Accepting a donation

Instead of delivering Christmas cards to friends and neighbours in my wee village, I give a donation to charity. I started doing this in 2004 and was delighted when some of my friends joined in with me; together we raised the grand sum of £80. The following year, I decided to deliver a wee letter to every house in our village (around 350 or so) inviting all the residents to join in. I explained the idea, stated which charity I would be collecting for and promised that, on Christmas Eve, I would make up a ‘Village Christmas Card’ – which was basically a big poster – that would be pinned up on the notice board in our village square. The poster would wish everyone in our village a very merry Christmas from everyone that had donated to my collection. It would detail how much had been raised, and it would list everyone’s name who had handed in a donation. A sort of Communal Christmas Card! Enough people joined in to make it worth continuing with, so I’ve carried on every year since.

In 2005 we raised just over £500, in 2006 we raised just under £900 and every other year we’ve raised over £1000. Back in the beginning, the money was given to our village’s Elderly Welfare Committee but, in most recent years, I’ve passed the donation on to CHAS (the Children’s Hospice Association of Scotland).

Linda and Gregor

This year, I’ve decided to donate the money to a different charity again - The Scottish Cot Death Trust. I’ve recently become familiar with the incredible job this organisation does in supporting bereaved families, raising awareness and funding vital research through my very good friend Linda. Linda’s little boy, Gregor, died when he was just two years old and, although it was later found that Gregor had an overwhelming virus, his death was initially labelled as ‘Unexpected Death in Infancy’. He went off for an afternoon nap after being out to play one Sunday morning, and never woke up. I’m aware of how little financial support the trust receives from the Scottish government (only 3%), with the bulk of its funding coming directly from Joe Public. I’m also aware that only a tiny number of people are employed by this charity (4 full time and one part time) and that they’re based in a little office in Yorkhill Hospital. I’ve also learned that it’s the only charity in the whole of Scotland that’s dedicated to supporting families who’ve been bereaved through the sudden death of their infant by cot death and SUDI; raising funds for research into the causes of cot death and Sudden Unexpected Death in Infancy; raising public awareness of possible preventative measures; and educating the medical profession, police, the Procurator Fiscal’s office and all the other professionals who might be involved in dealing with the sensitive issues that occur following the sudden death of a baby or child.

So, after notifying the village residents that I’m doing the collection again and telling them which charity I’ve chosen this time around, envelopes containing varying amounts of cash or cheques have been tumbling through my letter box during the course of these past few weeks. I always ask folk to include a note of their names, so that they can be listed on the ‘Village Christmas Card’, and I’m always touched by the lovely messages that some of my fellow villagers write on their notes. This year I’ve had things like; “Thanks for doing this again Jane for another worthwhile cause”, “Another worthwhile charity, keep up the good work!”, and “Hope you and your family have a lovely Christmas!”. However, I was a wee bit taken aback – and a little upset – by the note written on the front of one of the envelopes that was delivered the other day. The envelope contained a cheque, made out to the Scottish Cot Death Trust, but on the front of the envelope was written, “I would prefer CHAS or the Hospice as the charity.” Just like that, nothing else.

My initial reaction was to take the cheque back to the person and tell them I’d rather they sent the money to their own chosen charity, than begrudgingly donate to the one I’d chosen. Then, I wondered if I should phone the person and explain that there isn’t a committee that sits in a smoky room spending hours discussing which charity best merits the village’s hard-earned cash and arguing over the best way to organise the collection – that it’s just li’l ol’ me. I contemplated sending him an email, explaining that we’ve raised well over £6000 for CHAS in recent years and that, in my opinion, there isn’t a sliding scale of which worthwhile cause deserves our donation most; that many, many charities do fantastic jobs and that people will always have their favourites often depending on whether or not they, their family or their friends, have benefited from the support given by one particular organisation. I thought about whether I should write a letter to the person, explaining how horrendous it is for families, like Linda’s, who lay their happy - and apparently healthy - little boy or girl down in their cots , kiss their foreheads and leave them to sleep soundly - only to return a short while later and find them dead. I thought about explaining, in a letter, that this scenario is more common than most folk think and that I think that the organisation - which is trying to help the families, authorities and scientists with everything related to sudden infant death - is one that I’m proud to support. I even considered climbing up on my high horse, knocking on this person’s door, and telling them face-to-face that I’ve personally supported CHAS, ‘the hospice’ (by which I think they mean Strathcarron) and various other charities for many years in many different ways. I don’t categorise one as more important than the other, and I have different personal reasons for supporting each of them. I can’t afford to give money to loads of charities, so I try to help in other ways, like handing bags into the British Heart Foundation shop, or volunteering for SAMS and Strathcarron for a few hours a week, or performing in fund-raising concerts for various different organisations or simply by talking and writing about issues to help raise awareness. I also thought about clarifying to this person that I totally respect everyone’s right to choose whether to join in with my wee Christmas card idea or not; some residents choose not to because they still like to hand out their own cards, some don’t want to donate to my chosen charity and some, as a matter of principle, don’t donate to any charities at all. I respect each and every one of those personal choices. What upset me a little bit was the fact that this person had decided to make a donation and have their name included on the ‘Village Christmas Card’ but had done it with a bit of a ‘Humph’ attached. And that’s why, initially, I wanted to tell this person to take their cheque and stick it where the sun no longer shines!

Anyway, after careful consideration, I decided against doing any of the above! I decided that I’d be cutting off my nose to spite my face. And I appreciated the fact that this person had parted with some of their money, whether begrudgingly or not. And I decided that I’d rather see the money being added to the pot, than handed back. And, finally, I decided that it would be far better to keep my thoughts on the matter firmly to myself......well, sort of.......!

Writing a wee poem about the Bertie

I think I should apologise to anybody reading this who doesn’t belong to the Heart of Scotland Choir. Yes, I am still harping on about our concert the other night!

I've not been sleeping all that well since Saturday (surely it can’t still be the adrenalin?!) so I spent some time late last night writing one of my wee poems. I’ve found - in the past - that scribbling a poem about an experience can help to unravel my thoughts about it. So, here's my thought-sorting ditty about the Bertie experience! I’ve recorded me reciting it as it doesn’t really make as much sense when you read it without my intonations (which is the same for most of my poems – and that’s why I’ll never win any prizes for poetry!!). However, Youtube's playing silly buggers with me tonight and I can't get the video to upload. So, the written version will have to do for now!

My thoughts on The Bertie Experience

When the choir last performed at the Bertie,
I was sat watching TV,
I’d never heard of Heart of Scotland,
It really meant nothing to me.

But luckily Gordon had gone along
With a crowd of his pals from school,
And when I went to pick him up
He was like, “Aw Mum, that was SO cool!”

So when we got home we looked on the web
And checked out the songs on Youtube,
I was like, “Wow, they’re awesome!
I didn’t expect them to be THAT good!"

Now, fast forward to nine months later
(As the whole story would take me an age)
To the choir’s next Bertie performance,
And there we were – up on the stage!

We first sang 'I’m So Excited'
As an opener, the perfect song
As all of our friends and our families
Could clap, cheer and sing along.

'I wish' I could bottle that feeling,
- So high you could 'Rule the World' -
By the time we sang 'Viva La Vida',
All tension and nerves had unfurled.

We sang 'Lean on Me' acapella,
And sounded like 'Angels' above,
It was just 'Like a Prayer' had been answered
As the audience showed us their love.

The appreciation continued
When we sang the next song in the show,
'This is Now' which was written
Just a few short weeks ago.

