a busy, special week ahead...

Today sees the start of a week where Gordon’s heading off to his first full time job in the big grown up world, Ross will be in the throes of organising flights, visas and accommodation for his semester in the States, and Gemma’s embarking on a bunch of graduation celebrations with her university pals, culminating with her own graduation on Friday before she moves down to work and live in London on Sunday! And, thrown into the mix, on the same day that Gemma graduates me and Alex will be celebrating our 25^th Wedding Anniversary!

So, an exciting, emotional and busy week lies ahead. I’m feeling incredibly proud, a wee bit sad, very excited, but mostly really good that my wee crew are happy and getting on fine and I so appreciate how very lucky I am to have what and who I have in my life - family and friends alike. I hope never to take any of it for granted.

I’ve been thinking a lot recently about how incredibly lucky I am to be surrounded by people I love and people who love me - and about how important it is to me that we’re able to talk to each other about what’s going on in our lives. It’s also important that we can express how we feel about the stuff that’s going on in our lives, without ever worrying that we’ll be met with anything other than acceptance, compassion and an understanding ear. I guess I’ve been thinking more about all that kind of stuff recently as I was a wee bit upset last week when the transparency of who I am and the way I do things was challenged, and I was questioned as to whether I was being genuine in both my behaviour and attitudes.

 I guess it shook me up a bit and was a stark reminder that I really don’t feel good when I’m exposed to personally aimed scepticism or cynicism. I think that’s probably the same for most folk. The sad thing is that that kind of thing can happen even in the places that we think should be the most safe and accepting. And I guess I was a bit more upset than I would normally be when I’m met with that kind of a thing because it came at a time when my precious kids are venturing out into the big, exciting, wonderful – but also sometimes sceptical, cynical and scary – world. I guess it was a stark reminder that they too will sometimes feel let down, misunderstood or mistrusted and, in typical mum fashion, I just wish I could make the world a cosier place for them all!

However, what makes me feel really good is the fact that as they do head off on the next steps of their exciting journeys, they do so safe in the knowledge that their auld maw and paw, and some of their good friends, have loved them (and will continue to love them) wholly, and unconditionally, simply for who they are. And that knowledge, just as was the case for me last week, will hopefully make the cynicism of the porcupines that they’re bound to come across (remember them, from this previous post) a whole lot easier to cope with! 

So, I'd best be off; I've lots to be getting on with, and sitting blethering to you isn't getting any of it done! Having said that, I've just noticed the time; the boys will be in from work soon....ocht well, I guess my own work work and the ironing will just have to wait! Yup, hearing how Gordon got on during his first day of work, at the end of this first day of what promises to be a pretty special week for the Milne crew, is definitely much more important than a pile of paperwork and a few creased shirts! By this time next week he'll have a week at work under his belt, Ross will be more organised for his semester in America, Gemma will be a graduate and will be living in London, and Alex and I will have had a Silver Wedding Anniversary. With a wee sad and happy tear I can safely say that the very thought of it all is what's making me feel good today....

Inspiring a lovely song...

This is a p.s. to my last post! My pal Paul (remember Paul? My friend from choir who came into the hospice a few times to play guitar and sing with one of the patients? You can read more about him here) has written a song which was inspired by my 'Still burling round the bars' post. I just had to share it here on my wee blog; mainly because I'm chuffed, but also because I LOVE the song! Hope you do too....

I think it's funny
how we used to sit underneath the stars
Taking turns, racing trolleys
Still burling, burling round the bars

Of an age
That we won't stay
forever
'The fearless unafraid'

Head held high
You'll go far
If you keep burling
burling round the bars

Taking turns
to fall in and out of love
Take in turns
to announce our arrival to the world

Head held high 
You'll go far
If you keep burling, 
burling round the bars

I think it's funny
how we used to sit underneath the stars
Taking turns racing trolleys (pushing forty)
but still burling, burling round the bars...  

Paul McKeever, May 2013

Paul writes his own music, and he sings, and he plays the guitar and piano. And, one of his songs reached number 14 recently in the Scottish New Music Charts! I feel absolutely chuffed to bits that my 'burling round the bar' musings inspired him to write such a lovely song.

So, thanks Paul! The sunshine and your song has made me feel brilliant today!

Keeping on burling round the bars...

I was chatting to a good pal today and she was surprised to hear that I did a lot of gymnastics when I was young. ‘You! A gymnast?! You just don’t look like a gymnast!’ (We’re both at different stages of our person-centred counselling training so I’m used to her being – sometimes too – honest with me!!). She went on to say, ‘ I thought all gymnasts were stick thin, petite and graceful!’ Well, she had a point, I was never stick thin (though you certainly don’t need to be that to be a good gymnast!), I was never petite (in fact, I was one of the tallest girls in my class all through school), and I’m definitely not, and never have been, graceful. I’ve always been fairly flexible and bendy though, and I had no fear of flinging myself round the asymmetric bars or prancing along the beam (prancing being the operative word; I could just about manage the odd back flip on the scariest piece of apparatus, but I never reached the dizzy heights of somersaulting on the beam!) So, I was never going to be the next Olga Korbut, but that didn’t matter. I loved the training, I loved spending time with my gymnastic club mates, I loved competing and I loved doing cart wheels, round offs, the splits, back flips, burlies on the bars and all that prancy stuff on the beam. For most of my primary school years, gymnastics was my thing.

And then it was all spoiled. Hmph.  My club mates decided they didn’t want me in their gang any more. Or, one of them decided and the rest followed suit. Ocht, it was rubbish. One minute I felt like a member of a big happy family, the next I felt like the outcast in the corner. I couldn’t understand why it was happening – I remember putting it down to the fact that my peer group at the club were all progressing and getting more and more like Olga, while I was still kind of ‘just doing it for the fun of it’. The final straw probably came for them when we were at a competition in some sports hall or another in Glasgow and I forgot my floor routine! Jeeso, I’m sitting here blushing as I think about it! I can remember the music droning on (‘Bali Hi’ from South Pacific – I’ve hated it ever since!) as I came to a standstill in the middle of the mats in the middle of my routine. I had a complete mind blank. I just couldn’t remember what came next! You know that bit in Dirty Dancing when they’re performing at the Sheldrake and Baby doesn’t do the lift and she starts shimmying and Johnny throws his eyes up in the air and then they get it back together and it all works out in the end? Well, that didn’t happen for me! If only I’d had a Johnny there to rescue me! What did happen was that I just started cart wheeling around the floor like an eejit, one after the other, over and over, with the odd wee wiggle in between. Aw man, I’m totally cringing here as I picture the scene. I must’ve looked like such a numpty! Needless to say, the judges scored me the lowest total of the day and I brought the team position down from pretty high to pretty low! I think I was eleven years old at the time. 

