Crystal Jigsaw

Wrapped in Fur

noreply@blogger.com (Crystal Jigsaw) — Thu, 02 Feb 2012 09:30:00 +0000

The Farmer took a few photos recently with his new camera that I bought him for Christmas. He's finally moved into the digital era so I've been able to put his pictures onto the computer via the sd card, rather than scanning them in. Here's a few:

Not sure Molly approves of the threesome...

Posing Meggie

Sparky guarding her ball

Guilty puppy....

I'm useless at captions, always been one of those people who thinks of something witty to say ten minutes after the event. If you can think of any captions of your own for any of the above pictures, I'd love to read them.

Stop the World

noreply@blogger.com (Crystal Jigsaw) — Tue, 31 Jan 2012 09:30:00 +0000

First of all, I want to thank everyone who contributed a comment to my previous post; a subject I have never written about before; breast feeding and a woman's right to choose. I was overwhelmed with your comments and found each one of particular interest. It's inevitable there will be a difference of opinion on such a complex issue, and it was welcoming to see that most were very gracious in giving their own point of view and managed to stay impartial and unjudgemental. Sometimes, one just has be included in a continuing debate, but I doubt this will be a topic I will write about again. So thanks to all. And if you didn't see the post but would like to know what I'm talking about, it's here: Breast is Best? Poppycock. (It's the previous post - the comments are well worth a read.)

I spent most of Monday sat on my bed watching Dallas. Do you remember that wonderful 80's soap opera based in the oil capital of the world? Shoulder pads, big hair and very long legs, bursting onto our screens in abundance. Some of the original cast will be starring in the new series which I believe comes to UK television in summer. I'm so excited about it that I bought seasons 5-14 on DVD in order to catch up. So now I'm having lots of Dallas days and nights. It's not surprising I'm feeling nostalgic as the 1980's was the decade I went through my teens and into adulthood. They were amazing years for me. I could have done without going to school but the social side of my life was fabulous. I often sit and reflect on the person I was back then; the teenager itching to grow up and become an adult, wondering what the world would be like once I was set free from the clutches of my parents. There were no bills to pay, no complications, no big decisions to make. I was trendy and carefree, happy-go-lucky and dreaming of my future. Life changes so much as we get older; responsibilities mount up and we find ourselves held down by commitment. My dad was still around in the 80's of course, and if anyone had told me during those wonderful years that by the time I was 31 my dad would no longer be with us, I'd have laughed and told them not to be so silly. But then it happens; that moment in time when you suddenly need to press the pause button because you feel your life is moving too fast.

Watching Dallas right now is something I need to do. I feel as though my life has overtaken my thoughts and somehow I need to put the breaks on what is fast becoming a future I'm not sure I want. I know I'll get over this, hopefully sooner rather than later. If I can recollect those carefree days of the Ewings sat around their pool at Southfork, and my dad telling me not to forget Dallas was on that night, I think for now I can handle this feeling of needing to be far away. Occasionally, a look back can help us to search for the way forward.

Breast is Best? Poppycock.

noreply@blogger.com (Crystal Jigsaw) — Thu, 26 Jan 2012 09:30:00 +0000

I'm involved in many blogging circles, mainly to do with writing, autism and mums. For a while now I've read, and sometimes commented on, a considerable amount of posts with regards to breast feeding, and most of the articles have been written by mum bloggers. I have fairly strong views on this subject and I try not to shy away from them. But this week, I read a post written by a mum blogger who's blog I've never read before, and she was literally beside herself because she found it difficult to breast feed. I read through some more of her posts because I assumed she was suffering from post natal depression or something, but all the posts indicated that she just lived a normal, healthy and happy life with her husband and two other children. I refuse to judge anyone, most of all people I don't know, but her words made me feel really sad for her and women in that position.

Women who find it hard to breastfeed their babies are NOT a failure. The whole campaign that "breast is best" has put an increasing amount of pressure on new mums and when I heard many hospitals no longer supply formula, well, I dare say the air was blue around me. I guess that's an issue with the Health Service really, and I assume it's a new issue. I do sympathise with women who feel inadequate because they can't breast feed but I do feel this comes from deep within, like it's a desire to prove their woman-hood in the most natural way they can. All we want is for our babies to be healthy. Many new mums like to try breast feeding and that's entirely their privilege. I didn't.

I was asked once during my pregnancy if I intended breast feeding or bottle feeding. My answer was quick, adamant and not debatable. I was never asked again, not even in hospital. When Amy was born, I was passed a small bottle of formula and she drank it straight away. I had no intention to even try breast feeding, and I certainly had no intention of changing my mind about it. Pressurising new mums is, in my humble opinion, one of the worst things anyone can do. Hormones raging, tiredness, trying desperately to get into a new routine and realising that your life will never be the same again is most definitely all the pressure a person needs. When the health visitor sits opposite you, watching baby squirm about in your arms, then asks how you're getting on feeding and you reply, "not great", that's when you need the support and not the "do you think you might be suffering from PND?" question. If a woman can't decide on which method to use then help should be sought, but it should not be turned into "you should do it this way because it's best for your baby" conversation. Mum knows what's best for her baby, and baby will soon tell you anyway. Breast feeding AND bottle feeding is a CHOICE. No one should ever be made to feel as though they failed because they're having problems with baby latching on, or because the experience is painful and uncomfortable. A woman is very capable of carrying and nurturing an unborn baby for nine months. Surely she is capable of making a decision without being judged or discredited by other women and health professionals.

p.s. I've changed the comments format, can you tell me if you prefer it like this or the other way please...

