Nerja in December part 1

We left a cold and blustery UK and arrived in Spain to find blue skies and a yellow thing in the sky that we vaguely remembered - it was the sun which we felt that we had not seen for months. And it was WARM. After a 45 minute bus journey from the airport we arrived at the Hotel Riu Monica which stood like a monolith by the beach. It was the highest building in the whole of Nerja and I think that once it was built the authorities must have decided that nothing else as tall should be built in what was a small village which had been rebuilt after an earthquake in the previous century. The hotel was comfortable and in spite of its size, it was possible to feel quite private within its walls. The food was plentiful - a huge buffet for both breakfast and evening meal, and we never felt hungry enough to eat lunch after a late breakfast.

The water around the main feature of Nerja, the Balcon Europa which is a promenade built on the area of an old fort, was unbelievably clear and turquoise. This photo almost captures the intensity of the colour. Coming from our northern Winter into this hard clear light was amazing. I love the soft colours of an English winter, but this was stunning. Real blue under a clear blue sky and blazing sun. The downside was the concern over the lack of water in the general area. The river beds were dry, there had been no rain at this point for many months and the fear, often expressed,  was that the area would suffer from desertification and grow similar to Northern Africa.

This lovely palm tree, lovingly pruned stood on the Balcon. I had no idea that they needed to be pruned to look like this, and assumed that they grew looking for all the world like pineapples.....It took a day of careful pruning to cut away the dead branches and allow the new growth to carry on growing upwards.

The final photo is of the swimming pool outside the hotel and the small beach area between it and the Mediterranean. The days were warm, the evenings cool, the sun shone and it felt good to be out of the incessant rain that we have suffered in the UK this autumn.

My daughter's wedding - a few thoughts.

When my daughter told me she was engaged to be married I was absolutely thrilled. I remember feeling warm all the way through my body, I felt - healed. Healed from the loss of Glyn, healed from the effort of dealing with my RSD, healed from other ills of life. It didn;t last long.

Within a couple of weeks the wedding plans had been altered. At first, the marriage was to take place in Amsterdam and I prepared to organise paying for it, helping to choose a dress etc etc. The usual mother role in effect. Then the plans were changed so that the wedding was to be in France where the in-laws live so I swallowed hard and thought that that might be ok. Finally the decision was taken by the couple - something to do with the in-laws - to get married in Mauritius with NO family there at all. My son was told that I had insisted on a wedding here, there were emails that should have been private that were read by the wrong person, and everything became totally messy and I became very unhappy about the whole thing.

I have, in spite of all this, made some kind of peace with the situation. But how it goes now I don;t know.

The final straw was hearing my son tell my daughter that if there were to be a family do after the ceremony, he would prefer to go to the do in France rather than come to me if I organised something. I was so upset by this - the final straw as I said.

I hope all this will sort out in 2010. I don't know how and, worst of all,  I don't know how to stop the hurting, when even the postmistress, when I posted something for the marriage,  is astonished that I am not to attend my only and much loved daughter's wedding. If my daughter's father had been alive this would never have happened and that fact makes this all the worse.

All will be well in the end though.


I am genuinely pleased - thrilled - that Abigail is marrying Eric who seems genuinely fun, kind, loving, generous, gentle....
Abigail is happy with Eric and that is the most important thing.
The wedding is only the wedding. I just want peace and love between all of us. Life is far too short for arguements to last long. I love Abigail. I love Eric. I love my son Cris.

I love Joseph above all.

All will be well, and all will be well.....please God.

Here is Peepie.....she knows everything will be ok!!

And all this hurt will pass, as all hurt must, or we couldn't carry on.

Just a quick view of the cross stitch that I am doing. I know it isn't really creative as such, but it has kept me sane during some bad times this year so I am grateful for its existence. I have managed to keep going, not cry too much, and get through my chest infections and flu and pain whilst stitching so it has done the trick.

This is the view from the back of our lovely
flat in Leeds, and I love it....trees, and open space, and somewhere to dream and think and create in future years.
When the sun shine, the view is absolutely beautiful, and the area is so quiet and peaceful.

Here is a photo of my lovely Martha who, as usual, is looking hangdog....silly dog, much loved!

We visited Saltaire whilst we were in Leeds and here is the River Aire taking up residence in nearby fields, a small taste of the severe flooding that has happened in Cumbria. The poor Lake District has just been awash.

I found this bush in full flower - in the middle of all the gloom, a splash of bright yellow, my favourite colour......a touch of the year to come as this year spins away into history.

Going Away - a warning for the future...........

We arrived home on Tuesday evening and it is now Friday evening. I have tried to pack and do things in a calm way so that we can set off in a festive-ish mood, but as usual, the whole business of going away is clouded by J's mood. He hates the preparation for going away so I have done as much as I can, but he is still ratty in mood, angry, depressed, stressed by things he hasn;t done and I have had to bear the brunt of all of this. Everything I say is greeted by anger or rage, which is so hurtful. I have had enough hurtful things said this year, I have heard enough lies about myself to last me a lifetime, and I don;t want to deal with this ever again. So I am writing this, so that when we next discuss going away, apart from a long weekend at a Travelodge, we don;t go. We don;t need to go - we have the flat in Leeds, and that gives us enough freedom, so this will be the last major holiday I organise. Period.

I don't need the hurt, I don't need the depression, I certainly don't need the extra hassle of washing and ironing and packing. I am fine with the two places and travelodges. I will not go away on a proper "holiday" again. I am writing this here so that I remember because I am prone to forgive and forget, and I don't want to have to do this again. I am in pain in my heart of hearts. Its not fair.


ps IT WAS WORTH IT!!!!! We had a great holiday and I loved Nerja and the views from the hotel - just a bad week. By the time we were packed and ready to go - all was well. I spent the last day before we went at a scrapbooking crop and did 6 layouts in the 12 hours (it was an ALL DAY crop for Xmas!!) and then came home and shut the suitcases. Look at the photos......of course I will do it again!!

going away

We are off on our travels again...

Its strange how quickly this little flat has come to feel like a refuge, in a city with people who care and who might make a difference. Somehow this feeling has never come when I am over the other side of the Pennines. It would appear that people there more "cliquey" and it is very very difficult to break into a clique. Even places where I felt safe or wanted have been illusory places of safety. I don't know why.

Maybe I am becoming paranoid but it seems that I can be easily overlooked or forgotten or just insulted whilst living on Merseyside.

Maybe that is a feature of the community over there and that supposed "warmth" that makes Liverpool famous is actually reserved for locals only and I am  - am very much - an outsider?

Sometimes that is how I feel about life in general. That I am outside looking in. I am just on the periphery of life and that is difficult. I make myself talk to people I don't know, but it is becoming an effort, one that I am less and less willing to make.

I like this flat. It feels - safe. And quiet.  And I don't relish leaving it.