Back at the club it became too difficult for me to stay. Nobody speaking to me, nobody being my partner, everyone throwing their eyes up in the air at me, or sniggering when I stumbled, ocht, just all the usual kind of stuff, just generally not including me. I didn’t put up with it for very long and I left the club fairly soon after it all started. I told everyone else - all my other pals and my family - that I was bored of gymnastics. I didn’t want to admit that I was having to give up something up that I loved because my friends had decided they didn’t want to be my friends any more. In years to come I really regretted leaving; not so much because I missed the gymnastics, but because I felt as if I’d let myself down. I wonder how it would’ve been if I’d simply asked the girls why they weren’t talking to me, why they didn’t like me any more. Or if I'd just kept on burling round the bar. It’s so easy to contemplate and rationalise it all as a grown-up, not so much for an eleven year old.

I’m ashamed to say there were times, when I was young, that I was sat on the other side of the fence; I wasn’t a bully, but I can think of occasions when I went along with the crowd because I was too scared to say or do what I felt was right. It’s so not the way to go.  And I’m so grateful that I came to understand that sooner rather than later in my life. 

One of my old school friends, Debbie, writes a blog and I loved this most recent post. Just like Debbie and her husband, Alex and I have always encouraged our kids to ‘walk their own walk’ and I’m so very proud of the fact that they do just that. Like me, they’ve been hurt by friends not accepting them for who they are at times. But, unlike the eleven year old me, they’ve held their heads high and just kept on burling round the bars. Hooray! And I can't even begin to tell you how good that makes this unlikely looking old gymnast feel... 

A fond wee nod to Laurie....

Ross is away, walking the West Highland Way, with one of his pals at the moment. It’s absolutely baltic in Scotland  – the coldest Easter on record seemingly – so their plan to camp for the duration of the walk was chucked straight out the window after a freezing cold, and sleepless, first night in their little tent! Well, I say little tent, it’s actually a pretty big and heavy 3-man tent and for the past 3 days they’ve been lugging it along the Way for no good reason as they’ve spent the past 2 nights in a Bothy and a Youth Hostel! So, during a quick check-in chat with Ross on the phone last night, I told him to leave the tent at the reception of the Hostel before they set off on their next leg today and I’d take a run up to Crianlarich to collect it – along with any other gear they didn’t need – after they’d gone. I could not have picked a better day for the drive. It was absolutely glorious! Baltic outside mind, but the sun was shining and the snow was gleaming and the hills were magnificent. Yup, Scotland was looking her resplendent best!

And not only was it a great morning for soaking up some fantastic scenery, it was a great morning for putting my ipod onto shuffle and giving it laldy to whichever tune happened to surface and blare out into the car! So, give it laldy I did for most of the journey – until one of our choir songs came on. I couldn't sing past the lump in my throat. You see, we lost someone very special from our Heart of Scotland Choir family on Sunday. Laurie Hamilton - who became fondly known as our Choir Dad - died peacefully at home on Sunday morning after a long, hard fight against cancer. He was a lovely, lovely man and his family are absolutely devastated. He had so, so much more still to give.

Laurie was well known and well loved by many, many people - he was an extremely talented musician, a highly-respected teacher of music, a gifted photographer and had many other strings to his far-reaching bow. Much will be written, or spoken, about Laurie by the many folks who have known him for far longer than me and by folks who know much more about his colourful and influential life than me. But, I couldn’t let this post go by without giving my own special mention to our very special Choir Dad.

Laurie became known as our Choir Dad mainly because most of his ‘real’ family make up the back bone of the choir. Laurie himself played the bass guitar in the Choir’s band; Annie and Jane - the choir’s founders and leaders - are his daughters; Ray, Alexis, Colin, Leonie and Josh - members of the choir and the Junior Chorus - are his wife, daughter, son-in-law and grand children respectively; Steve - the choir’s drummer - is his son; and David - the choir’s chief baby-sitter, sometimes photographer, and general supportive back-up - is his son-in-law (and also a talented bass player). It really is a family thing. So, Laurie became known as our Choir Dad and Ray is fondly known as our Choir Mum. But there’s more to it than that....

I remember this one time we sang at a charity event in The King Robert Hotel in Bannockburn. I think it was only the second time that I’d had to sing a wee solo verse and I remember absolutely bricking it. To make matters worse, we were singing in a busy, bustling bar and we had no microphones. The guy that was supposed to bring the mikes just didn’t turn up. However, as is always the case, Annie just got on with it and, with hearty encouragement, told us to do the same. I was so nervous not being able to hear myself sing and I was sure I would be as flat as a pancake! But, fortunately, sitting in amongst the hustle and bustle of the audience was Laurie; looking, as ever, calm and collected as he watched over his granddaughter with one eye and his choir family with the other. Then it came to my wee bit. As I started to sing, feeling quite sick, I glanced over at Laurie and he gave me a tiny little nod. Just a teeny wee nod of the head. And that was enough. I’ve got absolutely no idea if I did sing as flat as a pancake – and no one could hear us soloists anyway, so it didn’t matter! – but that wee supportive nod of the head was enough to settle my nerves and let me relax enough to actually enjoy belting out my verse! And I guess that kind of sums up how I’ll always remember Laurie: looking over his families - both his real one and his choir one – with love and lending his gentle but strong support and encouragement wherever and whenever it was required. I can think of many moments where I saw him looking on with pride – and sometimes a tear in his eye - as his wife, or daughters, or son, or sons-in-law, or grandchildren performed beside him or in front of him. He’ll be sorely missed by all of us in the choir, but that will be nothing in comparison to the sadness and heart ache that Ray, Steve, Alexis, Jane, Annie and the rest of Laurie’s very special family will have to bare. 

I think I’ve said it before, that writing a post about something so terribly sad on a blog called ‘What’s making me feel good today’ might seem a bit strange and out of place.  But, taking a moment or two to think about how lucky I am to have known Laurie – even it was for a relatively short time – makes me feel good amongst the sadness. Sharing our memories can be painful, but also comforting, and it’s my hope that sharing my little special memory of Laurie just might, just maybe, go some way to making his lovely family feel a wee bit good too, even in the darkest of their days. As I said before, mine will only be a tiny story in the multitude of memories that will be shared and cherished over the coming days; hopefully all of them combined will help give the family some comfort, and even some smiles and laughter, in the difficult times ahead.

So, with the sun streaming through the windows, surrounded by our beautiful Scottish scenery, I swallowed the lump in my throat and sang along to one of my favourite choir songs today. And, with a wee tear in my eye, I gave a fond little nod to Laurie – and did my very best to hit every note of the song on the head...

.... coming back ......

Hullo! So, having said a fond farewell and written the ‘last post’ on my wee blog a couple of months ago, I’ve decided to, em, come back. OK, you may well be throwing your eyes up in the air whilst muttering ‘Jeeso! Make up your bloody mind!’, but I’m hoping you’ll bear with me while I try to explain! I’m not even back with a shiny, new, ‘let’s look at life from a completely different angle’ kind of wee blog; I’ve just decided to, sort of, re-start this one all over again! I guess I feel like a bit of a numpty. I mean, I did write a passionate, considered and very determined ‘last and farewell post’ in January, so I guess I do feel a wee bit silly just now! But, ocht, it’s not really that big a deal to feel silly, is it?!

