Hazel White
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My thoughts in Words

In The Deep End.

This piece was started January 2011 final edit March 2012.

After a recent visit to the doctors when once again I was hassled, or to be more precise, emotionally blackmailed, into agreeing to take cholesterol altering drugs, (Doctors have a job to do,ticking the boxes advising us of the bad effects of high cholesterol) forgetting at that moment in time what I had been previously been advised by a consultant at Hospital, I suppose you could say I rebelled.
They used the words “what your husband do without you”. Well there are no guarantees to life, you can be quite innocently going about your daily business when your “ lights “ to coin a phase are put out by an act of fate.
Well this got me thinking just what would my husband do without me: well his best option would be find another woman as quickly as possible, I guess that would be quite a challenge. Hopefully he would. On a more serious note though, I would hate him to be in the same position as a good friend, dear Frank who returned back from his wood yard after his day's work to find no smells of dinner, no fire laid, no wife at home: It came to pass that my friend had quite simply died while she was out walking. This was later explained as a case of SDS [ sudden death syndrome].

To say this was a shock for your man would be a profound understatement; he never ever in all their years of marriage went stepping into her territory for the running of the house and all the financial affairs were strictly her responsibility while he provided.
Working at the wood yard, felling trees, delivering logs, making pallets almost every day for over half a century and still working, the outdoor country life, the smells of nature in all weather, with his sandwiches and flask he would set off on the two minute walk to his work place and not return most days'
until five thirty pm.
With no idea of where the cheque book was, or how much money was in the bank account, let alone where to find insurance details, in fact anything at to do with the daily routine correspondence of life, or ever having used the washing machine or cooked a meal, there he stood bewildered.

So with Frank's predicament in mind I set about the task to have at least the financial details easy for my dearest to understand, together with where to find important documents.
There is a file on my desk top which hopefully will help if this unenviable task becomes necessary. As for my filing system, well, he will find what he is looking for eventually, even I have trouble finding where I have put things. Deciding what heading to file things under can be quite difficult when you are dyslexic.

When it comes to the chores , at least I know that my dearest can cook, but you would not want to wash up after him! But we have a dishwasher now, no problem.
House work: well he can, but yeah! As for the Boys, our dogs, they will keep him motivated. We are lucky to have good friends, and with help, I hope that he would survive like our dear friend Frank whom is enjoying life, albeit vastly different than when he had a woman to, to coin another phrase, ” steer his ship”

As for my cholesterol problem, well, when one has a thyroid condition as I do, high cholesterol is often a factor: apparently if the thyroid is treated effectively, one's cholesterol should revert to be within normal parameters. However, this not an exact science. I have visited the website of the International Network of Cholesterol Sceptics (http://www.thincs.org), this site makes very interesting reading! Being informed is hugely important: after all, we only have one life and the quality of one's life is up to ourselves as much as our Doctors.

As for my Cholesterol, I am doing everything homoeopathic that I can:

Benecol, porridge for breakfast, a low fat diet, I do not smoke but after five years of avoiding alcohol I now have three or four glasses of red wine a week. Red wine is good for one's circulation [ thins the blood ] which may also help reduce cholesterol. The French do not seem to suffer so much with this problem and it is well known that they enjoy their wine.

When I was taking Statins I felt as if I was carrying an extra half a hundredweight around with me, at barely five feet tall and currently weighing in at eleven stone two pounds after attending weight watchers for a time last year and still keeping to the plan. I certainly do not want to feel that effect together with muscle and joint pain, low libido and bad concentration plus Irritable Bowel Syndrome.

I will just have to hope that, in time, all the little things that I am doing with diet and exercise [walking my dogs' twice daily for forty minutes] will eventually lower my cholesterol. Statins and similar drugs are out.

Sink or Swim

Sink or swim sink or swim

Will it be her or will it be him?

For some day one of them a different life will begin .

With a lifetime of loving Memories

With the up's and down's of what comes around

Which one will be thrown in the Ocean that is a life alone.

Will it be her or will it be him
That will tread the water as of life
That will swim lest they will sink
Will it be me or will it be him!