I Dream of Emigrating

noreply@blogger.com (Crystal Jigsaw) — Wed, 25 Jan 2012 09:20:00 +0000

I have an uncle and six cousins in Australia. My uncle is my dad's brother and the resemblance is pretty striking. I've only met two of my cousins when they came over with their mum and dad in 1979 but I remember it like it was yesterday. The last time I saw my uncle was about four years ago when my nana passed away. If I had to leave the farm, there are two places I'd like to live; one is the Scottish Highlands where The Farmer, Amy and me have spent several wonderful breaks together and naturally holds fond memories for me. The other place is Australia. My uncle lives in Adelaide and even though I know virtually nothing about the place, I'd be interested to learn more. But something I did learn recently was how difficult it is to obtain a visa for a special needs child. They need to prove they can live independently yet I'm not sure if Amy ever will do. It brought it home to me how our special needs society are continuously fighting a battle, just to live the best they can.

The opportunities might be better in Australia, not only for Amy but for me, too. I don't mention The Farmer because he'd never move out of the UK in a million years. I'd be shocked if he agreed to move at all. Because of my epilepsy I realise a long distance move would have a massive effect on me. I'd have to find the right medical care for a start. But I could live in Australia. In my mind I feel I could make a life out there. My uncle moved to Adelaide in the late 60's and settled immediately. I expect times have changed significantly since then but to know I have seven family members out there, not to mention my cousin's children also, gives me a reason to at least dream about it. Maybe one day I'll visit them all. Maybe.

How Much Is Not Enough?

noreply@blogger.com (Crystal Jigsaw) — Mon, 23 Jan 2012 09:30:00 +0000

I know it sounds a bit sad but last week I decided to count the amount of cold-callers and begging correspondence I received in the post and on the phone. On average, we get 2 phone calls a day offering their services and trying hard to make us believe they're the next best thing since Bell invented the phone. Between Monday and Friday I answered the phone 14 times to cold-callers, even though we are registered with the Telephone Preference Service. We only have a business line so I assume this is why the volume of calls is so high. One caller rang twice in one day; he wanted to speak to The Farmer who was, astonishingly, working on the farm. When I told him this, he said he'd ring back another time, which he did, at 3pm that same day. Once more I fobbed him off and fortunately he hasn't rung back since. As I'm far too polite to tell them to piss off, after all they're only doing their job, I just hang up. A lot of these calls are international; I'd be interested to know how they got my phone number.

But what is really starting to irritate me, and it's not a new problem, are the amount of begging letters addressed to me personally. Charities seem to be getting increasingly desperate for our money but is January really the best time to try to encourage us to pay out? Last week, I received two lots of charity raffle tickets, three pens, a huge sheet of address labels and a very sad letter telling me that the amount of money I give to a certain charity simply isn't enough. We see adverts on tv everyday attempting to make us feel guilty for eating and having fresh water, organisations asking for just £2 per month and a constant barrage of charities urgently needing our help. I give to 3 charities, all very close to my heart. What puts me off is the fact that our £2 will make "all" the difference. How many people need to give £2 in order for it to make a difference and how long will it be before that charity is ringing up to ask for more money? I'll always support genuine charities because I believe in the work they do, but all this paper and free gifts seems, to me, a waste of money, money that could (and should) be used to support the cause.

Edit: since publishing this post at 9.30 this morning, I've received two more phone calls, one company of which phoned twice last week.

Use Twitter Wisely

noreply@blogger.com (Crystal Jigsaw) — Wed, 18 Jan 2012 09:31:00 +0000

I had another freaky experience on Twitter the other day when I obviously tweeted the wrong thing. Being a lover of social networking, I find I have more confidence online than I do in the 'real world'. Whether that's right or wrong, it's how it is for me, and honestly, I'm not really that bothered. But occasionally something happens that undermines that confidence and pulls you down a peg or two, making you feel like you're the biggest loser on the planet. For those of you who use Twitter, you will know how inundated it is with spam. Many people, especially in my timeline, try not to type words that will trigger spam tweets such as "diet", "weight" and "job". All these words generate automatic spam tweets, or spam-bots, that are usually asking you to click onto a dodgy link, and have a profile picture of a scantily-dressed woman. Once you've used Twitter for a while, you get wise to these spam-bots and know not to click on the links. I'm digressing slightly, so I'll cut to the chase... Over last weekend I tweeted about my iPad. Now whenever someone tweets the word 'iPad', they are usually bombarded with spam tweets about where you can buy an iPad, how to win one and such-like; so many of us prefer to tweet something like 'eye pad' as an alternative. I got into the habit of doing just this and have used that term for weeks now.