 So, let me explain why I’ve decided to make a comeback (...that makes me sound a bit like Mickey Rourke! Though, I obviously don’t have any celebrity status to fall back on – and I definitely haven’t had any plastic surgery...). It’s pretty simple really; I knew that I’d miss writing my wee blog, but I didn’t realise just how much I’d miss it. It’s not that I’ve missed writing; I’ve still been writing – mostly in my journal – but it’s just not the same. There’s something about sharing your stuff regularly – or putting it out there – that makes blogging so appealing. I can’t quite put my finger on it, but there’s something really satisfying about posting scribbles that might be read by someone else, might even be enjoyed and might be commented on or responded to. I speak to myself when I write my journal, and it’s just not the same! One of these days, I’d like to have a go at writing articles for the internet, or magazines or even some sort of book (wouldn’t we all?!), but I don’t have the inclination or time for that at the moment. And I just enjoy the whole process of writing a blog post. So, what about the other reasons I gave for stopping; the parrots on  my shoulder, and the worrying about making personal stuff public, and the desire to start a completely different kind of blog? What happened to all of that? Well, I simply haven’t come up with any other ‘angle’ I want to take with a new blog, or anything else I want to write about. Not at the moment anyway. That - of course - might change in the future, but for now I still simply want to write about what’s making me feel good in some of my days. And, as far as my family, and the parrots and the sharing of stuff from an ethical point of view are concerned, well, I’ve decided I’d like to have a go at just being even more cautious and considerate of any possible consequences before I click the ‘publish’ button, in the hope that I can find a way of writing a personal blog that won’t compromise my family, my friends, my colleagues or my clients. It’s going to be a wee bit of a challenge, but one that I’m hoping won’t be insurmountable (which is how I saw it in January) and one that I’m actually now looking forward to with some relish!

We often have to stop doing the things that we enjoy (or the things that make us feel good!) due to some constraint or another and, sadly, the opportunities to get back to those things can sometimes be frustratingly difficult to find. And sometimes we feel a bit embarrassed – or a bit silly – about our decision to stop, and just feel we can’t go back. But this one’s a no-brainer for me. I stopped writing my wee blog because of certain constraints that I’d mostly imposed upon myself, and I guess I feel a bit daft about coming back to it after writing a big fond farewell, but not daft enough to stop me! It’s only a wee blog after all! 

So, here we go again dear reader – whoever you might be this time around! I’m really looking forward to joining you here again, and I hope you don’t think I’m too much of a numpty! Though, if you do, I can think of worse things to be; in the grand scheme of things, being a numpty’s really not that bad! Yup, coming back to something I said Goodbye to – that’s what’s making me feel good today!

Saying a fond farewell.....

With a heavy heart, dear readers, I’ve decided to make this the last post on my wee blog. 

Last month I wrote a deliberating post; bemoaning the fact that I wasn’t writing posts as regularly as I used to, wondering why that was, and eventually deciding that the length of time between posts didn’t matter. Whether I wrote one post a day or one post a month; all that really mattered was still feeling good about writing my wee blog. I also decided that if reading my posts made someone else feel good along the way, well, that was just a brilliant added bonus!

Yesterday someone commented on a post that I’d written two years ago. As ever, I was touched that a stranger on the other side of the world had come across my blog, been moved by one of the posts, then had taken the time to write a comment. She told me a bit about her story and explained why my post had meant something to her. It’s a great example of that added bonus which made writing my blog such a special experience for me, and one of the many reasons why I’ll miss writing here.

So, why stop? Well, I think I’ve been kidding myself on a wee bit over this past wee while. I didn’t mention, in that last ‘deliberation’ post, the parrots on my shoulder. Let me explain. When I first started writing my blog I had one wee parrot sitting there on my shoulder, gently reminding me to be careful about what I was writing as every post was out there in the public domain. Now, however, I feel like I’ve got a whole flock of parrots fluttering all around my head almost every time I start to write a post. “Is it OK to write that? How will that affect certain folk? Better not mention so and so’s name. What will so and so think of me saying that? Do I want so and so to know that I was doing this and that? Is it OK for a stranger to know this simple wee thing about me? Or about my family? Blah blah blah....!” I guess I just don’t feel as free in my writing here as I used to. And I think that’s the real reason why I’ve stopped writing on my wee blog as often as I used to.

Nobody put those parrots there; they all belong to me and I think they’ve mostly popped up as a result of all of the ethical questions I have to continually ask myself as an important part of a practicing counsellor’s way of life. It's not just affected how I feel about my blog; I’ve recently gone through all of my ‘friends’ on Facebook and taken everyone off the list that I've never met. Please don’t be offended if you’re reading this and you’re one of my ‘virtual’ blogging pals – it’s absolutely nothing personal!

It makes me feel really sad to say it, but writing such a personal blog just isn’t sitting right with me anymore. It’s time to stop. I like to think I’ll start up a new blog sometime in the future – hopefully the not too distant future. I don’t have a clue what I’ll call it or what it’ll be about or how much of me I’ll bring to it but if you’d like to see what my blogging future holds, just make sure you’re registered here to receive email notifications (by filling in your email address on the bit over there on the right hand side that says 'Follow by email') and I’ll make sure I post a link to anything I come up with!

In the whole scheme of things, ending my wee blog’s really not that big a deal (...I’m going to two funerals this week...). But I will really miss it and I’ll really miss you. Whoever you are, wherever you are, whether this is the first post you’ve read or the umpteenth – I’ll miss blethering to you here.

I don't want to go on too much more, but I can't stop without saying a huge Thank You! Thank you so very very much for taking the time to read my posts. They've had a lot of views - over 26,000 to date - and I’ve absolutely loved writing them. Thanks to the wonders of the internet, my wee blog will always be here to pop back to for a wee visit now and again. It’ll be good, in the future, to be reminded of things that made me feel good in the past and it’s my hope, dear readers, that some of you can benefit from doing that too – just like that lady yesterday who visited my blog for the first time and felt good after reading a two year old post!

As I’ve said right from the very start; not everyone can have the same outlook on life, but I really do think it’s possible to find something good in most of our days. 

So, what’s making me feel good today? Hm, saying a fond farewell to a great wee pal and remembering all the special times we’ve shared together. 

That’s what’s making me feel good today....

A lovely wee walk

Taking procrastination to a new level today, Gemma and I went out for a wee walk this morning with the intention of returning to the lodge a short time later full of fresh air and fresh ideas...but it didn't quite turn out that way! Instead, we found ourselves whiling away the hours in a gorgeous wee place called The Water Mill. Unsurprisingly, it's a Water Mill. But it's been lovingly converted into an independent bookshop, with an inviting wee cafe downstairs and an attractive wee art gallery upstairs. After browsing around the shop for a while, we settled down beside the stove in the busy wee cafe and, while we were waiting, I had a flick through one of the books I'd picked up. 'The Story of English in 100 Words' isn't as boring as it sounds - honest! It basically just explains the story behind a selection (100 to be precise..) of words from the English language in an entertaining way. Aw, I was fair tickled with this wee gem:

Wee: a Scottish contribution (14th Century). ...blah blah blah....there's a relationship with the Old English word 'weigh'...blah blah blah...Eventually 'wee' became an adjective meaning 'extremely small', 'tiny' and often it was used in a more general sense: 'little'...blah blah blah...then an interesting development took place: 'wee' became a term of endearment - a friendly welcoming word - and began to lose its association with size. That's how it's often used today. So, if someone in Scotland invites you in for a 'wee' drink, BEWARE! It won't necessarily be a small one...