It's another one written for the choir
By Ray's two talented daughters
They write and support one another
Like a 'Bridge over Troubled Waters'!

The Simon/Garfunkel classic
Was a favourite at the Bertie, I’ve heard,
Jane and Drew sung so beautifully
And many a tear was shed.

The next song we sang is a belter,
It’s always sung out loud and proud,
So 'Firework' sung at the Bertie
Went down a real treat with the crowd!

I’ll pause here to mention how talented
Our choir leader Annie is,
Time and again her 'True Colours' shine through
And the gig at the Bertie showed this.

Not only did Annie play piano,
And direct so we knew what to do,
And sing with the choir and sing solos,
And chat to the audience too.

She’d also arranged nearly all of the songs,
In her own special wonderful way,
And 'Somebody Told Me' she’d taken the Juniors
Earlier on in that day!

'What a Wonderful World' she’s created,
Along with her talented sis,
In the truly special and magical thing
That the Heart of Scotland is.

The song that came next at the Bertie
Was the anthem that Greig sings so well,
Representing a story
Only 'Movin on Up' can tell.

And then it was nearly the interval,
Time to head back up the stair,
But not before we’d rocked the hall
With 'Livin on a Prayer'!

A quick chat with pals and a wee drink of juice
And plenty of plaudits already,
Before we went back to our place on the stage,
Though this time our nerves were more steady!

The opening song of the second half
Had the audience all going “Bless!”
When the choir weans lined up at the front
And gave 'Give it Away' their best!

Everyone was looking forward
- Choir and audience alike -
To hear Annie sing 'Here You Come Again',
A highlight, for sure, of the night.

We all clapped, were delighted to see
Our Annie take centre-stage,
With Steve on piano, Becky on drums
And the lovely Laurie on bass.

The musicians that night were all awesome,
We saw just how talented they are,
Including Dianne with her tambu
And John with his 'Babylon' guitar!

Team Sting then sang 'Every Breath You Take'
And they certainly did themselves proud,
Then we sang one of my favourite songs,
Annie’s 'Above the Clouds'.

It sounded just 'Perfect' and everyone gasped
When it was explained to them all,
That Annie had written this beautiful song
When she was just 13 years old!

'Don’t Stop Me Now' was another hit,
It’s a song that I really love,
The choir and the soloists just let themselves go
T’was the stuff that 'Sweet Dreams' are made of!

'Fix You' was lovely, and sung with such heart,
From the audience there wasn’t a peep,
Then Greig, Drew and Paul raised the tempo and roof
With the awesome 'Rolling in the Deep'.

Ruby had featured throughout the show,
But she captured everyone’s heart,
By enchanting us with her rendition of
'Flower of Scotland' right from its start.

Then it was time for 'Second Summer',
The song that we all adore,
But that meant the show was nearly done
And we would be singing no more!

The crowd weren’t ready to let us away though
Not quite that easily,
So we popped on our cheery Santa hats
For our special wee 'Christmas Medley'!

And then, that was it, the Bertie was done,
We bowed and walked off to the right,
We said our Goodbyes then we headed off home
To reflect on our fantastic night.

From learning the songs at rehearsals,
To finding the perfect red gear,
I loved the WHOLE Bertie experience,
And cant wait to go back there next year!

(13 December 2011)

....I’d hoped that doing this would give me a better chance of a good sleep tonight but, in a moment of madness, I agreed to let Gordon have the ‘after-party’ following his Senior Dance. Thirty odd sixteen year olds will be descending upon us at midnight - clad in their kilts and posh frocks and still raring to go - so I think the chances of me (or Alex) getting a good night’s sleep lie somewhere between slim and none! Ocht well, there’s always tomorrow night.....

...Several hours later...

Video has uploaded at last (though not sure I should be posting it as I'm looking pretty scary!)

Re-living the Bertie

My blogger friend from across the pond, Nicky, left a lovely comment on my last post and was asking if I'd have some nice photos of the choir gig. Judging by the amount of flashing that was going on, I'm pretty sure we'll have some good photos to treasure. In the meantime though, some folk in the audience were recording the concert with their phones. Since 'Fix You' has had a fair few mentions in my blog, I thought I'd post the choir's live version here for posterity. Hope you enjoy listening to it as much as I enjoyed singing it on Saturday.....

Buzzing from the Bertie

“I can’t wait till tomorrow night. Often the anticipation gives just about as much pleasure as the thing itself....”

This is the first line of the blog post that I never got round to finishing on Friday night. I’d intended going on to explain how excited I was about taking part in the choir’s concert in the Albert Halls in Stirling the following evening. I was going to say that I thought it would be a different kind of gig in comparison to all of the others that I’ve taken part in since joining the choir back in April. I would’ve explained that most of the other gigs have been part of something else; singing a few songs before the switching on of the Christmas lights; providing the entertainment at the interval of a fund-raising football match; warming up the crowd before a firework display; performing alongside other acts at various charity events and, of course, backing Annie during her TV appearance. I would probably have gone on to say that I’ve thoroughly enjoyed every single one of the things we’ve done so far - even when things haven’t quite gone to plan; like the time we stood out in the rain in the middle of a field, or the times the microphones haven’t worked properly, or the occasions where the stage hasn’t been big enough – and have so many happy memories of each and every one of these gigs. But I would most likely have said that the Albert Halls gig was going to be different because it was going to be the choir’s very ‘own’ concert. The bums on the seats would be there because the members of the audience had bought tickets to come and see the choir – the whole choir – and nobody but the choir. And, I’m pretty sure I would’ve said how excited I was that some of those bums were going to belong to nearly all of my family along with some of my closest friends (most of whom wouldn’t have heard the choir sing until the concert) and how special it would be to be up on stage - having an absolute blast - with my lovely choir family while my lovely real family and friends were out there in the audience to share the experience with me. I think I would’ve finished the post by saying that I was pretty sure I would be really nervous to begin with - and couldn’t imagine how nerve-wracking it must be for the choir’s fantastic soloists - but just knew that once we got going I would hopefully relax and have an absolutely brilliant night. The post would most likely have ended with a prediction that all the hard work that Annie and Jane put in, week after week, to ensure that we can all stand up, sing our hearts out, thoroughly entertain the crowd and have an awesome time to ourselves would more than pay off. The last line of Friday night’s post (had I not been distracted by a chattering Ross and Alex) would’ve said that I just couldn’t wait to have a night filled with special moments that, I was sure, would leave me with some very special memories.

.....the morning after the night before I’m still buzzing from the Bertie! So, it would seem that I would’ve been absolutely right on every single count with Friday night's post – and with bells on!

Remembering Gemma's starring role!

I was looking through some of the wee poems I've written over the years, and came across this wee ditty. You'll see that I'm no T.S. Eliot! This brought a wee tear to my eye; I know I'm biased, but Gemma really was the most beautiful little angel in her Primary School nativity....

The Brightest Star

Wisps of curling hair
Bounce together but fail
To dislodge the silver tinsel halo
So lovingly placed there.

Her star on a pole
Leads the line of white sheets
And shuffling black gutties
On angels' feet.

The chorus of ‘Noel’
Isn’t quite as planned.
Timing is lost
To waving hands

Tiny Tears stares blankly
From the bed of straw,
While shepherds (clad in Dads’ shirts and Mums’ tea towels)
Look down in awe

Three satin housecoats
Swish into the hall
And their wise little wearers
Dump gifts on the doll

Silence for the slightest moment.

Then, a crescendo of little voices
Beautifully sing
‘Hark the Herald
to our new born King!’

