Alex's photos

A few weeks ago Alex was asked to carry out a survey of the decaying stonework at the top of the Church of the Holy Rude which, as well as being the second-oldest building in Stirling (after the Castle), is one of the hill-top structures that make up the Stirling skyline. The Holy Rude will always be kind of special to us as its refurbishment back in 1989 was the first large sub-contract that Impressions in Stone (our wee business) landed and was the one that brought us from Glasgow to Stirling. Some years later, Alex was asked to carve a plaque to commemorate the coronation of King James VI in 1567; The Church of the Holy Rude is the only church in Britain, other than Westminster Abbey, to have held a coronation and still be a functioning church today. The commemorative plaque is embedded in the floor of the altar and was unveiled in a special ceremony, which Alex was invited along to, by the Queen in 1997.

Over the years, we’ve carried out various bits of restoration works to the Holy Rude, so Alex feels he knows the place pretty well. However, the area he was surveying a few weeks ago was somewhere not seen by very many visitors to the church - right at the very top of the building. I went berserk when he came home and told me that he’d had to clamber around one of the top finials to get a proper look at the stone. I’ll not say much more about his antics that day just in case any over-zealous H&S officers come across this blog!

While he was swinging from the dodgy stonework, Alex found time to take a few photos of the fantastic view. Since the Stirling Observer (our local newspaper) is always asking its readers to send in photos of the surrounding area, I emailed a selection of Alex's along with some short captions to explain where the photos had been taken from. I didn't really expect the paper to publish any of them.

Imagine my surprise when I opened The Observer tonight and saw, taking up the whole of page two, Alex’s photos and a wee article about them! The article had been written as if Alex had been interviewed, or had submitted text – neither was the case! I just emailed the photos with a short explanation underneath each one. We reckon the journalist must have checked out our website to get a little bit of background information and added a few quotes (plucked out of thin air) to make the piece a bit more interesting!

We won’t be suing for defamation of character as it was great to get a wee bit of free publicity – and the ribbing that Alex is getting from everyone is a small price to pay! Hope you like the pretty pictures:



My crazy husband clambered around this narrow ledge...



...to get this lovely shot!





Looking forward to making some noise

Losing my voice is such a pain in the proverbial:

I was gutted that I had to miss choir rehearsal last night. One of my new singing friends, Drew, suggested ‘Vocalzone’ lozenges – I’ve never heard of them, but anything was worth a try. They're brilliant, and definitely work better than Strepsils and such like – though, if you’re tempted to try them, be warned: even if you don’t have a blocked nose they’ll make your nose stream and they’ll also make your tongue feel as if someone’s taken a hot iron to it! However, even ‘Vocalzone’ couldn’t coax my throat back in to action, so I just had to sit at home and sulk. It didn't help that Gordon came home raving about what a great time he’d had and how they'd been singing Katy Perry’s  ‘Firework’! If you’re feeling a bit crap about yourself and need a bit of a pick-me-up, this is a great get-up-and-bloody-do-something-about-it-because-you-do-have-it-in-you kind of song. OK, so some of the lyrics are maybe a wee bit naff – but I love it, especially the bits that go:

“Do you ever feel already buried deep?
  Six feet under screams but no one seems to hear a thing
  Do you know that there's still a chance for you
 'Cause there's a spark in you?”

Then, after belting out the chorus,

“You don't have to feel like a waste of space
You're original, cannot be replaced
If you only knew what the future holds
After a hurricane comes a rainbow"

Yup, love that wee song.

Today was the first day of my new course in Edinburgh and not being able to properly join in with the group discussions was really frustrating. I was also a wee bit sad at one point, thinking about how much I’d enjoyed the last module and how much I was missing the great people that I worked with. However, I quickly reminded myself that the reason I’d changed course was so that I could learn alongside a completely different, bigger group – and they do seem like a nice bunch. They know nothing about me as I couldn’t really say much – ah well, maybe that's not such a bad thing!

I’d forgotten, until this morning, that I’m supposed to be working at the hospice tomorrow but I just didn’t have the heart to phone and cancel; it’s such a faff for them to find a last-minute replacement. Fingers, toes and everything else crossed that my voice is back in the morning so that I can answer the phone and greet visitors with, at the very least, an audible ‘Hello’!

So, I’m sooking ‘Vocalzone’ (and can no longer feel my tongue); I’m gargling with salt water (yeuch); I’m drinking green tea with honey (sounds horrible but is actually quite nice) and I’m completely resting my vocal cords by not even trying to whisper. Surely, after all that, my voice will be back to some kind of normality tomorrow? 

It's just the very thought of being able to chat, laugh and sing normally again that's making me feel good tonight!

A quiet day - though not through choice!

I had a lovely meal out with some old Central AC friends last night to celebrate our pal Helen’s birthday. Some of the girls went on to the pub afterwards but I just came home because, as the night went on, I started to lose my voice. Typical!! I join a new singing group then get struck down with bloody laryngitis!! My voice held out long enough to recite the wee birthday poem I’d written for Helen then enjoy the meal, and all the banter that went with it, but by the end of the night I was hoarse. Consequently, today I’ve been sooking all kinds of lozenges in the vain hope that my voice will be back to some kind of normality in time for tomorrow night’s rehearsal.