Yup, our walk this morning was supposed to be a little one but, fortunately, it turned out to be a wee one instead! A really lovely walk that kept us out of the lodge for much longer than the wee while intended....!

The Birks of Aberfeldy!

We’re ‘away from it all’ but not very far away! In fact, we’re only an hour’s drive up the road from home in a wee place near Aberfeldy, but it’s very quiet and very scenic and it very much feels like we’re ‘away from it all!’

Alex’s been making the most of it by fitting in a fair few runs while Gemma and I have been making the most of it by, em, lounging around. We did, however, heave ourselves off the couch this morning to hit the hills for a lovely walk on a route that Alex discovered yesterday while he was out on one of his runs.

Aw, it was so gorgeous, and it turns out that the walk's been epitomised by Robert Burns in a song called The Birks of Aberfeldy. There’s even a wee bronze statue of Burns at the side of the path:

(Maybe if you touch the statue it makes you a better writer!)

and, further up the hill, a plaque - beside the spectacular Falls of Moness - which marks the spot where Burns supposedly sat while he was writing the song. I’m not really into Burns, but I googled 'Birks of Aberfeldy' when we got back and I actually loved these words:

Now simmer blinks on flowery braes

And o'er the chrystal streamlets plays;

Come let us spend the lightsome days

In the Birks of Aberfeldy.

   The little birdies blythely sing

While o'er their heads the hazels hing'

Or lightly flit on wanton wing

 In the Birks of Aberfeldy

The braes ascend like lofty wa's

The foamy stream deep-roaring fa's

O'er hung wi' fragrant spreading shaws

The Birks of Aberfeldy

So, there we go, a wee bit of Burns on my wee blog - with a couple of lovely photos provided by Gemma.

Tonight, I'm back to lounging in the lodge and trying to psyche myself up for the onerous task of getting stuck in to my assignment tomorrow. But, as we all know so well, the best laid schemes o' mice an' men gang aft agley....

Rounding off

We’re heading off shortly for the last of the festive season family get-togethers and that’ll be it all over for another year! I’ve thoroughly enjoyed the last couple of weeks, but I’m looking forward now to getting my teeth well and truly stuck in to 2013.

We’re heading up north next week instead of going back to work work straight away; this is such a quiet time in the construction industry, so it’s a good time for Alex to take a proper break and I’m hoping to use the time constructively to make a start on – and hopefully finish! – one of my University course assignments. Gemma’s coming with us too and she also has some Uni work to be getting on with, so it’ll be great to have a comrade-in-arms to help hold off that pesky Demon of Procrastination!

Although I started the course back in October, it still feels like something new and something that I’ve not really properly settled in to. The jury’s still out on just how much I’m going to get from the Diploma over the next couple of years; I’m really hoping that this coming term’s a better one for me than the last and that I start to feel a lot more settled at Strathclyde. I’ve had some special moments there – not least on the first day when I was absolutely delighted to realise that one of the tutors was one of my favourite teachers from my old school! I hadn’t seen him for over 30 years - and it turns out that he’s just as lovely now as he was then – and there are some really great folk in the class who are becoming firm friends. But some things – especially some of the organisational aspects of things – just haven’t lived up to my expectations so far.  It might just be that my expectations were too high – time will tell – but I’m looking forward to getting back in a few weeks and making the very most of it - no matter what ‘it’ turns out to be in the second semester!

In the meantime, duty calls! One last night of doing the extended family thing with more good food, more chit-chat and a few more beers to round off the festivities – and that’s what’s making me feel good today.

A lovely festive season

I couldn't let today go past without wishing you a Happy New Year! I wrote my first blog post on the first of January 2011 and I don't think I thought for a minute that I'd still be scribbling away here two years later! I maybe don't write as often as I used to, but I still thoroughly enjoy doing it when I do (as I discovered after thrashing through my blogging thoughts on a recent post!). So, thank you, dear readers, for dropping in every now and again to plough through my ramblings!

This next load of ramblings should've been posted last week - I just never got round to publishing it and it's been languishing in my Drafts folder since last Saturday! So, I've dragged it out and pasted it on here - which means that this post's a wee bit ass for elbow! However, it means that I don't have to think of too much else to say this morning and can get back to lounging around doing very little before we head off for our traditional steak pie dinner at my wee mum's!

Saturday 29 December 2012

I'm enjoying a lazy morning playing around with the new toy that Santa surprised me with. Everyone else in the house is still in bed (after late night partying shenanigans) so wish me luck with my first attempt at writing a post from my shiny new iPad - without any help from my children! (I feel so old....)

Well, that's Christmas over for yet another year and yet another lovely one it's been too! I'm knackered this morning (and my brain's struggling to keep up with even the slightest movement of my head...) after the afore-mentioned late night partying shenanigans, but I'll do my best to string some words and a few photos together to give you a wee flavour of some of the things that made me feel really good during my festive season!


Twas the Friday before Christmas and Santa Linda had called for help with the collecting, transporting, unpacking and stacking of many, many boxes of food and toiletries that had been donated by the kind people of Dunblane following an appeal by local charity 'Start Up Stirling'. Many elves from the Dunblane, Stirling and surrounding areas turned up to help and that, in turn, meant that many of Stirlingshire's most vulnerable folk would have a more hopeful start to their new year, with at least a few nourishing meals to put on their plates. And that made Santa Linda and her elves feel really good!



The Saturday night before Christmas involved a heady mixture of Prosecco, cocktails, good food and lively chit-chat shared with some of my old girlfriends from Central AC. Most of us aren't actually running very often (or, as in my case, ever at all) nowadays -but I love that our friendship's transcended that and, although we don't have that one thing in common any more, we do have a shared passion from the past  that binds us together...along, of course, with our shared passion for good banter, good food and wine...!


Christmas Eve Eve came next and with it came a truly fantastic evening at The Royal Concert Hall in Glasgow. The Glasgow City Chorus and the orchestra of Royal Scottish Opera had joined forces to perform in 'A Christmas Cracker' and the audience, with my mum and me included, really were treated to a cracker of a concert! Aw man, my spine was tingling along to the glorious harmonies and I loved joining in with the choir during the Christmas sing-along. Just the ticket to really set the scene for the next few days' festivities!

One of my annual tasks on Christmas Eve is to make up and stick up Gargunnock's Alternative Christmas Card. I can't remember if I've ever mentioned our village's Alternative Christmas Card before here on my wee blog. It's really simple; instead of giving our neighbours cards, some of our village's residents make a donation to a chosen charity. I started the initiative off back in 2004 and I love that our village folk are still so enthusiastically joining in! Once the money's been collected, I make up a poster (the 'Alternative Christmas Card') on Christmas Eve wishing everyone in the village a very merry Christmas from everyone on the card. Thanks to the wonders of Just Giving and social networking, this year included some very generous folk who don't even live in our village, and we raised more than ever before; over £1200 for The Scottish Cot Death Trust. Well done Gargunnock, and friends!

