New Year's Eve

New Year's Eve is coming.
I hate the countdown.
It reminds me that yet another year has passed in which I achieved none of my wishes.
That another year has passed without those I love.
That I have wasted yet another year.

It also reminds me of those around me whom I love dearly and would move heaven and earth for; if I could.
Which strengthens my resolve to do some of the things I want next year.
Vicious circle? Oh yes.

How about you? Do you love or hate NYE ?

Polar Bears = Christmas?

Now don't get me wrong; I love polar bears.
But really, why are they 'decoration du jour' in nearly every shop I pass in Paris this Christmas?
Does Pere Noel now ride a Polar Bear-driven sleigh like the Ice Queen in Narnia?
Did he retire his reindeeer?
Or .... Does he now live in the Arctic?
What's the connection? Ice : winter : ice bears?
Well, whatever their rationale, I'm lovin' it.
I am doing a photo essay of all the shop displays featuring my favourite wild animal, the majestic Polar Bear.
Merry Christmas Parisian window display artists.

Bonding - bah humbug!

Bonding - no, not glue and two sides of something forced together with it, but bonding of the family variety.
Is that an American term? Should it even be a term at all?
Isn't togetherness for families what it is all about?
How sad that we have to be reminded to notice our parents, our children, our siblings. That we have to be forced together.
Have our lives been so bombarded with nonsense, that we have forgotten the basics of the family unit?
I heard a radio host talk about it on my drive to work this morning. He suggested giving your kids "total attention parent time"coupons for Christmas. I must admit, if the concept depressed me, the fact that many parents would actually do it, depressed me more.
Yesterday I baked cookies with my daughter. And I drove through the dark and the rain to pick up my son, so he could share dinner with us.
Was I bonding? Bah humbug - of course not!
But I daresay some see my actions as being the glue that keeps us together.
Oh well.

Christmas in the Cold

Call me crazy, or inspired.

I am going to fly from the humid, sweaty tropics to the cold, windy delights of Paris and London for the two weeks leading up to Christmas. 

Excitement has set in and it is now, as I write this, only two weeks before takeoff.

I am picturing a light dusting of snow over the rooftops. 

Scarves, gloves, boots and wooly hats. 

Hot chocolate at a pavement cafe. 

And oh the lights! Lights and Christmas decorations everywhere. 

Tinsel and glitter. Baubles and trinkets. 

Shop windows warm and inviting, full of prettily wrapped presents, green and red. 

Cheerful folk, noses red, a spring in their step.

But I must control my excitement and curb my dreaming, lest reality disappoints.

While I am there, I plan to take a photographic journal and jot down notes about everything I see.

I want to capture my emotions, the smells, the feel of new textures.

Bon voyage, bonne vacances to all and I'll be back on Boxing Day, revived, refreshed and very, very homesick.

Look at what is inside.

What do you do when faced with a friend you haven't seen in many, many years and see instantly those years haven't been kind to them?
You try to hide your shock at their aged appearance.
You look beyond it to the friend you knew before.
Look through it to their wit, charm and kind soul.
Count your own blessings.
And rejoice in the reunion of two good friends.

Rhapsody of Rain

I love the rain. It refreshes, quenches, cleanses, cools.
The aroma of parched ground after it soaks up the first precious drops, be it tarmac or soil, is unparalleled.
Of course, this is a selfish fancy, realised in a country where rain is neither a rarity nor a threat.
But lying still in bed, listening to its rhythm on the tin roof, feeling its cool caress blow in through the window, is sheer joy.
Something I cherish.
How about you?

Peace OR Conflict ?

I am sitting here, crafting a short story, listening to the various birds' song, watching rays of sunlight filter through the swaying leaves, feeling at peace.
But then a switch flips in my head and I shiver. How can I be at such peace when so many bad things are happening in the world? 34 vehicle pile-up on the M5, 500 dead in the Bangkok flood, more dead in the Cambodia deluge, another suicide in Bedok Reservoir, a missing child, a lost pet, the disappearing ice cap.... on it goes. My daughter is convinced that the world is ending next year. Should we hunker down and get ready, or go wild and live our last moments in pure joy?
As these issues are too varied and complex for my simple mind to get a grip on, my POP is this : live for today and let tomorrow take care of itself.
I'm going out for lunch and some retail therapy now :)

Analogy for Life

I heard today what I long knew; that the path from writer to author is a long and tortuous one, along which one must retain one's purpose for writing, or fall off the path.
I add that one must fiercely retain one's sense of humour, to stay on the path.

I would add that these navigation must-haves serve us through life. Suffer the knocks, laugh them off, learn and move forward strengthened by them.

Money - root of all ills?

