Fe-Fe's World Of Craft, Creations and Kids.: Middle Of Nowhere!

Saturday 17 November 2007

Middle Of Nowhere!

We got back from Florida last Sunday and on Monday evening we moved into a cottage on a sheep farm in Rainow which is on the outskirts of Macclesfield.

The reason for our move was that we were having our (70's original) orange bathroom suite and tiles ripped out and a new modern white one put in plus lots of other work inside and out. So we thought the easier option would be to move out until it was all done.

Peej took these photos of the sheep farm cottage, which I have to admit is very picturesque but when I say this cottage was in the middle of nowhere, I mean it was in the middle of nowhere! The second photo was taken from the end of the dirt track that leads from the farm and cottage through the field to the "main road" as you can see there's not a great deal around except sheep, sheep and more sheep and you can't even see them on this photo!

There was no Internet access out there (hence the lack of blog entries!), the signal on my mobile phone was very hit and miss (more miss than hit!), and there was no land line. So to say I felt very isolated out there was a bit of an understatement.

The idea for the week was that we would take the children to school each morning then go back to the house which is just round the corner from the school and we would work on the garden while "the boys" did the work on the house. Hmm...

Lets just say between having jet lag, a bad cold, a poorly son and having to get up so early to drive the 30 minute journey to get Ellie to school on time every morning, it just didn't happen!

On one of the days Josh and I stayed at the cottage all day while Peej took Ellie to school then went to the house. However, never again! Josh is such a "Man Flu" kind of child when he's ill that spending a day in the middle of nowhere with only free view to take his mind off things was not good. I don't know who suffered more that day me or Josh!

I used to think that living in the country with no one for miles around would be lovely, so peaceful and quiet. Not anymore. I have never felt so out of it in all my life. But we're back now, my cold has just about gone, JJ is also on the mend, I can sleep in my own bed tonight, we've got cable TV again and access to craft stuff and PCJ's and my blog and all is right again in Fe-Fe's World!! Ahhhhhh!

4 comments:

Deborah said...: This stone cottage is so charming! I bet there is a cool stone fireplace inside? Enjoy the beauty and solitude of your cottage! TFS-Deb; 17 November 2007 at 22:18
ScrapMomOf2 said...: OMG it IS charming! Solitude is nice for a while, but not with all the driving back and forth! Take care Fiona!!; 18 November 2007 at 14:24
Maria said...: The cottage looks lovely but like you, I don't think I could live in the boonies. I think I would go crazy.

Welcome back to civilization! Ha!

Maria; 18 November 2007 at 18:10
Anonymous said...: WOW Fe Fe , so much to look at ! Beautiful cottage !!!!; 21 November 2007 at 10:45

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Ode to Special Mums

Ode to Special Moms(by Erma Bombeck)

Most women become mothers by accident, some by choice, a few by social pressures and a couple by habit. This year, nearly 100,000 women will become mothers of handicapped children. Did you ever wonder how mothers of handicapped children are chosen?

Somehow I visualize God hovering over Earth selecting his instruments for propagation with great care and deliberation. As he observes, he instructs his angels to make notes in a giant ledger.
"Armstrong, Beth, son, patron saint, Matthew.
Forrest, Marjorie, daughter, patron saint, Cecilia.
"Rudledge, Carrie, twins, patron saint, give her Gerard. He's used to profanity."
Finally, he passes a name to an angel and smiles, "Give her a handicapped child."

The angel is curious. "Why this one, God? She's so happy."

"Exactly," says God. "Could I give a handicapped child to a mother who does not know laughter? That would be cruel."

"But has she patience?" asks the angel.

"I don't want her to have too much patience or she will drown in a sea of self-pity and despair. Once the shock and resentment wear off, she'll handle it.
"I watched her today. She has that feeling of self and independence that is so rare and so necessary in a mother. You see, the child I'm going to give her has his own world. She has to make it live in her world, and that's not going to be easy."

"But, Lord, I don't think she even believes in you."

God smiles. "No matter. I can fix that. This one is perfect. She has just enough selfishness."

The angel gasps, "Selfishness? Is that a virtue?"

God nods. "If she can't separate herself from the child occasionally, she'll never survive. Yes, here is a woman whom I will bless with a child less than perfect. She doesn't realize it yet, but she is to be envied. She will never take for granted a 'spoken word.' She will never consider a 'step' ordinary. When her child says 'Momma' for the first time, she will be present at a miracle and know it! When she describes a tree or a sunset to her child, she will see it as few people ever see my creations."I will permit her to see clearly the things I see...ignorance, cruelty, prejudice...and allow her to rise above them. She will never be alone. I will be at her side every minute of every day of her life, because she is doing my work as surely as she is here by my side."

"And what about her patron saint?" asks the angel, pen poised midair.

God smiles. "A mirror will suffice."

"Welcome to Holland"

"Welcome to Holland" By Emily Perl Kingsley

I am often asked to describe the experience of raising a child with a disability - to try to help people who have not shared that unique experience to understand it, to imagine how it would feel. It's like this......

When you're going to have a baby, it's like planning a fabulous vacation trip - to Italy. You buy a bunch of guide books and make your wonderful plans. The Coliseum. The Michelangelo David. The gondolas in Venice. You may learn some handy phrases in Italian. It's all very exciting.

After months of eager anticipation, the day finally arrives. You pack your bags and off you go. Several hours later, the plane lands. The stewardess comes in and says, "Welcome to Holland."

"Holland?!?" you say. "What do you mean Holland?? I signed up for Italy! I'm supposed to be in Italy. All my life I've dreamed of going to Italy."

But there's been a change in the flight plan. They've landed in Holland and there you must stay.

The important thing is that they haven't taken you to a horrible, disgusting, filthy place, full of pestilence, famine and disease. It's just a different place.

So you must go out and buy new guide books. And you must learn a whole new language. And you will meet a whole new group of people you would never have met.

It's just a different place. It's slower-paced than Italy, less flashy than Italy. But after you've been there for a while and you catch your breath, you look around.... and you begin to notice that Holland has windmills....and Holland has tulips. Holland even has Rembrandts.

But everyone you know is busy coming and going from Italy... and they're all bragging about what a wonderful time they had there. And for the rest of your life, you will say "Yes, that's where I was supposed to go. That's what I had planned."
And the pain of that will never, ever, ever, ever go away...because the loss of that dream is a very very significant loss. But...if you spend your life mourning the fact that you didn't get to Italy, you may never be free to enjoy the very special, the very lovely things ... about Holland.