The developing laryngitis aside, it was great to catch up with my old running friends. However, any occasion that we get together is full of mixed emotions for me. I’m always happy to see everyone and we always have a good laugh, but being with them all also reminds me of how much I miss my running days, so the get-togethers are always tinged with a wee bit of sadness too. It’s weird; I live in a house where running plays a pretty central role - Ross and Alex are still committed members of the athletics club, there’s hardly a day goes by that one of them doesn’t go out for a run,  and hardly a weekend goes by that we’re not away to some race or another - but it’s really only when I’m with my running friends, or reminiscing with my old running partner Elaine,  that I get a bit maudlin about the fact that I can’t run any more.

I used to love running. I was never that great at it and didn’t really compete (except in things like the Women’s 10k and Race for Life), but I loved it. I especially enjoyed it when our whole family used to go to training on Tuesday and Thursday nights. There was a time when all five of us were running seriously and our lives pretty much revolved around athletics and the club – we’ve got loads of great memories from that period in our lives. Not just of training nights, but also of the many social occasions, get-togethers and trips away (which, I’m pleased to say, we still sometimes join in with). The girls that I was with last night and I were part of the endurance group at the club - some still are - and we’d sometimes join in with the serious training but, more often than not, we would just go for a long run. As I said when I was reciting Helen’s poem last night; if exercising your tongue made you run faster, we’d all have been elite athletes by now!  I think I’ve probably mentioned here before (because I do tend to moan a bit about it!) that bits of my bobs have let me down and, for health reasons, I can’t do high-impact exercise any more. That rules out running and aerobics; two things that I used to thoroughly enjoy. However, it’s not that big a deal in the whole scheme of things and there are plenty of other sports that I could get involved in, if only I could motivate myself off my backside to get on with them! I half-heartedly get on my bike sometimes, and I go for walks – but nothing does it for me the way that running used to. I think I’ll always hanker after it.

Anyhow, enough of the maudlin! Today’s been a really quiet day – mainly because I’ve not been able to make any noise – but a really nice day. Ross was away climbing up The Cobbler with some pals and Gordon was away to the movies. We’ve never really done the big family Easter Sunday thing, and mum's down south visiting her sister anyway, so it was good just to sit about and do, well, nothing really – sook some lozenges, watch Alex working out in the garden, read the papers and faff about on the computer. Topped off with a beer (very soothing to the throat..) and barbeque. That was about the extent of it. Yup, it’s been a lovely lazy Easter Sunday...

...though it would’ve been a great day for a leisurely Sunday run...!

Remembering my 10 seconds of fame!

Following on from my last post, another nice thing about joining the choir was meeting someone that I’ve not seen for a long time. I used to know Sandra when I lived in Bannockburn – over 15 years ago – and it was really lovely to catch up with her again. While we were chatting, she said that she’d seen me on the telly a few years ago.  She couldn’t remember what the programme was – and I initially couldn’t think either - but then it dawned on me; it was the news footage of Gemma returning from Space School!

Gemma had been awarded a place on the Scottish Space School programme; an incentive that took around 50 sixth year pupils to a course in NASA, Texas, for a week. She had a brilliant time and it was a fantastic once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, but it was made all the more exciting by the fact that they got caught up in Hurricane Ike while they were there! Fortunately for the students, the hurricane struck towards the end of their week, so the Space School programme wasn’t too disrupted, but it did mean that they were evacuated and re-located a few times and that they couldn’t fly home when they were supposed to. This was pretty trivial in comparison to the loss and devastation suffered by the people who lived and worked in the area and it was a huge life experience for all of the students and staff on the trip. They were all really well looked after and there was never any real danger of them being badly injured – but it was a pretty scary experience for them all the same. The hotel that they stayed in originally was completely wrecked by the hurricane and, consequently, was shown repeatedly by the national news programmes – which was pretty difficult for us parents back home to watch!

Sandra saw me on the telly because the news cameras were in attendance at Glasgow Airport when Gemma and the rest of the students eventually arrived back to a warm, and relieved, welcome from their parents. Gemma was the first student to be interviewed and, since I was standing beside her, they asked me a few questions too. The result: we were on the news that night and I had my 10 seconds of fame!

I hadn’t thought about it all for a while and, after speaking to Sandra, I  wondered if the footage was still out there. I typed ‘Space School Hurricane Ike’ in to the YouTube search bar this morning – and there it was (and here it is if you'd like a look!) Gemma will probably kill me for posting this link, but hey-ho...it's my 10 Seconds of Fame and I'll post if I want to! 

Sang my kind of songs

At last, I’ve found the singing group in Stirling that I’ve been looking for! I collected Gordon from a concert at the Albert Halls (not THE Albert Hall; Stirling’s Albert Halls) a few weeks ago and, when he got in the car, he was full of how much he’d enjoyed the evening. He turned to me, after raving about how fantastic the show had been, and said, “You know how you’re always going on about finding a choir in Stirling that’s full of nice people and sings good, modern songs? Well, I think I’ve just found you one!”.

So, off we both trotted last night - feeling a bit nervous I must admit - to our first rehearsal with The Heart of Scotland Choir. I know this’ll sound a bit corny but you know how sometimes you go along to something and you just know instantly that it’s going to become a big part of your life? Well, that’s exactly how I felt last night. Me, Gordon and the rest of the new choir members walked in the door to a warm welcome from the lovely Annie and her equally lovely sister Jane, who founded the choir back in October last year. They explained how the choir has grown in both strength and numbers and, in turn, has become so much more than just a group of like-minded people getting together to enjoy making music. They explained that it’s also become a wee friendly, supportive community – and I definitely saw that in action when the ‘seasoned’ members arrived for rehearsal a short while later.  Everyone was so warm in their welcomes and it wasn’t too long before both Gordon and I felt completely at ease in amongst our new friends!

