Jenny Burrell

It’s been almost four years since I bought my Fitbit. It’s very basic and just gives me a step count and reports on how badly I’ve slept. I’ve not upgraded because the information he shares with me is ample for my requirements!

Fitbit complains when I don’t do some form of exercise every wakeful hour. He sends me rude messages when I’m sitting in a car or watching television. As I am writing this I have been told to feed him! A bit later he’ll get more explicit and tell me to get up and go for a walk!

A lot has changed in almost four years. That’s as long as I have been a lady of leisure! Yet my relationship with Fitbit has remained constant.My son linked him to my phone so he lets me know when I receive a text message. I can actually read the message on my arm! However, maybe if I rushed to find my phone I’d be getting steps!

Fitbit also rings to let me know that I am receiving a phone call. If I’m sitting in my office with my iPad, laptop and phone to hand, all four ring at the same time! The din is enough to waken the dead! And all I have to do is reach out and answer. Once more, no steps required! Own goal, Fitbit!

Initially I found him intimidating. Every day my main goal was to get ten thousand steps. If it rained or there was a reason why this couldn’t be achieved, the evenings would find me completing an indoor circuit around the house. This, alas, is a sad but true admission of the hold Fitbit has had on me!

My Yorkshireman husband would remind me to change my route so that I didn’t wear out the carpets! He also found this behaviour, even for me, over the top and regularly questioned my sanity! Running on the spot didn’t count. Fitbit wasn’t satisfied until I moved. Whether it be a slow shuffle or a run, it was immaterial.

And Fitbit can be mean. Very mean! On a number of occasions, just as I am about to retire to bed, his battery runs out. He uses a selective warning system. If it’s during the day, he’ll send me an email. While he’s getting recharged I can sit, uninhibited and guilt free! Steps can be made up and all is not lost! But, if it’s 11:00 o’clock at night and the step count shows 9,947, that is just downright cruel!

So, embarrassingly, I do appear to be ruled by a small black band on my arm. I don’t think I’m usually so gullible. Or is this the effect retirement can have on some people? Or maybe, as my husband has suggested, there is a deeper, more sinister reason? Therapy has been mentioned, but I’ve ignored that asinine comment!

I do really enjoy seeing the total steps I have walked every week. There is satisfaction in feeling the vibration on my arm when the daily ten thousand step count has been reached. That would mean that I have been active and burnt calories to counter my very healthy appetite! It’s good to get an idea of the hours I’ve slept. Or haven’t, which is usually the case! Anyway, that’s the reason why I take notice of Fitbit. It’s for my own good! Well, isn’t it?

Then I got covid and my energy levels plummeted! I felt constantly exhausted and apathetic! It was not good! And that was when my relationship with Fitbit changed forever! No matter how many messages he sent and the strange noises he made to attract my attention, there was nothing I could do to obey him! He would just have to learn to go without! The ignored messages on my arm became more insistent! Feed me, let’s go for a walk, easy peasy nice and easy, get up, let’s go! Messages I had never even seen before!

So, how did I feel when I ignored Fitbit? Slight panic at first because of my inactivity. My appetite had vanished. Just getting out of bed felt like a Herculaneum task! But, and this is the important bit, I stopped feeling intimidated! This was replaced by irritation and a constant reminder that I was doing nothing. Gaining confidence but also gaining weight!

I’ve survived covid and am sitting in the conservatory nursing a cup of tea. I get a message from Fitbit. I ignore him. I don’t even look at my arm. I feel empowered!

‘Starve, you greedy, useless machine’! I mutter beneath my breath. ‘Or why don’t you just go to sleep and never wake up’!

‘You’ve finally flipped’. I look up and see my husband staring at me. ‘I knew this would eventually happen. It was only a matter of time!’

With a flourish I release Fitbit’s strap and plonk him, unceremoniously, down on the table.

My husband finds this amusing. ‘And finally seen the light! Took you long enough!’