Why is our society so concerned about money? Why do money worries consume some people until they are made ill or, worse, end their lives? Why does one bemoan that one never has enough, when one quite likely does? How many ads can one read about financial security, children's education funds, retirement funds, before one starts to become agitated?
I read about a lady who gave up everything, gave away everything, to travel the world bartering and working to survive; a new meaning to living hand to mouth. And she is perfectly happy.
Of course, she no longer has responsibilities, commitments, dependents. But to know she has lived happily like this for over 10 years, had me thinking.
It had me happy, for a short while, that it is possible.
And then it had me depressed and stressed again.
For I have worried about money, or the lack thereof, ever since I was a teenager.
We want to better ourselves and our families. And money talks.
I read a quote today that summed up how our materialistic society is hurting us:
‎"Don’t let making a living prevent you from making a life." — John Wooden
I wish it weren't so.

Cathartic properties of Twitter

My POP about Twitter is that it either is loved or hated  - no inbetweens.
As a business tool, people can work wonders with it; creating leads, pushing events, promoting products and so on.
For celebrities, it is great for keeping fans close and ever interested.
For some romantic souls, it is a place to work things out, to talk yourself into, or out of something. It is cathartic.
All I ask is that it isn't used by lonely souls to share how lonely they are - no one really cares that you had cereal for breakfast again or how many times you farted unnoticed.

Secrets. Soul Food.

Why do we keep secrets?
There are big ones, small ones, embarrassing ones, secrets that could get us into trouble, or others.
And usually, they won't stay secret for long. So why do we persist in keeping them?
My POP is that we need secrets. They empower us. Give us something to help us feel one-up over those who aren't in the know. Something to cling on to. Give us depth. Something to worry over.
Without them, we feel less meaningful. Insipid. Bland.
So I say all hail to our secrets!
Be they silly, serious, small or big; long may they give us confidence to face the world.

Driving peeves.

Why is it that some well educated folk leave their brains at home when they drive?
Don't they know that holding an infant on their lap in the front passenger seat is a death sentence? Don't they care that cutting across 4 lanes at high speed, then skimming across the chevrons at the exit is dangerous? Or that leaving a slippered foot dangling off the motorbike pedal is asking for 5 toes and maybe the whole foot to be chopped off? Or that cars come with indicators so that you can do just that, indicate your intentions so that drivers behind you can anticipate your move? Or that slowing down way before the traffic lights so that they don't have to stop is selfish?
And the list could go on and on, as do the drivers and their brainless driving habits.
I think it is pure selfishness, really. What other possible explanation is there?

Inner rage and childish tantrums

How do you deal with inner rage? Rage from frustration, upset, feelings of inadequacy?
I wish I had a sensible, adult POP on this, because then I could follow my own sage advice.
Instead I behave like a child - still!
I throw things, lash out verbally and hit things, usually hurting myself physically. And I scream inside.
Then I feel even worse and depressed and useless.
I soon recover. Bounce back. Smile. Find a solution.
Now, if only I could do that BEFORE I get OTT.

Biorhythms - or actions?

Why is it that some days we feel low and others we feel high?
My Dad used to put it down to biorhythms. He swore by them. Acted on deals only when his rhythms were on the rise. Took a day off and went partying when at full peak. Rested at home when they were low.
It was a good excuse for his actions.
I prefer to think that my moods are caused by my actions.
I do something good, worthy or well and I feel high.
I do something I regret, badly or against my nature and I feel low.
I prefer to think that I am in control. Not that some biological cycle is controlling me.
What about you?

Mesmerised by the Moon

Last night I was driving home. A route I take almost every night. I drive, drop, drive, almost on auto pilot. Slowing for the cameras. Speeding up in between.
Last night something made me want to stop.
I drew over to a side lane where there was no traffic.
I parked and climbed out of my car and stood still in the cocooning silence.
The moon was almost full. My son and I had been gazing on it moments earlier, tracing the rabbit and the man resting thereon. It was a bright orb in an otherwise dark sky.
I listened. I heard a noise. I twitched. The noise came again. I shivered.
The night was humid and still. I could hear my heart beating.
I tasted the damp soil and sleeping leaves on the air.
I felt sad and yet happy. Restless and yet calm.
The bats were rustling and clicking in the foliage above me. It was time to head home.
My moment of reflection had brought me peace.

No regrets?

Why is it that we tell ourselves over and over again to "live each day as if it were your last." Or to "seize the day." Or that "life is too short to ..."
And yet, we never seem to be able to lift ourselves up and out of our routine, to do as we say?
Are we too scared? Too unadventurous? Too insecure?
Too complacent? Too lazy?
Or maybe, we are already living that way and, if we die tomorrow, will die with no regrets.
Which reply fits you?

