2 Timothy 3:16-17

All scripture is inspired by God and is useful to teach is what is true and to make us realize what is wrong in our lives.

It corrects us when we are wrong and teaches us to do what is right.

God uses it to prepare and equip his people

to do every good work.

This past weekend my youth group hosted a DNow weekend. It's pretty much a stay at home retreat where we brought in SWAT (students with a testimony) to be our councilors. It was great. For me, it's a jump start in the middle of the semester to get me back into wanting to be on fire for God. This year's theme was Get Off The Fence. Read Revelation 3:15 and it will get you a good idea of how God feels about people stuck in the middle.

I didn't feel like I learned much new but I was reminded of several things. One of those was just how important scripture memorization is. Reading your Bible is sometimes put in a higher place than hiding God's word in your heart and don't get me wrong reading your Bible is VERY important but so is memorizing scripture. I forget that. I just read and say "Oh that's an awesome verse," and then forget about it. Then when I need that verse I can only remember the gist of it.

A couple of my friends and I are going to work on that. We've agreed to memorize a verse a week and hold each other accountable. This is going to be a good challenge for all of us. My verse for the week is at the top. I thought it was a good verse to jump start why I'm memorizing God's Word.

So to equip and prepare myself I hide God's Word in my heart.

Operation Slimdown....Its Back!

So - the weekly " Operation Slimdown " post is back! I was considering calling it " Operation Slimdown - Mach 4 " but that sounded a) a bit pathetic ( like how many times do i have start this bloody thing over ?! ) and b) its not like i fell off the diet bandwagon for good. I just .... umm...took a two week break from blogging about it.


Ok, and i took a break from the exercise bit but i promise i kept up with the healthier eating part. I was just so disheartened by the lack of good results that i had a bit of a dummy spit and went " Poo to you excess kilos - you suck! " Which they do - and so did my attitude. I'm a grown, sensible, reasonably intelligent woman , yet somehow i let logic slip away from me when confronted with those all important numbers. Of course my weight is going to fluctutate from week to week, and of course the measurements can be effected by things such as how much water i've drunk that day or (ahem) " that time of the month ". I know these things but, just like many a sensible, reasonably intelligent woman before me, i let myself become a blithering mess, all over a couple of stupid numbers.

Well - no more i say! Those bloody numbers are not going to get me down anymore...in fact, i'm going to get THEM down! Clearly its not going to be easy ( see the last four " Operation Slimdown " posts for further evidence of this fact ) and its going to take me longer than i thought, and had hoped for. The good news is that when i weighed myself on Sunday the scales showed up 76.6kgs - which is less than the last weigh in, so boo yea to me for that!

Oh, and lastly - i've decided not to weigh in every week. I'll still post about how my week has gone physically and nutritionally but i'm only going to weigh and measure myself once a fortnight ( or even less ). I'm not on " The Biggest Loser " - my scales are not going to show fantastic numbers every week, and my weight loss is going to be on the go slow. I think if i can just plug away and work at it and then see an improvement over a longer period of time, i can keep my spirits up and keep motivating myself. Wish me luck!

A Little Ray Of Sunshine

Well - my blog has been a whole sack of sad lately hasnt it? My apologies for that people, and i hope that it hasnt driven too many of you away. I think we all ( usually ) blog about what we know, and what we're going through at the time, and the last month or so has just been a steaming pile of wah, wah, wah for me.

But fear not! Not everything in my life is dreary - we're on the downhill slide towards Christmas ( which is almost always a highlight ) and, 2 days after that, my little Flynn will be celebrating his 1st birthday! I know i'm not the first mother to say this but holy bloody boojesus - how did we get here so quick?! I could swear it was only a few months ago that i was wearing XXL polo shirts to work and had slowly lost sight of my ankles but no, here we are, a mere 41 days off me having a " one year old ". Good bloody gravy.

Also, i'm into week #4 of being back at work and i have to admit it aint half bad. I was so NOT looking forward to going back, i was so sure i was absolutely going to hate it and i was going to have to haul myself off to work 3 mornings a week smiling through clenched teeth but... i'm kind of, sort of, maybe enjoying it a little. I feel like i've gained a little of "me" back ( even if it is " work me " and not " Sunday-afternoon-naps-on-the-lounge " me ). I dont have an adorable little monster attached to me all day long, and nor am i chained to the dirty washing pile... i'm back in a familiar environment, doing familiar things, but i'm doing them on my own. Achieving a little something again that doesnt have anything to do with crawling, teething or learning to sleep through. Granted, its not like i'm going to be volunteering to do extra shifts anytime soon, but at least i'm coming to work with a smile on my face and leaving ( on time! Thank you " i have to get Flynn from daycare " excuse... ) each day not dreading having to go back.