As for the singing, well, what can I say?! You might remember how much I enjoyed going along to another singing group a few months ago, but the old Burns and other traditional songs just weren’t really doing it for me. Last night the first new song that Annie (whose enthusiasm is totally infectious) taught us was Coldplay’s ‘Fix You’ - which is one of our family’s favourites! It’s usually belted out on the way home in the car from some night out or another (“...lights will gu –i –i -ide you home...”) so Gordon and I were in our element! Having said that, some bits were a bit tricky as I kept lapsing in to just singing the tune that I know so well! However, with the help of some of the more experienced members of the lower harmony section, I started to get the hang of it and I couldn’t believe how quickly it all came together. I thought it sounded great, especially after such a short time practising, and the old endorphins were definitely back in action! I had a thoroughly great time and cannot wait to go back next week. Mon the choir!

Procrastination

I’ve had a lovely weekend as a result of procrastination. An online assessment for my OU course opened on Friday night and I planned to finish it before the weekend was done. Well, you know what they say about the best laid plans...

We picked Gemma up from the airport on Friday night and, although she was shattered, she talked non-stop from the moment she got in the car till the moment she went to bed. She was up early on Saturday morning and, just as I was about to make a start on my assessment, Gemma started to chat again. Now, how irresponsible would I be as a mother if I didn’t spend some quality time with my daughter before she headed back to Uni? So, laptop was snapped shut and and that was Saturday morning’s course work out the window!

Gemma talked herself to sleep by lunchtime so I made a cuppa and fired up the computer again. Just as I was about to start, Ross reminded me that he’d been emailed the lease documents for his Uni accommodation and that they required checking over and signing. We finished doing that then, just as I was about to make a start on the assessment, Alex arrived home from work. How rotten would it have been not to spend some time with my wonderful hubbie when he’s come in from a hard morning’s work? So, I obviously had to sit down for a cuppa and blether with him.  And that was Saturday afternoon’s course work taken care of.

Later on, we took Gemma up to St Andrews (as her car’s still not fixed) and met up with Tola, Gemma’s lovely boyfriend, and Oyinkan, Gemma’s lovely best friend, for dinner. St Andrews is such a nice wee town and it was a great place to be on Saturday night. It still strikes me as funny when I think back to my perception of St Andrews before Gemma became a student there. When I was little, St Andrews was a nice place to go holidays in our wee caravan and I remember it having the best ice cream ever from a cafe called Janetta’s. When I was at school, I thought of St Andrews as the place where all the toffs went to Uni and where rich Americans played golf. When I was at Uni, St Andrews was one of the places to go on a road trip and have a drunken barbeque on the beach. When the kids were little, St Andrews was a great, safe place for my mum to take her brood of grandchildren for a wee break away from their parents. Years later, I realise that St Andrews is still all of those things, but I also know that it’s not only toffs that go to St Andrews Uni (though there are a fair few!) or our Gemma definitely wouldn’t be there!

So, that was Saturday night out. Oh, and I should mention the drive back – absolutely gorgeous skies surrounded us the whole road back home. A perfect end to a lovely day.

It was a toss-up on Sunday morning between a) doing the OU assignment, b) watching the London marathon on the telly and c) sunbathing. My middle name is Rose – quite apt really as, when the sun comes out my head turns towards it! So, c) won – with regular updates on the progress of the marathon from Alex before he headed off to Grangemouth Stadium to compete in the Scottish Athletics Men’s League. Alex loves competing for his club and, as one of the, ahem, older generation of athletes, he’s always delighted when he’s selected to compete on the track. Because not many of the younger athletes are daft enough to do the steeplechase, it’s the event that Alex is most commonly asked to do at the league matches and, although he wasn’t happy with his time yesterday, he came in 3^rd and picked up valuable points for the club. My hero! I don’t like watching Alex running round the track umpteen times, jumping over big hurdles and a big pool of water as I’m always worried he’ll do himself an injury, so I stayed at home to do my assessment.  

However, instead of knuckling down, I decided it was far more important to spend some quality time with my mum - so I picked her up and took her to Dobbies for a donner and a scone. Isn’t it funny; the first sign of real sunshine and the garden centres are heaving? I did what I always do on my first visit of the year to the garden centre; bought a load of wee plants, got home, planted some of them and left some of them ‘till later’. Just like every other year, those wee pansies in the almost-empty black tray will never get planted; they’ll dry out and die and Alex will say ‘What a waste of bloody money!’.

Then, it was such a lovely evening. I couldn’t possibly consider sitting inside in front of the computer – you just never know how long this nice weather’s going to last and we really have to make the most of it! So, we had a barbeque, by the finish of which it was far too late to start any kind of studying. And, anyway, Gordon – whom I’d hardly seen all weekend as he’d been away at one thing then another – suggested settling down for a family movie. Ah well, there was always tomorrow.

And, indeed, tomorrow turned out to be the day that the procrastination stopped! This morning I got up early, got my work work out of the way, opened the online assignment, got stuck in and managed to complete it in a couple of hours. It turned out not to be too difficult and it left me wondering, as usual, why I was putting off doing it. Sometimes procrastination can result in a load of stress because something’s been left till the last minute but, fortunately, my procrastination over the weekend resulted in me having a thoroughly enjoyable couple of days – not doing anything wildly exciting, but just enjoying what and who I have round about me. If only procrastination always produced such a good result....

