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Mutterings, musings and general brain flatulence. |
Here be mushrooms 
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Challenge: When you are old, what do you think children will ask you to tell stories about? The most obvious and currently relevant answer to that is, of course, covid. But will children want stories about a global plague? Did my parents ask their parents for stories of Spanish flu? What will media look like in thirty or forty years time? Will it actually be easier for children to ask their Google-equivalent than a 'real' person for a history lesson? And will they still want stories? Of course they will. No matter how advanced technology gets and how many films Disney crank out, children will always want first-hand stories. They are fundamental to who we are as human beings. But perhaps what will capture their imaginations will be a rural childhood - dogs and cats underfoot, bottle-fed lambs and piglets, wild swimming before we even understood it was 'wild,' and the same with camping. Learning to gut a rabbit by torchlight, and building a fire with scavenged wood. Hiking for miles because we were bored or sea fishing out past the bar in a tiny motor boat and watching swarms of pulsing moon jellies swim by. Perhaps this will take on a fairy-tale mythos to the children of the future; at university one of my friends found it incredible that I had lived on a farm - a real-life farm! It astounded her more when I said almost all of my friends had grown up likewise; that we learnt to drive not in cars, but in tractors and dumper trucks (and, it is entirely possible, completely skin the bark off a few trees in the orchard in the process). But if that was incredible to someone *gulp* fifteen years ago, how much more unbelievable will it seem to someone in another forty? Maybe my children's children won't want stories of working on the front line during Covid-19; maybe they won't care that I typed this with my arm still stinging for an unlicensed vaccination or that the nurse advised my to keep a photo of my vax card on my phone as thieves are stealing handbags not for cash or phones or bank cards, but for the black market sales on a tiny piece of card that lists me as fully vaccinated against a delightful little virus called SARS-CoV-2. Maybe my children's children will only be interested in stories about near-mythical creatures that lived in odd little places called farms. And maybe my children's children will dismiss the stories as fantastical nonsense from a grandma who clearly grew up in a different world.  |
| Billy Graham died yesterday. Despite his age (99), it is still something of a shock - and I'm not even of the Billy Graham Crusade generation. I cannot really imagine what the generation before me feel today. Billy Graham was an icon, a faith-leader who brought millions world wide to Christ. I nearly said 'converted,' but I'm sure it was Billy Graham who once told the anecdote; a beligerent man was sitting next to me on a plane. He started pulling me apart for being a Christian and believing in God. He then said 'I was one of you converts you know.' I replied, 'then that's the problem. If you were one of my converts, you were never one of God's.' Meaning, that the man might have given in to the moment; to peer pressure, social expectation, crowd hysteria perhaps. A momentary overwhelming that did not necessarily include God at all. It certainly didn't seem to include God in the follow up. Sadly, I can't help but wonder how many 'conversions' to altar calls end like this. It makes me cynical of the whole operation; which is a great, sad pity, because crusaders like Billy Graham have been instrumental in the conversion of other faith giants. So I just want to thank You, Lord, for the immense faith and outward reach of men like Billy Graham. Influential magnates who have sacrified thousand of hours to Your service and who have remained faithful to the end. I thank You that Billy Graham will now receive a greater reward in Heaven than he could ever even begin to imagine on Earth. I praise You that there will already be hundreds, maybe even thousands, of saints in Heaven that can trace their salvation back to something said or done by Billy Graham. I praise You for allowing such a passionate and true man to walk the earth for nearly a centuary and I ask that You comfort and continue to bless his entire family and that You will build them up to be safe and strong in You. That You will protect them from outward jeers, internet trolls, spiteful letters and the outpouring of a foul generation. Please bless them and encourage them; remind them that Billy Graham has not gone, he has simply gone ahead. May he leave a great legacy in his own family of faith, trust and joy. Father, I thank You for the immense love this man had for his country, but also for the countries and nations of the world. I thank You that he came at the advent of TV allowing his messages to reach even further and wider than the actual crusades themselves and I pray that those recordings will now be played in his honour and for Your glory, and reach out once again to yet another generation. And that those that might have once responded to an altar call by Billy Graham and then fallen beside the way, might take up Your cross again and be renewed in their faith and love for You. Amen. Au revoir Billy Graham, au revoir and not adieu. |