‘Watch it,’ I glare back at him. ‘Yes, I have seen the light and I’m on a roll. One down, one to go!’ 👠

After years of doing everything humanely possible to avoid catching covid, it tracked me down in Norway! Booking a cruise was always going to be a gamble! When we spoke to the travel agent early in February, everyone sailing needed proof of a negative PCR test. Unbeknown to us, this rule changed a month later. My husband and I printed copies of our vaccination status as backup but these weren’t needed either!

When we boarded the ship on a cold Monday evening, we discovered that were no open windows in any of the cabins despite showing photographs of balconies. All cabins were hermetically sealed. Deck six, the deck we were on, had the only external access around the ship but the doors shut as soon as you went outside. The dining area, lounges and bars were all indoors and temperature controlled. Comfortable and warm but a breeding ground for viruses!

The only precaution the staff insisted on was sanitising hands before meals. Breakfast and most lunches were self service. Coughing, sneezing and blowing of noses has a very short term effect on the efficacy of sanitised hands! No masks were required, or worn and everyone looked relaxed and filled with joie de vivre!

At the induction meeting we were asked to stay in our cabins if we felt unwell. As time progressed I heard more and more coughing. Initially I presumed these passengers were testing themselves so tried not to become too paranoid! Surely no one could have forgotten the serious and debilitating hardships experienced over the last couple of years? But there were people, not taking any precautions, clearly displaying symptoms of covid! Some were not looking very well at all!

We had booked a number of sight-seeing excursions which involved travelling in coaches. I was becoming more uncomfortable with these trips. My husband and I looked forward to seeing as much of Norway as we could. We hadn’t planned to spend every day on the ship! By the end of the second week, I cringed as I watched people coughing, most holding their hands to their mouths and then hanging onto chair handles for support! Paranoia was definitely setting in and the joy of these excursions were fading fast! When one was cancelled, due to bad weather, I breathed a sigh of relief and spent as much time on the outside deck as possible!

Last weekend, luckily back at home, my husband and I tested positive! Despite being fully vaccinated this virus has knocked us for a six! My energy levels have still not recovered. What has made me feel even worse is that I’ve had to miss the funeral of a dear friend.

There were a number of old and infirm people on the ship. Hopefully they have all survived! Covid is here to stay but everyone should continue taking precautions and show consideration for their fellow men! Sadly, too many just don’t care!👠

After only two hours sleep worrying that my alarm wouldn’t go off, we were at Manchester Airport in the early hours of Saturday morning. It was the first time we had been abroad for three years! We were going on a Norwegian cruise with a two night stay in Oslo. Luckily I hadn’t overslept and the taxi had arrived on time!

I had booked a lounge because my husband hates hanging around in airports! He morphs into a complete stranger and one I would never willingly choose to meet! However, the queue at the check in desk was so long that, if the plane hadn’t been delayed by an hour, we would have wasted the exorbitant cost of the lounge! That would have upset him even more!

Finally we arrived at Schipol airport in Amsterdam. There followed three wasted hours wandering around the airport. No lounge had been booked so, after visiting the duty free shops, we bought a bottle of water each and read our books. Half an hour before our plane was due to depart we found the gate number and set off. However, we were unaware that we had to once more go through security before boarding the plane! We were met with row upon row of people in a zig-zagged queue, eight columns deep! There was no way we would get to the plane on time!

I began to panic as I looked around, frantically trying to find someone to help. At the top of the queue I saw a man in uniform showing a family to another desk, away from the crowd. I rushed over and explained the situation. My husband was waiting some distance away, slightly bemused, probably wondering what I was doing! The gentleman looked at my boarding pass and shook his head. He told me to follow the family to the priority desk otherwise I would miss my flight. Shouting to my husband to join me, I set off. Finally, passports stamped, we made a beeline for the boarding gate, which happened to be at the other end of the airport!

Finally, after twelve hours since we had left home, only two of them in the air, we arrived in Oslo. There was no hold up at security because there wasn’t one! I can only presume that passport control for Norway was in Amsterdam before we boarded the plane! But we did have to wait another hour and a half outside a bus station to get to our hotel.