Dear Green Place

Gemma’s wee car had to go into the Smart garage in Glasgow today so, since she’s still down in London at her JP Morgan insight week, and since Alex had a few jobs to see in Glasgow, we took a wee jolly through. I love Glasgow. It’ll always be special because it’s where my dad was born and raised, it’s where Alex and I went to University, it’s where we first lived together, it’s where we were married and it’s somewhere we’ve spent many happy times with many good friends over the years. I especially love the West End - as that’s where the University is - but I just think that Glasgow, in general, is a lovely, friendly and beautiful place (well, most of it anyway!).

We moved from Glasgow to Stirling in 1990 because of a change in our work circumstances. At that time we thought we’d move back at some point, however, we settled really quickly in to the Stirling area and Glasgow soon became a nice – and nostalgic - place to visit, rather than somewhere we wanted to live.

Ross is heading off to one of ‘the other’ universities in Glasgow – Strathclyde – in September and I’m sure he’ll enjoy everything that living and studying in the city has to offer. He’s only just sorted out his accommodation, so Alex and I fitted in a wee look while we were through today.  The block he’s staying in is a five minute walk from the Business School (where he’s going to be studying International Business), and it’s a stone’s-throw from the hip-and-trendy Merchant City. Perfect!

I’m delighted that Ross is going to be a student in Glasgow but he does face one major drawback; poor soul will have to put up with his auld maw and paw harping on about their student days in the Dear Green Place – and they certainly could tell him a thing or two about how to enjoy student life! Hm, on second thoughts, maybe I’ll just keep schtoom and not give too much of that away.....!

Stirling's skyline

I love the view of Stirling’s skyline, especially as you drive towards it from our village, and yesterday morning it was particularly stunning. We had left the house just before seven o’clock - as Alex and Ross were competing in the Edinburgh Half Marathon - and it was great to be up and out so early on such a beautiful day. As we drove along the carse, we were spoiled with the sight of the surrounding hills and the skyline ahead of us; all of which were draped in a hazy blanket under the rising sun. The photos I took don’t really do the scene justice (possibly because I was leaning out of the window while the car was still moving!) but I’ve posted one here anyway. I’ve, unfortunately, missed the Wallace Monument, so the outline isn’t quite complete! Gemma’s pretty nifty with her all-singing-all-dancing camera and she took some photos too – if she ever gets round to sending them to me, I’ll replace my crappy snap with one of her better ones.

Apart from looking pretty, the Stirling skyline makes me feel good for another reason. I used to help out with the organisation of the Stirling 10k Road Race and was privileged enough to hold the position of Race Director for a spell. I loved being involved with this fantastic event and am proud of my small contribution to raising its profile and, in turn, having it selected be a Scottish Athletics Grand Prix event and the venue for the Scottish 10k Championships. I absolutely love the fact that Gemma designed the logo that’s been on the front of the Stirling 10k t-shirts for the past five years. We had put our heads together and come up with the idea of an athlete sort of merged into the Stirling skyline. It worked well and, consequently, the drawing has been printed on to over 5000 t-shirts. I still get a buzz when I’m at a running event and I spot an athlete sporting one of our t-shirts – especially when it’s at an event that’s a wee bit further afield. The Stirling 10k will be celebrating its tenth anniversary this September, so the new Race Director may well change the design of the t-shirt logo. However, I’m sure I’ll still see some old shirts from years gone by kicking about at running events well in to the future – a simple thing I know, but it makes me feel good!

(p.s. We all had a good time in Edinburgh. Unfortunately though, Ross had to pull out of the race due to an injury, but he ran a good seven miles before he had to stop. There’s always a positive slant; it meant that Alex had one more supporter there to cheer him in at the finish – and finish he did, maybe not in as good a time as he would've liked, but still in good style!)

End of year return returned

I was pretty miserable when the alarm went off yesterday morning; one of the things I hate doing for our business is the payroll year-end return and, as I like to get it out of the way as soon as possible after the 5^th of April, yesterday was earmarked for getting it done and dusted. We only have a few employees, so administering the payroll isn’t really that big a deal, but I always dread doing the annual return in case it throws up any mistakes I’ve made. Thankfully, it usually all goes swimmingly, turns out to be not such a big deal after all and is over and done with before I know it! Yesterday was no different and it felt great, at the end of the day, to hit the ‘submit’ button on the Inland Revenue website.  All over for another year – and that really did make me feel good!

I’m always amused when folk say things like:

(a) “It must be really hard to motivate yourself when you work from home”. No it isn’t; if the work doesn’t get done the mortgage doesn’t get paid. Pretty straightforward really.

And:

(b) “It must be great when you work for yourself; you can just take the day off whenever you feel like it”. Not quite! Certainly not whenever you feel like it – see (a) for clarification – but sometimes it is possible to take the day off on a whim, and that definitely is one of the perks of being your own boss.