| Make a list of potential tasks for next month's challenge: 1 Review a poem written by one of the other challengers 2 Write a letter (either to your younger self or someone else that suffers from the same condition as you) 3 Do a good deed and write about it (doesn't have to be on WdC) 4 Does the weather or seasons make any difference to you? Why/why not? 5 Review a short story, poem or article in the Friendship genre 6 Submit a product review to "Angel Product Reviews"  by iKïyå§ama-House Targaryen  of a book, film or other product that has either helped you or highlight mental health issues7 Write a short story, poem or article in the Friendship genre 8 Write about a mental health cliche or stigma that infuriates you 9 Write an educational piece on the cliche or stigma above (Day 8) that will change how other people see mental health 10 List three positive things you have learnt from your condition/situation/mental health issues 11 Write about a song or poem that makes you smile 12 Send a merit badge (don't forget you get a free one each month) or c-note to another challenger 13 List here something in your port you would like reviewed by other challengers 14 Review the listed item another challenger has highlight from their port 15 Write a short story, poem or article in the Friendship genre 16 Write about something that has upset you recently 17 Review a challenge entry or blog post for three different challengers 18 Is there a story behind your writing handle or profile pic? 19 If your closest person (partner, child, parent, friend, whoever) could give you any gift, what would you pick? 20 Write about a film or book that is told from the point of view of someone with mental health issues 21 Write a poem or short shorty specifically for a fellow challenger 22 Review a newbie on WdC - link MHWA 23 Write a poem or short story about a mental health problem 24 Is there anything you wish you could tell a loved one that you haven't? 25 Fear is a monster - what does it look like? 26 Review a fellow challenger 27 Write an open letter to the public saying what helps/hinders you 28 List six good things that have happened this month - no matter how big or small 29 Take the two challengers below you in the list (if you are the last two, loop round to the first on the list) and promote something from their ports on your newsfeed/blog 30 Send an anonymous review to someone on WdC that you admire - tell them why you think they're great 31 Write a list of potential tasks for next month's challenge! Task Twenty for the MHWA monthly challenge
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It's Valentine's Day. Whoopee, can you feel my all but non-existent enthusiasm? As a single, I never got the excitement of Valentine's Day - in fact I downright loathed all the hype. I'm not a gushy person, and I resent being told what to buy, for whom, and when. As half of a duo, I confess I still don't get it. I buy Best Beloved random gifts all year round, whenever the mood takes me or I see something that I think it will especially like (or dislike  ...). So being told to buy lots of needless pink, red or black undies, chocolate (okay, maybe the chocolate) or roses (I prefer gerberas) just rankles. I'll admit I still bought Best Beloved a card - he won't admit to being gushy, but he kinda is. And went into the kitchen to find he'd laid out one for me.  You're my kind of WEIRDO! A lime green card with YOU'RE MY KIND OF WEIRDO scrawled all over the front and little floating hearts. I guess I should be flattered - it's a little more from the heart than the generic To The One I Love cards you normally see this time of year. So well done Best Beloved - I'm finally rubbing off on you  - oh dear.  |
We have snow! Honest to goodness SNOW. Okay, so it is the merest dusting and most of it isn't even settling - but it has been several years since we have had any snow at all where I live. This winter as been ridiculously mild as well - I don't think it has dropped below zero more than twice the entire winter. There have barely been any frosts; daffodils are flowering already and I saw primroses at New Year. So, yes, SNOW.   |
| I have just come back from my first ever therapy session. I'm not entirely sure what I expected, but somehow it was and it wasn't what I got. The therapist (I knew she was called Leanne from the letter) chattered at a flyaway speed for several minutes, welcoming me and offering water and a seat, before remembering to introduce herself. When the conversation got around to the recent increase in my medicine dosage and I commented on the current side-effects, she hastened to assure me that they tend to fade after six to eight weeks - I didn't have the heart to say I am a pharmacist and well aware of it When my career did come up later, she didn't do either of the two normal approaches of either getting hostile (a lot of healthcare professionals get very defensive when dealing with a colleague-client) or jumping into the assumption I know everything (another common compliant - GPs in particular are great at dropping in jargon that flies over the heads of equally but differently qualified medical professionals). Instead she just spoke to me like well a normal person. So of course I started crying. I am sick and tired of crying. I am sick and tired of feeling sick and tired. And for the first time in my life, I have decided to be upfront and straightforward about myself. I have depression. I have suicidal thoughts. I have an overwhelming very nearly overwhelming desire to strangle people that talk at me instead of to