Mum

Walking the dogs twice a day, rain or shine.
Sunday mornings teaching dog obedience classes.
Club secretary, then chairman.
Aerobics at the gym.
Evening classes learning Greek.
From non-swimmer to qualified lifeguard via classes at the pool.
Straight talking.
Practical.
Determined.
Passionate.
Missed.

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Stretch yawn faint

Occasionally I'm overwhelmed with the urge to have a really good stretch, tensing my muscles until they tremble, tipping my head back and unleashing a full on yawn. Lately this is followed by a faint spell - the world goes distant, my vision fades, and everything gets a bit woozy. After a few breaths the world re-intrudes, and normality resumes. It hasn't concerned me, but after a particularly strong episode today my curiosity was peaked, and I typed 'stretch yawn faint' into Google (hallowed be thy results, for thine is the engine, the spider and the crawler) to see what cropped up. It turns out the combo of stretching and tipping the head back starves the brain of oxygen. The stretch lengthens the blood vessels causing a blood pressure drop, whilst it also creates demand for oxygen in the tensing muscles, and finally the head tip constricts an artery in the neck which cuts off the blood to the brain. I'm not sure how common it is in absolute terms, but the f...
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William Boynton Butler

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William Boynton Butler was my grandfather's oldest brother, fondly known as Uncle Willie by my branch of the family, and as Uncle Billie by his wife Clara's family. Sadly I never got the chance to meet him as he died before I was born. He was awarded the Victoria Cross for an extremely brave action during the First World War, shielding a passing troop of infantry from a mis-fired mortar round with his own body until they were safely past, risking being blown to pieces. I gather from family chatter that he was an unassuming man, somewhat embarrassed at the subsequent fuss, perhaps because his actions were an instinctive reaction to the situation, or perhaps because all the men who fought in that war risked their lives daily in the trenches, and many didn't survive. I've published a number of newspaper clippings and photographs collated by my aunt, along with his citation, army records, and a brief biography to our Family Tree . William Boynton Butler - Biography ...
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The odd sock that disappears

I'm on the train to London, sunshine and blue skies on the right, but to the left rain laden clouds threaten. The train cleaves down the middle. It would be a powerful metaphor for my path through life. The train travels through diverse landscapes: suburbia, city centres, industriana, villages, farmland. It is always the villages nestled in the countryside that inspire a longing. Life would be good living there I imagine. The picture perfect setting would engender a similarly tranquil mental landscape where I could be at peace. It is a common enough urge I suppose - to move away and leave troubles behind. Of course the one thing we take with us where ever we go is ourselves, and it is naïve to suppose that we can leave all our baggage behind. I guess I have the full matching six piece set of Louis Vuitton luggage by now. For all my journeys I've never yet had any go missing in transit. Some of the contents have shrunk in the wash, and of course there is always the odd sock that...
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