'SCALEY BRAT'

I am a 'Scaley Brat'  and very proud of it.


I was born into an RAF family in 1959.  First child for Bill and Kathleen, joined by a sister three and half years later.  My memories are good memories, but maybe as we get older all our childhood memories are good memories?  Somehow, I don't think that's the case. 


I was a 'Scaley Brat' (Scale-E brat).   Scale-E was the pay scale reached when a serving member had children.  Although the term Scaley Brat seems very derogatory, it actually served as a form of identity.  You knew that the majority of children you met were all Scaley Brats and therefore, instantly there was a unique bond.  The term has now mainly disappeared from the language of service children as the SCALE-E band was phased out.  History lesson over.


My first real memory is my sister being born.  After three years of being the only child, I was to be joined by another.  Was I jealous?  I suppose I may have been, I really don't remember.  At the time we lived in Eindhoven, my first time abroad.  


Life for service children is as hard today as it was when I was growing up.  Dad posted away and leaving the family at home.  The first time my dad went away we had to move to Warton in the North West of England, now home to BAE.  I was five years old.  A very important time in every child's life and my dad had been sent on an unaccompanied posting to Aden.  It was the time I was to enter the school system for the first time and I remember feeling a part of me was missing, i.e. my dad.  I have no memories of time at that school, I remember my address and also the lollipop man!  He used to teach all the children crossing with him the nursery rhyme 'I'm a little tea pot'.  Living at Warton we were near my maternal grandparents who lived in Preston, a bus ride away.  We were also near Lytham and Blackpool.  I remember going to Lytham and paddling in the outdoor pool with a huge blow up blue seal called Sammy, (bought from that famous company Tupperware).  Seeing the Blackpool illuminations in the back of my grandad's car.  Years later, when I moved to Lancashire, I took my children to Lytham on a personal trip down memory lane, and there was the outdoor children's pool!  Seeing it again, stirred all those happy memories of Sammy and I paddling around, an innocent time, a fun time, but also a lonely time.  To this day I have all the letters my dad sent me whilst he was away and reading them evokes tearful memories.


My greatest memory is our posting to Cyprus.  I had never heard of it.  Didn't even know where it was.  I was nine years old when we started our three year tour of this beautiful Mediterranean island.  Arriving in Cyprus we stayed in a hotel until we were allocated a married quarter or hiring.  We lived off base in a hiring in Limassol, mixing with the local community, making friends picking up their customs.  My first school in Cyprus was Berengaria Junior.  Even today I remember my teachers names.  After sitting the eleven plus exam, I went up to St. Johns secondary school.  Both schools were a bus ride away.  School started early and finished early.  After a siesta, the rest of the day was ours to with what we wanted.  


My sister and I had a paddling pool in the garden and played for hours in the shade of the afternoon sun.  Dad would hire a car from Georges in Limassol and we would take to the road to explore the island.  All those places that you see in the glossy tour brochures today, we visited before they became tourist attractions.  Going into the Troudos mountains and building a snowman beside the road and then driving home and having a bar-b-que.  In an hour, two temperature zones amazed us as children.  Swimming in a sea that was crystal clear.  Being shocked by one of our neighbours, a Greek, who stood on his veranda shooting sparrows.  So many memories.  


We left Cyprus and returned to the UK, and we were posted to Stafford.  There I finished my education and at 18 joined the working population.  It was while we were at Stafford that my dad was posted overseas again, this time to Salalah in the Persian Gulf.  Even though I was older, it still hurt when dad went away.  I am definitely a 'daddies girl' and missed having him around.  


I find that children of service personnel grow up really fast.  We moved on average every three years.  Friends were people you were at school with and then you or they moved on.  No real home roots as such, and having to grow up fast.  Learning how to adapt to new situations, people, schools can make for a very lonely life.  Looking back on my childhood, I have no friends from my time growing up as a Scaley Brat, but I do have fantastic memories.
    

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SSsshhhh.  Roxy Sleeps.

DOG - Noun, animal.  Definition - a common animal with four legs, especially kept by people as a pet or to hunt or guard things.

Let me introduce you to our family pet.  An eight year old Jack Russell called Roxy.  If asked to describe her, I would say very loving, faithful, fickle, loyal, playful, knows her own mind, rules the house, dependable, fussy, and most of all, very female.  In fact we call her a 'HUMOG' (cross between human and dog).