Later on Christmas Eve, we had our annual Milne family trip to the movies.This year it was spent with 3D glasses on being thoroughly mesmerised and entertained by the magic of The Hobbit. Then, while we were demolishing our Chinese take-away, we had our annual get-together round the telly with The Grinch.. "it came without ribbons, it came without tags, it came without packages, boxes or bags..." Aw man, I love it! A few beers, a few games, a good few laughs later - along with the thrill of seeing one of the wee lads, who came and played for the patients in Strathcarron, performing on the telly with the Big Noise Orchestra during the Midnight Service from Dunblane Cathedral (we'd only shoved the service on for my wee mum's benefit - but I'm so glad we did!) - and it was time for Santa to come!

We did a kind of split shift of opening pressies during Christmas Day this year - it's good to spin it out! Alex and Ross were joining some of their chums from Central AC for their traditional Christmas run up Dumyat (a local hill) in the morning, so we opened some bits and pieces before they left and the rest when they came home. Hm, that makes it sound like we all get loads of pressies! It's not like that at all; we take turns to open one thing at a time and, with six of us in the room, that can take a while!

One of my favourite moments of the day was watching the kids' reactions when they opened their respective 'special' Santa pressies (yup, my kids are 21, 19 and 17 - but you're never too old for a special present from Santa!!) I love the challenge of finding things that might be worth nothing or seem naff to everyone else but mean something special to the kids. Aw, it reminds me of something someone said in a film we were watching recently: "You should try to give your kids enough to help them do something but not enough to make them do nothing". OK, so this was some rich American character talking about how he hadn't spoiled his kids so that they understood the value of doing things for themselves, and I'm talking about how you don't have to spend a lot of money on gifts for them to be valuable, but I'm sure you'll get the gist!

Anyway, I loved watching the kids' reactions when they opened their own wee special things this year. First, Gemma. After a bit of hunting around on Google, I found this charity called 'Common Hope' that's supported by Marcus du Sautoy (that geezer from Oxford Uni that makes maths appeal to the masses and makes maths interesting,  even to the likes of me!). If you made a donation to his charity (which uses education as a tool to try to break the cycle of poverty) you could put a name to one of his recently discovered new symmetries (a mumble jumble of numbers and symbols that looks like a load of gobble-de-gook to the likes of me..."!). So, what better present for my maths student daughter - who much prefers the 'interesting' way that Professor du Sautoy portrays maths than the boring way her subject's taught at Uni - than the knowledge that she's done a little bit towards helping some kids with their education and gained a certificate recording the new Gemma Milne Group symmetry in the process?!

As for Ross. Well, I think I've mentioned before that Alex and Ross have this project on the go which involves drinking 1001 different beers from thier '1001 Beers To Drink Before You Die' book. There's a lot more to it than just drinking the beer, but I won't go into that just now. One of my friends, Brian, knows a lot about local breweries and he'd suggested I visit The Bridge of Allan Brewhouse for a special gift for their Christmas. Aw, it's such a cool wee place and the guy that runs it couldn't have been more helpful. So, Ross (and Alex's) special pressie was a gift box containing local ales that I'd named and designed the label for, using photos and text all relating to the project. These beers obviously won't be in their book,  but I'm sure they'll enjoy drinking them just the same!

And then Gordon. Well, Gordon loves the movies, but I wanted a gift that wasn't just another DVD or a gift voucher for VUE! I found a website that makes up pretty realistic personalised movie posters, and had really great fun choosing the photos and making up the text to go on the poster. So, keep your eyes peeled for the up and coming blockbuster 'Wolfman' starring Oscar-nominated Gordo Milne! Ocht, I know it must sound a bit naff, but Gordon loved it!

Amongst the other moments that made me feel good on Christmas Day were things like going for a wee walk with Gemma and Mum,

the turkey turning out just right,

being round the table with the people I love most,

and playing silly games..

Boxing Day brought more of the same, but with even more of the people I love most! Alex's family, some more of my family and our oldest and dearest friends came along to help us eat more food, have a few more drinks, enjoy more banter and - the highlight of every Boxing Day in the Milne Household - try to win Gordon's quiz! This year, the ladies managed to draw with the men (we get tanked every year), so there was a big celebration in the wifey's camp - even though we were marked down for being cheeky to the question master and for not knowing that naked tiddlywinks was an extreme sport...

The rest of the festive season has been pretty chilled out. It's been really lovely to do very little and just make the most of us being off work and having the kids around for the holidays. We had a great night out at a party in the village (last night's shenanigans) and thoroughly enjoyed catching up with some old friends and being introduced to some new - but most of my festive season's been spent just enjoying being at home with my wee family. And that, more than anything, has made me feel really good.

....and that, dear readers, seems like a good place to stop this first post of the year and wish you all the very best in whatever lies ahead for you and yours. I hope that you all have a healthy and a happy 2013 and, of course, I hope that lots and lots of things happen this year to make you feel really good!

the hospice staff singing my song

I’ve had a lovely past few days and I’m starting to feel all warm and fuzzy inside!

It started with Ross and Gemma arriving back from Uni for the holidays. Hooray! Gemma’s had a pretty mad time of it recently what with one thing and another and it’s great to have her home for a well-earned break after traipsing up and down to London for rounds of graduate placement job interviews followed by a difficult bunch of final year exams. Ross has his exams to come after the holidays, so he’s hoping to fit in a bit of studying amongst the festive frolicking...hm, well, that’s the plan anyway....!

And then there was Gordon’s school concert at The Church of the Holy Rude. What a great night! So many talented singers and musicians in such a beautiful setting. I’m obviously slightly biased but the Vocal Group’s performance was definitely one of the highlights of the concert! Here’s a wee clip of Gordo and friends doing their thing (the video-ing is rubbish, but it's more enjoyable with your eyes closed anyway!):

Sticking to the music theme, I had a really special and lovely time at the hospice's Day Care Christmas Party. I actually didn’t think I was going to manage along but I’m so very glad that I did. I’ve had to make some difficult decisions during this past wee while in connection with the music side of things at Strathcarron and have had to take a bit of a step back from being so involved with bringing basic music therapy to the hospice. I absolutely love working with the patients and their families and the staff and the musicians and the singers and the school groups and everyone else! And, I would love to carry on at the same level that I’ve been used to over this past 9 months or so. However, for various reasons, that's just not possible at the moment and I really do miss the work. Even more so, I really miss the people associated with the work.