True Friendship

Isn't true friendship a beautiful thing?
It is unconditional, timeless, non-judgmental, reliable, respectful.
You can have not met for years, and when you next do, pick up right where you left off, bridging the gap in moments. 
I believe that friendship such as this is to be treasured and appreciated, or, if not yet achieved, to be sought.
For you have to earn such friendship, returning the same joy that it gives you, unconditionally.

Doing Right.

"Always do right. This will gratify some people and astonish the rest." Mark Twain.

Seems obvious, doesn't it, to always do right. But how hard is it? I know that doing right is not always easy. Or right. And that, by doing right, you are doing wrong. Or that it ended by being wrong. While striving to always do right, do we want to astonish or gratify? And who are we aiming to impress or please? Is it doing right to be selfish or selfless? With so many quandries attached to doing right, it's no wonder we seldom achieve it.

Graciousness

Can you be taught how to be gracious? I'm not sure you can.
You can be taught manners, etiquette, to be polite, even, to some degree, how to be conscious of, and care for others. But I think grace comes from within. Or doesn't.
A society that is self-centred, mercenary and materialistic is not likely to become gracious.
Nor, I suggest, need it be, if it is successful.
Because fake, forced or self-serving grace is not gracious at all.

Daddy

Today would have been Daddy's birthday. In a few days, it is his death anniversary. Although he died 25 years ago, (does this make it his Silver death anniversary?) I miss him so much. So this post is to say "Hi, Daddy. I love you."
Not really a POP, I know. But I do agree with the many books, postings, songs etc. that say a daughter is closer to her father than to her mother. Amen to that.

Pity the Bitches

I saw an ad about puppy mills today. Surfing the website to find out more,
I became so sad. I had heard about them, of course, but never "peeped" inside one. The pictures on the site allowed me to do this.
And to think that there are some within cycling distance of my home. I want to go there and rescue all the poor bitches (and the sires, even though their lot is no where near as pathetic and heart wrenching).
Society is a victim of its own success - but in this case, the victims are the breeding bitches - and the runts who are left behind to replenish the cages when a poor soul expires.
I shall take a silent moment for them this weekend.

"You see, I've learned that just because you become a mom, it doesn't mean you're ever grown up enough to stop needing a mother of your own." Mother Nurture. From Chicken Soup for the Soul: New Moms By Katrina Rehme Hatch.

As my daughter would say - "now you are being emo."
But I feel I have to put down my Point of Prue on the closing line of a story I read - quoted above.
Have I really become so insensitive to myself that, as I read that, I refuted it immediately?

I don't feel grown up enough,ever, but I don't need a mother of my own and I haven't for the last 35 years.
I have survived many daunting tasks without feeling the need for one:
my father's death, separation, marriage into an alien culture and religion in a country far from home, the birth of two gorgeous people, my son and daughter, a women's cancer scare, a long career, job losses, searches and new starts, guiding two people through childhood into their teenage years to keep them happy, balanced and able  (my daughter would say I did this badly, of course, if anyone were to ask her), marriage issues, daily tasks of running a household, pet births, lives and deaths  .... the list goes on.

But then I wonder, if I had needed (or been able to have) a mother's love and guidance through my life this far, how different would it have been? Would I have made different choices, taken different paths, lead and guided some other way? Would I have done it better or worse? 

In the end, I am happy knowing I have done my best alone. Happy that I didn't feel that I needed a mother. Happy with my choices and actions.

Now ... if only I could feel grown up enough too.

Friendship

What is a good friend?
One who knows you need them, without you having to ask.
One who doesn't always contradict you.
One who supports your decisions. Helping you make the right ones.
One who tells you the truth, rather than what you want to hear.
One who can slip into your life seamlessly, whether you last met yesterday or years ago.
One who can laugh and cry with you ....
The list goes on.
Once you have found a good friend, you won't lose them.
But you must treasure them.

Kittens

I have always wondered what a collection of kittens is called - today I found out : a kendle or kindle of kittens.

Actually, a check with an authority on the subject of collective nouns reveals a few terms, beyond the obvious litter, and some for cats and wild cats too. Have a gander -

clowder	of	cats
clutter	of	cats
glaring	of	cats
pounce	of	cats
dout	of	cats (house cats)
nuisance	of	cats (house cats)
kendle	of	cats (kittens)
kindle	of	cats (kittens)
litter	of	cats (kittens)
destruction	of	cats (wild cats)

 I think they are so appropriate - a clutter of cats, a destruction of cats - wonderful terms. The only one I have issue with is 'a nuisance of cats'  - and for house cats at that! How can house cats possibly be a nuisance? Only if their human guardians are neglectful would they be a nuisance, imho.