And, through smiling tears
I watch my wee star
Not for the last time
Shine brightest by far.

Starting Christmas early...

No matter when the tree goes up, the Milne household always follows the same tradition; silly Christmas hats have to be adorned, Christmas music has to be played, a wee drink or three has to be drunk, lots of chocolate decorations have to be eaten (‘because the string was broken...’), a few sweary words have to be muttered while the dreaded lights are sorted out, and we have to coorie up on the couch to watch ‘Elf’ or ‘The Grinch’ after the last bobble has been hung.

And, even though the Milne kids are all over sixteen years old, this year was no different.

....In fact, this year was a bit different, now that I come to think of it, as the tree went up earlier than ever before. Ironic really; when I think of all the years, when they were little, that the kids wanted to put the tree up as soon as they’d opened the first door on their advent calendars. “It’s far too soon!”, we’d say, and we usually managed to put them off till just a week or so before Christmas Day. So, why so early this year? Well, simply because last night was the only time in December that we could all manage to be in the house long enough to see our tradition through!

I guess I have to accept - sooner or later - that our putting-up-the-tree tradition will no longer be a whole-family affair. However, it made me feel all toasty inside when Ross and Gemma said they wanted to be here – and that’s the reason we went for it yesterday! I guess some folk might think it’s all a bit soft, but it’s a tradition that represents what Christmas is all about for us; just enjoying being together and having some good fun.

....Actually, now that I come to think of it, this year was a bit different for another reason; whoever came up with LED lights deserves a medal! I’m sure ours won’t be the only home that’ll enjoy a much more peaceful festive season without having to find that elusive dud bulb! In fact, not one sweary word passed the lips of Santa this year as he unfurled and plugged in his new set of shiny LED lights! Bliss!

You're never too old..........

Being shortlisted!

I spent a fair amount of time recently putting together an application for a charity placement so I was absolutely delighted yesterday when I received confirmation that I’d been shortlisted for one of the available places. According to their website, over 11,000 folk applied to the Vodafone Foundation World of Difference scheme last year (which I first mentioned in this post), so I’m chuffed to have made it to the final 750!

Basically, the foundation funds 500 UK placements in the hope that the recipients will ‘make a difference’ to their chosen charity. As much as I get a whole load of satisfaction out of volunteering, I couldn’t afford to devote 15 hours a week for a four month period doing it. So, the idea is that the foundation pays the charity to ‘employ’ people for a short spell who would love to have a go at doing more for their chosen charity; it’s not a huge amount of money you’re paid, but it would be enough to allow me to justify sacrificing some of my ‘work, work’ time to doing more for Strathcarron Hospice.

The application process involved: coming up with a proposal of how I could ‘make a difference’ to Strathcarron; presenting it to the Hospice for their approval; then presenting it to the foundation judges in the form of an online submission. There was also an option to submit a supplementary video and, as I figured it was important to use every possible option available to make the application stand out from the other however-many-thousand that the judges would be sifting through, I wrote, recited and recorded me reading a wee poem about my plan to help the hospice. (I know it sounds naff, but I guess it kind of worked!)

So, some time during the next few weeks: my referees will be contacted; the hospice will be contacted (to check that they’re fully behind me working for them); and I’ll be contacted for a telephone interview (Help ma boab!). Then I’ll be told, anytime up to the middle of January, if I have a place. Once I know whether I’ve made it or not to the winning 500, I’ll be able to say more about what I’d actually be doing at the hospice, but I don't feel right about doing that till the placements have been awarded.

Suffice to say that the jist of my proposal would involve bringing ‘A Myriad of Music’ to the hospice, so it just seemed fitting that music has featured a lot in what’s been making me happy over the past few days. One of the things I miss most about the kids being away from home is the ‘sound’ of them being around the house. So, singing along with Gemma, as she was pottering about at the piano on Saturday afternoon when she was home for a flying visit, was just braw. I started secretly recording her with my phone – I’m obviously biased, but I just love to hear Gemma play and sing – and the wee video below is us giving it big licks with one of the songs that we love to sing together (I’m giving it my best shot with the low harmony that I’ve been taught at choir in the background! Hope I'm not infringing on Annie and Jane's copyright!). Me and Gemma would never make it on X Factor (thank goodness!), but the pleasure we get out of having a sing-song together beats all the fortune that that that kind of fame could bring!

So, that was the first thing. Then, I had choir last night. We’re full in the throes of rehearsing for our concert at Stirling’s Albert Hall on the 10th of December (have I mentioned that before?!) and last night the band that’ll be accompanying us came along to practise. I absolutely loved it. Aw man, I could’ve stood there singing all night. And, one of my favourites of the night was the one that Gemma and I had been playing around with on the wee video; Coldplay’s ‘Fix You’. It was the first song I learned with the choir, and it’s one of our family favourites. Just seemed so apt that it was so awesome last night.

Lastly, Alex and I are heading through to the Playhouse in Edinburgh tonight to see ‘We Will Rock You’. In a similar vein to the real Queen having two birthdays, me and Alex have two anniversaries; the 28th of June (to celebrate the day we got married) and the 29th of November (to celebrate the night we started going out – 31 years ago today!). So, what better way to round off my ‘Myriad of Music’ weekend than going to a musical that celebrates the music of a band that I love with the man that I love!

I'm feeling quite brave posting this wee video, I think I'm a bit carried away with the excitement of the past few days! No doubt I'll regret it tomorrow and pull it off the blog, but, in the meantime, here's me and Gemma making some noise (with no pictures to go with it)!

Being lucky

Another busy week’s nearly over and, in the light of something that I was reminded of on Thursday, it wasn’t down to good luck that I had a good week; it was more likely because I’d been willing to explore new opportunities!

My pal Linda had asked me if I fancied going along to a Psychology Conference in Edinburgh. I didn’t have much time to look at the gumph but I said I’d go as (a) I’d noticed that one of the speakers had written one of my Open Uni text books (b) because I thought it would look good on my CV and (c) because even if the conference was rubbish, I knew I’d enjoy spending a day away with Linda! The idea that I might be inspired and thoroughly entertained had never even crossed my mind - but I was...and I had a blast with Linda into the bargain.

The premise of the conference was to enthuse and encourage folk not only to study psychology, but also to emphasise the importance of weeding out the ‘bad science’ approach. In other words, encouraging the psychologists of the future to properly test their theories and produce sound evidence to back up their conclusions. It was aimed primarily at A level students, so Linda and I fitted in perfectly well as we could easily have been one of the accompanying teachers...! We watched and listened to various presentations by some fairly eminent psychologists, all of which I thoroughly enjoyed, however my favourite - by far - was by Professor Richard Wiseman. Do you know the guy I mean? I’d heard of him, but couldn’t quite place him, then, when he started his first wee spiel, I thought I recognised him from the telly. Well, it turns out that he’s pretty well-known. He’s got a massive following on Twitter, Youtube and that kind of thing – but I think I recognised him from his time on ‘Tomorrow’s World’! (I know, I’m really showing my age here!)

Anyway, he’s really entertaining in the way that he presents his work – probably because he’s a magician and illusionist as well as a Professor of psychology. Some of Derren Brown’s latest batch of telly programmes, ‘The Experiments’ were actually based on Richard Wiseman’s research. It kind of bugs me that more emphasis isn’t placed on the fact that Brown’s ‘ambitious sociological experiments’ (his own words) are all based on hypotheses that have already been devised, tried, tested and proven in controlled experiments by qualified psychologists, before he decides to turn them into prime time glossy entertainment shows. But, I noticed that Professor Wiseman was an advisor to the production team, so I guess he must be OK with the way the programmes were presented – and I suppose they do introduce the ideas behind the research to a much wider audience.