Anyway, back to feeling all warm and fuzzy inside! A while ago I wrote a wee ditty to be sung at the Day Care Christmas Party. The party’s a really special occasion as it’s the only time of the year that all the regular day care patients and volunteers from each day get to spend time together. It means that the hospice is even busier, livelier and louder than usual with everyone all mingling in together to create a really special atmosphere. So, I thought it would be great to have as many staff representatives from as many of the different hospice departments as possible coming together to sing for the patients. With that in mind, I adapted The Twelve Days of Christmas and started to recruit members of staff to join in, allocating one of the days of Christmas to each department. So, the physio department was given the line ‘two legs to stretch’ and the medics were given ‘three chests to sound’ and the fundraising department was given ‘six cans to count’ and the auxiliaries were given ‘nine pans to empty’... I'm sure you're getting the gist of it! I’d really just started the process of recruiting the staff Christmas Party Choir when I had to reduce my time spent at the hospice, but I was delighted when one of the nurses took up the mantle and saw the project through to completion! This is how it turned out on the day (apologies for my rubbish video-ing skills again!):




Aw, I was so chuffed to see my wee idea come to life and - much more importantly - hear the patients laugh out loud, sing along and show their heart-felt appreciation to the staff with loud applause and cheers at the end. It was yet another favourite moment from Strathcarron to add to the list! 

You know, I'm keenly aware that this is the most difficult time of the year for many people. The cheery Christmas portrayed by adverts on the telly showing a stereotypical happy family with its stressed-but-always-happy-on-the-day mum, laid back jovial dad, two perfect children, doting grannies and wagging dogs couldn't, in reality, be further from the truth for many folk. Many folk, including some of my relatives and friends, will struggle to have a very merry Christmas. It might be because they're desperately missing someone or because they're desperately worried about someone, or because they're desperately ill or because they're just feeling generally desperate. There are a whole host of reasons why people dread Christmas. 

All of these bits and pieces over the past few days, along with some other bits and bobs, have got my festive season off to a lovely start and I'm so very lucky to be looking forward to a Christmas full of good cheer with my family around me. Yup, so much to feel good about, and so important never to take any of it for granted.

writing this...

I’ve had a funny past wee while, as far as my blog's concerned. I could easily have found something that made me feel good in every day - even the shittiest of days - but for some reason it felt like a bit of an onerous task to sit down, think about what was making me feel good then write a post. Regular readers might have got a sense of that from some of my comments over these past few months. And the lengthy delay between posts probably speaks for itself!

It would be easy for me to blame the lack of motivation to update my blog on being busy. Maybe I’ve just not had the time? I have been really busy; still volunteering at Strathcarron, still trying desperately to keep on top of work work, still doing coursework, still being a member of the choir (though not managing along as much of late), still being there for my family and still keeping up with the dirgy stuff like the housework etc (...only just...!). But, having said that, I’ve been really busy with one thing or another ever since I started writing the blog - whether it was volunteering, work work, some course or another, choir rehearsals and gigs, family things or all the other stuff – and I can’t really remember a time during this past two years when I’ve not been busy. So, I can’t blame my lack of motivation for writing here on not having the time. No matter how busy I was, I used to regularly make the time to write my wee blog.

It might be that I’ve become more disciplined in writing my personal journal. Keeping an up-to-date journal is, for me, a pretty essential part of the Post-grad diploma. I was hopeless at doing it during the skills course last year (maybe because I spent too much time writing blog posts instead?!) so this time I’m determined not to let my journal slip. I’ve got a really rubbish memory, so the more I jot down at the end of the day the better! Hm, maybe my blog-time has now become journal-time? But, writing a personal journal doesn’t give me anything like the same kind of pleasure that writing a post for my wee blog gives me. So, surely I’d still make the time to write my blog more regularly if that was it?

Maybe it’s because I’ve felt quite sad on quite a few more occasions than usual over this past wee while. I keep losing people, and things, and special people from things, and things that involved working with special people. Ocht, that probably doesn’t make much sense; it’s just that I’m wondering if feeling a bit sad recently has played a part in my lack of motivation to write here. But, there's definitely been plenty of good stuff mixed in with the sad - and there’ve been plenty of other occasions over the course of this past 2 years when I’ve felt sad about something but still felt keen to write a post for my wee blog. Nope, I don’t think that’s it.

Hm, maybe my wee blog is reaching its sell-by date this time. Maybe it’s run its course. Maybe there isn’t any one particular reason why I haven’t felt like writing a post. Maybe I’m over-thinking it! When I’ve toyed with shutting up my blog shop in the past, good friends and loyal distant followers have been kind enough to say that they’d miss it if it was gone. Is that it? Do I need some kind of positive feedback every now and again to help motivate me to continue? Ocht, I’m disappointed with myself for even considering that to be the reason. I'm not looking for sympathy, empathy, or for my blog posts to be praiseworthy, creditworthy or any other kind of -thy! I’ve said right from the beginning that the purpose of the blog was simply to encourage me to write, without getting hung up on the technicalities, about things that made me feel good. It wasn’t to create a popular piece of prose! I’m touched that I touch some people in some way or another with some of the things I write - but that should never be the sole reason for me keeping on with my blog. It should always be something I do to make me feel good. Writing this, right now, is making me feel good. Making readers feel good too is a glorious added bonus.

I think I might just have answered my question. 

Ocht, it's so simple. There doesn’t need to be a time-limit between posts, and I shouldn’t get so hung up on reasons why I haven’t felt like writing a post. It doesn't matter! Sometimes I'll have the time or motivation to write here, sometimes I won't. Jeeso, I don't know why I was making such a big deal of it!

There we go; I’m definitely not ready to say goodbye to my wee blog and lose yet another thing that makes me feel good! Decision made: this wee blog’s here to stay for another wee while yet. 

And, dear reader, if you've managed to stick it out till the end of this post - well done! I'm going to leave you with a song. It's really in tribute to one of my best choir buddies (you know who you are and I'm going to miss you SO much!), but it also just seemed like a nice wee song to finish off my ramblings tonight. See you ..... sometime soon!

music here and there...

It’s been ages since I last wrote about anything on my wee blog. I was going to do a ‘this’s been happening and that’s been happening’ kind of spiel, but too much’s been happening for that! So, I’ll just go back to basics and tell you one of the things that made me feel good today.

I’ve been a bit down in the dumps over these past few days and a bit weepy. Ocht, it’s just not like me and I’ve been trying so hard to shake it off! There’s a reason for me feeling a bit upset, but it’s not something I feel comfortable about sharing, so I'll just keep that part of the story to myself. I’ve not been a total misery guts and, as ever, I’ve been finding plenty of things in my days to make me feel good: spending time with Gemma while she was home over the weekend; learning interesting stuff at Uni yesterday and getting the go-ahead to start my placement work with clients (woohoo!); demolishing a bottle of wine on Monday night and enjoying lots of boozy chit-chat with Alex (I’d been looking forward to a good ‘get-it-out-your-system-sing-song’ but choir practice was cancelled and I was left with no option but to hit the bottle instead...!); enjoying a nice lunch with a good friend; watching Gordon perform on stage with a fantastic vocal group made up of pupils from our local schools; and finding out that I’m not the only middle aged wifey who suffers from a freezing cold nose......