I learned, on Sunday, that there are some pretty nasty individuals on Twitter after I tweeted about not being able to use photos I'd taken on my "eye pad". For the next few hours, I was completely overwhelmed by what I would class as bullying tweets taking the piss out of my use of the term eye pad. I stopped counting the amount of retweets that particular tweet got after I reached 50, because it was starting to upset me. As a general rule, it's a great thing to be retweeted, (and in my opinion, important to say thank you) especially if you're promoting something and want to spread the word, but in this instance, that tweet was picked up by someone in another country who wasn't even following me. They are obviously a member of a very large group of people because over and over again, I was retweeted by people who didn't follow me, who had thousands of followers themselves and who just seemed hell bent on making me look like a complete idiot. "What's this bitch talking about", was one comment, followed by "rofl, wtf", followed by many leaving symbols of faces laughing, some crying, others rolling their eyes. None of these people knew me, not one of them even tried to get to know me, yet all of them thought they had a right to judge me. I don't know if you could call something like this bullying, or even abuse, but it made me realise, yet again, that we have to watch what we say. I often find Twitter a difficult place to be these days; recently, I'm finding less people wishing to interact with me and I'm also noticing an increase in the self-righteous tweets. If I had my way, I'd keep Twitter a friendly and supportive environment and not have it turned into an aggressive and smart-arse social network that none of us really need. And before anyone says I'm being too sensitive, I agree with you - I am too sensitive, but none of us should have to put up with bullying in whatever form, however weak or strong our personalities are.

Who Comes First?

noreply@blogger.com (Crystal Jigsaw) — Tue, 17 Jan 2012 09:30:00 +0000

There was a debate on the radio concerning the tragic incident that happened over the weekend where the cruise liner capsized. It must have been a very big shock to the passengers to realise they were caught up in what has been described as being like "a disaster movie". It certainly brought tears to my eyes when I listened to a survivor tell how some people were asking other passengers to take their children because they didn't think they'd get off alive. I've never been on a cruise, I don't like sailing. But getting back to the question that sparked the debate, and one I found rather interesting, listeners were asked, "should women and children get off first?" My initial reaction to that was, yes, they should. Then someone rang in and changed my mind; he thought mothers and children should be first, rather than women in general. It raises a very thorny issue though, don't you think, especially where hidden disabilities are concerned. It was reported that grown men were pushing past people in order to get off the boat, and I think that's because it's human nature to panic in an unknown situation. But I suspect many of those men were fathers and husbands, desperate to stay with their families. What an incredibly difficult issue to raise, one listener said, especially in these modern times of equality.

Once upon a time, it would have been women and children first, no questions asked. But what about the elderly, the mentally unstable, the disabled? Where should we draw the line when it comes to 'who comes first'? I listened to a few more people giving their opinion but in the end, it was clear that the answer is such a grey area it is almost impossible to answer. What do you think? Women and children first? Mothers and children first? Disabled people first? It's worth a ponder isn't it...

Give Me Reality Any Day

noreply@blogger.com (Crystal Jigsaw) — Wed, 11 Jan 2012 09:30:00 +0000

As someone interested in farming, I love to watch the reality TV shows that are supposed to educate us all on the trials and tribulations of working and living on a farm. Lambwatch and Springwatch will be on before we know it, and once more we'll all get the opportunity to see new life brought into the world. It's quite encouraging how so many farms have spanking new gates and sheep pens, new and shiny pieces of machinery to make the farmer's job so much easier. It's wonderful to see how the whole family takes part, all year round, shoveling poo, mending fences and working round the clock to ensure the new pick-up that's desperately needed is delivered on time. I delight at the wonders of a well-trained, fit and healthy sheep dog, adhering to every command, beautifully groomed as it lives in its meticulously purpose-built kennel. I love to see the farmer's wife donning her many hats; cook, child bearer, mum, wife, farmer, lambing assistant, taxi, happy-go-lucky and not a care in the world because her husband comes in every night, shags her senseless and they wake up content, before she pops off to the kitchen to rustle up a full English.

And back to the real world....

Gates falling off; crap everywhere.

A Real Farm!

Confused Sheep Dogs

Okay, so being a farmer is pretty amazing...

Is It All Too Much, Do You Think?

noreply@blogger.com (Crystal Jigsaw) — Tue, 10 Jan 2012 09:39:00 +0000

There's such a lot happening in my life right now, I feel as though I'm stuck on a roller coaster and can't find the exit. When evening comes I can't wait to put my pj's on and snuggle up under the duvet with the television on. Sounds a bit pathetic I know - I mean, how old am I? Not exactly past it am I?! (Stop sniggering at the back) One of the things I'm planning is quite exciting, for me. I've decided to re-launch my book, Discovery at Rosehill, but this time just as an eBook. Many people I've been privileged to get to know in the last six months have done this too, and I feel it's time I joined in. The book has sold well but I certainly haven't promoted it enough. My lack of confidence hasn't helped. Popping into a few local book shops a while ago was the furthest I got to a book signing and to be honest, I'm starting to feel a bit inadequate as an author. I read so many wonderful websites offering advice and giving suggestions, and the websites I'm involved with (loveahappyending.com and Famous Five Plus) are incredibly supportive. I'm in the stages of planning a Blog Tour and ten people so far have offered to help.

