Friday Music Mix… Eventually…

Friday again. It is, isn’t it? I haven’t been at work this week – Spring break – so I kinda lose the plot with which day of the week it is. But I know this is Friday. Cos I asked someone this morning, just to check.

Now Friday has become a little music mix for me courtesy of Steve..

Here are the rules.

Each week I will post 3 new questions so…

(1) Go to the music player of your choice and put it on shuffle

(2) Say the question out loud

(3) Use the song title as your answers

(4) No cheating

Question 1 – If I was stranded on a desert island…..

Cajun Born, Emmylou Harris

Don’t really like this one but it’s part of an album that had one really great song on it. ‘Here, There and Everywhere.’ And that one reminds me of my teens.

In this one she sings of family, roots, soul.

That’s really pertinent for me this week because tomorrow I will have pretty much all my family – brothers, sisters, partners, weans et al – here for my daughter’s 21st birthday. Now her birthday was actually last week but she was taken to Edinburgh Zoo and on a pub crawl by her girlfriend and pals. What you gonna do, eh?  So I’m hosting the party and I’ve been at it all day. Baking. Cooking.  And I’m still not done. But it’s been fun. In a kind of hot, bothersome, impatient, let’s-make-a-massive-birthday-cake-and-home-made-lasagne kinda way. Three of my crew have birthdays within three weeks of each other. And it’s also one of my niece’s 16th tomorrow so it’s a four for one sort of do. If I’m fit for it by the end of the cook-in. So, yeah, if I was on a desert island I’d miss my family. Eventually. 😉

But, check this out. If I’d gotten the actual song I love from this album, how apt would the image and words have been?

Question 2 If I was the last person on earth…..

Mean Woman Blues, Roy Orbison

Well, anyone would be if they were left on their tod. Eventually.

Question 3. When no one is looking…..

Mister Mistoffelees, Cats

I’m a secret musical fan. I love them. I could go to every show but don’t always get the opportunity. Apparently, Glasgow doesn’t merit constant show stoppers. One of my ambitions is to go to London on my tod and do the rounds of a few of the classic shows. Happiness is grinning inanely and singing along to favourite musicals. Till I get fed up with them. Eventually.

So, Friday, eh? Just swings around without notice.

Now, with massive birthday cake made, house cleaned and scrubbed. Well, ok, not scrubbed. Sheesh, it’s family. It’s time to chill for me. First time I’ve sat on my bahookie all day.

Have a great weekend! 🙂 x

Closet Companions.

Now my gorgeous, and I do mean gorgeous, daughter came to visit tonight with her equally gorgeous girlfriend. Yeah, gay. The two of them. Just as well I suppose. It would be really awkward if only one of them were.

MK

I mean, can you imagine?

That would be like kissing some guy you didn’t fancy. Or sleeping with some bloke just because he’s a bloke.

Whereas, they’re in love. And it’s obvious. And it’s lovely to see. The two of them head over heels. Ain’t love amazing?

Except when you’re hiding in a closet.

If you’re forced to hide in that closet.

contemporary-closet All paired off. According to anal retention.

‘Cos there are big scary bastards out there.

Like tigers with elongated canines that want to plough through your flesh.

tiger

Or bears with razor claws that might rip you to pieces.

bear claws

Or gigantic pterodactyls whose only aim in life is to spy prey and zone in for the kill.

pterodactyls

Or people.

people

Yeah, people. Most dangerous predators known. Prey usually consisting of anything or anyone that is perceived to be, ‘unusual, distinct, misunderstood, you-name-it-we’ll-find-a-name-for-it’.

Yeah. So, love. It’s a bugger, isn’t it? Just never can tell where it’s going to hit.

That wee bastard, Eros, has a sin to answer for. If only he would point his wee darts at all the appropriate people.

eros

Just think of it.

No more mismatched unions.

Woman gets to be with ‘Mr. Rich Pants with a fabulous sense of humour who also happens to give great oral and knows where all the tickly bits are and understands endlessly why the time of the month just makes you crazy.’

hugh jackmanWhat?!

And man gets a woman with great bazongas and who just loves to swallow. And knows that man-flu is actually a completely whole other type of flu than the usual kind plaguing other mere mortals of the opposite sex.

wanton venus yep. Sorry, guys. Yours is a comic book. ‘Cos, well it just is. Do you know a woman who really likes swallowing? I don’t know one. And I’ve asked.

Yep. The ideal world.

That would be where exactly? And how much is the ticket? And is it cheaper one way? ‘Cos why would we not want to live there?

galaxy

And in that world there would be no war or pestilence.

pestilence

We would all look great until we died at 640.