OK, so that last one sounds a bit weird – let me just quickly explain! My nose gets really cold, and I mean really cold. Poor Alex’s had to put up with me going on about it, and getting him to feel how cold my nose is, day in, day out, “Feel it! It’s absolutely freezing, isn’t it?!” Even when the rest of my body is nice and toasty, my nose can be sooo cold. And it gets sore too; it’s so cold sometimes it’s actually quite painful. Stop laughing – it’s not funny! Gemma thought it was funny too, but she humoured me by typing ‘freezing cold nose’ into Google and, low and behold, came across one of these forum thingies with a thread full of posts from women all over the world bemoaning the fact that their nose was always freezing. Even better, they’re all in their 40’s or 50’s and they’re all either menopausal or, like me, have had a hysterectomy in recent years! There’s a whole community out there of wifeys with freezing cold noses! It’s a syndrome waiting to be discovered! I didn’t go so far as joining the forum; these women were taking it all a bit too serious for my liking (“it almost broke up my marriage, my husband just doesn’t understand how debilitating it is...”) but I did take some comfort from the fact that I wasn’t imagining the fact that my nose was sometimes unnaturally cold!

Anyway, as I was saying, I’ve been feeling a bit rubbishy over the past few days but it’s definitely not all been bad and today was no different. After spending the morning catching up on work work, Alex and I headed off to the funeral of someone who’s been a close friend of Alex’s family for many years. Jessie was 92 when she died and had only become more dependent on others during the past couple of years. It was a ‘nice’ funeral, and we came away with a real sense of Jessie having had a lovely, and fitting, send off. Much of that was down to the minister who conducted the service. She was quite theatrical and had a beautiful, operatic singing voice - which thankfully drowned out the drones of those of us who aren’t at all religious and only know the most popular hymns in the book! She clearly knew Jessie well and had visited her many times in the nursing home – but she didn’t just go for a blether; she used to take her guitar in during her visits so that she could sing and play for all the residents. How lovely! I’ll bet the old ladies and gents got so much out of that; I’ve witnessed, on so many occasions, the uplifting effects of taking live music into the hospice and I don’t imagine it to be all that different in a Nursing Home!

It was so fitting that my friend Paul sent me a message tonight to tell me that he'd had another successful visit to Strathcarron earlier on today. I usually try to be at the hospice when folk come in to perform for - or play along with - the patients, but I was otherwise engaged at Jessie’s funeral when Paul visited today. However, I just love the fact that all the while that I was sitting listening to the minister telling us about the difference she’d made to elderly people’s lives by singing and playing guitar for them in their Nursing Home, one of my lovely Myriad of Music volunteers was actually making a difference to the lives of people who have life-limiting illness by singing and playing guitar for them in the hospice! 

And that was just the ticket to make me feel really good today!

When a picture brightens a boring and sad day...

I was having a really boring day today doing the necessary evil of making a start on our wee business’s year-end accounts. The year-end stuff’s not all that much different from the quarterly stuff that has to be done when I’m submitting our VAT return: sitting surrounded by piles of messy paperwork; pumping numbers into the computer and hoping that SAGE will sort it all out; hunting for misplaced receipts; trying to make sense of the odd withdrawal and deposit that don’t correlate to any of the invoices or receipts in any of the many piles; cursing when I can’t get the books to balance; making promises to myself that from now on I’ll definitely be more organised with the paperwork on a day-to-day basis; cheering out loud when I hit ‘reconcile’ for the umpteenth time and the two columns match at last; feeling miserable when I’m brave enough to come out from behind my hands to see how much VAT we owe; and, finally, saying ‘Ocht well, at least that’s it finished for another quarter! Hooray!’ and enjoying a big glass of wine or a cold beer to celebrate! It’s been more-or-less the same routine for over twenty five years and, as much as I don’t enjoy ‘doing the books’, I’m hoping that we’ll still have a wee business to do the books for for some time to come! The way things are at the moment in the construction industry, we consider ourselves extremely lucky to still have books to cook!, em, I mean audit...

The day, however, was broken up with a wee visit to my Mum’s. I always try to see Mum on the 25^th of October as this is the day that Dad died, 19 years ago. Some folk don’t mark this kind of anniversary in any way, and I think it’s such a personal thing that there’s no right or wrong way to do it, but me and Mum like to try and squeeze in an extra cuddle on the 25^th. Nothing more than that’s necessary really. Just a wee hug, or a wee chat on the phone if one of us is away somewhere and I can’t go see her. Spending a bit of time with mum had already brightened my day, but I had another real ‘feel good’ moment when I came home.

I’d had my ipod on shuffle during the drive back from Mums and I couldn’t help smiling when the Rolling Stones version of ‘Wild Horses’ started blaring out. It’s only just over a week since I was singing my wee solo verse of ‘Wild Horses’ at the Bertie and wishing that my Dad was there to see me doing my thing! And then it dawned on me that I had a painting up in the loft that Dad had bought for me many years ago. I can’t begin to express how good it made me feel to go up into the loft, eventually find the painting, wipe the dust off and have a good long look at it. I think it was taken down off the wall, along with a load of other pictures, when we last decorated (many moons ago...) and it just got overlooked when the old, and some new, pictures were hung back up. I’ll be finding a new place for it in our house – once it’s had a proper clean – and it’ll be back on view where it belongs!

Here’s the picture:

And here’s me doing my thing with all my choir buddies:

A picture of a horse from my Dad and singing my first solo on a song called 'Wild Horses'! What a happy coincidence! And that's what made me feel really good on an otherwise pretty boring, and pretty sad, day. Yup, Feeling Good!:

Still Bertie Buzzing!

Well, the Bertie buzz just keeps going on and on! What a fantastic night. In fact, I’m kind of stuck for words for fear of launching into a repetitive and long list of superlatives! Ocht, on the other hand, why choose now to change the habits of the lifetime of this wee blog?!

After writing yesterday’s post, I spent a good couple of hours on important things like having a last ditch attempt at trying to learn lyrics so that I wouldn’t have to look at the words once during the whole concert (fail!); deciding which tights I should wear (result! Ladder-free all night!); deciding whether I should do my make-up at home or at the Bertie (good call as we didn’t have much time between sound-check rehearsal and performance. Enough time for a quick re-touch job. There’s only so much you can do with the war paint at my age anyway!); having a last practice of my solos (result – I managed to do them without a bum note, I think, and I remembered all the words!); deciding how many bottles of water to take (Yup, five wasn’t too many! I drink a lot of water between songs – think it’s more of a nerves thing than a thirst thing - hence the reason why I’m always first to rush off the stage...); deciding whether to go straight or curly (being heavy-handed with the straightners was a good call as the heat on the stage would’ve had me looking like Crystal Tipps if I’d gone for wavy; deciding whether to wear a wee cardy or not (BIG mistake with this one; the photos are unforgiving on the big chicken arms department!); and, lastly, practicing the surprise ‘Thriller’ dance that we were doing as part of our encore (FAIL!! I nailed it when I was practicing, but come the real thing, in front of hundreds of folk... Oh dear!). While all of that was going on Gordon, my fellow choir member and youngest son, was ensconced in front of the telly; cool as a cucumber and throwing his eyes up in the air every time I flew in and out of the room, and wondering how he managed to get landed with a mother who needed his advice on whether to go for 10 denier natural or 15 denier black....poor soul! Alex had escaped the mayhem to compete alongside Ross in a cross country event up in Dundee. Good call. Gemma had nipped across from St Andrews with her good pal Lizzie to cheer them on before coming to the concert at night. Good call staying clear of the house!