When we booked this holiday we were told that the transfer to the hotel would be by private taxi! I didn’t realise we’d have to drag our luggage a fair distance from the airport and queue for a bus! The original ship we were sailing on had been taken into dry dock. This meant that we’d have to board a sister ship and leave a day earlier. The direct flight from Manchester to Oslo wasn’t available on that day, hence the detour and long delay! Not ideal as we had waisted a whole day travelling!

After only one full day in Oslo we walked virtually non stop to see as much of this lovely city as we could. Early the next morning we boarded the train for a seven and a half hour journey to Bergen where the ship had berthed. The first three hours were quite tedious as all we saw were trees and buildings. Some lakes and ravines brought a little interest but nothing to write home about! However, the second half of the journey was spectacular!

We were passing through a winter wonderland!The scenery was picture postcard perfect! Little cabins, used mainly as holiday homes, brought colour and diversion, silhouetted against the brilliant white of their surroundings. A woman, a couple of seats behind us, introduced herself and gave us a history of the area. She was a proud Norwegian and willing to share her knowledge with interested tourists!

Collecting our luggage we made our way to the exit and saw a man holding up a placard with our name on! Delighted that we didn’t have to find a bus to the harbour we soon arrived at our ship. There were no queues so made our way up the gang plank to reception.

Our cabin, although smaller than I’d hoped, had a large window and a clear view out to sea. It was also a good distance from the middle of the ship where the engine noise was quite loud. We quickly unpacked then went onto the deck to watch the ship set sail. It was very cold as we left the harbour but I have packed layers and have a fleece, puffer and water proof jacket, thick socks and warm boots. I’m sure I’ll not freeze despite the forecast and warnings of snow and ice.

So, my earlier panic and apprehension lifted. I stood outside our cabin and breathed in deeply. The engines roared and the horn blared! We were finally on our way! 👠

I’ve been drifting a bit this year. I used to make a concerted effort to write a blog every week but covid put an end to that! News dried up, no holidays or outings allowed and the only face to face conversation I had for months was with my husband. I’ve now got into a rut and need to claw myself out of it! Bad habits die hard!

As all restrictions have now been lifted and virtually no one wears a mask in shops and restaurants anymore, I’m feeling a bit vulnerable. There is no reason other than the fear of catching covid. I’m not immuno-compromised and have had a booster vaccine so have done everything possible to protect myself. It’s now become a habit to wear a mask, keep my distance and sanitise my hands!

It is still recommended that we wear masks in crowded places but few take any notice. It has been decided by the ‘great and the good’ that covid has morphed into a slight cold at best and influenza at worst. The fact that hospitals are filling up again and there are still people dying doesn’t seem to bother anyone. The government have probably stopped ‘following the science’ and want to tackle the economy. It has taken a real battering over the last couple of years!

I do need to get out again so spent a few hours at the Outlet Village closest to us. Looking around it felt as if the clocks had gone back two years! Certain shops were very busy with no social distancing and hardly a mask in sight! I’m going on a Norwegian cruise at the end of this month and needed a few items of clothing. The choice was mine! I could either turn tail and run back to the car or bite the bullet and start shopping. I bit the bullet!

A few hours later I trundled back to the car, my hands full and feeling exhausted! I had used fitting rooms, gone into busy shops and enjoyed a delicious lemon and blueberry muffin with a cup of tea! That was until three people came in and started coughing! My meal was luckily coming to an end so I made a quick exit to breathe in some fresh air before I mingled once more!

I need to draw a line under the last couple of debilitating, unpleasant years. With spring very much in the air, beautiful blossoms on trees and shrubs, gardens filled with tulips, forget me nots, primroses and bluebells, the time has come to embrace life again!

