Tag Archives: love

Five Sentence Fiction: Cherish

Photograph by Lisa Shambrook (Please do not use)
She ducked and muttered gripping the washing basket, as Action Man leaped from the banister and a torrent of Matchbox cars raced down the hallway, biting at her heels. 
She expertly ‘shivered’ her ‘timbers’ as she hopped over strategically placed plumped-up cushion stepping stones in a treacherous ocean of stormy blue carpet. 
She avoided the mad hullabaloo, as the cat screeched and narrowly escaped an afternoon of captivity beneath an overturned cardboard box that suddenly became the TARDIS. 
And she managed to survive feeding time at the zoo, in spite of demands to feed the tiger and the lion first and allow the monkey the meal of his choice.
She was run ragged in her own home and bossed by the most raucous of little monsters…but she wouldn’t have it any other way…  
Written for Lillie McFerrin’s Five Sentence Fiction, go read the other wonderful tales…

12 Days of Christmas: Feast

Today I rebelled…12 Days of Christmas offers up to 300 words to tell our stories and today’s Feast needed eighty-three more in the telling! My OCD usually keeps me to word counts, but today I’m rebelling!

Photograph by Lisa Shambrook (Please do not use without permission)
Feast
Jamie hated supermarkets. 
His weekly shop was monthly, once a month and his trolley contained ready-meals, Pot Noodles and a bag of apples. 
Two things changed: his mum sent him a cook book, by his namesake, and Joanne started on the checkout.  He knew her name because he studied her name tag every week when he went shopping. 
The frozen meals became meat and, god forbid, actual vegetables. 
Slowly, once a week became twice, and herbs found their way into his basket along with mushrooms and onions, and Joanne smiled at him as he put his groceries into bags, reusable bags. 
Jamie’s cooking expertise did not come naturally and when Joanne commented how much she liked swede as it passed through the till, Jamie blanched, he had no idea what to actually do with the said vegetable, but he smiled and nodded like he did.
Joanne chatted away as he packed and Jamie grinned and nodded in all the right places, knowing that if he spoke, his words would run away with him and trip right over his tongue and he’d never be able to speak to her again! 
“Lamb, my favourite!” she said.
Jamie smiled, tongue-tied.
“So what’re you making? Oh, silly question…lamb, obviously…”
He nodded.
“I’ve got a great lamb recipe I’ve never tried,” she said flushing under his gaze. “I got Jamie Oliver’s book for Christmas…”
“So did I!” he managed.
Her smile grew even brighter. “You did! It’s just…I’ve no one to cook for.”
He knew his grin was stuck and it wasn’t going to move. 
“What about you?” she asked, “Anyone?”
He shook his head and squeezed out the words. “No one, just me.”
“I’m sorry, I’m holding onto these like an idiot!” She placed carrots into his bag. “Well, I hope the lamb tastes good!” Jamie paid and grabbed his bags, his stomach twisting. 
Before he walked away Jamie’s mouth moved of its own accord. “Joanne…I really have no idea how to cook lamb, in fact I’ve got no idea what to do with most of these vegetables…” 
“I can help…” she offered tentatively, “I’m finishing in ten minutes.”
“I’d like that…” Jamie’s stomach flipped, like a burger on a grill, as Joanne’s smile lit up his life. “I think it’s time I opened that recipe book!” 
(383 Words)

Day Eleven: November – Feast
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Five Sentence Fiction: Medicine

