Breaking Negative Cycles

I spent a lovely day yesterday visiting my niece. Those of you who know my story, will know that my family situation was seriously dysfunctional. Social workers talk about 'the cycle of abuse', I read somewhere. They say it takes three generations for an abusive pattern to disappear. My niece has been estranged from her mother until recently, just as I was estranged from my sister, her mother. So I thought I would tell her some family stories.

When I think about it, there have been patterns that have indeed repeated themselves in our story, though they in themselves were not abusive. My mother married in her teens, as did my sister and myself, whilst my niece had her first baby in her teens. As we talked, we agreed that we had all done so to escape a difficult family situation. Of all of us, I am the only one to remain married to the same person; all the other relationships have broken up. My mother was estranged from her mother for a time, just as I was estranged from mine for over twenty years, my niece from hers. All for different reasons, but it's interesting to see those patterns emerge.

But it is equally interesting to see the patterns break. My own son, beloved, decided not to get married last year, as he felt it wasn't right for him. Another niece is pursuing a university degree, with no signs of marriage imminent. My sister's second marriage is over twenty years old (as it were). Whilst the niece I visited is bringing up two joyful, happy, secure children on her own. I'm sure it's not easy, but she is making a wonderful job of it!

Why am I telling you this? I think, because it is so hopeful. There has been so much pain in our family over the years, but there are clear signs that that pain is, if not over, at least muted. That our behaviours are no longer causing such pain in our children, and hopefully, that they will not adopt such behaviours with theirs, if and when they choose to have them. Tolstoi said that all happy families are the same, but that all unhappy families are unique in their circumstances (a misquote, but it's close). What he didn't add, was that change is possible, and that when it happens, the pleasure of creating strong familial ties is even stronger than it otherwise might be. If you are in the situation I was, take heart. Change is possible. And know that you are not alone, either. Lots of us struggle with such issues, and not only survive, but grow, change and learn. I wish you luck on the journey.

Starry, Starry Night...

I went for a wee wander around some blogs and found this quiz on Janine's blog.
She turned out as a Hermit...I, on the other hand, came out as a star. I love the stars; we have no street lights in the village, so we can see them clearly most nights... and the tarot card is intriguing. Does it match me? I would like to think so.

You are The Star

Hope, expectation, Bright promises.

The Star is one of the great cards of faith, dreams realised

The Star is a card that looks to the future. It does not predict any immediate or powerful change, but it does predict hope and healing. This card suggests clarity of vision, spiritual insight. And, most importantly, that unexpected help will be coming, with water to quench your thirst, with a guiding light to the future. They might say you're a dreamer, but you're not the only one.

What Tarot Card are You?
Take the Test to Find Out.

Happy Soup!

As I've said on this much neglected blog before now, when it gets cold, I start making soup. My friend Dean told me that sweet potato, eaten pretty much however you like, has tryptophan in it, an amino acid which encourages the production of serotonin in the brain. If, like me, you suffer from depression, that's a good thing to do; I take medication to help with serotonin uptake, but some natural help is not to be sneezed at. So now, soup with sweet potato in it is lovingly known as happy soup in our household. Hot, thick, rich and sweet tasting, it's delightful. I make mine with onions, carrots and turnip, with a few spices added just for interest (thai curry spices, if you're interested), but any veg that happen to be around can be added in. Find out more about this; just google sweet potato and depression. Not the most likely of combinations, but it works!

But if we're talking real comfort food, then there's nothing to beat Heinz Tomato Soup and some bread and butter...yum. I make my own tomato soups, but always have a tin of Heinz in the cupboard for emergencies. And it's good without bread, too (we ran out today, so I'm having some HTS without...). And there's some fruit loaf to follow. Not that I'm obsessed with food... but it is that kind of a day!

Life Is Simple...

when you're a parrot. Cupboard door shut? Och, just open it. Throw a few bits and pieces on the floor. Invite a friend to come and have a look around. Then get fed up and shut the cupboard door, only to change your mind and open it again... an entertaining cycle that could go on all day. Of course, it does nothing for the cupboard door....

I stopped to visit my friend Terry on the way back from York. She has a fair number of animals (though not as many as Alison, which is another story entirely); three cats, a dog, two horses, all of whom I met and stroked. Even Monty the Parrot! And didn't get bitten for my pains, for once. This is unusual; every time I've met Monty, he has given me a bit of a nip, which Terry assures me is 'affectionate'. A Likely Story. But isn't he gorgeous? I have some of his discarded feathers, which I keep promising myself to make into something or other... eventually... soon...

A Funny Thing Happened...

in the supermarket the other day. I had begun to pack my shopping, and Robin disappeared off to do something, buy a lottery ticket, I suspect, and just at that moment... the battery in my hearing aid failed. It beeps furiously when that happens. You would think that a couple of bleeps would suffice, just enough for you to screech and switch the *!?* thing off, but no, it seem to continue ad infinitum. That wasn't the funny thing, though. We had Rather A Lot Of Shopping, but the girl at the checkout, after the cursory, do you need help with your packing, was doing her best to ignore the fact that I was swamped and my assistant had disappeared. Until something fell off the conveyor belt. I didn't catch what she said, the first time, so she had to repeat it. Something fell off the conveyor belt. Oh, sorry, says I, I'm slightly deaf and my hearing aid just failed, so I'm not hearing as well as I could be. Oh, right, she says. And as I go to pick up whatever it was on the floor, she starts helping me to pack my shopping... and continues solicitously even after Robin reappeared and took over.

I can't begin to discuss the issues I see here. Does she think deaf people can't pack shopping? That I am less of a person for having some difficulty hearing? In which case, I wonder what would happen if I started wearing a 'Chronic Depressive' t-shirt? Would I get better service, or worse? Or was it all just a coincidence? I don't know. And probably never will. I thought it was funny, so I thought I'd share it with you. But my, it could get wearing... or incredibly useful...depending on how you look at it!

ps the image proves just who is in charge in this household. If there isn't food in the bowl in the studio, one of us cries until I go back to the house to supervise our eating. Not to add food, you understand, I top up the bowls before I go, just to be companionable while (usually) Mollie chomps her way through a few mouthfuls of dry cat food. Sigh.

It Seemed Like A Good Idea...

at the time, said Millie. Tidy garage, cat able to climb, roofspace looks inviting... I'm sure you can put two and two together with the image, and understand that Millie wasn't quite so happy about it once she'd done it... but she did manage to get herself down. Eventually. With a lot of mewing and crying and looking indignant. As if we'd forced her to go up into the garage roof.

My bloomer of the day is actually going to affect the week. Robin is away in Manchester until Friday; he rang last night to say that my handbag, complete with purse, was lying in his car. Oops. No credit cards, no cash... at least I have my keys here. Double ooops, as I'm going out with the girls on Thursday. Here's hoping the bank will cooperate and cash a cheque... it's not easy going to your branch when it is in Scotland, you are in England and you don't have any money or cards... Oh well. Good excuse to spend time with the art...if excuse were needed...

Poor Me...

says Advo. In the snow, and with A Sore Paw. Those of us who are observant will notice that he is holding up The Wrong Paw... the one with the elegant shaving at the shoulder is the one that actually had the tooth in it. That has healed nicely, but Advo is not a cat who will let an opportunity for petting and treats pass him by. How else do you think he developed that waistline (or lack of one...).