A lot of people feel that we have wasted two years! It’s happened and we can’t turn back the clocks but we can make plans for the future and hope for the best. The war in Ukraine remains a huge concern. But I cannot sit at home and wait for others to decide my fate! Life really is too short! 👠

It’s the silence that accentuates this carnage. Men, arms and legs tied, bloated in death, assassinated in cold blood

It’s the sight of smouldering ruins. Burnt out shells of tanks, cars, armoured vehicles blocking the roads

I make my way into a residential area and pause. Looking around all I see is a confusion of rubble, smoke and dust

It’s the acrid smell of exploded gunpowder that permeates the air. It mingles with the ammonia stench of rotting flesh and nauseating diesel fumes

I cover my mouth and nose. The air, chokingly thick, burns my eyes and I begin to heave

Not all houses are completely destroyed. Some fronts are ripped away, rooms obscenely exposed, furniture strewn like matchsticks

It’s the feeling of utter despair. The futility of this senseless, mindless destruction of innocents

One man has created all this devastation. It took one person to have a vision and destroy a nation

I bend down and touch the dried earth. I pick up a bird’s nest, the embryo charred, grotesque in death

I miss the sound of birdsong. The roar of traffic heading home, the sounds of life

I miss the smell of a garden, my garden. Filled with lavender, roses, sweet honeysuckle, fresh air

How dare one man yield such power. Unstoppable evil, the devil incarnate, justifying this massacre

A small breeze disturbs the air. A broken wind chime hangs on a bent pole, clanging tunelessly

In the distance I hear tanks approaching. I try to find somewhere to hide, stumbling over a baby’s pram

I run into an empty shell of a house. Away from sight I crouch down and, with pounding heart, I wait

The tanks shatter the silence as they roar past. Heading onto another mission, like vampires, they smell blood

Finally, the silence returns. This strange, haunting silence of a town once vibrant and alive

I’m heading for the mass grave. That long train of newly dug black earth piled high, etched against a cloudless sky

There are no flowers left in gardens. Nothing to place a tiny piece of beauty onto this mound of senseless carnage

Apparently these invaders came as Nazi liberators! But this is genocide, mass destruction on a monumental scale

The West waits with baited breath. ‘No fly zones’, vetoed, no Polish planes allowed, just sanctions!

The rest of the world will suffer. As the breadbasket of Europe burns, so too will oil and gas pipelines run dry

I stand in front of this damp, dark earth. Hastily dug to bury hundreds of innocent women and children

Involuntarily I drop to my knees. Grabbing a handful of soil I watch as the grains trickle slowly through my fingers

Sobs begin to wrack my body. I’m so sorry, my tortured cries escape cracked, bleeding lips, you should have been safe here

I try not to imagine what lies beneath. I need to remember my wife and child as I left them, alive and well

That last day remains etched in my memory. I led the convoy of busses carrying our loved ones to this safe haven

We left them in the care of our kinsmen. Then husbands, sons and brothers went back to fight for freedom

A stray cloud covers the sun. Standing up I take one last look around the smouldering ruins of a once beloved city

With renewed impetus I’m back on the road. Darkness sets in and a full moon hangs motionless, leading the way

I’ll rejoin my regiment and soldier on I’ll fight for as long as it takes to regain our land and expel these inhuman oppressors

He will not win, he’ll never win! We’ll remain united, proud, steadfast and strong!

Ukraine will never surrender! 🇺🇦

Jennifer Burrell 2022 👠

It’s 5:00 pm and warm enough to sit in our conservatory this evening. And the sun is still shining! An added bonus! We’ve moved out of winter and into spring and it’s a wonderful feeling! Mild winters have their pros and cons! Flies and mosquitos, the banes of my life, have already surfaced due to the lack of a cold spell! Clocks have moved forward an hour thus bringing longer, lighter evenings. Definitely a plus!

Nature doesn’t change when the world struggles through a pandemic or countries are at war. It is our only constant! As day becomes night so too do the seasons move effortlessly from one to another. Global warming, climate change or just a natural cycle, is altering the earth’s temperature but winter still makes way for spring, plants begin to grow and animals wake from their long hibernation. Apparently summers will gradually become hotter and drier and winters warmer and wetter but the basic seasons will remain.