me. Thinking about it, a lot of the time I want to strangle the talkers-to as well. I also have a strong and passionate faith in my God and loosing my church would be fair worse than loosing a limb. I know plenty of people (myself sometimes included) that will argue you cannot be a 'true' Christian and have mental health issues. Especially depression. Christ died for you, you are part of God's family; how can you possibly be all that and still miserable? Thanks. That shows zero understanding of both mental ill-health and of God. In an attempt to be more open about myself - something that I struggle to do - I have decided to participate in "Invalid Item" by A Guest Visitor and no doubt there will be several posts on mental health in the next few weeks as I get used to speaking about it from a patient point of view and not just a pharmacist's. Despite having lived with mild-moderate depression for the past eighteen or nineteen years, it is only in the past few weeks that I have started talking freely about it. And it's somewhat scary.*In the meantime, I am trying to work my way through some of the Psalms - re-writing them for my own personal use. Below is the first one, based on Psalm 102
https://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Psalm+102&version=NIV *I also have a fear of sounding like one of those so-much-as-look-at-me-and-I'll-vomit-my-entire-life-story-at-you people. If that starts, please tell me x
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One might well argue that if it is cold enough for bobble hats and scarfs, then it is too cold for diving. One would of course be wrong.    I've been back out of the water now for nearly an hour and a half and the feeling has come back to my toes. Just. My thighs however still bear an almost Arctic chill (my hypothesis that there is no such thing as a fat pro-diver does not extend to amateurs such as myself). I'm going to warm myself up with some soup and replenish some of the calories frozen out of me this morning, but first I want to give in to my other great love, writing. This morning, wrapped in 7mm of neoprene (in perspective, most winter suits are 5mm and ones worn in tropical climes, if worn at all, are normally as thin as 2mm) as well as three layers of rash vests, hood, boots, gloves and any other paraphernalia I could don, I went for my first dive of the year. In England. In January.* We saw pollock, including some beautiful juveniles decked out in their sleek bronzes, crimsons and golden rippling stripes. We saw dozens upon dozens of spiny starfish littered along the seabed, and a few of their deep purple cousins, the Bloody Henry. Tiny jewel anemones no bigger than the nail of your littlest finger and swathes of sea orange, a type of sponge that grows in blotchy patches and resemble ugly velvet cushions. And although we didn't see any today (I admit, I was gutted) there have been plenty of dolphins and octopuses spotted recently as well as the prolific seals that breed along our coast.  Hanging weightless in the near-silent environment is both a wonder and a privilege. Every time, I imagine floating in space; surely this is as close to zero-gravity as you get this side of being an astronaut? There is something soothing and other-worldly about scuba diving; even for someone as inexperienced (and downright cold!) as me. Coming back to the surface is always a babble of excitement, with even the most experienced instructors on their most frequented sites chattering nineteen-to-the-dozen about what they had just seen. For someone with only 15 dive hours under my weight belt, I have been lucky enough to dive in some remarkable places. And it is the same the world over - like writers, divers are a mixed-bag bunch, but a burning passion drives them to seek out the underwater world and explore, explore, explore. Like most writers, I love people watching and, as my partner cannot imagine anything more abhorrent then choosing to dive, I'm often in the company of strangers. (Oh, and as an aside, the gender balance seems to be heavily towards guys and the occasional husband-and-wife pair. Solo girl-divers appear to be unusual.) And since I'm really shy, this gives me ample people-watching time. Next time you spend time with a specific hobby-orientated group, watch them. Sit back and observe how insane they must look to outsiders. Look at how they interact with each other - there is a camaraderie with divers that I find mind blowing - and with the enthusiasm they'll welcome someone new to their circle. Then there's the in-speak; most hobbies, sports or occupations has its own language. Divers will babble incessantly about the vis, the drift, and use shortenings for already obscure words or expressions. To say nothing of wide-eyed praise of the most bizarre creatures - wasn't that scorpion fish stunning? who saw the frogfish? was't the moray adorable?**  And that's on the surface, there's also the hand signals for below the surface. If that's how much of a language difference there can be for a single sport - and there as so many others, as well as jobs, arts, hobbies, militant- medical- and scientific-pursuits - in just one language, how much can we really expect to put into our make-believe worlds of fantasy and sci-fi? Tolkien, George RR Martin and many others have invented entire languages for their races and species. The Bible has even been translated into Klingon; the KLV. https://www.bibleworks.com/forums/showthread.php?468-The-Bible-in-Klingon Amazing. Almost as amazing as the idea of leaving my warm, comfy bed at silly o'clock this morning to submerge myself in water that was only ten degrees Celsius (50F for those of you that use Fahrenheit). And I've known divers in the Med use dry-suits.....  *On a side note, I have an appointment to see my GP tomorrow regarding my mental health. Somehow this doesn't seem quite so unnecessary now..... **In all fairness, no one but a diver or marine enthusiast is ever going to call a moray eel anything other than 'ugly' or possibly 'terrifying.' Since Best Beloved won't budge on the cat, Rottweiler or even hedgehog, 'can I get a moray?' has become my new way of winding him up. It works, because he's never entirely sure I'm joking.*** ***I'm not. I would love a moray. I'm ridiculously jealous of this woman: https://youtu.be/3IQ2I-P8Ucw https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Moray_eel |
| Three days ago the world, and literacy art in particular, lost a giant. I am of course referring to Ursula K. Le Guin. Author of, amongst many others, The Left Hand of Darkness, and, the Annals of the Western Shore, and my personal favourite, The Earthsea cycle. A Wizard of Earthsea and the subsequent books* drew me in as a child and were read and re-read countless times as a young adult. It has been a few years since I re-visited Earthsea, but I think it is time to voyage back to this ancestor of Harry Potter and spend some time at the school on Roke. One of the things that I loved most about Earthsea is the simple premise that 'normal' people don't have to be white. Growing up in an almost exclusively white part of Britain (in a school of 1,500 we had one Chinese family and two black) it was never really something that occurred to me, until I read a review on A Wizard of Earthsea and the review commented on how wonderful and validating it felt to have a main character who had red-brown skin. As a child, I had simply superimposed my world view on things and read the people of Earthsea as being very tanned, and the Kargs as perhaps Scandinavian. As an adult reading George RR Martin's A Song of Ice and Fire (aka Game of Thrones) series amongst others, it is easy to see the majority of characters as white. In Hollywood foreigners are given black, yellow or brown skin to make them exotic (look at Lord of The Rings. What colour are the hobbits, elves and humans? What colour are the orcs and goblins?). In Earthsea living in the archipelago everyone is either "red-brown" or "black-brown," it is not until you get to the barbarous Kargish lands that "white" is an option. As an aside note, Earthsea introduced me to the word 'hoar' as in hoar frost, meaning greyish-white. The Kargs are nicknamed hoary people. I remember reading it for the first time and loving what, to me, was a completely upside-down world view. Even at that point - long before I wanted to be a writer myself - I applauded this ability to take (what to me was) the normal and invert to so thoroughly. I still keep Earthsea on my 'special' bookcase. The one where all my favourite series live; Lois McMaster Bujold's Vorkosigan saga, Sir Terry Pratchett's Discworld, JK Rowling's Harry Potter and Susan Cooper's The Dark Is Rising sequence. I think it is long overdue to be pulled off the shelf and read again. Farewell Ms Le Guin and thank you for all your work. *The Tombs of Atuan, The Farthest Shore, Tehanu, Tales From Earthsea, The Other Wind. The Wind's Twelve Quarters collects more short stories including two that would later evolve into Earthsea itself. |
After an unintentional year-long hiatus, the smallest fungoid on WdC is back. The year started well, if busy, with Mr Mushroom & I well into the building MM ourselves a home and rewarding ourselves with a rather elaborate holiday in April that may or may not have involved the islands of Hawai'i.... (bearing in mind we're English, that is a pretty extreme trip). Unfortunately, it went downhill from there. A few weeks later I moved stores with my job and stress levels went from SNAFU to DEFCON 2. By June Mr M's younger sister was diagnosed with breast cancer (their mum had died from b/c when best beloved was at university) and put on an aggressive chemo regime. She found out just before her first wedding anniversary  Mr M and his uncles have been recommended to have gene-testing; if either of the uncles test positive, their daughters will be pulled in. If best beloved tests positive, it will have ramifications for future children. Younger Sister has since successfully completed chemo, had a double mastectomy and reconstruction. She is 29yrs old and the most ridiculously upbeat person I know.  (NB The StoryMaster  , The StoryMistress  could we please have a pink awareness ribbon please?) Work DEFCON shifts to level 1. On the evening of our fourth anniversary, Mr Mushroom proposed   ...and the following day I (finally*) agreed to be signed off work with depression  I am currently starting my fifth week off work. I have had low-grade depression since my mid-teens, but this is the first time I have required time off work. Poor Mr M has taken quite a bit of stick with the timing....*it's been brewing since job change and Younger Sister's diagnosis, but I will always and forever give best beloved afore mentioned stick.  But the last few days had been a massive improvement and I've picked up my pen laptop and started writing again. Cause or effect of improvement is hard to say, but I'm glad to be back. |
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