I think we go through these periods in our lives where we don't know whether we're coming or going. I like a challenge and I like to be kept busy, but for some reason recently, I've been so unmotivated and lethargic that I knew I needed to do something drastic. Re-launching my book is perhaps a little drastic especially when it's been out for ten months now, and I have my second novel ready to be edited which I'm determined won't take a back seat. Am I taking on too much do you think? Amy's at school all day and I'm here, trying to get on with my own life. It's easy to become entangled with our kids lives and wake up one day to find we've lost our way. I know if Amy needs me I'll drop everything, but this is important to me. Something I achieved with no help from anyone was writing a book. Well, when I say no help from anyone, I mean no help from anyone still living...

Our New Addition

noreply@blogger.com (Crystal Jigsaw) — Thu, 05 Jan 2012 09:05:00 +0000

This is Tanya; she's 8 weeks old and the new addition to the Jigsaw household. She has already, after only a few days, settled in and made herself completely at home. House-trained and eating well, she's proving to be a very clever little sweetheart. We got her for Amy but I must admit, this gorgeous little creature has captured the hearts of all of us. She sleeps in Amy's bedroom and in the middle of the night snuggles under the duvet to keep warm. Amy is naturally in her element!

On Wednesday, Amy went back to school and I shut Tanya in her bedroom while I showered and dressed. This was where I found her an hour later; quite content as she lay on Amy's pajamas. How adorable is that?!

She absolutely loves playing on the stairs. We have quite a lot of them, some steeper than others, and it's so funny watching her scramble to the top only to bomb back down again at a hundred miles an hour! We've introduced her to the dogs who don't seem particularly bothered about having a tiny creature in their house, but Jessica (our adult cat, 9yrs) has shown her who's boss. We're letting them face up to each other for a short time each day until eventually, they will just accept that the house is overrun by animals!

Happy Birthday, Amy

noreply@blogger.com (Crystal Jigsaw) — Tue, 03 Jan 2012 09:30:00 +0000

My beautiful malteser-eyed princess is twelve years old today. So often I wonder how I was capable of bringing such loveliness into the world, but of course I did. She was born three weeks early and took almost 36 hours to make her appearance once labour had started. Believe me, the relief I felt when my baby was swathed in a blanket and placed in my arms, was quite intense. I guess I thought I'd given birth to an elephant at one point, then I looked at the tiny button nose, luscious lips and the rosy red cheeks as perfection stared back. Our child's birthday will always be one of the most nostalgic days of our year and today, for me, is no exception. I look back on previous years and recollect the precious memories that I will cherish for the rest of my life.

Which words come to mind when I think of Amy? Incredible, unconditional, overwhelming, beautiful, independent, talented, argumentative, loud, funny, happy. She has a wonderful life because she's loved, and because she knows how to love. She comes first, second and third. She's the brightest light in my heart and the deepest hurt when things go wrong. So much has happened between us over the years, and so much more has yet to take place. What a lucky mum I truly am.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, AMY.
I love you more than anything else in the whole wide world.

The Week That Was

noreply@blogger.com (Crystal Jigsaw) — Tue, 27 Dec 2011 09:14:00 +0000

I hope those of you who celebrate Christmas have had a wonderful time and enjoyed some quality moments with family and friends. Our Christmas day was quiet, just how we like it; time for us and no pressure. The dogs wouldn't leave the kitchen for fear of losing the aroma of turkey, completely in their element as The Farmer carved the bird and threw the odd bits to four drooling mouths. Even though Amy doesn't believe in Santa anymore, it didn't stop her from making the most of one of her favourite days of the year. Next week, the excitement will begin again when we celebrate her twelth birthday.

But this week for me has always been a time when I think about what the following year will bring. I've usually been one to make a new year resolution, then forget about it a fortnight into the new year. So this year I'm not going to make any. I'm going to wait and see what next year brings and even though I will naturally encourage my ambitions to materialise, I've decided that working hard and being true to myself will go a lot further than making promises I don't keep. I've always believed that things happen for a reason; whether that means facing a challenge or being handed a lucky charm. But what I do know is that I'm prepared to make the most of what I am given. Especially if I win the lottery!

Long Path to a Short Day

noreply@blogger.com (Crystal Jigsaw) — Wed, 21 Dec 2011 09:30:00 +0000

Had a lovely long weekend when friends came to stay. Took Amy into town on Saturday after her horse riding lesson, and she had her ears pierced. She was so excited and I have to say, they look gorgeous. We're cleaning them with lotion three times a day and turning them with very clean hands (means Amy keeps washing her hands every time she's been playing with the dogs - result!). Am so ready for Christmas now. As I finished all my shopping at the end of November and posted my cards the first week of December, these last couple of weeks seem to have dragged. All for one day. But we enjoy Christmas enough to make the most of it for a whole month. I asked on Twitter last night if anyone will be tweeting on Christmas day; I suspect I'll pop online for a while at some stage, just to see what Santa delivered to you all. I wonder if anyone will be blogging on the 25th...

My Meggie. Totally adorable.

Riding high and loving it.

Recording Children - Is It Right?

noreply@blogger.com (Crystal Jigsaw) — Mon, 19 Dec 2011 09:30:00 +0000

We all love watching our children perform and as I told you in my previous post, the pride we feel is immense. I used to record Amy's school plays when she was little and would put it on video to sell to proud parents and family, thus raising a little money for the school. Once the videos were available to buy at just a few pounds each, a letter went out to parents inviting them to purchase a copy. Unfortunately, the last time I recorded it, the school received a note from a parent saying they did not give permission for their child to be included in a recording of the school play. And so the following year, the school sent out a letter a week before the play, to all parents asking for them to sign a slip and give their permission for their child to be recorded. Out of 40 children, one of their parents sent the slip back saying "No, I do not give my permission". That was the end of that. From then on, no one was allowed to record any performances or take photographs during a school play just in case little Joe Bloggs was included in the shot. I wasn't the only one who found it sad, I have to say.