Leaving behind lockdowns and a covid pandemic, we seem to have moved immediately into the next disaster. If we are to believe the scientists, covid was man made, as is the Ukrainian war! Will our lives ever get back to any kind of normality? How I admire family members and friends who are pragmatists! They approach problems in a logical way and are realistic and practical in finding solutions. Like the seasons, pragmatists ‘just get on with it’!

My initial reaction is always to panic. If I prepare myself, then it will be a bonus if my worst case scenario doesn’t happen! During the pandemic I could at least have some control by staying at home, wearing a mask and continually washing my hands. With the war in Ukraine there is nothing any of us can do to change the outcome. So I fear the worst! According to Google I’m the opposite of a pragmatist! This makes me impractical, illogical and unrealistic!

The war in Ukraine, even though it’s seems far away, has brought another kind of dread. Having nuclear weapons was always a concern but now, more than ever, the possibility that they might be used is even greater! In my opinion, the reason for Russia going to war against Ukraine is baseless, illogical and pure evil. Putin is behaving irrationally and any hope of peace remains a long way away. While civilians are massacred, raped and brutalised, the western world looks on. Unfortunately the threat of nuclear weapons is a deterrent for NATO. No one in their right mind wants a Third World War!

The pragmatists in my family are convinced that Putin would never push the nuclear button because that would trigger retaliation. I think that Putin has lost touch with reality and am sure his advisers are too scared to let him know the truth. Rumours of ill health and psychosis have been enough to fuel my vivid imagination and keep me awake at night!

No one knows the outcome of this war. Crystal balls belong to the fantasists. Even pragmatists are struggling with ever-changing circumstances. They need facts not ‘what ifs’! I avidly watch the news and hope for the best outcome while expecting the worst! Sadly, we’ll just have to wait and see! 👠

I’ve been following the war in Ukraine and, like all rational and civilised people, am horrified! Watching bombs landing on civilians and hearing the number of casualties, is heartbreaking. There are now millions of displaced people, just like you and I, fleeing for their lives! It beggars belief! This is 2022 but we are back to those dark days of the 20th century when greed, megalomania and senseless wars blighted innocent people’s lives!

Every morning, while I have breakfast in my warm, cosy home, I see the destruction of many cities in Ukraine. I listen to interviews with people fleeing, some literally running away with only the clothes on their backs. I shed tears when I see men putting their families onto trains and waving them goodbye. They’re staying to fight for their country after ensuring the safety of their loved ones. Russia’s aggression is baseless and barbaric! There is no excuse, no logic behind these attempts to take over a peaceful, sovereign state.

Ukraine needs help. The rest of the world cannot sit back and watch this genocide unfold. But could this help lead to world war three? Is that the reason why the western world and NATO appears to be dragging their heels? Ukraine’s president, Volodymyr Zelenskyy, stands proud and strong, daily addressing his people and refusing to abandon his office in Kyiv! Such bravery and fortitude is humbling!

A definition of fortitude means that you have strength of mind to encounter danger or bear pain or adversity with great courage. The first time I came across this word was my husband’s ex boss telling me that my husband had such fortitude. That was ten years ago when our lives were turned upside down by a cancer diagnosis. Months of crippling chemotherapy had almost brought my husband to his knees. But he had soldiered on and that was when fortitude was accurately applied to him. He was doggedly determined that he was going to overcome cancer and get well.

Watching Mr Zelenskyy every morning, I see his courage and mental strength! This definitely shows that he has fortitude, and bucket loads of it! He encourages his people to stand together against the oppressor! He repeatedly asks the west for help, speaking to presidents of powerful countries all around the world. Ukraine wanted to join NATO, which is one of Putin’s weak, feeble excuses for starting this war. Mr Zelenskyy is showing the world, by his actions, that he is defiant, brave, desperate yet stoically determined to get his country back from the brink of Russian oppression! He refuses to run and hide but remains visible and approachable!

