We were joined at the belly button.

Here is the blog that I was asked to re-blog.

No I'm not black but I was born in Africa.

My husband is my soul mate.

I’ve just read a blog that started off with, “My husband is not my soul mate.” This is so sad!

What does soul mate mean? My soul’s mate? My mate’s soul? My husband’s mates with my soul? My husband’s soul is my mate.

Let’s stop there and think about the true or Historic meaning.

In Greek mythology, the androgynous humans, born with both male and female genitalia were said to have threatened the Gods superiority. As a result, Zeus – yes the same God who destroyed the Titans with lightening – decided it was not a good idea to keep humans this way.

He couldn’t kill them as they gave offerings to the Gods, so he split them in half.

This made the humans very sad, and in no mood to give any offerings at all!
Apollo, then sewed two parts together, but this…

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What a sad Christmas this will be. No, not for the reasons you may think. What do I give my grand children for Christmas when all they want is small little games games games for their iPods?

Christmas Pile of excitement.

Don’t get me wrong, I don’t mind buying what ever they want because it’s important that they be happy . And, we live in a technological world. My five grandchildren deserve what they want. But will they be able to understand that they will not find bright colourful presents under the tree when they come rushing down stairs?

And this is not just Granny bragging. Between the ages of 4 to 10 years old they are all very well behaved and loving children. Granny’s pride and joy and they all have very set ideas of what they want from Father Christmas.

Christmas A time for Children.
It’s me that is going to have a sad Christmas.

What is the most exciting thing about Christmas day? The food….always yummy. The company. Oh yes, Christmas always brings the best out of the adults as we sit and watch the children, their little faces flushed with excitement, giggling waiting patiently for the go ahead to start the onslaught on the huge pile of accumulated presents stacked under the Christmas tree. I would say it’s definitely the variety of shapes and sizes of the presents waiting under the brightly lite Tree.

The children will always say the presents. It’s what makes the day so memorable. It’s hard to say, but the younger boys, might rather enjoy the ripping open of the parcels opposed to opening the toy box!

And the tidying up, putting all the discarded paper and boxes in the big black dustbin bag. Eventually the children settle down…well quieten down a little, and enjoy the day filled with further excitement as the get down to play with their toys.

So what’s so sad about that Granny?

This year there will be no big piles of brightly patterned, Christmas paper strewn across the sitting room floor. No sound of ripping or gasps of excitement. No shouts of glee or little faces showing off their gifts to their cousins.

In June of this year, both my daughters sold boxes of unopened and un- played with toys on e-bay. Children of today are not interested in the traditional toys of the season. I hate to think how the toy shops selling for 5 to 10 year olds are going to fare.

No, this year all the children want are games games games. Tiny games for their iPods. And we all know how tiny games are. No more big presents under the Christmas tree this year or for that matter, future Christmas days.

Yes, Granny is going to have a very sad Christmas this year!

Do you think I’m being unreasonable?

On a lighter note.

Off to explore ….more of the UK.

Most of you know that having lived in the UK for only 10 years, I have many places still to see. So once again my hubby and I set off for a couple of nights in bed & breakfast hotels.

Originally we were going to take our bikes with us. But, the weather was not in our favour.

Our first stop was Lincoln Cathedral. The finest Gothic Cathedral in Europe. I could simply copy and paste the brochure but I would rather tell you in my own few words.
Lincoln Cathedral
The outside walls Across the entrance we saw the beautiful, intricate Gothic carvings. All of which told a story, both serious and funny like a cat and mouse! The stone masons certainly had fun with their work, ( you can look them up).


Once inside, again everywhere you looked the Gothic style carvings looked down on us.

As we entered the main door my first impression was of large, beautiful, clear and bright stained glass windows. The biggest variety of colour I have seen in any cathedral.





Unfortunately, we were unable to visit the castle. The West and South wing were under renovation. They still wanted to charge us full price. How rude!

We then went on to Skegness and stayed the night in a B&B on the beach front. All very comfortable but, the bingo hall was a bit too close, noisy and monotonous. I thought it would never close. Why they think the entire beach front need to hear about the two fat ladies and all the numbers descriptions, I don’t know.

Louth was our next stop. A quaint village in the Lincolnshire wolds. It was market day, a very festive occasion, with stalls selling – well everything. We walked on to find the 295-ft spire, the finest, late gothic steeple in England, and learnt that in 1844, lightning struck it down.

