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)!
Tuesday, 29 November 2011
Sunday, 27 November 2011
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......
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......
Monday, 21 November 2011
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......
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......
Tuesday, 15 November 2011
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!
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.
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!
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.
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!
Wednesday, 9 November 2011
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'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....
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....
Monday, 7 November 2011
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 75th 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!
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! |
Sunday, 30 October 2011
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 31st 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.
Thursday, 27 October 2011
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!
“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?”
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.
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.
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.
Thursday, 20 October 2011
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.
Tuesday, 18 October 2011
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.
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.
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.
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.
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 goneLike 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 heightsCan 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 dayThat 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.
Sunday, 16 October 2011
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.
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!
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!
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.
Monday, 10 October 2011
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 .....
Sunday, 9 October 2011
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....
Wednesday, 5 October 2011
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....
Saturday, 1 October 2011
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 75th 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.
Thursday, 29 September 2011
Coming out....
I’ve mentioned a few times that I do some voluntary work through in Falkirk on a fairly regular basis but I’ve never actually said what that work involves. However, last night I was really chuffed when I was presented with a wee certificate that signals the end of nine months as a trainee and marks my accreditation as a fully qualified Samaritan.
It’s not all that long since SAMS weren’t encouraged to reveal to anyone – apart from their families – what they were doing when they skulked off into the night (or day, or early morning!) for a shift. But sensibly, in my opinion, that’s all changed and the decision whether or not to disclose their Samaritan status is very much left up to the individual volunteer. Only my family and a few of my friends knew that I was training to be - then working under supervision as - a Samaritan, but I’d always intended being totally open about it once I’d fully qualified. I think there’s far too much secrecy, stigma and hush surrounding the issue of emotional distress and mental health as it is; the more open we can all be about it, and the more we talk about the help that’s on offer - in my humble opinion - the better.
One of the arguments against ‘coming out of the closet’ as a SAM is that it might put friends or family members off phoning for fear of hearing a familiar voice. Well, the chances of that happening are extremely slim - mainly because callers aren’t always put through to their local branch and, if they were, there are so many different volunteers working so many different shifts that there’s only a pretty remote chance that the person answering the phone would be someone the caller knew. If it did happen, the person would be assured that their call would be treated with the utmost privacy and, of course, they would be offered the opportunity to speak to another volunteer. One of things that Samaritans pride themselves on is the complete and utterly confidential, safe space they provide for anyone who needs to talk.
Anyway, it is still a valid reason for some volunteers to choose to keep quiet about being a SAM, but it’s not reason enough for me. I think the positive aspects of being open about working as a Samaritan far outweigh the reasons for keeping it a secret.
One of the most important of these is the opportunity to spread the word that SAMS are just ordinary folk; ordinary folk from all walks of life who've been through a long – and pretty intense – training process, who will listen to people without judging, who won’t interrupt inappropriately and won’t offer their own experiences or opinions or advice, who won’t divulge anything to anybody outside of SAMS and will allow anyone - anyone at all - who’s feeling really low, or upset, or depressed, or confused, or worried, or sad, or is grieving, or is manic, or has financial problems ... well, I think you get the picture... the time and space just to talk. It’s a bit of an urban myth that it’s only people who are thinking about committing suicide that phone Samaritans. The vast majority of calls are from people who are in some sort of emotional distress, but only a relatively small percentage (20%) of those calls are from people who are already either actively suicidal or are having suicidal thoughts. The idea is to, hopefully, help prevent some people actually getting to that stage just by lending an ear.
So, these ordinary folk – who aren’t there as doctors or psychoanalysists or financial advisors or bereavement counsellors or any other kind of specialist – basically just offer a friendly (though well-trained) ear. It’s been shown time and again that listening to someone, unconditionally, can help to reduce their distress; no matter what kind of state of mind they’re in. Offering a friendly ear (that isn’t linked to any kind of religious organisation – another urban myth surrounding the Samaritans) is precisely what the Samaritans do, twenty four hours a day, seven days a week – and it makes me feel great, after a lot of training, mentoring and building up of experience, to be able, at last, to call myself a fully qualified SAM.
Oh, by the way, once I step out of that duty room, I’m just plain Jane again; so, there may well be times that I don't give my full attention to a story, or times that I inappropriately interrupt when someone’s pouring their heart out, and I might even glaze over when someone goes on a bit (sorry Alex!) - for all of that, I apologise in advance! But, I do like to think that what drew me to Samaritans in the first place - being told that I'm a good listener and wanting to put that to good use - will always be with me to some extent, both inside the duty room and out!
Thursday, 22 September 2011
Realising it's time to stop stop stop stop sobbing!
There are lots of things that are bad about social networking sites but, for every one of those things, there does tend to be something else that's good. We'll say that anyway as it helps to justify – in my mind – logging onto Facebook on a fairly regular basis! One of those good things is the warm, fuzzy feeling you get when one of your friends either drops you a wee message or posts you a wee link to cheer you up when you’re feeling a bit down. Back in the olden days, we would’ve lifted the phone or written a letter – but the sentiment’s just the same either way.