Back to the conference; one of the presentations that Richard Wiseman gave on Thursday revolved around his experiments on ‘luck’. He’s scientifically shown that there’s not really such a thing as ‘good or bad luck’. The people who call themselves lucky are much more likely to be the kind of folk that’ll grab opportunities as they arise; they’ll go for it, try new things, take chances, have a wider view of what’s going on round about them (so are more likely to see opportunities that present themselves) and will have more of a ‘cup-half-full’ approach to life. There obviously has to be some element of chance involved, but he showed that you can significantly increase those chances if you have a more positive state of mind, be more sociable, live in the moment and grab any opportunities you do encounter. I just thought it was brilliant to witness someone getting across to a young, impressionable audience - in not only an engaging and entertaining way but also backed up with hard evidence - the merits of not sitting on your ass waiting for good things to happen to you, or doing the opposite and being too focussed on one long-term goal.

I definitely got my attitude of ‘try to make the most of what’s going on around about you at the moment, and the future is more likely to be brighter’ from my Dad. Which is a bit ironic as I was ‘unlucky’ enough have my Dad snatched away from me by a heart attack when he was only 57 years old. But, one of the things that’s always given me a bit of comfort is the knowledge that my Dad made the most, and looked on the bright side, of most of his days. Even the shitty ones. He always tried to look for the positive slant on things; he was usually cheery and he taught me that life’s very much what you make it. If you’re not happy with the way things are in your life, try to change them. Now, I know that’s a bit simplistic and idealistic, and there can be a whole stack of reasons why it’s not easy to do that. I’m certainly not brimming with happiness every moment of every day, and sometimes it’s really difficult to see the silver lining. But, it’s something I aspire to do – and it’s something I’m delighted that my kids seem to have grasped. I love that they all try to make the most of what’s going on at the moment. They don’t let the long-term goal get in the way of enjoying the present day (at least they try not to). It’s like that common ‘pushy parent’ thing. If you keep harping on at your kids that they have to be the best in school, or in their sport, or in their dance class or whatever, they might well accomplish all of those things; but they’ll probably have a pretty miserable journey on the way - and will probably still be miserable once they’ve reached those goals. On the other hand, if they’re leading well-rounded lives, being sociable, being praised for making an effort and finding new things that make them feel good, they’re possibly more likely to succeed – maybe not in the thing that their parents wanted them to, but they’ll hopefully continue to be generally happy.

Oh dear, this post has turned into a bit of a dis-jointed ramble, but I actually find it quite difficult to put it all into words! I think I’m basically saying that Richard Wiseman’s presentation was brilliant because he stood in front of me and expressed what goes on in my head when I think of my ideal way of approaching life. Try to make the best of it – it can be really crap sometimes, through ill-health, losing someone we love, losing a job, running out of money, ocht, a whole multitude of things – but, if we can somehow manage not to give up, and be open to any new opportunities that might come along, all the shitty things might just be a wee bit easier to deal with – we’ll hopefully experience a change in our luck! It won’t work for everyone, or every situation, but it’s the way I like to try to be. There are times that I do find it hard to see the sunshine through the rain, and at those times good family and friends (or anyone else that can lend an empathic ear!) can be invaluable. But, just as Richard Wiseman has proved beyond doubt, optimism plays a vital role in turning things around and most of us do have the ability to change our mindset. If you go looking for a change in luck, you’re much more likely to find it.

Anyway, where’s that lottery ticket I was filling in earlier......

Lots of things in a busy weekend - and chatting to Des and Jennie!

I’ve got up this morning feeling happy knackered and looking forward to another busy week ahead.

Saturday was spent up in St Andrews with Gemma and Alex supporting Ross in the Scottish Uni Cross Country Championships. He had a brilliant run and I was so proud to see him coming in as a counter for the Strathclyde team – the cherry on the cake was a silver medal for his efforts! Being up there on Gemma’s ‘Uni’ home turf somehow made the day even more special and we really enjoyed spending time with her over a chatty lunch after the race. I was spoiled, having Gemma at home for a full week a couple of weeks ago, and the house has been feeling too empty ever since.

Saturday night was spent in Larbert singing with the choir at a gig to raise funds for Kidney Research. One of the girls in the choir, Pauline, had arranged the evening to celebrate a family success story. Her gorgeous wee niece had received the gift of a kidney from her own Dad - Pauline’s brother - just over a year ago. The night was made so much more special by being able to see a successful result of the fantastic work that renal units do every day. And, aw man, the Bellshill Sally Army Brass Band were playing too. I love the sound of a big brass band, but they were in a league of their own! Honest – they were brilliant! They did spine-tingling renditions of things like the music from Lion King, Andrew Lloyd Webber songs and the most beautiful version of My Love is Like a Red Red Rose. I don’t think there was a dry eye in the hall. I never could’ve imagined that I would write a blog post about how good it made me feel to be sharing a stage with the Salvation Army on a Saturday night! I love life’s unexpected moments of lovliness! Great car-chat on the way home with my buddy, Christine, topped off a fabulous night.

Most of Sunday was spent in front of the computer doing some work for a charity placement scheme I’m applying for, but I had a lovely break from it in the afternoon to sing with the choir at the switching on of the Christmas lights in Stirling. Annie had been told, by the organisers, that only a few people could stand up on the stage so my wee section – the low harmony group – were up there, undercover, with Annie. It felt really weird looking over to the rest of the choir - standing in a cordoned off area outside in the intermittent rain - and just not being all together. As ever, we just all got on with it and Annie made sure we made the best of a difficult arrangement – it certainly can’t have been easy for her, having to coordinate us all while we were spread all around. However, as professional as ever, she just got on with it and made the very best of the difficult situation. We always sing live, with no recorded backing tracks or anything like that, and that can sometimes make things much more testing – especially in an outside environment, or when there aren’t enough microphones provided – but if the Heart of Scotland choir are asked to perform, they perform live. That can make the performance technically much more challenging, but Annie and Jane are never afraid to meet those challenges head on.

It was the first gig that Ross has made it along to. I felt so great when I saw him standing there, out in the rain, looking knackered (he’d had a late night out celebrating the events of the day before with his running pals), supporting his auld maw doing her wee thing. And, he’d really enjoyed it -even with the sound issues at some points during our set - he heard enough to give us a big seal of approval! To round off the excitement, I had a hug and a chat with Des and Jennie!! You know who I mean? They do the Breakfast Show on Capital Radio. Anyway, when we came down off the wee stage, they were standing waiting to go on. I made a bit of an arse of myself (remember, the endorphins are always flowing when you sing, so I was a wee bit over-excited!) by being a wee bit over-zealous in my chat to them, but they were really lovely and humoured me by chatting and telling me they thought the choir sounded brilliant! Feeling brave with the confidence that feeling great gives you, I said, “Aw, that’s so great! I’m so glad you liked it. So, when can we come on your show then?” Des told me to email him the details and, as long as we could sing something modern, he’d see what he could do! Ocht, maybe he was just humouring me, but it was so nice of him to spend the time to chat! I had a bit of a mild panic later, thinking about how it’s not my place to go telling folk we’ll perform for them – but hopefully Annie and Jane didn’t mind too much – especially if we do manage to get a wee slot on Capital, or even a wee plug for our concert in a few weeks at the Albert Halls in Stirling! (10th of December, if you’d like to come along!)