My Drinking Days are Done.
November 09

In April 2006 just before launching my C.D. I gave up the Drink, this was meant to be a short term thing, I was fully intending to have a drink or two after performing at the launch, well that was the idea.
The day came and it was great fun and everyone seemed to enjoy it including me which was a surprise, it was at this point that I realized I really did not want to drink alcohol again. I found that I had not felt so good in years.

I suppose to be honest I had been a regular drinker from a very early age with a glass of cider or wine not just at Christmas or on special occasions. There was much to cope with, my mother always being ill, having a succession of nervous breakdowns from my seventh year, although it was before this that life became very unhappy.
It is fair to say that I have struggled through life with mood swings and bad memories, depression etc.
There are thousands of my generation, post war babies, whose fathers had experienced the terror of war and whose mothers did their best. Some of these got post natal depression on top of everything else which if not treated promptly can effect one's entire life.

There comes a time when you have to face your "demons" and accept and acknowledge what has gone before and forgive if you can. Look at yourself in the mirror and be happy with yourself because if you cannot, no one else can. As for Alcohol, does it help? Well not for me, it just muddies it all.

The hardest thing about this decision is that some friends cannot accept it
And constantly press me to have "just one".... if only!


Yoga for Life.

Yoga has been a part of my life since 1975, this was nearly a year after having my left patella [knee cap] removed and finding it very difficult to regain any sort of physical fitness that I started going to evening classes.

Our Yoga teacher was a lady of mature years and she had “found” Yoga in her mid fifties when as she put it she was “ceasing up” now in her mid seventies with the physical condition and flexibility that both amazed and inspired me. The emphasis she installed into us all was that Yoga was not a competitive recreation, that the most important thing to remember is that only do what feels comfortable [no extreme straining to achieve positions] the benefits of complete breathing, meditation and eventually contemplation are quite exhilarating.

From the age of eleven years, thanks’ to a very bossy x-wren P.T. teacher when I was bullied into attempting to volt a four foot horse and me just four foot ten inches tall, all ten stone of me crashing to the ground when apparently it was discovered when the surgeon jovially commented after removing my knee cap in bits “I didn’t know that you had played rugby” was crushed at that early age. This single event has had a profound effect on my ability to keep myself fit and has been a constant recurring source of weakness and pain ever since that fateful day[Ms Hurst] who if still alive must be well in her nineties by now. As for being ten stone at eleven years well that’s another story and not one to tell now or in the foreseeable future.

With two operations since, the last one in 1995 and thanks’ to the skill of my surgeon when he repaired the post-cruciate tendon, which I had managed to sever whilst haymaking ten plus years earlier I can now walk normally and with only a few exceptions I have kept my promise to him, not to run or dance anything other than a smooch [the chance would be a fine thing] I consider myself to be very lucky to been able to live a relatively “normal” life no more ceili’s for me giving up dancing a small price to pay, having had to have a fireman’s “chair” carry out of a third floor dance hall as a result of doing the twist, prior to 1995.

Being able to walk is far more important than you realize when every single step is unpredictable as to if you will be flung to the ground as the knee dislocates not an experience I would wish on anyone.

Although I have strayed away from making the effort to practise my
Yoga routine from time to time over the years the longest break six years came to an end on fourth of August last year, when I knew I just had to get a grip and get back to what keeps me motivated into getting myself as fit as I possibly can at my time of life!
So back to my good old faithful book of Richard Hittleman’s Yoga 28 day exercise plan,
a leaving present from my work colleagues when I joined my husband on the buildings as a chippies mate great fun and getting out of the office environment was very rewarding learning new skills and much less stressful.

I have never managed to complete all the postures in the book not even in my twenties, I do what I can and that is all that matters. The general improvement both physical and mental is worth every minute of the 40 minutes a day, well almost every day!

My dear friend Joany who lives in Boscastle Cornwall, twenty years my senior still practises Yoga and often receives compliments on how well she looks for her age [you are so lucky] as she retorts back, luck has nothing to do with it “ its dammed hard work Darling .”
Well in twenty years time if I am still in the land of the living perhaps I will be saying the same.