“It’s bad…” the Sage grimaced, his brow creasing and his head slowly shaking, “I’m losing her.”
He glanced down at her pale features; her forehead was dusted with perspiration glittering in the moonlight and her hands lay limp on the cotton coverlet, and he pre-empted the question with a prolonged sigh, “There is something, it’s a long shot, might not even work…but,” he gestured vaguely beyond the window, “up there, high on the peak, is the montis bellis perennis…the mountain daisy…” his voice trailed and disappeared along with the lad’s hopes. 
But, within moments, the lad had vanished out into the shadowy night, trekking far across muddy fields, weaving through distant forest, cutting a path through murky swamps and climbing through ominous veils of meandering mists up, up and up…fingers blistering as he grasped splintering rock and eyes smarting from the violent, howling winds. 
Nights passed, days passed, and her fading breath passed weakly through her dry and chapped lips; then the lad crashed through the door, disturbing the Sage and the peace, clutching a daisy, a single daisy, petals lost, petals crumpled and petals sticking to his exhausted fingers…he dropped the crushed and broken daisy into the mystic’s open hands. “Use the flower and heal her!” he demanded through his haze of delirium, “Heal her!”
“I can’t,” said the Sage, “there’s nothing left of the flower, nothing…” he watched the weary lad fall to the floor and stroked the remains of the daisy across her ashen face; she stirred, just a tiny movement, but enough, “I can’t heal her, nor can the daisy, but you have…it’s not the daisy, but the journey you were willing to make, your faith and love have healed her…see her eyes flutter open…for you, for love…”