As a family we have always had a dog.  Our first one was a Golden Labrador, joined soon by a Husky cross, then came our little Skye Terrier and finally Roxy.  Roxy came into our family eight years ago.  A small bundle of fun that could sit in the palm of your hand.  The runt of the litter and the only one with spots on her body instead of patches.  It was love at first sight when we saw her with her mum, dad and siblings.

Being so small, she enjoyed numerous cuddles.  Jack Russell's are known to be snappy dogs and the one thing I didn't want was that.  I was determined that our little girl was going to be the opposite.  Some would say daft as a brush.  I would say really loving.  A Jack Russell is one of the hardest breeds to train, they have the shortest memory span and know their own mind.  Roxy definitely knows hers.  She runs the household with canine efficiency.  We all dance to her tune.  She loves to sit on your knee and fall asleep, sit at the front window watching the world go by, sleep on the bed as well as in the bed, is not particularly impressed with any dog food presented to her, very fussy, yet loves fresh chicken and Tuna fish, and if you mention the words 'walk' or 'lead' she's at the back door in a flash. 

Currently, Roxy is feeling broody.  She has never had a litter, mainly because we never wanted her to and secondly because she frightened of other dogs.  Seriously, she's petrified.  When we are out with her, if a dog approaches, you should see her run.  Back to us, a leap into your arms and she shakes like a leaf.  Anyway, back to Roxy being broody.  It happens on average three times or so a year.  She'll wake up and then go searching for her red, rubber dinosaur.  That is her favourite 'baby'.  Next is a plastic hot dog toy, and finally a red rubber duck.  Once these are together it's time to make a nest for them all.  It's usually on Vicky's bed, all wrapped up in her fluffy dressing gown and God help you if you go to move them or even touch them.

This time round she has been moaning and barking at 'her babies'.  When they really annoy her, she will throw them put of the nest in disgust.  Today, she stood at the top of the stairs with Dino, the red dinosaur, and threw it down the stairs.  Wonder what it did to warrant that punishment?  She brought it into where we were sitting an dropped him on the floor.  Up she jumped onto my knee and straight onto the dining table.  From here she can see out of the window and also have a cuddle with me.  

Training a Jack Russell is hard work.  Training OUR Jack Russell was virtually impossible.  She has a mind of her own and if she doesn't want to do it, not even chocolate will get her interested.  Our youngest son, Hazen, tried teaching her a few tricks and then gave up, deciding playing and tormenting her was more fun.  He still does it now, when he comes home.  To anyone who has a dog, they will know the welcome you get when you come home.  No matter what sort of day you've had, it's all forgotten when your dog rushes to greet you.  They are full of unconditional love and give it without question.  Roxy does just that with us.  I have sat with her and told her things that I would never tell another person, cried into her neck, reached for her when I have felt there was no-one else and held her close when I have felt so alone and wondered what I'm doing on this earth.  She knows when you feel like the world is spinning too fast and slows it all down.  How?  I don't know.  She shares her love between us and our friends.  

What would I do without Roxy?  The honest answer is I don't know.  She makes me laugh on a daily basis, she loves me unconditionally and never asks for anything in return, she annoys me sometimes and gets under my feet, she knows when to leave me alone and also when I need someone, she is my sanity in my depressed world.  She is definitely 'mum's dog', but for the time being, Dino, Hot dog and the duck are her priority and sleeping on Vicky's bed is infinitely better that sitting here with me. xx

Found it!

I found it!  Yippee!

Under a pile of crafting stash on my desk, there it was.  Hiding.  I was looking for something else and there, lurking with intent, waiting to be released from the hell it had found itself in was ........ my list!!

I'd decided to make one the other day, to try and help plough through the treacle that is commonly known as my mind.  Then I lost it.  Now I've found it, I'll have to put it in a safe place for later.  Only thing is with 'safe' places is that they are so safe we don't actually remember where they are.  Years ago my mother thought the safest place for my purse was the microwave!  What was that about?  Two days I spent looking in an increasing state of panic, when she eventually remembered where she had put it.

Anyway, I digress.  Back to my list.  Thought I'd share it with you.

1     Washing.
A HUGE pile of clothes and bedding has managed to find its way downstairs and navigate its way to the utility room.  There it sits, in front of the washer, looking forlorn.  I think it's hinting at something.  Let's see how long it sits there before someone else takes pity on it other than me.