Back at home, a nice meal with the family (except Gemma) followed by the completion – in the wee small hours – of my placement application topped off a really great weekend. I’m heading out for a busy day of bits and bobs shortly, but first, I think I’ll send that email to Des and Jennie – just in case they were serious about having a wee visit from a great choir with a big heart to their studios. And, let’s face it, nothing ventured......

A feel-good advert

Oh dear, that was a bit of a grumpy post, that last one. A wee bit of a viral thingy, a sleepless night and I turn into Victor Meldrew! Tut, tut.

It doesn't make me feel good having such a whinging post at the top of my blog, but I don't have time to write anything much just now as I'm heading back out the door soon. So, instead, here's the John Lewis Christmas advert; it brings a lump to my throat and makes me feel good every time I see it!

Looking forward to being more like me again

Along with everyone and their granny, I’ve been feeling rubbish over the past few days. It’s some flu-like thing - one of many wee bugs that’ve been doing the rounds - and it really floored me. I thought I was over the worst of it so I carried on as normal yesterday; starting with an early morning SAMS shift, followed by work work and a meeting at the hospice during the day, topped off by choir practice in the evening. However, I’m now paying the price for not spending one more day doing bog all as now - at 4.30am - I’m feeling so lousy I can’t sleep.  

Lying awake in the wee small hours when you desperately want to be fast asleep must be one of the most frustrating things. I really feel for anyone who suffers regularly from insomnia. I used to go through long periods of sleepless nights - particularly when I was recuperating from any one of a number of operations I underwent some years ago - but I’m fortunate to be affected by it now only on the very odd occasion. 

While I’m sitting here, cooried up on the couch (having abandoned bed as Alex’s snoring is too much of a loud and constant reminder that I’m very much awake instead of very much asleep!), my head’s too puggled to think of anything very much that’s making me feel good at the moment. I decided to write a post though, as this blog isn't meant to be all about life being wonderful and rosy all the time; it's more about me finding something good in my day, even if that day hasn't been the best.

So, here in the wee small hours, at this very moment in time, what's really making me feel good? Simply the thought of a good night’s sleep and starting to feel a bit more like myself...

Roll on tomorrow!

Watching Gareth Malone do his thing

I love watching Gareth Malone at work. D’you know who I mean? I first saw him on the telly a couple of years ago when he took a bunch of bored, disillusioned folk from a deprived area down in England - South Oxhey - and transformed them into a fantastic community choir. I thoroughly enjoyed the series and I remember saying to Alex, ‘I really wish there was something like that here in Stirling. I’d love to be a part of that kind of choir...’.  What a difference a couple of years can make!

I suppose, up until then, I’d always thought of choirs as consisting of big groups of classically-trained singers who could all read music, stood in a regimented group at the front of a church or concert hall, moved nothing except their very wide mouths, held matching black folders, wore matching white or black shirts and hauntingly harmonised the kind of songs that I’d never sing in the shower.  I obviously knew about gospel and rock choirs, but if anyone had told me they were a member of a choir, the classical churchy set-up is the one that would’ve sprung to my mind. I remember looking for a choir in the Stirling area and the only ones I could find were of the choral music, traditional sort. One that I came across at the time was the Stirling City Choir, so it was nice to go along to one of their performances held in my mum’s church last night. The evening was called ‘A Festival of Gifts’. In my naivety, I thought the idea was for the church’s members simply to benefit from the gift of beautiful music. What the idea actually turned out to be was to entice the church members in with the promise of some beautiful singing then hit them with a power-point presentation detailing the state of the church’s finances and explaining lots of different ways that the members could improve the state of the church’s affairs in the form of different financial ‘gifts’! Hmph. Still, I had a lovely night. Gemma came along and we joined my mum and her good friend Jan; we were all a bit like the cheeky school-children in amongst the pretty staid audience, but we sat back and thoroughly enjoyed the choir’s beautiful performance (except the part when they got a wee bit lost with their ‘Amens’ during the Amen Chorus). It really brought it home to me though that I made the right choice by not joining a more traditional choir. It just seemed so serious and, well, stuffy if I’m being honest. There just didn’t seem to be any kind of mojo about them. Ocht, I’m sure the members love their choir and have great fun at their rehearsals – and they certainly produced a beautiful sound – but it just didn’t produce the same kind of ‘feel-good’ vibe that I like to think oozes from the Heart of Scotland; the choir that I’m now very privileged to be a member of.

Anyway, I’ve totally digressed from Gareth! When we came home last night we settled down to watch his new series on the telly. Aw man, it was such a good opening programme. This time he’s taking a group of military wives and girlfriends and forming them into a community choir while their partners are away on a tour of duty in Afghanistan. It really brought it home to me just how difficult it is for these women, and their children, when they’re left behind on the base. So, the idea is that Gareth is giving them something to focus on; something that’ll raise their self-confidence and also bring them closer together to support each other through the trials and tribulations of living on a pretty isolated military base while coping with the emotional turmoil of the long wait for their partners to return home, hopefully, safe and sound.

One of the most touching parts of the programme was when Gareth asked the women to audition for a solo part. Initially no one would come forward. You could almost hear what some of them were thinking, just by looking at the expressions on their faces: “There’s no way I’m doing that, I might make a complete ass of myself”, or “I know I could sing that, but I don’t want folk to think I’m a show-off” or “I think I could sing that, maybe not brilliantly, but I think I could just about manage it. But I’m too shy to give it a go”. However, with some gentle coaxing and persuasion by Gareth, some of the women hesitantly made their way to the front and sang the solo audition piece. It brought a big lump to my throat. It’ll seem like such a trivial thing if you didn’t see the programme, or haven’t witnessed or experienced that kind of thing, but it was honestly so inspiring to see these woman find the courage that it takes to stand up and sing alone in front of folk. It's a different kind of courage to the kind required by their partners out in Afghanistan, but it's courage all the same. The woman who, for me, stood out – not because she was the ‘best’ singer, but simply because she sang straight from the heart – was the one chosen to sing the solo. When the time came for the choir to do their first public performance, the companionship, camaraderie, boosted confidence, positive vibe and sheer feel-good factor were almost tangible throughout. It was brilliant TV.

 
I'm so chuffed that, after spending a good while looking, I did eventually find the choir in Stirling that totally floats my boat (I may just have mentioned it in previous posts...!). We have two of our very own Gareth Malones in the form of Annie and Jane, we have a whole bunch of folk who've benefitted in so many different ways from being a member of a very special community choir, and when we sing I reckon we mostly do it straight from the heart. Yup, much of Gareth's programme last night felt very, very familiar....

Being a bit envious, but still loving my mum

We had a nice wee family celebration dinner here at home yesterday for my Mum’s 75^th birthday. Mum has trouble convincing folk that she’s in her seventies. For a start off, she has the most amazing head of thick, black, shiny hair and has never (and I mean never) used a drop of hair dye. The odd wee strand of grey has appeared during these past few years, but nowhere near enough to tip the balance so that ‘grey’ has become a more apt description of her hair colour than ‘black’. It’s so bloody unfair! I’ve had to use dye to cover my grey hair for ages; why could I not have inherited my mother’s hair genes? Also, my mum has gorgeous skin. I joke not when I say that I don’t remember her ever having a spot and she’s still almost wrinkle-free. I, on the other hand, have always had rubbish skin. I’ve always been prone to plukes (I’ve actually been sporting a cracker on my chin for this past week, as pointed out by my mother when she said - in the way that only a mother can - “that’s some size of a spot on your chin”...) and I already have lots of, ahem, laughter lines around my mouth and eyes. Ocht! Why could I not have inherited my mother’s skin?