Now - as I might just have mentioned recently - I’m feeling pretty sad at the moment. However, some of the messages and other such things that my pals have been sending through texts, emails and Facebook have really cheered me up (maybe only for a few brief moments - as I’m not quite ready to stop wallowing yet - but they’ve cheered me up all the same!). One of these, a message and link that my friend Sue posted (onto my Facebook wall), not only made me smile, but also made me realise that it’s time to stop talking about my tears! So, here’s the link, along with a promise to stop any more stories of my maudlin feelings over Ross moving out. It’s time to get a grip, publicly at least!
Monday, 19 September 2011
Knowing this feeling'll pass
This time two years ago, I was struggling to cope with the fact that the first of my kids had just moved out. Now, when I say struggling to cope, I don’t mean that I was a complete emotional wreck and unable to function on a day-to-day basis! But, I did have a terrible aching heart, I did keep bursting into tears and it did take me quite a while to get used to the fact that my eighteen year old wee girl no longer lived at home. I remember feeling really guilty about feeling so bad, and thinking that it was totally ridiculous that I was so upset. I remember thinking that many of my friends and family members had had to deal with much more awful things in their lives and that I was being pathetic and should pull myself together! But I simply couldn’t help how I felt. So, I kept myself to myself for a wee while – just for a few days – and indulged myself in big dollops of self-pity while mourning the loss of the all-under-the-same-roof stage of my wee family's life. It was important not to let Gemma know how upset I was so, when I spoke to her on the phone, I made sure I sounded happy and excited to hear about all her new friends in her new environment; I genuinely was happy and excited for her, but mixed in with that was a big dod of sadness that had no place in our chit-chats! However, it wasn’t too long before my mood lifted and we'd all adjusted to the change.
One of the positive things to come with Gemma’s departure was the realisation that it was time for me to do something more constructive with the time that I used to devote to the kids and all their bits and bobs. I suppose it was a fairly typical response to the clichéd ‘empty-nest’ syndrome but, whatever it was, it led to such things as studying with the Open University, devoting more time to writing, working as a volunteer with two fantastic organisations, doing a counselling skills course, joining a choir (which is so much more to me than just a choir), keeping up (just) with work work and meeting loads of lovely and interesting people – some of whom have become very special friends – along the way. I’m still not sure where I’m going with all these things, but I’m certainly enjoying the ride!
So, you’d think that this time around, now that it’s Ross’s turn to flee the coup, I’d be better equipped - both emotionally and practically - to deal with his departure. Bollocks. Yesterday I had a lump in my throat as Gemma drove out of the driveway to head back to Uni; I’m used to her going now, but sometimes the little lump still catches me unawares. A few hours later - after a big, painful hug, with no last words from me for fear of the flood-gates opening - Ross also drove off in his wee car, laden with the things that we didn’t move in to his flat last week when he got the keys. Alex and Gordon stood with me out on the drive to wave him off and I thought I was going to burst as the three men that I love most in the world laughed and joked with a last minute bit of banter. And then he was away. Not to another country, or another planet, just to Glasgow. But my boy had moved out, had moved away from home.
I’ve cried a lot since Ross left – but this time I don’t feel guilty, and I don’t mind if anyone were to think it was ridiculous. I know we have to deal with much, much worse things in our lives than dealing with the emotions that come along with our kids moving away from home, and I know – from valuable past experience – that the way I’m feeling now will soon pass. However, I think it’s OK to indulge yourself in a bit of grief for the loss of something that you’ve loved very much for the past eighteen years; your boy living under the same roof as you.
This time around I’m not battening down the hatches; I worked at the hospice this morning, did a load of work work this afternoon and had a brilliant night at choir (even though I did have to keep swallowing hard!). There’s absolutely no shame in feeling sad along with happy, excited and proud when your kids move out of the house. That’s another important thing that I’ve learned during the past couple of years.
Ross is settling in really well so far – which is absolutely the most important thing in all of this – and, in about ten minutes from now, he’ll be walking in to the student union as a legal drinker. So, I’d better finish this off and go get ready to phone my brilliant son. He might be away from home, but that doesn’t mean that his auld maw can’t be first to wish him a very loving, very excited and very Happy 18th Birthday on the stroke of midnight...and I’ll obviously be making sure the tears are saved for bedtime!
Tuesday, 13 September 2011
Mum and her Tesco vouchers
My mum has always played a big part in her grandchildren’s lives and, even though they’re practically all grown up now, she still gets a lot of pleasure out of doing ‘Gran’ things with them. One of those things involves the relinquishing of her hard-earned Tesco vouchers!
On Monday it was Ross’s turn to do the rite of passage visit to the big Tesco in Cumbernauld with Gran to shop for some of the stuff he needs for moving in to his student flat. I tagged along - doing my very best not to interfere, but having to, just occasionally, stick my neb in – and smiled as I listened to my mum and my son debate the merits of such things as a pyrex measuring jug over a plastic one, or a frying pan over a wok, or a fish slice over a spatula. All essential items, of course, for a Fresher at Uni...
Seriously though, it was a lovely way to spend a Monday lunchtime and a nice start to our preparations for Ross’s move. It just seems like no time at all since Mum was taking the kids away for a play in the park, and I love that my lot (and her other grandchildren) still enjoy spending time with her ... whether she’s spoiling them with her Tesco vouchers, plying them with her home-baking or calling on them for help with her mobile phone! Yup, my auld maw's been - and continues to be - a great wee Gran, and we're all so lucky to have her.
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