So, as NATO and presidents of powerful nations hold umpteen meetings, convoys of Russian military equipment edges ever closer to Kyiv. It’s also down to members of the public to rally together and do what we can to help this catastrophe threatening stability and peace across Europe and the entire western world. Sanctions are beginning to bite but will be affecting us all. Maybe this is going to be the price we’ll have to pay for Ukraine’s freedom? Let’s hope it’s going to work! 🙏 🇺🇦

I am scared of ghosts! To date (and long may this last!) I have never seen one! But I hold a very real, irrational fear which stems from my early childhood days!

I was fortunate to have both my maternal grandmother and great grandmother (we called her ‘Ouma’, Afrikaans for old mother) throughout my childhood and teenage years. Ouma died when I was twenty and expecting my first child. We just missed five generations!

Much as I felt very lucky to have these two special people in my life, unfortunately they were both avid believers in the spirit world. I found their sightings and stories of ghosts and strange occurrences fascinating but very frightening. My vivid imagination always worked overtime when it got dark and that was when their supernatural revelations would come back to ‘haunt’ me!

I would awaken after a vivid dream and call out to my mother. It was the usual ‘Mommy, I’m scared’! I’d hear her wake my father. I’d take his place in their bed and he would sleep in mine. We’d pass like two ships in the night, just a grunt from my father as he stumbled past and an acknowledgement from my mother. Sometimes I’d tearfully tell her that I’d dreamt of ghosts in my room and she would always say the same ‘ there are no such things as ghosts’!

Ouma lived with her spinster daughter in a small, very old house attached to a larger one. The sitting room comprised of a long dining room table with high backed chairs, some pushed against the wall. Black blinds were drawn as soon as sunlight began to shine through the large sash window. This kept the room cool and prevented the family photographs lining the walls from fading.

As I got older and didn’t see any ghosts, my fears began to subside. If I heard sounds in the night I’d put my sheet over my head to cover my face, just leaving my nose out to breathe!

One specific photograph, in a large oval frame, always fascinated me. I was told that the little girl was called Alice, Ouma’s daughter, who had died when she was about five years old. One day Ouma told me Alice’s story and my fear of ghosts returned.

Ouma was born around 1880 and lived through the Anglo Boer wars. Alice would have been born in the early 1900’s. She was a beautiful, healthy, happy child and much loved by all. When she was five years old she died of a fever which could have been measles, scarlet fever, I’m not sure. Ouma was heartbroken and distraught. She told me that she cried for a long time and sometimes felt so sad that she couldn’t get out of bed!

One night, while Ouma was on her own, she was sitting in bed, trying to read her bible through her tears. Suddenly she felt as if someone was with her in the room. She looked up and saw Alice standing at the end of the bed holding an unlit candle. Mesmerised, Ouma just stared at her, not saying a word. She watched as Alice walked towards her, not taking her eyes off her mother.

‘Mamma, please stop crying,’ Alice whispered quietly, ‘your tears are putting my candle out. I can’t see where I’m going’. Please Mamma, I need to light my candle’.

Ouma took her handkerchief out of her pocket and blew her nose. ‘I can still see her now,’ she shook her head. ‘She was so small. I wanted to reach out and touch her but she moved away, her little face staring up at me.’ I watched as a small flame appeared and her candle began to glow.’

Ouma stood up. ‘From that day to this I have tried not to shed tears for Alice but just carry the pain in my heart. I had to get back to looking after my family and working on the farm. My grief has never left me. I have just learnt to live with it. Ouma could not have made this story up! When I told my mother she said that the family had all heard about Alice.

I don’t believe in seances or simply trying to call up the dead for whatever reason. My brother, a vicar, has exorcised homes and believes that there are good and evil spirits. There are good and evil people so that would make sense! But, long may it continue that I never encounter ghosts! Good or evil! 👠

I’ve mentioned in previous blogs that I’m not generally a relaxed, carefree person. I cannot remember a time when I wasn’t worried about something! My memories of childhood go back to when I was about four years old. Even then this memory is one of being anxious and unhappy!