I think many schools have this approach now. I don't question why a parent wouldn't want their child included in the school play recording nor do I judge someone on their opinions, but it does make me feel a little upset for the children's parents who are so proud and just want to cherish every moment of their child's achievements. Amy's new school did say no camcorders to be used because they have done a recording of which they will sell on DVD's, but I noticed several people there with cameras and camcorders and really, I don't blame them one bit. They were proud; thrilled to watch their beautiful child on stage. When we watch our children in the school plays, they are usually the only children we are interested in. It's nice to watch the others too of course, but would you buy a DVD of your child's school play if your child wasn't in it? I can't wait to watch Amy's performance again and I'll be buying a few copies to give to my mum and some friends. I understand some people don't like their children's faces being made public but this is a school play, something we should all be proud of. At First school, it took one parent, just one, to stop any family and friends who couldn't get to the play, to miss out on what should have been the proudest moment of their children's lives to date. I suspect this is happening often in schools these days and whether it's the minority who are spoiling it for the majority remains to be seen. But I for one will be first in the queue when those DVD's are being sold. What are your thoughts on this?

Wish Upon A Star

noreply@blogger.com (Crystal Jigsaw) — Thu, 15 Dec 2011 09:20:00 +0000

The school hall was packed on Wednesday afternoon with proud family and friends, all supporting their talented kids as they took part in the Christmas performance. Before it started, some members of staff including the head teacher told me I would be in for a big surprise. I listen to Amy sing every day, she has a beautiful voice. To be given the opportunity to sing on a stage in front of an audience has been something I've wished would happen for her, but I have often thought her unpredictability might hold her back. I was wrong. She walked onto that stage in a long red dress with a woollen shawl wrapped around her shoulders. She looked every bit a professional. The audience went still, even the little ones at the front stopped shuffling about on the benches. A guitar was strummed and a keyboard sounded whilst Amy clasped her hands around the microphone and looked towards the sea of gaping mouths. Every lyric of Silent Night could be heard as Amy's voice rang out, soft, meticulous and perfectly pitched. The strength and confidence she demonstrated left the hall looking on in awe as they witnessed a star in the making.

I tried so hard not to cry. I wanted to enjoy every second of the three songs she sang, the others being Knock, Knock, Knocking on Heavens Door, and Because You're Amazing... Just The Way You Are, the last one as a duet before being joined by some other children. The teachers and staff did an incredible job to prepare these special needs kids to perform to such a high standard. Two older children even bought the two staff members who organised the show, a bouquet of flowers - out of their own money. These kids love going to that school. They all feel included and part of a family. They all feel valuable and worthy. They are encouraged to take part, reassured they will never fail, supported in everything they do. To see my beautiful baby girl sing her heart out and know that not only did the audience enjoy it but that she had a wonderful time, has been the best Christmas present I could ever ask for. I knew she had it in her; she just needed a chance to shine. And she's taken that chance with both hands. Being proud doesn't come close to how I feel right now.

My Special Day

noreply@blogger.com (Crystal Jigsaw) — Tue, 13 Dec 2011 09:30:00 +0000

To see the 13th December on my blog means a lot to me because it's a special day. I don't like being center of attention but on the 13th of December 1969, I was exactly that to two very special people, my mum and dad. They held me in their arms and decided to name me Kathryn. Dad wanted to call me Jennifer but mum won him over. I like both names but as I've grown up with Kathryn, I guess I am more partial to it. When I think about my dad swooning over his baby daughter, I smile and imagine him staring into my eyes just like he did when he first held Amy.

There have been some amazing things happen in my life and the unconditional love bestowed upon me by my parents is, next to Amy's existence, the most incredible. When I was little, I waited with much anticipation and intense excitement for the 13th of December to come round. It did of course, and I would cherish every minute. I intend to do the same today, albeit without the child-like eagerness I used to feel. I'm 42. I'm a grown up. I'm a mum first and foremost, and wife to a man I wouldn't want to be without. I reckon the last 42 years have been worth celebrating, and today I will remember the two people who introduced me to the journey that is my wonderful life.

A Future I Can't Predict

noreply@blogger.com (Crystal Jigsaw) — Mon, 12 Dec 2011 09:30:00 +0000

I think we can all probably say we don't know where this year has gone. The older we get, it seems the faster time goes which is probably a very good reason for us to make the most of life. I feel as if I've done a lot this year and even though it's been somewhat of a roller coaster, what I've achieved actually makes me quite proud. Having published my debut novel and finished the first draft of my second, got Amy into a special school, started horse riding again, got my driving licence back after two years being unable to drive, it's been a busy 12 months. I've had more low days than happy ones even though being content is how I feel; I've lost friends and made new ones, joined websites and left them, become involved with writer's websites and appeared in two local newspapers and two national magazines. One can't say it hasn't been eventful.