Photograph by Lisa Shambrook

In raising children, I have lost my mind but found my soul…

I’ve read a few blogs, articles and bits and pieces on motherhood lately…many different views, delights, frustrations and opinions. So I thought I’d throw myself into the mix too…
Having been a mother for eighteen and a half years now, I have a bit of experience on the subject!
The first thing that comes to mind is that moment your very first child is delivered and handed to you, and all of a sudden you have a new life, a miracle, a human being that you’ve created, in your arms…I remember the rising sun, twinkling on the ocean, and shining through the blinds in the hospital window as I held Rebekah in my arms…motherhood had begun…
She was a delight, a baby that slept all night, set herself an easy routine and was a pleasure…I only wish I’d been a less frantic parent. Severe pain (I had Fentons repair surgery nine months after birth) and difficulty feeding (I could have fed triplets and almost drowned Bekah whenever I fed her…) made me sink into depression and I forced myself to keep breastfeeding despite my state of mind. I made the mistakes many young mothers make of believing I had to make everything perfect…life isn’t, so I should have appreciated my  mothering skills didn’t need to be either!
Two and a half years later and we were joined by our little monkey…the one on the left…this time I was a stronger mother. This pregnancy had overcome the ME (Myalgic Encephalopathy) that I’d suffered since I was seventeen, so I felt physically stronger…but I still struggled with chronic depression when he was tiny. The best advice I got was from my GP who helped by telling me at four weeks that I didn’t need to breastfeed if I didn’t want to. Her permission relieved me of the guilt that had plagued me when Bekah was a baby and I bottle fed Daniel much earlier. He flourished and I enjoyed him! 
Two gorgeous children and a mum who was much more relaxed second time around! I loved those years with the children. Bekah was old enough to enjoy a little brother and he thought she was the bees knees!
Now, I am someone who plans to the utmost…and I wanted the same gap for my third child…I’d fallen pregnant easily with both, and I was pregnant again much quicker than I’d expected… 
Not straight forward though…a twelve week heartbeat check and my midwife send me for a scan. Vince and I sat waiting, excited to the see the scan, then when the sonographer turned the monitor away from us and rushed out of the room, our hearts dropped. We were told to return for a more detailed scan that afternoon. When we arrived back, my midwife ‘just happened’ to walk past and said she’d stay for the scan. She broke the news that I had a ‘hydatidiform tumour’ and the tumour would be immediately removed. Returning home after surgery, we mourned the loss of the baby that had never arrived…
Two years of two weekly blood tests with Charing Cross Hospital followed and my hCG levels were monitored, they were supposed to take two years to return to normal, but were normal only nine months later. With the all clear, we tried for our missing child. This time we had to be patient… I truly believe that Caitlin would have been born if that third pregnancy had worked, and she’d had to wait…so did we… finally, we became a family of five…
I can smile thinking back to Caitlin’s early years…I was twenty-eight and had much more confidence than I’d ever had before. I breast fed Cait for eight months and loved it! She chose to wean herself off way before I wanted her to! I was lucky with each of my children, they each settled into easy sleeping and feeding routines…Sounds idyllic…some of it was, much of it wasn’t…such is life!
I loved being a family. I loved holding tiny babies in my arms. I loved watching them sleep, especially on their father’s chest. I loved playing on the beach, kicking through autumn leaves, splashing in puddles and collecting outdoor bits and pieces for collages. I loved reading to them. I loved seeing the differences in each one. I loved recognising their similarities. I loved dressing them in amazing charity shop bargains. I loved their innocence…Dan, after visiting Gelli Aur with nursery school, told me at home that his favourite animals had been ‘the ones with sticks on their heads’…that would be the stags then!
I wasn’t so keen on crying babies, nappies (especially exploding ones), tantrums, nor shopping with three in tow, nor encouraging a toddler to sleep on their own in a ‘big’ bed in their own room (once they climb out of their cot…a big bed it was…), nor Caitlin’s escapee antics…she could escape from car restraints, bouncy chairs, high chairs, play pens, cots, and even the house…once the front door bell rang and we opened the door to find toddler Cait standing on the door step in the rain with teddy strapped into her little pushchair, having happily gone for a walk around our cul-de-sac…she was wet enough to indicate that she’d been outside for some time…scary, and a warning to keep the chain across the front door at all times… Not keen on fussy eating…lesson learned too late that chicken nuggets are useless…I would definitely work on better food if I did it all over again.
Perhaps the best things are watching them grow…
I love them more and more each day…sounds sugary, but true…I enjoy them more as they grow. I was once told that I should enjoy them while they were young because they would turn into sullen monsters once they grew out of traditional childhood, but I have to be completely honest and I have enjoyed them more as older children. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve loved those ‘milestones’ all the ‘firsts’…first smile, first crawl, step, word, first time they can write their name…nice story about that one: lovely ‘drawing’ on the wall, and the artist proudly signed their name underneath, then promptly blamed their younger brother for the ‘writing on the wall’ despite the fact said brother was only eighteen months and could barely draw a circle let alone a person and their name! 
I’ve enjoyed watching them grow immensely, changing from cute, angelic, sleeping babies, to mischievous little girls and boys, to creative children and teenagers…to adults that amaze me…
I love the way their cognitive abilities develop, I love watching them work things out…I love how their minds work, and sometimes wish I could regain the simplicity of a child! 
For me family and motherhood is about growing together and becoming better people. Encouraging them to be happy, to aim high and to work hard is what it’s all about. My most favourite thing about being a mother is the relationship and friendship that develops. Though I am stalwart about being a mother first before a friend…I know that as adults my children will be my closest friends. Developing bonds, long conversations, long walks and time together…top my list for the best things about motherhood.
(A mother) discovers with great delight that one does not love one’s children just because they are one’s children, but because of the friendships formed while raising them.
(Gabriel Garcia Marquez)
 (Title quote by Lisa T. Shepherd)
(Please do not use or reproduce any photographs of my children Thankyou)

Expressions of Love…♥

Today we have been married for twenty years…here’s why…
Vince:  I remember one of our first dates, a picnic then a wander through woods where we came face to face with a deer…we stood in awe for a few minutes ‘til the deer moved away…

Lisa:  I loved my first ever bunch of flowers, daffodils and tulips, from the 
Temple grounds where Vince was working as a gardener…

Vince:  On our honeymoon to Guernsey we hired a car and went to a petrol station and began to fill it up. The attendant quickly advised us to only put a few pounds in. We soon realised why when we drove round the island visiting all the beaches in one day!