Negative energy

I can't understand people who spend their energy on negative thoughts, comments, attitudes as a permanent way of conducting themselves.
Sure, we all have our down moments. Ying and yang; balance is necessary.
But why go through your day finding the negative in everything and everyone?
It drains you, it drains them. Always seeing the "glass half empty" as opposed to "half full" must be a drain on them and surely is for everyone they affect.
A colleague once told me to leave them be, not to take on their monkey. Sometimes that is easier to say than do. But I am learning how to deflect negativity and stay centred and upbeat, most of the time.
For as they say "smile and the whole world smiles with you."
Now, doesn't that feel better?
Have a happy day :)

Language lament

When did we allow new words to complicate our English language? When did "memorize" replace "learn" or "remember", "have a dialogue" replace "talk" and what does "normalize" mean?
Why did we allow it?
Is it that American-speak became cool? And if so, why are schools who use a British curriculum using such words in the classroom?
Call me archaic, but every time I see or hear these words, and there are many more than I cite here, I cringe.
I long for the time when English is simplified again.
Question is, will it ever be?

The Power of Thank You

Consider those two short words, and the power they hold.
Have you ever done something for someone, either spontaneously or upon request, only to receive no word of thanks? How did that make you feel? Used, taken for granted, pissed off? And yet, imagine how you would have felt if those two little words, thank and you,  had reached your ears. Elated, ready to help again, right?
Never forget their power. Use them always. Sincerely, of course. And you will be rewarded with thanks in return.
Thank you for reading.

Lying

Now I know that we all tell little white lies every now and then, and my Point of Prue on this is, that a little white lie, every now and then, is a good thing; but only when used judiciously. It can protect the innocent. It can boost a soul. It can prevent unpleasant incidents. It can be very useful.

However, I do have to say that lying is bad. There is no way out once you start. One lie leads to another. And that other leads to yet another. And very soon you are living in a totally unreal world and you have to be very, very, smart to remember what lies you have told and to whom, so that you can perpetuate them. And there is no way back.

It is better never to have told the first lie.

Nail Biting

I am a nail biter. My POP is that it is rather like being an alcoholic; although you may be “dry”, one little bite and way-hey, off you go again!

So I say, be always on your guard! That little snag in the nail, cut it off quickly, before the urge to tear at it, twiddle with it, bite it, chew it and roll it around your mouth, overcomes you. 

And there will be many snags as you come off nail-biting, because your nails are very weak from continuous biting and any little yank can snag it.

For parents of nail biters; yes, my son is a nail biter too; I recommend that you be patient. 

No amount of nagging, bitter “stop-biting” paint, hitting, slapping or privilege withdrawals will stop it.

The person doing it is the only one who can stop it.

You can help by trying to talk through their insecurities. 

(I put that in plural knowledgeably; it is never one problem, but an accumulation of many.) 

By being a listening ear without judging. 

I say try, as likely they are too shy or insecure to actually share what it is with you, or be able to identify it.

But patience, love and showing you care, will overcome it in the end. 

There will be relapses as challenges are faced; work through them.

And once you see nails; yes, that glorious white part that grows three-quarters of the way up the finger that is taken for granted by many people; HEAP on the praise, and keep it up so that the nasty, nervous habit is kept under control.

Bouncing Back

There is a saying that bad things happen in threes – three strikes and you are out.

Rejections, therefore, need to come in threes. 

The fourth is merely a new group of three.

And so on, until an acceptance arrives.

To bounce back continually requires total commitment to the belief that one’s cup is half full.

That good things happen to good people. Come to people who wait.

There are no end of morale boosting sayings to help bolster one’s mood.

My writing group asked me how do I handle rejections.

My Point of Prue is to take each rejection as a challenge, to do it better next time, to learn from it.

Be it a story, an articel, a job, a partner, an idea, my principle is the same; smile and the world will smile with me.

Eventually!

Divorce

I guess the time has come for me to lay down my Point of Prue on this subject. Timely cos there was an article in today's paper talking about the suffering a little child was going through with divorced parents. As my opinion is so far off this, I felt I had to share it.

Firstly, let me say that I disagree wholeheartedly with parents who resolve to “stay together” for the sake of the children. The children are not fooled; they know when their parents have stopped being a loving couple. They pick up on the hostile environment. They worry who they should side with, or who they should try to protect. They worry about things that kids should not have to worry about, just because they are, often, asked not to. And, in a violent environment, well that wrong scenario should be obvious to anyone. 

Yes, it will be painful for the kids once the divorce happens, but at least they are free from the trap that a loveless home has them in. Free to repair the damage of the heart, the soul and the senses. 

So set them free.

Secondly, I say that any woman staying in a home where there is no love is doing no service to herself. She may feel the martyr. She will eventually come to abhor that role. 

She may feel like a one-man show, running the household and the family. She will also come to resent that role. She must eventually sort for herself that, after the initial readjustment period, she will be a happier soul once set free.

Yes – I could be biased! But I am biased from seeing this from not just my own family, but many others too. Divorce is difficult. But denial is worse, all round.