And there we be. In the 41 days til Flynny's birthday i plan on getting a little crafty by making him his own Santa sack; making/organising " Save the Date " cards for my wedding next November; and co-planning with my Dad this years Christmas menu. Anyone for Christmas icecream pudding ?

Ben and Being a Nurse, Goodbye Gorecki (and Beasley?) and Breathtaking Burma!

I was in London last Wednesday. I had been invited to present a paper on the need for nurse educationalists to find more creative ways to prepare students for the emotionality of practice. The event was sponsored by the Health Service Journal and the Nursing Times, and was aimed at developing mental health nursing services for the future. It was a great opportunity to not only talk about the good work going on internationally within the mental health nurse education community of practice, but also to talk more specifically about the approaches we have started to develop here in the School of Nursing & Midwifery at Salford.

Throughout the day, the debate was high level. I was pleased that my thoughts on the differences in preparing individuals to ‘be’ nurses rather than producing individuals to ‘do’ nursing was well received. There was real interest from the Chief Executives and other managers responsible for delivering mental health services in why developing a future practitioner who would be comfortable (and perhaps uncomfortable) at working at the edges of knowing and not knowing was an important ambition to work towards.

I was able to have a conversation with Ben Thomas, Director of Mental Health and Lead Nurse for the Department of Health. He was at the event to speak about the new Mental Health Strategy. It was clear that there will be more opportunities (and challenges) for mental health nurses arising from what are likely to be more innovative developments in the provisions of future services for people with a mental health problem.

The sad part to Friday, was hearing that Henryk Mikolaj Gorecki had died. Gorecki was a Polish musician, perhaps most famous for his Third Symphony (the Symphony of Sorrowful Songs). I discovered his music while I was writing up my PhD thesis. At the time I was house sitting for friend who had a cottage on an island in Morecambe Bay (yes there is one). Twice a day the island was complete cut of by the tide. One afternoon, bored with writing my thesis, I started to look through the CD collection and came across Gorecki’s Third Symphony. I played the music and was captivated by the sadness and emotionality of what is a very haunting collection of music and songs. The main inspiration for the piece was the suffering and survival of those imprisoned in Auschwitz, and his own experiences of living with numerous health problems. As a young boy, Gorecki suffered tuberculosis and spent long periods in hospital receiving treatment, but he was plagued by serious illness throughout his life.

Released in 1992, over the next year the CD sold over a million copies. The success of this work pleased and puzzled Gorecki. No one, he observed, could explain why this music had been successful. ‘Perhaps people, especially young people, find something they need in this piece of music, something they are seeking’. He was reported to have said that: ‘If they are buying my disc rather than cigarettes, I am saving lives all the time'.

Friday I was in Wolverhampton for the Mental Health Nurse Academics (UK) meeting. As usual the day was partly about networking and catching up with colleagues from around the UK. The lunch time talk was around whether the Chief Nursing Officer’s post at the Department of Health would become a victim of the CSR cuts. With Dame Christine Beasley expected to step down next March there was a real sense that the Coalition Government will remove the post as part of its reforms. The post holder advises the government of the day on nursing policy and provides professional leadership to nurses across England. Nursing is by far the largest element of the workforce and accounts for most of the expenditure in the NHS. Being without such a high profile nurse voice in Government would not serve the profession or service users well. Wolverhampton also provided the most bizarre moment of the week. Before getting back onto the train home, I found myself standing amidst the Wolverhampton rush hour traffic and Friday night shoppers, speaking to my boss who happened to be in India at the time. Trying to have a sensible conversation in such circumstances was difficult, and the fact we were able to even attempt to talk in this way was surreal.

And the best news of the week, Aung San Suu Kyi being allowed to walk to freedom from house arrest in Burma today. It was a brilliant and breathtaking moment for both Aung San and Burma.