Today was one of those days – I treated myself to a day off doing any work work as a pat-on-the-back for finishing the payroll return and submitting it successfully. It was also a bit of a celebration as it was the last time I have to deal with any paperwork concerning our ‘thorn-in-the-side’ ex-employee! (See this and this for further clarification!) I didn’t do anything wildly exciting; halved the ironing pile (which means it’s back to being a stable structure!), caught up with some personal banking stuff that I’d been putting off for ages, read for a wee while, did a bit of supermarket shopping (oh what an exciting life I lead...!) and had a nice lunch out with Gemma. To top it off, we had a barbeque tonight – first of the year - as it was such a lovely evening. A perfect end to a busy, but really good, working week.

Roll on the weekend!

(p.s. although this post is dated Saturday, it's really still Friday night - just so happens that it's after midnight)

A hug for Maria

I was in my favourite wee coffee shop, Cisco's, with Gemma this morning. I wrote about Cisco’s back in January on the day of Angela’s funeral (Learning from Angela) but I’ve not been in to Cisco's for a while and it was lovely to see David (the owner) just getting on and doing his thing; no matter when I pop in, there’s always a welcoming cheery smile from him and the rest of the staff behind the counter. It’s always an added bonus if one of ‘the girls’ (David’s sisters) are around too and today I was in luck! Maria was there and it was just great to share a wee hug, ‘hello’ and catch-up.  Maria read the most amazing eulogy at Angela’s funeral and I’ll never forget the courage and compassion she displayed that day. I was also deeply touched this morning when she told me that her and the rest of the family were able to draw a little bit of comfort from reading my tribute to Angela and that she 'shows it to everyone'. It’s the first time that I’ve felt this blog has served any kind of useful and meaningful purpose, other than making me feel good. I’m proud, and humbled, by the fact that doing something I love - writing – has helped the lovely Tortolano family, even if it is only in a tiny wee way.

Another way that folk, in general, can help the family (and others like them) is by supporting them in supporting the hospice where Angela spent her last days. Angela herself raised lots of money for Strathcarron while she was a patient there, and thousands of pounds were raised at the collection following her funeral. Some of the girls who work in Cisco’s are running this year’s Women’s 10k in Glasgow in memory of Angela and to raise even more funds for the hospice. There’s a sponsor sheet lying on the counter of the cafe and, this morning, the guy in the queue in front of me filled in the form then handed over £100! I couldn’t quite stretch to that much but, every penny counts, and my small contribution, I know, will be appreciated just as much. I’ve actually seen that first hand at the hospice; when I’m helping out on the reception desk and someone calls in with a donation, just as much thanks and appreciation is shown to the lady who is handing in £10 as is shown to the man who is handing in £1000.

So, if you happen to be in Stirling between now and the 8th of May, and you fancy supporting a very good cause while enjoying a cuppa in a lovely wee friendly cafe, I'd recommend that you pop into Cisco’s in Port Street! The staff will be delighted to see you and, if you fill in the form on the counter, you’ll be helping the many people who benefit from the special care that Strathcarron Hospice gives to those who are terminally ill. I can also guarantee that you’ll be doing it all while enjoying the best cup of coffee that Stirling has to offer!

Heading out instead of studying

I should be getting ready to go to an Open University tutorial this morning, but I’m giving it a miss as Alex and Ross are running later in the Buchlyvie 10k. I’m feeling a wee bit guilty as I often cite one of the down-sides of distance learning as the fact that there is little, or no, contact with other students or your tutor and the tutorials are an ideal way of improving that. However, today I would simply rather be out in the April sunshine (fingers crossed!) supporting my boys in their race than be stuck in a tutorial room at Stirling University.

The tutorials aren’t compulsory, so I won’t be losing any marks, but they are useful for a bit of extra support. I suppose it comes down to a matter of choice and priorities; although the courses and extra ‘stuff’ that I’m doing at the moment are really important to me, my family and all their bits and bobs still come first. That’s not to say, however, that there won’t be times I’ll have to forego something family-related when the choice isn’t so straightforward; if attendance at the tutorial today had been a compulsory element of the course, I would definitely have been going along! Also, the next module of my other course is going to be on every Tuesday morning and starts right slap bang in the middle of Gordon’s standard grades; I felt really guilty when I told him I wouldn’t be able to drive him to school any Tuesday morning that he had an exam. Our kids get the bus to school, but I’ve always driven them in on the days of important exams. That won’t be the case for Gordon’s four Tuesday standard grades.

Gordon’s reply, when I was apologising and telling him how guilty I felt that I wouldn’t be there for that last bit of moral support on the way in to school in the car was, “Don’t be so ridiculous Mum, I’m not the least bit bothered, you don’t need to give me a lift!” (not sure if he meant in the car, psychologically or both!). “I’ll get the bus or a lift from someone else in the village”. Gordon’s response really brought it home to me that we mums often feel guilty about not ‘helping’ our kids when they don’t actually expect or need that help. Gordon simply didn’t see it as a big deal – whereas I felt as if I was letting him down.

Now that I come to think of it, I’m probably letting him down much more by not going to the tutorial today. I’ve been harping on to Gordon about how important it is to prioritise studying over this next wee while if he wants to do well in his exams (to little or no avail I might add!). Not setting a very good example, am I?!! Ah well, too late now – sunshine, running and, hopefully, cakes in Buchlyvie beckon!

Anyway (she says defensively), I'm sure that Gordon seeing me studying while he's off school over the next fortnight will be good example enough and hopefully encourage him to open his books too....which just goes to highlight another thing that us Mums are often guilty of; big dollops of wishful thinking!