There have been times when I've almost deleted my blog and left Twitter, days when I've vowed to stand up for myself then backed down out of fear, and times when I've wanted to tell the world to bugger off before wanting to shout from the rooftops how immensely happy I am. I don't know what next year will bring. If I self-publish again it will mean a new book and some hard work; I'll start writing my third novel and I'll continue updating the blog including the new pages I've created that I hope will also benefit you. But on the whole, so long as I'm still here this time next year to tell you about my roller-coaster year of highs and lows, I'll consider myself pretty lucky. None of us really want to get old, the thought of it alone can be a bit daunting. But I'd much rather grow old, because the alternative doesn't seem quite so appealing...

May I point you in the direction of Amanda Cowley's blog where she has featured me and kindly promoted my book, Discovery at Rosehill.

Despicable Vandalism

noreply@blogger.com (Crystal Jigsaw) — Wed, 07 Dec 2011 09:23:00 +0000

Appallingly, the mini bus that is used to transport kids at Amy's special school has been vandalised. I'm completely disgusted that anyone could even have the audacity to vandalise such a necessary and vital part of school property, but to do this to a school where each child is disabled in one way or another and relies on this bus as part of their every day learning, is quite beyond belief. Children are taken to various places to learn and integrate a little with society because the majority of them who attend the school have difficulties in particular with social issues. Many depend on the bus to take them to the shops where they are taught how to buy items and handle money, others use it for swimming, day trips and other paramount activities. Who in their right mind would do something so sick? Rumour has it that it's kids, probably trying to find a way to alleviate their boredom, but we all know there are too many kids roaming the streets with nowhere to go. Yet nothing is ever done about it.

The school have been fortunate because a very generous offer was made to pay for repairs thus enabling it to be used again. But to me, this act of thuggish behaviour is just another example of our angry and selfish society that thinks of no one else except themselves. It's never anyone's fault; there's always an excuse; punishment is always intervened by the do-gooders. But once we've got down to the nitty-gritty of these disgusting vandals, there is a human being whom, in most cases, knows no different. It's the way most of the thugs of today's society have been brought up. It's what they live with on a daily basis which makes vandalising a school mini bus a fun thing to do, because it gives a kid street cred. It's pathetic and very, very sad that these kids probably won't feel any remorse or be punished for what they have done. Whether they will be caught I don't know, but I doubt they'll be prosecuted if they are. Depending on their age, they'll probably get away with a slap on the wrist and a friendly caution whilst their parents look on with pride. These sick individuals have nothing to look forward to in life. Whether we're supposed to feel sorry for them I don't know, but right now all I feel is extreme sympathy for the disabled children who have had trips cancelled because of mindless bastards who think they're untouchable. Which, as we all know, probably are.

The End of a Magical Era

noreply@blogger.com (Crystal Jigsaw) — Mon, 05 Dec 2011 09:30:00 +0000

The inevitable happened over the weekend. For several months now Amy has been questioning her belief in Father Christmas and I have been trying hard to keep the magic alive by giving half-hearted answers like, "if you believe, then he must be real." I don't consider it lying but as she's almost twelve years old and is constantly asking me to tell the truth, I figured she'd already made her mind up and just needed me to confirm. So there we were on Friday night, watching I'm a Celebrity in my bed when she turned to me and said, "mum, does Santa really exist?" It was the way she asked that made me realise I couldn't carry on the pretence and it was finally time to come clean. I looked at her and forced a smile. Then I shook my head and watched tears form in her beautiful eyes. "He doesn't exist, does he?" she said, "please tell me the truth." And I reluctantly admitted defeat.

The tears fell and the sobbing started as she collapsed onto my shoulder. The hurt and disappointment was overwhelming and it took all my courage not to join her in a sea of tears. To say she was mortified was an understatement and I held her close for about twenty minutes whilst she fought the devastation. After a few nose-blowing sessions and drying of eyes, she eventually calmed down and turned her attention back to the television but every few minutes she would turn to me and clarify what she now knew. "I can't believe Santa doesn't exist. Was it you who put the presents in the lounge?" I did feel guilty, not just because I'd been found out, but also because I'd had to be the one to shatter her wonderful imagination of Santa coming down the chimney, getting stuck half way down before he would polish off a mince pie and glass of orange then rush back to Rudolf with a hand full of carrots. I suspect this Christmas won't be quite as magical as the previous ones but I'll make sure she has an amazing time, even if I am Santa. The festive mood will always be alive in our house over Christmas, and that's something I can always guarantee.

Beneath The Surface: Does It Exist?

noreply@blogger.com (Crystal Jigsaw) — Thu, 01 Dec 2011 11:14:00 +0000

I've been tagged recently by a few different people and as a lot of you know, I'm pretty useless at fulfilling the task in hand that is generously bestowed upon me in order to tell you more about myself. Having been blogging since May 2007, I would say I'd covered most things I wish to share on this open blog, and the skeletons I haven't uncovered are generally still in the cupboard for a reason. I have several profiles cluttering up the Internet that all give a little piece of me away, from my favourite music to my favourite books, from what I do for a living to what my hobbies are. You know I'm unsociable, have little confidence, am a total bore and am an easy target for bullying, whether online or otherwise, and you also know that I would do absolutely anything to protect my daughter. You know I love blogging and adore online interaction and those I communicate with on Twitter know I have a very unhealthy crush on Martin Shaw and keep losing chocolate peanuts in my cleavage. But it's a funny old world isn't it? For none of us truly know what goes on in "there". I sometimes wonder myself if I'm honest and for fear of sounding like a maudlin old hag, I spend more days down than I do up.

