How the heck did that happen?

Image courtesy of Suat Eman via freedigitalphotos.net

Image courtesy of Suat Eman via freedigitalphotos.net

The costume lady lost the pirate’s trousers.

Well, to be more precise, she lost the trousers that my son was supposed to wear as a pirate in his recent school play. Trousers that I had purchased especially for the occasion. As soon as she realised that she had lost them, she spoke to me and apologised and I told her not to worry – that these things happen. An alternative pair of trousers was found and that was that as far as I was concerned. I promptly forgot all about it.

A week or so later, on the first day of the school holidays, I took my son into our local town to get his uniform for his new school amongst other things. I say local town, but there are actually two or three towns within a similar driving distance, it is just personal preference as to which one that you go to. Having completed most of our errands, we walked into the precinct to visit our final shop, only to bump literally into the costume lady and her family, exiting the shop that I had bought the pirate trousers from several weeks earlier. As she saw me she did a double take and then rushed up to me, pressing a bag into my hands. The bag contained not one, but two pairs of trousers (because she had been unsure of size) which she had purchased as a replacement for the lost trousers.

We chatted for a while and I tried to insist that she really didn’t need to replace the trousers, but she wouldn’t hear of it and so we came home, two pairs of trousers better off.

Image courtesy of Stuart Miles via freedigitalphotos.net

Image courtesy of Stuart Miles via freedigitalphotos.net

Immediately after I had run into her it occurred to me that several things, outside of either of our control, had to have happened in order for us to meet like that. Firstly, we both had to be shopping in the same town on the same day at the same time – this is why I mentioned that there is more than one town local to us. Secondly, we had to enter the precinct at the exact moment that she had finished her purchase and exited the shop and finally, we had to be there on the day that she had decided to buy the replacement trousers. A heck of a lot of coincidences.

Image courtesy of Salvatore Vuono via freedigitalphotos.net

Image courtesy of Salvatore Vuono via freedigitalphotos.net

A good friend of mine once told me that a coincidence is God’s way of communicating with us. His way of letting us know that He is there. I don’t know. I know that I have written posts in the past about certain hard to believe coincidences that have occurred in my life and this definitely is another one to add to the list. Does it mean that God is trying to tell me something? I am not sure. Part of me would like to believe that He is there lending all of us a helping hand but another part of me is kind of on the fence.

Either way, it was a pretty remarkable experience and definitely something that doesn’t happen every day. In an odd way, it gave me a great deal of comfort.

What does anyone else think about coincidences? Why not share some of yours? I would love to hear them.

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A blog is like a child

2014-04-07 18.09.35It’s true. A blog is like a child.

You have to care for it, nurture it, love it and help it to grow. And if you neglect it, then it will become sad and empty.

I have to hold my hands up and admit that I have neglected my blog. I have failed to nurture it in recent weeks, indeed I have failed to nurture others’ blogs too and I can see my ‘jungle’ looking back at me with drooping trees and sorry looking plants.

I could provide a whole host of reasons for this – I have been incredibly busy, there is much work to do on the final editing phase of book one, I have been inundated with school related activities etc etc… but whilst that is all true, the real reason for the neglect is very simple.

I have had no idea what to write.

Every day I have logged onto here waiting for inspiration to strike but nothing has been forthcoming. Sometimes I think of things to tell you all and then I decide against it, realising that even though they may be important to me, they will be of little consequence to you, the readers of this jungle. So I have remained silent. For far too long.

At the end of this week we go away for our annual holiday and I fear that with a further two weeks of neglect, my jungle will be all but wilted, but I am determined that that is not going to happen. For the remainder of this week I am going to try to feed it with content, to boost its immunity and then whilst I am away, I am going to catalogue – diary if you will – events that occur. Anything and everything will be noted so that when I return, I can breathe life back into this wonderful place of mine and go about bringing it back to full fruition once more.

And in amongst all of that, I intend to be mounting my four wheel drive jeep and traversing through all of your blogs, popping by and just letting you know that although I have been silent, I have not forgotten you. Any of you.

So here’s to all of you and your fabulous blogs and here’s to Jade’s Jungle – may it recover its beauty and welcome many travellers in.

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When elastic bands carry meaning

2014-07-22 11.24.11If you haven’t heard of ‘loom bands‘ then this post will be a bit alien to you but trust me, this is a worldwide phenomenon.