The 295ft spire of St. James Church in Louth.
We then moved on to our last stop a B&B in Chapel St Leonard. Now this was a B&B to top them all. I only wish I took photos. The decor was out of this world, plush, comfortable, simply beautiful. But, what really blew my mind, was the vine orchard growing inside the dinning room. Beautiful sweet, no insects, just juicy grapes ripe for the picking.

The next morning after another full English breakfast, we made our way home to finish the next couple days of our holiday, relaxing.

All about the weight – again!

It’s the weight thing again.


For the last ten years – a life time, I have worried and stressed about my weight. I’m on the border of being obese.

I love the hat. Not very safe.

I love the hat. Not very safe.

So, “what have I done about it” you ask.

Weight Watchers cost the earth. My daughter – Michelle – and I started together. Over the same period Michelle lost two stones. Me? I lost two pounds. You might say that’s just not good enough, and I agree, it’s not. pulling on hair smallIt was a waste of money for me. I stuck to the meal plan like glue and my husband only bought shopping I could eat.

Fish chops & mushy peas.

u Fish chops & mushy peas.

But, not to give up, I then joined an on-line diet club, counted calories, down loaded notes, followed any advice from the forum and recorded my daily meals. And still, I lost only 2 pounds, put on 4 and lost 2.. My weight graph zigzagged across the page. Today, I weight the same. Sounds like I’m on a maintenance diet. It’s like going on a journey with a map, but ending up where you started. Frustrating!

I then joined The NHS health on line –


One piece of advice was to stop stressing about my weight as the stress alone can hamper one’s weight lost.
I stopped all dieting. I stopped recording my meals and weight. I stopped thinking and worrying about my weight. It took a while to train my brain to think of other things in life. I opened a blog and spent many, many hours creating it. And I lost 5lbs! I was over the moon.
I carried on reading all the interesting facts on the site. The suggestion, advice and general enquiries. It was all there.

I have recently been diagnosed with GORD (Gastro-Oesophageal Reflux Disease). It’s not a serious disease. In fact quite common, but I have it. And now I have made up my mind to hide my scales and concentrate on my new life – I have to change my diet, stop eating certain vegetables, cut out coffee, cut out artificial sweetness and no white bread only wholemeal bread. The list goes on. It is a life changing challenge.
Bye bye coffee!
I also read up on the blood diet and some of the suggestions for my blood type, support what is helpful in keeping my GORD at bay!

All my favourite foods.

All my favourite foods.

What I’m hoping is that by cutting out foods that re-activate my GORD will help me lose weight….and so we will see.

No stress.

We were joined at the belly button.

My husband is my soul mate.

I’ve just read a blog that started off with, “My husband is not my soul mate.” This is so sad!

What does soul mate mean? My soul’s mate? My mate’s soul? My husband’s mates with my soul? My husband’s soul is my mate.

Let’s stop there and think about the true or Historic meaning.

In Greek mythology, the androgynous humans, born with both male and female genitalia were said to have threatened the Gods superiority. As a result, Zeus – yes the same God who destroyed the Titans with lightening – decided it was not a good idea to keep humans this way.

We were joined.

We were joined.

He couldn’t kill them as they gave offerings to the Gods, so he split them in half.

They split us in two.

They split us in two.

This made the humans very sad, and in no mood to give any offerings at all!
Apollo, then sewed two parts together, but this time each human only had one genitalia. The belly button being the only remaining proof of their original form.

The humans were still sad.
The humans were still sad as they longed for their original half and it was only in death would their souls be reunited and they would finally be ‘ soul mates.’

We all associate the phrase “soul mate” with love, destiny or any description used to describe long-term commitment. And, my thoughts on the matter is that, you can only know if someone is your soul mate if you have lived, slept, eaten, been happy, been sad, the list is endless, for a life time.

I have been married to my soul mate for 38 years and, I am sure that at one time we must have shared a belly button.

I need a new bicycle saddle.