Never mind, I guess all that stuff’s pretty superficial. The most important things are the things I’ve learned from my mum. And, I’ve probably had just about the best teacher I could’ve had in the ‘How to be a good Mum’ school of life! I really couldn’t have asked for a more supportive, loving and caring person to be my mum and my pal during the past 46 years. Aw, thanks maw!

I’ve also had just about the best teacher I could’ve had in the ‘How to be a brilliant home-baker’ stakes, but I think I must’ve fallen asleep in that class! The only thing I’m good at, when it comes to home-baking, is licking the bowl and spoon. Aye, she might be getting on a bit, but my mum’s clootie dumpling is still the best I’ve ever tasted. I know it sounds bad that she had to bake the dumpling for her own birthday dinner, but I wouldn’t even contemplate taking over the mantle of the family clootie-dumpling-maker while my mother’s still going strong! I do know that some day in the future I’ll have no choice but to inherit that very important family role – but I’m sincerely hoping that that day is a long way off and it’ll still just be my job to lick the bowl and spoon for many more years to come...!

My lovely Mum, and her lovely dumpling!

Folk dressed up, a fab wee gig and a fab wee gig

I had a head like a burst ball this morning following one beer too many and a late night to bed. However, feeling a bit rough this morning was a small price to pay for the great night Alex and I had out in Stirling. After a busy Satur-day, we'd decided to go out for a wee meal then support a friend’s gig at a local pub at night. 

Now, I might just be imagining it, but I’m pretty sure that Halloween used to just be all about kids going out guising on the 31^st of October and the odd fancy dress party here and there. I don’t remember folk going out on the town, just for a drink, dressed up for Halloween. Have things changed, or am I just suffering from middle-aged fuzz again? Anyway, we had a great laugh watching all the witches, ghosties, Buzz Lightyears, fairies, Minnie Mice, monsters, Elvis’s,  Harry Potters and such like walking past the window of our restaurant in various states of inebriation! If I could’ve given out prizes as they passed by, Goofy and Pocahontas linked arm-in-arm to help support a very merry Freddy Kruger would definitely have been awarded the winning trophy! We hadn’t expected such first class entertainment as we sat blethering, so the night got off to a good start. (I must admit; I do feel like a bit of a hypocrite here; normally I would’ve been shaking my head seeing quite so many young folk quite so drunk quite that early on in the evening. However, I just couldn’t help laugh at the sight of so many steamin Spider Men and paralytic Pirates ....!) 

By the time we made it to the pub, it was absolutely heaving and The Boos Bros had already started their set. I’ve not known Greig all that long – just since I joined the choir back in April – but I’ve known him long enough to appreciate that he’s a genuinely nice bloke with a genuinely fantastic voice! The Boos Bros consists very basically of Greig and his friend John – but John’s skills on the guitar are far from basic and, matched with Greig’s voice, they make an awesome team. I don't know where they get their energy from; not only had they done a gig the night before, they'd also performed at a local charity event that afternoon. Yet they kept the lively crowd – and its many fantastic costumes - thoroughly entertained. We had such a great time and it was with a definite - though wobbly - spring in our step that Alex and I made our way to the taxi rank in the wee small hours.

As if that wasn't enough, our evening's entertainment continued when we joined the queue at the taxi rank. I could hardly contain myself when Woody held up his plastic gun and shouted to the line of vampires, evil doctors and zombies that he'd shoot any f****r that tried to skip him in the queue! The resulting laughter summed up the good natured frivolity that we'd been part of all night.

My thumping head cleared up in plenty of time today for another great wee choir gig that was supporting yet another really worthwhile cause (the local neo-natal unit). I don't think I was the only choir member that was suffering; some had been partying till late last night, some have been struggling with a flu-type virus that's going around and some had been singing at three other gigs over the course of the weekend! But, there we all were, doing our thing as usual; singing together, looking out at smiley faces and just enjoying being with our pals.

So, I'm knackered now. But I've had a great time - and you can't beat being happy knackered at the end of a good fun weekend.

Being taken for a mug then receiving an apology

I’ve been pretty busy since my last post – with things like a late-night choir gig, a two day trip down to London, a two day ASIST course, a choir rehearsal, a SAMS shift and work work – so I’m enjoying a night of doing absolutely nothing. OK, so I’m obviously not doing absolutely nothing as I’m sitting listening to some good tunes and writing my blog, but you get the jist! 

It’s really tempting to start from Friday and note down everything that’s made me feel good, but Alex and Gordon will be back home from training soon and I promised myself I’d be finished on the computer by the time they arrived back. So, I’ll pick out one little thing. It’s the sort of little thing that doesn’t happen all that often, it’s pretty simple but it made me feel great. Basically, what happened was that this young guy sat me down, looked me straight in the eye then sincerely apologised for trying to deceive me... 

I’d booked the hotel, that we stayed in down in London, through one of those last minute websites and had managed to get a brilliant deal for a deluxe room in a really nice place. It had the added attraction of being just a few minutes walk from the Saturday night function – the thing we’d travelled down to London for – and was just up the road from Covent Garden. The function was The Champion’s Life Academy Award Ceremony and we had a fantastic night. CLA’s the company that Gemma worked for during the summer and this was an opportunity for the employees to get some recognition and awards for their efforts and achievement. It was especially lovely to meet Gemma’s friends and it became clear why they’d all worked, and lived, so well together as a team. I hadn’t quite grasped how much money they’d all raised for some really worthwhile causes, so Alex and I were extremely proud to see Gemma and her pals collect the ‘Top Team’ award. She received other accolades throughout the evening, but that was the one that meant the most. So, all her hard work and long hours over the 12 week summer period were definitely well worth it! 

I knew that would happen! I’ve digressed. Back to the receptionist at the hotel. So, while he was going through the usual gumph that’s required when checking in, he asked if we would like to upgrade to a junior suite for a discounted price. I politely refused and said we’d settle for the deluxe room at our bargain price, thank you very much. He plithered about on the computer, smiling and chatting all the time, then excused himself while he ‘sorted something out’ in the back office. When he came back, he handed us our keys and wished us a pleasant stay. “Oh!” he said as we were about to walk away, “there might be someone from housekeeping in your room; they’re just finishing it off at the moment.”  

We opened the door (using the slidy key card, in complete contrast to our Glenskirlie key) and walked in, expecting to see – at the very least – a nice, big double bed and a bit of floor space. But there wasn’t. Not a double bed and not any floor space. Instead, there was the tiniest wee bed in the corner (in complete contrast to our Glenskirlie bed) with one set of pillows. There was one glass at the side of the bed, there was one cup by the kettle and there was one set of towels in the wee bathroom. This was a single room. ‘Och’, I thought, ‘they’ve made a wee mistake’. So, I phoned down and reminded our friendly receptionist that we were supposed to be in a double room.

“But madam, you are in a double room!”

“Sorry?!”

“Room 307 is definitely a deluxe double room. I know exactly which room you're in and it's definitely a deluxe double room.”

“Do you think I button up the back? This isn't even a double room, never mind a deluxe double room!”

“Please, madam, you are definitely in a deluxe double room – but since you're unhappy I will check to see if any other rooms are available and call you back in a moment.”

Just as I put the phone down, there was a knock on the door. Alex opened it  to find the lady from housekeeping standing in the corridor, laden down with a set of pillows, a glass, a cup and a set of towels.

“Hello sir. Sorry to disturb you. I’ve been told to make this single room into a double room. I’ve to put these things in. Is it OK to come in?”

Aw man, it was perfect timing!