Yet, within the same families, siblings can differ dramatically! A lot of literature I’ve read through the years has highlighted the ‘eldest child syndrome’. They are often more highly strung than their siblings and I have verified this hypothesis on a number of occasions.

Stress has its uses. ‘Fight or flight’ was effective and a necessity during the ‘hunter, gatherer’ age when having to escape from vicious sabre-toothed tigers or other wild animals was a matter of life or death! It is still relevant today, but not continuously and at perpetually high levels.

It is well known that too much stress is detrimental to both mind and body. It has also been linked to all six major causes of death in the Western world, cancer, heart and liver disease, accidents, lung disease and suicide. Throw in a diminished immune system and digestive problems, deteriorating cognitive performance and mental health issues, the World Health Organisation has named stress as the ‘epidemic of the twenty first century’!

So, knowing the damage stress is doing to my body, and has done over many years, why aren’t I actively doing something about it? Surely there must be some way to channel this stress into something positive? Or am I being too simplistic? Or, even worse, giving up and just living with it? Sounds defeatist but a habit honed over decades and an integral part of my life would take a huge amount of shifting!

I have read many articles on the subject and taken some of the advice and ideas offered by specialists in this field. This was through a fear of the damage I was inflicting on my body rather than the desire to find a cure! Sadly, worrying for me is so normal that I’d be lost without it!

Stress does appear to have a Jekyll and Hyde nature. For years I have been warned against all the bad side effects. Lately, I’ve been most surprised to read a growing number of articles showing a positive side! All I have to do is change from a negative mindset to a positive one and I can ‘turn my life around’! The true nature of stress is very complex and by dwelling on its negativity I am apparently feeding those thoughts into my brain, causing physical and mental damage!

If I had a positive mindset I would be aware of the unpleasantness of stress but I would use it to my advantage and get things done instead of just worrying about them! And not worry about things I cannot change or which might never happen! Apparently I would be more open to negative feedback and thus more willing to question and change my thoughts and attitudes. That would make me more proactive in times of trouble and focussed on getting a solution instead of dwelling on the ‘what ifs’. It’s as easy as that!

But there’s the rub! Because my temperament is anxious, an inveterate worrier and highly sensitive, I could never achieve this dramatic character reversal on my own. Even those of us who are predisposed to being ‘highly strung’, it’s invariably learned through life’s experiences and not something we were born with. Can I, at this advanced age, really retrain my brain to change from negative to positive?

The first seven years of childhood are the most informative. Most parents do their best to nurture and protect their young children but cannot always keep them wrapped up in cottonwool. Things happen at school, when they visit friends and family and even in loving homes that affect children in different ways. That’s why siblings with the same gene pool often have such different personalities.

I have finally decided the time has come to improve my quality of life. The knock on ‘positive’ effect should also be felt by my family and close friends. I don’t want to fundamentally change who I am, I just want to learn how to keep hold of the good times instead of hanging on to the sadness. To always be worrying about something is not normal!

I really want to start this next phase of my life to be open to change. I know I can’t do this on my own but help and advice is out there! England is slowly moving out of the pandemic and taking some tentative steps back to normality. It’s being a long two years with many different kinds of casualties. Post Covid we’ll all have to brace ourselves as we enter this ‘Brave New World’!

I’m up for the challenge. I need to shake off the old and embrace the new! I have nothing to lose!👠

I was speaking to my son the other evening. He lives in Boston in the US and they had had two feet of slow over the last forty eight hours! Once he had cleared their driveway the roads were already snow free and life returned to normal. School busses were running and my grandson, who has just passed his driving test, was able to drive to school. Massachusetts is geared up for winter and heavy snow showers seldom prevent people from going to work or children to school. Unlike here ……. A centimetre of snow can bring traffic grinding to a halt!