Anyway, after all that, we both headed off to the Bertie to get down to the serious business of the sound check and last wee rehearsal. Aw, it was just great to walk in and start to properly share in the big Bertie buzz with everyone. I was, however, really sad to discover that one of my friends, and fellow soloist on 'Feeling Good', Laura had pulled a muscle in her chest, was in a whole lot of pain, and wouldn’t be able to take to the stage. I felt so gutted for her and I’m already looking forward to a future gig where I’m sure she'll get the chance to entertain another audience with her beautiful voice. As was to be expected, it took a bit of time for the sound guys to get the mikes set up properly and the sound sorted out, and it took a wee while for us to get used to singing on the big stage again. We’re spoiled with rehearsals in a church; the acoustics are awesome and we can all hear each other really clearly, so it’s a bit freaky when you start singing on the stage and can only hear the two people either side of you (I don’t mean that Becky and Christine’s voices are freaky, I mean that it’s more difficult to find your cues, or know if you’re getting it right, if you can only hear the two beautiful voices either side of you!).  As was also to be expected, some of us made a fair few mistakes but, as the old saying goes “best to get it wrong in rehearsal and right on the night!” (or something like that!). And that’s what Annie reminded us of – more eloquently than that – as we made our way to the changing rooms to get ready for the performance.

 A very fast thirty minutes later, it was time to hit the stage. Fortunately, I’d had enough time to throw a couple of yoghurts down my neck, quickly change into my new red frock – and 15 denier black tights - and swallow half a flask of hot water and honey. My throat had been sore all day, so I was resorting to the best old fashioned remedy. It reminded me so much of one of my school shows; we’d been performing it all week and I had two songs to sing on my own. I woke up on the morning of the last day with no voice. Mum, as ever, came to the rescue and plied me with a disgusting concoction of hot water, glycerine and honey. Aw man, it was mingin! I can still remember the taste to this day but it did the trick! I managed to finish the last show and get though every song. Fortunately on this occasion, thirty odd years later, I just had a sore throat and hadn’t lost my voice so I reckoned I could get away without the mankiness of glycerine!

After a nervous wait backstage, and a lovely introduction from our young compere, we all filed out onto the stage. I think we all sensed right away that it was going to be a great night. The audience was big, loud, warm and encouraging right from the very start, and I think we all kind of fed off that. When the folk with their bums on the seats are there to enjoy themselves, and make that clear right from the off, it makes it really easy for the choir members to enjoy themselves. And, as Katie, one of my lovely choir buddies said yesterday, when we’re enjoying ourselves, we’re more relaxed, and when we’re more relaxed, we sound great, and when we sound great the audience enjoy themselves and when the audience are enjoying themselves we’re enjoying ourselves...etc, etc! Having said that, we’ve done some gigs in the past where the audience has been pretty non-responsive and, well, not looking as if they’re enjoying themselves and that hasn’t really stopped us from having a blast! So, maybe my theory’s a load of nonsense – but it was definitely great to have such a brilliant audience cheering us on last night! It meant such a lot to have so many members of my family and most of my best friends in the audience too. I’m sure that helped to calm my nerves a wee bit before we got to the 5^th song in the programme and my first solo. I’d listened to every soloist before me do an amazing job; Ray and Cara on 'Flower of Scotland' (great way to open the show), Greig  and Katy on 'Footloose' (aw man, that had to be one of my many favourites of the night; Greig and Katy are a couple and they just looked and sounded awesome together – and we were all giving it laldy behind them – great fun!), Drew and Annie on 'You Got The Love' (Drew’s a huge character in the choir and has the most original dance moves I’ve ever seen in my entire life) and Morag, Donna, Carrie, Sandra and Paul on 'Black Horse and the Cherry Tree' (during which I was so relieved to remember to not sing ‘Woohoo’ when I wasn’t supposed to!). Then it was my turn. I’m trying to remember what was going through my head as I walked to the mike at the front of the stage, to stand alongside my fellow soloists Sharron and Cara. “Get a grip woman!” comes to mind, but I think next, very quickly, came “Imagine Dad’s out there watching you.” And then I think I forgot that I was worried about forgetting my words or making a mess of it, and I just sang the song. I’ve been a wee bit overwhelmed by some of the lovely messages that I’ve received from folk, and I’m so grateful for them taking the time to let me know that they were moved by the choir’s rendition of 'Wild Horses', or enjoyed our version of 'Feeling Good'. The more experienced and seasoned soloists will be used to that reaction, and will know full well how good it makes you feel, but it’s new  for me and a lovely addition to my Bertie Buzz!

The rest of the concert went on with one fantastic performance after another. There were so many fantastic moments, like our rendition of a truly brilliant song written by Paul (the same Paul that comes into the hospice and cheerily plays guitar for the patients). The choir as a whole sounded brilliant on every song (I'm reliably informed by my friends and family!) and the soloists all gave it laldy. I’m so in awe of their incredible voices, and I so admire the confidence and personal touch that they all bring to their solos. That was highlighted during many of the songs last night. ‘Say A Little Prayer’ is a great example. Three soloists; Sharron, Ash and Paula, three lovely girls with awesome voices to boot, but each also really different, and any one of them could give Aretha Franklin a run for her money! I’m not joking! There are too many soloists and there were too many songs to mention them all. Actually, no there weren’t.  I can’t let this blog post go by without making sure that all of my choir buddies were included somehow or another! This is copied from last night’s programme:

The audience whooped, clapped and cheered and we all just had a brilliant time. Facebook today has been such a lively, happy place for choir members and provided a great platform to release some of that, still very active, adrenalin! I’m waiting with bated breath for a video of our encore to be posted as I’ve had such a ribbing from family and friends about being way out of time on the Thriller dance. With a bit of luck the big tall Zombie with the crazy hair won’t feature too clearly on the recording and my face, with or without Zombie mask, will be saved from disgrace!

I’m thinking that you deserve a medal if you’ve stuck with this post – it’s been a long and fairly repetitive list of superlatives – and I’m thinking that some of you might be thinking “Jeeso, it’s only a choir, and it was only a concert in a town’s hall that holds around 600 folk, and it was only shoving on a red dress and going out for a sing-song on a Saturday night! What’s she on about?!” Ocht, it’s just really hard to explain. It was all of those things, but it was so much more. And I loved every minute of it. I loved that my hubbie, daughter, son, mum, practically-big-sister and my mother and father-in-law were sitting all in a row together, that my other son was on the stage with me and that lots of my pals were dotted around the audience. I loved that all the choir rehearsals on a Monday night have not only been brilliant in their own right, but have resulted in a show that made lots of local people really happy and really glad that they chose to go to a choir concert rather than watch X-Factor. I loved feeling so many different emotions yesterday; nervous, excited, sad, proud, anxious, happy. I loved standing next to my special choir pal, Christine and sharing lots of special moments with her. And, as ever,  I loved spending time with all the rest of my choir friends.

Every single one of them played a part in making me feel sooooo good last night, whether it was by wishing me luck for the solos, making me laugh, zipping me into my dress, making me cry with their amazing voices, singing so brilliantly together or simply by being part of the wonderful thing that is the mighty Heart of Scotland Choir.