When the receptionist called back, I interrupted and spared him the misery of trying to convince us again – as he'd started to do – that we were definitely in a double room by telling him that the maid had just arrived and confirmed that we were definitely in a single room. Silence on the line was followed by a request for us to stay put while he organised for a porter to escort us to another room.

The big room we ended up in was lovely (think it was bigger than the deluxe we'd paid for!) but I was pretty angry that the guy had tried to shaft us. Anyone who knows me well knows that I won’t hesitate to complain – in the nicest possible way - about bad service. So, when we were heading out later, I made a bee-line for our receptionist and made it clear how disappointed I was that he’d tried to deceive us. He immediately apologised and assured us that we would be looked after when we checked out the following morning. I was delighted that he’d held his hands up and apologised, instead of making up some cock-and-bull story; that alone was enough to make me feel better about what had happened and I told him so.

However, the following morning as we arrived at the check-out desk, our friend asked if he could have a word with us. He came out from behind the counter and led us over to comfy chairs in the corner. Now, I have to be honest and admit that, at that moment, I was thinking “Ya beauty! We’re going to get a free night or something!!” However, what we actually got was something far better. He looked me straight in the eye and said:

“I am so, so sorry about the way I treated you yesterday. I got myself in a muddle because when you arrived I realised there were no deluxe double rooms left. I tried to get you to take the suite, then I decided to put you in a single dressed up as a double. I’m so sorry. I don’t usually take my work home with me, but I was thinking about this all of last night and I’m just really embarrassed and quite ashamed. I’ve learned a lot from this. I’ll not be doing anything like it again.”

Now, I know there’ll be folk reading this thinking, ‘Yeh, right! He was still at it and just said all that to placate you’. Well, I honestly don’t think it was like that at all. I really believed him – and so did Alex. He didn’t need to speak to me about it again. He’d apologised the day before and he could just have handed us our discounted bill and been done with it. I thought it took a lot of guts to sit opposite me, in a big plush foyer with lots of people milling around, and say all of that. I told him I was touched that he’d taken the time to speak to me so personally...then I asked what discount we were getting...nah, I'm only kidding! He actually offered that information without me having to ask.

 
So, we had a fantastic (cheap) weekend away and it made me feel great that a nice young man had the decency to apologise in such a personal and honest way for trying to treat me like a mug. 

Enjoying being a SAM

During last night’s twilight shift at Samaritans, me and my fellow on-duty SAM were chatting about how difficult it sometimes is to think of the best way to describe how being a Samaritan makes us feel. 

When anyone asks me, “So how is it, working for Samaritans?”, I usually respond with a cheerful, “Oh, I really enjoy it!”.... Before the words have even dropped out of my mouth, I already have a sense that the person asking the question is going to raise their eyebrows and be a wee bit surprised by my answer! However, if I’m being totally honest, that really is how I feel.  

Last night, after leaving the house at 10, I really did enjoy spending 4 hours in the wee duty room; blethering to my colleague, catching up on some SAMS reading material, answering the phones and just being there for callers. I also enjoyed the drive home; I love that middle-of-the-night thing of belting out my favourite playlist to a deserted (give or take the odd Eddie Stobbart lorry) M9! And, because the house was baltic when I got home, I thoroughly enjoyed crawling in beside - and getting a sleepy hug from - a very cosy Alex! 

According to my big Chambers dictionary, the definition of enjoy is: “to find pleasure in something; to experience, and have the benefit of, something good”.

So, I guess that settles it then; I really do very much enjoy being a Samaritan.

Wishing Heart of Scotland Choir a Happy First Birthday

To be sung to the tune of Flower of Scotland:

O Heart of Scotland
Today’s the day
That you are one
So Ha-appy Birthdaaay
To members all and one
Who stand together (WITH WHO?)
Our o-own wee sections
To sing for the choir
With all our chums.

One year has passed now

And many gigs have come and gone
Like Wallace and Bertie
The castle and BBC One
We stood together (WITH WHO?)
Our own wee sections
To sing for the choir
With all our chums.

What lies ahead now?

What dizzy heights
Can we attain?
And how much more special
Could be our Annie and Jane?
We stand together (WITH WHO?)
Our own wee sections
To sing for the choir
With all our chums.

O Heart of Scotland

Today’s the day
That you are one
So Ha-appy Birthdaaay
To members all and one
Who stand together (WITH WHO?)
Our own wee sections
To sing for the choir
With all our chums.

Staying in a castle and singing for a minister

I’m beginning to wonder if I should change the name of my blog to ‘Some of the things that’ve made me feel good over this past week or so!’ as I’ve never yet managed to achieve my original intention, of writing a post every day. When I leave it too long, I struggle to decide what ‘thing’ I should write about. Today, therefore, I’m mulling over a couple of different things that’ve made me feel good since my last post.

Alex and I had a lovely wee night away last Thursday using a gift voucher for a local House Hotel that we were given ages ago. Glenskirlie House used to be just a restaurant but, since our last visit many years ago, the owners have extended the main house and also built a hotel - in the style of a castle  - on the grounds. It’s kind of weird; the castle looks old, but it’s new. It’s a new castle.

Our room had a big, made-to-look-old wooden door that you opened with a real key - none of that plastic slidey card nonsense - so we were fair excited as we turned the key in the lock, not knowing what to expect. We were hoping for a classy turret-style room with wooden furniture and a four-poster bed....instead, we couldn’t help laughing out loud when we walked into a room that reminded us of a hotel we’d stayed in (many moons ago) in Eurodisney! The kids had loved it, with its big cartoon-style furniture and bold, bright colours. Well, this room wasn’t quite as Disney cartoon-ish as that, but it wasn’t far away! The room was quite small but the bed was huge and it had a massive ornate headboard and loads of cushions, placed very precisely, in front of the pillows. I was kind of expecting a pair of eyes to flash open from the headboard and the bed to stand up on two legs and give us a welcoming song and dance! Four of the cushions had letters of the alphabet on them and were placed carefully to spell out ‘L’ ‘O’ ‘V’‘E’. Awww, how sweet we thought ..... until we turned them over to discover that the cushions now spelled out ‘H’’A’’T’’E’!!  I’m guessing it’s a kind of novel way of getting the ‘Yes, I’m up for it/NO, not tonight Darling’ message across!

That kind of set the scene for the rest of our stay; we had a good laugh, ate lots of nice food, drank far too much wine and just really enjoyed having a night and day off work to spend a bit of time all to ourselves. Many things have changed during the past 30 years since I first started going out with Alex, but how much I absolutely love being with him has stayed reassuringly the same.

There were lots of lovely people in the audience of the wee gig we did last night that have also clearly been together for a long, long time. We rehearse in a church in Cambusbarron and the minister, Reverend Webster, is a great fan of the choir. Our set list couldn’t be further removed from the type of songs that a traditional choir would sing, but he’s been so supportive and happy for us to rehearse in the church. The closest that me and the other non-religious choir members have come to being struck by lightning was when one of the light bulbs went up in flames during a recent rehearsal; but I’m sure that was more down to dodgy electrics than God’s angry finger! Anyway, last night the choir sang at the minister’s surprise retirement do in the local community hall and it was such a great, heart-warming wee gig. Reverend Webster was surrounded by his family, friends and many of his parishioners. It was clear that they’re all very fond of him and that he’ll be sorely missed. It was also clear that many of the elderly folks in the audience had been together as couples, friends or church-goers for many years. It was just so touching to look out at them all - sitting alongside the many younger folk in the hall who were also there to say goodbye to their minister and bode him well in his retirement – smiling, clapping and showing their warm appreciation for both the choir’s set and Reverend Webster’s poignant wee speech at the end of our performance. After thanking us for coming along he told his congregation, so eloquently, what the lucky members of Heart of Scotland know already; that we’re so much more than just a singing group. He pointed out that we’re a community full of members who look out for and care for each other – just like his church community – and that Annie and Jane really have brought something special to the very heart of Central Scotland. The choir’s going to be singing in Oran Mor in Glasgow next week, at Stirling’s Christmas Light Switch-On, at Falkirk’s big bonfire night and firework display, at Stirling’s Albert Halls in our own concert and at the Stirling Hogmanay Concert in Stirling Castle – but, the buzz that I felt last night in Cambusbarron’s community hall will take some beating!

