Shoes Issues

I had the opportunity to see the exhibit, Shoe Obsession at the Fashion Institute in NYC, this past week and it made me think. What is my shoe Obsession and what does it say about me? My 9 year old daughter and I visited Macys in New York, where they have a shoe store with its own zip code and an express elevator that goes directly to the shoes! We held the Christian Louboutin red bottom shoes, with a tear in our eye! Now, what does that say? I buy a pair of shoes or boots every other week. My shoes speak to me! They are housed in my boutique like closet, where they can be viewed like works of art. Stillettos, flats, boots, red, yellow, classic black, every color, every style! And yet, depending on my mood, my frame of mind, my shoes may tell the story! A little sexy, see the 5 inch stripper shoe in pink! How about that business meeting, see the satin black pump in the corner. I think my shoe obsession says that I wear my issues on my feet!

Friends from High School

It was suggested that we post about friendships this month.  I have three groups of friends from high school.  I graduated in 1961 from Parkville Sr. High School in Parkville, MD. 

One of those groups I have know the members since sixth grade, two of them went to the same church I did, went to Luther league, and Girl Scouts with me.  One of the ladies has been my best friend since sixth grade.  All of us did things as couples until one of the husbands died.  Now only the women get together every few months since one of us lives in a retirement community in another state about an hours drive away.

In another group there are four of us, now know as "4ever Friends".  We try to get together monthly.  We eat our or in.  We play Mexican train dominoes together every chance we get.  We even took the dominoes on a cruise we all went on together with our husbands.  We have traveled together to some of our children's weddings that were out of state.  We were in Hilton Head Island last November when we met Jackie who became a friend in an instant. 

The final group is the reunion committee.  We had so much fun getting together to plan our 50th reunion that no one wanted to stop meeting.  Now we meet quarterly to eat and talk. 

We have met other members of our class who are amazed that we have stayed in close contact with members of our class all this time.  Each of these friends from high school has enriched my life and the life of my family.  My children call my best friend, Aunt.  Our husbands have become friends, too.  We vacationed with some of them.  A few of them are also in my Red Hatters Group, too.

As far as I am concerned, they will continue to be my friends until the day I die.  Thank God for such wonderful, fun loving, supporting friends.

Mothering Sunday

 Mother’s Day and Mothering Sunday.

"In Europe, the fourth Sunday in Lent is known as Mothering Sunday. It’s origins are somewhat vague, but it is thought to have started in the 16^th century, and involved people returning to their ‘mother’ church or cathedral. Servants were given the day off, in order to be able to travel ‘home’ to their spiritual roots and the church of their youth. This was an important day in their calendar, as time off work from the drudgery of their day-to-day lives for those in service was precious, and a rare thing. Originally, it had little or nothing to do with human mothers, other than the fact that mothers often accompanied their children and might be given bunches of flowers, picked from the hedgerows on the way to church, and most certainly was not a commercial thing in any way.

As the western world has become more and more secular, the origins of this particular Christian festival has become lost in the mists of time, and inevitably, the day has become known to most people as ‘Mothers’ Day’, and commercial interests have exploited it as a way of selling such merchandise as cards, expensive bouquets and boxes of luxurious chocolates, and we are all expected to participate in the spending orgy, in order to prove our gratitude to our parent. Now of course, we have Father’s Day too, and who knows how long it will be before Grandmas and  Grandpas and Aunts and Uncles and Nephews and Nieces and Everyone else we might come into contact with in our day-to-day lives have their special day too, and we are morally compelled to purchase tokens of our esteem for them all?

Personally, I stubbornly refuse to refer to this day as anything other than ‘Mothering Sunday’, and have been known to correct folk who have misnamed it! I point out to them that ‘Mother’s Day’ is actually an American invention, which is celebrated on the Sunday closest to my birthday (May 8^th).Anna Jarvis is thought to have been the originator, in 1908, and she campaigned to make it a national institution to celebrate motherhood in all its forms. As in so many other instances, we on this side of the pond seem destined to follow where our American cousins lead, so that our own, quite distinctive church festival has mutated and morphed into something else, and I am sure that most people, especially those of no religious convictions, have no idea whatsoever of the true meaning of ‘Mothering Sunday’. Perhaps it behoves those of us who DO know, to tell them!"

Penny from across the pond

 

 

I am new to blogging.  The past few weeks have been a challenge several very close older friends have died and a younger man has died leaving a very devastated family since he was not ill.
Knowing that those who died have gone on to a better place, it is still difficult seeing the turmoil that some of these families are left to deal with.  Currently my next door neighbor is being moved from the hospital to hospice tomorrow.  When she dies, her family that lives with her may need to find another place to live.  I have been praying for all of them.

Easter is only a few weeks away.  A time to celebrate new life and remember that all those who have died have the promise of new life. 

As a Catholic, I am happy that a new Pope has been chosen, a humble man of the people and I pray that God will bless him and fill him with the Holy Spirit each day so that he might bring peace to all people.

I live in Baltimore, MD.  I am ready for Spring.  My crocus are blooming and my daffodils are out of the ground about 6 inches.  

My husband is of Irish decent which means we are celebrating St. Patrick's Day with corned beef, cabbage, potatoes and Irish soda bread.

Linda

National Health Scandal

……The National Health Scandal.