Lisa:  That moment in hospital, after giving birth, when I looked over to see my husband holding our brand new daughter in his arms and tears running down his face, as the early morning sunlight streamed in through the window…

Vince:  Walks along beaches as the sun goes down and holding hands…

Lisa:  Dressing up posh for Youth Prom nights, made us feel like kids again as we never had Proms when we were young!

Vince:  The excitement when we planned a surprise, mystery day for the children which involved their first aeroplane flight and a day in Scotland…

Lisa:  We love romantic dog walks in all weather: seeing blossom on the trees in spring, listening to the bubbling river in the summer, rustling through fallen leaves in autumn and crunching through freshly fallen snow in winter…

Vince:  Visiting the Temple as a couple…both at Preston and London Temples…being in the spiritual splendour of the Temple and its grounds, reminding us of the eternal nature of our marriage…

Lisa:  I love his sense of fun…dressing up at Halloween, playing Bill Sykes in our family adaptation of ‘Oliver’ and just getting involved enthusiastically…

Vince:  I love how Lisa encourages our children to be the very best that they can be…

Lisa:  Christmas time…and family time…I love to watch our family unite in the season of giving and love…

Vince:  I love the support Lisa gives me in everything I want to do…. Even when she knows it won’t work out…

Lisa:  I love how Vince always does his best and conscientiously achieves such high standards…and his support and encouragement makes me feel special, like I can achieve anything…

Vince:  I love the confidence Lisa has in me in achieving anything, she knows my potential far better than I do, I love the way she encourages me when I have doubts….

Lisa:  I love how when I‘m anxious and worry about things Vince doesn’t let anything faze him…he tells me everything will be alright…
and it always is…

Vince:  I love when Lisa cuddles up to me on the sofa of an evening.  I love it when she comes up to me just for a hug…

Lisa:  Those moments when I’m out and see Vince drive by in his bus, or when he gets home from work…still give me tingles and bubbles of love in my heart…

Vince:  I love looking up at the night sky, with Lisa next to me as we contemplate the other worlds that Heavenly Father has created, and how we could one day, create worlds of our own…

Lisa:  I love his strength and protection… I love searching for Vince’s hand and finding it…


Twentieth Anniversary Celebration…

Twenty years ago I married the man I love with all my heart…it was a wonderful day and I love my memories!

But…I was young and naive and we were short of cash…and we would have changed a few things if we’d had the chance. Our invitations were typewritten postcards, couldn’t afford posh stationary, and the reception left a fair bit to be desired! I wish we’d gone with the traditional idea of having the reception catered for by the women of the church, I’ve seen it work so well! We didn’t, and we weren’t happy with the catering, but I was too young and shy to object. So when Vince and I talked about having a twentieth wedding anniversary celebration, I wanted to do it my way! 
First came the invitations, many were sent out on a Facebook event page, but I also designed my own and had them printed…

I loved them, the roses were an almost exact match for the Jacaranda roses I had for my wedding bouquet! Thus our colour scheme was set…

My dress was the same colour, Bekah chose red and Caitlin wore lilac, beautiful jewel colours! Vince’s tie matched my dress and Dan’s was red. I bought reams and reams of ribbons in the same colours and twisted them to make decorations, the cake was covered in berries of the same colours. The sweetie jar was filled with red and purple sweets, and the glowsticks were red, lilac and blue! 
It rained on the day, but it didn’t dampen our spirits! 
So, the invitations looked good, and to rectify the food and drink served at our original reception (spicy food and concentrated carbonated apple juice…I barely ate anything and that wasn’t from wedding nerves!) we went for desserts and lots of them! Trifles, cheesecakes, gateaux, pavlova, eclairs, cupcakes and much more! And we drank Schloer in all its varieties…

The plasma ball and glowsticks went down like a house on fire, and we decided to have some fun with competitions! Guess how many sweets in the jar, a selection of twenty photos to guess our ages, and a list of twenty questions to see how much everyone knew about us! We didn’t realise how difficult it is to guess ages of people from photographs!
       
