have, and I am, the evidence.

definitions 12:10 am on Wednesday, December 12 2007

I have caught snippets of The Secret Millionaire this evening. What a great series. It is humbling and intriguing and offers a refreshing dimension on humanity, one that is so often overlooked.

It led me on to think about how we define ourselves, the people around us who we know, and those who we know of but never meet.

And I started to think about me. I know that there are many different definitions of Al, some of which I may never realise. There are many dimensions to each and every one of us, and no one single thing defines any of us. Different experiences, times, people and places all shape us, and the unique soul that lies within make each of us just that - unique.

I am a daughter and a sister, a cousin and a niece. In each of these roles I give, and get back, something unique.

I am a business woman in its simplest form, and I provide something unique.

I have a love of people, young and old, and a love of art, and a love of the big outdoors.

I talk alot. I listen alot too. And I do both with great passion.

I can be stubborn and impatient, and I get things wrong. And I have learnt to forgive myself.

I laugh. Alot. Laughter is important.

I cry. When something brings me to tears, tears flow, and thats okay. Sometimes those tears get held back, to be shed later, but they are not bottled up indefinitely, they do not drown me.

I procrastinate. Which is very annoying. But I do it all the same. Oh, and I worry, which sometimes protects me, but sometimes simply gets in the way of progress.

I am far far more than those few statements. And I am not just a girl in recovery, I am Al, a young woman who grows and learns every day, and who carries lessons from the past into her future.

Just like you, I have many dimensions. You are the only you. I am the only me.

busy, grateful and busy busy busy 10:32 pm on Monday, December 10 2007

I am heartened touched and blessed. I am also incredibly tired and hectic. I have been emailing all evening and I will endeavour to continue with those I have not yet got to, in the morning.

Its good to have a life. A real life. Alive, very much so, and very much full of hope.

And it is not exclusive. Which is why I do what I do. You all can have life, hope, and delight - because if I can, anyone can.

Believe me,

family 9:47 pm on Sunday, December 9 2007

I speak frankly, graphically and honestly on a regular basis. It is what I do.

My family have shown me immeasurable support. Which should never - ever - be taken for granted. If the darker days are the skeletons in the closet, it would be entirely understandable, acceptable, and fair for the other people in my life to wish that I might leave them there - in the closet. But they understand and support my work, irrespective of the hideous memories and the difficult images that get revisited.

All credit to them. Mum, Dad, my beautiful sister. They are strong and gentle, loving and wise. I love them to pieces and I owe them everything. My love for them is immeasurable and the love that I get back is the same. I thank them, here and now, for everything.

You Magazine 1:38 pm on Saturday, December 8 2007

There is an article out tomorrow. Its me again. I'm still deciding what I think of it.

Fundamentally, putting my dissection of the minutiae of it to one side, if it offers someone hope, or allows me to help someone who needs help, that is all that matters.

footage 1:20 pm on Saturday, December 8 2007

Heres me. Unrehearsed, unprepared (does it show?), just talking off the cuff.

http://www.communitychannel.org/index.php?option=com_content&task=view&id=1780&Itemid=107&vlogid=214&autostart=1

diagnosis 8:48 pm on Thursday, December 6 2007

Ive got Computeritis this evening.

The symptoms: Aching shoulders, fuzzy vision, tired head, bored dog.

The treatment: Do something else. Phone a friend. Run a bath. Eat a packet of crisps. Once daylight resumes, walk the dog.

The prognosis: Good.

campaign - please read this! 6:47 pm on Thursday, December 6 2007

I have added the following info to my news page, but in case none of you ever go there, I thought I'd put it here too, as well quite possibly, as in other places on the website! I feel very honoured, surprised and delighted to find my name mentioned in such close proximity (the SAME sentence ) as the names as some true greats. We may never meet in person, but being in the same sentence is a real privilege.

Community Channel is presenting a season of mentoring programmes throughout December to celebrate its growing popularity. Surrounding critically acclaimed programmes are contributions from the world of media, sport and business, including Dragons Den entrepreneur, Levi Roots, MT Rainey, Alex Corkran from Springback and Tim Campbell of The Apprentice fame. Powerful, inspiring and honest, this is a must-watch season for anybody involved or thinking of becoming involved in mentoring. For more information about the programmes and viewing times visit www.communitychannel.org/mentoring

The campaign goes live this weekend, on freeview, sky (neither of which I have) and also can be viewed on line. I will watch (online) with interest, and even though it is not the first time, its been a while since the last time I was on screen and I feel very strange at the thought of seeing that girl in the mirror on tv.

bad day 11:59 pm on Wednesday, December 5 2007

If you have heard me speak, you will know that I am only too well aware of all the good fortune I have - a home, a job, priceless friends and family. You will know that I am in touch with an unswerving sense of gratitude. You will also know that I acknowledge that sometimes there are bad days, and these are not only caused by the big things that go wrong, sometimes it is the small stuff that makes for a bad, or difficult day.

Its been a bit of a bad day. I suspect, given the way that I have been feeling, that it has been a catalogue of disaster that has been self-perpetuating.

I was due to talk, this evening, and looking forward to it. Although I already had a (unusual for me) heachache. The ache got worse as I sat on the M25, going nowhere, and all I could do was look at the clock tick by and the mileometer gather zero more miles.

In the end I had to turn around and come home, frustrated and cross. And it took me forever to get home. At which point it continued to go wrong. I was greeted by a naughty pup and the mess he had created (see previous post). I dropped a new glass jar of honey and shattered it. I broke the veg box in the fridge. The boiler went on strike - again. Brrrr. I told off the pup and as he leapt off my bed in shame, the full length mirror tipped over and shattered into a million pieces. And as I cleared it up I cut my hand.

Bah humbug. My rant is complete. I think the safest place for me is in the land of dreams, which is where I am heading. And I will wake and start again, tomorrow. New day.

puppy dog tales, ch. thirteen 11:48 pm on Wednesday, December 5 2007

Unlucky for some, number thirteen.

Unlucky for me, the latest update is the latest puppy consumption. I had a foul afternoon, it all went wrong, and I got home to the boy looking coy and guilty and the reason for this was scattered across the floor.

Candlewax. Everywhere. Oh Bill,

simple things 11:26 pm on Monday, December 3 2007

I am ready for bed, and it is where I am heading.

But before I go there I want to, and I will, curl up on the sofa for a few minutes. The cottage is cosy, candles are burning, music plays, the fire is glowing and I have a home that I cherish.

Jobs, work, chores, and tomorrow are all pending. They can wait. Tonight I will take precious time to indulge in and be present in, the here and now.

For this moment, there is nothing better, than being present in this moment.

wobble 12:01 pm on Saturday, December 1 2007

Something inside me shook yesterday and at the time it seemed to come right out of the blue and is something that I have never experienced before and I didn't like it.

Things have been very very busy, and pressured, but it has all been good stuff, and whilst the workload at the moment is slightly bonkers, I've simply been doing my best, and dont think I have pushed myself to do any more than that.

Nonetheless, the only explanation I can come up with as yet, for the trembles I felt, were that my body was saying enough! The basics are firmly in place - sleep, eat, walk, talk, but real - decent - time out has been sorely lacking.

I can't find much space right now. I need to make some.