My awareness of it started about a month ago when my son kept picking up small elastic bands from school and we neither of us had a clue what they were. Fast forward a few weeks and not only do we now know what they are, we have also been bitten by the bug.

What a simple concept and yet how satisfying it is to loop a bag of small bands into anything ranging from a dress which I believe sold for £170,000, right down to the smallest of rings. It would seem that you are limited only by your imagination and as far as recreation activities go, for those of us who already enjoy crafting, this is right up there.

Until yesterday though, I had merely been looping these bands for fun – making small animals for some of the children at my son’s school and just generally messing about with them. That was until I stumbled across this video here where someone had cleverly created a loom band teddy bear to represent Autism Awareness, complete with jigsaw puzzle logo on its tummy. Suddenly, this went from being a bit of fun, to something that actually hit home and had meaning to me – I had to make one.

Sadly I didn’t have enough of the right colour bands so my effort is a bit multi-coloured, however you can get the overall idea. Incidentally, he’s not meant to have sticking up hair, it’s just that the top bands broke and I haven’t worked out what to do with them yet!

The reason that I wanted to post this though was because each time I look at this bear, knowing what he represents, it sends a warm feeling through me. It is like because I have looped these few bands together, I am supporting and flying the flag for Autism Awareness and people like my youngest son everywhere. Rather than just being something that is made for enjoyment, it has meaning and purpose and I have to be honest, when I first came across this craze, I never thought that it would give me that kind of feeling. But it has.

It’s a funny old world‘ so they say and it sure is. Whoever would have thought that a few elastic bands would give me a warm and contented glow?

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The Gift

Jade Reyner:

A beautiful message from a wonderful blogger. Something we should all remember. Thank you Dennis.

Originally posted on Dennis Langley's Blog:

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I recently finished the second part of my summer vacation. A recount of the first 9 days can be viewed here. The second half consisted of various family members visiting the cabin at varying times. The first to visit was my father. The domestic CEO had taken the day off and prepped the cabin for our arrival. Furniture was moved to make it easier for dad to maneuver his walker. little did I know the gift that he would give me over the three days of his visit. Those of you with aging parents and grandparents, pay attention.

At the tender age of 91, dad took the long car ride quite well. I know this because he started talking before we got in the car Friday morning and hardly took a breath until we arrived at the cabin four hours later. This is the same man who said a total of…

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Just a bit of fun… update

I really wish that I had made this into a caption competition – the suggestions as to what was happening in this photo were fantastic and many had me laughing out loud. Thank you so much blogland!

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You all spotted the cat and the bird and of course you were absolutely right – however….

The bird is not the prey.

I probably have the only cat on the planet that is scared of birds and if this pigeon had deigned to fly down from its perch, she would not have been seen for dust. She is a right wuss. All brave when she thinks that the bird is out of reach, but as soon as it gets any nearer than this then that’s it, she runs indoors.

So, like I said, just a bit of fun and thank you all so much for your amazing comments and for making me laugh. You are all wonderful. Thank you. :-) x

If you don’t like feet – look away…

Image courtesy of david castillo via freedigitalphotos.net

Image courtesy of david castillo via freedigitalphotos.net

Let me tell you about one of my most physically painful experiences – aside from childbirth. (Those of a weak constitution, may wish to look away now.)

I was about 16 yrs old and was suffering with recurring verrucae’s on both feet which were comfortable and happy, digging mercilessly into my feet. After several failed attempts to persuade them to leave, I was left with little option but to have them cut out – sorry, I did warn you. As a result I got taken to the chiropodist who agreed to remove them, however the process involved injecting anesthetic directly into each of the verruca. Let’s just say it hurt and leave it at that.

The reason for sharing this story is that my husband is currently suffering from a sore toe – of his doing I may add – however whenever I even try to go near it, he runs (ok, hobbles) for the hills. Now call me a sadist, but my cure-all for his particular affliction is to get a needle, have a good dig around and relieve him of his pain, yet for some reason he is not particularly keen on this method. I have quoted childbirth to him and even reminded him of my verruca experience but he has pleaded the fifth (ie. man flu) and is planning to go to the doctor instead.

I have decided that by rejecting my offer he is ‘wimping out’. I am also stung by the betrayal –  that he wishes to replace my good old home remedy with a professional who knows what they are doing. The cheek of it. I think that I need some solidarity here blogland.

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