We chose to begin by sharing twenty ‘Expressions of Love’, memories and things we love about each other then we played twenty songs for each of our years together! It was great to feel relaxed, something we didn’t feel at our reception, (we were too keen to get away) to dance and just to have fun!
We loved our party, which incorporated my fortieth birthday too, I hadn’t had a party of any kind since I was about eight-years-old, so it was fulfilling in many ways! I loved my dress, I loved the music and the desserts, I loved all my friends and most of all I love (in the present tense) my husband too…♥

Loving Hands…

I love hands for many reasons…creativity, the ability to hold things, expressiveness. Hands can have a calming influence, think massage and caresses…they can protect, and they are mechanically amazing!

I loved drawing my hands when I was doing my GCSE’s…(not so keen on drawing my feet though!)

My father has big, strong hands…hands that made me feel safe no matter what. In fact, it was straight into his hands that I was delivered as a newborn baby…

When I was a child I loved slipping my hand into his and feeling his fingers close around mine with warmth and security. His hands, though calloused and scratched at times, were always soft and smooth and comforting. It was his hands that blessed me when I was sick, held mine while I cried and taught me the principles that I should live by. I loved that his hands always held my mother’s.

When I first met Vince, I shook his hand, a month later that hand took mine and led me onto the dance floor, from that moment I didn’t want to let go…

The strength of his hands and forearms are the most attractive part of a man to me…
I love being held, and hand-holding is a universal way of showing affection. When two people walk side by side and their hands search for each other and take hold, don’t let go of the feeling that ensues…that rush of love and closeness…

If you ever get lonely, 
look at the spaces between your
fingers and remind yourself 
that mine fit in there perfectly. 
My husband’s hands are like my father’s, large and firm… I smile when our fingers touch and when his hand holds mine I feel as though I am where I belong. His hands hold mine when I need comfort and assurance, they help me when I’m burdened, they guide me when I need it and catch me when I fall. 
More than that they do the same for our children…
The most beautiful thing in the world is to watch your child walk hand in hand with their father…
Photograph: Two Hands by Lisa Shambrook (Please do not use without permission)
I hope my girls seek out a man with strong hands, hands that work hard, that comfort, that teach and love…
My son is a hand-holder, an affectionate young man, with hands that are growing and learning. I love holding his hand and take pride that he is not ashamed to do so! I love watching my son grow…his hands are no longer the hands of a boy, but have an assuredness and firmness of a young man. Hands that I know will cherish and love in the future…hands that will hold newborns, hands that will bless his family, hands that will teach and lift and inspire…
I love hands…  

A Decade of Growing Up…

Sometimes it’s hard to imagine your children ever growing up…then, all of a sudden they’ve gone and done it…

I’ve noticed my older two maturing, it’s hard to miss when one towers over you and the other measures himself against you almost daily – ready to point out that he is taller than you – the very moment he is, he’s not yet, I’ve still got a few millimetres on him…but today it was the turn of my youngest. It was time for me to stand back and allow her her own decisions.

I’m a control freak…hard to imagine, but no really, I am…and my ‘control freakiness’ has sometimes got in the way of my children’s freedom to choose.
There’s been the odd Christmas, over the years, when my choice of present for a child seemed much better than the scribbled choice on their list…I bought my choice, then couldn’t understand when it didn’t get played with as much as I’d imagined it would! I learned that one the hard way and bought their choices after that, better value, even if I didn’t like it!