Remembering Chariots of Fire

Gemma was telling me that, as part of her University’s 600^th anniversary celebrations, there’s going to be a re-staging of the opening sequence of ‘Chariots of Fire’. Remember it? It’s the one where a group of athletes is running, in slow motion, across the beautiful sands of St Andrews in time to a brilliant Van Gellis soundtrack. It’s one of the best films that Britain has produced (in my humble opinion) and fully deserves the 4 oscars that it won. Gemma was saying that the group of runners in the re-enactment is to be made up of girls only, so she’s applied and is really hoping to get a part.

In 1981 Alex was selected to represent Scotland at the British Schools Athletics Championships and his PE teacher gave him a ‘Well Done’ gift of two tickets for the Scottish premier of ‘Chariots of Fire’. Alex was 16 at the time and we’d been going out together for about a year or so – I remember feeling SO excited when Alex told me he was taking me to the opening night of a new film in Glasgow! We went through on the train, had a meal out (SO grown-up!) then went to the old Odeon cinema on Renfield Street to watch the film. It was probably our first date outside of Cumbernauld! We both loved the film but Alex, as a talented young runner, found it especially inspiring (he still is a talented athlete, just isn’t quite so young!).

Athletics is still a big part of Alex’s – and the rest of our family’s – life. We’ve all been members of Central Athletic Club for a number of years, and one coach in particular – Derek Easton - has had a big influence on all of us at one stage or another. Alex and Ross still train in Derek’s group, along with some of the most successful middle-distance and endurance athletes in Scotland. One of Derek’s many gifts as a coach is his knack of being able to train a large group of athletes of very mixed ability. When I used to run, I was one of the slowcoaches at the back of the pack, but I received the same level of encouragement and felt just as valued by Derek as a member of the group as the elite lot at the front did.

So, you can imagine how much I love the fact that Alex and I sat in a cinema 30 years ago, because Alex had done well with his running, and unknowingly watched a man - who would coach our children and become a big part of our lives as a special friend - running across the sands of St Andrews on the big screen in front of us. You see, Derek was a student in St Andrews when ‘Chariots of Fire’ was being filmed and he’d been asked – as a member of the University’s running club – to be one of those extras in that famous opening sequence. An influential film with an influential man playing a small part in it. The thought always makes me smile.

Cooing over Emily

I’ve changed the title of the blog again – I’m not sure if it’s the done thing in ‘blogging circles’ to keep changing the title, but hey-ho. When I started the blog at the beginning of this year, my intention was to write about something I’d done every day that was positive or made me feel good. However, it’s developed into a blog about absolutely anything that’s going on - in my life or round about me - that’s made, or makes, me feel good (with the odd wee rant thrown in for good measure!). And I quite like that, so I’m sticking with it for the moment.

Yesterday I paid a visit to my friend who’s just had a baby. Little Emily is absolutely gorgeous and, as a mum with teenage children, I lapped up the opportunity to cradle a tiny new baby.

I remember a story in the papers a few years ago about a hospital in England that had ‘banned’ visitors from ‘cooing’ over new-born babies.  Anyone coming into the maternity ward was given a card which read:

“I am small and precious so treat me with privacy and respect. My parents ask you to treat my personal space with consideration. I deserve to be left undisturbed and protected against unwanted public view”

Have you ever heard anything so utterly ridiculous?! The reasons given for the initiative were cited as: to reduce infection; to respect the dignity of the patients; and to respect the human rights of the baby! Not surprisingly, the cards didn’t last long; the hospital was accused of allowing bureaucracy to go mad and of ignoring the wishes of the mothers on the ward – most of whom wanted people to admire their babies! It was also agreed that if a mum wasn’t happy about someone cooing over their baby, it should be up to the mum to say so, not some bureaucrat in an office upstairs.

Anyway, there were no such restrictions on me yesterday and I was extremely grateful for the opportunity to coo over and cradle little Emily. And, her mum assured me that she was delighted to hear yet another visitor tell her what a beautiful little girl she’d produced.  You see, what the bureaucrats didn’t realise was that Mums never tire of hearing nice things said about their children – no matter what age they are!

A bit more faith in myself!

I went through to Edinburgh yesterday for an informal interview with one of the tutors at Stevenson College. I’d applied there to do the next module of my course and the tutor wanted to meet with me - really just to suss out if I would be suitable for joining his established group as a newcomer. Fortunately, we hit it off and I’m really looking forward to starting the module in a few weeks time, but I have to be honest and admit that I’m also a wee bit apprehensive. It is going to be a bit of a challenge joining a big group -  whose members have been working closely together and getting to know each other for the past few months -  however, I’m up for it and raring to go!

I couldn’t have done it when I was younger – I didn’t have anything like the confidence or motivation that I have now. I was one of those kids that wouldn’t go along to anything new, or join any groups, unless one of my pals was doing it too. I was too worried in case I didn’t fit in; I hated that feeling of being the odd one out and never really knew how to deal with it. And, I always thought I was rubbish at everything. I used to drive my mum and dad round the bend, especially at exam time. I’m sure I said “I’ve failed” after every single test or exam I sat at school and Uni – I was a terrible judge of my own ability and always felt that I had done badly. I’d usually done well enough and never did fail! (Well, except for this one time in first year at Uni when I’d made the mistake of taking Chemistry, yeuch, – I only just managed to scrape through the re-sit!) I look back and wonder if it made me feel safe to be pessimistic about the results, so that I couldn’t be let down. I’m so pleased that none of my kids have been like that.