2     Ironing
Not only have the dirty clothes found their way downstairs, the washing fairy has obviouslydone some as the ironing basket is now being sick all over the work surface.  Looks like the iron and ironing board will be going on a journey.

3    Vacuumn House
Decided I can't do this as hubby sleeping.  He works permanent nights as a Night Manager for a Hotel chain so sleeps all day.  Poor vacuumn cleaner thinks it's been made redundant.

4    Dust, polish and tidy up
Noiseless activity.  I have no excuse not to do this before the family start writing messages to me in the dust.

5     Kitchen Floor
Another silent job.  Again, can't find an excuse NOT to do this.

6     Baking
I love, love, love baking.  On the baking agenda is: Apple cake, Shortbread amd Viennese Cookies.  This could well be the first job of the day.

7     Washing up
Having a dishwasher, I coulod put all the pots in it, but there is something quite tharaputic about washing up.  Sad, I know. 

8     Make some cards
Have cards to make for various occasions.  Time to release my creative side and forget everything other than designing my pieces of art.

9    Prepare evening meal
Usual answer when family is asked what they woud like to eat, is 'Anything' or 'I don't know'.  One day I may just find time from somewhere and write out loads of 'Anything' and 'I don't know' and serve them for tea.  Seriously, going to try and be an efficient mother and have something sorted.  Don't hold your breath.

10    Catch up with a very dear friend
Spend some 'ME TIME' writing an email to my best friend.  Someone whom I love dearly.  Haven't heard from him in a long while.  He's going through Chemo at the moment.  Got to remind him how special he is (even thought he already knows), and tell him even though we are far apart I am with him always.

I decided to stop at 10.  No point in setting myself up to fail.  According to my councellor that's what I do all the time.  Apparently I have extremely high standards for myself and pass those standards on to other members of the family.  I admit to this, and have guided the children to reach their goals and they have set their own standards on their life journey.  I have high standards for my home, but if you looked at it now you'd argue the point.  I've had a phase of 'allergic to housework'.  Do you ever leave something and wait (hope) someone else will do it?  It's like the stuff on the stairs.  Everyone wlaks past it without seeing it.  Next time cover the whole stair with 'stuff' and they step over it!  What is that all about?  Anyway, couldn't live with it anymore hence the list. 

So you found your list, I hear you say, what did you do with it?  How many did you complete?  The baking was a complete success.  The Apple cake was the first to go.  As I'd used so many dishes etc., I had to do the washing up.  In fact there were only two of the list that I did not complete.  Ironing and kitchen floor.  I award myself 8/10.  Not bad.  Did I fail?  In my opinion, no.  So finding my list was beneficial.  I had a productive time and felt good about myself.  Isn't that all that matters after all?

Crafting or housework?

Apologies for not posting my blog for the last two days, had no access to a lappie.  Did find the app for my tablet so now I can jot down my ramblings anytime.

To try and sort my wandering brain cells I thought I would make a list of things I needed /wanted to do yesterday. I also included reasons why I should or shouldn't complete each one.  I had 10 things to do and you guessed it, I only completed 5!  Being a dedicated crafter, housework takes second place to card making.  I did do the mundane washing up, washing and then some baking.When the kids came in from work they were straight into the cookies with the "What's with the baking?" comment. You try and be a fifties style mother, apron on and homemade cookies cooling and that's what you get! Did burn the first lot of cookies though, got engrossed in the film on TV.  Ooops.  There was a time when I was first married that I baked every week.  Not only cookies and cake, but savoury pies as well.  Looking back, disposable income was tight (we'd just paid for the wedding), and I was trying to impress new hubby.  That soon wore off, believe me.

As I said earlier, card making takes priority over housework.  Those who craft will know what I mean.  A good friend who visits us will tell you that the dining table is usually full of card, ink, stamps, etc..  When it's meal times I usually just push it to one side.  I'm sure the family got fed up of 'the mess' but were to polite to say anything.  Anyway, last week I decided to sort all the crafting stash out.  New bookcases were bought and built, then started to move all the stash.  I really thought it would only take a day.  Wrong.  Three days later I finally finished.  Now I sit in the corner of the room, but at least the dining table is free.