(No image possible!)

Grey hair would be something that only Afghan hounds sported.

afghan hound

Wrinkles would be something that tortoises proudly presented as an unusual manifestation of age.

wrinkly tortoise

People would be paid a fair wage for a fair day’s work.

fair day's work

There would be no hunger or poverty.

hunger and poverty

All religions would recognise the one God and accept that there were different ways of travelling.

one god

There would be no need for politicians.

OK, scratch that one. I’m not sure what world that would be. ‘Cos bacteria seems to exist everywhere.

bacteria

But you get my drift, surely?

Love is just beautiful when evidenced.

Now I could just have reblogged Rene’s post here. But I thought, nah! I have two gay children. One of each. I know these kids. They are mine. I get who they are. They are mine. And no one is keeping them from knowing love. Not on my watch.

Sometimes it takes many pictures to tell the story. I only need one. The first one I showed. How many does anyone need? Love is love.

Sane With A Touch Of Mad

So here was I earlier congratulating myself on having two ‘sensible’ daughters now in flats. Knowing how to take care of themselves. And budget. Grown up stuff.

The phone call I received last night just after midnight from the sexual health clinic did make me laugh. I thought it must be one of my sixteen year old daughter’s friends who’d been here last night. I must admit, in the earliest seconds of the phone call, I was going, ‘Who? What! When?’ Doubting my own sanity, you know? But I did chuckle. They said they were sorry for phoning me so late at night and would call back the next day!

Turns out several other people were laughing for different reasons.

Someone thought they had won a holiday.

One was obviously slightly concerned that Yahoo had contacted them to report suspicious activity on their account with the threat of a jail term where ‘you know what’ might happen.

Apparently, the one referring to, how shall I say this, love of animals, particularly on a Saturday night, caused some hilarity to the young man in question.

Her future mother-in-law was questioned about being an illegal immigrant with threats that if she didn’t do the conga and post it on Facebook she’d be spending some time in Barlinnie at her majesty’s pleasure.

Now I know that my daughter has a rather weird sense of humour at times but she’s 24 for crying out loud.

I blame it on the stress of being a nurse. They like to let their hair down now and again. Oh, and alcohol too, obviously. 😉

But at least she did apologise.

“ I would like to apologise to anyone who may have been affected by my antics last night. Some individuals may require a more formal apology but due to the nature of the behaviours I’m unsure who these people are.. If you feel you fall into this category please do not hesitate in contacting me directly. Thank you.

Ps dear vodka we are overrrr!”

Her equally ‘aged’ friend has just facebooked me an apology

“Eh yeh I think I did do a shift at the sexual health clinic last night, sorry!”

Young ones, eh?

It’s been ages since I’ve done that. What an old fart I now am. 😦

Echoes Of A Voice

Echoes of a voice

From distant days

Relive the moments

 

Reminders

Of times past

But not forgotten

 

Like a song

Once played

On repeat

 

Again

The tune recalls

With rhythm

 

And melody

But mostly

Words

 

And heartbeat

Quickens

In time

 

A tuneful

And timeless

Love

 

Awakened

By echoes

Of a voice.

Forget Love?

No one forgets; and I don’t forget.

How can we forget when we love?

It buries down deep; infuses our being,

Suffuses our senses; leaves our thoughts reeling.

 

Who can forget when they’ve loved? Even lost?

Why would we want to though love counts a cost?

But the cost that it counts is a price that, once paid,

Cherishes life and feelings we’ve shared.

 

It harbours belief in fortunes they tell

And harkens to kismet and spiritual bell.

It listens to prayers and hears when we call

It values our worth and shares out to all.

 

Hurts they will come from the knife edge of love, but,

Though razored through, we heal and behove

Love to all others, for once we have known

Amity in lives, it must then be shown

 

To all whom we meet, with a zest for our living,

A passion for life, a thought to what’s given

To others who seek a touch and a taste

Of what lies within all but proceeds from all chaste;

 

The fountain of life, with a stream gushing forth,

Channelling energy and life-giving source.

We bless and we keep those moments we feel

The love of another for love feelings are real.

 

Love lasts forever though some may depart

For love is eternal in soul and in heart.

Those gone now, departed, by death or from choice

Loved once, if but briefly, still cause to rejoice.

 

My mind is awash with the feelings I feel

A wondrous reunion with spirits, all real.

Those whom I’ve loved, those loving still.

That’s all. Just a force that works with free will.

 

Love’s never lost. Never I say.

For into the ether love travels and stays.