Anyway, that was way back then. I'm now much more likely to try new things – even if it’s still with a bit of trepidation – and I've developed a bit more faith in my ability to do some things well. Only a little bit. I’ve driven Alex and the kids mad with every assignment and essay I’ve submitted over the past couple of years, but at least I’ve progressed from “I’ve failed” to “I don’t think I’ve done that well”. Maybe in a couple of years I’ll have moved forward even more and be saying “that was a dawdle – easy pass!” but, in the meantime, I’m happy just to keep on enjoying the journey that'll maybe take me to that stage!

A bit of a rant

I’ve just been chatting to Gemma on the phone. She’s sitting on a train after attending an information session, followed by a long interview, with a company that she’s hoping to secure a job with for the summer months. She had a very early rise, followed by a 6 hour train journey from Leuchars to Leicester, and she’s on her 7 hour journey home now. (There is a reason for me telling you all of this – bear with me!) Gemma’s doing everything she can to give herself the best possible chance of securing a decent job when she graduates in the summer of 2013. So, she attends conferences, lectures, information days and evenings to learn as much as she possibly can about such things as presentation skills, interview techniques, the changing employment market, and all that kind of stuff. She also does her best to gain the essential work experience that most employers now demand; she’s been all over the country to insight sessions that she’s either been selected for through lengthy application processes or has won a place on. She has two part time jobs (for the money as well as the experience) on top of her course work and, of course, a happy, busy social life.

Now, getting to the point at last, I was pretty angry when I read, in a copy of ‘The Week’ this morning, that some high falutin Tory fundraising club recently auctioned off, for thousands of pounds, internships and insight weeks  to wealthy parents so that their student off-spring could gain that valuable work experience from prestigious companies. So, as ‘The Week’ puts it, “what’s the going rate for a leg-up?”. Well, a one week internship at one of the big banks went for £3,500;  a two week insight at a well-known magazine headquarters went for £4,000; one week at a famous PR firm went for £2,000.   And so the list went on.

What an interesting conversation it would be if Gemma came across one such lucky son or daughter when she’s on her, hard-fought for, internship with JP Morgan this April:

Son of the wealthy auction bidder: “So what did it cost you to come here?”

Gemma: “Hard bloody work, part-time jobs to help fund the travelling, endless application forms and psychometric tests, late nights, long train journeys, interviews, catching up with coursework and the gift of a new suit from my mum. What did it cost you?”

Son of the wealthy auction bidder: “Nothing. But it did cost my Dad £4000. So, can you give me some tips on how to work as part of a team – I never had to learn anything about that you see....”

Bah, humbug. It makes me mad. But, at the same time, it makes me extremely proud of Gemma, who’s going to get wherever she’s going through her own hard work, motivation and perseverance - along with all the encouragement, reassurance, advice, support and cuddles that her mum and dad can muster! We're not in a position to buy a leg-up for Gemma, but even if we were, I like to think we'd choose not to. Allowing your children to gradually find and fund their own way allows them the freedom to be their own person - with no obligation to their parents. 

There, rant over – now I feel good again!

Tired but happy

Usually when I’m tired I feel rubbish and grumpy, but tonight I’m happy knackered. I stayed with my pal Karen on Friday following a fantastic girls night out and we stayed up blethering till about 5 in the morning. Seemed like a good idea at the time! And that was followed by two busy days. Tiredness is a small price to pay for a good weekend.

 I must admit though, I felt my age this afternoon when one of the younger members of the team of volunteers I’m working with announced that she hadn’t been to bed and had come to the office straight from her own Hen night/morning! There was me, struggling to keep my eyes open, still recovering from a boozy late night on Friday and there was she, fresh as a daisy after having not slept at all on Saturday night then spending all day Sunday doing some pretty intense training for our voluntary work. Aye, I’m definitely showing my age.

Having said that, I think that me and the rest of the 40 something year old girls I was with on Friday were first on to the dance floor and last off;  it may take me longer to recover, but there’s plenty of life in this old dog yet!

Lovely Linda

Our family came together to celebrate Gordon’s birthday last night, except Gemma who, unfortunately, couldn’t make it down from Uni. We had a great time and everyone was in good spirit; though special mention should go to Alex’s dad and Tom (my favourite uncle) for being on top ‘banter’ form, and to my Mum for baking her infamous birthday dumpling!

While we were all having a laugh and reminiscing over Gordon’s past 16 years, a friend of mine was doing her very best just to get through the day:

Sometimes you meet someone and, within a very short time, you know that they’re going to become a welcome addition to your life. On the first day of the course that I recently completed, I was lucky enough to meet a few such folk and I probably gained just as much from them – as individuals – as I did from the actual content of the course. One of them in particular, Linda Sterry, has become a firm friend and she’s probably one of the most resilient people I’ve ever met. On the 15th of March 2009 Linda’s two year old little boy, Gregor, died suddenly - totally out of the blue, with no warning whatsoever.  He just didn’t wake up. The same day that we were celebrating Gordon’s 14^th birthday, the Sterry family’s world fell apart.

