Tag Archives: Friendship

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“Mish-Mash”

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I have found it difficult this month to write a blog! I had loads of random thoughts (Mish-Mash) about various activities I have done in the past month and cannot focus enough on any of them to develop them fully. … Continue reading

Talking of Friends…

A long, long time ago (1965) in a city far, far away (London, England) two little girls (well…11-year-olds) met for the first time. It was the first day at senior school for both and, as you’ve probably guessed, one of those girls was me. I didn’t want to be at this prestigious grammar school. I knew no-one in my form, although three other friends from junior school had, like me, won their place there, they were in different houses and our paths rarely crossed.

Me 1965

Me, September 1965 (don’t laugh!)

If my memory serves me right, I was sitting at the double desk by the window three rows from the back of the class, when Anne approached, looking equally as lost as I felt, to ask if she could sit next to me. We became good friends and for four years always spent our lesson breaks and lunchtimes together. I went to her home maybe once or twice, but she lived too far away for us to spend any time out of school together. We were alike in many ways, shared the same interests, shared almost the same birthday (hers is the day after mine!) and both felt out of place and unhappy at school.

Four years later, a mix up occurred with another pupil who had the same initial and surname as me, which made me lose complete and total interest in school. I hated it and left soon as I was 15, much to the consternation of my parents and headmistress. No one from my class tried to contact me and I never heard from anyone again. Not that I had a lot of friends there, only Anne.

Many years later Friends Reunited was conceived. In 2000 I registered out of curiosity, found a few names I recognised, made contact and exchanged a few messages with some, even toyed with going to a school reunion but, deciding no one would remember me, didn’t go. Then I received a message that made me cry. It was from Anne, saying that she’d always wondered what happened to me, why I left school suddenly, and that since that day, she’d hated the school even more because I was the only friend she ever had there, and after I went it was awful for her. I was gobsmacked. I never realised.

From then on we chatted online regularly, shared many heart-to-hearts. We’d planned to meet, but we both worked full-time and she lived some distance away. Life, work and tragedy seemed always to conspire against us meeting again. When I retired from work, I intended to drive down and see her, I had no excuse, but a few weeks after finishing, I found myself without a car to use. Then Anne moved even further away. Regardless, we made a pact that this year, 2015, would be the year we would meet. Nothing would stop us.

And nothing did. At the beginning of November I drove across the country to see her. The whole experience was surreal. It was as if the last time we’d actually spoken was yesterday… the years just fell away. I’d vowed to myself I wouldn’t cry when she opened the door, but I did, I blubbered like a baby. She hadn’t changed – I would have known her anywhere. Her and her husband made me so welcome, insisting they put me up for the night even though I had booked a small B&B nearby, took me for a drive around the area where they live on the coast, even treated me to dinner. We shared many stories about school, family, life, photos, and laughed a great deal. All too soon it was time to drive home.

Anne and me Nov 2015

Anne and me.

How I wished we’d gotten together sooner. We’ve agreed we must meet up again, only this time I won’t leave it so long, and intend visiting next summer. Anne’s is a friendship I truly value, one that has stood the test of time and one I shall never let go.

Leisure

Today I’d like to introduce a new regular blogger here at Over the Backyard Fence. My dear friend Jane Smith will be posting on the fourth Wednesday of every month. I met Jane when we were both studying for our BA degree with The Open University here in the UK. That was, ahem, a very long time ago, and we’ve been friends ever since. Jane is well travelled, enjoys many interests, and has a great sense of humour. I know she’ll be treating us to some really interesting posts along the way, and she’s chosen to start with a subject we can all relate to in one way or another. So welcome, Jane, and over to you…

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Several of your blogs I’ve read relate to the topic of leisure in one way or another. Do we make time in our lives to spend time on leisure activities? What do we, each individually, consider leisure? One person’s idea of spending time differs greatly from another. I have been thinking about this concept a lot lately, because I am doing too much. But not work as Jillian was talking about earlier this month, since I am retired! A poem I read at school constantly pops into my mind, is it a reminder from my inner self to slow down I wonder? “Leisure” by W H Davies opens with the lines:

What is this life if, full of care,
We have no time to stand and stare …

jane choirReading through the rest of the poem starts a chain of thoughts for me about my life. I am sustained by love of friends and family. I take two yoga classes a week which ground me and sing with a community choir which gives me a sense of well being, achievement and friendship (that’s me in the photo in a black dress with a purple scarf). I also attend a book group which stretches my mind as well as being another source of friendship and fun. Regular contact with my close friends offers all these things too: grounding, fun, conversations on a wide range of topics and relaxation. Good friendship is a mutual support system, one to the other – especially in difficult times. My grandchildren are another source of delight, a child’s view of life makes grown ups stop and stare in a different way. The continuity from my own children through their children, the family rituals which get passed down repeated at birthdays and Christmas. A pattern resembling a huge tapestry which shapes our lives.

I meant this first blog of mine to be light hearted but a piece of writing for me often takes on its own path. Most of you are published authors, I am an avid reader. I have read through your current blogs and the range of topics is fascinating. The humour and love in your lives shines through and the wide breadth of activities too. Your Country Shows resemble our summer fetes and county shows here in UK, but the family aspect and pride in one another’s achievements, whether showing animals or baking, is again a valuable layer of our lives.

Recently my choir did two concerts. One to help raise money for a 19 year old tragically killed. Max was in a car, as a passenger, racing against his friends on a county lane, unofficial of course. A van came unexpectedly around a corner and wham. The impact on many lives, including the van driver and his family, was devastating. We were invited to perform, nervously on our part as it was open air, to a mainly young audience (most of us are over 50!), and our main song was a request from the youngsters of Bob Marley’s 3 Little Birds. I forgot to mention we are an A Capella choir. We arrived to find a Reggae Band performing “our song” which threw us totally! But we rallied one another, got on the stage and sang our hearts out. Two other songs, one Hawaiian another African, led to the climax of the main song. Well, the reaction was amazing – the youngsters whistled, clapped and sang along with us. It was a wonderful feeling to cross generations in tribute to Max and a worthy cause to educate other youngsters in the risks of five minutes fun.

The second concert was this week in a local church. Family and friends of the choir bought tickets, so did other members of our local community. The pressure was huge to do a good performance. Again it was wonderful. The audience sang some songs with us, we raised money and we all felt great. Both these examples illustrate aspects of my leisure. Enriching, loving and fun. A sense of community. Our lives.