♫♫ Oh what a beautifully morning, oh what a beautiful day, I have a beautiful feeling
♫ everything’s going my ………..
Today we went on a bike ride. I packed our water bottles, oranges and apples. The sun was shining and it was a beautiful day. Just like the song.
Not happy to take the easy way and ride on the tarred road, Don, my best friend, and hubby of 38 years headed onto a foot path – a country shortcut. Just imagine the scene. In England we have had the most beautiful weather and so the sudden growth of weeds is beyond belief. So thick was the growth, at places one couldn’t really see the foot path and lurking behind the thick undergrowth what lay in wait? … dreaded stinging nettles (U. dioica); hundreds of them. And I mean huge thick bushes just at ankle to knee height waiting to scratch any bare ankles of any unsuspecting idiot stupid enough ride through them. Ouch ouch!
The path was obliterated by overgrowth, I was busy trying to avoid going into the ditch while keeping a beady eye open for any doggie poop left by some considerate dog walker and then, the nettles attack The initial pain: the terrible itch: the desire to scratch your skin off! I fell off my bike, into the bush and just managing to miss both nettles and fresh doggie poop. (See? There’s still luck – even in misfortune) However, I was laughing so much – I have no idea why. And where was Don? Yards ahead watching me and holding the ready picked dock leaf – nature’s immediate remedy. Such a gentleman.

Happily we then proceeded along the road. Slow gentle ride, the sun on my face, slight breeze through my hair not a care in the World. And then it starts. Sore bum! My bike is only two years old and living in the UK I’ve only ridden a few times but the saddle is terrible uncomfortable, actually it’s crap and far too small for my bottom. On second thoughts, perhaps there is no luck in misfortune after all!

I’m not going to elaborate at this time but suffice to say the day did not go entirely
♫ ♪ …..my way


More on Mandela

I can’t believe what his family are up to now. Bearing in mind I only get my facts from the press, and how often they print a lot of poppycock, I do believe what they wrote today.
Mandela’s family are negotiating a deal with CNN for the rights of his death, funeral coverage.
Does this mean South Africa, the country this great man suffered for, fought for and loved, would not have any rights to his passing?

It looks to me, that his family are now trying to get the last bit of – I don’t want to say money. His children are prolonging his death while preparing the best deal to grab as many benefits from his passing they can.



This is not political just my own humble opinion.

I lived in SA for 30 years, Rhodesia, Zambia before that.

I’m not surprised that Madiba can not die in peace. He was a saviour in the eyes of his people. But, unfortunately that is what is happening at the moment.

Saviour to his people.

Saviour to his people.

He has done all he could do for his people. Madiba sacrificed years of his life for his family and now they fight over where to bury him. He had already decided where he wanted to be buried, but they will not honour his wish. Why?
The doctors have said let him go in peace. PEACE his very own mantra.

What his family are doing is criminal. The church, the doctors and the government want this great hero given the honour and respect he greatly deserves. Let him go peacefully to his maker.

His maker has waited for weeks now. Don’t dishonour him any longer.

Evening at the zoo

I lived in Africa until I was forty seven. In my early years my late father was a game hunter. When I grew up and had my own children we all loved holidaying in the Kruger National Game Park. I biggest in Africa. We drove through the park at our leisure and saw wild animals roaming free. Free as nature intended. We were nearly attacked by a mother elephant, accosted by an ostrich and had our car sided by a white rhinoceros. In all the years we visited the Kruger National Park, we still never saw it all. We then came to UK and did not want to visit a zoo. So never did. Until yesterday. What a truly surprising evening at Banham Zoo. Surprising because, although the animals weren’t free, they were not enclosed in tiny, unkempt enclosures,but in beautiful clean, interesting surroundings. The interesting thing, is the care taken to keep the animals comfortable and occupied with interesting toys and imaginative ways of presenting the animals food.

I which my carrots looked that yummy.

I which my carrots looked that yummy.

It’s not a small park, we spent four wonderful hours walking looking and appreciating all the hard work and dedication that goes into caring for the animals.

Be careful of the crocodile.

Be careful of the crocodile.

IMG_00000452 It’s worth a visit

This lion was allowed to roam free.

This lion was allowed to roam free.

IMG_00000425 IMG_00000426

Another ouch.

Back to yoga for the first time in three months. I’m so unfit and ache all over. 

I do enjoy my yoga but sometimes the thought of putting myself through an hour of twisting and turning not to mention the balancing. I have no balance so I have to do the posture quickly to avoiding falling over. I’m worried that if I do fall, I may not get up.

 But that’s because I’m so unfit.

Not now Doodles!

Not now Doodles!

Once I’m at my fittest, i just know I’ll enjoy it again.  and that is providing I have plenty radox in my bath. I’ve done yoga for close on twenty years, and I still ache two days later.

From fungallery.com

From fungallery.com

I could always through in the towel and take up some other form of exercise. I have a cross trainer in the front room. No that is a waste of money. I do enjoy riding my bicycle, but the weather is not always kind to me. I can’t walk – i have wonky knees. I guess it will just have to be yoga.