After my son showed me their snow covered garden and the driveway which had taken him many hours to clear, we moved on to the summer and the hope for the end to covid restrictions! I mentioned that we were hoping to see them sometime in the autumn. My son reminded me of our enjoyable hiking expeditions we’ve shared with him over the years.

He loves New Hampshire and the White Mountains. This rugged mountain range, part of the Appalachian Mountains, covers about a quarter of New Hampshire and a small port of Maine. They are called the White Mountains because of all the birch trees. We have walked along a few of these hiking tracks and thoroughly enjoyed the wonderful scenery and the quality time spent together. My son has been back hiking on his own. He calls this part of America his ‘happy place’ and asked if I have one.

There was no spontaneous reply. There are countries I have visited which have taken my breath away but I couldn’t think of anywhere specific that I could call a ‘happy place’ and want to revisit, over and over again. This surprised me so I began trawling through our many holidays and places I had seen.

Many years ago, before the Indian Ocean tsunami of 2004 that devastated parts of the coasts of several countries in South and South East Asia, we visited the Maldives. The first week was spent on a boat sailing around the little atolls. The weather was perfect and some of the tiny islands weren’t even inhabited. The ship would dock in the deep water and little motor boats, called ‘dhonis’, would take us to the islands. We’d climb out onto the warm golden sand and marvel at the brilliant, azure blue waters of the Indian Ocean, sparkling in the glorious sunshine.

One specific memory springs to mind. The majority of the passengers would find a place on the beach and lay out their towels. Suntan lotion would be liberally applied and they would spend the next few hours baking their bodies to a crisp! My husband and I used to circumnavigate each island before settling down to read a book or swim in the glorious clear, warm azure waters.

On our last island hop our exploration into the heart of the little atoll brings back very vivid memories. Chatting to each other as we wondered through the palm trees, a huge creature suddenly swooped down, just above us, and landed in a nearby tree. I was in such shock that I couldn’t scream, much less move! Finally, when my heart rate returned to normal, we ventured towards the palm tree and looked up. We spotted the creature hanging upside down, wings folded tightly against its brown hairy body, not moving.

We later discovered that the frightening creature was a fruit bat, or flying fox, with a potential wingspan of 1.5 metres. It flew with its head down, almost within touching distance of us and certainly wouldn’t have won any beauty prizes! They are crucial for managing the fragile eco system of the 1200 small atolls, relatively isolated from each other. These bats spread seeds through their droppings and help with pollination. Fascinating and harmless if we had only been warned!

We headed back to the beach and dragged our plastic recliners to the water’s edge, just far enough to feel the lovely cool water washing over our feet and legs. After our sojourn into the heart if the island and subsequent adventure, I felt hot and clammy. Slowly, I began to relax. Closing my eyes I revelled in the peace and utter tranquility of our beautiful surroundings.

Turning to my husband I mentioned how wonderful it would be if the waiter brought us two ice cold beers! We both agreed that it would the cherry on the top of this fantastic week! A couple of minutes later I felt rather than saw a shadow briefly block out the sun. Startled, I opened my eyes. And there he was! Our waiter holding a tray with one hand and a tea towel draped neatly over his other arm. Two beers, condensation dripping from their bottles, sparkling in the early afternoon sun! I can still visualise the scene and my amazement that my wish had been granted! Two shocks in the matter of an hour! That was the best beer I have ever tasted!

I can still see that beach and remember the vibrant hues of the sea, water and sand. I haven’t forgotten my amazement as I looked into the clear water and watched small brightly coloured shoals of fish darting around our loungers. Stingrays and baby sharks, all completely harmless, came to investigate. It was definitely a little piece of heaven here on earth and would have become my happy place if I lived there!

But I live in Cheshire in England. It’s winter and cold. Currently my happy place is sitting in front of a roaring fire mesmerised by the flames, warm and cosy. I listen to the wind howling outside and the rain beating against the windows. I’ll go with this as my happy place. For now. For tonight. Who know what tomorrow might bring? 👠