Monday evening I sat at my craft area and made a sympathy card.  These are the hardest cards to make.  I like them to be tasteful and elegant yet at the same time personal to the family receiving it.  I must admit, I try and do that for every card I make.  Later today, I'll be sat in my corner again making some more cards.  I'll send people a card just to say 'Hi', it's better than a bill anytime and I do think it's good to send a card for no reason other than to let them know you're thinking of them.  Once I'm up to date on my cards I can get on with the scrapbooks.  I prefer to think of them as memory books.  Reliving times of your life with photos and written memories.  I have memories of my parents and grandparents, and it's good to put these memories down so the children have these when I'm no longer walking this earth.  I will be asking my parents to write down their childhood memories so these can be passed down too.  As well as photos, I also write small pieces to go with them. Where, when, who, anything that comes to mind.  One thing I do put in is family sayings.  Those things your mum said as you were growing up and now you hear yourself saying! 
Going to finish for now, make a coffee and start making some cards.  Olwyn x

Relax......

Good Morning.  Looks like I'm finding the writing urge in the early hours of the day.  You may notice I missed Monday.  Don't we all wish at some time we could bypass Monday?  My Monday was spent in bed led flat on my back; pain 8 out of 10.  Maybe this is why now I'm so wide awake.  Sometimes though, the early hours of the day are the best.  The world sleeps and here I am writing my blog.  So what have I done since my last entry?  Apart from sleep, very little.

Once I was on my own and the witching hour passed, I decided to do some crafting.  Crafting, to me, is a fantastic release.  You loose yourself in what you are creating.  My passion is card making.  I love taking blank pieces of card stock and turning them into minature works of art.  No two are ever the same, and even if it goes wrong (as it did tonight) you bin it and start again. My daughter, Vicky, has a funeral to go to and asked if I could make a card.  These are the most difficult to design and make.  My original idea didn't turn out as I expected so it was demoted to the recycling bag and start again.  The second one turned out better than expected, even if I say so myself.  Here is the one I made for her. 

Sympathy Card

People relax and loose themselves in all sorts of activities.  Vicky loves to do tapestry, Richard loves to play on his XBox.  My hubby sits playing on his football manager game for hours, literally HOURS!!!  It's his form of relaxation and he can, and does, become totally oblivious to what's going on around him whilst he plays.  The other week when a shout went up with various expletives (his team missed a penalty), our daughter Vicky calmly said "It's only a bl**dy computer game, not the real thing.".  Well, if looks could kill........ 

As I said before I love to craft.  I started as a child with my mum and nana teaching me to knit.  I still have the first pattern book I was bought.  There are many happy memories within the pages of that small book.  My nana could knit.  From Aran sweaters to the most delicate lace baby shawl, she was very talented.  Not only could she knit, she could crochet, so from her knee I learnt that also.  Growing up and reaching teenage years, you didn't admit to liking knitting.  It just wasn't cool.  Unlike now.  Knitting has become the fashionable passtime for the 20 somethings.  In their stressful lives they have found relaxation in a ball of wool and some needles.  Once married, I knit baby clothes and hubby asked for an Aran sweater.  No problem.  He got his sweater.  It only took me seven years to knit it!!  I still knit today and have taught Vicky and Richard (her brother), so as my nana passed her skill to me I have done the same. 

Time for a coffee.  It's 5.35am, shopping channel on TV (less depressing than the news) and as I write this I munch on some cheese.  Dawn is just breaking and bringing a nightmare weather day.  Wind and rain.  Definitely a day to stay inside and do some crafting.  The housework can take a back seat for today.  I have a pair of baby Snugg Boots to finish, but as soon as I pick up my knitting needles our Jack Russell,  Roxy will want to sit on my knee.  She has this uncanny knack of knowing when you're knitting and you get no peace until needles down and she's on your knee.  There she'll sit with a silly grin on her face, knowing she has all my attention.  

It's officially the start of another day now, I hear the children's alarms going off, the activity of the house starts again.  My time to be a mum now.  Until later, Olwyn.  

       

 

     

  





What a day ......



Me!!!!