It lurks in the corners of those ever loved

And grows or diminishes as life takes its course.

 

But once it’s created in hearts and in minds

It flourishes, flies and source it will find

Where all may return to the plain we were born, till

All love shines in splendour, the most glorious dawn.

More Than Mere Words

Are you ok?

Are you well?

I need to know these things.

When I care, I care.

I can’t make that go away.

Are you thriving?

Are you happy?

Do you need someone?

Is life blessing your days?

Is there a way I can help?

Just say.

Love is what it is.

And spreads.

Be well.

Be blessed by love.

Don’t be afraid.

Or alone.

How are you?

More than mere words.

Hypocritical?

Eighteen year old boyo returned home tonight proudly presenting a new set of speakers for his I-Pod. Including a bass speaker. Wonderful. We’ve all long criticised the quality of some of the docking stations that have seen their way through this house. Never enough bass and the sound quality can be quite tinny. I hate that. Really discourages loud music playing.

I like my music loud. If I’m doing housework (if) I want to be able to hear my music from room to room. When Freddie Mercury is encouraging me to think that ‘I want to break free’ then I want to hear him. If I’m singing my heart out to ‘Who wants to live forever?’ I like the volume turned up.

It’s not that I don’t like quiet music. I do. But I really enjoy it loud and then I can feel it too, thrumming through my body and making me dance. Might be a generational thing and the types of bands listened to in the past. And present, if I’m honest.

A lot of what my kids like I like too. But not all of it. And vice versa. Which might be why sometimes they come home when I’m busy ‘doing housework’ – dancing counts as long as there’s a hoover attached to one hand – well, it does! and tell me that my music is waaay too loud.

So, I’m feeling a bit hypocritical tonight ‘cos I enjoyed David’s demonstration of his new speakers earlier. But now, I want to go and stick them where the sun don’t shine. His room is right above mine. And I can hear and feel every vibration. He has half an hour more then I’m gonna pull rank!

No Names, No Pack Drill.

Maybe I shouldn’t be posting this. I don’t want to get my eldest into hot water. But she can’t go public. So I am. I’ve run it by her and she says if I feel like going for it ‘there’s nothing I can do to stop you’.

My gorgeous eldest 24 year old daughter spent New Year’s Eve working night shift in a  hospital. She’s a nurse. And a bloody excellent one.

I haven’t seen her over the last couple of days but I’ve spoken to her on the phone.

Her back is in agony and she has a trapped nerve in her arm. Why? Well, in their wisdom, the powers-that-be at the hospital decided to let her ward operate two nurses down on Hogmanay and told them, ‘you’ll manage’.

Now, if I were a relative of patients on the ward, I would not be happy to think that the ward was trying to function while being understaffed. Makes sense that something will go to the wall, if this is the case.

As the mother of a nurse, the mother of my daughter, the very idea that management thought it was fine to leave them in this ridiculous position leaves me livid. How dare they? She has her whole life and career ahead of her. She has yet to have children. She does not need to go through life with back troubles. Management has a duty of care to both patients and staff and they have clearly abrogated any sense of responsibility by making no attempt to ensure adequate staff coverage. Not even seeking bank staff to supplement.

The mighty or not so mighty pound has spoken again.

Thankfully, my daughter is no one’s sap.

Money or neglect? Umm, let’s weigh that one up. Or is there really any need to?

My Weans

When my 20 year old daughter said she wanted a ‘family tree’ picture I thought she meant gathered around the Christmas tree. Nope. IN the apple tree! So we did. Down the garden, through the wet grass, up the tree. Not the adults. We’re not stupid! We loitered around the trunk.  My 24 year old daughter and 23 year old son started on their patter and my jaws ached from laughing. All my kids about me for Christmas. Sister and her three, brother, future son-in-law. Magical times. Fifteen gathered to eat, drink, chat, laugh and celebrate. And all to do again for New Year. I wouldn’t have it any other way. But I’ll be needing a holiday at the end of this.

To chat a while –

an hour

or ten –

and know you understand.

And in the understanding, know

that you are understood.

An implicit sort of knowing,

born of love’s connection.

Blessed,

Acceptance,

Joy,

Amazement,

Proud,

Privileged.

In awe.

These,

my own.

I am unworthy,

but not.

I must have had

something to do with

who they are,

how they are,

the wonder they are;

their personalities,

characters,

humour.

Thanksgiving,

we don’t have,

as some do.

But I have,

in measure fullest.

Blessed,

Acceptance,

Joy,

Amazement,

Proud,

Privileged.

In awe.

All twice.

And again

tomorrow

and every day hence.