The way we perceive ourselves online can be totally different to how we appear in real life, and only those people who know us inside-out, will ever truly understand our thoughts. But no one really knows me that way because, believe it or not, I do find it hard to open up. Over the years I've talked about a huge amount of subjects surrounding my life, being good, bad and ugly, but I've never really told you about me. Some blogs I read are cringe worthy because they're so 'open'. People lay their lives on the monitor for all to see, dirty washing, private thoughts and unnecessary revelations. Other people only talk about one subject, be it themselves, their children or their work. I've never been able to keep this blog to one subject because I have so much to tell. But what I do tell only touches the surface of my very complex life. How about you, would you be prepared to bare your soul online and tell the world about your life?

It's Taking A While

noreply@blogger.com (Crystal Jigsaw) — Mon, 28 Nov 2011 10:55:00 +0000

If you're looking for the post on Aggression in the Playground, I deleted it after being reassured by the school that I have nothing to worry about. Sheila, Addy, Actually Mummy, Kahanka and David, please accept my apologies and sincere thanks for taking the time to leave a comment, I hope you will understand.

It's taken me a while to get used to a new school even though I feel it's taken Amy a much shorter time. She has adapted to a different school-life and made some new friends but I'm the one struggling with the new methods of teaching that are associated with special schools. The consolation I have is that every member of staff, especially Amy's class teacher, are wonderfully supportive and always make me feel better when I have a need to speak to them. They are efficient and caring and I feel very lucky that Amy now goes to this school. What I find difficult right now is the many varied conditions and special needs which the children at the school are having to cope with. Amy isn't used to it and neither am I. Realising now that I should have got Amy into special school two years ago instead of sending her to a mainstream school where she was made to feel different, is something I may always regret but at least she's now in the best place.

It's bloody hard being a parent of any child; we have to get used to new routines and transitions just the same as the children do, albeit on a different scale, but we are the ones who worry when our child comes home with a grazed hand or a story that we'd rather not hear. I will get used to the new school, I know I will. Amy's managed to settle in and make friends and is learning every day about personal space, appropriateness and friendship. So many children are aggressive and I don't know what the answer is apart from instilling discipline from an early age. But I've brought Amy up to understand that aggression is unacceptable so when something happens at school that could be seen as such, she automatically assumes she has been the victim of violence. Far fetched and over-the-top perhaps. But my child has autism. She finds it hard to understand why mum tells her that aggression will not be tolerated, yet whilst at school, being pushed is seen as a form of rough play. With the school's help, we are tackling these issues head on because all that matters to me is Amy's welfare and happiness.

Are All These Changes Really Necessary?

noreply@blogger.com (Crystal Jigsaw) — Thu, 24 Nov 2011 10:38:00 +0000

I'm starting to get a bit bloody fed up with all the changes constantly being made to our online social media platforms. As someone who isn't technical, it's becoming a nightmare to navigate round these certain areas where I enjoy interacting with personal and online friends. I'm a big user of Twitter and a mediocre user of Facebook, and then of course we all know how much I love my blog. I consider myself to be an "old-school" blogger as many of my loyal readers to this blog are also. Maybe you are all incredibly technical and welcome these changes that seem to keep taking place; maybe you have time to sit playing with the mouse all day, every day, learning how to use this new app and that new app. But I'm not technical, I find new apps complicated and like I said, am really sick of switching on the pc every day to find another change has taken place, either on Twitter, Facebook or the Blog.

I welcome progress, of course I do. I'm all for living in the present. But it also seems (to me) that all these exceptionally clever intellects that sit behind a computer almost twenty-four hours a day in their air-conditioned offices with formulas, knowledge and technical jargon spilling from their back ends, have nothing better to do than make my life more complicated than it already is. I like my blog the way it is. I liked Facebook the way it used to be, without having to keep changing settings and being included in conversations that have no relevance to me; I love Twitter, and I don't need any more technical apps to "make things easier". They don't make things easier (for me), they make them more complicated because then I have to work out how to use another new platform. Google have introduced Google+ which I can't make head nor tail out of. I've tried, god knows I've tried. I just don't see the point yet of this app or platform or whatever it's being called this week, and I'm not sure I need another social media platform to use anyway. But then I heard that Google Friends Connect will disappear in March next year. Why? I appreciate that only a fraction of the 2,000+ followers I have ever read my blog and I imagine a huge chunk of them are spammers. But I like seeing that box in my sidebar. I enjoy having the thought that someone else has taken the time and trouble and actually wants to follow my blog. In fact, it's a bloody great feeling if I'm honest.

So what will be the point in following blogs anymore? They don't appear in your Google Reader and the world of blogging (in my eyes) will become considerably smaller because we'll all start to stick to blogs in "our circle" and the ones outside will start to disappear. I suspect comments will reduce, stats will decrease and on the whole, the experience of blogging will turn into a secret diary that we might as well keep locked under our beds. I suspect I'm pretty old-fashioned to you all and I'm not bothered if I am. But why change something that works? Why spend money "upgrading" and "improving" (I put those words in quotes on purpose) when there's really no need to and when I imagine the majority of Blogger users are perfectly happy with the way things are?