Sunday started for me just like it did for everyone - I opened my eyes after sleep.  Great thing was it wasn't morning!  I'd managed to sleep 'the sleep of the dead' as they say and finally joined the land of the living at 13.45.  Staggered downstairs needing coffee and a death stick (ciggie).  That's how I start every day.  Not always so late, but sometimes .......  Well, bed is a safe place for all.  A place where we go when it feels like everything has become too much, sometimes for some hanky panky but more often than not because we're tired.  

Anyway back to the start of my day.  I downed my first coffee and smoked my ciggie stood at the back door.  Birds singing and busy collecting nest building materials.  Next door to us they have a huge hedge which at this time of year is like a Sparrow Nursery.  So much pleasure in watching them, not a care in the world.  I do think sometimes, wouldn't it be lovely to be a Sparrow, nothing to worry about apart from a comfy nest and hoping that there are a few fat balls around so I can have a good meal.  I know, you sit reading this thinking, 'WHAT!'.  Today wasn't a wishing to be a Sparrow day.  No. Today was a day where I felt like I was approaching the bottom of my mental world.  Have to get a grip.  

Another coffee, and yet another coffee.  TV is on and no-one watching it.  Change channels and see if anyone notices.  No, they didn't.  Watch the craft channel for a while then.  I got lost in my own little world, but it wasn't long before I was bumped back to reality with a question from my daughter Vicky, 'What we having for tea?'.  Haven't a clue.  Need to get some food shopping in.  Told to make a list and her and Richard (eldest son) would visit Tesco.  You know when your brain is having an 'off day' when you can't do something as simple as making a shopping list.  Did put some things down but the only thing I really wanted were 'the anti-murder sticks'.  So far, quite a normal day, but my brain was telling me different.

I need to do something.  What?  I know, knit some snug boots for a friends baby due anytime.  Years ago they would have called it occupational therapy.  It keeps my brain busy, that's what matters.  Even knitting my mind wanders.  I was off on my travels with my dad.  Memories are a wonderful thing.  We can open our memory box and go wherever we want and answer to no-one.  My dad and I were building a snowman beside the road.  We were in the Troudos mountains in Cyprus.  Time with my dad has always been special.  He is my hero.  I remember it being cold, expected in snow, but going back home that afternoon we had a bar-b-que!!  The difference in temprature betwen the mountains and the coast where we lived amazed me.  

I enjoyed my memory visit, but now it was time to talk to self.  Time to be a mother and wife.  Make tea etc..  Tea was made by the kids, I made the pudding.  My mind is rushing round a high speed.  Too fast for me.  I want it to slow down.  It's all over the place.  Still knitting.  That helps, it slows my mind down a little.  Sat thinking about what to write on my blog to make it interesting, but it's my blog and my chance to put down how and what I feel, what has happened in my day.  Maybe then as I read it back I might get an insight as to how and what makes me tick, lol.  Anyway, I need another coffee and am tired now, so goodnight and thank you.

Olwyn           

Organized?

My mind wanders just like I did as a child growing up in a HM Service family.  All over the place and sometimes at very short notice.  Needless to say my three children at times think I'm totally bonkers.  Probably not too far from the truth as 2011 was the year I had another nervous breakdown.  Those who know me would probably think that was the most unlikely thing to happen to someone who is so 'bubbly and out-going'.  Well, you know the saying, 'Public face and private tears', so very true in my case.

Admitting there is something wrong with your mind that makes you unable to cope with everyday life is difficult.  As a woman and a mother part of me felt as though I was failing.  What in?  No idea.  A visit to the docs was needed.  Blubbering like a child and feeling ridiculous I was duly prescribed the anti depressants and a referral for councelling.  One year on and councelling done, I'm still on the meds.  Like everyone I have good days and bad days, only thing is my bad days can last literally days.  My highs are high and my lows are low.  My mind will take a great deal of organizing, and will probably never be what it once was.  My youngest puts it down to 'old timers desease', cheeky sod.  Thankfully my three children, our bonkers Jack Russell and a good friend in Surrey are the ones that get me through.  Without them I'd be a more mentally dis-organized person than I am.

Sat late last night (13/04/12) I decided that to write what I feel could be a healing process.  Hence setting up this blog.  If no-one reads it apart from me, hey......... 

So now my blog is up and running, it's time for me to get organized and make time to sit and write.  If none of it makes sense as you read it, that's just how my mind works.  All over the place.  My ramblings will continue, so until then thanks for sparing a few seconds of your life gaining an insight into mine.

Olwyn