Mountains and Monasteries in Wicklow

Been talking politics and economics in Dublin. I sit next to people in breakfast shops and in pubs and strike up conversations. I don't have to bring it around to the above subjects because they do. It's depressing. It's also been cold and windy for a few days, so when sun was forecast for Saturday I took a bus into the Wicklow Mountains. Trouble is, it started raining as soon as I got there.Took all these photos at the extensive Glendalough Monastery ruins in the heart of the Wicklow Mountains. I went around by myself, but I overheard a tour guide tell his group that Jesus was Irish. “How do I know that?” he asked. “He had eleven drinking buddies and lived with his mother until he was thirty-three.” Sacrilegious? Maybe, but funny.

The sensor on my Nikon D-60 is sensitive enough to pick up plenty of light on overcast, rainy days, and for that I’m grateful. I knew I was framing some beautiful scenes while resting my umbrella on my head as I adjusted my lens, but I wasn’t sure how they’d come out. I’m very pleased. The sun emerged as the sun was setting and offered some mist to hang over the mountains on one side of the long valley.Vikings had raided this monastery every 20-30 years for centuries before Brian Boru defeated them. I wondered how many slaughtered monks lay under these stones.The wind-twisted cedar struck me. It's not hard to see where the prevailing wind comes from as all the trees - and even the gravestones - seem to lean north. This tree symbolized the Viking violence monks endured for so long. The Vikings would wait long enough between raids to let the monks rebuild and accumulate more things to steal.St. Kevin liked to get out of the city too and he went to Glendalough sometime after 500 AD to find refuge from the outside world. These stones on a mountainside overlooking Glendalough's upper lake (or "loch" as they say here) are all that remain of his "cell." It's assumed that he had a stone beehive structure on the site similar to the ones found in Dingle and dating from about the same time.Always been drawn to ancient trees, especially those with the general signs of age like moss and curiously-shaped limbs. There were several on the so-called "Green Road" to the upper lake at Glendalough. Some seemed like characters out of the Wizard of Oz.It's an enchanting place, as so much of Ireland is to me. This is my third trip and I don't think it's the last. If Ireland's economy continues to tank, perhaps it'll get even cheaper to travel here. That assumes the US economy doesn't collapse along with it though.After a few centuries and half-a-dozen raids, monks built this round tower to hide in when the Vikings came by. Guess it worked because it's still there.As these pictures attest, Ireland has survived travails for a long time and it will get past the one looming now as well. Can't be any worse than a Viking raid, can it?

Go Now, Into The Light

I have just come from the funeral of the schoolmate i mentioned here.

I cried - i cried tears of empathy for his mother and the mother of his children, both whom were shuddering with big, animalistic sobs. I cried tears of grief for his children, who will grow up without a daddy. And i cried tears of happiness for myself, that somewhere inside i found the strength that he could not, and escaped the same fate.

And i was ashamed. Who cries for themselves at a funeral? I have every empathy for his family, even more so that i am now a mother, and each moan that escaped his mothers body broke my heart. My own parents have had to bury a child, so i have some understanding of how much strength it would have taken for her to stand in front of everyone and place loved possessions on her sons coffin. I hate that they have so many unanswered questions, and that they'll never get the chance to have them answered, except when posed hypothetically. I cried tears for all of that, for their heartbreak and their grief and their anger. Yet, mostly, i cried for myself. Everytime suicide was mentioned my thoughts turned to how close i came to that decision, and the lyrics of the songs his family chose to farewell their son, brother and friend brought me further undone.

I didnt attend the internment - i felt i didnt have a close enough relationship to be at this more intimate rite of a funeral, and that my presence at the funeral ceremony was enough to show my respect. Instead, i drove straight home and gave my son the biggest hug i could muster, and sent Mick a message telling him how much i love him. Its all i could do and i hope, in case of dire circumstance, it will be enough....

I'm Still Here People

Well - i've been absent for a few days. Why? No reason. I've been good, feeling ok, not down in the dumps or anything....just somehow everytime i've sat down to blog my mind has gone blank. Blah. Nada. Not a single interesting thing to write. And come to think of it, this is just a " hey, i havent died! " post and isnt actually anything interesting at all.

So, in the interests of keeping my blog alive and trying to unblock my stopped up brain, this is todays post. I hope you enjoyed the blah.
P.S Also - that last post? That was a bit of creative writing. I may find my blog writing brain backed up, but i find myself itching to write a proper, creative, piece of prose again. Good idea or no?