Now, my first impression of Linda – before I knew about Gregor – was of a lovely, confident, happy, well-informed, interesting, genuine woman who likes to laugh (a lot!). As I’ve got to know her, I’ve discovered that my first impression hit the mark - but I’ve also discovered that there’s much more to Linda than first meets the eye. When Gregor died, the family received a lot of support from the Scottish Cot Death Trust and Linda has, ever since, been an effective and active advocator of this extremely worthwhile charity. In fact, after beating off the competition from thousands of other applicants, she recently won a place on the Vodaphone World of Difference Programme, which funds selected people to provide invaluable help - using their transferable skills - to the charity of their choice for a two month period.  Linda has thrown herself into this project and the SCDT is going to benefit greatly from her input, indomitable spirit and commitment. Since Gregor’s death, she’s already helped to raise over £15000 for the charity through a fundraising walk – and that’s before she plays a more official role! As part of the programme, Linda has to keep a blog – check it out if you’d like to meet her!

As if that wasn’t enough for one person to be dealing with, Linda’s husband received a kidney transplant six months ago after a long battle with renal failure. She’d made a choice to learn how to administer his treatment and had a room in their house converted so that she could nurse him through dialysis three times a week for five hours at a time at home. This latest transplant has been much more successful than his last so the family – Linda, Mark and their son Ben – can start doing some things again that have been nigh on impossible for a long, long time. Things that most of us take totally for granted. Recently Linda and Mark attended a REVIVAL conference; it’s a local charity that supports transplant patients in many different ways and Linda’s been pretty active in finding out how her and Mark can get involved.  And, from firsthand experience, Linda asks everyone if they’re aware of the donor register and, if not, makes sure they become better informed. I was already registered when she asked me.

So, she’s quite a lady is Linda, which is why I’ve dedicated this post to her and her worthwhile causes. I admire and respect her for making such a positive difference to people’s lives following unthinkable tragedy in her own; but admiration and respect don’t necessarily make for good friendship. It’s things like her sense of humour, love of a good blether and a mutual high regard for people who make the most of life that probably made us click.

From last night on, there’ll always be a special little place in my heart for Linda on Gordon’s birthday. Sometimes, in the midst of celebration, it doesn’t do any harm to stop for a moment, remember that life’s pretty fragile, and just appreciate and be thankful for everyone and everything we have around us at that very moment in time. And, sometimes, on even the happiest of occasions, it’s OK to shed a wee tear for the special people who either we, or our friends, have lost.

A baby and a birthday

Friends of ours have just had a baby. John, the proud Dad, arrived at our house at 1 o’clock yesterday afternoon - absolutely shattered, grinning from ear to ear, tears in his eyes - to tell us that Emily had been born at 8am that morning. He was literally oozing happiness. Today I bumped into John while I was in M&S looking for a gift for Emily; he’d been sent to buy some ‘tiny baby’ sleep suits as the ‘new born’ clothes that they’d taken in to hospital were too big! We never had that problem with any of our three kids when they were born! Not that they were bruisers, but let's just say they were fairly easy to handle!

My last baby, Gordon, was born on the 15^th of March 1995. He arrived at around 6am and by 11am we were home. By 3pm I was in front of the computer sorting out the payroll for the week. (Who said working from home was easy?!) So, tomorrow we’ll be celebrating Gordon’s 16^th birthday, while our friends are just about coming back down to earth after the birth of their first baby. It brings a big fat drippy tear to my eye; I’ve got so many happy memories of those first few weeks after Gordon was born - and so many more from the years that have followed - but the depth of emotion you feel those few hours after your baby's born is something else. I've been extremely lucky to experience that feeling three times in my life and I will never, ever take for granted just how lucky I am. My three healthy, brilliant kids have grown up into young adults who make me proud every day. (OK, so I'm a wee bit high on emotion tonight - but, as I've said before, it's a mother's perogative to be biased when it comes to her children!)

I've just realised that it's past midnight, so this post will be dated the 15th, but it is still the night before Gordon's birthday. Best go wrap his pressie and write his card now; wonder if my poem will be up to his high standard (see earlier post)...?!

Saturday night in.

Snow outside. Log fire burning. Dinner in front of telly. Beer, chocolate and ‘Slumdog Millionaire’.  Everyone at home.

Simple - but makes me feel really good. 

A phone call and new friends

The phone rang last night while I was doing some work using a voice recorder. I forgot to press the pause button before I answered the phone and I now have a recording to keep for posterity of me bawling: “OH MY GOD! AW PET, AW, I’M SO PROUD OF YOU! OH MY GOD!” ..pause.. “ I’M SO CHUFFED FOR YOU!” It was Gemma phoning to let us know that, following her recent interview, she’s been accepted for an Easter Internship with JP Morgan down in London. The recording speaks for itself really!

And today was a good day too – though, like yesterday, it was tinged with a bit of sadness as I had to say some reluctant goodbyes. It was the last day of one of my courses (not the OU one unfortunately) and I was delighted to come away with a wee certificate stating that I’d passed. Much more importantly, I came away armed with a new set of skills and a new set of pals. Nevertheless, I’ll really miss my Thursday ‘course days’ in Dunblane; I’ll miss my lovely tutor and having a whole day away from the computer and phone, but I’ll especially miss spending one day a week with a lovely bunch of people, a few of whom have become pretty special friends over the past few months. It was hard saying our Goodbyes today, and a fair few tears were shed. However, I’m now looking forward to the start of the next module of the course - which I’m starting through in Edinburgh next month – and I’m definitely looking forward to keeping up with my new pals away from the classroom and getting to know them even better (probably over a nice bottle of wine or two!). And I predict that that’s going to make me feel really good!