I'd also like to say that this post has been inspired by Nickie at Typecast who has voiced some very interesting points on this subject.

Car Crash

noreply@blogger.com (Crystal Jigsaw) — Wed, 23 Nov 2011 09:28:00 +0000

Perhaps I tempted fate, who knows, but yesterday my poor mum was hit side-on by a woman pulling out of a junction. Fortunately, neither my mum nor the woman were travelling at speed but the damage to my mum's car is quite severe. As the woman hit the driver's side of my mum's car, I'd say my mum is pretty damn lucky to have walked away without serious injury. She was naturally shaken up and said her legs felt like jelly when she got out of the car, but she didn't feel any discomfort straight away. The woman accepted blame and they exchanged insurance details; it all seemed to be done above board and efficiently. The woman was hugely apologetic and quite upset about what she'd done so my mum being my mum, comforted her and assured her it could have happened to anyone. No matter what happens, my mum is always the rock.

Last night however, mum started feeling a bit bruised and achy which is probably the shock kicking in, but nonetheless she's going to see the doctor and perhaps have some physio. She's fit for a woman of 68 but no matter how fit we are, how young or agile, a car crash is still a shock to the system and can take a while to get over, both physically and mentally. As I live 200 miles from mum, I felt pretty awful that I could only comfort her on the phone. If there was a time I wanted to give her a hug it was when she reluctantly said, "I'm okay, don't worry, love." My sister lives with her so I know she'll be looked after, and my brother and his family live just around the corner, plus she has a wonderful partner who will no doubt bow to her every need. So I won't worry about her, I'll just think about her. Like I always do. She's a good driver and drives "by the book", non of this speeding or overtaking, road rage and aggression lark. She gets from A to B as safely as she can and avoids driving on a motorway. I only hope this doesn't knock her confidence on the roads. People really should be more careful when pulling out of junctions.

From A to B

noreply@blogger.com (Crystal Jigsaw) — Mon, 21 Nov 2011 09:30:00 +0000

I had to flash my lights at someone the other day as they hurtled towards me at what must have been at least 80mph. He was overtaking a stream of traffic and whether he thought he could make it without killing someone I have no idea, but I had to move to the side of the road and slow right down to avoid a head-on collision. The A1 is like a race track at the best of times. I've only ever flashed my lights at someone once before, not long after I past my driving test in 1987. They were four young lads in a clapped out banger, the driver who literally pulled out of a pub car park in front of me and missed me by a whisker. I flashed my lights at him and he braked suddenly, which meant I had to brake suddenly, too. To this day, I don't know how I didn't end up attached to his bumper. When he'd got his revenge he sped off and put two fingers up at me, reaching out his hand through his open window. I vowed never to flash my lights at anyone ever again. But on Saturday, I was so angry at being put in a dangerous situation by an idiot driver in a fast and powerful car, that I saw red. Road rage is something I loathe but so is putting someone else's life in danger for no reason. Amy was in the front passenger seat.

I do think this kind of driving is a form of bullying and intimidation. People drive close to you trying to get you to a) drive faster, or b) move over so they can overtake; people shake their head at junctions whilst they're sitting behind you, trying to get you to take chances and nip out; people don't stop at give-ways, such as when the road narrows to one lane or if there are stationary cars blocking the road. All these things can so easily be avoided if only people would have more patience, better manners and a lot more understanding of other drivers. I don't know what's happening to our roads these days; it seems people have to get from A to B in record time and can't sit behind a lorry to wait until it's safe to pass. During the harvest, the A1 is packed with tractors and the odd combine, and I love it because it slows the traffic down. It can be frustrating getting stuck behind a slow moving vehicle, be it a tractor, a lorry or a milk float, but for goodness sake, wouldn't you rather get from A to B in one piece and live to tell the tale like I just did?

You may have noticed I've added pages (along the top) called "Blog Promotions", "Book Recommendations" and "Special Needs". If you think you might like to contribute to any of these pages, please let me know. Thanks.

Perfection To Me

noreply@blogger.com (Crystal Jigsaw) — Thu, 17 Nov 2011 10:25:00 +0000

I stroked Amy's soft cheeks last night when she lay in bed, and looked into her beautiful malteser eyes. I remembered when I used to draw circles with my fingers around her cheeks then touch her cherry lips, telling her how incredibly beautiful she is. To me, she is the most stunning creature in the whole of creation. Before I had a child, I would never have dreamed of such intense love or of the unconditional bond that happened overnight. Moments like last night make me thank the world for what I have. I sometimes feel I don't deserve something so perfect in my life, but I know really that I do. We all deserve to be loved. To think I have the love of another person and the responsibility to give that person the best life she could ever wish for, has made my life complete. We have issues, problems, difficulties that we'll probably never overcome. But we will always have each other. And the days ahead will always be graced with the fact I have the truest of true love that a person could ever have. She drives me mad sometimes; I annoy her. She shouts at me and I shrug. She slams doors and storms off; I ignore her temper. Then she turns to me and says, "I love you, mum", and my heart melts. Every time.