1948 was an auspicious year in Britain, for two reasons. First, it was the year of my birth, and second, it saw another birth, that of the National Health Service;- a cradle-to-grave, free-at-the-point-of delivery, universal healthcare system for all, regardless of income.

It was the brainchild of the two Bs;- Aneurin Bevan and William Beveridge, and is funded by taxes and National Insurance contributions from all those in work. For sixty years it has been the envy of the rest of the world, and in particular, the Americans who are of a Democratic political persuasion, and who are often faced with crippling bills when they need treatment,- or in the case of the very poor and disadvantaged, who cannot afford private medical cover, and who consequently may have to go untreated.

Yes, our system is essentially simple, like all really great ideas, and for the most part, easy to administer and happily accepted by most of us who contribute financially to it. But of course, all good things come to an end, and over the decades, the NHS has come under huge pressure for several reasons.

One is the fact that people are living longer and longer, and so are requiring more healthcare and for longer. Another is that science and technology inevitably moves on, and we are now able to offer folk more and more complex procedures, which naturally, they wish  to avail themselves of, whatever the expense. Consequently, the Health Service has been creaking and groaning under the strain of trying to provide everything to everyone and within budget.

In 2007, things started to go badly wrong at my local hospital, Stafford, part of the Mid Staffs Healthcare Trust. Those in charge were determined to gain Foundation Trust status; something which would give them more say-so as to how funds were used and services delivered. But corners were cut and staff numbers fell to dangerous levels in an attempt to reach the targets demanded to gain this status.

Many, many people suffered poor care, neglect and even abuse, hospital infection levels were sky-high, and over a three year period, the number of deaths of patients went through the roof. It resulted in three separate enquiries, including the Francis Enquiry, which took evidence from hundreds of folk and which reported its findings two weeks ago. The press has been full of calls for those responsible, most of whom have moved on, to resign and morale amongst remaining staff is at an all-time low. Stafford Hospital has gone down in history as the greatest scandal in healthcare since the formation of the NHS;- atitle which we prefer not to have.

My own dear husband was a patient during this period, and his was one of the cases investigated. We were called to give evidence to one of the earlier enquiries and ultimately awarded compensation for his experience. Sadly, he died before he could receive the money, which might have made his last weeks more comfortable and enjoyable.

What has happened has made me very sad. Not just because he had to go through all that horror, but because, despite some awful neglect and ineptitude, he did have two excellent nurses, both male, and one of whom was a young Spanish man. Both tried their hardest to do a good job in the most difficult of circumstances, and to be caring to both patients and loved ones. They must be devastated to have been unfairly branded ‘murderes’ by families of some of those who died and who still feel tremendous resentment and hurt and want someone ‘to pay’.

We need our local hospital and MUST support its efforts to improve. We can’t live in the past. However painful it is, we must lay it down, learn from it and move forward, together, or we may find the powers that be have decided enough is enough, and Stafford Hospital has been closed down

“Colin’s Story- the Hezekiah Years” tells of my husband’s childhood, his Christian faith and experiences at the hospital as is available from www.selahministies.co.uk- books testimony. Proceeds to our local hospice..

Across the pond ... Penny

What Matters Most

Today, I was able, to spend time with my 9-year old.  Keiana was home from school today with strep throat.  Usually, I would be very conflicted with the choice between staying home with my child and going to work.  However, today, as my alarm clock rang and faced with that choice, my answer was seemingly clear.  You see, I have given so much to Corporate America over the past 20 years.  I have worked the 14-15 hour days.  I have worked on numerous teams and projects, all in the name of trying to secure a spot for myself at the head of somebody else's table.  Now, don't get me wrong.  I have loved most every position I have held and enjoy the varied opportunities.  However, the seat I have at the table at my own house is also valuable.  I have come to realize that the people sitting in the boardroom of my own home hold me in much greater esteem than any corporation that I have ever been fortunate enough to work.

While someone else may be evaluating my performance in regards to some ever changing set of criteria,  my family's criteria stays the same.  I know what to expect when I walk through the door.  The same little energetic dog will greet me.  There will be, although it may vary, two daughters, with their demands of homework, drama, cheerleading and the like.  A husband, with a whole other set of wants and needs.  However, their will be no superficial judgement, no competition for that elusive position that may or may not exist, just a family, waiting to be loved unconditionally.

Today, I had a makeover from a 9 year old.  I helped with homework from yesterday and watched re-runs of the Brady Bunch and Good Times.  No, I didn't write any strategic plans or any business objectives, but, what will be remembered most?  I think the bad make-up job and the crazy episode of Good Times we watched.

I am truly re-evaluating what matters most.  Yes, I still am very ambitious about my career.  However, I think, I have to re-evaluate how I get to the next phase of my career.  Maybe the corporate ladder will have to be my own ladder.  Maybe the seat at the table will have to be a table I create for myself with people that I invite.  I think too many of us, women to be specific, sit around, waiting to be invited to the table, when we are the ones cooking the meal!

Lunch with a friend

Delicious appetizers

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow described hospitality as sitting with gladness.  This is a perfect description of my lunch  today. I was glad when Carol extended an invitation for lunch. She is  a gracious hostess and a gourmet cook.

The best part of our time together, we discuss everything.
We share a love of our family, friends, and our faith in God.

Desserts... and Bavarian Cream....

Corn Chowder 

Lovely table setting
and dear friends