I’m sure that many things will change during the however many years that I’m lucky enough to spend being a member of the choir, but I’m pretty sure that how much I love being with my choir family will stay reassuringly the same.

Simply being at choir

I was a bit harassed before I left for choir rehearsal earlier. I’m sure it’s much the same for most members of the group; some come straight from work, some have to sort out last-minute babysitting arrangements, some rush straight there from Uni ... there’s a whole load of reasons why it might be a bit of a mad dash to get along to practice on a Monday evening. For me on this occasion, the reason was a fairly testing and difficult Samaritans shift that ran on a bit late but, as ever, I’m so glad that I did make it along. Being at choir simply always makes me feel good.

I think I’ll just let this recording – of our first attempt at the new arrangement we learned tonight - do the talking for a wee change .....

Another running season and crappy TV

When my wellies are being dug out of the garage, my waterproof socks (yes, you can get waterproof socks) and woolly hat are being dragged to the front of the drawer and my trusty old ski-jacket’s getting hauled out from the back of the wardrobe, it can only mean one thing; cross country running season’s started again! It’s that time of year when I spend at least one day of most weekends trudging around a muddy field cheering on my mad husband and my equally mad son as they race around a cross country route somewhere or another with a load of other equally mad runners, and yesterday saw a pretty normal start to the season in Dundee’s Camperdown Park; lots of rain, lots of mud and lots of mad runners to cheer on.  

One of the best things about cross country events is the pleasure I get from curling up in front of the fire and vegetating – without any guilt as I’ve been walking around outside all day - in front of Saturday night telly when we come home. Having said that, the telly’s usually rubbish on a Saturday night; especially that X Factor. It’s so contrived, it’s just really annoying blah, blah, blah – but there I was last night (and not for the first time..) sitting watching it. How does it manage to draw me in?! I spend most of the time X Factor's on shouting at the telly! Last night was particularly bad as some of my favourite songs were ruined by ridiculous cover versions. I know what you're probably thinking; why didn't I just change the channel? I don't know - I guess once the X Factor's got it's hooks in, I'm trapped!

I suppose there were a few good performances last night, especially the one from the wee Irish girl who seemed to have escaped the ruinous touch of the X Factor production team and just stood in the middle of the stage, looking pretty natural and normal, singing a beautiful version of Coldplay’s ‘Fix You’. I really hope they continue to let her just be herself but, sadly, I don’t think that’ll be the case. And, now that I think about it, the girl who sang ‘Rolling In The Deep’ had a pretty awesome voice too (though she’d been dressed up like something from my kids’ school’s Trash Fashion Show). And I did quite like the guy that sang ‘Ticket to Ride’; he was a bit wobbly in parts, but I really liked his voice and I suppose it was a nice change to the original version....agh, just listen to me! What is it about that bloody programme? I hate the whole concept, but I just can’t help getting drawn in to it... it’s so annoying! I need to just stop watching it! Let’s move on.

Today involved spectating and running again. Gemma competed, just for fun, in a 5k just outside St Andrews. It’s the first time she’s competed for a few years and I’m really proud of her for giving it a go. And, she couldn’t have picked a better event to gently break herself back in; the race was organised by Fife Athletic Club – the best club in Scotland for post-race tea and cakes! (As told on my Tour of Fife post!) Me, Alex and Ross, meanwhile, spent the morning in Kirkintilloch at the Neil McCover Memorial Half Marathon. (Yup, a few miles cross country yesterday and thirteen and a half miles on the roads today; mad.) It was another wet – and very windy – day, so the old ski jacket was pulled back on and the waterproof mascara was re-applied. As ever though, it was worth it. A good brisk walk around in the rain, a nice bunch of folk to chat to, a great deal of pride and pleasure in cheering son and hubbie across the finish line – what better way to spend a Sunday morning?!

And, one of the nicest things about getting out of bed at the crack of dawn to trudge around supporting the boys is the treat that awaits me at home; curling up in front of the fire and vegetating in front of crappy Sunday night telly. In fact, does anyone know what time the X Factor Results show starts....

Celebrating more certificates

I love gummy sweeties, so Alex couldn’t have picked a better pressie to mark the completion of Module Three of my counselling course than the two packets of M&S Percy Pigs he brought home from work last night! (The wee bottle of bubbly went down a treat too but, mmmmm, Percy Pigs...) One more module to go and I’ll have the full Certificate under my belt, then I can - at last - think about moving on to the Diploma. But that’s for next year; today it was just a big relief to get my marked assignment back, do the dreaded presentation of our assignment then be awarded my Module pass.

As if that wasn’t enough excitement for one day, it was a double celebration as Gordon was presented with his Bronze Duke of Edinburgh Award at school later on in the evening. We had such a lovely time and I, not for the first time since way back when Gemma first started there, was reminded how great our local High School’s been for my kids. The pupils had all prepared wee talks about their experiences - which they presented in groups before receiving their awards - and I was so very proud of Gordon. He just made it look so ridiculously easy. I mean, there was me earlier on in the day; knees knocking, hands shaking, sweat dripping, voice trembling – when all I had to do was sit in front of a small group of fellow students and my tutor and deliver a ten minute presentation on my assignment. It was such a relief when it was over. On the other hand, tonight, there was Gordon; striding confidently up to the front of the hall, leading his wee group in the talk, wearing a big smiley face, not having shaky hands, keeping his head up, speaking loudly and clearly, making the hall full of parents, teachers and fellow students laugh, working the remote for the accompanying slide show, helping the rest of the group with their wee bits...and, best of all, making his Duke of Edinburgh experience sound fun and exciting, when he actually didn’t really enjoy it all that much at all! Aw, I was just so proud and I wish I had half his confidence!

We rounded off the night with a carry out curry accompanied by the dregs of the bubbly. A lovely way to finish a good day – and, just to top it off, there's still one packet of Percy Pigs left in the cupboard....

Another rite of passage

I’ve been thinking a lot about my Dad today. It’s coming up to eighteen years since he died, but the longing to have him back still occasionally hits just as hard now as it did all those years ago. Apart from being with his family, there was nothing my Dad loved more than having a pint and a blether, so it was especially poignant - on what would’ve been my Dad’s 75^th birthday - to watch Alex and Ross heading out the door earlier for their first pint together down the local. If Dad had still been here, he’d definitely have been looking for an invite! I can actually picture him; walking in to the pub, grinning as he proudly tells everyone that this is a special occasion then raising his glass to toast Ross turning eighteen and being out for his first pint with his Dad and his Papa. That was just my Dad’s kind of thing.

Anyway, after having a great day catching up with Ross during his flying visit home, it was really lovely to watch him and his auld Dad head out earlier. Alex and Ross have shared plenty of beers before now, but now out in the pub. It's another rite of passage that brought a wee lump to my throat and a big, happy smile to my face.