#3goodthings [15 September 2013]

In honesty I find some aspects of the summer months on social media difficult, especially seeing those who only appear at these times because they have exotic holiday photos to share (and really how do they have the budget to take adult children with them too?)

Needless to say this now launches straight into pot-kettle-black because a bumper week for #3goodthings is based mainly round a few days holiday in Scotland, including landscape, the Scotsman's family history, local social history and some cake.. #grateful


9 Sep

afternoon tea at cloud 23 (a very late birthdays celebration)
watching the panoramic views while eating
seeing another rainbow


++++


10 Sep (in Scotland)

colourful architecture in Kirkudbright (a town of artist studios and a Scottish St Ives)
Wigtown, place of fifteen second hand book shops (and not much else), home to the Wigtown Book Festival and dwelling of the Scotsman's shoemaking ancestors

stones at Cairn Holy


++++


11 Sep (in Scotland)

driving past loads of fields of cattle and sheep and finally finding a whole family of 'belties' in a field by themselves (a breed local to Dumfries and Galloway only)

rain on the roof of the Leadhills Miners Library making the roof shine (it is the oldest subscription library in Britain, established in 1741 by a group of local Lead Miners)

Rab, the genial hotel owner and friend you never knew you had


++++


12 Sep (Leadhills, in Scotland)
being able to look inside the beautifully renovated cottage that used to belong to the Scotsman's grandfather (we happened to follow the new owner down the street)

sitting in the peaceful and beautiful cemetery at Leadhills, in untypical weather

exploring the site of an abandoned Lead Mine outside the Leadhills where many of The Scotsman’s ancestors once worked

++++

13 Sep (in Scotland)

a walk to another abandoned Lead Mine at Woodhead where more of The Scotsman’s ancestors once worked

totally unspoiled landscape on the walk with beautiful natural colours 

seeing an artisan stone mason at work restoring headstones in a churchyard

++++

14 Sep (in Scotland)

chance to take reflective water photos in Douglas

meeting ‘Jean’ who was at school with The Scotsman's father, her body is full of stents but her mind is sharp as a tack

and leaving Leadhills knowing we will return soon

270 gifts

silver celebration (a letter to the fly on the wall)

So, yesterday friends of ours celebrated their Silver Wedding. We, a small crew of friends and family assembled in the gloriously named Dog and Hedgehog. While we were arriving from the different places we call home, we broke and ate hunks of bread that had been dipped into bitter olive oil and sharp balsamic vinegar.

Not long after we sat down at the long table, flies started to appear. It bizarrely made eating indoors feel more like we were eating al fresco. But wine was flowing and beautiful food was beginning to arrive and so the insects were relegated to the league of minor occasional irritation.

'A day to remember all the good things' said my friend in her later speech, quipping that she had not had the opportunity twenty five years ago and was sure as anything going to make up for it. They had chosen to gather us, we who have weathered good times and bad, sometimes together, sometimes in our separate lives. To sit with them, break bread, drink wine and share delicious food. Applaud, cheer and celebrate all the goodness.

Flies on walls over the years have witnessed the joy and sad of the years of the collective; the illnesses, the births, the bereavements, the weddings, the broken relationships and the enduring.

Most particularly with our friends we have shared the goodness and pains of times in church leadership. Times of difficulty are more recent and therefore in sharper focus. Things go inexplicably wrong and are horribly messy, the wailing that no-one else understands, periods of dark doubt, and baggage of unmet expectations. At times closing in like hordes of insects, the overwhelming noise of buzzing is too hard to bear and their sheer numbers close to snuffing out the Light.

A short nod to those things too, in the conversation at the table, but an acknowledgement that they have shaped us over the years, not defined us. The fact is that the ones that matter are the ones who have remained.

Later when leaving our friends house the sky had darkened, the weather had closed in and a short, torrential downpour had started. As we drove west the Scotsman was momentarily struggling to see clearly through combination of heavy rain on the windscreen and the bright sunlight shining through ahead onto the wet road. He glanced in the rear view mirror and commented that I might like to look behind at the rainbow. Right over the place where we had just driven from, enhanced by the darkest of brooding grey skies was the most brilliantly clear rainbow.

Linking up with Ruth & Sabrina at #LettersTo (at Sabrina’s place this week)

beware the moose

Ok it was a late thought but I think, significant. 

Over the weekend I had a not so good day (full, heavy head and mental lethargy.) For once I forewarned The Scotsman rather than plough on, letting the negative cycle kick in, take over and spontaneously combust some time later exploding in our faces, with an all too familiar choreography.

While brushing my teeth at the end of the day it occurred that I am finally learning to speak up more when the bad days set up camp.

Over the years having unwittingly absorbed mum's tendency to put her own needs right at the back of the queue, it is all too easily second nature to do the same and I have long relegated feelings to the end of the line. Risky when they are screaming, kicking and demanding to be addressed. 

And I'm sure this has an effect when sharing well-being (or not-well-being) with others. If a person I am telling seems disinterested, I usually register fairly quickly and don't bother carrying on. But at home disinterest is tinder to the fire and I get into a cycle of not feeling valued if I haven't been listened to. I forget The Scotsman is human too and that's where the explosive confrontations occur.

I guess it might mean gambling more often, ploughing on and sharing frailties with others. Even in the face of perceived disinterest. And even when tentative hints lead to the other person taking over the break and filling it with themselves. 

It is glorious when my convoluted clues do break through and I know a connection has been made. 

Equal space


But not everyone can deal with vulnerability face to face 

In fact they might feel more at home being faced by an angry moose...