Today Caitlin and I were going through her wardrobe, chucking out clothes that are now too small, when she picked up one top and said, ‘You know I’m never going to wear this don’t you?’ I gave a sideways smile, and replied, ‘But I really like it.’ ‘That’s the point,’ she said, ‘you like it, but it’s not me.’
This happened several more times, with a dress and with a pair of boots. The boots were difficult. I bought cute Clarks, black leather ankle boots in a charity shop for only £2…a bargain! They were a couple of sizes too big when I bought them a few years ago and I put them away for Cait when she got older. It didn’t bother me that she disliked them on sight when she was eight…she’d appreciate them one day…
So every year or two I got them out and said, ‘Try these on…they’re lovely…’ and with a grimace and humouring Mum she’d try them on. ‘Ok, maybe next year.’ I’d tell her ignoring the unhappy expression on her face…after all, they were Clarks, and leather and only £2…
Today, I tried again…but though she tried them on and they fitted, I think they’ve fit for a while…it dawned on me that they weren’t the bargain I’d thought they were…
I asked myself how I would feel if I was coerced into wearing something that wasn’t me, or even that I just didn’t like…and I realised that Caitlin was completely able to choose for herself.
The boots went into a charity bag…and maybe they’ll be someone else’s bargain…

I noticed as my daughter tried on clothes and chatted away that she wasn’t my ‘little’ girl anymore, she was a burgeoning rosebud, blossoming into something more than even she can imagine…and it’s about time I noticed!

My children are becoming themselves…

In the ten years from 2001 to 2011 Caitlin, Dan and Bekah have grown up, Caitlin from one to eleven, Dan from five to fifteen and Bekah from eight to eighteen…
I love watching them grow…I love watching them change, I love hearing their opinions develop and evolve, I gain pleasure from the knowledge they collect and from the wisdom they share, I learn from them, I love watching the adult form within them…
I love them and love the way they love me back… 
(Please do not use or reproduce any photographs of my children)

I find ecstasy in living; the mere sense of living is joy enough. (Emily Dickinson)

41. Dan, Vince, Roxy, Cait, Bekah & Lisa, Jan 2010 crop I’ve often wondered what brings real happiness… after all a couple just won £56million on the National Lottery, would that bring me happiness? Erm…probably! Yet I don’t have a fraction of that and I’m happy.

There’s no doubt that a million or two would contribute to my happiness, but money won’t be my ultimate path to happiness!
‘All you need is Love’… maybe, but not necessarily that recently celebrated Valentine love…it does help to have a soul mate and a friend, but the love I’m talking about is the love you have for yourself.
‘ To love oneself is the beginning
of a lifelong romance’
(Oscar Wilde)
I turned from a quiet and shy schoolgirl, into a teenager caught within a cage of responsibility, desperately trying to assert and rebel, to a young woman finding love and needing acceptance, but I had no idea who I was… I had become a wife and a mother, but who was I?
Are we ever truly happy with who we are? Seven years ago I extricated myself from a breakdown and set about discovering myself…
Back in 1989 I wrote: ‘I want to be everything everyone wants me to be, but I’m not sure I know how, I don’t even know how to be me…’ then in 2004 I began to exorcise my demons: ‘I wanted to be everything everyone wanted me to be, but I didn’t know how to be me, so I tore off my mask and ripped out my heart, and left my soul bare to bleed. I clenched my fists tight and screamed out loud, now I’m learning how to be me…’ It took another four or five years before I could close that chapter: ‘My heart is now open and clear to see, and I don’t feel the need to please. People can take me for what they want me to be, but I only need to be me. My heart can soar in a world of its own, and no one can stop me at all. For over the years there’s a lesson I’ve learned, and I know exactly how to be me.’
So what makes you happy? I think it’s knowing who you are and making the best of yourself and finding joy in what is around you…allow yourself the freedom of being who you are meant to be.
To me, that’s recognising your greatness within.
‘To be a star you must follow your own light,
follow your own path,
and never fear the darkness
for that is when the stars shine their brightest.’
(anon)
Happiness for me is…family, a walk in the snow with a loopy dog, throwing snowballs, laughing and being together…it is writing and losing myself in the story within my head…creating scrapbook pages full of memories…painting and drawing…knowing who I am in the great scheme of things…and sharing that love with those around me… and yes, I found myself. ♥